#day dream j hope
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thebookofbill · 1 year ago
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AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
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HE’S FUCKING BACK
I CALLWD MY BEST FRIEND IMMEDIATELY TO SCREWM AND TELL HIM ABOUT IT. WE YAVE COLLECTIVELT PREORDERED ALL THREE AVAILABLE BERSIONS. I AM SO SOSP SO FUCKIMG EXCITED
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sincerely-sofie-shoebox · 5 months ago
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Yee yee!! Honestly mood, I also grew up in a not very great place to make friends so having more is always such a nice feeling tbh
But yes, you're my bestie now, so says me
Getting promoted to One of Aria’s Besties and feeling like I need to write an award acceptance speech as a result rn
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myobsessionsspace · 7 months ago
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ARMYPEDIA LIVE
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Live performances of:
No More Dream
Just One Day
Like
💜
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umareba · 6 months ago
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accidentally stood up until 2 am making these
i love drawing my favourite characters
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I don't know why i tried to remain unopinionated in a blog i made specifically to express opinion
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yeah-thats-probably-it · 10 months ago
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say what you like about having your vocabulary ruined by bertie wooster but at least whenever I'm indecisive from now on I'll always be able to say that I'm letting 'I dare not' wait upon 'I would' and make everyone think I'm cultured
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basslinegrave · 6 months ago
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im feeling so antsy i have like nothing that i specifically Have to do like yes i have to work on a fursuit but im missing something for it so i would have to wait either way so its ok to slow down on it (i at least sewed some parts today) and i got enough money for rent and all so i dont need to rush it so idk if its that but i also have a dentist appointment next week which might be the cause of me being so nervous because i Hate it there and i hate how its now gonna ruin my weekend cause im just gonna be thinking about it
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whumpy-wyrms · 9 months ago
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hey guys
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sinceileftyoublog · 1 month ago
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Steve Wynn Interview: A Working Musician
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Photo by Guy Kokken
BY JORDAN MAINZER
Make It Right (Fire) isn't your standard issue singer-songwriter record, even given the history of its creator, Steve Wynn, best known as the leader of legendary neo-psychedelic band The Dream Syndicate. Each song references, lyrically and/or aesthetically, something about Wynn's past, moments in his life and sounds he dived into throughout his long career. Peppy album opener "Santa Monica" is named after the city and boulevard where he was born. The drum machine-addled, deadpanned "What Were You Expecting" and slinky slow burn "Cherry Avenue" loosely connect with a time in his life where he was no longer bright-eyed and idealistic, learning the rules of a cynical world. The jangly "You're Halfway There" and proto-punk-funk of "Making Good On My Promises" soundtrack a perspective shift, where Wynn realizes that conquering antagonism can breed strength. "Scars, scars / I've got them pickled in a jar / Fables and warnings / I eat them for breakfast," he cheekily sings. The album ends with a strummed, yet distorted track named after where Wynn lives today: "Roosevelt Avenue". You can pick apart Wynn's life and point to exact moments where these songs might have taken place, but Wynn would rather you do something else. "You can just put on Make It Right and use it as the catalyst to create your own life story, dig into your own past," Wynn wrote in the album's bio. "It belongs to you now. Let it tell your own tale while I tell mine."
Really, if you want to know about Wynn's past, just pick up I Wouldn’t Say It If It Wasn’t True (Jawbone Press), his debut memoir, released in tandem with Make It Right. Though, according to Wynn, one is not needed to understand the other, it does make the exercise of not just breaking down Make It Right, but applying its lessons to your own life, a little easier. We might not all have grown up in Santa Monica, gone to a high school that produced members of Germs, had our band signed to a record label in our early 20's, and had said rapidly successful band break up in our late 20's. (That's where the book ends.) But we can all identify with having periods of our life that feel like a whole lifetime, followed by times of languishing. Really, it's not just Make It Right but Wynn's life, too, where we see ourselves.
Sunday, at the Hideout, Wynn will make a tour stop--that's a book and album tour--where he will play on acoustic guitar some tunes from Make It Right, Dream Syndicate songs, and other covers. He'll intersperse the performance with passages from I Wouldn’t Say It If It Wasn’t True. And he'll be joined by Eleventh Dream Day guitarist and vocalist Rick Rizzo, who will open the show, sometimes join Wynn in playing, and sometimes lead a Q&A session. Or, as Wynn put it to me over the phone last month, "asking me questions, calling my bullshit." Wynn's "foil for the evening" Rizzo was there for a lot of Wynn's stories, playing on the very song that inspired the book's name; he sounds like he'll be a proper, but friendly, antithesis.
Below, read my wide-ranging conversation with Wynn about his new album and book, his artistic process, and the difference between then and now when it comes to the music industry, scenes, and touring. One difference, according to Wynn, is that people plan far ahead now; Wynn let me know that the band's sophomore album Medicine Show will be reissued next summer! For now, immerse yourself in the world of Make It Right and I Wouldn’t Say It If It Wasn’t True. It won't feel like a lifetime.
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Since I Left You: You released I Wouldn’t Say It If It Wasn’t True and Make It Right in tandem. You mentioned in the epilogue of the memoir that you got some external encouragement to write a book because Alex Abramovich liked what you had given him about The Velvet Underground for The New Yorker. The pandemic was as good as a time as any to start writing, but at what point did you realize you wanted to make a record alongside your memoir?
Steve Wynn: The whole time I was writing the book, which was over about 5 concentrated years, 10 years in total, I kept writing songs and recording material. When it came time to release the book, I thought it would be nice to have a solo record come out at the same time, just because I was gonna be touring the book. As much as I enjoy being an author, I'm primarily a musician. When I [looked at the songs] I had been working on, I realized they all completely reflected the memoir. Of course: I had been so immersed in writing about my life and things I had long since not thought about, the songs I was writing fit that same subject matter. I put [them] all together for a record that really fit the book. I contacted my label, Fire Records, and said, "Hey, I'm probably gonna press about 500 copies to have at shows," and they said, "It works as a cohesive, standalone record. We want to put it out."
SILY: When people read that the two are coming out at the same time, they might at first ask themselves to what extent the record is autobiographical. I like that you very much clarify that it's instead a parallel to your life, a collection of feelings rather than a collection of events.
SW: I always put my own feelings and emotions and judgements and takes on life in all of my songs, even if I'm writing about a baseball player or a killer or a character I read about somewhere. I still put my own stamp on it. On this record, most of the songs are about looking back on things that happened in your life, moments where you might have done something different, things you might regret. Time and time again, with all 10 songs, that's what's going on: "That's where I was, here's where I am now." That little path in between, would I change anything or just say, "Yep, that's what went down." That's me in all of the songs.
SILY: Sonically, the record seems to touch on different moments of your career, both with The Dream Syndicate and solo, and your different aesthetic inspirations. Was that a conscious decision?
SW: I don't think I thought about that much. The record [was made] in different sessions in different countries and with different musicians, [some songs] with longtime collaborators and some with people I had just met and said, "Let's try a song together." Like with every record, I went in and followed the other people in the studio, the songs, the mood at that point in my life, and what I was listening to, what it all pointed to. Even when I go into a record saying, "It's gonna be this kind of record," I roll with whatever happens.
There's a section in the book about jamming and how a lot of what I do is just respond to what's around me. That's my favorite thing and why I love new places on tour. I went on tour with The Dream Syndicate to play new songs [in preparation for] a record that became These Times, about six years ago. I was very influenced at the time by Donuts by J Dilla, which seemed very unlikely because of what I do. But I don't think it really was, because it's a record that has a psychedelic dream state collection of sampled music. It's someone saying, "This is my record collection processed through me." I thought it would be a fun thing to do in the studio, but by the time I got down to Virginia to do the record, with the other members of The Dream Syndicate, not only did it become a very different record, but they were the sessions that produced The Universe Inside. The surprises often outweigh what's premeditated. I'm fine with that.
SILY: In the book, you're very open about what songs in the past you've tried to rip off, because you think there's no way you'll get sued since the inspiration and your final product end up sounding nothing alike.
SW: [laughs] It's so true. If somebody says, "I love the reverb on that Yardbirds record," people now know how to get it. It used to be you didn't have a lot of choices or tools at your disposal to try to recreate something, so you'd get close to it. Now, you hear a record on Underground Garage on Sirius XM, and people have figured out how to do it. In my case, I loved this record by The English Beat, and [the song I made that was inspired by it] sounded nothing like that, becoming "Tell Me When It's Over". Before this book, I'd give $100 to any given audience member who could have [correctly] told me where I got the song from. I'd be saving my $100.
SILY: The book offers a window into your process without getting bogged down in it too much.
SW: I love stuff like that. A lot of books don't do that. I really try to do a fair amount of that in this book, and I could have done more. I really enjoy books where people talk about how they made the music. Not just, "I used this EQ setting," but where their mind was while they were getting there, why their favorite album became the way it was. Richard Hell writes about his sex life and psychological challenges: all great stuff. I chose to write about how I connected with music from age 4 as a fan to age 21 as a kid making his first record all the way through to the end of the book at age 28 when I became disenchanted and then regained the love for it once more. If I had to say the book is about something, it's about someone who loves music, embraces it, and gets lucky enough to make a career out of it.
SILY: Because a lot of the book takes place in and around L.A., every stranger you run into seems like a future star. One person turned out to be a young Hope Sandoval, and another "new band" you rejected for your label turned out to be the Pixies. Each reference one-ups the previous ones, and you can't help it, because that was the environment in which you grew up, and the time period seemed to be conducive to things like that happening.
SW: I think you're right. Most people who write a memoir who have "made it," you're going to run into people [in the book]. Most of my friends at this point in my life are other touring musicians. We can get together for dinner, like we did last night, and you're not trying to drop names, but the conversation is, "I ran into this guy." or "You know who I met last night?" It was a time where things were very innocent. You could meet Hope Sandoval as a 14-year-old kid star-struck at soundcheck who would later become frontperson of a great band. Even encountering Bono on that tour [where we opened for U2], we were all in our early 20's or younger, trying to figure it out. At the time, there wasn't as much of a developed scene for so many things that are taken for granted now. Before The Dream Syndicate, if you wanted to be a musician, if you wanted to pick up a guitar and make records, your goal was to be a star, to play the arena in town. There wasn't the idea, "All I want to do is make records and sell 2,000 copies, get some reviews, and be the coolest kid on the block." A lot of bands did that, like Big Star and The Modern Lovers, but that wasn't their goal. Even those bands thought, "Well, I'm on my way." Our generation, The Dream Syndicate and The Paisley Underground bands, was the first generation to say, "We'd like to make it, and it'd be fun, but we're emulating our other failed heroes." Some, despite that, made their way out of that. We did, kind of.
SILY: I always have to remind myself that a band's ascent and descent happens these days more gradually. Back then--and you give Creedence Clearwater Revival as an example in the book--not only were bands putting out multiple records a year, they were putting out multiple records a year we now consider all-time greats. The way the industry works now, with record release cycles, it seems like labels want to milk as much as they can out of one piece of music. A band that's been around for 20 years might only have 4 records.
SW: I find that to be not the case now. What you're describing was very much the case in the 80s, which I and so many musicians found frustrating. You'd make a record, and you were not expected to make one for another two years. What you're describing is probably true for the biggest artists, but what I really love these days is you can make 10 records a year if you feel like it, under different names and expectations. A band like Wilco can release albums, and Jeff Tweedy can make solo records and records with his sons at the same time. You can have your big label release and a record you put on Bandcamp. If somebody wanted to be the new Creedence, they could. They may not sell a million records, but who does these days? It's kind of come full circle to what it was before I was born, where the records are just something you use to get attention for your tour. That's okay, too, because I like touring. But yes, you do raise a good point: There were times when you were discouraged to be prolific. Now, if you want to be [prolific], knock yourself out.
SILY: Touring-wise, nowadays, you can still be the scrappy band coming up and playing for not a ton of money but touring cheaply. You can be an arena rock band, too, of course. But it seems like that mid-sized band, who might be signed to a major indie label, seems to have trouble staying afloat when it comes to touring, balancing their expenses with their revenue. In the book, you mentioned some touring struggles, too, playing to half-capacity crowds in rooms you sold out the prior year, perhaps due to oversaturation. What do you feel are the differences between touring then and now?
SW: There's a lot of truth to everything to you just said. We just had this meteoric rise, and before we knew it, we were on tour buses opening for two of the biggest rock bands in the world. I was staying in nice hotels and had a four-man crew catering my every need. I thought, "I guess this is how the world works." Luckily for us--even though it seemed unlucky at the time--we had a quick comedown after that. By age 25, I thought, "All I am is a working musician," and not in the way an arena rocker is. I learned early on that what I do is not that different from what John Lee Hooker did or what Dexter Gordon did, or all of these people who were not rock stars but jazz, blues, and folk stars. John Fahey went from gig to gig. Where it's all leading is two hours down the road where somebody is paying me $375 to play to 40 people, and I'm pretty damn happy about that, because that's the next stop. It's very rock and roll to say, "I'm building this," but we're working musicians. You hear people say, "Why is Bob Dylan touring? Doesn't he have enough money? Doesn't he want to take it easy?" No, because Bob Dylan is cut from the cloth of, "This is what I do. I play music for people and keep moving on. I'm a troubadour." I play in the band The Baseball Project with two people who don't need to tour, Mike Mills and Peter Buck, who have done very well for themselves with all the success they've gotten with R.E.M. They could live out their lives on some beach, but they love playing music. They love their friends and being on the road and having adventures. That's why they do it. For a lot of musicians like myself, that's more important than the end goal. My end goal is to continue to do it for the next 10 or 20 years. [That's] more important than strategizing.
SILY: I wanted to ask, since The Dream Syndicate and them seemed to have similar ascent and descent paths: Did you ever cross paths with Pylon?
SW: I was a big fan. In the days before The Dream Syndicate, I loved their first album and saw them at a club in Hollywood. I'm still a huge fan. I've met [vocalist] Vanessa [Briscoe Hay]; I wouldn't say I'm a friend. It's funny: These people were our heroes two years before we started, which at the time it seemed like they were so much older, like they'd been around. "We can only dream of some day living a life like Pylon or The Soft Boys." The next thing you know, you're playing the same clubs and talking about the same things in the bar after the shows. All roads lead to the same place.
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SILY: In the book, you tell the story of when your 5th grade teacher told your class everyone was free to do whatever they wanted for 15 minutes, so you decided to mess with a classmate who was painting. Your teacher scolded you for using your freedom to stop your classmate from expressing his freedom. You write about how that interaction informed your philosophy on playing music, that there is a language and, if not a structure, a ways of working to jamming. Is that something you take in to every recording session, even on a record like Make It Right that's comprised of short pop songs?
SW: I try to. That [section on improvising] was the last thing I wrote for the book. I [included it] because it says a lot about what we did and still do. [The teacher's lesson] was a good lesson. As a bandleader, and I'm a bandleader to different extents, because The Baseball Project has 5 bandleaders and I'm kind of the bandleader of The Dream Syndicate--I get a lot of welcome pushback from my bandmates. I try to be energetic and excited about the idea I have and what I'm doing while realizing the people around me are musicians getting excited about what they're doing, too. If somebody's playing a beat or a riff or sound that rankles me, when is the right point to say, "That's not what I'm going for," or, "Maybe they have something going here I'm not quite understanding. I should give it a second."? Believe me, my wife and drummer, who is two rooms away right now, would say, "Steve, you do not [do that.]" It's such a hard thing and one of the hardest things in life, if you're in a relationship, in a band, or President of the United States, to say, "Thank you for all of the advice, but I've gotta do it my way." There's no right answer. You can point to 10 different instances in your life where you should have taken more control, and 10 more where you should have let up the control. We're always trying to figure that out.
SILY: In the bio for Make It Right, you encourage folks to use it as a launching point to tell their own story. In the book, you mention how much you loved Once Upon a Time in Hollywood... and felt it very much captured the essence of where you grew up. I know people who have seen that movie, who remember Sharon Tate's grisly murder and hate the liberties Quentin Tarantino took with the ending. Are you one who pays more attention to narrative in terms of a feel that a linear story?
SW: Sometimes, yes, sometimes, no. I like when a record or a song or a movie leaves a little room for you to find your way in. Sometimes, you can spell it out too much, and [as a member of the audience,] you think, "You did all the work, I have no place in this." Randy Newman writes minimal words to make his point, and you come out thinking, "Is that irony? Is that what he believes? Do I really understand this character?" I like a little mystery in the writing. I don't like fluffy nonsense impressionistic stuff from all of the people who thought they could be Bob Dylan in the 60's but are just [making] word salad of psychedelic terms. If you write something that makes just enough sense to give you an image but doesn't quite take you all the way there, that's exciting for me. My favorite things I've done are like that as well.
SILY: Your memoir doubles as a story of how a scene was born. Do you find yourself wanting to explore scenes of music these days?
SW: I don't think about it as much. It's really different now than the days of the Paisley Underground, British Invasion, or even punk rock. Even far into the grunge scene, we were still working separately. In the pre-Internet days, Seattle was one scene and New York was another scene. Now, in a city, there might be a bunch of bands who hang out, but we're all unified. You know everything and connect with everything. You can be Facebook friends with someone in Slovenia who shares your taste, start collaborating, and find out what's going on over there. I don't think "scene" means [what] it used to. If I hear a band I like today, if it's current, sometimes that's enough. The great thing about streaming or blogs or YouTube is you can keep digging as deep as you want. That's exciting.
It's easy to say things were better then for this reason, or 50 years ago, 30 years ago, 5 years ago. It's just different [now]. I wonder whether we'll talk about bands who have come up in the past 10 years, 50 years from now, the same way we talk about the bands from the 60's like the Kinks, or Television and The Clash. Will it have the same longevity? Maybe, maybe not. Even the big ones, like Taylor Swift. Will we in 50 years say, "She's 85, better than ever, singing all the great hits!"? Things seem a little more disposable now, but I shy away from saying that. [After all,] "Tell Me When It's Over" is a song about a 23-year-old saying to someone, "I don't need you to tell me how it was or how it is. I'll figure it out myself."
SILY: It can make you feel straight-up existential when you think about how today's bands will hold up in the future. The only sure answer is, ironically, that we don't know. Certain things can shift the cultural consciousness to the point where something you never thought would be long-lasting or influential turns out to be so. Anyone who says, "I always knew this band would get its flowers," is probably exaggerating.
SW: Big Star and The Velvet Underground are so fascinating. They weren't utter failures--they were more successful than people realize, as a touring band making records that didn't top the charts--but 50 years later, their music travels the world and is so beloved. If you're in your basement making music for 10 people on Bandcamp, you can say, "That will be me in 50 years," and maybe you will be. It's so hard to say, but it's great it can happen.
The one thing that's different is a certain type of music fan grew up in the glorious era of the 70's, 80's, and 90's where albums reigned supreme. The album was a great art form. This 45-minute thing, give or take a minute or two, was how we gauged great artistic achievement. We look at the Mount Rushmore records, the Exile on Main St.s, the Revolvers, the Blonde on Blondes, the Neverminds, the cherished great albums. [Like] before the 60s, [over] the last 10 years, albums [haven't mattered] as much. I wish they did, because it's a great art form, expressing a collection of songs. But I think we're back to the world where it's just a bunch of songs that show up on Spotify that make you happy for a few weeks. Maybe the next Jimi Hendrix will be a blogger. That's fine, too.
SILY: Recently, I interviewed a blues musician who said the sequencing of her records is not that important to her. She said, “But it’s important to me that they hear all the songs. They all fit on the record in some shape or form.” Pitchfork does a video feature where they ask musicians to name their Perfect 10 album, and a lot of them say, "It's great front to back, no skips!" Perhaps I'm an anomaly as a millennial, but I don't really skip songs on albums I don't like that much! I just listen through! It's what's intended. Even if I'm listening digitally, I think about it as if it's a record, where you can't just push a button to skip to the next song.
SW: Personally, when I hear an album, I still think about it in terms of side A and side B. I don't just think about sequencing, but I think about the spacing between the songs. When I go in to master a record, I don't want there to be a millimeter of a second too long. The space between song 1 and song 2 matters. If you're hearing an album as an album, that stuff matters. I'm a big movie fan. You know they're thinking about that stuff when they're making a movie. They cut the last 3 seconds off of a scene [to make it flow more.] That stuff matters. Whether it matters to a new generation, it may or may not, but it does to me. I'm making records for myself at this point, and luckily, enough people are along for the ride.
SILY: As much as I don't like to talk shit about Gen Z, because in many ways, they're the most tolerant, respectful generation yet, I saw the trend that some of them watch films sped up because their attention spans can't hold up.
SW: Wow. That's the first I've heard of that. The multi-tasking thing, "I'm gonna check my email, watch a movie, look at my phone every 10 seconds." It's just different. I don't want to make a judgement. When people get cynical or disdainful of a 7-year-old looking at the games on their iPad, I think, "Maybe we're just training a new era of humanity for what's next." Our great-grandparents had horses and buggies. We evolve. Maybe the way things are now is just part of the evolution. That's okay! Maybe there will be something fabulous. Maybe this is the next step to transporting into a new level of consciousness that will put us to shame. How do I know? It will be long after my time. I'm 64 now, and I think I've got hopefully a lot of years left of making records and not standing still. That's exciting. Maybe I'll make a record that will blow my current mind. That'll thrill me.
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lifestyle079 · 6 months ago
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Get investment for startup business
Every small business man wants to start business properly but for some reason they cant do properly here is those reason
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corinthianism · 1 year ago
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corinthianism's fic recs
here are my personal favorite fanfics! idk how often i'll update this, but i hope you like them as much as i do :) *indicates smut
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last updated: march 26, 2024
MARVEL
loki laufeyson - from the void, with love — by whirlybirbs (my fav fanfic of all time!!! i think about this fic several times in a day bro) - riptide — by starks-hero - the tailor* (series) — by birdofhermes (ao3) - time after time (series) — by goldencherriess (ao3) - a friend from work — by cozy_the_overlord (ao3)
thor odinson - god of fertility* (request) — by charnelhouse - highway don't care (but i do, i do)* (part one, part two, part three) — by spacelabrathor
peter parker (andrew garfield) - agree to disagree — by delicate-dorothea - nerdy peter (request) — by webslingingslasher - good boy x bad girl trope (request) — by webslingingslasher - hold you here, my loveliest friend* — by p3mybeloved - your friendly neighborhood sensitive spider* — by jin0 - glad you're home — by withahappyrefrain - the mechanics of a soul — by irndad - 3 is the magic number* — by withahappyrefrain - crush — by ptersparkers - as it goes — by forever-rogue - here comes the sun (part one, part two, part three) — by withahappyrefrain - stability, reciprocity, and a romance for the ages (series) — by privateanxieties (ao3 - need an account to read)
steven grant (moon knight) - hold me close — by stormkobra-5 - gift of min* — by astroboots - puzzles* — by stormkobra-5 - first time* — by luvpedropascal - domestic adonis* — by peterman-spideyparker - where it starts — by silversweetpea - fallen from heaven, grown on earth* (series) — by davosmymaster (ao3) - call me poe* — by kittyfandom (ao3) - elemental — by batsingotham (ao3) - the boy with the thorn in his side — by eating_flowers (ao3)
marc spector (moon knight) - not him — by loud-mouth-loser - it's worth it, it's divine* — by the-archxr - i'm getting to know someone — by davosmymaster (ao3)
wade wilson (deadpool) - tea and sympathy (series) — by bucketsoffrogs (ao3)
SHERLOCK (BBC)
sherlock holmes - your hidden strength — by okay-j-hannah - sublime dexterity* (part one, part two) — by daydreamtofiction - literally everything by starks-hero
SUPERNATURAL
sam winchester - playing house (part one, part two) — by uncouth-the-fifth - baby i'll stay (heaven can wait) — by uncouth-the-fifth - move over.* — by ggwritesstuff - where's your head at?* — by beau55515 - birthdays: sam winchester style* — by karleekarma (ao3) - the comforts of home — by zepskies - under the hood* — by shawslut
dean winchester - whether you like it or not — by kbeautimous (ao3) - reading you wrong — by zepskies - cherished — by thatonewriter15 (ao3) - soft touch — by wearywinchester - i love her, that's why* — by kaleldobrev - drivin' me crazy* — by lis-likes-fics
castiel - salt n' lick* — by aperfectgrace (ao3) - a bite of apple pie (series) — by ac_deanc (ao3)
THE SANDMAN
the corinthian - bring me a dream* (series, ongoing) — by placeinthemiddleofnowhere - nihil — by lis-likes-fics
dream/morpheus - sweet dreams (are made of this) — by stranger-nightmare
CRIMINAL MINDS
aaron hotchner - from eden — by heliotropehotch - gold star — by honeypiehotchner - love, an abstract concept — by luveline - honeymoon phase* (series) — by hotchsbitch (ao3)
THE BOYS
soldier boy (he's absolutely horrible but so. so. hot.) - break me down* (series) — by zepskies (go read their other stuff too!) - talk to me — by zepskies
homelander (also absolutely horrible. would sleep with him.) - if i can't have you — by watchstarscollide - milky white* — by after-witch
GAME OF THRONES
jaime lannister - i'm not made by design — by ichorai (this legitimately changed my brain chemistry)
STAR WARS
obi-wan kenobi - like turning on the light* — by full-time-make-believer (deactivated acc) (this also changed the trajectory of my life) - where it wasn't* — by 221bshrlocked - your thoughts are loud — by spidersbane - empty me out* — by 221bshrlocked - house of memories* (series) — by meshlasolus - bad idea, right?* (series) — by mischiefling (ao3) - you make me feel like dancing — by saradika (ao3) - it's a wonderful lie — by firstofficerwiggles (ao3) - temptation's kiss — by karasong (ao3) - you make my dreams* — by wickedscribbles (ao3) - like a living mirage — by karasong (ao3) - broken drought* — by rosalindbeatrice (ao3) - never grow up — by doihavetoloseyoutoo (ao3) - never ending story — by kybercrystal (ao3) - volveré* — by kxnobi (ao3)
din djarin (the mandalorian) - the savior* (part one, part two, part three) — by dindjiarin - significant — by softlyspector - touching din — by archieimagines - uncharted territory* — by pedrito-friskito - creed* — by wheresarizona - home is wherever i'm with you* (part one, part two, part three) — by saradika
DRACULA (BBC)
count dracula - the székely* (series) — by theplumsoldier
LOTR/THE HOBBIT
thranduil oropherion - a boon* (series) — by inksplots (ao3) - beauty and the beast (series) — by tamurilofrivendell (ao3)
DOCTOR SLEEP
dan torrance - of monsters and men* — by helaintoloki & obitwo - domestic life (headcanons) — by thornsinmycrown - smut alphabet* — by daincrediblegg
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teapartyprincess4two · 9 months ago
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Hi
Can i ask for a johnnie guilbert x reader where the reader is a friend of tara who is a very private person, so she gets know in the channel as "baby" and people start to notice that johnnie gets shy and is always looking somewhere off camera (to her)
A LOTTTT of pinning by johnnie (like so much it hurts)
And maybe at the end he confesses she kisses him and a lil sum-sum 😏
Thank uuuuu 😘
Babygirl- J. Guilbert
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pairing: shy!reader x Johnnie
classification: fluff
warning: use of y/n, slight cursing, slow build up, Jake and Tara are dating in this, suggestive content but NO smut, very long
inspiration: request^^, Deaf, Mute, and Blind Baking, Becoming Tara Yummy for a Day
summary: You didn’t choose a life in the limelight, you were just famous by association, and now you’ve earned yourself the nickname “babygirl” by the entire internet.
Most people wish they had the fame you had, they spend their entire life reaching for an unattainable dream that fell in your lap by coincidence. They wish for the fancy cars, the expensive clothes, and especially to be so famous they’re stopped by fans on the street for a picture.
Tara, your best friend, was one of those people. She spent her childhood and teenage years fangirling over pop stars and YouTubers, hoping that one day people would be fangirling over her too. She worked hard to earn the platform she has today, bringing you along with her to the top. But you never asked for any of this.
At first her newfound fame didn’t affect you, you were just a recurring background character in her videos and would sometimes, but very rarely, have a main role in them. Although you tried remaining in the background, the internet is quick to get attached to shy, background characters and before you knew it the fans were begging for more content with you.
So now you and Tara are a well known YouTube duo and you’re featured in almost every one of her videos, most of the time opting to participate from behind the camera. You especially remain behind the scenes when Jake and Johnnie are involved, specifically because you’re never able to hide your crush on Johnnie and would probably die from embarrassment if the fans caught on.
Like today for example, Jake and Johnnie are over at your house filming. They’re filming a video they’ve filmed many times before, they’re turning Tara emo. The three of them are piled onto the couch, discussing topic after topic as Johnnie packs on black eyeshadow on Tara’s eyes.
“Ow, Johnnie. You’re hurting me!” she squeals as Johnnie accidentally pokes her in the eye with the bristles of the brush. You can’t help but giggle from behind the camera, watching as Johnnie becomes flustered. “Sorry! I only ever do my own makeup, okay?” he apologizes, not becoming any more gentle with his motions. Johnnie glances at you quickly, a smile forming on his face because of your laughter.
“Why are you laughing, Y/n? You’re next,” Jake chimes in, following his statement with a boisterous laugh. Your face flushes slightly as you reply with a laugh, “no I’d prefer not to be tortured.” Johnnie laughs at this, sending you a fake pout, “you hate my look that much?”
Your face becomes even more red, if that was even possible. You didn’t mean the comment like that. Tara, whose face is being attacked with makeup, chimes in, “No, Y/n is too babygirl for this.”
“Oh God, you’re making me sound so high maintenance,” you laugh, shaking your head in disbelief at Tara’s comment. “It’s true though!” she exclaims, turning to face you just as Johnnie begins applying eyeliner, causing a black streak to run from the corner of her eye to her hairline.
“Guys, Y/n is probably the most high maintenance out of the four of us. She gets a manicure exactly every two weeks, she gets her hair redyed like once a month, her room is NEVER dirty. She almost never ever has dirty laundry, AND she irons her clothes. Who irons their clothes?” Tara exclaims, flailing her arms in the air dramatically.
“So yes, she’s babygirl,” Tara’s talking to the camera now, completely oblivious to her appearance. You scrunch your name at the nickname, the internet tended to latch onto things like that, “First of all, you look ridiculous right now. And secondly, don’t call me that. I don’t need to be known as ‘babygirl’ for the rest of my life,” you reply, laughing as Johnnie tries to fix his mistake but fails.
Jake, who’s sitting on the couch next to Johnnie, straightens up and leans forward to look at Tara. He immediately laughs at the sight, the black eyeliner smudged all over her face. “You’re just mad that it has a nice ring to it,” Tara retorts, choosing to ignore the mess Johnnie made. You scoff, glad that the camera isn’t on you to catch how your eyes train on Johnnie.
“Okay, but doesn’t it sound cute?” Tara proposes the question to the boys, waiting expectantly for them to answer. Jake was always quick to agree with her, it was a trait she trained him to have over the years of their relationship, “yeah, it’s pretty cute.” Tara nods her head in triumph, turning to Johnnie for his response.
Johnnie doesn’t know what to say, he agrees that the nickname is cute, but he’s afraid he’ll say too much and expose his crush for you. “Johnnie?” Tara says, widening her eyes as she awaits his response.
“What was the nickname again?” Johnnie asks, trying to act casual. But if the cameras zoomed in they’d easily catch how his hands tremble as he fixes Tara’s eyeliner. “Babygirl?” he reiterates, attempting to sound confused and oblivious. Tara nods her head, causing Johnnie to mess up once again, but he’s too busy trying to keep his composure to care.
Coming from him the nickname doesn’t sound so bad, it actually makes you want to take back everything you just said. “Babygirl is cute,” he murmurs, sending you a small glance before quickly turning back towards Tara. You hide your face in your hands, trying to hide your flushed cheeks and the smile that won’t go away no matter how hard you try.
“Enough with the babygirl talk,” you groan, but you really loved hearing him say it.
From that moment on, you were known as babygirl within the fandom. You couldn’t escape the nickname no matter how hard you tried, and the fans loved teasing you about it. Whether it be through edits, Instagram comments, or tweets; the fans were always calling you the nickname.
Johnnie, Jake and Tara are currently filming yet another video, despite your protests. The three of them are standing behind the kitchen counter, with either tape on their mouths, earmuffs on, or blindfolded. They were trying to bake a cake, something they struggled to do even without the inhibiting factors, so all they were really doing was making a big mess.
They understand your hesitance with being on camera, so they never force you to make any special appearances, but you still loved to watch. You sit behind the counter, just out of view of the camera, watching in amusement as the three interact.
Johnnie keeps getting distracted by you, fumbling and stuttering his way through the intro. You watch as Johnnie struggles to find the supplies needed for the video, searching through every cabinet in the kitchen. “Every time Johnnie says he’s ready, he’s never ready,” Jake comments, adjusting the black beanie on his head. “Where the fuck did I put it? No, Jake where did you put it?” Johnnie replies, scavenging for the baking supplies.
“They’re in the pantry,” you comment, walking over to Johnnie briefly and guiding him towards the pantry. Johnnie smiles at you, grateful that there’s at least one sane person here to help him. The interaction was caught on camera, but you were too distracted to realize.
“Thanks babygirl,” Tara exclaims, bopping her head to the music blasting through her headphones. You roll your eyes, helping Johnnie take everything out of the grocery bags and sprawling them out onto the counter. Once everything is in order, Johnnie’s mouth is quickly covered with a sticker, but he’s happy he isn’t blindfolded because he can keep sneaking glances at you.
The entire situation was chaotic, none of them had any clue how to communicate properly and they had less knowledge on how to bake a cake. Jake’s arms were stretched forward as he tried finding his way through the kitchen, Tara’s loud singing making it hard for them to concentrate on one task alone.
Tara, who wore the headphones, was more focused on singing than the cake. You watch them intently, unable to stop yourself from laughing, “you need to whisk the cake!” Tara, who can’t hear a single thing you’re saying, repeats your statement causing you to burst into laughter.
Johnnie pulls out a plastic butter knife, deeming it appropriate for the task. “Get the beater!” Tara yells, following it by belting out song lyrics. Johnnie has no idea what Tara is talking about, so he sends you a pleading look. If there’s anyone here who’s going to help him finish this cake, it’s you.
“The whisk, get the whisk!” you exclaim, trying to talk over Tara’s singing as best as possible.
“What’s going on?!” Jake asks, one of his flailing arms slapping both Johnnie and Tara. Johnnie’s laughs are muffled by the sticker as he holds the whisk out for Jake, guiding him to the bowl.
“Babygirl?!” Tara is being so loud, her voice a good three octaves higher than normal. “Stop yelling!” you exclaim, but she ignores you and changes the song, continuing to belt out the lyrics.
“Y/n, we need your help,” Jake comments, stirring the bowl so aggressively that it was twirling. “We have no idea what we’re doing,” he continues, lifting the whisk up and blindly taking a lick.
“JAKE DON’T LICK IT!” Tara yells.
Johnnie’s laughter and shocked scream are muffled, his face scrunched up as he laughs uncontrollably, and you can’t look away. You wish you weren’t so shy, so that way you’d be able to join them in this fun activity without feeling anxious.
“This cake is going to be so bad,” you chuckle, catching Johnnie’s attention. His eyes linger on you for a little too long, a moment the fans were definitely going to clip and edit.
“What did you say?! Did you say my singing is bad?!” Tara is still yelling, following each and every statement with loud singing.
Many dirty dishes and a messy kitchen later, the cake is finally done. The oven rings throughout the kitchen, and Jake and Tara send Johnnie to fish the hot pan out. The cake didn’t look too bad, but considering you watched them make it, you weren’t too excited to actually try it.
“You have to wait until it cools to frost it!” Tara exclaims, the headphones causing her volume to be more than pleasant. Johnnie can’t respond because of the sticker, and he doesn’t want to wait for it to cool, so he continues haphazardly spreading the icing over the camera. Jake, on the other hand, is in his own world.
“That actually looks disgusting. It’s raw,” you gasp, watching as Johnnie lifts the spatula to reveal an uncooked, watery mess. “It’s undercooked!” Tara yells, her inability to hear you causing her to repeat everything you say in different words.
Johnnie’s muffled laughter is infectious, earning a string of laughter from you. “Let’s just eat it,” Jake suggests, facing the complete opposite direction of the group. The beanie on his head inhibits him from seeing the state of the cake, but even if he could see it, he would probably still ask for a bite.
“Wait let me help,” you get up from your seat and walk behind the countertop, immediately searching for something to serve the cake in. “This is gonna have to do it,” you hand Johnnie three plastic cups. He scoops up the raw batter, the liquid cake jiggling in the cup and running down the sides, immediately coating his fingers in frosting and batter.
“We’re gonna get salmonella,” Tara is staring at the goopy mess in shock, how had they managed to mess up such a simple recipe?
“I wanna see… I think we should take this off,” Jake yanks his beanie off, a fit of laughter attacking him as soon as he sees the state of the cake. Tara was subconsciously poking at it, creating a big hole in the center. Johnnie’s hands were full of chocolate frosting, and he held them up in exasperation as he waited for someone to remove the sticker from his mouth.
“Here lemme help you,” you murmur, gentle hands removing the sticker. Your touch lingers a little too long, but he doesn’t complain. If he had it his way, you’d have your arms around his neck and his lips would be on yours.
“Thanks, babygirl,” he whispers in return, loving how easily the nickname riled you up. You hated how much you loved hearing him say it.
“This is actually not that bad!” Tara’s boisterous voice breaks you two from the intimate moment, forcing you to reenter reality. “Try it,” Jake suggests, going back for a second scoop.
Johnnie is hesitant, but he grabs the cup and puts a spoonful of the raw cake batter in his mouth. His face contorts in disgust, but it couldn’t be that bad, could it? “Here let me try,” you take the cup from him, using his spoon to take your own bite.
As soon as the cake hits your tongue, you’re gagging. “Oh wow this is horrible,” you say, fighting the urge to throw up. They’re all laughing at your reaction, Jake pulling a long hair from his mouth in the process. “I love this hair, adds flavor.”
“Oh my God, I’m gonna throw up,” the hair Jake held between his fingers was only making the situation worse for you.
“See, she’s so babygirl,” Tara laughs, joking about the situation even if she found it equally as gross.
It seemed like your friends were always filming because every time the four of you hung out there always seemed to be a camera lurking not too far. Like today for example, Tara gathered everyone for a casual hangout, but once you arrived she explained that everyone was going to be living like her for the day. At first, you declined her invitation, making a lame excuse about not feeling good. But she begged and begged for you to be in the video, and before you knew it you were an integral part of it.
“Okay, since you guys are becoming me for the day, it’s only fitting that you dress the part. So, put on these track suits,” Tara says as she hands you, Jake, and Johnnie each a pink track suit. You’re trying to hide from the camera as much as possible, but Tara keeps pulling you back in every time you almost wander away.
The three of you shimmy into the outfits, immediately feeling the Tara Yummy essence wash over you.
“This is sexy,” Jake comments, admiring his figure as the sweatpants hang loosely from his hips. “I’m serving cunt,” Johnnie says, joining Jake in admiring himself. Their tattoos peeked through, contrasting the pink outfits entirely.
You emerge from the hallway seconds later, the track suit providing you with a newfound confidence, “I feel so stupid, but I also kinda feel like that bitch.” You stand still, allowing the camera to pan to you before hitting a dramatic pose. You turn around to show the camera the backside of the suit, the word babygirl written in curly white letters across your ass. “Slay, babygirl, slay,” Tara chimes in, strutting over to you and hitting the same pose.
“Let’s please not start with the babygirl jokes,” you groan jokingly, adjusting the sweatpants that kept riding up, you were starting to get a wedge. But you knew you weren’t going to escape the babygirl comments today, especially not with it written across your backside. It was like a label that you were forced to wear for the rest of the day, and the fans would surely seize the opportunity and run with it. To top it all off, the four of you were so well color coordinated that you looked like a 90’s girl group, ready to perform on stage at any moment.
“This is fun, but I still don’t understand why I’m being forced to do this,” you say, staring at Tara blankly.
“Because you’re my best friend,” she replies cheerily, offering you a big smile and booping your nose. It was hard to stay mad at her. She walks away, joining Jake as they engage in conversation.
“And you’re babygirl,” Johnnie teases, coming up from behind you unexpectedly, immediately causing a blush to form on your face. He loved watching you get flustered over the nickname. He laughs at your reactions, relishing every bit of it.
“Alright, first things first, time to eat. Mama’s hungry,” Tara says, ignoring yours and Johnnie’s interaction before facing the camera and leading everyone to the car. Jake and Tara are far ahead, leaving you and Johnnie to trail behind.
“It’s gonna be leaves,” Johnnie whispers to you, earning a laugh in response. He loved making you laugh. “Yeah, how much you wanna bet we end up at Health Nut?” you ask, settling the bet with a firm handshake between you and Johnnie. His hand holds a firm grip on yours, almost like he’s hesitant to let go as he says goofily, “$2, take it or leave it.”
As predicted, the four of you end up at Tara’s favorite restaurant; Health Nut. It’s no one else’s restaurant of choice, but you’re living as Tara for the day so it doesn’t matter what the rest of you want. You’ve been here with Tara enough to be familiar with the menu, so you order a simple salad and drink before moving to the side and allowing Johnnie to order. Once he’s finished ordering, he pays for your meals before letting Jake and Tara order.
Johnnie is playing it up for the cameras, trying to embarrass himself with his actions before the pink track suit does it for him. He’s sitting on a toddler chair and you stand next to him, choosing him as your comfort zone.
Because you always opted to remain behind the scenes, most of the viewers weren’t completely aware of yours and Johnnie’s dynamic. You two were always clinging to each other in uncomfortable or unfamiliar situations, making quiet jokes to make the other laugh. You both also had a huge crush on each other, which further served as a gravitational pull.
“Order for… babygirl?” the employee calls out, a hint of confusion in their voice as they read the name on the order. This immediately causes you to laugh out loud. “You did not do that,” you whisper shout at Johnnie, who held his hands up in feigned defense as he tries not to burst into laughter. You awkwardly grab the food, both of youwalking over to Tara and Jake’s table.
“Did they just call you babygirl?” Tara asks as soon as you’re sitting down. “Yes dude, fucking Johnnie told them that was my name,” you laugh, hiding your red face in your hands. They call out Tara’s name and she dismisses herself briefly to pick up the food.
“Let’s go!” She exclaims from the restaurant’s front door, bag and drink in hand as she pushes the door open and walks outside. “Oh, I guess Tara Yummy eats in the car,” Jake says sarcastically, the three of you following Tara to the car.
Once you’re in the car, you and Johnnie sit in the backseat while Jake and Tara occupy the front. “I wanted to eat in there, but you guys are so embarrassing,” Tara says, handing Jake his food.
She doesn’t give any of you enough time to respond, “you guys are already pretty embarrassing, but the pink track suits make us all look genuinely crazy.” She’s obnoxiously shaking her salad from the front seat, causing the entire car to rock.
“Damn, don’t gotta put your whole pussy into it,” Jake laughs, earning a sly remark from Tara. Soon, they’re lost in a conversation of their own, leaving you and Johnnie to talk quietly in the back seat.
“Why do you keep pushing this ‘babygirl agenda,’ sir?” You ask, both in true curiosity and to make light of the nickname. He blushes, mindlessly picking at the salad in front of him.
“Oh come on, don’t get all shy now,” you tease, piling up a good bite on your fork. He smiles at you awkwardly, preparing to admit something embarrassing.
“I think it’s kinda cute,” he admits with a shrug, taking a big bite of his food. Your eyes blow open in shock, this whole time you thought he was teasing you, but now it turns out he thinks it’s a cute nickname? “Don’t make fun of me,” Johnnie pleads in defense through a mouthful of food.
“I’m not, I just wasn’t expecting that,” you respond, trying not to be too loud. You couldn’t help it though, your giggles were soon filling the backseat. There was something about the confession that gave you hope that maybe you and Johnnie could be more than just friends. But you don’t want to get your hopes up, ir could easily all be for the video. You’re about to say something crazy and bold, but you’re cut off by Tara.
“Are you two done flirting? Cause I’m in the mood for coffee.” Leave it to her to ruin a sweet moment.
The day is finally over and the four of you are now wearing pajamas, reminiscing on the day’s events. Tara and Jake leave once the video is over, leaving you and Johnnie to lay on the large couch. The room is silent, but it’s not awkward, you’re both just catching up and joking.
“I was serious earlier, by the way,” he murmurs, staring at the ceiling above. “Yeah?” you say in a teasing tone, rolling over on your side so you’re facing him.
He takes a deep breath before continuing, “Yeah. If I’m being honest, I’ve had a crush on you for a long time. I’m surprised you haven’t noticed, I mean the fans definitely have.” You mindlessly play with the strings of your robe, subconsciously scooting closer to him.
“So that’s why you keep calling me babygirl?”
“Mmm yeah, mostly. I think it sounds cute,” he smiles down at you, your figure just slightly further down the couch. You feel a surge of confidence wash over you, something you don’t usually feel as a shy person, and straddle his lap.
He looks at you in shock, both arms limp at his sides. “Say it,” you whisper, moving your face dangerously closer to his. You use your hands to grab his, placing them on your waist. He feels excited, nervous, and shocked all at the same time, was this really happening?
You grind your hips down onto him, hoping to elicit a response from him. “Babygirl,” he whimpers, the sudden friction sending a shiver up his spine that has his hips bucking. You hum in response, finally inching close enough to connect your lips to his.
You’re in a heated make out session, completely obvious to the world around you. Johnnie’s hands are roaming your body, your hips are grinding down onto him, and your fingers are tangled in his hair. You kiss from his lips down to his neck, sucking and biting the delicious skin until you leave a hickey.
The situation is about to escalate, but Jake and Tara interrupt before it can. They saunter in loudly, both you and Johnnie jumping off of each other in shock.
“About damn time!” Jake says, applauding you both for finally make a move on each other. “Get it babygirl!” Tara laughs, joining Jake in his obnoxious round of applause.
“So annoying,” you groan, throwing a pillow at them and shooing them out. Once they’re out of the room, you and Johnnie share a sheepish look.
“You’re never escaping that nickname,” he chuckles, silently pulling you back on top of him. “That’s okay. If you’re the one saying it, I don’t mind,” you murmur, kissing him again.
“Okay, babygirl.”
MASTERLIST
a/n: Such a good request, I LUV being challenged with these specific requests!!! Hope I did it justice bby, I rewrote this like 5 times & had a different storyline each time. Also, I mentioned the famous hickey (💀💀) and I changed it from “baby” to “babygirl” because he mentioned that he’s “so babygirl” on Trisha’s podcast.
anyways, enjoy hunny bunches. Luv uuuuu
-L.A.M.B👼🏻💗
taglist: @nicksmainbitch @sturniololovers @mayhem-72 @worldlxvlys @gnxosblog @meg-sturniolo @creamoncreamoncream2 @mattnchrisworld @sanyi5 @lustfulslxt @whicked-hazlatwhore @tworosesblackthorn @mxqdii @fawned01
note: if you want to be tagged in my fanfic related posts, you can access my TAGLIST and comment 💐
note: requests are open, I will be writing as many as possible because you guys have sooo many good ideas. Please be patient 💗✨
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amazinglyashy · 13 days ago
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hello!! can I request fluff reactions of the boys to mc craving something to eat in the middle of the night?
thank youu have a good day 🥰
I'm laughing because you asked this like it would be the most off the cuff situation, when literally every single one of these men canonly have an awful sleep schedule and nighttime habits. Like, there is absolutely nothing weird about this at all except the fact that you're awake when they're awake.
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LaDS men when you crave something to eat in the middle of the night -
Zayne -
In all honestly, he was just now getting home from a shift at Akso hospital, so it takes him just a few moments to register why the situation in front of him was abnormal.
He can't help it, he's usually coming home in the early evening, not at three in the morning.
So when he sees you sitting at the counter, snacking on something, he simply sets his stuff down near the door and removes his tie, before coming over to give you a peck on the cheek in greeting.
He's made it halfway to the bathroom, yawning wide and telling himself to get some good sleep tonight- well, technically this morning- wait… morning…? What on earth were you doing up-
He's back in the kitchen in a second, with your eyes flickering back to him in an innocent question, confused as to why he's looking at you so bewildered.
'Why', is the only thing that comes out of his mouth, and when you finally process what he means by that, you can't help but give him a chuckle and a smile, still eating whatever you had gotten from the fridge or cupboard.
"I was hungry."
Not even going to question why you acted on your impulses to eat at three in morning. He'll just sigh, and tell you to make sure you get to bed soon for the sake of your health and mood tomorrow. Gives you one more kiss before heading off to get ready for bed himself.
Sylus -
He's probably just getting up.
So when he starts to rise and notices you lying awake, he's going to be confused, hoping to himself that you didn't have some freakish nightmare, especially not any possibly involving your past experiences with him-
No.
Turns out, you're currently trying to make yourself go back to sleep, despite wanting something warm to eat, but also not wanting to cook.
He's going to find it terribly endearing, letting out a little snicker and making you blush at his reaction, his hand carding through your hair as he leans down over you.
"I think you're forgetting something, kitten. I wake up around this time- meaning, I need to have something for breakfast before working on anything. You do know you can ask the chef to make you something right now, right sweetie?"
He won't say it, but you can tell he's so pleased to be eating with you, even though he knows you'll be heading off to bed right after, it's a nice change of pace for him. He's more than happy to have your company, no matter the odd hour.
Rafayel -
He's finally ready to kick himself into going to bed, but the moment he opens the bedroom door, he runs into you.
At first, he's worried.
Secondly, he's miffed that you got up to come and harrass him into coming to bed again.
Thirdly, he's extra miffed that none of the previous answers are true, but you're actually just hungry.
He's seen the way you snack, he knows you're not just making something up. And he can't exactly let you go back to bed hungry so-
That's how he ended up making a late night dish rather than finally heading to bed.
Any protests to him cooking fell on deaf ears. He's having none of that. He can tell you're still sleepy, and since he hasn't wound down yet, he isn't. So he's more than happy to cook for you.
Definitely wasn't hungry himself, definitely didn't forget to have dinner, no sir-
He'll sit and eat with you, asking if you had any interesting dreams, before making up scenarios that may have occurred involving food monsters and treat fairies.
He's not trying to hear that beautiful sound that is your laugh. Not at all. He's trying even less hard to make the meal last longer, just so that he can spend a little bit more time with you-
Xavier -
He probably saw you on his own way to get a snack, in all honesty.
You two just have to share a look, contemplating the situation, before the both of you begin to grin, realizing what the other is awake doing.
He offers to walk you around the block to the corner shop that's open 24hrs, so that the two of you can get some junk food or spicy microwave noodles to have together.
If you don't want to go anywhere, he'll either go himself or order delivery from somewhere that's open all hours so that you guys don't need to cook. He doesn't want to put out a fire for his attempts this late at night, and you either don't feel like it, or you're not the best at it yourself.
(You're still better than him though.)
Whenever the two of you end up getting your food, you sit together on the couch, legs folded over one another as you tangle together to watch an episode of something you've been binging.
You'll both wake up completely different though- having fallen asleep together on the couch after finishing your food, and ending up snuggled closely, a bundle of warm blankets and pajamas mixed with the relaxing sensation of the other's breathing.
Thank goodness today was the both of your day off...
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sunghoonnsupremacy · 10 months ago
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OPEN UP. - perv!roomate sim jaeyun.
- warnings : pussy eating, cnc, multiple orgasms, jakes a perv, panty stealing and somnophilia
- word count : 418
- a/n : this was originally an ask but i accidentally deleted it so i hope the anon still sees it<3
- synopsis : jake didn't plan to catch feelings for somebody this year, especially not his hot roommate. but what can he do? its winter break and he just knows you haven't gotten laid for as long as you've been living there so being the gentleman that he is, he decides to help you out!
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it's two am. you're laying on your bed with a dimly lit night, trying to fall asleep. it's been a long day for you. going to school amongst having to work a shift as a barista definitely isn't your thing, yet here you are. as you slip into a deep slumber, you don't hear the door creaking open slowly.
jake slips into your room wearing his sweats and a black tshirt with his hair messy. he seems to be admiring you, as he walks closer to you with his eyes glued to your shirt riding up, showing your panties. he curses quietly to himself before sitting on the bed next to your sleeping figure. jake brushes the hair out of your face and kisses your forehead.
sweet, right? 
not really.
his hand slips down your panties and he immediately groans at the heat that's radiating from your slightly wet pussy. you stir in your sleep, seemingly not waking up any time soon. he sits behind you and slowly takes off your panties. the visual hitting him better than expected.
 "fuck.." he spreads your legs open and leans in to lick at your pussy from the back, not before tucking your panties into his back pocket.
taking a long strip with his tongue, jake groans at your sweet taste. you start breathing heavier in your sleep and weakly attempt to close your legs.
jake clicks his tongue and harshly spreads them to slurp up at your pussy. his tongue maliciously licks around your clit as his fingers circle around your opening. by now you've waken up, which jake hasn't noticed hence he's in pussy heaven right now. you squirm around with widened eyes and soft pants continuously leaving your mouth.
"j-jake what are you doing?" a whimper leaves your mouth when he looks up and detaches his lips from you. he starts caressing the inside of your thighs softly, "couldn't resist it, sorry baby. just lean back and enjoy it" a strangled yelp leaves your mouth when he wraps his arms around your thighs, slamming his face onto your pussy and eating you out like never before.
your legs instinctively close around his head from the amount of pleasure. "open up, baby." he forces them open and holds them down so you can't do anything but let him do his thing.
as the night continues, you've already had three orgasms on his tongue, fingers and most importantly his dick. cuddling your shaking form close, jake wraps his arms around you and pecks your lips softly.
"sweet dreams, roomie."
2K notes · View notes
heegyukeluv · 3 months ago
Text
... and a bit more (sjy)
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EXTRA FOR "A HUNDRED SUNSETS" (read it here)
pairing: jake x afab!reader
synopsis: It's been years since you and Jake started dating, now dealing with adult life, which became an easy thing as you both shared it together, full of love and support. Yet, years in a relationship can make you wonder if your loved one still sees you with the same intensity. So you decided to reassure Jake that no matter how many years you stay with him, your love and desire will remain as passionate as ever.
my's note: i’m so obsessed with these characters AND SO ARE YALL WTFFF!! I’M THRILLED WITH ALL THE SUPPORT I’VE RECEIVED FOR THIS WORK i did NOT expect this to get this many likes and reblogs and comments and stuff 😭😭😭😭 sooooo here’s a lil gift as a THANK YOU!!! thank y’all for every word of appreciation towards my writing and my work. i really meant it!!! hope you enjoy this one as much as “a hundred sunsets” 💖
warnings: established relationship, jake is a bit insecure in this one, teacher jake (as a job! he’s not y/n’s teacher), pet names, reader blushing/turning red! smut w plot! (MINORS DO NOT INTERACT) - oral sex (f. receiving), slight choking (j does to y/n CONSENSUAL. SHE ASKED. and please for god’s sake don’t do it if you don’t know how to do it properly), reader kinda suffocates jake (but he likes that lol), j. cums inside, unprotected sex (don’t do it !!), car sex (oral only!! f. receiving). lmk if i missed something!!
wc: 7.5k
NOT PROOFREAD. 
taglist 💖: @yvnempire
Jake’s head was aching with the amount of highschoolers he was dealing with everyday.
Choosing that career path was a childhood dream come true; to be able to teach other people about what he loves the most – after you, of course – brought so much joy to his life, he was constantly on cloud nine. Having you by his side to celebrate every little achievement with him played a big part in that as well.
However, as with every other job, there were some days he wished to erase from his memory in order to forget not only how stressful it was, but how annoying some teenagers can be. 
Jake knew he didn’t had to worry about your feelings for him in any way.
You showered him with love and affection in every single action of yours and that was pretty much enough. You would pack him lunch with cute little love notes, you would stay with him until late while he read his articles and prepared his classes, you would pick him up every now and then to get him to a date – even after years, you both still loved watching the sunset together, whispering love promises until nightfall, only to continuing saying them under the moonlight. 
Your big smile and shining eyes greeting him whenever he got home acted like words unspoken, but just in case you made sure to say them constantly.
But sometimes there are things that some teenagers say that can really hurt your ego and hit you directly in your insecurities if you let them in. And the words he heard that day echoed through his mind the whole afternoon. 
You were working on some work papers in the living room when you heard the front door unlocking. Quickly you stood up to greet Jake with a hug.
You never understood how you always managed to miss Jake even now, after you both started to live together, but at some point you just gave up trying to figure it out, accepting your fate of never getting enough of your amazing boyfriend. 
“Oh, hey there, professor,” you welcomed him with a sweet smile, already cupping his face with your hands and placing a tender kiss on your favorite lips, the same plump, red and soft ones you always loved to feel on yours.
“Hey, babe.”
You tilted your head, confused. Although Jake reciprocated your kiss, the mood wasn’t right. 
You never expected Jake to be bright and cheerful all the time, never, especially when coming home from such stressful work. Alongside that, his intense studying sessions in order to get better at his job and eventually become a university teacher helped him to get overwhelmed from time to time, so you respected the moments he vented out about his burdens, listening with all your heart and asking him if he wanted some advice or just to be heart.
Most times he just asked for a warm hug and a kiss, and of course, you under no circumstances would deny such a heartwarming request.
You knew it was the minimum, but you appreciated how Jake never discounted his stress on you. Actually he would be always saying you were his stress reliever, so you really weirded out with his actions today. 
Not only was his demeanor quite off, kindly pulling you away without deepening the kiss to leave his bag and coat beside the door, but his face expressed something you read as concern and sadness.
You watched Jake walking quietly to your room without explaining a thing, so you followed him right away, heart hurting in worry. 
“What’s with the frown, my love?” You asked softly when you both arrived at the room almost at the same time, you behind Jake, who was now starting to get undressed. 
He said nothing as he took off his glasses to put on the nightstand and unbelted his dark blue trousers, sitting on the bed to unbutton the first buttons of his white dress shirt, not fully finishing any of his actions like he was in some internal dilemma preventing him from working properly.
Your concerned gaze followed his every move until you finally heard his voice. “Do you love me?”
Now was your time to frown as you approached him. “What’s this question, Jakey? Of course I love you,” you sat beside him and your hand almost instantly grabbed his to gently squeeze it, playing with his fingers.
He was glancing at a random spot on the floor while you tried to read his face. 
“No, but like, do you still think I’m attractive? Do you really feel desire for me or do you fake it?”
You could see he was a bit embarrassed for asking that so you, again, reassured him with your words and actions. “I’m really confused right now, my love. Of course I do feel desire for you, you’re the hottest man I’ve ever met. And yeah, you are attractive as fuck, Jakey,” you lifted his chin with your fingers to face you. “What’s with all that? Tell me what happened, mhm?”
Jake locked his eyes on you for a second, already feeling a bit better meeting his favorite two orbs looking at him with so much love, warmth and reassurance. However, although he appreciated every genuine feeling from you, he wasn’t asking you for any of that at the moment.
He needed to know if you still saw him as an attractive guy,  so he averted his gaze as he started to spill what was on his mind all day. 
“Some random kid told me that you’d easily leave me for a hot guy if I don’t treat you right, and I don’t normally care about what some of them say because y’know, teenagers and their full of nonsense minds, but–” He sighed, pain starting to drip all through his words. “I– I know that you love me, and I love you too. But what if– What if I don’t pleasure you enough?” His eyes searched for yours again, eyes a bit red like he was about to cry. “What if you realize you can find some other person that can fulfill your fantasies and desires in a way I can’t?”
Jake let everything out all at once, every corrosive thinking that dwelled him throughout the day, knowing he was in a safe space, that you were his safe place. You got a bit surprised with the sudden rant, but listened with care and attention to know what to do whenever he stopped, but your head was already spinning with all the information he was giving you. 
How could he think that? Jake was an incredible boyfriend, in a way that you worried to give him love enough to keep him close, because the thought of Jake leaving you frightened you too much.
You always felt like no action or words of yours could show him how much you loved and needed him around. To imagine he thinks a similar thing made your heart pound in pain.
“You’re hot and young and beautiful and so easy to love. Everytime I ask myself how I managed to bag a goddess like you. I can’t bear the idea of losing you, Y/N–”
You had to shut him up with a kiss, and then another, and another, until you felt him relaxing under your touch. You moved your body to sit on his lap, his hands looking for comfort on your hips right away. “You will never lose me, Jake,” you whispered, his warm breath brushing against your skin as you admired each feature of his pretty face. “I love you. I want you. Only you,” you pecked his lips again before continuing to speak with a small smile, your hands resting on his shoulders. “You’re everything I've ever wanted, you’re everything I need, my love,” and one more sweet kiss. “Don’t ever doubt that, okay?”
And then you finally kissed him properly, sighing when you felt his tongue searching for yours, touching you so intimately, so passionately, so full of love. Your hips were moving in little circles on his lap, already feeling yourself getting wet and his dick getting hard. 
You thought about sharing your own insecurities keeping the same theme, but that was Jake’s moment of being loved, and you were willing to let him know in every breath, touch, kiss, word of yours how much you cherished him, how much you adored his presence, how much you treasured every single moment with him, and of course, how aroused Jake could make you feel just by being close.
You never spoke directly to him about that, but Jake was magnetic. Your eyes always searched for him, observing how his movements seemed meticulously calculated to leave you wanting more, all the time making you lose your mind doing the simplest things.
Seeing him walking around the house wearing nothing but loose gray sweatpants that showed the hem of his boxers with his study glasses and messy hair always made you squeeze your thighs together and swallow hard on your seat.
Same thing whenever he got ready for work in the morning, getting all dressed up in his dress shirt with coats/blazers or just a casual long-sleeve shirt, never forgetting his black specs – everytime you had to hold yourself from tossing him back in the bed to ride his face with that fucking glasses. 
Or when he was focused on his studies, deep in thought with furrowed brows and lips pursed a bit, from time to time biting his tongue, making you worder how hard he could fuck you while looking at you like that.
And not to mention whenever you were in the car with Jake being the driver, his hands gripping on the wheel and his veiny arms popping out looking so unnecessary hot, to the point you almost had to ask him to pull over to fuck you deep with his slender pretty fingers.
You were so sure that your craving eyes shamelessly undressing him was noticeable, but now you got to know that maybe you should start to show off how he affected you more often in order to make Jake understand that his breathing near your ears alone could make you go wild.
You bit his bottom lip and pulled away while grabbing one of his hands from your back to lead it down to the hem of your shorts. “Feel that, Jakey?” You asked after forcing his hands to touch your clothed cunt, smirking. “Can you feel how wet I am just by kissing you, pretty boy?” Jake nodded dumbly while open-mouthed moaning on your lips just by feeling your already dampened panties, hooded eyes looking at you with nothing but passion and lust, his own dick growing hard in his pants. “That’s how much you affect me, my love.”
The whole atmosphere had switched and none of you complained, because the main reason for Jake's down feeling was the idea of losing you due him being unable to satisfy you, which you decided right away to tell and show him he was doing way more than you expected, and always so right.
Jake always surpassed your expectations. You were so fucking lucky.
“Let me love you, okay?” You quickly locked your lips one more time, addicted to his taste, before pushing him down to lay on his back on the sheets, hands leaving your warm, clothed pussy, to hold you still on top of him. “Let me show you how good you make me feel and how much I want you,” and your mouth searched for him again as if it never felt enough. 
Every touch of your sensitive area on his bulge was making both of you groan between the messy kiss you were sharing, the taste of his tongue on yours working as a drug, making you wonder if you could stay like that forever.
Unwilling you parted away again, getting out of the bed to start to undress yourself as a little show for Jake. That night fate designed you to choose to wear his favorite black set of lingerie, so he was watching you with hungry eyes, devouring each curve of your body with his eyes, like you were his favorite meal – and just to add, he would watch you the same way even if you were wearing torn clothes. Jake was so in love and obsessed with you, anything about you made him feel insane.
You gave him a smirk before removing your panties and climbing on him again, loving the way his eyes were glazed on your chest, the bra of the lingerie set making it squished together and too pretty for him to handle. He bit his own lip as if he was holding himself, breath growing heavy, the dim light of your shared bedroom making it look even hotter, with his messy hair, glistening, red, swollen lips and eyes full of adoration and desire for you. Only for you. 
“I need to eat you out,” he uttered in a hurry, almost sounding drunk when his hands touched your bare hips, caressing your warm skin and making you shiver. You smiled cheekily.
“Of course you do, pretty boy,” you planted a tender kiss on his nose, both of his cheeks, his chin and on his forehead, “That’s why I’ll be sitting on your pretty face right now,” and then a final kiss on his lips as you watched his eyes sparkle in joy and enthusiasm in anticipation, you couldn't hold a little laugh. 
Jake had a not so little oral fixation, always finding a way of placing his lips on you, nibbing or sucking any part of your skin he was able to, your pussy being his favorite. And who were you to deny such things? You always let him use your body for his own satisfaction, because you knew how hard he could get just by the thought alone of eating you out, and there were many times he came untouched while doing it. 
It was a win-win situation, with you hitting your best orgasms every single time, making your pretty noises just for him, dripping all over his tongue.
Jake’s heart fluttered with the view of you getting on your knees, hovering yourself while touching your dampened folds with your own fingers just to place your cunt directly on his mouth. He was in heaven, eyes instantly closing as he exhaled your scent, getting drunker and drunker on you.
You sat slowly on him, a little afraid of suffocating your cute boyfriend who now had his arms hugging your legs, pushing you down without a care in the world, like suffocating himself on you was everything he ever wanted. 
Jake always began with a big, long lick, collecting all you arousal just to feel your taste and mix it with his own saliva, drawing out a moan from you, before starting to suck you with passion, almost like he was slowly making out with your pussy, the tip of his nose constantly rubbing your sensitive clit as he went faster, the ragged breath tickling your skin while he was focused on you. 
Your hand searched for support on the headboard, the other unconsciously grabbing Jake’s hair just like you knew he loved, giving it a little pull once and while to show him how much pleasure he was giving you. 
“You always make me feel so, so good, Jakey,” you said with a gasp, your body reacting out of lust, hips rolling back and forth trying to match Jake’s rhythm. 
The whole visual underneath you showed a forbidden scene that only helped your arousal to increase; Jake’s sweaty hair was getting stuck on his forehead, eyes closed and arms holding you closer with his veiny hands squeezing your thighs, pushing you even more into his face. “And you look so fucking hot right now, Jaeyun. Shit.”
You threw your head back and rolled your eyes when he started to intercalate his movements to tongue-fucking you, lewd wet sounds now filling up the room. “Your mouth does wonders on me, you know that?” Your breath was heavy, your whole body on fire, the only thing coming across in your mind right now was to cum all over his face. 
You wanted to make sure Jake understood how fantastic of a job he was doing, like ever, and how much you loved the way he guided you through your pleasure, giving you everything you needed. “You always eat me so good, my pretty boy–” You interrupted yourself with a loud whimper when he focused on your clit, sucking, flicking his tongue on it. “I’m close, Jaeyun– fuck. I’m really close,” you could feel your orgasm building up on your core, Jake also noticed how your body was reacting by you avidly riding on his face, legs tensioning a bit, you already caring less about suffocating him or whatever – he always told you to go hard on him, and loved every time you did.
Jake was so in heaven.
He himself started to moan on your cunt, intensifying his attention on your clit, his mumbles vibrating in your sensitive area.
“You’re my precious boy, isn’t that right?” You said with your voice weak and heard a little muffed ‘mhm’ as a response. “So make me cum, yeah, Jakey?” 
To get you off was always Jake’s own pleasure, especially when he was using his mouth to do so. God, Jake loved to hear your pretty sounds, how you would moan his name so pleasing, your body trembling by pure lust, you losing yourself when you were close to your climax, overwhelmed by all his stimulus. 
So Jake focused even more to make you to cum. At this point you were a whimpering mess, rushing over to achieve your orgasm so desperately that small tears started to form in the corner of your eyes and your hands tightened on Jake’s hair when you finally did, spilling your juices all over his mouth.
Jake maintained his tongue working on you, passionately collecting all of you, groaning with delight as he felt your taste melting on his tongue.
You tried to catch your breath for a bit before removing yourself from Jake’s face, hissing when you felt your thighs burning due your own work and the position you stood for so long. You flopped on the bed besides Jake to recover yourself, listening to him gasping for air as well, but with a satisfied grin adorning his glistened, attractive lips.
“You are insane,” you whispered, smiling before propping yourself on your elbow to give him a sweet kiss, opposite to all the sexual atmosphere that drifted around the room minutes ago, your hands searching for comfort on his neck, deepening the touch.
“Yes, for you,” Jake replied between the kiss, shifting a bit to be on his side so he could give you proper access to his mouth, and also to rub his fingers on the bare skin of your waist, pulling you closer. When he did that, you felt his hard bulge brushing against you and startled, parting away from him to give a questioning expression.
“Jaeyun,” you touched his still clothed and neglected cock.
“Ah–” 
“Why didn’t you stop to at least remove your clothes?” You asked genuinely worried, already moving yourself to do what you just said. “This must be hurting so bad, my love,” you watched how his dick jumped out of his boxers when you took it off.
“It is…” He whispered, face contorted in pleasure and relief when your warm, soft hands started to pump his shaft. “But you’re always my priority, sugar,” he said with a smirk, looking down to watch you for a second.
You loved how Jake managed to make you smile and your heart flutter in moments like those, constantly ensuring that you felt loved before anything else.
You collected the precum leaking out of his tip with your fingers, to ease your movements as you accelerated a bit. Due to his sensitivity, he almost instantly opened his mouth with a loud moan and started to buck his hips into your touch, wanting more of it while whispering “P–Please...”
You kept giving the attention he needed, cupping his tip with your hand to move it in circles. Jake whimpered, voice cracking a little ‘fuck’. He was melting under your touch, so sensitive, his body slightly squirming beneath you, needing more of you.
Although you were enjoying the view and how reactive he was just by your hand alone, you wanted more of him, so you voiced it out in a serious tone “I really need you to fuck me,” as you moved away, leaving him missing your warmth around his dick so you could lay on your back on the bed.
Jake immediately understood the assignment, positioning himself over you, his necklace dangling near your face. You smirked as you pulled him closer so your mouth could meet his, but he broke the contact before you could do so.
“Let me just get rid of this shirt bef–”
“No!” You rushed to say, grabbing his arms to interrupt his attempt of removing his dress shirt, “Don’t, please,” you said quietly, feeling your cheeks burning by the shyness that hit on you, averting his curious gaze.
“Hm?” Jake lifted an eyebrow, puppy eyes trying to understand why you were reticent all of a sudden.
He decided to not undress himself fully as you asked to do so without questioning it much, leaning to kiss your neck, his soft lips already knowing every sweet spot of yours. His goal was to make you relaxed, reassuring you that whatever you said he would respect and listen with all the love he had for you.
“I have this fantasy…” You started to speak after a while, enjoying his light, still hot touches, now you being the one melting for him. 
“Yeah?” He whispered, keeping sucking, biting and kissing your neck, jawline and collarbone area, shivers spreading all over your body. He was thrilled with the idea of you sharing more from that side of yours, knowing damn well how hard to say it out loud was for you. Jake would always give you all the time in the world, though. 
You took advantage of his face being buried on your neck to keep talking with a slight lack of confidence. You were afraid of how Jake would react. “I–I always wanted you to– To fuck me wearing a dress shirt,” you stuttered a bit, but finally voiced out what have been on the back of your mind for a while, gulping nervously while your hands tried to find comfort on his hair, playing with it as a habit of tension.
You heard a little chuckle from Jake, which made you worry that he might find you a bit pathetic. 
But it was Jake, after all. The one that managed to surprise – and most important, to respect – you every single time. “You’re so cute,” wasn’t what you expected to hear. Jake pulled away, gently holding your chin for you to face him. “Does my gorgeous girlfriend get turned on by me wearing a dress shirt?” The sultry tone and the charming grin decorating his lips made you blushing even harder, not to mention the fluttering excitement in your stomach. “Did I get it right, sugar?”
You saw Jake shirtless countless times, yet the view right now of his chest showing just enough because the first buttons being undone alongside his dangling silver necklace was driving you insane, breath growing heavy as you licked your lips, not saying anything.
Every reaction of you being catched by Jake’s sharp gaze. “I need your words, my love,” he whispered, teasingly brushing his lips on yours.
“Yes, Jakey,” you whispered back, trying to push your embarrassment away. “You look so hot on it.”
“There you go,” he smiled proudly at you, but also confident by your compliment.
He finally kissed you properly, sucking your bottom lip and then immediately deepening the touch by adding his tongue, messily kissing you just how you wanted. 
One of his hands slowly found its way down your body, fingers brushing your folds before inserting two digits without a warning; due to your wetness he had no trouble in doing so. Your moan got lost into his mouth, your own fingers messing his hair even more, nails scratching his nape and scalp. 
Jake’s lips traveled down to your neck while his hand continued its job on your entrance, in and out in a slow, painful pace. He kept going down with his kisses, stopping on your still clothed boobs.
“Can I remove these?” He asked, pointing to your bra and you nodded, breathing heavy as you helped him to undress you fully, missing his fingers inside you.
Jake would constantly ask permission before removing any piece of your clothes, and in particular, your bra. You once told him how much more comfortable you felt wearing a bra during sex, especially if you were riding him. At the same time, you were totally aware of his love for your whole body, so alongside that, you gave him the consentment to remove the piece whenever he felt like it. And every time he questioned if he could.
Jake straightened his back for a second just to appreciate your beauty.
He questioned how he got so lucky to have you like that, all naked just for him to touch, gorgeous body just for him to glorify, your face, in a perfect blend of love and lust, just for him to see. Everything. Just for him. How?
“Only you can have me like this, Jakey,” you spoke softly with an equally gentle smile, like you were reading his mind tripping over insecurities again – although you felt a bit shy under his intense gaze. “You’re the only one I love.”
He sighed. A lovesick type of sigh, the one he let out whenever he realized – once more – how much in love he was with you, the one that always came with a cute smile, the one with a devoted gaze.
Then he leaned down again, giving you a quick kiss before continuing his work, focusing his mouth now on your tits, gently swirling his tongue on your hardened nipples while sucking on it. You gasped, hands rushing to tangle your fingers on his silky hair. He gave the proper attention to both of your boobs, making you even more wet, before moving down to kiss the interior of your thighs. 
“Please, Jaeyun– I wanna feel you inside of me, please.” You pleaded, already feeling impatient.
You heard him let out a soft laugh before trailing his lips all over your body, up to your lips, whispering with a sweet, yet alluring tone. “Your wish is my command, princess,” and he aligned his cock on your entrance, slowly entering you. He gave you little kisses all over your face, capturing all your expressions of pleasure and then said “I love you.”
Your lips curved with the tender, sudden confession, moaning when you felt him finally moving, your hooded eyes looking for Jake’s to whisper “I love you too, my love..”
And you also loved how Jake filled you up so good, so deep inside you, thrusting his hips in the pace he already knew both of you enjoyed.
Normally Jake would be willing to let you take control all over him, especially if you were using him to reach your own high – riding his face or his cock, coming all over his body, making a total mess. He loved that. But from time to time you would silently ask for him to take over, laying down on the bed and letting him be the one in charge of using your body. And he had to admit that he also loved that. 
To watch your eyes rolling whenever he hit your g-spot, the little frown of delight mixed with your mouth open, chanting his name in between moans in such an endearing, alluring way without even realizing it, fully surrendered. He could cum just by watching it.
The room quickly was filled with groans and moans from you two, Jake intertwined your fingers together and lifted both your hands above your head, holding himself steady as he kept thrusting harder and faster into you, wet sounds mixing with your names being whispered by each other’s mouth, lost in pure ecstasy. 
“Choke me,” you whined at some point, wanting more and more of that addicting feeling. “P-Please, choke me, Jakey,” you managed to move one of your hands still interlocked with his, positioning it on your neck, letting it go for him to do what you asked for, his movements slowing down a bit as he was trying to fully understand your request. 
Jake’s eyes gleamed with a bit of shock and excitement. Wasn’t your first time asking him to choke you, but everytime he got somewhat surprised. He placed his hands around your neck, gently squeezing the spot he learned from you that is the right one. Jake was always very cautious with the act, observing your reactions and never taking more than a few seconds, doing just enough for you to feel the pleasure you wanted to. And you so did. 
Your mouth fell open with a loud, choked moan when your air got stuck in your throat. The view of him with his white dress shirt holding you like that made your mind go dizzy for a brief moment. You gasped for air as soon as Jake released the tightness on your neck, feeling him kissing you right after but you couldn’t kiss him back, your orgasm near the edge already making you too messy and out of your mind, so he went down to bite and kiss your neck.
Jake’s hot breath on your skin, he sounding so gorgeous, lascivious groaning your name, together with all the overwhelmness your body was going through and his dick deep into your pussy the way you loved, was enough for your second orgasm to hit.
Without a proper warning you screamed Jake’s name while your walls clenched around his cock, he himself moaning with your tight cunt making it difficult to move. Your hand squeezed his when you hit your climax, and it took just a few more pumps until you felt Jake’s warm liquid filling you up along a groan. You hissed.
Jake fell on your body, panting hard and burying his face on your neck. You chuckled when your mind got back to yourself, remembering what all of that was about. “Does this answer your questions?” You asked, out of breath. 
“What?” Jake whispered, lips tickling your skin when he did so.
“That I’m not leaving you anytime soon.”
Jake hummed against your skin, now understanding what you meant. You felt him smiling right after. 
“I think I need a few more reminders, just in case.”
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So on a random morning, while staying loyal to your job of making Jake fully aware of your deep need for him and how profoundly he affected you, you watched him getting ready for work with you still on the bed. 
You two always woke up almost together, while Jake took a shower and brushed his teeth, you made breakfast and prepared his lunchbox together with a cute note – it wasn’t an everyday routine since some days Jake had lunch with you at home or on a little date.
After eating, you would go watch and help him with his clothes whenever he needed it. You loved to watch him like he was your favorite show, especially because your day started a bit later than that so that was kind of the quality time you two shared every morning. 
But today the show was a bit… different.
Jake looked like a lost puppy, shirtless in front of his wardrobe trying to figure out something to wear, barely noticing you hungrily eyeing him up and down not caring much about his whole dilemma. 
He turned to you to ask. “This one or this one? What do you prefer?” 
You quickly eyed the options and pointed to the red and white striped long sleeve – one of your favorites, so it was your honest opinion, actually.
However you had other ideas running through your mind, so you went closer to him, hugging his warm body from behind before he wore the shirt. “But you look better without any of them, y’know that?” You glanced at him from the mirror in front of you both, your hands caressing his toned chest faking an innocence. Jake’s eyes caught yours showing your clearly second intentions, shifting to a darkened atmosphere right away. 
“You think so? Should I go shirtless then?” He asked playfully with a smirk. You giggled mischievously, turning him over so you two could face each other, your hands on his waist while he cupped your face.
“You’d definitely turn some heads,” you teased, leaning in closer, voice turning into a low whisper. “But I’d rather keep the view all to myself,” and with that your lips met his to share a passionate kiss, your small giggles and smiles getting lost in between.
Jake’s body pushed you to start walking backwards while his hands moved your head to the side to deepen the touch. You stumbled your legs on the bed, falling over it without breaking the contact, Jake hovering you as you felt his bulge hardening against your thigh. 
He broke the kiss to pick his phone from the nightstand, tilting his head. “We have about fifteen minutes,” and glanced back at you with a smirk, diving into you once again.
“More than enough,” you murmured, shivering with the feeling of the tip of his nose and lips brushing against your neck, giving little kisses on there, your panties dampening just by that. 
You sighed, letting out a quietly whimper as Jake’s lips gently sucked a sensitive part of your skin. Your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer for you both to kiss. You tried to undress him quickly, removing his sweatpants and boxers in one go with his help after he removed your shorts and panties, leaving you with only your oversized shirt.
You felt his hands traveling down your body until his fingers touched your folds just to collect your arousal to make you nice and ready for him. Jake jerked himself off for a bit, spreading his precum all over his shaft to finally replace his fingers.
He moaned in your ear when he finally felt your tightness around his cock, the action alone making you quiver. You loved to hear Jake’s pretty noises, especially this close. But you wanted more – and time was running out. 
“Faster,” you whispered while softly dragging your fingernails all over his back, annoyed by his slow pace not increasing gradually as you expected and wanted. 
However, Jake was in the mood of teasing you for a bit – as if you both had plenty of time – by keeping his movements the same, slow and steady, taking his sweet time to watch your frustrated frown. “Jaeyun…” He giggled against your cheek, kissing you afterwards and then he started to go faster, just how you ordered. 
Although he was a teaser sometimes, Jake's favorite thing to do was to comply with your wishes; anything you asked him to do he would be willingly doing it. And during intimate moments, he would take his sweet time to observe and understand every reaction of your body whenever he was touching you, at this point of the relationship already knowing how to read you and how to make you feel even better. 
So when you started to moan his name in between whimpers, one of his hands slid under your shirt to give your boobs a gentle massage, rubbing your nipples, making you squirm underneath him. 
“You’re so pretty,” Jake said tenderly, staring at your face contorted in lust. So gorgeous and just for him. 
His fingers let go of your boobs to rush down to rub your clit when you whispered “I’m close, please, don’t– Don’t stop,” with a ragged breath, pulling him closer in a messy, hot kiss. The well-known wave swept through your whole body as your warm liquid coated Jake’s dick. “Fuck,” you rolled your eyes, enjoying your high before coming back to reality to watch Jake focused on now achieving his own climax. “You always fuck me so good, pretty boy,” you whispered while panting and caressing his sweaty hair, a bit overstimulated by his thrusts into you. He groaned and you felt his dick throbbing inside you. “Always fill me up so good, isn’t that right?” 
“Fuck,” he whimpered, lips parted while his whole body trembled on top of you, his release inside of you making you moan due your sensitiveness. 
“I guess we– We went too intense for a quickie, sweetheart,” he said in between heavy breaths. You laughed, kissing the top of his head. 
“You’ll need another shower.”
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You persisted in carrying on your plan whenever possible, loving Jake in all the ways you could, showing him how much of an amazing, attractive, irresistible and captivating man he truly was. 
Jake was thrilled with all the affection you were showing, not that you never did it before, but he noticed you being more obvious and confident about sexual talks; whenever you got turned on by him doing minimal things, you demonstrated through your words and actions. He knew how hard for you it was sometimes to be so open about your own desires, and he was genuinely happy that you were trying for him, but also unconsciously getting better for yourself. 
You were confident, so was Jake. You both created a bound so unique and powerful that could be scary sometimes, but worth it every second.
Jake appreciated every moment you voiced out your needs, now that you knew that he wanted to know any thoughts of your fantasies about him. 
On the other side, Jake maintained his whipped self as evident as ever.
Your smell all over the house, your gentle touches whenever you both decided to cook together, your laugh sounding far better than any tracks on the car radio, your cute pout when he had to go to work instead of being on the bed with you for a few more minutes, your presence being so notable when you both went out – and Jake feeling lucky to be the one holding your hands and making you giggle – and, of course, your lips always tasting like heaven, like home. 
Jake made sure that you felt needed, loved and cared as well.
And on that day he made one important decision, which was making him a bit more nervous than the normal as he drove you both to a little date on a distant beach you two discovered during one of your many car travels together. 
Paramore’s “Still into you” was playing on the radio and you were singing with a bright smile as if it was for him. He was so in love with you, soft eyes watching you whenever he got the chance, smile never leaving his lips. 
Jake was glad you couldn’t notice his heart beating fast – not only because of how gorgeous under the sunlight you looked, all happy, but due to his nervous self as well.
When he stopped the car, far enough to avoid any possibility of people seeing you two, he had one thing on his mind before putting his whole plan on work, breaking down the romantic atmosphere.
“I know it’s totally out of the blue, but I need to–”
“Eat me out?” You huffed a laugh, holding his hand. “Yeah, I’ve noticed you’re a bit nervous today, my love. Is it because of your presentation next week?” You asked, watching him pause his moves to give you a flabbergasted expression, making you laugh. “I know how to read you, pretty boy,” and with that you gave him a cute wink. 
Jake bit his bottom lip before stepping out of the car. You watched with a smirk as he walked around to open the door for you, just to pull you into a kiss and drag you eagerly to the backseat. 
You giggled in between the kiss as Jake leaned you fully on the seat, hovering you the way he could due the limited space. Both of you were glad that you chose to wear a skirt that day, so things should be a bit easier.
You felt Jake’s hand sneaking into your clothing piece to slowly rub your clit over your panties the same moment he trailed down his lips to nibble every sweet spot of your neck, the one near your ear making you whimper, your hands scratching his scalp gently.
“You have no idea of how much I’ve been craving you. All day thinking about your pussy on my mouth,” his low tone made you shiver.
“I’m all yours, my love,” you replied in a similar tone and heard him letting out a groan.
Jake took your answer as a green sign, his impatient fingers moving your panties to the side so he could start to pump it into you. He observed your soft features turning into lustful ones and  couldn’t hold back his urge to capture your lower lip with his teeth before smirking and going down on you.
“Legs on my shoulder, princess,” Jake said as he positioned himself between your thighs, mouth watering as if he was going for his favorite meal. With your help he moved your panties down just enough for him to dive into you with passion.
Your hands found comfort on his hair, as always. Not only did you loved to grab it, feeling the silky strands running through your fingers, but Jake enjoyed it as well, groaning with pleasure whenever you pulled a bit harder or guided him to ride on his face.
Jake’s mouth made its work on your cunt by sucking, licking and flicking his tongue every once and a while, his nose rubbing on your clit whenever he shook his head purposely to create that friction, hearing your pretty moans filling up the car. Your back arched, your hips bucked forward and your thighs tried to close every time Jake gave more attention to your sensitive clit. His name being the only thing voiced out by you in between moans. 
The sensation of Jake’s hair tickling your thighs worked as a stimulus as well, your body always responded to any of his touches with such intensity, as if you were made just for him. And you strongly believed you were.
“I’ve got you, sugar,” Jake said muffed when he noticed your walls clenching more around his tongue, you threw your head back, breath growing heavier and heavier, your mind doing a full spin because of how good Jake was working on you. “Cum for me, yeah? All over my mouth, babe.” 
And as if he gave you permission to have your orgasm, you did, your juices being drunk by Jake fervently while you screamed his name. You were panting when he leaned over to share your own taste with you. Jake helped you to get yourself together, giving you water and a tender kiss on your forehead. 
After you both recovered – mainly you –, you got out of the car to watch the sunset. As you normally did, you sat on the car hood with his help, and since the car was facing the horizon you both could watch it together in a hug, with Jake between your legs.
“Y’know what I was thinking of?” Jake murmured against your cheek. 
“What?” You asked back, gently playing with his hair. The sound of the waves crashing on the rocks soothing the atmosphere. 
“When I once said I could watch a hundred sunsets with you, you’d still be the prettiest view,” he looked at you with tender, lovingling eyes. 
“Oh,” your lips curved in a sincere smile because of the reminiscence. “The first time we said I love you.”
“Yeah, I still agree with the last part,” he whispered, planting a small peck on your lips as you giggled. “But–” Jake sighed nervously, hesitant on his words. 
Your heart started to beat faster since you noticed a shift in the mood. “Yes, my love?”
“I don’t think a hundred sunsets will be enough, Y/N,” he said seriously and you noticed how his cheeks got colored by a light shade of pink. You blinked, confused. You watched Jake get a little box from his pockets, opening and showing you two rings, one of them having a moon and the other a sun. “Would you let me be with you for a bit more?”
Your lips parted in shock. Your eyes began to burn and before you could even stop it, tears ran down your face as you hugged him tightly, laughing in pure joy, repeatedly saying “yes”. 
Jake once promised you a hundred sunsets – and a bit more. 
Now you promised him your heart. A thousand times, if necessary. 
407 notes · View notes
swordsandholly · 6 months ago
Text
Across the Way
Chapter 4: New and Old Problems Alike
Retired!Ghoap x Fem!Fat!Reader
Ao3 | Previous - Next | Masterlist
MDNI | cw: fainting, some medical inaccuracies
Word Count: 5.8k
Summary: You go to Scotland with high hopes for your future. After all, you have the bakery you always dreamed of and a whole new life to live. Plus, the men who own the butcher’s shop across the street seem nice.
You haven’t texted them, even three days later. That little sticky note haunts the surface of your kitchen counter. It taunts you - tells you that you should text them and at least give them your number. That you’re being a terrible neighbor. They might need you too, after all. Even though you can’t figure out why they might for the life of you. On the other hand, you can’t help but feel wary about it. Men don’t take an interest in you - people in general rarely take interest. It’s hard not to feel suspicious, as pure as you’re sure their intentions probably are.
More so than any of that, you don’t know what to say. If it had been day one you could have just put your name, but now you feel like you need to explain. Or at least be funny or something. Tossing and turning on your designated rest day about what the hell you should do.
You’re overthinking it. You know that. You can’t stop, either.
They just seem so cool - so put together. So unlike you. You want to impress them. You don’t want to ruin the first possibility of friends in this new life you’re building for yourself.
Eventually you work up the courage to send off an initial text to each of them. Just to give them your name to save if they so choose - plus an extra thank you to Simon for giving you their numbers in the first place. Something simple and borderline cold. Too cold, maybe? Maybe you sound irritated. You hope not. You just want them to like you. Friends in new places are hard and to have someone around you who gets how it feels to need accommodations would just feel so… lovely. Your phone may or may not go flying onto your bed while you bury your face in your hands out of sheer nervousness.
You don’t expect it to chime about a minute later. Right as you’re staring to calm down, of course. It sends your heart violently pounding all over again.
J >> Bonnie lass!
J >> So glad u texted!!
>> Sorry it took so long lol
Oh, you could just slap yourself. You don’t have anything better than that? At all? Christ.
J >> Nah Nah
J >> No worries
J >> Actually I was wondering if u would mind if I came by tomorrow
J >> Just to chat
J >> need an excuse to get out of the house
“How the hell does he type that fast?” You scoff to yourself.
>> Yeah, come by anytime.
>> totally
>> yea sounds cool
>> rad, man
A message from Simon pops up mid your internal battle with how to respond, replying with a simple thumbs up. Very in character, you think. He knows how to be nonchalant. What would Simon say? Something casual, maybe a little formal.
>> If you like. You’re always welcome.
Okay maybe that was too much like Simon. You sigh heavily m before adding,
>> I’m trying out a new blueberry loaf
>> If you want to test for me :)
Better. That’s a little better. With another heavy sigh you decide to drop your phone into your nightstand for the rest of the day. Your heart really cannot handle this much emotional pressure.
~~~
You sort of end up just forgetting about the texts. With your phone out of sight and out of mind upstairs in your apartment it almost catches you off guard when Johnny comes striding through the door just before close. He’s dressed more casually than the last couple of times you saw him - having broken out the summer shorts and a graphic tee for some band you don’t recognize. It suits him, though.
“Hey, bon.” He grins.
“Hey.” You smile back, finishing with putting up your stocking baskets before dusting off your hands and turning around. “Simon closing up?”
“Aye.”
You hum. “Come on back, I’ll get you a slice of that loaf I mentioned.”
Johnny follows you quietly. Uncharacteristically quietly. That’s okay - you don’t have a problem with hanging out in silence. It doesn’t feel tense, surprisingly enough. He leaves Riley out front again. Should you get her a dog bed? Maybe if he comes by consistently. That would be nice. Maybe that’s wishful thinking.
“It’s sort of a pound cake but fluffier. I might make an icing for it but I don’t know if that would be too sweet…” You trail off, focusing on plating up the piece. You’re not sure what compels you to try and make it pretty for him. Probably something you could blame on your grandmother. She did have an obsession with presentation.
Johnny hums loudly after taking a bite, talking around the mouthful. “Y’should totally make an icing.” He swallows roughly. “Si would go crazy fer this.”
“Oh?” You smile. “I’ll send some home with you.”
There’s a lapse of silence while Johnny chews on his slice of bread and you pack up some in a paper bag for him to take home. The only sounds in the room comprised of your cutting and folding and the hum of the cooling oven.
“You’re being weirdly quiet.” You blurt, immediately covering your mouth with your hand. “I, uh, I mean that isn’t a bad thing! I don’t mind… I just, uh, was… sorry, never mind…”
“Well I did come wit’ a bit of an ulterior motive…” Johnny admits, glancing off to the side shyly. It’s a show, you think. Johnny doesn’t seem the type of man to have felt shy a day in his life.
You tilt your head. “Oh?”
He dusts off his hands and grins. “Let us take ye out! In celebration of yer first full month.”
Has it been a month already? “Oh - no, no you don’t have to-“
“C’mon! It’s a big accomplishment.” His smile is so bright that you almost believe his idea that you’ve done something great.
“…alright.” You give a tentative smile. It’s hard to believe they like you enough to want to hang out casually in the evening. Hard to imagine anyone liking you that much but you’re not one to look a gift horse in the mouth.
“There’s a pub down the street - the one on the corner. Want tae meet us there around six?” Johnny gives you that lovely smile. How could you ever say no to a smile like that?
“Okay.”
You spend far too long changing in and out of clothes and fussing with your hair. Up-do’s and buns and braids. A tank top then a sweater then a t-shirt. There’s no reason to feel this stressed over it. It’s not a date or anything. Besides, it doesn’t seem to make a difference. Either way you look like a frumpy dumpling. Eventually you land on jeans and one of your designated ‘going out tops.’ At least it’s a good excuse to wear something other than work clothes or loungewear.
Excitement and anxiety thrum under your skin like electricity as you make your way down the street. You feel painfully nauseous - stopping once or twice just to make sure you aren’t about to throw up for real.
The pub is surprisingly quiet when you enter. Obviously somewhere only real locals hang out - there’s no theme or really any decor in general. Just a bar, some booths and a couple pool tables. You scan the floor a few times, not seeing either Johnny or Simon (not that they would be hard to miss). Eventually you just grab a soda from the bar and slide into one of the booths closer to the back. A quiet spot facing the door where you can easily watch for them.
As time ticks on you begin to grow increasingly nervous. Did you get the time wrong? No, no you triple checked. You even wrote it down in your planner. Your leg begins to bounce furiously, heart nearly beating out of your chest. Did they decide to ditch? You wouldn’t really blame them. They’re way out of your league when it comes to friends. Maybe Johnny had an emergency? Should you call Simon? If he had an emergency it would make sense that they would forget to notice you. What if something really bad happened? What if-
The front door opens and Simon’s wide frame strides through, holding the door for Johnny and Riley to come in behind him. You let out a quiet sigh of relief, willing your leg to stop bouncing with a pinch to your thigh. Why are you always so damn dramatic?
Johnny lights up with an ear to ear grin when he spots you, bee-lining for the booth while Simon casually walks up to the bar. It’s almost comedic, the way he dwarfs the counter. Johnny leans on the side of the booth, waiting for Simon, you think.
“Glad ye could come out.” He looks you over, eyes flicking from your plain top to the very practical, not at all stylish up do that you landed on for the evening.
You do your best not to squirm under his gaze. “Me too…”
Simon comes back with two beers in hand and slides them onto the table. He scoots into the inner booth to give Johnny the outer edge. Riley happily sits beside his leg and practically grins at you in a near mirror image of Johnny’s. You’d never do it while she’s on the job, of course, but part of you wants to give her a pat on the head and coo at her for being so polite.
Johnny gives you an apologetic smile. “Sorry we were a bit late-”
“Johnny redid his hair about five times.” Simon butts in, not reacting at all to Johnny’s sputtering protest. He glances at your half-drunk soda. “Want me t’ grab you a beer?”
“Oh, no, I’ll just stick to coke.”
They blink at you. Simon cocks his head slightly. “You sure?”
You chew your lip. “Uh, alcohol tends to aggravate my symptoms is all...”
“Then why’d ye agree to drinks? We coulda gone somewhere else.” Johnny frowns.
You shrug. “I don’t mind. I… maybe this is over sharing but I’d rather go out and be kind of normal than just… not ever. Y’know?”
His expression softens. For having such icy blue eyes they are so, so warm. “I get it.”
“How’d you two meet anyway?” You blurt, taking a left turn to get the conversation off of you. It’s the first question that comes to mind. Maybe it’s rude - maybe you’re prying too much already.
“Military.” Simon grunts. “SAS.”
“Si retired wit’ me after I was discharged.” Johnny points to his scar the same way he did when you first met. “Russians scrambled my egg a bit.”
“Couldn’t do the time apart…” Simon murmurs, eyes locked on Johnny’s face. It’s vulnerable. More than he’s used to - you can see it in the way he tenses after saying it.
Something passes between them that a deep, wounded part of you desperately wishes to understand.
You can’t help but start giggling to yourself. They both give you an incredulous look. “Sorry, sorry - it’s just, that’s like… totally a romance book premise. It’s sweet. Really.”
“Och, aye. Wouldn’t know it t’ look at him but Si’s a real romantic.” Johnny bats his eyes at the other man, who just rolls his in response. The corner of his scarred mouth quirks up subtly.
“SAS…” You repeat, staring at your drink. “That’s like Navy Seal shit, right?”
“We worked with them a few times, yes.” Simon nods. There’s an air of ‘do not ask anything more specific’ in his voice.
“Huh.” You take that for what it is and sit back, squinting at them. “You don’t look it, honestly.”
Johnny laughs. “Tha’s just cause ye havennae seen Simon with his gear on. The Ghost.” He wiggles his fingers along as he makes a stupid, spooky sound effect. “I domesticated him.”
Simon scoffs but doesn’t deny it, just takes a quiet sip of his beer.
“Riley’s a vet, too.” Johnny pats her head. “Got too skittish around loud noises but she transitioned into a service dog nicely.”
“Now she’s just spoiled.” Simon rolls his eyes in faux annoyance. You get the strong feeling that he’s the one doing the spoiling.
You find yourself relaxing as the night goes on. Slouching in your seat rather than sitting ramrod straight and nervously twiddling your thumbs. They never press you to drink, never insist that you’ll be fine with just one. They take your statement as fact and it isn’t brought up again. That shouldn’t be as significant as it is, now that you think about it.
Johnny’s words begin to slur a little bit on his fourth, no maybe fifth, beer. You aren’t sure. It’s very cute, the little blush that forms across his cheeks. Simon loosens up, too. He slings an arm around the back of the booth and Johnny readily tucks himself into the open spot. You find yourself wondering about their military career again. You can’t picture either of them committing violence - especially Simon. Sure, he’s big and gruff but he looks at Johnny so, so softly.
Simon is the one to call it a night - though you have a feeling its because you nodded off a couple times. Not out of boredom, you try really, really hard to pay attention to Johnny rambling about the chemistry of different explosives. He makes it interesting, somehow. Really it’s just that you’ve been awake for… holy shit almost twenty hours!
“D’you need a ride?” Simon asks as you exit the pub, hands firmly shoved into his pockets.
“No, I’ll be fine.” You don’t know how to interpret the look he’s giving you. It’s intense, but not annoyed or displeased. He has such a weird knack for unreadable but distinct expressions. You wonder if you’ll ever get close enough to get good at deciphering them.
You jump when Johnny takes both your hands in, kissing the backs of them with a sloppy, drunk smile. “Thank ye fer comin’ out. “
Somehow your face feels hotter than a damn oven. You tuck your hands to your chest, kicking shyly at the sidewalk. “Th-thanks for the invite. We, uh, we could do it again sometime?”
You glance up hopefully, praying that you didn’t misread the situation. You’ve done that before - thought people liked you more than they did. Johnny just grins wider somehow and nods excitedly.
You watch them walk off in the other direction, hand in hand. Johnny giggles about something loudly and you can see Simon’s shoulders shake with a far more silent laugh. All the way until they disappear down the street.
The sheer amount that the image hurts your heart makes you feel evil.
~~~
The pub changed something. What, you don’t know. Either way, you fall into an easy pattern with Johnny and Simon over the next couple weeks. Exchanges of food, leftovers or morsels about to turn, little visits back and forth between your shops. Johnny continues to stop by after close, just hanging around with you while Simon closes up shop.
You can’t deny how much you look forward to hearing that door chime followed by a too-loud greeting from Johnny. How your heart flips in your chest when those bright blue eyes peek around the corner into the back room or light up while trying a new recipes you’ve been testing. You’re still a bit awkward - unsure how to react when he throws an arm around your shoulders or listens oh so intently while you talk about nothing important.
Things can’t ever be all sunshine and rainbows, though. Not for you. A new problem has arisen as summer truly sets in - the comfortable spring breezes giving way to nothing but bright, unfiltered sun. One you didn’t expect to impact you this much living this far north.
Heat.
It’s hard to breathe in the back room while you’re baking. Hard to keep your water and salt intake high enough to compensate for how fast you lose them. You might as well get a permanent saline drip attached to you at this point. You definitely didn’t google if that was physically possible. Your budget for liquid IVs and other supplements nearly doubles. Standing over the massive oven in the back room has your head swimming a few times. You end up resting longer on your weekends, unable to keep up like you could in cooler weather.
It’s okay, you tell yourself, the summer here isn’t like back home. It will pass quicker. Plus, you at least have methods of dealing with it now other than crossing your fingers and praying.
“Bonnie!” Johnny suddenly appears in your doorway - that charming smile splitting his face from ear to ear. “Ye made it up Main Street yet?”
“No?” You tilt your head and try to ignore the way your vision spots momentarily at the motion. “Why?”
“Ye dinnae hear about the summer festival?” He leans on your counter. You shake your head. “It’s a yearly thing. Not that big a deal but they have some fun games an’ it’s nice tae see everyone out an’ about. Si an’ I are about tae head down. Come wit’?”
You hesitate. The exhaustion in your body tugs at your spine. Your limbs feel heavy. This morning really got to you - out of towners who must have come for the festival flooded your shop the moment it opened on top of your Saturday regulars. Not that you’re complaining, really. It’s easily your best day so far. You want to go with them, though, despite the ache in your back and the sting in your joints. It sounds so fun and it’s never a bad idea to take part in your new community’s festivities.
“Yeah. That sounds nice.” You smile. You can tough it out for an hour, then come back home. Yeah, just an hour. You’ll be fine.
You hadn’t noticed Simon leaned up at the entrance to your shop. Your eyes lock on his arms. This is the first time you’ve actually seen him in short sleeves. You can’t help but stare at his half-sleeve tattoo - all skulls and bombs and other military motifs. Faded and sun worn. Yeah, if you’d seen that sooner you definitely would have picked up on the whole military thing. You bite your lip to keep from snickering about it.
You can hear the music drifting from the speakers down the street. A few kids run by with balloons and cheap carnival prizes. It almost reminds you of the Spring Fling back home, just missing the extreme American flag theming across every booth and vendor front. Now that you’re looking around, you can actually see several booths that have been sponsored by various businesses in the area. Even the post office has a snow cone stand. The deeper you get into the event, the more flamboyant the decor becomes. Multicolored streamers and pennet flags connect stands, creating an almost canopy effect.
Simon stops rather abruptly at a booth, waiting behind a few teenagers tossing rings onto bottles. You stop with Johnny about two feet away. What’s he thinking? Simon doesn’t seem like the type who would be too entertained by basic carnival games. Even so, he steps forward and passes over a couple bills to the vendor as soon as the teenagers leave.
“Si’s really good at these. Watch.” Johnny grins beside you.
“Aren’t they rigged?” You raise an eyebrow.
Johnny doesn’t answer, eyes locked on his husband as he lines up one of the rings. You have to lean slightly to see around the breadth of the man - the multicolor rings almost cartoonishly small in his hands. Cute. Your eyes get impossibly wide with each toss, every single one landing comfortably on the bottle necks as if it’s the easiest thing in the world. As if this isn’t one of the most commonly rigged carnival games.
“Holy shit…” You mutter, still staring.
“Aye, tha’s a SAS sniper for ye.” Johnny laughs. “Glad tae see it still comes in handy.”
Simon huffs out a quiet laugh at that. Almost more of a sigh if it weren’t for the shaking of his shoulders. You love it - their little dynamic. The bond between them that’s so strong it’s almost visible.
“‘ere.” Simon turns to you suddenly, holding out a cheap little carnival prize. You can’t even begin to decipher what it’s supposed to be - some sort of furry puff ball with big, embroidered anime eyes and two felt antennae sticking up out of it’s purple head… body… thing…
Your face heats. “F-, uh, me?”
He shrugs. “Suits you. Riley will just chew it up if we take it home.”
“Aye. She’s so good with everythin’ but cheap plushies.” Johnny snickers.
You glance down at the dog in question - her dark eyes glued to the toy in Simon’s hand. Her tail thumps against the ground where she sists dutifully, but you can see the desire to snatch the thing away in her twitchy ears and pleading eyes. You snort, taking the stupid thing and tucking it under your arm with the prayer that they don’t notice the heat now spreading from your cheeks to your ears.
“Thanks…” you murmur, already mentally deciding where to add it to the mess of stuffies covering your bed already.
Somehow you end up walking between them down the street - Simon on your left and Johnny on your right with Riley in tow. You stop at a few other games here and there. All pretty basic. Johnny absolutely kills at the dunk booth.
Simon tires his hardest to help you with your terrible aim, “Just visualize it. Y’have t’ account for the arc.”
You get to the point of sticking your tongue out in concentration. Even so you only manage to knock down a couple of the wooden ducks at the ‘Dunk-A-Duck’ stand. You do, however, win one of those rock candy sticks at the guessing booth. You just hand it off to Johnny. It’s probably not best to load up on sugar in your current state.
Johnny excitedly points to different buildings giving you a rundown of the history of his hometown as you walk. Simon seems to barely be listening. He’s probably heard this a thousand times. Prattling on about the old town square, the church bell that a bunch of teenagers spray painted one time (Johnny was not involved, how could you accuse him of that?)
You find yourself focusing on your feet - keeping each step even and fast enough to remain on pace with them. One, two, one, two, one, two. The air begins to thicken. Muggy and heavy on your skin. Your breaths become shallow and fast. You can’t catch it, the air seeming to get stuck in your throat rather than reaching your lungs. Spots begin to dance across your vision. You stumble over nothing.
Not now! Come on! You’ve been doing so well!
Riley presses against your leg acting as a counter weight. Your body moves on instinct to grab whatever you can - hands wrapping around something strong and covered with cloth. An arm solid as rebar. Hopefully it’s someone you know. All you can see are colorless shapes.
“Gonna pass out - don’t freak!” You gasp before your legs give out.
It’s not that you go entirely out - it’s rare that you fully black out. It’s more like being stuck. Limp and fuzzy and confused. Almost like sleep paralysis. There’s voices and people moving around you. Someone has picked you up, you think, based on the swaying motion and the passing shapes around you. Maybe that’s just vertigo. A door bell chimes.
You finally begin to really come to when something icy is pressed to your forehead. It couldn’t have been more than a handful of seconds that you were gone, but it takes much longer for the world around you to come back into focus.
“I’m sorry…” You murmur, eyes stinging. Even after all these years it’s so damn embarrassing. You blink, the distinct mural that decorates the ceiling of the post office slowly coming into view. Johnny said a big time traveling artist painted it back in the nineties.
“Ye alright?” Johnny murmurs, crouched down beside you. Riley sniffs at your hand, seeming satisfied when you finally move it on your own.
You nod slowly. “Overheated…”
“Give her this.” Someone says. An event medic, you think. The boys must have flagged them down. Fingers press to your pulse point, a light shines in your eyes and you follow it. A quick check of vitals. Johnny shoves a water bottle in your hand as soon as the medic decides you’re fine to move - the contents distinctly murky from some sort of electrolyte pack that’s been shaken into it.
“Up y’get. Slowly does it.” Simon helps you sit up with a hand on your back. It’s so gentle. You don’t miss how he cages in your body the way only someone intimately familiar with caretaking might. Fully ready to catch you if you go limp again.
You sip slow, eyes glued to the ground. You feel so fucking stupid. Can’t even walk down a street without creating some sort of scene. They’re never going to want to hang out with you again, are they? You can’t go out drinking, can’t walk around a festival for longer than a couple hours. You distracted Riley. What if something happened to Johnny while you were having your spell? She might not have alerted correctly because of you. She might have gotten confused and then he could have gotten hurt. He might have-
“Ye really should drink tha’ instead of glarin’ at it.” Johnny pulls you from your thoughts. He’s now sat with his legs crossed beside you. Riley’s head rests in his lap. She seems calm. Content now that the emergency is over and happily lying on a cool floor.
You hum, chugging the last bit of it quickly. “I’m sorry…”
“Don’t be.” Simon says curtly. “Does this ‘appen often?”
You shrug. “Not as much anymore… usually my medication keeps me stable.”
“Do ye need a doctor?” Johnny tilts his head slightly. There’s no judgment in his tone - in either of their tones. Just calm concern. It probably shouldn’t make you want to cry as much as it does.
You shake your head. “I’ve got liquid IV at home. Just need to sleep it off.”
Hopefully. In reality, a pain flare up is inevitable now. You just won’t know how bad until you’re fully in it.
“Let’s get ye home.” Johnny says, knees popping as he stands.
“I-I’m fine!” You insist, mentally preparing to get yourself up off the floor. “I can get home on my own - I don’t want to ruin your time.”
Johnny levels his gaze onto you, so serious it almost looks angry. It doesn’t match his face. “We’re not leavin’ ye tae get home alone like this.”
You’re caught off guard when an arm slides under your back and another under knees - lifting you like you weigh half of what you do in reality. Like you’re a paperweight instead of a boulder. You blink up at Simon, far too surprised to be embarrassed. At least at first. You splutter out a poor attempt at convincing him to put you down. Excuse and reason after reason and excuse. They roll off him like water off a ducks back. Your face burns as he steps out of the post office with you neatly tucked against his chest - Johnny and Riley in tow.
If you allow yourself to be honest, to give into that weaker part of you (or, at least, the part you consider to be weak) you could possibly admit that this feels nice. Being cared for feels nice. Having your body up against someone else feels nice. It’s been a long time since anyone touched you outside of a polite handshake or accidental bump. You sink into it despite yourself - relaxing against Simon’s chest. They were right, you wouldn’t have made it back. Your head is too fuzzy and there’s that telltale pain in your shoulders radiating up to your neck that signifies an oncoming Bed Day.
It doesn’t take long with Simon’s lengthy strides to get back to your building. You probably wouldn’t have been able to keep up to that running. Well, you can’t really run much at all so you definitely wouldn’t. A stupid, muddled train of thought that melts into the hazy bog of your current mental state. Even Johnny trails a few feet behind. Neither of them speak, marching in determined silence. You attempt to subtly check their faces for any anger. You’d understand if they were angry. Most people would get angry. You interrupted their day out with your useless drama. All you get is a wide, bright grin from Johnny when your eyes eventually meet his.
Simon puts you down with all the care in the world. As if you’re made of fine china. His hand stays on your upper back - planted firmly between your shoulder blades and ready to catch you if need be. Your vision swims a bit, your joints feel like jelly but you manage to dig your keys out of your pocket and unlock the door.
“Here.” Johnny plops the puff ball back into your hands just as you turn to say goodbye. To say thank you - to apologize profusely.
Your brows raise. You completely forgot about it while swimming around in a sea of embarrassment - he must have picked it up for you. You hug it to your chest with a quiet, “Thanks.”
You shift your weight side to side, psyching yourself up for the crawl up the stairs. Probably literally. You don’t think you could stay upright if you tried to walk them like a regular day, or even with an aid. Like a regular or semi-regular person. Fuck.
Johnny follows your eyes up at the staircase. He must sense some hesitation in you. “Do ye need help up?”
You bite your lip, staring at the ground. Standing in one place seems alright, but the thought of climbing is so daunting, even with the cane you have stationed at the bottom of the steps for that exact purpose. It’s embarrassing. You’re young, you should be able to walk up some damn stairs. It isn’t even that many. It’s barely a full flight. Just one story of stairs for fuck’s sake.
“Hey.” Simon touches your cheek, the action snapping your eyes to his in surprise. “It’s okay. C’mere.”
He picks you up again in the same fashion with barely a grunt, taking his time up the steps so as not to jostle you. How many times has he done this with Johnny? you wonder. That’s the only explanation for how good he is at keeping your equilibrium so even. You wonder if he practiced - if he took caretaking classes. He probably did. Does he keep up at the gym just so he can take care of his husband? Simon might be quiet and a little formal, but he exudes dedication.
“Sorry it’s messy…” You murmur when they reach the top of the steps. Glancing behind you, you see Riley sitting patiently at the bottom. Johnny must have told her to stay. “Haven’t gotten to fully unpack…”
You’ve been spending too much time in bed on the weekends. Fucking lazy.
Johnny just laughs. “Ye shoulda seen the first place Simon an’ I had.”
“Wasn’t that bad.” Simon argues, carefully setting you down on the couch. His hands hold your waist to steady you. They’re so warm… It feels wrong to be disappointed when he lets go.
“We hadnae figured out a system yet.” Johnny huffs, hands on his hips. “We ended up hirin’ a specialized maid service the dishes got so backed up.”
You scoff, laying back against the couch with that stupid carnival prize still in your arms. Like it’s the only thing grounding you to reality. The tears that have been stinging your eyes this entire time continue to threaten to spill - a myriad of blinks and careful breaths the only thing keeping them back.
Johnny sits beside you slowly. You can’t meet his eyes. “Do… do ye want tae tell us what it is? Ye donnae have tae - it’s up tae ye. Just if somethin’ happens again…”
“We’d like to be prepared.” Simon jumps in where Johnny trails off.
You chew your lip, still staring up at the ceiling. It splits and that coppery taste coats your tongue for a moment. “I, uh, it’s called POTS. There’s different types but basically my body can’t regulate blood flow and pressure right…” You shrug. “Like I said my medication usually keeps me mostly okay.”
It’s the pain that really gets to you usually, but you don’t need to start dumping on them about that. There’s no reason to spill your guts about things they can’t fix.
“Thanks fer tellin’ us.” Johnny smiles. You stiffen slightly when he reaches out to tuck some hair behind your ear. You tilt your head, still resting on the back of the couch, to meet his eye. “Get some rest, yeah? We’ll lock the knob behind us. Call if ye need anythin’.”
“Okay.” You nod, keeping your eyes down and picking at your nails. “Sorry… about all this… I didn’t - I don’t… I’m sorry.”
“Donnae apologize.” He says softly as he stands. “Never apologize. We’re your friends, aye? Friends help friends. Tha’s all there is to it.”
Simon gives you a discerning nod behind him, expression both soft and deeply serious.
Friends? They consider you real life proper friends? Really? You can’t help but beam up at him. “Yeah.”
A/N: I’ve re-read this chapter so many times that it’s total mush in my brain which tells me it’s time to be done with it.
Bonus: I made a Pinterest board for this fic
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mattslolita · 6 months ago
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one of the girls - c. sturniolo
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in which ... you're one of chris sturniolo's girls for the night of the versus tour. ( chris x black!fem!reader )
warnings ; smut, fingering, cowgirl, creampie, unprotected piv ( wrap it freak hoes )
"𝒊 𝒋𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒂 𝒃𝒆 𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒈𝒊𝒓𝒍𝒔 𝒕𝒐𝒏𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕."
˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰
every moment since you had bought the tickets, you'd been waiting for this day for months — the let's trip versus tour. you've been a fan of the sturniolo triplets since late 2022, and since you weren't able to make the first tour, here was your second chance in 2023 to make the versus tour.
you and your best friend alize had been trying to pick out the perfect outfit for you both to wear, having switched things up many times in between since you wanted it to be a perfect day.
even though as a nick girl she'd be wearing purple, you and alize wanted to match with each other to the t — her outfit contrasted yours only because she wore a cardigan instead of a puffer like you had. the amount of pictures you both took on the uber ride to the venue was insanity, as you both were twinning so hard.
when the day came, you felt excitement course throughout your body as you realized you'd soon be in close vicinity with chris sturniolo — you were a die hard avid for 'black girls 4 chris', something you and alize would joke about all the time. you liked to joke and say you were the number one chris girl ever, whilst alize said that she'd hands down be nick's favorite lesbian.
you knew sometimes your fangirling could get out of hand at times, as you found multiple occasions where chris was your wet dream or you often daydreamed about what it would be like to be with him. his voice, his hair, his personality, that smile, he had lived in your head rent free. you also knew chris probably had no issue at all when it came to hookups, but that wasn't something you cared about — even if it was for one night, one time, you wanted to be in their shoes. you wanted to know what it was like to be one of chris's girls.
the line at the venue had filled quickly, as you and alize had met several of your online friends you made from the fandom — the other girls were sweet and kind, and as you looked at the other chris girls in the crowd you briefly felt a wave of sadness as you thought that any of them could be the lucky one.
your worry dissipated though as you felt alize's excitement radiating off of her body, causing you to giggle. "girl, how are you feeling?"
"how you gon ask me that, y/n?" alize said in disbelief, causing you to giggle as she put a hand on her chest, "we literally finna be breathing the same air as nick sturniolo. hoe, i'm unwell."
some people shot alize dirty looks at her seemingly rude behavior, but both of you paid no mind to them — anyone who was friends with her knew that that's the way she joked around with people, the way she spoke in general.
"i'm so excited to see chris," you tell her dreamily, running a hand through your curly lace front you got done yesterday, "i hope i get picked as his teammate."
"laura's racist if she don't pick us to be one of they partners," alize whispered to you, causing you both to laugh as the line moved forward.
"remember, we get to get pictures and do small talk before the show starts, so make sure we're headed for that line!" you explain to alize who playfully rolls her eyes and swats your shoulder.
"girl chill out, i remember what our tickets said!" alize giggled, "i sure as hell remember how much we paid for them things, ain't no way i'm not speaking to them!"
"and then the merch," you whined, pouting your lips, "that shit was going into my funds for college next semester!"
"then you might wanna start looking for a j-o-b!" alize tells you knowingly, causing you to groan, "i told you, i can speak to my manager for you!"
"girl that man is a pervert, i'm not working there!" you say firmly, "how do you even deal with him?"
"why do you think i act like a dude every time i have a shift?" alize tells you knowingly, "you'll never catch me wearing stuff like this around him."
you felt yourself become excited again as you looped your arm with alize's looking at you guys' matching outfits. "i still can't believe how much we matched with each other!"
"what if we can get a group picture with me, you, nick, and chris?" alize wonders, "we'd all look fine as shit."
"i know chris probably looking fine as hell today," you whispered to alize, causing her to giggle at you.
"girl you always think he look fine," alize says with an eyeroll, causing you to nudge her shoulder playfully.
you could feel your nerves heighten as you got a view of the area where the triplets could be seen doing group photos with the fans. a nerve of both excitement and arousal coursed through your veins as your eyes landed on chris — stray hairs peaked from underneath his black backwards cap, his usual friendly smile painted across his features. you unknowingly bit your lip as you scanned his outfit, seeing as he was wearing an orange tasmanian devil shirt with black jeans white air forces — casual, yet he still turned you on so much.
you took a deep breath as the line drew closer, and you had an even better view of the triplets. they all looked so good, and you felt both excited and nervous at the fact that it would soon be you and alize's turn.
just as you had turned to whisper something alize, chris's eyes had somehow wondered over to you unbeknownst to you — his eyes wandered around the entirety of your outfit, drinking in your brown skin and your thick thighs which were somewhat hidden by your skirt. he almost smirked as he realized you had been dressed in all orange, letting him know you were a chris girl. his girl.
when you looked up from laughing at what alize had said, you could feel eyes on you — your breath almost caught in your throat when you realized he was checking you out. you bite your lip nervously as he swiped his thumb over his nose before giving you a small smirk, directing his attention back towards the fans who were next in line.
you could've melted right then and there, now having to clench your thighs at this. there's no way chris sturniolo was checking you out just now? your mind had to be playing tricks on you.
then again, you didn't doubt chris had thought some fans were were cute. he definitely wouldn't have had any problem hooking up with the older fans if they let him, you definitely would've wanted to hookup with him.
your nerves skyrocket even more when you realize you and alize are up next.
the security ushers you towards nick first, who offers you a warm smile and outstretched arms. "hi, love!"
"hi nick!" you say, hugging him quickly before you make your way towards matt. "hi matt!"
matt gives you a smile, hugging you back as you go to chris next.
his eyes are already on you, having watched your interaction with his brothers — a small smirk is on his face as he pulls you in for a hug, his hands dangerously close to your ass as they reside on your waist. "hi, gorgeous."
it comes out a sort of whisper, which causes your cheeks to warm as you pull away from him with a shy smile. "hi, chris."
you turn to see alize already positioned in between nick and matt, so you took that as the initiative to put yourself in between chris and matt as well. nick puts his arms around alize with a smile, whilst both matt and chris put their arms around you.
well, matt's arm stays around your neck, while chris slips his around your waist, giving it a gentle squeeze causing you to clench your thighs together.
the picture snaps twice, and you turn to wave a quick goodbye to both nick and matt. chris smirks, sending a subtle smack to your ass as you give him a shy wave and you leave with alize.
you still couldn't believe what just happened — you debated on telling alize, but she was so caught up in rambling about the fact that she just hugged and smelled nick so you just giggled with her and let her talk.
the show soon started, and unfortunately you did not get picked to be chris's teammate — but you and alize squealed of excitement when laura asked if she wanted to be nick's teammate. of course that girl was not finna pass that up.
you were front and center of the stage, watching as the show took place in front of you — you knew your eyes weren't playing tricks on you when you saw the glances chris kept sneaking at you. you couldn't help but let your doe eyes wander and stay on his, even when you were recording alize and nick. you had almost missed the perfect swish alize made with the basketball, causing you to cheer loudly for your best friend.
when chris had walked near your side of where the stage was, he gave you a subtle wink to which you smiled and blinked your doe eyes up at him. you were hoping other girls couldn't see it, as they would be quick to make stupid assumptions, because it's not like anything was happening.
the show soon ended, leaving you both nervous and excited once again since you and alize had the small talk with them now. unfortunately you and alize ended up being one of the last people in line, since she accidentally left her phone somewhere on the stage and spent time looking for it.
the small talk line up was in birth order, which you were extremely grateful for — alize had went before you, and now you were up next as you make your way towards nick again.
"hi again!" nick says to you with a beam, holding his arms out for another hug.
"hi, how are you?" you ask him excitedly, as you place one of your posters on the small table.
"i'm feeling good, it was cool to meet everyone," nick tells you, unrolling your poster of all three of them. you hold a pen out to him, which he gratefully accepts, "how are you tonight?"
"i'm doing good!" you tell him excitedly, "i can't believe chris won again, what's going on with you, stink?"
both of you laugh, and he shakes his head. "trust girl, i'm gonna win we just need to give it some time."
"period!" you say, holding your phone up, snapping a few pictures with him, "thank you so much nick, i hope you have a blessed rest of the tour!"
"thank you so much for coming!" nick smiles as you both hug one more time, before you give him a wave as you're off to matt next.
matt smiles at you as you approach him, and you smile back as you set your things on his table. "hi again!"
"hi, matt!" you say calmly, "may i hug you?"
"absolutely, c'mere," he says politely, outstretching his arms towards you, and you slip into his arms.
"how are you tonight?" you ask him, as he signs one of your posters.
"i'm doing good, i can't believe how many people came," matt tells you, and you nod understandingly.
"i'm glad to know you're doing good! i hope you're having fun, too," you tell him sweetly, as he smiles and pulls you in for another hug.
"do you wanna take some pictures?" he asks you kindly, and you nod enthusiastically, handing him your phone as he snaps a couple of .5 photos of you both.
"have a blessed rest of your tour!" you tell matt as you collect your things, beginning to walk away as he smiles and waves at you.
as you're approaching chris, he already has that same smirk plastered on his face as he watches you walk up to him slowly — when you reach him and set your things down on the table, he's instantly bringing you in for a hug.
his hands skim over your skirt momentarily, causing your breath to hitch at the close contact. "hi again, chris."
"hey ma," chris says, swiping his thumb over his bottom lip as he eyes you up and down shamelessly, "did you miss me?"
"i'm a chris girl, of course i missed you," you purred, a sudden bold confidence striking you as you blink your doe eyes at him.
he licks his lips at you and hurriedly jots something down onto one of your posters, and you find yourself unable to look away from him as you take in the way his jawline is so sharp and how the light hits him. he looks so hot, and something inside you wishes he would take you right then and there.
"alright, wrap it up!" one of the security guards yells towards you, causing you to sigh as chris gave you an apologetic smile.
"it was nice meeting you, chris," you say shyly, going to grab your posters.
"you'll see me later, gorgeous," chris whispers in your ear, sending a shiver down your spine as he pulls away, giving you a wink, "see you soon."
you give him one last smile before you hurriedly begin walking to find where alize is at. as you're nearing the hallway, a buzz in your pocket causes you to take your phone out, seeing a message from alize.
alize🙈🫦
girl tell me why i left my phone AGAIN
i went to go look for it that's why you don't see me anywhere
you curse under your breath at this, silently shaking your head as you begin walking towards the exit — suddenly a hand goes out to grab your arm and carefully yank you towards the door.
"what the fu-"
"told you you'd see me again, ma," chris's voice smirks, and you could feel yourself gasp as you turn to see him, your hand still in his.
"where are we going?" you ask, looking up at him.
"giving you a private tour," he smirks, licking his lips as he looks you up and down once more before pulling you towards the door.
it's nighttime already as the both of you exit out of the door — you feel yourself giggle slightly as the wind whips your hair whilst he hurriedly makes his way towards their tour bus with you.
he looks around to make sure nobody saw or followed, and he quickly opens the tour bus doors. chris signals for you to get inside first, and he couldn't help but watch the way your ass jiggled when you walked up the steps.
as soon as you both were inside, you barely have a chance to look around at the tour bus before chris hurriedly whirls you around to face him, his lips meeting yours in a hungry kiss.
your arms find their way wrapped around his neck as he draws you closer to him, his arms slithering down to give your waist a gentle squeeze before he lands a smack to your ass.
you gasp into the kiss, allowing his tongue access inside your mouth — you moan when his hands roam all over your body, until he hooks his arms under your legs.
"jump f'me," he mumbles into the kiss.
you do as you're told, jumping and hooking your legs around his waist. chris walks backwards towards the sofa couch, sitting down on it as he continues to kiss you.
you move your legs on either side of his waist straddling him, as you whimper into the kiss — you detach your lips from his and bite down on his bottom lip, pulling away with a pop.
"fuck, you're so hot, baby," chris breathes, causing you to whimper again as you grind down on his hard on.
"chris i want you to do whatever you want with me," you breathe, resting your forehead on his as you catch your breath, "i'm yours."
"is that so, sweetheart?" chris grins up at you, running his hands up and down your sides which causes a shiver to run down your spine, "you gonna be a good girl f'me?"
"yes, always," you tell him, grinding down on him again eliciting a low groan from him.
chris reattaches your lips, tilting his head in order to dominate the kiss — he pulls away and leaves a trail of kisses on your neck, sucking on a particularly sweet spot causing a moan to escape your lips.
you shrug your puffer jacket off of your shoulders, as chris helps to take off your halter top as well. your tits spill out of your bra causing chris to groan as he takes one in his mouth, sucking and nipping at it whilst massaging and kneading the other.
"m, fuck chris," you whine, throwing your head back as you grind down on his erection, feeling your panties dampen.
"take this off f'me baby," chris instructs you, taking his hands off of you so that you could stand up.
you hurriedly pull down your skirt, revealing the orange lace panties you wore underneath — chris's eyes darkened with lust, immediately pulling you back onto his lap. "fuck, you had this all planned out, didn't you?"
"no, but i was hoping it worked," you giggled, biting down on his earlobe as his hand went down to rub across your slick.
"look at you, so wet f'me," chris breathed against your skin, rubbing his hand along your wetness teasingly, "take these off baby."
you quickly stood up and rid yourself of the panties, throwing them to the ongoing pile of clothes. chris pulled you back onto his lap, inserting one of his long, slender fingers into your hole, causing a lewd moan to escape your lips.
"f-fuck chris, feels so good," you moan, throwing your head back as his fingers work in and out of you.
"taking my fingers so well, sweetheart," chris rasps, leaving kisses along your neck as his fingers curl inside you.
"please, faster..." you whine out, his mouth leaving a deep purple spot on your neck as he pulls away with a pop.
he speeds his pace as he finger fucks you, loving the way you sound as he abuses your walls with his fingers — he added another, increasing the pleasure and you felt your orgasm approaching quickly.
"so close, chris," you moan, grinding onto his fingers, "m' gonna cum."
"cum on my fingers baby," chris grunts in your ear.
you quickly obliged, feeling your orgasm wash over you as a moan of chris's name escapes your lips and your juices coat his fingers, your legs shaking. you stand up as he licks his fingers clean, grinning up at you as he pulls his pants and boxers down revealing his throbbing cock — your eyes widened, now knowing that he was in fact huge as fuck.
"what's the matter baby?" he grins cockily, grabbing your waist again as you hover over him.
"you're s-so big, i don't-"
a loud moan escapes your lips as chris sinks you onto his cock, and you immediately feel him stretching your walls — tears feel your waterline from how big he is, your mouth fixed into a permanent 'o' shape as you adjust to his size.
"c'mon ma, i know you can take me," chris assures you, gripping your waist tightly as a groan leaves his mouth, "be a good girl, remember?"
you nodded, just as chris suddenly thrusts his hips up hitting your g spot which elicits a moan from you as you grip his legs while your head is thrown back — he grabs your chin as forces you to look at him.
"look at me while you ride me, ma," chris instructs you sternly.
your hands still gripping his legs, you begin bouncing up and down on his cock as it abuses your cervix repeatedly — the slapping of skin as well as chris's low moans and your high pitches ones vibrated throughout the tour bus, and you were pretty sure anyone close enough could hear what was happening.
"fuck this pussy feels so good," chris grunts, watching as your tits bounce in his face, his eyes staring into yours darkly, "who's pussy is this?"
"yours chris, all yours," you moan, throwing your head back as you continue bouncing, "m'close again..."
"hold it baby, i'm almost there," chris pants, his hips thrusting upward to meet your pace, "fuck..."
suddenly chris grabs your phone and holds it up, taking a live photo of you bouncing on his cock whilst he leaves another kiss to your neck.
with a few more thrusts, you feel chris's dick twitch inside you indicating how close he is — he finally releases inside you, painting your walls white. your second orgasm washes over you, as your legs shake whilst your juices release all over chris's cock.
chris helps you off of him, and you stand up immediately grabbing your clothes scattered around — chris lands a smack to your ass as you bend over to pick your shirt up. "chris!"
he just laughs as he pulls his pants up, then hands you your skirt as well. you smile up at him shyly as you slip it on — he rubs his thumb across your lip and plants another quick kiss to it as he holds your phone up again.
"sorry i couldn't take it earlier," he says, pulling your body against his.
"it's okay, taking it here feels more intimate anyway," you giggle.
you hold the side of chris's face as he snaps the camera once, then he places a kiss to your cheek as he snaps another one.
"can i use the bathroom real quick?" you ask him shyly, and he nods, showing you where it was.
once inside you hurriedly pee, letting out a sigh as you finish and wash your hands. you look in the mirror at yourself, a small smile tugging at the corner of your lips as you look back at the girl who just got fucked by chris sturniolo.
walking back outside, you look to chris who has your phone in his hand, as he holds it out to you, which makes you smile and walk towards him, reaching for it.
he puts his hand on your waist as he holds your phone above your head, looking down at you with a smirk.
"boy, if you don't hand me my phone back!" you tell him, trying to reach for it which resulted in him holding it higher.
"few more kisses first, ma," chris grins, puckering his lips out making you giggle.
you press a kiss to his lips and pull away, but he quickly dips down to peck your lips a few more times. he hands you your phone back finally, and you smile as you begin walking towards the tour bus's exit.
"your posters!" chris says before you can leave, hurriedly handing them to you.
"thank you," you said, looking up at him, "i enjoyed tonight."
"anything for one of my girls," chris winks with a grin, planting one last kiss to your lips.
you exit the tour bus, looking around for any sign of life before you make your way around the building — you look around, your body trembling from the cold air before a honk of a horn grabs your attention and you gasp, jumping slightly.
"where the fuck were you, y/n?" alize's voice says worriedly, rolling down the window to the uber, "bitch i was looking for you!"
"shit girl, i'm so sorry," you apologize, climbing into the seat of the uber next to her, "i have so much to tell you."
"hoe, you better tell me where you disappeared to," alize whispers to you half angrily, the other curious.
before you could get a word out of your mouth, a buzz from your phone grabs your attention.
unknown
*one attachment*
y/n
chris ??? are those my panties ??? 😭
unknown
didn't fuck anybody else baby, yeah they're yours
need something to remember you by since today was our only la show
y/n
is this you telling me you wanna see me again?
unknown
i'll fly you out to another show if you're down
y/n
only if my girl can come too !
unknown
i'll get you both a plane ticket
y/n
i'll see you soon then😘
unknown
good
send me some pics to keep me company while you not here😏
"bitch what?!"
( lilly's section 💌 )
this didn't come out as good as i wanted it to, but i hope y'all liked this ! love u guys so much muah💌.
@luverboychris @muwapsturniolo @prettiest-poision @mrssturnioloo @mattsturniolosleftnut @sturnprime @thenickgirl @guccifrog @nickgetsmewetter @eyeliketoeatpoosay @e1ias3 @sp3aknaur @middlepartmatt @summerssover @riasturns @sturn777 @l0akkzz @hysteria-things @pinksturniolo @chrissturniolossidehoe @chris-slut @hoesformatt @raysmayhem-72 @whosthislyssbitch @lanas-doll @chrisssluttywaist @mbbsgf @jetaimevous @sturnsxplr-25 @moonk1ss3d
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