#he’s so handsome in this I miss him all the time

[mv1simp]

That Boy Is Mine ♥️

Max Verstappen x Siren!Reader

that boy is mine, I can’t wait to try him, watch me take me time, boy is divine (that boy is mine)

As a young, beautiful and rich CEO living in Monaco, you have any man you want in the palm of your hand. But a certain handsome Dutchman has caught your eye…there’s just a small problem of his current girlfriend that’s in your way! You’ll just have to prove to Max how much better you could spoil him.

Content Includes: 18+ MDNI, smut, seductress! girlboss! Reader, naive!max, infidelity but Max’s unnamed gf is annoying anyway, size kink, Halloween costume sex lol, seriously explicit cheating don’t read if not ur thing!!!

The thing was, you wouldn’t normally ever go to such lengths for a boy. Why would you? You were a pretty girl in her 20’s living in Monaco, running your own successful public relations management firm. That’s how you’d met Max, through a PR crisis of Redbull that Christian Horner had personally called you to get sorted. Some drama with a defamation lawsuit against their poster boy, Max Verstappen, who you hadn’t paid a second of attention to despite living in Monaco. You were much more likely to get your nails done and enjoy a glass of wine than be following a race weekend.

But after you’d easily sorted the mess out, you’d been suprised to find Max himself patiently waiting in your luxurious office, wanting to thank you with a gift of tasteful French wine. It’s rare for one of your clients to take accountability for their actions instead of letting their managers sort it out for them, after all. You don’t miss the way Max’s pretty blue eyes widened as he took in your appearance, with a tight black dress with lacy sleeves that did wonders to push your tits up temptingly. He’d been expecting some old man, not a beautiful girl his age. He cleared his throat nervously, suddenly finding it hard to maintain contact with your sultry eyes as he stuttered his thank you. Cute, you think with a tilt of your head, enjoying his deep Dutch accent. He’s very different to the arrogant, pompous personality you’d expected from a champion F1 driver. And he was insanely gorgeous too, all 6 foot of thick thighs and broad shoulders. You’ve met many attractive men in Monaco and flirted your way around them, but Max catches your eye with his baby blue eyes and soft blonde locks. So you can’t help gently brushing your manicured hand against his bulging bicep, looking up at him with fluttering lashes to say it’s so sweet of him to go to all the trouble to come downtown, really, you’re happy to help him anytime!

He walks out of your office with your personal phone number for any media emergencies, of course. As well as a blushing face and a semi erection he guiltily tugs at his pants to hide, after looking down to see your plump, soft cleavage when your smaller body pressed up against his.

A quick google stalk of your client leaves you feeling very annoyed when you discover he’s not single like you’d originally hoped. You roll your eyes as you look at the B list model’s Insta he’s dating, spammed full of photos of her with Max’s wins for clout or artificial brand collabs. So tacky and undeserving of someone like Max, you muse later that evening over an espresso martini. You’re too deep in your own thoughts to pay attention to your date with a Monaco hotel chain owner that evening.

When you find a massive bouquet of roses on your desk the next day, you assume your date was being persistent despite your disinterest last night. But when you find VIP tickets to Max’s garage next race and first class flights nestled amongst the red flowers, you’re even more intrigued. You attended, out of curiosity more than anything. You’re not planning on getting involved with an already taken man - far too much drama for the CEO of a media relations company.

But you can’t deny Max knows how to give a girl princess treatment, something which you’d gotten used to providing for yourself since no man had been able too. From the relaxing, personalised flight experience, to the sleek expensive Mercedes he’d had sent to pick you up at the airport, the 5 star suite in a hotel, and to the exciting VIP lounge at his garage filled with interesting people you’d easily networked with. And when you see Max confidently dominate through the track to P1, sounding so sexy over the radio without a hint of shyness, pulling off his helmet afterwards to show off his gorgeous, messy hair as he adorably smiles at you to ask how you’d enjoyed the day, you realized this wasn’t just any man. No, Max was the one, the perfect man to provide you with whatever you asked for and take care of you when you needed him.

Not that you needed him to. After all, you were well known as one of the most successful businesswomen in your country - and you didn’t get that title without a pair of fangs to match. You’d be a true power couple - much better suited than his current subpar girlfriend, who dragged him down in every way.

You’d made up your mind. That boy was destined to be yours, no matter what.

So you began developing your relationship with Max and become frequently seen on the paddock, all under the guise of improving his media image, of course. The handsome blonde had no issues spending time with you, finding you to share his sarcastic sense of humour and in awe of your very keen analytical sense that you easily applied to the racing world as well. He liked how you were unfazed with the media circus that surrounded him, too, not blinking twice when trashy gossip magazines posted suggestive captions about you and Max. And you always seemed to know just how to carefully phrase your words assertively when asked insensitive questions by grid reporters, who were curious about Max’s new PR advisor. It was very different to what he was used to with his girlfriend, who frequently fed into gossip column content with Insta posts and livestreams - which constantly annoyed Max.

Soon you’re a regular amongst his group of friends. You meet his girlfriend, finally, at a dinner one night. She’s taken her hold on Max for granted, barely interested in you as she snaps selfies with the more famous people at the table. You can’t resist the foxy smile on your glossed lips - it’s almost too easy, given how unaware she seems of how discontent Max is with the relationship. You sit next to him all night, laughing and sipping your favourite wine that he now knows by heart and orders for you, the conversation genuine and a bit too flirty for “just friends”. And when your lace minidress rides up, and your soft thighs and crossed ankles brush against his muscular legs, he doesn’t move away, letting you press against him for warmth when he rests his large palm around your thigh. Your panties are soaked through by the time you get home from how often you had to clench your legs, imaging his massive hands drifting just a bit higher…

It’s easy to blame the touchiness on the alcohol the next morning and strictly maintain your professional distance as you hand him paperwork to sign in your office. You smirk when you catch his eyes in a passing mirror, glued to your ass through another tight lace dress as you walk away in Louboutin stilettos. Max was very much an ass man - that is, when he wasn’t being a tits man. You certainly had no qualms showing off your thick curves to him, knowing you had a lot more to offer than his girlfriend. It was impossible to miss the way his blue eyes would drift towards your tempting body whenever he thought no one was looking.

So next weekend, you invite him onto your boat for a day trip. It’s much smaller than his personal multi level yacht, but perfect for what you had planned. It’s a nice touch to have all your coupled up friends with you, who disappear off to various rooms in the boat as the sun gets hotter and they get drunker. You hand Max another strong G&T you’ve mixed yourself, now just alone on the top deck with him. He takes it easily, telling you you’d make a deadly bartender. You hmm, resting a knee on the couch he sits on. It’s a manoeuvre that brings your bouncing tits, barely covered in a white skimpy bikini, right into his eyeline. Max takes one look at your nipples pebbling through the fabric, gulps cutely, and promptly drains the glass in his hand.

You try to contain the smile on your glossed lips as he tries and fails to look away from your tits in his face, stammering out responses to idle chit chat you’re making. It’s adorable how his confident, dominating personality switches so fast off the track with you. At one point you say you’re sorry that his girlfriend couldn’t make it (you aren’t - you’d planned the getaway on a day you knew she had a modelling gig booked, of course, since you’re the one who’d pulled strings to set up the photoshoot). Relaxed with all the G&Ts, Max mentions that actually, his girlfriend had been very persistent in trying to stop him coming today.

Oh? You say with faux innocence, tilting your head and widening your doe eyes with worry. Why? She doesn’t like me? Max rushes to soothe your worries, saying no, no, it was more that - well, I think she’s a bit jealous…you’re very beautiful, after all. I think I might just need to spend more time with her from now on. You laugh at his cute blush, telling him Of course, but she had nothing to worry about, after all she was the model and not you!

You know how to play the game, knew that despite his model girlfriend at his side, you had him practically drooling in your tiny white bikini, contrasting beautifully against your tan skin. But he had to be the one to cross the line first, and think it was all his idea. Especially if his bitchy girlfriend was starting to catch onto your plans and demanding Max stay with her. So you walk away, making sure to sway your hips so he can enjoy the view of your ass as you lay on your tummy to sweetly ask your cute lifeguard if he’d mind putting sunscreen on your back?

Your lifeguard jumps at the chance, having already been checking you out all day. He’s taking the bottle and raking his eyes over your form hungrily - but Max interrupts even sooner than you’d predicted. His love language being physical touch works in your favour. You hide your pleased smile as a deep Dutch voice heatedly says that he can do it, and you turn to see Max glaring at the lifeguard with all the intensity of a lion. Are you sure you don’t mind, Max? You say sweetly, blinking your thick lashes up at him from your compromising position, your head right at the level of his hips. You hope he’s thinking the same naughty thoughts as you when his blue gaze darkens. That it would be so easy to slide his thick fingers past your pouting lips and hold them open as he messily fucks your all too willing mouth. You bite your bottom lip at the filthy idea.

You see him swallow, Adam’s apple bobbing in that huge muscled neck of his. No, it’s okay! That lifeguard…well, I don’t want him putting his hands on you. God, you couldn’t wait to lick hickeys all up and down his broad shoulders before wrapping your thighs around them as he ate you out. But you’re getting ahead of yourself, coming back to the present as you lie down to let Max touch up your sunscreen. His large palms are tentative at first, trying to remain respectful within the boundaries of friendship. But when you’re softly sighing, moaning that it feels so good, Maxie, work has made my back way to tense, could you use one of those massage techniques your physio taught you? it’s impossible for him to not go a little further. Your tiny bikini easily lets him explore your body, his strong hands gripping your plush hips and giving him a naughty mental picture of what you’d look like if he took you from the back. You’re glad your sunglasses are extra dark so you can peek at his trunks, enjoying the rapidly hardening large bulge there, responding to all the cute little moans and gasps you’re letting out as you tremble under his touch.

You decide to tease him a bit more, reaching behind your neck to untie your string bikini, shyly saying you didn’t want to get tan lines…he didn’t mind, right? You can totally go ask the lifeguard to help!

Max’s mouth goes dry at the sight of your bare back as he dazedly shakes his head, huskily saying he was happy to help, you’re his friend after all. All the blood rushed straight from his brain to his cock to make his decision as he feels the lush swell of your tits from the side when they generously slip out. You celebrate your victory internally when he shyly asks if he could take off your bikini bottoms so you didn’t get tan lines there, too?

You hesitate, coquettishly blinking and asking him if his girlfriend would be mad? Max pauses with your reminder, his large hands spread over your juicy asscheeks as he resists the urge to squeeze them. Your plan falls right into place as you cheekily suggest that surely it would be okay if he closed his eyes, just for a second, you really didn’t want tan lines there after all-

That was all Max needed to hear before he eagerly nodded, looking the picture of an overexcited puppy. This time you can’t resist your smirk as your slowly untie your bottoms, jiggling your ass as you slide them down so he catches a glimpse of the tempting flesh before he remembers to close his eyes. His large, calloused palms run down your plump ass, unable to resist squeezing roughly and making you moan sexily. You part your legs invitingly, and when those thick fingers of his brush against your pussy you know he can feel how wet you are for him. So dripping wet, that one of his fingers easily slides against your warm pussy lips. Max, you gasp breathily, your entrance instinctively clenching around the tip of his thick finger. What are you- Oh! Desire rushes straight to his groin as he gets a feel of how tight your sweet cunny would feel squeezing down on something else thick of his and he can’t help but sink his finger all the way in. It takes him longer than it should to come to his senses and move his hand away, stammering out apologies that he hadn’t meant to touch you there, his hand just slipped, could you forgive him?

To his relief, you giggle at his flushed face, turning around to meet his embarrassed gaze. Don’t worry about it, accidents happen! you say playfully, as if you hadn’t planned this, tying your bikini back up slowly. As he watches you strut away confidently in your little heeled sandals, he can’t resist tasting the wetness you’d left all over his fingers. He almost cums in his trunks from how sweet you taste, and hastily returns to his room. You smirk when you press an ear to your bedroom wall, hearing the shower running in Max’s bathroom right next door. Sadly for you, you can’t hear anything over the sound of the shower, leaving you pouting and pussy aching from the memory of Max’s hands on you.

But just on the other side, a certain blonde Dutchman is giving into his growing taboo desires. It’s not the first time he’s jerked off to you - no, with all the frequent teasing glimpses of your plush cleavage or your ass in tight dresses, he’s regularly mentally drooling over you. He knows it’s wrong, and in the beginning he did feel guilty…but now only the thought of your sexy little body that can get him hard like this. Tipping his head back and letting the cool water flow down his abs, Max slowly jerks off his impressive erection as he fantasies about you shaking and cutely moaning underneath him. Your lush tits spilling out from the sides, your wide hips that would be the perfect thing for him to hold tightly as he fucked you in doggystyle, his favourite. And now he knew what your soft tanned skin felt like, how sweet and wet your cunny was for him….well, it’s enough to make him addicted. He’s cumming within seconds, biting his lips and imagining how good it would feel to bury his aching cock inside your cunny instead of his finger next time.

He still blushes cutely when he sees you next, at a friend’s party, but you’re as nonchalant as ever, greeting him with a sweet kiss on his cheek. He watches you laugh at something one of his guy friends are saying and can’t stop the jealousy swirling in his chest, even when his girlfriend tugs on his arm to get him his attention all night.

Of course, you’re playing the long game. It didn’t matter how many men you flirted with - there was only one who you truly wanted. So for one of the exclusive Halloween parties in Monaco, you discreetly organise one of the big fashion houses you represent to send Max’s girlfriend a haute couture costume. She accepts it, spamming her Insta story with pics of it, just like you’d expected. You’re certain she would show up to the event with a reluctant Max in tow.

And on that night of the Halloween party, you smile as you spot a bored looking Max across the living room of the mansion the party is hosted at. His gorgeous blue eyes widen as he spots you…dressed in the same costume as his girlfriend. But you’d had some customised alterations made, looking ethereal in your white angel costume, tits pushed up with a corset and soft tummy and hips on display in your low waisted miniskirt. Max is far from the only guy who stared at you hungrily as you entered - including your date, some Russian model you’d met at a PR event, dressed just like Max in a tight fitting shirt and a Ghostface mask that hid his identity when on.

Someone might just call your choice of couple’s costume a random coincidence, but you didn’t make mistakes like that. Your date had two jobs tonight - one which he’d already done successfully, as you see Max’s icy blue gaze glaring at the hand around your waist. You whisper in your date’s ear, parting ways for now, because he had another mission to go complete that you’d already asked him to do for you as a favour. Namely, keeping Max’s goldigging girlfriend occupied tonight. And since your date happened to inherit his father’s multimillion manufacturing business, you were sure Max’s girlfriend would be throughly enraptured by him.

You laugh and mingle with friends throughout the night, catching Max’s intense gaze on you a few times but pretending to ignore it. He’s finally had enough of seeing you flirt with other guys when you end up on the dancefloor. You shiver as you feel his strong, muscled body behind you, shielding you from any guy who tries to get close to you. That’s fine with you, because the only one you wanted to grind back against was Max after all. So you toss your hair, getting lost in the music and tipsily giggling, enjoying the low rumble in Max’s chest as your fat ass teases his hardening bulge. His large palms settle possessively over your hips, leaning down to smell your sweet vanilla perfume. He lets you drag him into a quiet, dark corner, giggling and pressing your soft body against his as you whisper he looked so hot tonight, his biceps looked amazing, had he been working out more?

And then your doe eyes, prettily outlined in glittery eyeshadow and eyeliner, look up from his muscular chest to meet his piercing blue eyes as he pulls his mask off. You gasp, widening your eyes in supposed shock as you blush and stammer that you’re so sorry Max, you’d thought he was your date, he’s dressed the same after all…

He’s disappointed, of course, missing the touch of your manicured fingers running up and down his abs. He ends up agreeing to help you find your date again after you look at him pleadingly, although the idea of letting another guy put his hands on you makes him want to unleash Mad Max. But when you two finally find your date, behind a closed bedroom door upstairs, you see he’s been kept very good company by none other than Max’s girlfriend.

Your hands fly to your mouth in pretend shock at the scene of your date with his balls deep inside the gold digging girlfriend, her artificial sounding moans radiating around the room. Your date had exceeded your expectations and kept her very well occupied, it seemed. Max is disgusted with the sight, snarling in anger and moving to block your view of your date cheating on you. He’s so sweet, really, being so protective of you when you’d executed the whole plan to perfection. You hear his girlfriend exclaim in shock, trying to plead that it wasn’t what it looked like…but you’d given the Dutchman the final excuse to call it off. Don’t ever fucking come near me or her again, he growls, his voice radiating confidence and authority in a way which makes you squeal internally.

To your delight, Max insists on taking you home, worried about how you’d feel after finding your date cheating on you…with his backstabbing ex girlfriend, he mutters darkly. He’s fuming at her betrayal, but as you lead him into your cozy apartment you’re already planning your next scheme. When he asks you gently if you’re sure you’re ok, is there anything he could do to help, he’s so sorry that his ex got involved with your personal life like this you sweetly nod and tell him you just wanted to take your mind off it all.

He’s eager to help you, nodding enthusiastically when you ask if he’d help plan your costume for your next Halloween event the following night? Your date would no longer be helping you, after all. Of course, schat, anything you want he says earnestly, pretty blue eyes looking at you with adoration as you pout. Handing him a glass of whiskey to sip on while you guide him to sit on the end of your bed, you sashay into your walk in closet. You make sure to leave the door half open, so Max gets a full view of the red lingerie you’re wearing underneath your costume. You take your time getting ready, bending over to pull on your outfit and shaking your hips enticingly, making sure to give Max a naughty show. And if the angel costume had been sexy, the schoolgirl outfit you put on next is positively scandalous. You shyly walk out in heels and a tiny pleated skirt, skimpy white top tied around your breasts to push them out even more as you twirl for him. What do you think? you ask anxiously when Max just stares without saying anything. It looks bad, doesn’t it-

He hastily denies your words, stumbling out that you looked gorgeous, you always did, you didn’t have anything to worry about.

When you giggle happily and announce that you had a few more to show him, he licks his lips in anticipation and drains more of the whiskey from his glass. You give him another slow striptease through your closet door, this time taking off your bra so he gets a flash of your hard nipples. You see him widen his legs to accomodate the raging erection hanging in between his thick thighs and have to stop yourself drooling at the delicious sight. But Max is the one controlling himself next when you emerge in a cat costume, all black latex booty shorts and tight corset, paired with kitten ears and a tail.

His jaw drops open at the tempting sight, and when you ask him if he thinks it’s cute enough to make your date regret cheating on you he clenches his jaw and growls that the pathetic bastard didn’t deserve the privilege of seeing you all dressed up like this.

You try and fail to hide your coy smile at Max’s jealous words, and then find yourself pulled forward in between his legs as he murmurs that there were plenty of other ways to get back at your date. Oh? You say breathlessly, sinking onto your plush ass to sit in between his spread thighs, resting your cheek against his leg. Like what, Maxie?

He groans at the temptation in front of him, of your glossed pouting lips right next to where he needed you the most. You’re not behaving like a good kitty, he jokes, but his voice is rough as desire swirls in his eyes. You’re teasing me far too much while thinking about some guy nowhere near my level.

You grin like a Cheshire and slowly get on all fours, swaying your ass in the air and nuzzling your face right up against his bulging erection. Am I still a bad girl now? you whisper, flicking your tongue out to lick his zipper sluttily. Shall I make it up to you? Max groans above you, thick neck flexing as he tangles a large palm into your hair. Schatje, he says breathlessly, as you slowly unzip his jeans, squealing in delight as his fat cock emerges to slap against your cheeks. So big, Maxie you croon, going cross eyed as you place kitten licks all along his engorged cockhead. What did I say about teasing me? Max groans above you, applying delicious pressure to the back of your head as he pushes your lips down onto his shaft. Mmfh! Your moans are muffled as he loses control, fucking your mouth without abandon. Pleased moans fill the air as you drool over his length, letting him throat fuck you and use you for his pleasure. Your pink lip gloss is smeared all over his cock as your eyes roll back in your head, one of your hands reaching down to play with your aching cunny as Max leaves bruises in the back of your mouth.

Weeks of sexual tension finally lead to him cumming in your throat, so far down that you swear you can fill him hit your tummy, and you obediently suck up every last drop. He’s so far from done, though. He wants you on your hands and knees, his strong hands ripping a hole into your slutty latex shorts to hungrily taste your sweet pussy again. Soon enough your bedroom is filled with obscene sounds of Max fucking his bare cock into your cunny, pounding into you from behind. It’s even hotter than his dirtiest fantasies, and he’s making you tremble and scream his name as he presses down on your neck, burying your face into the sheets and whispering filthy praise in your ear. You’re so pleased you’d thought to set up a tiny camera by your nightstand, capturing every second of your first fuck with Max so you can enjoy it later. Your pussy squeezes around his length like a vice, and it’s most euphoric feeling he’s experienced in his life. He’s cumming again within minutes, moaning how good you feel, he fucking loves your cunt, loves you and takes you over the edge with him as he gives you an open mouthed kiss.

You smile contentedly against his warm lips, letting him slide his tongue into your mouth. Your red manicured nails tangle possessively in soft blonde locks as you sigh into the passionate make out. Max was exactly where he belonged, finally - in your bed, with you in his arms.

And unlike the silly women who’d taken him for granted, you were never going to let him go.

—————————————————————————

A/N: thank you soooo much for ur patience my dear readers, I fear I was getting a bit of writers block seeing all the photos of max and Kelly in the holiday season 😭😭😭 I hope u guys enjoy this piece!! Send me lots of ur raunchy asks plz I need inspiration ♥️♥️

[trivia-yandere]

The app is so dry. We miss you on here. I think it’s time for you to make a comeback. Do you have anything small like a snippet to just feed us

dry you say?

what are you willing to do?

After managing to dodge your property manager out of rent for two months, you're left in a vulnerable position when he finally comes looking for you.

word count: 4.973

warning: smut, light yandere tendancies nothing too crazy (yet), power imbalance, dirty talking, kissing, nipple sucking/rubbing, oral sex, dry humping, fingering,

“What are you willing to do?” Is exactly what was told to you, words you should’ve expected after 2 months now. You had managed to ignore all the phone calls and emails and dodge whenever your property manager came knocking on your door expecting his rent money. 

Today, however, you couldn’t. You woke up to banging on your front door. A loud, never-ending pound against the fragile door that your heart nearly leaps out of your chest. You wouldn’t have opened the door if you didn’t hear the man yell behind it - “If you don’t open, I’m using my key to come in.”

You leaped to your feet and towards your closet to put on a robe. Your hands were jittery and you didn’t want to see the property manager now; especially at 3 A.M. Weren't there rules on “quiet time”? Could he really be here at this time, banging on your door disturbing not only you, but your neighbors, as well? And even using his key to open your door at this time of night, as well, could be a lack of privacy and safety!

Your feet slam against the cold hardwood floor as you make your way out of your room and down the long hallway. He had since stopped knocking and now, as you get closer, you hear your doorknob jittering. He was going to come in and force you out if you didn’t answer.

Your hand wraps around the door knob and you force it open yourself. You squeeze it as you come face to face with the tall, young man. You swallow as your eyes reach his dark ones, a jolt in your stomach. Even underneath the dim hallway lights, Jungkook’s - the Property Manager and the owners youngest son - lip piercing sparkles. His eyes roam your face and then glances up to inside your apartment. “You haven’t packed yet.”

You bite your lip. Jungkook made you nervous. He was handsome, a man that belonged in a magazine or strutting down a runway. His face was sculpted perfectly from the Gods above. His physique is slim yet muscular and his arm is littered with so many tattoos that each time you get a glimpse of him, you find yourself counting them. 

“Jungkook-“

“It was hard getting in contact with you. Change your number?” Jungkook tilts his head at you. He proceeds to lean against your door frame, foot pressed between the door so you don't have the chance to close it on him. You weren’t going to regardless.

“No.” you murmur, defeated. You cross your arms over your chest, wanting to avoid his intense gaze. Half because you were embarrassed about being caught in this vulnerable situation and because Jungkook was far too attractive for you not to be flustered.

“You owe 2 months worth of rent.” Jungkook says slowly, as if he was talking to a child. “Cash, money order or card? There would be a charge if you use card.” Jungkook says. “But, if you wire it directly to me, I’ll cover the cost.”

You swallow and take a deep breath. You uncross your arms and hang your head. “I…I don’t have it.”

Jungkook knows this - it’s been close to 3 months. He had to watch the cameras on your floor just to get accustomed to your routine, and even then he never had the chance to catch you. 3 A.M. wasn’t ideal for either of you, but it’s what he had to do to get your attention. He didn’t want  to put an eviction notice on your door without having the chance to formally speak with you.

“You don’t.” Jungkook says. It isn’t a question, more of a statement. He then inhales deeply. “So…you plan on squatting here?” he tilts his head, watching you closely. He takes in your features - frightened and alarmed eyes that attempt to blink awake.

Jungkook waits for your answer to come and when it doesn't, he lets out a short snort. He doesn’t move from your doorway and instead decides to remain standing there, intense eyes on yours. He doesn’t blink and you can feel the hair on your skin rise ever so slowly.

“I…should have contacted you.” you murmur after a few uncomfortable moments. “I-”

“You got anything to drink?” Jungkook interrupts, his eyes finally blinking away from you and back inside your home. “I’m thirsty.”

You blink, a few seconds pass before you nod your head gently. “I got…milk?” you murmur. “Strawberry milk. Water.”

“Strawberry milk is fine.” Jungkook says and when neither of you move, he asks. “Can I come in?”

Your nerves don’t go away as you grab the small pouch of strawberry milk from your fridge and hand it to Jungkook. He’s seated at your breakfast table, his eyes noticing how vacant your fridge was from where he sat. A few bottles of water, some yogurts, milk pouches and other miscellaneous items inside.

You lean against the counter as Jungkook opens the milk pouch and begins to drink the milk. It’s silent - eerily so - as you await for Jungkook to say anything. You begin to go through your mind to think of anything to say to excuse your lack of rental payment.

“Jungkook-”

“Lost your job?” Jungkook questions. 

Your lips form into a line when Jungkook speaks up. He sits back into your chair and spreads his legs slightly. He watches you closely.

“Your fridge is kinda…bare.” Jungkook states. “And you’re late on rent. You haven’t paid the electric bill in the same amount of time as you haven’t paid rent so.” Jungkook mentally calculates it all. “You’re behind quite a lot. I’ve covered it.”

“C-Covered it?” you shake your head. “How-”

“I’ve paid for it.” Jungkook nods. “What’s going on, Y/N? I cannot help if you don’t speak with me.”

This is what you were attempting to avoid all this time. You thought you had time to get another job and pay back what you owed - only it wasn’t that easy. You applied to far too many jobs to not get a call back. You worked through what little savings you had until it was all gone and it left you here, ducking and dodging Jungkook until he ultimately found you.

At 3 A.M.

You inhale deeply and exhale with a defeated look. “I’m broke.” you murmur, as if he didn’t already know. “I lost my job a few months back and I’ve been trying to find another.”

Jungkook is silent, dark eyes looking your way as before, unblinking.

“I should’ve told you and…” your body warms with embarrassment. There wasn’t going back to the way it was before. Obviously, Jungkook was going to start the eviction process and you were going to be living out of your car.

“You don’t have any family.” 

Jungkook’s words catch you off guard. You tilt your head a bit, blinking at the man before he adds. “No emergency contacts. I’ve looked into your records.” he says. His foot gently begins to tap against the hardwood floor. “That’s weird.” he states. “Usually, we try to get a hold of any emergency contacts if we cannot get a hold of the renter.”

Makes sense, you think. You nod slowly. “Yeah, I’m…estranged from my family.” you admit. You could have found it weird that he would check, yet if you were in his position you are sure you would’ve, as well. “So it’s just me.”

Jungkook is unblinking again and his gaze causes a sense of unease to flow through you. You bite your bottom lip, your nerves causing your index finger and thumb to rub together.

“My father,” Jungkook begins and his voice catches you off guard. It’s been a full minute without anyone speaking. “has gone through the eviction process.”

Your throat swells and you’re unable to say anything. You suppose you should’ve known this was going to happen. Afterall, the show must go on. No one lived for free - not in this day and age.

“I guess I should begin to pack.” you mumble quietly, your head hanging a bit. You don’t want to look at Jungkook now - or at all. You were exhausted. Your mothers voice rings through your head - that you going to the city was a mistake. That you’d regret going and would find yourself back where you belonged.

That was years ago. You couldn’t return now; not after you’ve gone no contact.

“What are you willing to do?”

Jungkook’s voice, once again, surprises you. Slowly, your eyes lift from the ground to his face. You stand a bit straighter, swallowing the lump in your throat. “Excuse me?” you ask softly. “I…I’m not sure what to do. I…” you exhale a bit. “...I…can sell some things and-”

“That’s what you’re willing to do?”

Jungkook’s eyes are intense, you notice. They’re on you now, staring even deeper. His face is unreadable and there’s an uneasy feeling going through you. “What do you suggest I do?”

It’s a question you didn’t want to ask as there’s hundreds of things you could do. You could do what you suggest and sell your items - but that only meant you’d be in an apartment with nothing in it and still no steady income.

You could do what Jungkook’s father wants and it was to leave and live out of your car. You could still sell your stuff and keep the money until it holds you over.

Your head was beginning to hurt just thinking about it all.

The chair scraps against the hardwood floor as Jungkook stands. It only takes two steps until he’s directly in front of you. His eyes are casted down to look at you and you suddenly feel small - not entirely in size, but in power. You finally began to notice the glint in Jungkook’s eyes, something that isn’t innocent like you initially intended.

“Y/N,” Jungkook begins, raising a hand so that it settles onto your cheek. His hands are surprisingly soft for a man of his stature. It radiates warmth onto your skin and immediately you’re frozen. “what…are you willing to do?” he repeats,  his voice dropping to a whisper. 

It’s evident now that Jungkook was asking for something else entirely. Your skin litters with goosebumps when Jungkook’s thumb begins to slowly trace the outline of your lips.

“Jungkook…”

You aren’t aware your legs are shaking until you try to take a step back just to realize you’re already as far against the counter as you can be.

“Y/N.”

Your breathing hitches as Jungkook comes closer. “I can go. Just tell me.”

You blink a few times. You were in a tough position. If you told Jungkook to go, you might as well go packing. If you told him to stay…

That meant your dignity and self–respect would be gone.

“Tell me to go, Y/N.” Jungkook repeats. You can smell his cologne - an earthy scent mixed with citrus. “And I’ll go.” His thumb stops tracing your lips. “You’ll have 12 hours to leave.”

Your heart begins to beat at a rapid pace and slowly, your eyes widen. This was an ultimatum, you think. It was either do what he obviously wants you to do or leave.

It was unfortunate, you think, that this is what your life has come to. You think about your mother and her words. “When you’re down on your luck, you’d think about my words I’m telling you now.” Don’t go, she had said. Maybe you should have listened to her instead of chasing a fantasy of the big city. 

A shaky hand reaches up to lay upon Jungkook’s. He curled an eyebrow at your actions.

“You…offer this deal to everyone that cannot pay?” you cannot help but ask, pondering if you’re another woman on his long list of those who cannot pay their rent. 

“No.” Jungkook responds and that causes an even sharper pain to your heart. So you were the only one who couldn’t afford shit here. 

Great.

“I’m not forcing you to do anything you don’t want to do.” Jungkook states. Your hand is still above his but neither of you go to move. “My father isn’t a lenient man. I have to tell him something about the rent.”

You suppose you couldn’t be upset with Jungkook, right? He was a man and here was an opportunity presenting itself. He wasn’t forcing you into anything, just a suggestion without coming out and saying it. 

You exhale softly. It could be worse, right? Jungkook was young, attractive and fit. He was interested in something you had, hungry eyes roaming the bit of exposed skin you couldn’t fully shield behind a robe. 

“This place…” Jungkook begins. “...isn’t updated. Or worth staying in.” his eyes glances towards your sink, the faucet closed yet leaking a few droplets of water. “We have premium apartments available.”

“I cannot afford premium.” you scoff, lightly squeezing Jungkook’s hand. You have gotten a glance at the new renovations they’ve made on the top floors of your building. But your words rang true. The price was double what you were paying - or not paying - now.

Jungkook's eyes tell you what he doesn’t say, his previous words flowing through your mind. He was asking you yet again - what were you willing to do for a premium apartment?

You swallow, glancing a way for a moment. It was 3 A.M and everyone had to be asleep after Jungkook’s excessive banging. Maybe they wouldn’t even know it was him who was here now, right?

Why did you even care what others you never spoke to thought? They weren’t paying your rent.

Your hand squeezes around Jungkook’s and you remove it from your cheek. He doesn’t move and awaits your command. 

You’ve made your decision and there wasn’t any chance of going back now.

You lace your fingers with Jungkook’s and tug him towards you, your head lifting a bit so you could capture his lips with your own. Jungkook is only a bit shocked by your sudden actions, but he doesn’t show it. He deepens the kiss hungrily, a short groan trapped in his throat.

“How,” you say against his lips as Jungkook’s free hand places itself onto your waist. “long will this deal last?”

“As long as you need.” Jungkook responds quickly. Truthfully, it goes without saying, however long you and he keep doing this.

You’ve decided. There wasn’t any going back. Maybe this way, you could find the job you needed to afford living here and you could end whatever deal this was.

Your hand tugs onto Jungkooks, fingers still entangled, as you and he stroll down the hallway to your bedroom. It’s the most furnished out of your apartment as you spend the majority of your time here. Your lights are motion sensored and they’re dim upon entering. Your bed, unfinished, sits in the middle of the room while a large mirror is directly above it. Your t.v. is mounted across from your bed and it has since turned off on its own hours ago when you had fallen asleep. 

Jungkook notices the paintings on your walls, all done by you. He was an observant man, witnessing the paintbrushes inside your sink that’s being soaked in water and soap. You were an artist that was possibly new to the big city and currently struggling. A shame as the art he witnesses is amazing to him.

You let go of Jungkook’s hand and the action brings his attention back to you. Even in the dim light of your bedroom, he can see just how sweet and shy you were. Your fingers play with your robe until it’s sliding off of you slowly. You’re sporting a tank top and cotton panties; truly dressed for bed. But the sight excites him, nonetheless.

“You’re very cute.”

The compliment makes your body feel warm and you have the sudden feeling to cover yourself. You glance away. “Cute?” you murmur under your breath. 

“Yes.” Jungkook lets out a chuckle, stepping forward so he can place both hands onto your waist. Immediately, your eyes dart back to his and you’re stiff once more. “Are you an artist?”

An artist?

You place your hands onto Jungkook’s chest as he pushes you closer to him. He was radiating warmth that was unimaginable - but maybe you were far too flushed and embarrassed. 

“If you can call me that.” you scoff, glancing at your walls. “I do paint sometimes. I can’t imagine anyone actually buying them.”

“I would.” Jungkook’s breath flickers against your ear lobe. You swallow when you feel something warm and wet trace it. Your heart begins to pump faster. “What would you allow me to do?”

You squeeze your eyes shut at Jungkook’s words. It causes something in you to shift. “W-What do you want to do?”

“Cum on my tongue.” Jungkook responds, dirty words shooting straight to your core. “But…if you’re not comfortable with that…”

You don’t want to answer too quickly and show just how desperate you are, but the words Jungkook speaks to you causes your stomach to churn with anticipation. “I…I’d like that.”

Jungkook knew you would.

It happens entirely too fast. You won’t say too fast for your liking - Jungkook was the perfect man for the job. Red flags didn’t raise in your head like they should’ve when he pounded his fist onto your door at 3 A.M simply because he was someone you found attractive. When people think of monsters or those who would do harm, they think of hideous creatures, not model-like men like Jungkook.

Jungkook’s hands push you onto your bed and in an instant, his lips are on your neck. He peppers kisses on your neck, his hands roaming your body entirely. He grips and tugs at your thighs, your smooth skin causing a tingling feeling in the palm of his hand.

A moist and warmth sensation trails past from your neck to your collarbone, wasting no time in grazing sharp teeth against your delicate skin. You let out a short huff at the assertiveness Jungkook gives.

“You smell good.” Jungkook’s lips tickle your skin as he speaks. “Like…like tangerines and champagne.” Jungkook inhales your scent and it causes shivers to erupt throughout his body. “I always knew you would.”

The last sentence is one you didn’t hear.

Hands go beneath your tank top and begin to lift it upwards. Your back arches a bit once you feet Jungkook’s squeeze your flesh once more. You allow the tanktop to be pulled over your head this time, exposing yourself fully to the man.

“So pretty.” Jungkook murmurs, the same hands going to grip your breasts in his palms. He grunts, dark eyes becoming clouded with lust.

You release a soft squeeze when Jungkook twists your nipples between your index and middle finger, his eyes flickering up to see your reaction. “You like that?” he asks, though he knows you do. You’re biting your lips to suppress a moan. 

Jungkook decides he wants to hear those pretty moans he knows you have. He leans down to flicker his tongue against your hardened nipple, eyes looking up at your scrunched face. The tip of his tongue teasingly rounds around your nipple with his free hand twists and tugs at the other one.

Jungkook had wrapped both of your legs around his waist so you could feel just how hard his cock was for you. You couldn’t watch him while he does this. It was bad enough you were doing this with him. He was far too handsome for you to watch and now immediately crumble.

“Jungkook….” your own voice stutters into a short moan. 

“Hm?” Jungkook’s suckling onto your breast now, fully engrossed in them. They were so perky in his mouth that he cannot help but want to stay here forever. He sucks roughly and lets your nipple go with a quick pop. He then turns towards the other one and licks his lips. “Your tits are perfect.” he grumbles, bringing the nipple into his mouth so he can suck on this one until it was swollen and red like the other one.

You are relaxed now, your arms wrapping around the man and entangling your fingers into his dark, soft hair. You don’t want him to stop - the pleasure consuming you. You’re trembling in pleasure, Jungkook’s clothed cock rubbing firmling against your own clothed clit. The friction is unbearable and you want to feel him against you - all of him.

Jungkook thinks your tits are indeed perfect. Perfect enough for him to fuck his cock between them, so hard and rough that he cums all over them. He imagines the way his cum would cover your breast and nipples entirely and even then would he not wish to stop suckling on such perfect nipples.

Jungkook releases the bud with another pop, saliva coating your nipple entirely. He’s panting, lustful eyes even darker. “I wanna taste you.” Jungkook demands, one hand going towards your cotton panties and he tugs at it. “I know you’re wet, Y/N. You’ve been rubbing your pussy against my cock this entire time.”

You moan. Jungkook was the dominant type and he didn't wait for you to answer. He’s already tugging off your panties with one finger and throws it aside without a care. You were suddenly growing self- conscious. You don’t particularly think vagina’s are appealing but then again, you also weren’t a man. Especially not a starved one like Jungkook was now. 

“You have a pretty pussy.”

Starved indeed, you think. Your cheeks warm at his words. You glanced down at Jungkook between your legs, his doe-like eyes staring unblinking at you.

“I’m going to have you cumming all over me.”

Jungkook doesn’t wait any longer. His head dives between your legs, his tongue flat against your clit. Your back arches on impact and your thighs go to close, but you’re unable to. Jungkook’s already made his mark between your thighs and both of his hands are forcing them open.

Jungkook’s tongue laps between your folds, his head bobbing from side to side. He doesn’t come up for air once, nor does his tongue halt its aggressive assault onto your clit. The action itself is weird to you. You couldn’t even say you barely knew Jungkook, because that meant you knew him more than you actually did. You only ever saw the man in passing and yet, here he was. His lips between your legs, ravishing you as if it’s something he’d wanted for the longest.

And to Jungkook, it was - unbeknownst to you. His mouth was watering at the sight of you earlier in just a robe, little clothing underneath it. His eyes lingered on what skin you did show while you offered him the strawberry milk.

Your fingers find themselves in Jungkook’s hair and your throat lets out a struggle whine. Your stomach churns and your hips slowly begin to grind against his tongue, an action he finds entirely hot. His fingernails dig into the sensitive skin of your thigh as he makes no attempts to halt the act of pleasure. 

Jungkook leans back just a bit, his lips and chin glistening with your arousal. “You acted like you’ve never gotten eaten out before.” Jungkook says, the sound of his voice causing your eyes to blink open and look down at him.

Big mistake. Jungkook was already looking your way and when your eyes met his, you whined with a shake of your head.

“Not like this.” you sigh, your fingers relaxing the grip you had on his hair. It would be a shame if his hair thinned because of you.

Jungkook only chuckles, a sense of pride flowing through him. His tongue lays flat against your clit and he flickers it between your folds with such pressure that your fingers go back to gripping his hair. 

Jungkook was going to fuck you. No doubt about it. He had to know just how tight you were first - and he knew that you were. His right hand loosens and he goes to lean away from your throbbing clit. He lifts himself to face you. “I want you to cum all over me.”

Fuck.

Jungkook, without warning, forces his right hand towards you. He places two of his fingers right inside your mouth. You’re astonished by the sudden action, gasping when twirls them inside your mouth to coat his fingers with saliva.

“Good girl.” Jungkook winks your way, the pet name causing your walls to clench around nothing. You groaned.

Jungkook removes his fingers from inside your mouth and wastes no time in laying a hand onto your clit. His thumb twirls your clit slowly to test the waters, eyes flickering towards you. “Have you ever squirted?”

“You’re going to make me work for the apartment?” you murmur, not intending to say it aloud. But when you do, Jungkook snorts.

“It’s already yours.” Jungkook says, his fingers inching towards your hole. Tight as he imagined, not accustomed to him yet. That would be something he’d get you out of. “I think you’d look cute squirting all us.”

“Shut up.” you’re hot with humiliation and your legs shake a bit as Jungkook’s fingers go deeper and deeper in you. Your head lays back against your sheets and you huff.

Jungkook licks his lips, your juices hitting his taste buds once more. He thrusts his fingers in you until long fingers cannot go any deeper. The noises you make causes him to continue, thrusting them in and out. Each thrust is faster and a bit rougher than the last.

“Aaahh, you’re so wet.” Jungkook snickers. Your pussy is taking him so well and he cannot wait to fuck into you like he’s wanted. “I should’ve come to you sooner.” he says. “Look at how well your pussy is taking my fingers.”

You shouldn’t have listened to Jungkook. The sight is entirely too hot, his fingers dipping in and out of you, wetter and wetter after each thrust. You sink your teeth onto your bottom lip and suppress a groan.

“I-It feels good.” you stutter with a shake of your head. 

“Yeah? How good?” Jungkook responds.

“So good.” you squeeze around his fingers, eyes daring to close. Your hand reaches out and you touch his shirt to keep him close. “So so good.”

Your hand involuntarily brings Jungkook closer to you until his face is inches from yours. Your forehead places against his and you sigh out a moan.

“You look so cute when you’re fucked out, baby.” Jungkook comments and presses his lips against yours. You taste yourself and the experience has you moaning into the kiss, but deepening it. You were going to wrinkle his shirt, but you’re positive he doesn’t mind in the slightest. “Let’s see how many fingers you can handle.”’

Jungkook adds a third finger, his biceps flexing as he pounds them inside of you. You’re leaking into his palm and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

The kissing grows intense, your tongue fighting along his. It’s entirely filthy - you doing this with a man you barely know. Yet, you cannot bring yourself to care now. When it was all said and done you would regret your decision to whore yourself out for a place to stay.

Jungkook breaks the kiss first, his tongue trailing away from yours and instead his teeth biting onto your bottom lip, tugging it a bit. Your pussy continues to clench around his fingers, your thighs shaking and stomach churning. The familiar feeling is near - one that you typically feel upon pleasuring yourself.

“It’s okay, baby, let go.” Jungkook’s breath hits against your jaw. His lips are on your skin once more, littering your jaw and chin with possessive kisses that lingers. “Cum all over me like I know you can.”

Jungkook’s free hand roams the curve of your body encouragingly, his right plunging in and out of you. Your head hangs back and without a second thought, a squeal lets out from your throat - one that would be embarrassing if your vision wasn’t blurred with lust.

“Shit, shit, shit.” you can feel it coming - so does Jungkook. He hovers above you, eyes unblinking as you begin to cum. You were so pretty, he thinks. Pretty and adorable, innocent and to yourself. As many times as he’s watched you through the cameras go in and out of your apartment, never anyone with you. You were the perfect person, he thinks. Someone for him and just him.

Jungkook gives a final thrust just as you cum, your back arching. He doesn’t remove his fingers, enjoying the way the creamy white arousal coats his palm and he lets out a satisfied hum. He cannot wait to fuck you. Not now, as much as he would like that. But soon. “You’re exhausted.” he murmurs after a few moments. Slowly, he begins to remove his fingers from inside of you. “Get some rest.”

“Huh?” you say, chest rising and falling. “You aren’t…we aren’t-”

“I’m going to fuck you.” Jungkook says, words crude. “No doubt. Just not yet. You’re tired.” he says. “I woke you up late. Don’t ignore my calls tomorrow.”

You were tired, a sleepy sight leaving you. Your body lays limp onto your bed and even nodding to Jungkook to show him that you understood was far too exhausting to you. “Okay…” you say. “...thank you.”

Jungkook is silent.

“For…” you swallow. The conversation after the hookup is always the hardest - and most embarrassing. “...you know.”

It’s humiliating to say ‘for letting me fuck you for a place to stay’ but you’re positive he understands. 

Jungkook grins. “No problem.” he responds. “I’ll be by tomorrow, Y/N. I have the perfect apartment for you.” One where he could always keep a good eye on you.

[celestiamour]

‧₊˚✧ ❛[ bad liar ]❜

━━━ .°˖✧ requested by @gothic-rat112 (lost the ask...) ˚₊ ⊹

ft. seong gi-hun x f! reader — squid game

╰₊✧ how he is when jealous & insecure┊1.2k words 

setting: season 1 contains: age gap relationship (unspecified but legal obviously), insecurity & jealousy, he’s a little immature & broke as hell but it’s okay i love pathetic men, reader is a sweetheart, this is all over the place omfg

➤ author's note: okay i kinda went on a tangent, first season because i miss his stupid smile and his fluffy hair (also look at how cute he is in this gif omfg i love him sm, i need to write for him more, underrated in his own show, THE PUPPY EYES)

╰₊✧ honestly, gi-hun isn’t so much as jealous as he is insecure. sure, he has an outgoing personality and always makes you laugh without fail, but he can’t think of any other positive traits aside from that. he doesn’t think of himself as particularly attractive with his scruffy appearance, and he’s painfully aware that he’s lacking when it comes to finances and has a gambling problem to boot. on top of all that, he was a divorced middle-aged man who didn’t even have joint custody of his only daughter and still lived with his mom rent-free, a terrible husband, father, and son— he’s truthfully the type of man people avoid when dating.

╰₊✧ yet he still managed to pull a pretty young thing like you who looks past all that, not sure if you were stupid or desperate. during the first few weeks of being together, he made jokes about still being able to date younger women in his old age because he was still in disbelief it was happening, but when you stuck by his side through all his flaws and the first year passed with you supporting him to get better, insecurity hit him like a ton of bricks when he realized that he was genuinely in love with you and that he didn’t have what it took to be the boyfriend you deserved when he wasn’t even someone his biological family deserved. 

╰₊✧ he sees other people buying their girls jewelry and clothing from name-brand stores, taking them out to eat in luxury restaurants with multiple courses, driving them around in european cars, and he’s out here saving money to do something as little as cake for your anniversary. he’s always on cloud nine when he spends time with you, but there’s something so humbling about looking up “broke date ideas” and scraping together what he already has to make it more special. no matter how much things like that don’t matter to you with the mindset of the intention counting more than the price, he still feels shitty about having you pay for most of the things you do together when he’s the man and the older one in the relationship along with the fact that you were barely better off than he was. 

walks around to admire the sights: especially during holiday seasons when there are pretty lights, you like holding his hand and admiring the sights of the city you often take for granted. if the streets are empty then he doesn’t mind it, but he does get self-conscious about the looks you both get so it’s not super common.

candlelit dinners of takeout and beer: a regular one, gi-hun likes to gather a bunch of candles to make the place look a little more romantic, maybe even having some roses to make it look nicer. the man doesn’t cook much though, so you’ll just have replated takeout with bottles of beer, but he always makes it lively with conversation and puts effort into fixing his hair to look more handsome.

and anything else he can think of, he can be really creative when it comes to you and you’re pleasantly surprised each time.

╰₊✧ these things bother him a lot more than he will let on, but he tries to stay all smiles around you which you see right through like glass. he’s a bad liar, a trait he would always get in trouble for when he was a child since he couldn’t lie about his antics.

╰₊✧ he feels awful when he finds that you also entered these games to pay off your respective debts, because no matter how much you try to convince him you aren’t, he knows that you intended to use any extra money to help him out as well with his debt being higher than yours. it should be the other way around, he should be the one helping you, and when the first shots are fired during “red light, green light,” he makes you swear that you won’t come back.

╰₊✧ of course, you do come back, because while he is your boyfriend, you’re also a grown-ass woman who can do what she pleases (also because you’re desperate and prefer not to find out what those loan sharks would do to you if it took too long to pay them back, and you might as well go to support gi-hun because you know his ass went back).

╰₊✧ he feels a little bit better about himself seeing all of the other people in a similar position as him, drowning in debt and petrified of death. he tries to be protective over you, but let’s be honest, you’re the protective one who mothers him, and since the constant threat of death is always looming, he lets you do it even if it looks stupid. people are either judgemental or jealous, but there are bigger things to worry about.

“people are staring…” he muttered, his eyes darting around to meet theirs and watching as they looked away the second eye contact was made. “you don’t need to do this, you know, it’s a little embarrassing.”

“i don’t care, let them stare,” you stated simply, rubbing into the back of his shoulders with practiced circular motions. “they are just jealous that they don’t have a cute girlfriend to take care of them like you do, and i want to! your muscles are so tense— i don’t want you participating in the next games when you aren’t in the best shape. we could die any day here, i want to give you all the love i can!”

╰₊✧ jealous of sang-woo with his intelligence and emotional security. even if both of them are wearing the same teal tracksuit, his childhood friend was in here because of failed investments which sounded a lot better than just losing constant bets in gambling dens. (to be fair, if you were gi-hun’s controversially young girlfriend, i don’t think either of you would get along well as he probably looks down on you and you probably find him stuck up, so he doesn’t have to worry about you being stolen away by him). not really jealous of that block-head deok-su hitting on you, after the little altercation they had on the first day, more annoyed than anything but the feeling quickly vanishes when he sees you reject him with a roll of your eyes. 

╰₊✧ actually jealous of anyone your age paying attention to you, especially ali who has a really sweet personality and gets along with you really well, maybe even sae-byeok who has a pretty face and is decently nice once you get to know her. 

“you need to stop pouting.”

“‘m not pouting…”

“you’re a bad liar, you know that? but it’s so cute,” you exclaimed, reaching out to pinch his cheeks childishly. “you don’t need to be jealous of ali, he’s already married and has a kid.”

“i know, i know…”

“i don’t think you do.”

╰₊✧ it’s so obvious when he’s jealous, it’s actually painful. he stares holes into the head of the person talking to you and is pouty until you address it. he’ll also blush when you call him out and tease him about it, it’s so cute. please give him assurance, pinch his cheeks, ruffle his fluffy hair, and give him lots of kisses, he deserves it.

(author is slightly delirious with a fever, i took medicine dw, i just really wanna kiss gihun)

[viasdiary]

luigi’s always taking advantage of us in bed but when do we take advantage of him?? #usehim

love this prompt i definitely need to write more sub luigi fics

☆ please (luigi mangione x reader)

☆ warnings: rough sex, overstim, crying, begging, corruption, noncon if you squint?

☆ reader takes luigi's virginity and rides him until he's crying and begging

you’re sprawled out on the couch, half-watching tv, but your attention keeps drifting to luigi. he’s sitting beside you, one leg casually tucked under him, his broad shoulders filling out his black t-shirt. the shirt fits him just right—snug across his shoulders, stretching slightly over his chest and arms. it’s simple, but it’s working. the gray sweats he’s wearing hang low on his hips, letting the band of his boxers peek out.  his posture's stiff as he nervously fiddles with his phone. the two of you have hung out plenty of times before, but tonight feels different, there's some tension in the air, some feeling you can’t quite shake.

you’ve noticed it for a while now: how he looks at you when he thinks you’re not paying attention, how his smile lingers a little longer than it should. you know he's into you. and honestly? the fact that he's a little clueless about what to do with that attraction just makes it more fun.

"so," you begin, glancing over at him with a smirk, "you ever hooked up with anyone at one of your little frat parties?"

he pauses, clearly not expecting you to ask that, then chuckles nervously, rubbing the back of his neck.

“uh, i mean… yeah, i’ve... hooked up with people, just not, like... that much, y'know?” he looks down at his phone, like maybe he can escape the conversation if he stares hard enough.

you let the silence hang for a moment, taking a calculated breath before leaning in slightly, watching the way his body tenses. "really? i find that hard to believe, especially for a guy as handsome as you," you say, your voice low.

he glances at you quickly, his eyes darting away when they meet yours. it’s cute—his usual cocky frat boy act falling apart under your attention.

“i mean, i’ve just been busy with school, that's all. not like i’m... avoiding it,” he mutters, but you can tell by the way he avoids your gaze that there’s more to it than just being "busy."

you smile knowingly, then shift just a little closer on the couch, your knee brushing his. it's subtle, but you notice the way he freezes at the contact. "y'know," you say casually, your voice low, "if you haven't had a real hookup, maybe i should, like, show you what you’re missing."

luigi's eyes widen, his gaze snapping to yours. for a moment, he seems frozen, processing your words. his brows press together a little. "and what exactly would that entail?"

you lean in closer, your lips nearly brushing his ear. "well," you murmur, "i could start by showing you how to properly kiss someone." your hand slides onto his thigh, feeling the warmth of his skin through the thin material of his sweats. "then maybe we could explore a few... other things."

luigi swallows hard, his breath catching. you can feel the tension in his body, the way he's holding himself back.

"i, uh... i think i'd like that," he manages to say, his voice barely above a whisper.

you pull back slightly, meeting his eyes. there's a mix of desire and nervousness in his gaze that sends a thrill through you. you decide to take charge, knowing he needs a little push.

"come here," you say softly, cupping his face with your free hand. you guide him closer, feeling his warm breath against your lips. pausing just a tiny bit away from his face, you let the anticipation build for a moment before closing the distance.

the kiss starts gentle, almost tentative. luigi's lips are soft, and you can taste a hint of the beer he'd been drinking earlier. as you deepen the kiss, you feel him relax into it, his hand coming up to rest on your waist.

you break away briefly, watching his face. his eyes are closed, lips slightly parted, a flush spreading across his cheeks. when his eyes flutter open, they're dark with want. "how was that?” you ask, grinning   "so good."  luigi's voice comes out barely a whisper. his eyes are still locked on yours, filled with a mixture of awe and growing desire. you can't help but feel a surge of satisfaction at his reaction. "oh, we're just getting started," you murmur, running your fingers through his soft curls. he leans into your touch.

"show me more," he breathes, and the vulnerability in his voice sends a shiver down your spine.

you shift, swinging one leg over to straddle his lap. his hands instinctively move to your hips, gripping tightly as if to steady himself. you can feel the heat radiating from his body, the slight tremor in his fingers.

"you’re so shaky," you whisper, placing your hands on his chest. you can feel his heart racing beneath your palms. as you sit in his lap you can feel him hardening beneath you.

“are you already fucking hard?” you scoff, a smug grin playing on your lips. he can’t even look you in the eyes. “sorry,” he mutters. you look down at him,

 "that’s right." you say, your voice husky. you grind down against him slightly, eliciting a soft gasp.

luigi's grip on your hips tightens, his fingers digging into your skin. you can see the internal struggle playing out on his face—the desire to let go warring with his nervousness.

you lean in, trailing kisses along his jaw. "relax," you murmur against his skin. "just feel."

his head falls back, exposing the column of his throat. you take the opportunity to nip and suck at the sensitive skin there, leaving a mark that will be visible tomorrow. the thought of everyone seeing it, knowing what you did, sends a thrill through you.

luigi lets out a low moan, his hips bucking up involuntarily. "god," he breathes.

“i've never done this before, i'm sorry” he says, looking up at you with his wide brown eyes. he says it so desperately, and you know in that moment, you need to fucking ruin him.

"shh," you soothe, cupping his face in your hands. "i'm gonna take care of that."

his eyes search yours, vulnerability and trust shining in them. you lean in, capturing his lips in a deep, passionate kiss. as you explore his mouth with your tongue, you feel some of the tension leave his body.

your hands slide down his chest, feeling the defined muscles beneath his shirt. when you reach the hem, you break the kiss just long enough to murmur, "can i take this off?"

luigi nods eagerly, lifting his arms to help you remove the shirt. as it comes off, you can't help but admire his toned physique. your fingers trace the lines of his abs, feeling him shiver beneath your touch.

"you're fuckin’ perfect," you breathe, leaning in to press kisses along his collarbone. he's unbearably hard beneath you and you can feel his erection pressing into your inner thigh. you grind down against him again, relishing the way his breath hitches.

"please," luigi whimpers, his hips jerking up to meet yours. 

"please what?" you tease, nipping at his earlobe. "use your words, lu." he swallows hard, his cheeks flushing an even deeper shade of red.

"i... i need..." he trails off, struggling to articulate his desires. you decide to take pity on him.

"you want me to touch you?" you ask, your hand hovering just above the waistband of his sweats.

luigi nods frantically. "yes, god yes." he breathes.

slowly, torturously, you slide your hand beneath the fabric. when your fingers wrap around his length, luigi lets out a strangled moan, his head falling back against the couch. he's already dripping precum  you stroke him slowly, savoring the way he trembles beneath you.

his cock is hot and heavy in your hand, pulsing with each movement. you use his precum to slick your motions, making each stroke smoother.

"fuck," luigi gasps, his hips bucking into your touch. his eyes are squeezed shut, lips parted as he pants heavily.

you lean in, pressing open-mouthed kisses along his neck.

"does that feel good, baby?" you murmur against his skin.

he nods, unable to form words. his hands grip your hips tighter, fingers digging in hard enough to leave marks.

you speed up your strokes, twisting your wrist on the upstroke in a way that makes him cry out. "you're so responsive," you mutter, nipping at his earlobe. "i love it."

“i'm close,” he whines.you stop abruptly, pushing off his chest to look down at him. he’s looking up at you, wide eyed and needy.

“why'd you stop?” he practically begs.

“did i say you could fucking finish?” you chuckle cruelly.

“please,” he whines, his voice shaky.

“please let me finish,” he groans.

"anything you want, luigi" you coo, sliding down his lap and kneeling on the floor in front on the couch, both your hands planted on his thighs. you drag his sweatpants and boxers down to his ankles, letting his erection spring free, his tip pink and swollen, glistening with precum.

"i'll let you finish," you say, taking his length in your hand before guiding the tip into your mouth. he's completely overwhelmed by the sight of you stroking him, taking him in your mouth and sucking softly.

"fuck," he breathes, his head falling back against the couch. his hands grasp at your hair as you slide your mouth down around his cock. you let him hit the back of your throat as you look up at him. you move up and down, the sound of you gagging on his thick cock fills the room.

he's lost in the sensation, his hips thrusting forward into your mouth, trying desperately to chase his release. he's so close, his entire body tense.

"fuck, please," he pleads, his voice strained. "let me cum, please." you pull off him, stroking him hard and fast. "beg for it," you tease, a smirk playing on your lips.

"please," luigi begs, his voice cracking. "i need to cum, please let me cum." you continue to stroke him, feeling his cock throb in your hand.

"let go, baby" you murmur, leaning forward to swirl your tongue around his tip.

"oh, fuck" he moans, his hips jerking erratically as his orgasm hits him.

you swallow down every drop of his cum, continuing to stroke him through his climax. he's gasping and shuddering, his fingers tangled in your hair.

when he's finally spent, you sit back, wiping the corner of your mouth with your thumb.

"you felt so fucking good," he pants, a smile spreading across his face.

"oh, you thought we were done?" you stifle a laugh.

"i'm nowhere near fuckin' finished with you." you say, his smile fading as you pull down your skirt and panties before climbing back onto his lap.

"but i just finished-" he says softly before you cut him off.

"you didn't think i was done with you did you? i haven't even come yet, luigi" you say, guiding his hand between your legs.

"just touch me," you command, pressing his hand firmly against your dripping cunt. he can feel how wet you are, how much you want him. he has no idea what to do, his fingers fumbling around between your thighs, his hand shaky.

"god, you're fucking useless." you mutter, gripping his cock firmly, slowly guiding him towards your entrance.

"you have no idea how much i've thought about this." you whisper, almost to yourself, slowly lowering yourself down on him, inch by inch.

you let out a low moan as you sink down fully, taking him all the way inside of you. he lets out a sharp gasp, his hips bucking up involuntarily. he looks up at you with those sweet brown eyes, his lips slightly puffy from being kissed.

"god, you're fucking perfect" you moan, your head tilting back in pleasure as you start to move. he's still overwhelmed by the new sensations, his eyes squeezing shut as you ride him.

"god, it's too much" he gasps, his fingers digging into you.  you're lost in the feeling of him inside you, filling you up.

"i know, baby, i know." you mutter, moving more roughly. he moans with every movement, his hips thrusting up to meet yours. he's completely under your spell, his body responding to yours.

"fuck, i'm close" he moans, his fingers digging into your hips.

"not yet," you order, grabbing a fistful of his hair and yanking his head back.

"i can't take it," he whines, looking up at you once again, his eyes glassy, tears hanging from his dark eyelashes.

"shut the fuck up and take it." you groan, picking up the pace. he cries out as you ride him harder and faster, the sound of your bodies colliding echoing through the room.

"god, you feel so good," you moan, leaning down to kiss him deeply. you break the kiss, staring at his pretty face. he's all fucked out and crying,

"you're being so rough," he sobs.

"cum for me," you murmur, feeling your own orgasm approaching.

"god, i'm close" he manages to say, his voice strained and shaky.

"cum." you respond harshly, riding him harder.

he lets out a loud groan as he cums inside you, his cock twitching inside you. the feeling of him spilling inside you pushes you over the edge, and you cry out, your walls clenching around him.

as you both come down from your highs, the realization of what just happened starts to sink in. luigi's gaze falls away from yours, and he lets his head rest against the couch.

"you okay?" you ask, a little out of breath.

"yeah, just... a lot." he sniffles.

[mattsobvimyfav]

neighbor (matthew sturniolo)

pt 11

When we finally made it home, Matt parked the car, and everyone piled out sluggishly. Chris and Nick bumbled their way inside, clearly still drunk, with Charlie trailing behind them, her shoes in her hand. Matt and I hung back for a moment, letting the others disappear into the house.

As soon as the door closed, Matt wrapped his arm around my waist, pulling me close. “You ready for bed, sweetheart?” he asked, his voice low and full of warmth.

I nodded, leaning into him. “More than ready.”

We headed inside, quietly making our way upstairs to my room. I kicked off my boots, tossing my bag onto the chair in the corner. Matt pulled off his shirt, throwing it toward the hamper before collapsing onto the bed. I followed, crawling in beside him, and he pulled me close, his arms wrapping protectively around me.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” he murmured, his lips brushing against my forehead.

“Goodnight, Matt,” I whispered back, already drifting off.

The next morning, sunlight peeked through the blinds, gently waking me. I blinked a few times, finding myself completely entangled with Matt. My head rested on his chest, one of his arms draped over my waist, while our legs were a twisted mess beneath the covers.

I tilted my head up to see Matt already awake, scrolling through TikTok on his phone. When he noticed me looking, he gave me a lazy smile. “Morning, sleepyhead.”

“Morning,” I mumbled, my voice still heavy with sleep. I snuggled closer, resting my chin on his chest. “What are you watching?”

He tilted his phone so I could see. “Just dumb TikToks. Want to join?”

We spent a few minutes scrolling together, laughing at the ridiculous videos. Then, when a fortnite edit came through his fyp, an idea popped into my head. “Hey, Matt,” I said, propping myself up on my elbow.

“What’s up?” he asked, glancing at me.

“Do you think you could help me get a PC? I kind of want to play Fortnite again,” I admitted, biting my lip nervously.

Matt grinned, setting his phone down. “You’re serious?”

“Yeah,” I nodded. “I miss playing.”

“Well, alright,” he said, stretching. “Get ready. We’re going shopping.”

Excitement bubbled up inside me as I scrambled out of bed. “You mean it?”

“Of course,” he replied, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and standing up. “I’ll make sure you’re set up with the best.”

I smiled, practically running toward the bathroom to get ready. 

I quickly slipped into a tight black cropped sports top and a pair of high-waisted biker shorts, tying my hair back into a sleek ponytail. Sliding on my hoka’s, I grabbed my phone and bag, practically skipping down the stairs. When I stepped outside, Matt was already in the car, leaning against the door with a grin on his face.

He looked effortlessly handsome in black sweatpants paired with a bear graphic  pink tee that somehow made him even cuter. As I walked toward him, he pushed off the car and met me halfway, pulling me in for a quick kiss. “You look cute,” he murmured against my lips.

“You’re one to talk,” I teased, smiling as I climbed into the car.

Matt hopped into the driver’s seat, adjusting his sunglasses as he started the engine. “Alright, PC shopping. Let’s get you back to gaming glory.”

The drive was filled with light banter and music, Matt occasionally glancing over to check on me. My excitement was contagious, and I could tell he was enjoying how thrilled I was about the idea of building a setup. When we pulled into the parking lot of the PC store, he parked quickly and turned to me with a smirk.

“Ready to spend all my money?” he teased.

I laughed, opening the car door. “No, I have my own money Matthew.”

“Hey, so I actually dont give a fuck.” He said as he pushed me into the store by my lower back.

We stepped into the brightly lit store, rows of tech and PC parts stretching out before us. “Alright, let’s build you the ultimate Fortnite machine,” he said, and I couldn’t help but beam at him.

We wandered the aisles of the PC store for what felt like hours, but in reality, it was only about thirty minutes. I was like a kid in a candy store, pointing out all the cute setups and asking Matt’s opinion on every piece. Finally, I decided on a pink-and-white PC tower with a tempered glass side panel to show off its RGB lighting. Matt helped me pick out two matching monitors, a light pink mechanical keyboard, and a sleek white mouse to complete the setup.

“You sure you don’t want the whole store while we’re at it? Lets get you a camera for streaming” Matt said as we approached the checkout counter.

“Yes!” I said, grinning ear to ear.

After paying, Matt hauled the bulky boxes out to the car, his biceps flexing as he balanced everything effortlessly. Meanwhile, I was bouncing up and down like I had just won the lottery. “Matt! We need a desk and chair now! This setup has to be perfect!”

“Let’s get this loaded first,” he chuckled, maneuvering the gear into the trunk.

Once he closed the trunk, I couldn’t hold back my excitement any longer. I grabbed his face with both hands and started peppering kisses all over it—his cheeks, nose, and even his forehead. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” I squealed between kisses. “You’re the best boyfriend ever.”

He laughed, wrapping his arms around my waist to steady me. “Oh so now I am your boyfriend?”

“Who knows what you are,” I said, pulling back to look at him with a big grin. “This is the best day ever.”

“Let’s make it even better,” he said, smirking. “Next stop—desk and chair shopping.”

“Let’s go!” I cheered, practically skipping to the passenger seat as Matt shook his head, smiling at my excitement.

We pulled into the IKEA parking lot, and I was practically vibrating with excitement as we walked in. “Okay,” I said, grabbing Matt’s hand and tugging him toward the desks section. “I know exactly what I want.”

After wandering through the maze of furniture, I found it: a sleek, white L-shaped desk with built-in drawers on one side. “This is it,” I said, running my hand along the surface. “It’s perfect.”

Matt nodded, pulling out his phone to snap a picture of the tag so we could find it in the warehouse section. “Alright, what else do we need?”

I grinned and dragged him over to the chairs. “A gaming chair, obviously.” After trying out a few, I settled on a white-and-pink chair with a reclining feature and cushioned armrests. “This one matches the PC perfectly!”

Matt chuckled. “You’re really going all out, huh?”

“Absolutely,” I said, already imagining how the setup would look.

Once we loaded the desk and chair into the car, I looked over at Matt. “One more stop.”

He groaned playfully. “Where now?”

“Walmart,” I said, smirking. “I need a headset, a PS5 controller, and… a Fortnite V-Bucks gift card.”

Matt sighed but couldn’t hide his smile. “Fine. But this is the last stop.”

At Walmart, I darted straight to the electronics section, grabbing a white wireless headset, a pink PS5 controller, and a shiny Fortnite V-Bucks gift card. “Done!” I declared, holding up my haul triumphantly.

Matt shook his head, laughing. “You’re lucky im inlove with you, you're breaking my bank.”

“Ill pay fo-” I started but Matt quickly put his hand over my mouth.

“Shut the fuck up” He said putting his card into the machine.

We finally made it back to my house, where we started setting everything up in my room. Matt assembled the desk and chair while I organized the PC, monitors, and accessories. By the time we finished, that part of the room looked like a gamer’s paradise. The pink and white setup glowed softly under the dim lighting, and everything was perfectly arranged.

I spun around in my new chair, grinning up at Matt. “This is amazing. Thank you for helping me.”

He leaned down, brushing a kiss against my forehead. “Anything for you, sweetheart.”

Matt leaned against the doorway, watching as I made the final adjustments to my new setup. The Fortnite download screen was prominently displayed on one of my monitors, the progress bar slowly crawling forward.

“Well,” he said, pushing off the doorframe, “I think I’m gonna head home while this downloads.”

I spun around in my chair, a pout forming on my lips. “What? You’re leaving me already?”

He chuckled, stepping closer and leaning down to cup my cheek. “We’re gonna stream, remember? You, me, and Chris. Only for a bit. I’ll be back tonight, though. ”

The mention of streaming made my face light up. “Oh my god, that’s going to be so fun. You’re going to regret it when I carry the team.”

Matt smirked, brushing a kiss on my forehead. “We’ll see about that, gamer. Text me when it’s ready, and I’ll join you and we can go over streaming rules.”

I got up jumping into his arms giving him a slow and sensual kiss “Thank you Matthew”

Matt kissed me one more time before putting me down, as he walked toward the door. “Your welcome sweetheart”

As he left, I couldn’t help but feel a mix of excitement and appreciation for the man Matt had become.

By the time Fortnite finished downloading, my entire setup was glowing in soft hues of pink and white. The room felt cozy and vibrant, exactly how I’d imagined it. I adjusted my headset, checked the camera angle for the stream, and smiled at my reflection on the monitor. It was finally happening—my first Fortnite stream with Matt and Chris.

At exactly 7 p.m., I texted Matt letting him know I was ready and I joined their discord.

“Ready,” I replied confidently, as Matt clicked the “Start Stream” button.

The chat immediately flooded with messages:

“Matt’s live!!!” “Wait, who’s the girl??” “She’s cute omg” “Not y/n 🙄”

Matt rolled his eyes at some of the negative comments but didn’t say anything. Chris plopped down on his chair finally in frame, already laughing. “Alright, Y/N, you better not hold us back. We’re going for wins tonight.”

“I’ll carry both of you,” I teased, readying up for the first game.

As the game loaded, the three of us bantered, with Matt explaining the stream rules like keeping the chat friendly (a rule that was immediately broken) and not leaking anyone’s location. The chat continued to blow up:

“Chris is hilarious, as always.” “Matt and Y/N are so cute together!” “Why is she playing? We miss the old streams.” “I love this dynamic, stop being haters.”

The first couple of games were a bit chaotic. Chris accidentally blew up our cover by throwing grenades too early, I fell off a cliff trying to build, and Matt had to clutch a victory for us by taking out the last three players on his own.

“You’re welcome,” Matt said smugly as the victory screen popped up.

“Whatever,” I replied, leaning toward my mic. “Chat, he’s only good because I revived him earlier. Don’t let him fool you.”

The chat lit up again:

“She’s hilarious, I love her.” “No way she’s taking credit for Matt’s win 💀.” “Chris is just here for fun.”

By the third hour, the energy was at an all-time high. We had a good rhythm going—Matt was the strategist, Chris was the chaos, and I was surprisingly decent as the sniper. During one game, I knocked two players from a ridiculous distance.

“Okay, sniper,” Chris said, impressed.

Matt laughed. “Guess she really is carrying us now.”

The chat loved it: “She’s cracked, omg.” “Finally someone who can make Matt humble.” “Chris needs to stop throwing grenades lol.”

Of course, not everyone was thrilled. “This feels like a couple's stream now, ew.” “Why is she even here? Chris deserves better teammates.”

Matt finally addressed the negativity after seeing my face scrunch up at one comment. “If you’ve got a problem with her being here, fuck off,” he said bluntly, pointing at the camera. “She’s not going anywhere.”

“Yeah suck it,” I said flipping off the camera as I knocked another player.

By the end of the night, we’d played for four hours, won three games, and spent the rest laughing at Chris’ terrible aim and Matt’s competitive streak. As we wrapped up the stream, the chat was a mix of love and chaos:

“Best stream yet!” “Chris and Y/N’s dynamic is gold.” “Matt’s defending her like his life depends on it, I’m crying.”

As Matt was wrapping up the stream, he leaned into the mic. “Alright, guys, we’re gonna end it soon, but Y/N’s gonna join us for a bit before we go.” He smirked, “Come on, sweetheart. Walk over.”

I quickly turned off my setup, tossed my headset onto the desk, and grabbed an oversized hoodie from my chair. Pulling it on over my outfit, I slipped into my sneakers and ran downstairs. Charlie was sprawled on the couch, watching the stream on her phone.

“NICE STREAM!” she shouted, making me laugh as I bolted out the door.

The cool night air sent a chill down my spine as I jogged across the yard to the triplets’ house. The shadows from the streetlights made everything seem a little eerie, and I picked up my pace. By the time I reached their front door, I was nearly sprinting.

“Ok, it’s actually scary as fuck out,” I announced, slightly out of breath as I walked into Matt’s room.

Matt was sitting at his chair with Chris behind him on the bed, both watching the stream comments roll in. Matt grinned when he saw me, Chris patting the space next to him. “Get in here.”

I stepped into the camera’s view and plopped down next to him. Chris threw an arm over my shoulder. “The real MVP has arrived,” he said, pointing at me.

“Obviously,” I replied, smirking at the camera.

The chat went wild:

“Y/N!!!” “Wait, she lives next to them?” “Not her being scared of the dark lmao.” “Chris looks so proud of her right now.”

We spent the next few minutes reading comments and answering questions. One user asked, “Y/N, what’s it like being with these two?”

“It’s like babysitting,” I replied without hesitation, earning a loud laugh from Chris and a look from Matt.

“Babysitting?” Matt repeated, his eyebrows raised.

“Yeah. I don't know how you two survived without me for the last four years” I teased, leaning forward.

Another comment read, “Matt, you were so defensive of her earlier. Protecting your girl, huh?”

Matt smirked, resting his arm behind me on the bed. “Look at her, and tell me you wouldn't” he said simply, making me roll my eyes as the chat exploded with hearts and “he's mine.” comments.

Chris decided to take over the mic for a bit, answering a few random questions about his grenade mishaps and future stream plans. Meanwhile, Matt and I shared a quiet laugh about a particularly funny comment: “Chris, stop blowing stuff up!”

After a few more minutes, Matt addressed the chat. “Alright, guys, we’re calling it a night. Thanks for hanging out, and we’ll see you next time.”

Chris leaned into the mic one last time. “Peace out!”

As Matt ended the stream, he turned to me with a grin. “You did good tonight, sweetheart.”

“Thanks,” I said, smiling back. “Now, where’s my victory snack?”

Chris stretched and gave a tired groan "Snacks it is," he announced, dragging himself up.

Matt stood and offered me a hand. “Come on, let’s raid the kitchen.”

We made our way to the kitchen, Chris pulling out a bag of chips while Matt grabbed cookies and a couple of sodas. I found a bowl and dumped some popcorn in, adding a sprinkle of salt. Together, we carried everything back to the living room and piled onto the couch.

Matt picked out a movie—an action flick that Chris had been raving about—and we settled in. Halfway through the second movie, I started scrolling through my phone absentmindedly. Chris had fallen asleep against my shoulder, his soft snores occasionally breaking the quiet. Matt had shifted during the film, and now his head rested in my lap, his even breathing telling me he’d fallen asleep too.

I smiled, brushing a strand of hair from Matt’s face. The moment felt peaceful, like everything in the world was just as it should be.

When the credits rolled, I nudged Chris gently. “Hey, sleeping beauty. Time for bed.”

He groaned but eventually sat up, stretching and mumbling something about needing his own pillow.

“Matt,” I said softly, running my fingers through his hair. His eyes blinked open, and he looked up at me sleepily.

“Bed?” he murmured, sitting up slowly.

“Yeah, come on,” I said, helping him stand.

Chris shuffled off to his room, muttering a simple “Now i'm wide awake”

Matt made his way to his bed, collapsing onto it without even pulling the covers up. Within seconds, he was fast asleep again.

I laid next to him, feeling strangely restless. I grabbed my phone, scrolling through TikTok and Instagram. The quiet of the house was soothing, but for some reason, sleep wouldn’t come. So I stayed up, enjoying the solitude and the hum of the night.

Unable to shake the restless feeling, I grabbed my phone and padded quietly into Matt’s room. The soft glow from his bedside lamp illuminated his peaceful face as he slept, his chest rising and falling steadily. I smiled faintly, but the moment was interrupted by his phone vibrating on the nightstand.

I ignored it at first, assuming it wasn’t anything important, but when it buzzed again, and again, worry crept in. Nick was at a friend’s house, and a small part of me panicked, wondering if it was an emergency.

Carefully, I reached for Matt’s phone, glancing at the screen. The name "Abbie" flashed repeatedly, with at least ten unread messages. My stomach twisted. I hesitated, but curiosity and concern won out. I entered Matt's password and opened the messages.

The texts from Abbie weren’t what I expected.

"Wow, so you’re just going to ghost me now that you’re with her? Classy." "Matt, I deserve an explanation. You can’t just act like nothing happened between us." "Does she even know what kind of guy you really are? Maybe I should tell her." "You’re such a coward. At least be man enough to admit it."

Each message was angrier than the last, dripping with bitterness and accusations. My heart started racing as I reread them, trying to process what I was seeing. Who was Abbie? What was she talking about?

I glanced over at Matt, still fast asleep, completely unaware of the storm building inside me. My hand gripped his phone tightly as my mind reeled. I needed answers, but waking him up now didn’t feel right. Instead, I sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the screen, trying to figure out what to do.

I couldn’t hold back the tears anymore. I rushed out of Matt’s room, his phone still clutched tightly in my hand, and made my way down the hallway to Chris's room. The emotional overload was too much, the weight of everything crashing down on me. As soon as I pushed open the door, the sight of Chris sitting up in bed caught my attention, but all I could do was burst into tears.

Chris’s face instantly shifted from confusion to concern. “Hey, hey, what’s going on?” he asked, his voice soft and steady.

Without saying a word, I flashed Matt's phone in front of him, my tears blurring my vision. I didn’t need to say anything more — Chris’s face dropped as soon as he saw the texts. His eyes softened with sympathy as he quickly opened the blanket, motioning for me to come in.

I didn’t hesitate. I crawled into the bed, burying my face into the crook of his neck, unable to stop the tears that had been building up for so long. Chris wrapped his arms around me, pulling me close, offering me the comfort I desperately needed.

“Who is she, Chris?” I choked out, my voice muffled as I held onto him tighter. “Why would he do this? Why didn’t he tell me about her?”

Chris didn’t answer right away. His hand gently rubbed my back as I cried, unsure of what to say, probably trying to figure out how to make it better. When he finally spoke, his voice was calm but firm. “I think you should sleep on it, Y/N. Get some rest. You’re not gonna find all the answers right now.”

I looked up at him, sniffling as my eyes searched his. “But, I need to know, Chris. I can’t just pretend it’s okay.” My voice wavered as I said the words, but it felt like the weight of everything was too much to carry alone.

Chris sighed deeply, his gaze softening. “I get it, Y/N. But, it’s not my place to tell you what happened with Matt and this girl. He’s the one who needs to explain it. You can talk to him in the morning, okay?”

I nodded, even though my heart felt heavy with doubt and hurt. All I wanted was to understand why things had turned out this way, and why Matt hadn’t been upfront with me. But for now, I was exhausted — emotionally and physically. I buried my face back into Chris’s chest, allowing myself a few moments of peace, hoping sleep would bring some clarity, or at least some calm.

Chris continued to hold me, his warmth offering me the only comfort I could find at that moment. We lay there in silence, me trying to gather my thoughts, him quietly offering me the safety of his presence. And slowly, despite the pain, my tears began to subside.

The sunlight filtered through the curtains, but it didn’t matter. My mind was racing, still reeling from the emotions of last night. I squeezed my eyes shut, hoping to drift back to sleep for a few more minutes of peace, but it was then that I heard the voices.

It started with a low murmur, but soon escalated into raised voices. Matt. Chris. They were yelling at each other.

I froze, not knowing what to do. My heart hammered in my chest. I pretended to stay asleep, but my ears were wide open, listening intently to every word.

“I told you, Matt, she found the fucking texts!” Chris’s voice was filled with frustration and anger.

“I don’t need you to tell me that!” Matt snapped back. “I know what happened, okay? She’s pissed, and she’s gonna be pissed at me, but I don’t need you making it worse!”

“You’ve already made it worse, man,” Chris shot back. “You can’t just hide shit from her like that. She deserves to know what’s going on. You’ve fucked up.”

Matt let out an exasperated sigh, followed by the sound of him running his fingers through his hair. “Fuck.” His voice was a mix of anger and stress. “I can’t deal with this right now. I just… I don’t know what to say to her.”

“Then don’t say anything at all until you figure it out,” Chris retorted. “But don’t act like you didn’t know what you were doing, Matt.”

There was silence for a moment, and then the bed shifted as Matt’s footsteps approached. I felt my body being lifted gently, and before I knew it, I was placed on the soft bed, I knew it was Matt’s.

I heard Matt sigh heavily. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. But I need you to stay here for a bit.” He paused. “Chris is right. We need to talk… but not right now. I need to figure out what the fuck to say to you.”

I stayed perfectly still, pretending to be asleep, but inside I was unraveling. What the hell had I just heard? What was Matt hiding? Why didn’t he tell me about Abbie, and why was Chris so angry about it?

The weight of the situation was pressing down on me, and I could feel the sting of betrayal, even though I hadn’t said a word yet.

Matt’s footsteps faded as he left the room, the door closing behind him with a soft click. I lay there for a few moments, staring at the ceiling, my mind racing. But no matter how hard I tried to fight it, my emotions were a tidal wave, crashing over me with no sign of stopping.

Matt’s footsteps returned, and the door creaked open softly. My heart skipped a beat, my emotions still in turmoil from everything I had overheard. I stayed still, pretending to sleep, but I could feel the tension in the air.

“Y/N?” Matt’s voice was quieter now, almost regretful. “Can we talk?”

I didn’t respond right away, letting him stew in the silence. Finally, I sat up, rubbing my face with one hand and looking at him. His face was a mixture of guilt and frustration, like he was trying to figure out how to make things right.

He sat down on the edge of the bed, his hands in his lap. “Look… I owe you an explanation.” He took a deep breath, the weight of what he was about to say heavy on his shoulders. “Before you and I really started… well, before this… I was with someone else.”

I blinked, trying to process his words, but he didn’t give me a chance to speak. He continued.

“There was this girl, Abbie. We were in a relationship, and it wasn’t perfect, but I was with her.” His voice cracked slightly, as though admitting this was a weight he hadn’t carried before. “Then, I found out you lived next door, and everything changed.”

I stared at him, confused. “What do you mean?”

He ran his hands through his hair again, his frustration evident. “I tried to ignore it, Y/N. I tried to pretend like I didn’t feel something every time I saw you, but I couldn’t. And when we went on that trip together… everything just came to a head. I realized I didn’t want to be with her anymore.” He looked at me with pleading eyes. “I told her it was done. I ended things with her, but I never expected her to act the way she has.”

His gaze fell, and I could see the guilt on his face. “I never meant to hurt you. especially after seeing the TikTok Charlie accidentally posted. She’s been bombarding me with texts ever since.”

I sat there, speechless, processing what he was saying. A mix of emotions flooded over me—betrayal, anger, and confusion. I felt like I had been in the dark about something important, and now, I left just how I did in college.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” I whispered, the hurt in my voice evident.

“I didn’t want to hurt you,” he answered quickly. “I thought I could handle it without dragging you into it. But I realize now… I should’ve been upfront with you from the start. I’m sorry. I’ve been a fucking idiot.”

I was still reeling from the shock of everything he had just confessed. I wanted to be angry, but I didn’t know where to direct it. At Matt? At myself for trusting him after everything he had already put me through?

“I don’t know what to say,” I admitted, my voice shaking slightly. “I don’t know if I can trust you. Its fucking annoying, you couldve told me you had a fucking girlfriend. You told me you loved me before you ever broke up with her”

Matt’s face fell, and for the first time, I saw real regret in his eyes. “I get it. You don’t have to trust me right now, Y/N. But I swear to you, I want to make this right. I want you, and only you.”

I didn’t answer immediately, too lost in my thoughts. 

I stood up, feeling the weight of everything. “I need time to think, Matt. I really do.”

He nodded, standing up slowly. “Take all the time you need. I’ll be here when you’re ready. I swear.”

I couldn’t bring myself to look at him. Instead, I turned away, walking out of his room. 

I walked out of Matt’s room, holding back the tears threatening to spill over. The moment I shut his door, I let out a shaky breath, my chest tightening. Without a second thought, I made my way to Chris’s room, my feet moving on autopilot. I needed someone, and Chris had always been my safe space before.

I pushed the door open, and Chris looked up from his phone, concern flashing in his eyes the second he saw me. “Y/N?” he asked, sitting up quickly.

Before I could say anything, the dam broke, and tears streamed down my face. Chris was on his feet in seconds, pulling me into a tight hug. “Hey, hey. What happened?” he murmured, guiding me to sit on the bed.

I wiped at my face, trying to catch my breath, but the words tumbled out in a rush. “I just feel like everything started with a lie, Chris. It hurts. After everything we went through in college, all the toxicity, I wanted this to be different. I thought it was different.”

Chris sighed, sitting down next to me and keeping a comforting hand on my back. “I get it, Y/N. I really do. But can I say something?”

I nodded, sniffling, unable to meet his eyes.

“I’m not sticking up for Matt,” he started carefully. “But I’ve seen him these past few years. He missed you so much, Y/N. For years, he didn’t even look at another girl. I think when you came back, he was just so desperate to get it right this time. He wanted to make it perfect. He didn’t want to mess it up again.”

His words hit me like a ton of bricks, and I stared at him, my mind racing. “Then why didn’t he just tell me? Why did he think lying, or hiding this, was the way to make it perfect?”

Chris shrugged. “Because he’s Matt. He overthinks everything, and when it comes to you, he’s always been a mess. He doesn’t know how to handle the fact that you’re his weak spot.”

I let out a shaky laugh, despite myself. “His weak spot?”

Chris smiled gently. “Yeah, and honestly? You’ve always been his biggest strength, too. Even when things were bad, you brought out the best in him. I think that’s why he panicked. He didn’t want to lose you again.”

I stayed quiet for a moment, letting Chris’s words sink in before I stood up. My legs felt unsteady, but I knew what I needed to do. “Thanks, Chris,” I murmured, giving him a small smile. He nodded, his eyes full of understanding as he watched me walk out of his room.

I hesitated outside Matt’s door, my hand hovering over the doorknob. Taking a deep breath, I pushed it open.

Matt was lying on his bed, his arm draped over his face, but the redness around his eyes made it clear he’d been crying. His head turned toward me, surprise flashing in his teary eyes before he sat up slightly. He opened his mouth as if to speak, but I didn’t give him the chance.

Without a word, I walked over and crawled onto the bed, positioning myself on top of him. His arms instinctively wrapped around me tightly, holding me as if he were afraid I’d vanish. The tension in his body melted slightly, but I could still feel the heaviness of his guilt in the way he held me.

“I get it,” I whispered, my face pressed against his chest. “I’m sorry for not hearing you out earlier.”

Matt’s grip on me tightened. “No, Y/N, I’m sorry. I should’ve told you everything from the start. I just… I didn’t know how to. I’ll answer any questions you have. Anything. I swear.”

I lifted my head, meeting his gaze. His eyes were earnest, full of both regret and hope. I nodded, and we sat up together, his hands never leaving my waist.

“Okay,” I said softly, looking at him with a determined expression. “Then I have some questions.”

tag-

@tbfaptbfae @ch0llies @2muchofaslvt @rockstarchr1s @simply-a-simper @mattscore @watercolorskyy @urfungi @slut4christopherr @mattsturnii @christmastreecake @izzylovesmatt @larnieboox88 @christophersstar-deactivated202 @realuvrrr @namelesssav @matts-girlfriend @emely9274 @sturnslutz

[rafecameronsslxt]

Professor Cameron

Professor! Rafe Cameron x Reader

Synopsis: A semster passes full of intense, seductive looks you finalize the first touch between Professor Cameron and you.

Warnings: Smut, taboo themes, taboo nicknames, light choking, fingering, sex

It's been such a long time since I've wrote.

Masterlist

Maybe opening my legs to a professor during class was not the most ethical way of going about my erotic fantasy but our attraction was not one-sided. When Professor Cameron asked questions seemingly to the whole class, why would his eyes linger on me only to answer it? When I would stay after class to inquire questions about what he assigned with quite revealing clothes why would he call me gorgeous and freely let his eyes sip me in? The way Professor Cameron would walk back and forth trying so hard to keep his eyes off his student, who is forbidden, had me aroused in more ways than imaginable.  

I could feel my white skirt ride up my thighs revealing my white lace panties. I knew Professor Cameron was looking by the stutter in his lecture talking about marketing. I wanted his greedy, lustful eyes to need more of me. I could see the sweat beads forming on his forehead, the gel in his hair failing as strands of his curtain bangs fell to the front, and the tense form of his posture. I had forgotten all about the lecture.  

I feel a tug on my dirty blonde knowing it is my friend Freya. “Focus on writing down notes and the lecture not prof. Cameron you slut.” She whisper-yells in my ear with a small teasing smile on her face. I sigh yet analyze the projector for missing information to type down which seems my busy mind has missed all the information of this marketing lecture. At the end of class I watched Professor Cameron run a hand through his hair and see his black silky button-up shirt, a button near the top not buttoned and his expensive looking dress pants. What could a handsome young man be doing in a lecture hall filled with stressed young adults?  

“Miss Y/L/N, if you could stay after class for a moment?” Professor Cameron inquired. We watched the students filter out of the classroom until there was no one left to hear our conversation. I packed away my laptop, walking to Professor Camerons desk a smile seductive smile plastered on my red lips. “Yes, Professor Cameron? Something wrong?” I ask too innocently. I watch his red face stare at me trying to calculate his words correctly. “What you are doing is inappropriate.” His serious words and stern face make me feel a bit intimidated, but I am not one to back down. “I’m not doing anything. My skirt may have been riding up accidentally but maybe you should not have been looking.” He scoffs at my excuse too knowingly. Professor Cameron steps closer to me and my legs hit the cold wood of the long desk. I’m forced to sit on it, my skirt riding up once again this time fully. “Months have gone by with you wearing these slutty, revealing outfits for me. Months that I have let you have this control over me. You must feel powerful, huh, sweetheart?” Professor Cameron whispers condescendingly and seductively in my ear. I feel his warm hands on my thighs, rubbing up and down slowly getting further up each time. “You're telling me you don’t like this? How I get you turned on during class and no one else knows besides you and me.” I sound like I'm asking but I’m not because I already know he loves the sexual glances or slutty skirts for him. I begin to feel his hard-on through the expensive black dress pants until I hear Freya calling my name. Quickly Professor Cameron steps away from me and I stand up fixing my skirt. I clear my throat, grab my bag, and quickly walk away from the professor.  

Freya is star-struck as I walk up to her. Jaw-dropped and in complete shock is what she tells me. “What the actual fuck!? Were you just hooking up with THE Professor Cameron? The one you’ve been crushing on this entire year???” Freya practically yells too everyone walking past. “Oh my gosh Freya shut up. I’m serious. If this gets out-” she cuts me off instantly “You’re my best friend. You know you can trust me. It's not like you haven’t gone on and on about how hot he is for months now.” She says rolling her eyes and I’m relieved I feel like I can trust her. “Sorry you’re right. Everything is so jumbled right now. How am I supposed to go to class tomorrow when he was touching me like that?” I say still in disbelief of the events that have played out today. We head back to our dorm as I spill the complete details of what happened but when night falls, I start to get anxious about everything that could happen tomorrow.  

I wake up throwing on a more business casual style consisting of beige trousers and a corset top that ties at the shoulders forming a bow. I could not put anything too wild today considering my nerves of seeing Professor Cameron had been shot. Freya and I walk to class slowly but surely as she is my support. Unfortunately, she sits behind me and I’m in the front row. Professor Cameron hasn’t shown up yet but by the time I think get lucky he’s at the front of the lecture hall turning on the projector. I hold my breath when he looks up around the class, his eyes not daring to set on me. It makes me feel upset that he isn’t acknowledging me even when he starts the lecture. I don’t get a glance or when I raise my hand for a question it’s like he doesn’t even see me. Class ends and I give Freya a heads up I will be a few and we’ll meet later.  

Professor Cameron is sitting at his desk, unmoving, until I speak up. “You decide to ghost me today?” I ask tensely, keeping a place in my own seat. He finally looks at me. The first time today. “This is practically illegal Y/F/N. I shouldn’t have touched you like that yesterday and kept our distance.” My heart drops. I can tell he’s lying. He doesn’t mean what happened yesterday was a mistake. “Stop. You don’t get to say that. All these long months and after one touch you give up? NO, you can’t do that, please.” My voice is small and on the verge of tears. Rafe’s face softens up. “If I touch you again, we’ll do bad things princess.” His raspy voice vibrates through me to the right places. “Maybe you should.” I leave it at that, and he walks over.  

Rafe motions for me to crawl over the desk. My legs are now hanging off the desk and Rafe pulls my hips closer to him letting me feel how hard his cock is. His big hand rests on my jaw forcing me to look up into his cerulean eyes, ones I could get lost in forever. I press my sweet, soft red lips to his. Rafe slides his tongue in my mouth and the kiss became hungrier as I grinded against him. I ran my hands through his already messy hair deepening the dirty kiss more. He pulls back a splotchy red face from our passionate kiss. “Is it okay if I take off your top baby?” The question takes me aback. It’s not what I’d expected, or I've gotten to use to horny guys. I nod with a sweet smile. Rafe slowly pulls a sheer string to the shoulder parts of my corset top. He bends down kissing my neck down to my collarbone leaving little love bites all the while being gentle to unzip the back of the corset. I moan out softly at the sweet and sexy feeling of his mouth gliding down my neck. Once the corset is off, I unbutton his white-collar shirt and begin kissing down his abs placing each kiss softly until I’m at the hem of his blank dress pants.  

I give him a deceiving sexual grin as I kiss Rafe’s hard cock through his pants. I look up at him seeing his red complexion and coarse grunts while I tease him. “Does my favorite professor like this?” I question coming back face to face. Rafe nods pressing his hot lips back to my neck making me fall back onto the desk. He brings his lips back to mine and begins unbuttoning my trousers, pulling them off, and rubs his warm fingers over my pink laced panties. I can feel how wet I am by the lace panties sticking to me and when Rafe says, “Fuck are you always this much of a whore for your professors?” I moan too loudly, pushing myself closer into his fingers needing more than this. Rafe grabs my jaw forcing me to look at him. “Answer me princess.” He says sternly now pushing my panties to the side lightly sliding his finger through my folds teasing my clit with each brush which compels a soft whimper out of me. “No professor Cameron I’m only your dirty secret.” With that response he shoves his middle finger in me. An unwarranted pornographic moan comes from my mouth clearly turning my professor on even more. Rafe’s middle and index finger are now quickly sliding in and out as well as repressed moans from me, so I don’t alert anyone to come into the lecture hall considering how big it is and voices bounce off the walls. “I need more Professor, please.” I beg as I begin to spasm around Rafe’s long fingers on the edge of releasing.  

On the brink of release his needed fingers disappear from inside of me. I moan out no, practically begging Professor Cameron to keep using his fingers. “Such a good little student laying down-” Professor Cameron pauses and I hear him unbuckling his belt, pants dropping, and suddenly feeling his cock brush my entrance. He glides his hard cock through my wetness and continues “taking this cock like such an obedient student.”  

As much as I try to be quiet I physically can’t when my professor pounds me into the table on my back and legs around his waist feeling every inch of his cock inside my tight pussy. Professor Cameron wraps his large hand around my throat leaning down to give me deep, passionate yet sloppy kisses and I couldn’t have asked for anything better. My hands find his back nails digging into his muscular shoulders. “Fuck Professor it feels so good,” I drone off with a moan and my nails scratching down his back my boobs bouncing with each thrust of his cock. I hear Rafe groan whispering in my ear how good I’m taking him such a seductive, sweet, soft whisper.  

“I’m so close Professor,” My eyes roll, nails dragging along my professors back, and spasming around his hard cock. A loud sweet moan comes from my messy swollen lips and a few seconds after me I feel Professor Camerons hot cum fill me up. He pulls out sitting on the long desk table beside me, breathing heavily. I keep my naked, sweaty body on the table for a few minutes, taking this warm feeling in. “That was amazing.” Professor Cameron in his euphoric mind states and I couldn’t agree more.  

Professor Cameron brings me my clothes with a soft kiss. “We’ll have to do this again Professor” I say with a little laugh.   

[gaytommykinard]

(this...got long. there's a lot of backstory and two OCs. bear with me)

ok i was brainstorming in the gc about this bucktommy different first meeting au thats canon divergence from s2 which would begin with buck as a single dad to a 4 year old

because one day he wakes up and social services is at his (abby's) door like surprise! you have a child! or at least that's what it feels like because buck never knew about the kid's existence because the kid's mom did not deem it worthy to let him know. it's not like she couldn't track him down, they were facebook friends. but she still kept this from him? which would cause him so much turmoil, like, that she didn't want her kid to know buck is her dad? local area man loses last shred of self esteem he already had a strenuous grasp on.

but now she's dead, so he can't even talk to her about it, and yeah, there's a 4 year old girl in his house who is missing her mom and not liking this new stranger at all. buck is trying so fucking hard to not break down in front of her but he comes close several times. like, is he ready to be a dad? hell no! he's not now (27) any more than he was when she was born (23) but the point is he IS a dad and he's trying so hard to be a good one. (listen, if you know more about the system and you think this is all wrong: i am sorry. this is a romcom and/or romdrama genre type of story. okay? cool!)

so this woman, someone he knew briefly, and they didn't exactly date, but it wasn't exactly a one-night-stand either, but this woman put him on the birth certificate because she was planning to tell the kid when she was old enough and let her decide if she wants to meet him. she wasn't planning on having kids this soon (28), but it happened, and she decided to keep it, she had a decent job and her own place and an adorable, grumpy old cat who stuck himself to her 24/7 when she was pregnant. her parents were well off and yes, of course they were disappointed, because they wanted better for her, but they got over it quickly. and she really liked evan, but he was three states over by the time she found out, and it seemed like a headache to try to coparent with the fuck buddy you hardly got to know for the month and a half you were together, anyway.

the tragedy is that buck will never really know that. this is very much a putting him in a jar and shaking it around scenario. the point is... buck is struggling. a lot.

and then he meets tommy one night. a rare night out (it's taken him a while to get everything sorted, get his daughter registered in a preschool, find a reliable babysitter (who knew childcare is so fucking hard to arrange when you're estranged from your family and your friends are either the people who work alongside you or your ex-(frat house)-roommates?) but he's getting a handle on things) and chimney invites him out one night because he's going stir-crazy at home recuperating from the near fatal stabbing and buck owes him for all the babysitting favours (there were like. 3 instances, if that. and chimney volunteered because he's actually good with kids, which totally surprises buck but he trusts chimney. and he trusts hen a little more)

anyway. he shows up at the bar and there's chimney and a total stranger. a very handsome stranger. a very funny, charming, handsome stranger.

and tommy. ten minutes into the conversation (work calls, chimney wanted to know, he has terrible fomo), chimes in with, "wait, you're the probie!" because he'd heard a thing or two from chimney, they kept in touch after he transferred, no one, not even canon, can take away my chimneytommy bestfriendsim from me, okay? like chimney would text tommy "can't believe you abandoned us. the probie just stole the ladder truck to get laid" so tommy does not expect this guy to be that guy from chimney's stories.

and yeah. buck had barely finished his probationary year before he got custody of his daughter. and it's been maybe half a year of trying to parent a grief-stricken 4-year-old with more energy than she knows what to do with (once she warms up to buck, she comes out of her shell, and quite literally wreaks havoc in the new house, which isn't in the best state to begin with anyway). and he's so tired. there's like permanent bags under his eyes and a preschool-slash-childcare calendar floating around in his brain 24/7. he maxes out at two beers and then switches to a glass of wine tommy recommends and nurses it for the rest of the night.

because the two of them stay and keep talking long after chimney heads home. tommy listens as buck rambles on about remy. offers to bring her around harbor and he'll give them both a tour. and buck lights up at that. he's totally enchanted by tommy (and he can't really figure out why just yet)

tommy gets a text from chimney the next day asking if he got lucky. and oh my god he fucking wishes he had gotten lucky. he was so tempted to ask if buck wanted to come over. have another drink with him at home. (if buck was into it, then yes, he'd be totally down to fuck. if he got awkward, tommy would have clarified that it was merely a friendly invitation. it's schrodinger's preposition). but he chickened out at the last minute, because yes, he's out now, but still not as confident as he'd like to be, not brave enough to ask out another firefighter, and definitely not a friend of a friend.

but buck calls him about that tour and tommy is more than happy to show them around. he talks to remy like she's his equal, and she warms up to him right around the end of the tour, finds her voice and asks tommy how high can he fly and tells him she can fly higher than that. tommy finds that adorable. (enough to buy her an RC helicopter for christmas. he "was at the shop buying stuff for the toy drive anyway, evan, it's not a big deal! you're the one who said she asked santa for a helicopter!")

it is absolutely a big deal. buck is like. a puddle on the floor. god help him. and yes at some point it occurred to him that he likes tommy. like-likes him. so buck invites him over on christmas eve eve when they're both off and accidentally-on-purpose catches him under the mistletoe and kisses him.

evan buckley started the year as a straight, single man and a probationary firefighter. and he's finishing it a bisexual dad to his 4 year old daughter, and a "we'll see how it goes but yeah i'll be your date for new years eve" man by his side. and i think that's hilarious.

[cryptid-killjoy]

"Cool, we're the pineapple under the sea crew if Iorek's in."

Normal chatter until Livvy came up. There was Figaro looking on the bright though.

"True. She's not dead. At least I'm not mourning her legendary pirate soul." He started to grin at the simple act of calling her a pirate recalling how she got her name to begin with. It was so silly. How could he not smile? Then it fell. "Pretty sure she wouldn't want to see me if we did bump into each other." Then it started to grow again. "But watching her attempt to ignore, act cool, or act audacious, whichever would be cute either way." He chuckled at the thought wondering where her instinct would take her.

As for missing the randomness of people in society for these two social creatures Will was nodding in agreement.

"Yeah, exactly. That's exactly what I mean. We need chile, Smalls. I'm more used to life being a chilli cook off actually. Not just Skyline versus Goldstar, but a god damn county fair cook off any day I feel like not being in the walls. You hit the nail on the head there. Some days I even want a Chilli Dog."

Nothing got his smile to spread more than the mention of Hansel. His time in the walls was special to him. But, oh the phrasing, in the closet. He laughed out loud. "Don't crush me with ideas, Smalls. Hansel's a handsome guy." Willem would hardly be ashamed to admit he got off with a couple girls more on the idea Hansel might have been peeking through the secret wall holes and believing he was giving him a show than the thought of the girls he was with. He never said these sorts of thoughts out loud though. Hansel was probably that best friend secret soft-crush he'd never move on because A. dude was straight, and B. he'd never want to hurt Funkytown if something went wrong even if he wasn't straight. He started to realize flirting with Diana too much started to be an issue. He never wanted to hurt a doll in any way. Either way he sure didn't mind giving Hansel a show and enjoyed it.

When they got out of the bus it was hard not to notice the amount of corpse debris strewn about. He flared his nostrils on first foul breath. He put the back of his wrist up to his nose. "You might want to wear that around your neck. Damn." His brows furrowed as his face cringed unable to stop inhaling in the pungent odor due to need for breathing. He'd smelled worse, especially in the beginning, but he still wasn't used to it no matter how long he'd lived in Feral.

All he could even think to say about Quarantine was, "That's Feral for ya." It was hardly shocking even if his nose still disliked it.

Another big smile spread when he saw Figaro with a rather large weapon. "Hell yeah. That's what I'm talking 'bout. Dear Davey Jones. You look so... kick ass."

The best part of Bastien and his hoarding and their strange nothing you need store is everything that's expensive is nothing but a treasure hunt away. This appealed to Willem's pirate looting side. Bastien had a tendency to hoard anything and everything and organized in a system of his own design. Willem was more specific with his looting. That said one can best bet Wild Will came home to Funkytown one day with the Resident Evil VRs for his horror movie watching household. He brought enough headsets for half the dolls to play and even modded them to fit smaller dolls heads. Of course, the Polly Pockets and action figure sized were still out of luck, but he tried to make them user friendly. It was one of his own favorite loots.

"Yes, and please." He was ready to go up and check out the dolls that were haunting his mind tonight. He knew he wasn't going to sleep well if he didn't go check on them. So, he led Figaro on up to Livvy's old apartment. Willem had over time even gotten the key to the front door to the place because he heard of Frank's people races for Feral. The reality was most didn't make it beyond the race and if they did, they weren't prepared for what Feral was. The zombies got them before they had a chance to settle in, but on the off chance someone was a tough cookie that survived the Feral trials he wanted to keep this one space safe. So, he'd be seen pulling out a key of his own and unlocking her apartment as if it was his own. It wasn't a difficult item to acquire when the Landlord's office was abandoned.

"This is it." He knew Figaro wanted to rummage her uncle's belongings, but he still walked back to Livvy's room first.

"Her room is back here."

The shelving unit he made that Livvy never saw would be there, installed, and covered neatly in her collection of dolls and figurines. They were all lined up with care and placed at aesthetically pleasing angles.

He reached in for the mermaid first and sat on the edge of her bed. "I love this one." He said before kicking off the portion of his costume that made his feet look like hooves. They were getting uncomfortable, and it was a show he was making himself comfortable and intended to stay for a while. He was in no rush.

He took a dust cloth that was sitting off on a side table and wiped it off. It was still sitting there from last time he'd been in along with some Windex and dust spray. He intended to wipe down the shelves and tend to each one like he always did.

"She loved this one." He added. The Livvy Mermaid. Maybe he was a glutton for punishment, but he enjoyed letting the memories whirl around his head as he touched each one that were living in boxes before he pulled them out, like a collector too afraid to open them up afraid of them losing value instead of enjoying them. The only difference was he knew that wasn't why she kept them in the box. Willem always saw Livvy as another little giant too busy trying to be what she wasn't or who she thought others needed her to be to enjoy who she was. That's why he knew those dolls were loved even shoved in the back of a closet in boxes instead of given away, donated, or sold off. It was thoughts like that which Livvy never quite knew or understood about Willem because they never dwelled long on depths of each other, but it was still thoughts like that which kept Willem attached. It was too close to home.

"Every now and again I think about bringing them all back to Funkytown, but I think they'll worry they might miss her if she comes back." He'd say as if they were actually alive and had thoughts and feelings even all of these didn't have any of the Geppetto magic on them. Willem believed he understood all the feelings of dolls even when they didn't.

"They don't get too lonely. They have each other." He let Figaro know in case they were worried. It had been a worry of his.

He looked more at peace in there than at the ball. "You don't have to sit here while I tidy them. You can go exploring like you wanted. I can meet you in there when I'm done if you want?" He had a feeling Figaro would get bored watching him dust the figurines and shelves and fluff the dolls.

“I am feeling pretty jolly,” Figaro admitted. Seeing their father was bittersweet but there was a lot of good to take away from that. He was watching over them. And he was proud. The ghosts of their Merry Men friends stuck around. There wasn’t much reason to not be jolly.

“I think I’d make a sick Larry,” Figaro hummed as they careened the bus down the mountain road. “Hey Iorek, you wanna be Gary?”

The bear let out a sound that sounded half-whine, half yawn. Figaro looked over their shoulder at him.

“Mrs. Puff? You want to be Mrs goddamn Puff?” They said, with wide eyes. “Damn. I didn’t know you wanted to go for sex appeal. Let’s fuckin do it.”

They nodded, not having much of an opinion either way of whether Livvy was still going to be active in their lives or not. “Hey, she’s alive though, that’s something,” They said. Not a lot of people were these days. “So there’s a chance that you’ll be able to see her again.”

Looking on the bright side wasn’t always their forte but when it came to Will? Goddamn, they really wanted him to be happy. Even if it was with someone like Livvy. That girl had made him smile, while also being frustrating at the same time. Messy - but at least he was showing his teeth.

“You’re right about that, I miss meeting people,” Figaro said, eyes on the road, their voice actually being serious. “Nothing against our friends obviously but - yeah. Variety in the spice of life and we’re not getting that. I’m growing sick of paprika, I want some chile.”

They didn’t mean this romantically, obviously, but they were a social being. There was nothing shy about Figaro. They’d just pop in and make themselves at home, that’s how they made a lot of their friends. And either they gott rejected, or they were invited in as if they had always been there. Meeting Flotsam, as if they had been instant best friends the moment that they met. The high school cafeteria table where they sat, despite not really talking to Arthur and Lance, boom, as if they had been sitting together since kindergarden. And then inviting Willem over to live with them despite only having spoken for a couple of days. They tested that chemistry with a lot of people. And now there wasn’t anyone to pop up on.

Figaro agreed though. Willem did need a certain kind of chaos in his life. “Maybe she’ll surprise ya one day,” They offered. Granted, it seemed HIGHLY unlikely that Delta was ever going to invite in someone like Livvy, a human that didn’t offer that much to her at all. Not without killing her or something similar. But regardless. Stranger things have happened.

They chuckled as they heard Willem sing and joined in with the tune. “-in the closet, that’s Hansel, he’s a bit shy so don’t scream too much!”

They parked up by the playground and looked out the windshield at the building. This area didn’t get much upkeep in Feral. Willem was the only one who really ever came to it. Old blood - once a bright red but now a brick-brown, blended into the walls, and a few bodies still lay around, decomposing. Figaro grabbed the Dragon-Fruit Little Tree air freshener from the mirror and wrapped it around their wrist. “Man, I hate the smell of the dead in the morning,” They sighed.

The bodies didn’t smell too much. It was mostly just bones and a bit of ooze. Being left out in the elements like the sun and the rain definitely had their effects. But they took a big whiff of the air freshener before daring to step outside.

It was still dark, the sky only lightening slightly, as they approached the building. It seemed so desolate. It didn’t need the Frank and Delta treatment to be spooky. “Why am I getting REC vibes? Quarantine? I wish I had a machete.”

That’s when they spotted something glistening. “Oh hey, a dead cop. Oooooh, hey, a dead cop’s gun!” They said, going towards it and took it out of the corpse’s fingerbones. “Now we’re going Resident Evil, baby. Let’s go hang out with some cool dolls.”

[bangaveragewhitewine]

tender is the Friday night

Dad!Steve Harrington x Mom!Reader

January 1998  Friday nights used to be all about going out - dive bars and karaoke and feeling young and alive. But now, you would not wish to be anywhere other than your sofa in the suburbs.

Part of At Home with The Harringtons

Word count: 3k

Contents: Sickeningly tender casual romance with Mr & Mr H. Parental domesticity with our love birds and their two daughters. Tired parents. An adorable baby and mentions of an exploding diaper and a nosebleed (just in case those are icks for you).

Author’s Note: Well, this has been sitting (mostly finished) in my GDrive since March 2024. I hope it warms your heart on these cold January days! If you see any typos...no you didn't

A warm feeling radiates from deep within your chest as you watch the candle flame flicker and dance on the coffee table. The scent of lavender and bergamot blends with warm milk and baby lotion and the lingering scent of Friday night spaghetti. 

For the first time all day, there is no one touching you. No baby swaddled against your heart’s centre, or resting her squishy cheek against your shoulder.  No toddler tucked against your side with her curious little fingers poking and stroking at you or her sister. There’s no passing hand squeezing your shoulder or your hip, and no brushing fingers or quick kisses as you pass one child or the other over like a baton so the other can take five minutes to pee in silence or eat a snack without having to share it.

Instead, right now, you are cradled by the soft squish of the sofa beneath you. Untouched. Missing it. 

The dancing flame is eclipsed and you are snapped back into consciousness, back into the room where your husband treads across the rug in slow steps on socked feet, gently patting the baby’s back as she fights valiantly against the dragging need for sleep. He is still in his work shirt and slacks - the sleeves are rolled and creased, and there’s a spaghetti sauce stain that is a problem for tomorrow. Steve’s eyes are tired behind his glasses, but you think he might be the most handsome thing you have ever seen.

Ava’s huge eyes peek at you over the breadth of Steve’s shoulder, like a tiny tired marsupial. Despite her Dad’s warm tapping fingers, she’s holding back a burp to eke out just a little more time before bed.

You get it. You do the same thing, resisting the urge to close your eyes and say good night to Steve. You always want one more minute with him, one more kiss. 

Steve gets it too. One more thing to tell you, one more ‘love you’, his voice sleep-slurred. 

“C’mon, bubba. I know it’s there,” Steve’s voice is low and quiet as he kisses Ava’s head. He nuzzles against her silk soft baby hair and you watch his own eyes blink in that same sleepy way.

“Want me to try?” 

Your voice makes his eyes pop open again. Steve pushes his bone-deep tiredness behind a little smile as he adjusts Ava and the muslin cloth to his other shoulder. 

“Mm-mm, I got it.” 

It takes a few more minutes before his coaxing and patting pays off and Steve tells the baby how wonderful she is as he wipes her milky mouth. Ava looks so small still in his arms, a tiny thing in the strong and steady cradle of her Dad’s arms. She has given up the fight to stay awake and your heart pangs already for the newborn she was a few weeks ago. 

Steve dips down slowly on cracking knees so that you can kiss her good night before he brings her up to bed. 

That intoxicating baby smell makes your chest flutter as you brush a tiny kiss on her cheek. It will only be a few hours before she is awake again, needing to be changed and fed and soothed. Despite how wrung-out you feel, your heart yearns for the way Ava gazes up at you during her feeds; her eyes can focus a little more now, and her smiles are plentiful for her favourite people. 

“Goodnight, sweet girl. Love you.” 

Steve ignores the pulling ache in his lower back so you can dole out a few more butterfly kisses. He is rewarded with his own lingering cheek kiss; you nuzzle the stubble there and tell him to go on up before you ruin her sleep schedule with your massive affections or consume her whole because she is simply so delicious. 

He talks to sleeping Ava quietly as he ascends the stairs, his voice getting further away and more quiet until it picks up on the baby monitor.

“How ‘bout it, kid? You sleep really good tonight so Mama and I can not be zombies tomorrow? S’a no brainer to me, sweetpea. We’ll be way more fun tomorrow if we get a little more sleep. Promise you.” 

You listen, feeling full-hearted as you try not to melt into the couch and you vow to get up in just a minute to fetch him a well-deserved beer and something from your candy stash. It was a beyond-deserved treat after a long week of work and a full evening of Beth not wanting him to be out of her sight, wanting to always hold his hand or be held by him in this new bout of separation anxiety that had come with big-sisterhood. Beth missed him terribly when he was not there - a heartache you knew all too well. 

It stung too when she wanted him instead of you; when her face fell a little when she looked around or called for him and Steve was not there, when she was stuck with second best again (at least that is how it felt some days). You had all been totally spoiled during his paternity leave, which bled into winter break at Steve’s school. And then January came and Steve returned to work (with a heart full of reluctance and dread), and you had evenings and weekends to get you through the dark winter days. 

Over the baby monitor you hear Steve’s foot on the squeaky floorboard and the barest hint of the breath he holds as he waits and watches to see if Ava will wake. You smile, seeing it all play out in your mind's eye as he backs slowly out to check on Beth before grabbing the quickest shower and changing out of his work clothes hours after returning home. Finally, finally, he is on his way to you and you don’t have to share.  

As he washes the school day off, you make yourself get up so you do not succumb to sleepiness. You could follow him up, sit on the toilet lid and talk through the curtain of steam, or get distracted gazing at the sleeping girls when you could be gathering laundry. After a once around the kitchen, tidying the detritus of another day, you return to the sofa with a cold beer for Steve, a peppermint tea for yourself and two packs of Reese’s Crunchy Cookie Cups to satiate the post-dinner sugar craving. The couch cradles you once more and you hear Steve’s steady tread on the stairs. Perfect timing. 

Steve’s tired smile, when he skids into the living room in his socks, reminds you of the golden glow of the setting sun. 

“Hi.” 

He is nearly breathless after his change into clean sweats, speedy so that he can melt into the sofa and into you without waiting another moment. Steve is greedy for his time with you, that peaceful pocket of you that he does not need to share. His hair is a damp riot after tugging his hoodie on, towel-dry and tangles combed out, and his glasses are slightly skewed on his face. You are besotted with him.

“Hi.” 

Your arms open wide for him and Steve thinks that this must be how sailors felt after months at sea. He lays his body mostly on top of yours, making you breathless and giggly as he noses at your neck; he is shower-warm with the clean scent of his shower gel. A small voice in your head reminds you that you are still un-showered, contaminating him, but when Steve kisses from your pulse point all the way up to your lips, that thought easily ignored. You hold him to you, winding your arms and legs with him so that he never ever can leave. 

“Missed you.” His voice is warm and tickling and so tender. He kisses your laughter away before pulling back just enough to look at you. “Did you get more beautiful today? Damn…”

You had not felt particularly beautiful today but under Steve’s toasty gaze, you feel like a precious gem. 

“I think I have oatmeal in my hair since this morning and I put on deodorant three times.” Your fingers find their home in Steve’s thick hair, sliding and pressing against his scalp. “That really does it for you, huh?” 

You watch him melt a little and he smiles up at you, nodding minutely. “Oh yeah. You have spit-up on your sleeve too. That’s hot, babe.”

Tired eyes roll as Steve rests his head on you again, guided down to rest by your gentle hand. This was dangerous territory, getting comfortable like this when you were both totally wiped of energy. More than once, you had both dozed off just like this and woke to a crying baby or toddler with little time to nurse your sore neck or dead arm. 

“Don’t fall asleep on me yet,” you murmur, wobbling Steve’s head gently. “Barely seen you.” 

His closed eyes open slowly and he rubs his face before slapping his own cheek. “M’awake. Promise.” 

Steve moves enough to reach his beer on the coffee table, chugs a third of it and settles down on you again, careful not to rest too heavy on your tender chest. 

“Missed you today, Mrs H.” 

He had called you from work on his lunch break, needed to hear your voice after a particularly challenging morning of check-in appointments and lesson plans with the kids who needed his help and meetings with concerned parents. 

“Missed you more, handsome.”

Your call had been cut off by an explosive diaper and the tears that ensued (Ava's from her discomfort, Beth’s because she did not get to speak to Dada, yours because everything felt utterly overwhelming). By the time you could call him back - once everyone had calmed down and there were smiles all ‘round - Steve had a kid with a nosebleed to deal with and you left him a voicemail (mainly of Beth) for when he got back to his cellphone. He had listened to it three times before launching into the final furlong of the school day before the bell signalled freedom for the weekend. 

“Shitty day?” you ask, knowing already that it was. You had asked earlier how Steve’s day was and he had sighed and brushed it off, took the distraction of Beth wanting uppies so she could put a clip in his hair instead of releasing that pressure valve that had been tight and tense all day. 

“Yeah. Fridays aren’t supposed to be crazy.” Your sweater muffles his voice as he rubs his cheek against washed-soft cotton, one of your daughter’s comfort tics, a tell of tiredness even when she insists that she is no tired, Mama!

“M’sorry, big guy.” You kiss his head, closing your eyes as you pour all of the love you have for him into the crown of his head. 

Steve feels that love, the warm wash of adoration and goodness that spills forth from you, and he soaks it up. 

“S’just hard some days. I try to make a difference and just when you get somewhere with a kid before the winter break, they come back to school and whatever’s going on at home has pushed them back like four steps.” 

He cares so much, and it makes you heartache to see how frustrating his work can be and how frustrated he gets when it all feels futile. 

You trace swirling patterns on his back “Those kids are lucky to have you, Stevie. You’re always on their side. M’sorry it was a hard day.”

Steve rests his chin carefully on the shelf of your breasts, smiles softly. “Thank you,” his voice is quiet. You never brush off his frustrations, his moods. You listen and Steve knows you see him, all of him. You never placate or pander, and you are never afraid to try to talk him around or be a little bit blunt when he’s being thick-headed.

“You had a hard day too,” Steve says after a moment. “I can tell.”

You shrug a little, as much as you can with your human blanket weighing you into the sofa (you have not felt so comfortable all day). “There were hard bits, but it wasn’t bad. Beth was kinda clingy, and then when Ava was down she didn’t want me at all.”

There is an almost imperceptible wobble in your voice, but Steve hears it and holds you tighter. 

“She was really helpful with Ave though. Super big sister,” you promise. “Just a few tricky parts.” 

You do not say how much you missed him, how much Beth missed him and how, without his magic touch, it had been hard to work the rattling gas from Ava’s milk-filled belly. He knows, and it kills him. He missed you too, and he missed Beth’s clever chatter and Ava’s gurgling and gassy smiles.

Both content to sit in silence, you are too tired to reach for the remote and choose something to watch (or ignore), comfortable to just listen to the sound of breathing over the baby monitor and the crackle of your burning candle. 

Steve lifts his head after a few minutes, a dreamy smile on his lips and a sparkle in his eyes. “Remember when we used to go out on Fridays?” 

As if you could forget. When you first got together, your Friday nights were spent bar hopping or holed up in a booth in your favourite dive until the need to do karaoke pulled you out onto the streets singing What’s Up and Achy Breaky Heart. Dancing in sweaty clubs to Rhythm Is a Dancer and hosting dinner parties in your apartment which often ended up with a late-hour idea to go out again, or at least venture out to get more wine and beer from the shop on the corner. 

A face-aching smile spreads across your face. “Remember when Corroded played that gig at Lounge Ax? The metal night?” Steve’s face tells you he will never ever forget it.  “Nance and I ran that merch table like marines.” Your voice is giggle-filled, remembering the all-hands-on-deck weekend when Eddie’s band got a headline spot and he almost puked from nerves and a pre-show shot of whiskey.

“You were the hottest roadie ever,” you tease, squeezing his bicep. 

There is an album of pictures in the photo trunk, a mix of your own snaps and Jonathan’s professional shots. If you were not so comfy, you would make Steve haul it out. But for now, in your comfy state, you are content with the memories.

“Two words.” Steve’s laughing now, body shaking as he tries to hold it in. He keeps his eyes on you to see your reaction. “Frozen daiquiris.”

Immediately you are brought back to the summer of ‘92 when you and Robin overdid it on fajitas and homemade frozen cocktails in the tiny kitchen of your apartment near Logan Square. You had truly never felt worse.

“Don’t, I’ll puke.” You shudder at the thought of artificial strawberry and white rum, of dancing on the coffee table to Baby Got Back and crying when the pizza place forgot the mozzarella sticks with your takeout order. 

Steve muffles his laughter, hoping not to wake the sleeping girls upstairs. 

The urge to get him back becomes too good to resist. “Okay, Mr Flaming Sambucca, simmer down.”

His laughter turns to a groan and he hides his face against your chest. “Nooo. Don’t even go there.”

You dissolve into laughter with him, sharing little memories of Friday nights past. Of making far too many fajitas for a Mexican-themed dinner party and accidentally crashing someone’s wedding photos at Navy Pier. There were quiet nights to balance the crazy ones; date nights with just you and Steve, when he took you to your first Cubs game and you were spotlighted on the KissCam, and a night out in a far-too-fancy wine bar that left you hungry for greasy burgers and fries in your nice clothes on the way home. Nights like this one too when you lay together on a too-small sofa, too zapped of energy after the work week to go out again or socialise, when being quiet with each other was exactly what you needed. 

Cheeks warm and abdominals aching, you feel lighter and brighter than you have in days. Remembering the past has been like a factory reset, reminiscing rather than planning grocery lists and washing baby vests, or worrying about who will look after the kids once your maternity leave ends, if you can afford unpaid leave. Thinking about those two twenty-somethings who found each other while finding their way in the world, instead of numbing your brain with reruns or falling asleep before 8pm, was exactly what you needed.

“Are we boring now? Boring parents?” you ask as you wind a strand of honey brown around your finger.

“Mm, maybe. I dunno, I think we’re still fun.” Steve smiles up at you, his eyes are warm and brighter than they have been in days behind his glasses. “Wouldn’t change this for anything.”

There’s a wave of adoration that washes over you, warming you to the bone and you squish Steve as hard as you can. 

“Even for one more karaoke night in McCalls?” you ask, dropping kisses along his hairline. The dive had closed not long after you moved to the suburbs, and Robin tried to insist that your move was the reason it shut.

He shakes his head minutely, leans closer to catch your lips in a sweet little kiss. “Mm-mm, even that. A full night of sleep would be nice, but no. M’happy.”

You smile against his lips, savouring the feeling of his lips and the hoppy tint of beer that lingers long after the bottle has been drained. 

“I like being boring with you.”

Steve lights up the same way Beth does when she’s giggly-happy, with the same pink cheeks and sparkling eyes. “I don’t want to be boring with anyone else.”

Thank you for reading! Your comments, reblogs and likes are cherished and adored!

[kupidachillea]

I'm not sure if you write for him, but if you don't feel free to ignore and delete this ask/req!

Antinous with a fem reader hcs PLLLLLEEEEEASE 🤕🤕

like she's rlly enamoured with him!!

Antinous x Fem! Reader (Hcs or Imagines)

Author note: (Art belongs to @Duvetbox on YouTube). This is mainly going to be Epic! Antonious, not the Odyssey because I am still yet to properly read it.

CW (Content warning): None really. It’s mainly fluff, might be a bit out of character (sorry for that😭).

⚔️- You were a simple hand maiden working at the palace. You didn’t do much besides help the queen and occasionally the prince of Ithaca.

🏺- You were around the same age as Telemachus himself, so you knew very little about the king. Just as the prince. All you knew is that Penelope, your queen, missed him dearly and was longing for him.

⚔️- Of course with the King of Ithaca missing this brought its own problems. Such as the suitors. Many came to try and win the favour of the queen and try to convince her to give up hope of her husband returning.

🏺- Trying to court and sway her to make one of them her husband and the new king. It was tiresome to say the least.

⚔️- At first you didn’t know what to think, but as time went on it was starting to get irritating. Men constantly in the grand halls. Some being rowdy and others trying to pick a fight with Telemachus.

🏺-You could definitely understand Penelope’s annoyance with them. However, something weird started to happen.

⚔️- One suitor that caught your attention was a man named Antonious. He was sort of like the ringleader for the suitors and you had to admit he was quite handsome.

🏺- His physique wasn’t half bad either. With that string jaw line and that smug smirk of his. He was just so…pretty. And though you will admit he is a bit (if not a lot) of a bully to Telemachus, he still seemed to be a fine man.

⚔️- Sometimes you’d catch yourself staring only to snap out of it before anyone noticed. You’ve never been courted before so that’s why it surprised you when suddenly out of the blue Antonious started to pursue you!

🏺- You were ecstatic at first! You felt as if Aphrodite herself granted you this favour and that Eros shot you with one of his golden arrows..however it felt too good to be true.

⚔️- You started to grow cautious each time he would speak to you. Because it didn’t make sense. A suitor? Going after a handmaiden? It sounded ridiculous.

🏺- What if Antonious was just using you to get to the queen? That was a possibility and a good point but you couldn’t help swooning each time he talked to you. His tone slightly baritone and melodic. It made you melt. You got butterflies each time.

⚔️- You were embarrassed to say you were catching feelings. And Antonious noticed it too. That was his goal anyway, he noticed you exact time he came around, and he felt something click in his brain.

🏺- The only reason he showed up to the place anymore was just to catch a glimpse of you while you were working. Trying to talk to you each chance he got. And each time he talked to you, he found himself more attracted to you.

⚔️- It got to the point where he just said screw it and started to pursue you, with your enthusiastic permission of course.

🏺- The other suitors were confused but Antonious paid them no mind.

⚔️- At the end of the day he was more concerned with winning your hand than explaining himself to the others

🏺- And of course he did. You were absolutely smitten with Antonious. So much so that you finally allowed him to start courting you properly.

⚔️- He gladly accepted, constantly showing up to the place with small but sweet gifts for you that he knew you would like.

🏺- And while Queen Penelope was surprised by the sudden change in behaviour she allowed the man to court you, much to your surprise and excitement.

⚔️- At least he had decided to leave the queen alone at least.

[inkempressz]

could you write for a yandere prince x maid reader?

Thinking about a handsome prince gone yandere for a maid…

The prince watches you.

You don’t notice at first. Why would you? You’re just a maid in a palace filled with nobility and grandeur, a speck of dust among the diamonds. You go about your work quietly, sweeping the endless floors, polishing the silver that glints in the sunlight, and keeping your head down like you’re supposed to.

But then you start to feel it.

His gaze is heavy, lingering on you from across the room. It doesn’t matter where you are—dusting the grand hall, arranging flowers in the dining room, or sneaking out to the gardens for a breath of fresh air late at night. Somehow, he’s always there, always watching.

At first, you tell yourself it’s nothing. Just your imagination playing tricks on you. Why would the crown prince waste his time on you? He’s perfect, after all. Every movement he makes is elegant, every word he speaks is wrapped in charm. The servants adore him. The nobles worship him. The kingdom loves him.

But he doesn’t look at them the way he looks at you.

You realize it one day when he corners you in the hall. You’re carrying a tray of wine glasses, trying to pass without drawing attention to yourself, but his voice stops you in your tracks.

“Where are you going?” he asks, his tone light but his eyes dark.

“Just delivering these, Your Highness,” you answer, keeping your head down. You can feel your hands shaking, the tray wobbling in your grasp.

“Let me help you,” he says, stepping closer.

You shake your head quickly. “That’s not necessary, Your Highness. I can manage—”

Before you can finish, he takes the tray from your hands, his fingers brushing yours. The touch makes your skin crawl, though you don’t know why. His smile is kind on the surface, but there’s something lurking beneath it, something that makes your chest tighten.

“I insist,” he says, his voice softer now, almost tender. “You work so hard. Let me take care of you for once.”

It’s not a request.

From that moment on, it’s like he’s everywhere. He knows when you’re feeling unwell, when you’ve missed a meal, even when you’ve cried yourself to sleep. You don’t know how he knows, but he does.

“You shouldn’t stay up so late,” he murmurs one day, his voice startling you as you’re cleaning the empty dining room. You hadn’t heard him come in, but now he’s standing right behind you, so close you can feel the warmth of his breath against your neck.

You spin around, clutching your cleaning cloth like a lifeline. “How did you…?”

His smile widens, and for the first time, it doesn’t feel kind at all. “I know more about you than you think.”

His words echo in your mind long after he leaves. You start checking your room for cracks, for shadows, for anything that might explain why you always feel like you’re being watched. You try to stay in crowded areas, to avoid being alone, but it doesn’t matter.

He always finds you.

One night, you wake to the sound of your door creaking open. Your heart pounds as a tall figure steps inside, the dim moonlight outlining his face.

“Shh,” he whispers when you try to move. His voice is soft, soothing, but his eyes glint with something that freezes you in place. “It’s just me.”

“Y-Your Highness…” you stammer, your voice trembling. “What are you doing here?”

“I couldn’t sleep,” he says simply, as if that explains why he’s standing in your room in the dead of night. He steps closer, sitting on the edge of your bed like he belongs there.

“You shouldn’t be afraid of me,” he says, reaching out to brush a strand of hair from your face. You flinch, but he doesn’t stop. His hand lingers, his fingers tracing the curve of your cheek.

“I’ve been watching over you,” he continues, his tone gentle but possessive. “Protecting you. No one else will care for you the way I do.”

Tears well up in your eyes, but you can’t bring yourself to pull away. His grip tightens just enough to remind you who’s in control.

“You’re mine,” he whispers, his lips curling into a smile that sends a shiver down your spine. “And I’ll never let you go.”

[the-way-astray]

hello everybody . . . have a fintante oneshot thing i wrote. it’s poorly named because i don’t have magical fic naming powers. dedicated to @crescentpaws for his birthday . . . happy birthday and also i borrowed your brainworms for this one . . . you can have them back next week. anyway. apparently you’re supposed to write descriptions for fics and stuff but honestly nothing much happens here except fintan tries to piss bronte off and then gets thrown out of his castle. loser. also you’re supposed to say how many words? idk man it isn’t long. should take about five minutes to read. without further ado, enjoy it or don’t

If I Could Touch the Sun

Fintan wasn’t much in the habit of keeping up with the news. 

He blamed his Ancient state whenever someone was annoying enough to needle him about it or try to regale him with (boring) tales of Emissary escapades or whatever the Council’s latest fuck-up was.

But there was one exception to his self-made no-news rule: the Talentless. 

How far he’d fallen. 

At one point, he’d never have stooped so low as to care about whatever was going on with those who had no abilities, and, therefore, nothing to contribute. At one point, he’d been soaring, reaching for heights most people could’ve never even dreamed of.

But now. Well. If only it was possible to touch the sun without getting burned. 

His eyes flicked over the line of castles lining the path in front of him now. He didn’t strictly have to get his news straight from the top; a walk through Mysterium would likely confirm his suspicions. But he never passed up an opportunity to irritate Bronte.

He strode up to one of the castles nestled toward the side in the line. After rapping on the door far louder than was really necessary, he sat down on a nearby rock to wait. Bronte would no doubt take his time answering, knowing it was just Fintan. 

No less than five entire minutes later, the door creaked open and Bronte poked his head out. He scowled. 

Wonderful. 

Fintan stood up and strode into the castle, shoving Bronte aside on the way. Bronte closed the door behind him with no comment, likely realizing it would only provide Fintan with ample verbal ammunition. 

Bronte’s sitting room: what the average sane person might call the epitome of nihility. It was as bare (or “clean”, as Bronte might call it) as possible, with just a single, pathetic table accompanied by a single, pathetic chair. Fintan immediately claimed it before Bronte could. 

“Why have you come this time?” Bronte sighed, raking his fingers through his dark, thick curls, something that made Fintan notice that his Councillor’s circlet was missing. Strange. But, really, he didn’t care anyway.

“Same reason as always,” Fintan said to the grains in Bronte’s table. “To find that item I left here when I was Councillor. I’m sure I’ll find it one of these days.” This he accompanied with a quick eyelash flutter to just his right eye and a slight twinge to the left corner of his lips. Most importantly: a head tilt, so Bronte could catch a proper glimpse. He wondered if Bronte would interpret it as a smirk or a sneer. 

It was an old taunt. Bronte had moved into the very same castle that Fintan had occupied when he was Councillor, and Fintan was pretty sure he’d managed to convince Bronte that he had actually left or hidden something important in his castle when he’d first brought the item up. Of course, there was nothing, nothing but Fintan’s amusement when he realized Bronte had actually upturned the castle in the fruitless search that had followed.

Not much amused him these days.

“I assume you’ll be wanting those rumors of a new Talentless child confirmed, then?” Bronte twitched his right eyebrow while tilting the left side of his mouth up just a hair. The result made his face look lopsided. Lopsided, because the alternative was to think the expression made his face look handsome yet smug, which, needless to say, was not what Fintan thought. At all.

“You do know me so well.”

“Why should I confirm or deny anything for you?”

“For the same reason you told me about that girl from a few years ago, and that boy from a decade ago, and every single other Talentless child you’ve told me about over the centuries.”

“And that reason would be?”

“How should I know? I don’t know anything about you.” Fintan grinned then—a true grin. Ironic, but true. Bronte’s gaze darkened at the sight.

Bronte sighed, seeming to consider. He always did, always pretended he wouldn’t, but then he always caved. Always. Sometimes it took minutes, hours, days. But he always caved.

Bronte scanned Fintan’s face once. Naturally, Fintan took the opportunity to do the same. Bronte had probably combed out his curls into his favored style—thick, tidy layers piled on his head—just before Fintan had arrived, but his dragging his hand through them had ruined their careful pattern. Dark brown eyes: they were so dark Fintan couldn’t tell where the iris ended and the pupil started. Flat, unforgiving eyes: someone else might have been worried about that expression, but Fintan knew it was just a look. His former lopsided quirks were now wiped from his face entirely; he held his face almost unnaturally still and smooth.

What a drama king. Fintan rolled his eyes, internally first, then externally when Bronte turned on his heel and marched back toward the door. Fintan heard the bolts slide open and briefly wondered if Bronte would leave him here. If he’d somehow managed to annoy him that much. But then he reappeared in the sitting room, stomped over to Fintan’s chair, grabbed him just above the elbow, and yanked him out of the chair. Fintan yelped, but by the time he’d gotten his bearings, Bronte had already dragged him to the door.

“Yes, there is a new Talentless child. All but confirmed, unless he suddenly manifests at sixteen. But he’s none of your business. None of them are.” Bronte spoke the words slowly, bitingly, but they still felt too quick for Fintan’s current state of shock. He wondered what expression was currently on his face. He knew it wasn’t good, if the glee that danced in Bronte’s eyes meant anything.

Bronte spared him one last glance before flicking his wrist. Unfortunately for Fintan, that wrist happened to be connected to the hand that was clenched around his arm. He stumbled over the threshold, catching one last look at Bronte’s lopsided face and hearing the door slam before he fell particularly hard on the very same rock he’d been lounging on not even ten minutes ago.

But he barely registered the sharp spike of pain in his shoulder. Another Talentless child. He had to find out who this boy was. Immediately.

[fly-you-dam-fools]

I just saw a clip of this yesterday, and now today, and I just had to go watch the full thing

I, cried. I cried hard. I missed it when my days were brighter because of them. I missed when I felt confident enough when things felt hard. I missed being surrounded by their laughter in every form.

I missed Hobi’s laughter and falling on his members, and the way he would light up every room. I missed how Jimin would go out of his way to make us all laugh. I missed the way Namjoon would look judgmentally at these six other boys that were his family. I missed Tae’s cutest boxy smile and the way he would say all the funniest things. I missed Jin and him playfully scolding the members but leaving us all wondering if he was the maknae. I missed Yoongi and his soft sweet inside and his legendary unbotheredness. I missed our golden maknae Jungkook for his funny personal Vlives and the way he’s so good at everything but so humble.

I missed Hobi’s strict dance stare, his funny fake ab reveal, the first time I heard that he had no fan letters and I wanted to give him the world, when he cried when they almost didn’t exist anymore, when I found out that BTS would have lost their J-Hope and I cried for just how fate still tied them together, and how I know how hard it is the be the sunshine every day of your life but I feel you and I’m so proud you got to show all the other sides of you that was hard to, I love the dedication you put into your dance moves, trust me we see it all shine through. I missed Jimin’s funny relationship with chairs and his Jimin Effect on everyone and how his voice could go to the sky and back again, how his eyes crinkled when he smiled just right, how he would hold on tight, how his dances were nothing but flawless, and how you’re perfect the way you are you don’t need to change anything about you we love you. I miss Yoongi and being so proud of him that he endured all that dancing even though he just wanted to make music, to keep going despite his injury, for the endless kindness beyond his eyes, and see him in Haegum and thrive and how we see you we see you were here for you. I missed the way Namjoon would purposefully sing badly to make the members laugh or how even though his music got thrown away he kept going at it, and how no Namjoon, you’re not a monster you never were you aren’t now and you never will be, and I thank him so much for loving them together and being the leader we all need. I missed Jin and his worldwide handsome face and self-esteem that built mine up from the ground, his silly dances, his undeniably funny rap, and how we don’t forget that you’re the oldest and you’ve had some burdens to bear too, but thank you for making me laugh every time and smile whenever I hear Super Tuna. I missed Tae’s not so subtle vibe checks, and the way he would control his voice so well, how we know you should have been shown to the world but we see you, know we see you now and we love you to ends that never end, how we’ll remember Yeontan with you and all the memories he brought for you for the boys and for us. I missed our all grown up baby maknae Jungkook who was out there paving the way and learning and brought all of his talents to play, his cute bunny nose and actions, his unsupervised playing hanging over balconies, the way you let your eyes shine at the concerts, and the emotions that you let us see, and for giving up a part of your childhood so we could see ours too, to you getting that degree, and your skills in everything.

For Jungkook for saying rrrrrrrrrrrrap monster and looking at Namjoon like he was the only star in his eyes. For Jimin and Tae to realize they were the soulmates that were meant to be. To Yoongi for yelling J-HOOOOOOOOOOOOOPE and Jungkook for calling Hobi handsome when we know what he was going through. For all the shared hugs they shared with each other that I can’t even recall who embraced who- just one big hug of seven on a glowing stage in a sea of purple.

I realize that I’m forgetting so many things and what was once a pillar of many in my life is growing back slowly with all these vines holding them together as each of them come back, be good to them, 2025

[astralprisms]

Skaro - my githzerai Eldritch Knight fighter tav - painted by @/palicrone on twt

Full image below

[xxplastic-cubexx]

hello!! i just want to tell you that your art is so goddamn scrumptious, you are literally feeding my xmen brainrot and I find myself smiling when i see your art come across my feed. I love how you draw charles, pretty privilege and post (lets be fr he's serving every time)

i hope you always have fantastic brainrot and id kiss your blessed hands for giving us the gift of cherik and charles xavier, you are literally an icon

hope you have a great day ahead of you and more!! you deserve it !!

well i'ma absolutely have a wonderful mornin after readin this AWWWW thank you so so much !!!! i haven't been postin xmen long, so it's been really heartwarmin seein the warm reception to my work in the wonderful tags people have been leavin on my posts- and especially gettin to answer the lovely asks y'all've been sendin in (❁´ ▽ `❁) !! im glad people also like my goofy text posts and esp quotes from my brother he really has no right being so funny at the most random times

i hope to be xmen posting a while: ive got at least 60 years worth of stuff to look through and ongoing, so i dont imagine my interest'll wane anytime soon :]] !!

[sleepy-crypt1d]

going a little insane thinking about that one echo in moxxi's heist that's jack calling his mom on mother's day- a call she very much does not answer- and how much the sadness in his voice when saying goodbye says about him