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mydearzero · 19 days ago

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Bribes | Stiles Stilinski x Reader

18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Summary: You get paired with Stiles to write a paper for Coach's class. But when had Stilinski grown into his awkward features? When had he grown out his buzzcut? Why was he suddenly so insanely fuckable?

Contents: NO Y/N, afab!Reader, smut, Stiles is a bit cocky lmao, fucking in the jeep, reader is related to Coach (wether adopted or not doesn't matter), vaginal fingering, p in v sex, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, semi-public sex, clumsy sex, playful banter, oral sex (v receiving), casual sex, coming inside, mentions of birth control, making out if I missed any warnings please let me know!

3.5K words

Had to get Stiles out of (pls into plEASE) my system SOMEHOW, so here you go. This one is dedicated to @uglypastels for indulging my obsession and continuously sending me Dylan O'Brien thirst edits <3 <3

“Just so you��re aware, this paper is as high on my list of priorities as the Pope is in Amsterdam,” Stiles dropped his binder on the table, startling you out of your daydream. He was exactly 4 minutes late, not that you were counting. It was still impressive, seeing as he just came from practice.

“Believe me, I, too, would rather be hanging around with Isaac Lahey, yet we’re both here. Let’s just get it over with.” Stiles snorted a laugh, but didn’t comment.

You didn’t not get along with Stilinski. You weren’t sure if you could be called friends, exactly. You’d known each other pretty much all your lives, just like the majority of your school. Beacon Hills wasn’t exactly a metropolis.

You sighed and laid out your notes, Stiles following your example. You raised an eyebrow, giving him a pointed look. “Those are your notes?”

There were only doodles, random calculations and sporadic keywords scribbled on the loose piece of crumpled paper he straightened out next to your notebook.

“I’m surprised, too. There’s actual words. I don’t usually get that far.” The smirk on his face could only be described as smug. You groaned. This was going to take forever. You divided the topics for the paper amongst yourselves and silently got to work. The ‘silently’ part didn't last long, however. It never did with Stiles.

“Are you still living with your uncle?” He questioned suddenly. You frowned at the question, confused, but nodded either way.

“So can’t you just, I don’t know, cook him dinner and have him give us a good grade?” The gleam in his eyes nearly made you laugh. Nearly. Instead, you flicked him on the side of the head. He whined something about unnecessary violence, but it fell on deaf ears.

“I’m not bribing my uncle just so you can slack off, Stiles. Besides, I’m never really sure if he even likes me,” you wondered out loud.

“You and me, both…” Stiles grumbled.

You glanced at Stiles as he scribbled furiously, seeming to finally get some of his research done. His knees wiggled excessively as he wrote about the economic effects of pandemics. You wrote down a few key parts of the paragraphs in your book before turning to your laptop and beginning the outline of the paper. Stiles hummed quietly as he read the entry he’d just written, tapping his pen furiously against the table.

“Can you stop that?” You requested, his incessant movement distracting you more than his general being already did. He glanced up, an amused expression on his face.

“What,” he tapped his pencil faster. “This?” You contained the urge to roll your eyes and stared at him blankly. He stopped the movement for perhaps one whole minute before picking it back up again.

You only glanced up pointedly this time. He added a jiggle of his knees in challenge. You rose from your chair, leaned over and snatched the pen out of his hand, throwing it across the library. “Fetch.”

Stiles gaped up at you in surprise. The timing of it was very unfortunate, but you’d never really noticed how Stilinski had grown into his awkward features. Something must’ve shown on your face, because Stiles now looked just as confused, perhaps intrigued, as you felt. While you’d been confident in throwing his pen across the room in annoyance, having him look up at you like that made it so you weren’t sure if you wanted him to get up. You cleared your throat and sat back in your chair.

“Unbelievable…” Stiles muttered under his breath as he got up to get the pen. It gave you time to recompose. You didn’t look at him as he sat back down, but felt his eyes burn a hole through the side of your head.

An unfamiliar tension hung in the air while you worked in silence. You snuck glances at Stiles, who was finally focussed on his writing once more. His hair was longer, still messy and unstyled from practice. The grey workout gear perfectly accentuated his broadened shoulders. He bit his lip after reading a complex entry, and you couldn’t help but wonder what they’d feel like on your own, or on your neck while your hands tugged on his now perfectly tuggable locks.

A few times his eyes met yours. You’d quickly dart them back to your notebook, pretending you hadn’t been looking, knowing damn well he’d seen.

Oh my god. Get. it. together.

“Did you finish?” You dared ask after a while, having completed your own part. All you had to do was put your parts together, wrap it up and finish.

“I’ll give it to you, but you have to give something to me first,” Stiles spoke in a challenging tone. For a split second back there you’d wondered how he was still single after all this time, but now you were reminded. He was insufferable.

“What could you possibly want from me, Stiles? Just give me your damn part.”

“A kiss.”

“What? No!” You sputtered. Stiles’ tongue poked the inside of his cheek cockily as he raised an eyebrow, pointing to his lips.

“Guess you’ll have some explaining to do to your uncle why you’re only handing in half an assignment, then.”

“This is coercion, Stilinski! Should I call your dad?” You crossed your arms, refusing to look him in the eye. The librarian shushed you loudly. You could feel heat rush to your face, but didn’t relent. Asshole.

Stiles leaned closer, running a finger over the side of your face. Your heartbeat increased what seemed about tenfold.

“It’s not coercion if you want me to.” His breath hit your neck as he spoke, sending goosebumps down your arms. “And I’m getting the feeling you really want me to.”

You jerked away from his reach, coming to your senses. You gathered your things into your bag, mumbling something about your GPA being fine, anyway. You stomped away from the table, heart racing. You were mad, not because he was suggesting something you didn’t want, rather that he’d clocked exactly what you wanted so easily.

Concerned Stiles would follow you out of the library, you hid behind a few bookshelves in a section nobody usually visited. You caught your breath, placing your palm on your chest. You dropped your bag on the floor, turning to peek around the bookshelf to see if Stiles was still stationed at the table. Relieved, you saw he’d indeed decided to follow you out of the library.

You turned back to grab your bag and head out, but were met with Stiles’ face mere inches from your own. You were startled, but he grabbed your waist before you could fall over. His hold was strong. Your hands instinctively went up to his chest, steadying yourself. Had he always been this tall?

One of his hands wandered slightly lower, rubbing small circles on your lower back. Your eyes met his, which were just shining with mischief and an underlying sense of self-satisfaction. His tongue darted out, licking his lower lip.

“Can I be frank? You’re incredibly annoying,” you stated, slinging your arms around his neck, finally giving in.

“You can be whoever you want as long as I get to kiss you, Frank,” Stiles laughed. You groaned but pulled him close either way.

“Shut up.”

Stiles obliged and put his mouth to yours aggressively, tugging your body against his. One of his hands wandered up, cupping the back of your head to bring it closer. You tugged at the small locks at the back of his neck, eliciting a sighed moan from Stiles.

“You’re so hot,” he confessed when you broke apart for a second. He turned you so you were pushed with your back against the bookcase, a few books falling to the floor. Neither of you cared as your kiss continued, deepening by the second. His hands held your hips as he started grinding against you, sweats low on his hips. His mouth made its way down your jaw, moving to suck hasty kisses on your neck.

“Stiles…” you sighed blissfully. Heat gathered in your stomach at the soft, breathy noises coming from his lips combined with the sound of them against your skin. He put his knee between your thighs.

“Knew you wanted this as much as I did, fuck,” Stiles groaned. The pressure from his knee was delicious, but not enough. It was almost as if he could read your mind as he slid his hand into your bottoms, working your underwear out of the way somewhat clumsily.

“God… so wet for me,” he moaned. You could only reply with breathy whimpers, trying to make as little noise as possible. Stiles shushed you, placing his unoccupied hand over your mouth as the other started rubbing small circles over your clit. You closed your eyes and let your head fall against the bookcase. Your knees went weak at the sensation, not much holding you up besides Stiles.

He slipped his hand out of your underwear, bringing a finger up to his mouth. He casually licked it clean. He hooked his thumbs into your bottoms, seeking eye contact and asking for non-verbal permission to tug them down. You bit your lip and nodded enthusiastically. When your underwear hit the floor, so did Stiles’ knees. Your eyes darted around your environment, but the school was nearly empty at this time, especially the library.

You had to slap your hand over your mouth when Stiles made contact with your clit, his tongue tentatively licking between your folds. Your breathing was laboured, chest heaving as Stiles took his time exploring. Your bottom lip found itself between your teeth, holding in your moans. Your hands shot to Stiles’ hair. Perfectly tuggable, indeed.

He groaned when you gave an exceptionally sharp tug, taking the time to look you in the eyes. The vibrations of his lowered voice felt good. You had seemingly no control over your hands, fingers tightening their grip the closer you got to the edge.

“Shit, baby… So good for me. Gotta stay quiet…” Stiles mumbled. A small, high pitched keen left your lips. You weren’t sure how long you’d be able to keep the silence up. You looked down once more and saw Stiles palming himself over his sweats as he continued eating you out, rhythmically grinding his hips in time with his mouth.

The sound of a bag zipper closing got your attention. You smacked Stiles’ shoulder to stop, wanting to whine in frustration at just how close you’d been. Stiles paid you no mind, lost in giving you pleasure. You put both your hands on his shoulders and pushed him away, careful not to tip him over. It was only then Stiles noticed the noise of someone packing up to leave. He scrambled to stand up, trying to help you get redressed.

“I got it, I got it,” you hissed quietly.

“Who’s there? You can’t be here anymore! Library’s about to close!” It was the librarian who’d shushed you earlier. You grabbed your bag in a hurry.

“Would you still rather be hanging out with Isaac?” Stiles asked jokingly, wiping his chin. You whacked his arm, storming past him to the doors. He followed quickly, arm wandering over your shoulders as you walked out of the now deserted school. You didn’t speak as Stiles led you over to the Jeep, insisting on driving you home, at least.

You sat in the passenger seat as Stiles ran around to the drivers’ side. You wiped your hands on your thighs, huffing a frustrated breath. You hadn’t even finished the paper, and now you got cock-blocked on top of it. So not worth it. You turned to Stiles as he put the keys in the ignition. He’d never looked hotter than that very second, lips bruised, hair tousled and still pent up, besides maybe when he looked up at you with his face buried between your legs. Okay so maybe a little worth it.

“If you keep looking at me like that I’m gonna pull over and we’re gonna have sex in the back seat like right now,” Stiles joked. Or at least, you assumed it was a joke.

You raised an eyebrow. “Is that a challenge, threat or invitation?”

“Option D? All of the above? I mean, D is definitely an option.”

“Pull over and we’ll see how much of an option it is.”

Stiles didn’t need to be told twice, pulling over in a small clearing as soon as he saw the opportunity. He took off his seatbelt, scrambling to get out of the car. He opened the door for you, closing it and letting you in the back seat. You laid back across the seats and manoeuvred your top off, throwing it at Stiles. He caught it, quickly discarding it somewhere in the car. He shimmied his pants down his legs, not bothering to take off his shoes. You did the same, leaving you in your underwear. Stiles stopped to take a proper look.

“You’re gonna kill me. You’ve already killed me and this is my pre-hell Heaven trailer of what could’ve been. God iwantyousobad.” You pulled him on top of you as you laughed.

“Less talking, more fucking, yes?”

“Yes, I agree. Wholeheartedly,” Stiles nodded furiously, tugging his shirt over his head with only one hand. Hot. He finally closed the car door behind him before he could forget.

“I’m going to assume you don’t just casually keep condoms in your car?” You questioned. Stiles closed his eyes and tightened his lips in frustration, mentally scolding himself. He finally had you in his Jeep, half-naked, ready to fuck, and he didn’t have a freaking condom??? He finally shook his head no, sighing and pulling away from you slowly.

You leaned up on your elbows and whispered in his ear. “Hmmm… Guess you’re just gonna have to come inside of me… Wouldn’t want to make a mess of the car…”

Stiles pounced at that, kissing you like his life depended on it. He tugged your underwear back down your legs, now very familiar with your pelvic region. He struggled to undo your bra, cursing under his breath. You laughed and lended a hand, undoing it and slipping it off your shoulders.

“Holy shit,” Stiles groaned. “Promise me to thank Coach for pairing us up.”

“You did not just mention my uncle as a reaction to seeing me naked,” you complained.

“I did. Not sorry. He did me a favour.”

You ignored the comment and decided to kiss him to shut him back up. Him and his mouth… God his mouth. You were still pent up from the library, and if he didn’t fuck you soon you were pretty sure you’d go crazy.

“Stiles, want you,” you whined impatiently. He was too busy paying attention to your nipples, taking one between his teeth as he made eye contact. “Shit,” you gasped.

Your hands wandered down his torso, stopping at the hem of his boxers. You tugged them down, setting his very hard cock free from its confinement. The tip was red, dribbling with pre-cum. He was obviously just as pent up as you felt. You gave him a few experimental tugs with your hand before lining him up with your entrance.

Stiles took over, taking his time to slowly push inside you. You put your hands on his shoulders, holding your breath at the stretch. He was so much bigger than you’d expected. You both moaned when he bottomed out. You felt so full, it was insane. You dug your nails into his shoulders and gave him a nod, indicating he could move.

He set a slow pace, testing the waters. He was enthralled by the jiggle of your tits with every movement. Typical. His hands moved up to hold them, almost as leverage, as he picked up his pace.

“Fuck, so good,” Stiles moaned. You were about to move a hand down to touch yourself, but Stiles stopped you.

“Let me make you feel good, let me make you come.” He put one hand on your shoulder to steady himself and brought the other down to where you were joined. He continued to thrust, putting his fingers on your clit. It took him a second, but he found a rhythm where he could thrust and stroke at the same time.

“Oh my god, Stiles!” You moaned, the added sensation feeling amazing. The sound of his hips slapping against yours was filthy to say the least. You moved to hold onto something above your head as Stiles sped up. Your hands soon found the little ledge, and you gripped it to the best of your ability.

Stiles bent down to kiss you, pace still unrelenting. The new angle of him bent forward sent his cock exactly where you needed it.

“Shit, oh my god.” It was all the confirmation Stiles needed to keep it up.

“So pretty, so tight around my cock. Such pretty tits. You feel so good,” he mumbled against your lips.

The pace of his hips became more erratic, both of you nearing the edge. Your knuckles turned white with how tight you were gripping the car door.

“Gonna come inside you,” Stiles moaned. “Fill you up so nice.”

“Yes, Stiles, please!”

“Fuck, so good, so good for me,” Stiles was becoming more talkative and less coherent as he lost himself in the pleasure. He was mouthing at your jawline, sucking another hickey where there were already plenty.

“Fuck, Stiles, gonna come,” you whined. You could feel his smile against your neck. Smug idiot. He then started rubbing your clit exactly the way you liked it. Combined with him hitting that spot inside you over and over and over again, you were seeing stars.

“Don’t stop, please,” another moan left your lips.

“Come for me. Come on my cock. So pretty, so good,” Stiles blabbered.

“Fuck! Stiles!” You keened, tightening around his dick as you came. He kissed you again as his hips stuttered, thrusting a few more times before painting your walls with his cum. His head fell on your chest as you both caught your breath.

When his breathing had slowed, he groaned before lifting himself off you, chuckling as he pecked both your nipples, then your lips before looking for something to clean you with. He settled on the shirt of his lacrosse uniform.

“Ugh, gross,” you mumbled as he wiped you clean. Stiles shrugged. “It was going into the wash, anyway.”

Stiles put his underwear and sweats back on, opening the door and getting out so you could have the space to redress yourself. When you reached under the seat for your bra, you pulled out a baseball bat. “Why do you have a baseball bat in your car?”

“No… Particular reason. Safety. Lots of dangerous animals… out there.”

“So you settled on a bat?” You wondered, holding the object. Stiles nodded, not meeting your eyes, his locked on your still naked chest. You threw the bat at him and laughed, reaching under the seat again and this time pulling out your bra.

When you were finally dressed, you got back in the passenger seat so Stiles could drive you home. It wasn’t a long drive, as you’d already been halfway there before pulling over. He drove up the driveway, and you cringed on the inside, hoping your uncle wouldn’t see who dropped you off. You took your bag and got out of the car, walking around to the drivers’ side where Stiles was already leaning out the window.

You looked at him and gave him a small smile. You leaned forward to give him a kiss goodbye. “You better email me your part of the paper tonight, Stilinski.”

“You bet, babe,” he winked and gave you a salute, watching as you laughed and turned to walk inside the house.

You closed the door and took off your shoes, hanging your coat and leaving your bag by the door. “I’m home!”

Coach took one look at your appearance and frowned. Right… maybe you should’ve straightened yourself out before walking into the living room. Disheveled hair, hickeys on your neck, it wasn’t exactly rocket science as to why you were home later than usual.

“If you’re gonna be having boys over, do it when I’m not around, please? I have enough of them to deal with at practice and in class. And at least have the decency to tell an uncle who he’s dealing with.”

You cringed as the Jeep’s headlights very obviously flashed through the window at that very second, Stiles driving home. It was anything but unrecognizable.

“Stilinski!? You’re sleeping with STILINSKI?! God, kill me now. If I’m now expected to have him over for Christmas dinner you better throw me off a bridge. And you BETTER use protection because I’m NOT gonna have Mini-linski’s running around.”

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hannyoontify · 4 months ago

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[17:26] 'and so she was like 'if you're going to talk shit about someone, at least wait until they're in the elevator, you stupid b-''

mingyu hurriedly pressed a finger to his lips to shush you and tugged you by the sleeve, silently begging you to sit back down. your eyes widened and a group of college students sitting nearby gave you the stank eye as you sheepishly sat back down in your seat.

'sorry, i think i got a little too...'

'i think so too, bubbles. i love spilling tea with you, but maybe lower your voice, yeah? i don't wanna get kicked out and blacklisted from our favorite coffee shop.' mingyu smiled at your shy giggle.

'oops'

'anyway, continue your story, my love'

as you began to excitedly recall the story of how your coworker's girlfriend cut off two toxic people from her life, mingyu intently watched you move your hands animatedly, acting out little gestures from the conversation, and the small changes in your facial expressions.

'it was crazy. in the end, the two assholes had to pay the extra fees for the damage to their hotel room and cassie got away scott free, maybe except for the fistful of hair she's never getting back. i've been praying for her hair follicles every night. the end'

mingyu nodded. 'wow, that's crazy. and what does dylan think of this entire situation?'

you shoved another slice of the blueberry muffin into your mouth and spoke through the crumbs. 'he hates both of those assholes. never liked them from the start. he told me it took them 26 pep talks to convince cassie to confront those poo poo heads. he's glad she finally took the initiative'

your fiance reached over and brushed away a stray crumb in the corner of your mouth. 'and what do you think, sunshine?'

'i like cassie, so good for her! they were actually horrible to her. like they both wore white to her sister's wedding! are they insane? if i was there, i totally would've accidentally 'tripped' and 'spilled' red wine all over their dresses. what a bunch of assholes'

he chuckled. 'and then i would've been your getaway driver, right?'

you smiled at him. 'duh, obviously. you're my ride or die, pookie wookie cookie bear'

mingyu choked on the drink he was drinking and reached for a napkin. 'pookie wookie cookie bear?'

'whatttt it's cute! you're my pookie wookie cookie bear' you giggled and rested your head atop both your hands and gazed at your fiance lovingly. he stared at you back with a slight tilt to his head, his eyes silently asking what was wrong.

'i like talking with you, gyu, you know that?'

mingyu coughed. 'well, i'd hope so, because we're getting married in less than 3 months'

'you match my energy so well. i think we were made for each other' you smiled at him and mingyu's lips started to smile before he slammed his hands down on the table with an urgent look in his eyes.

'oh my god did i tell you about my landlord having a mistress'

'NO. TELL ME RIGHT NOW. OMFG.'

a/n: ib: my bsf and her bf. the three of us went out for lunch today and we were spilling tea and seeing them going back and forth abt diff information they had about the same incident was so cute to see

#hannyoontify.works #seventeen #svt #mingyu #seventeen mingyu #seventeen fic #seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines #seventeen fluff #mingyu oneshot #mingyu seventeen #mingyu fluff #mingyu imagines #kim mingyu

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burreauxsworld · 1 month ago

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Can we get dad Joe where he has five boys all mini him and wife is pregnant with baby girl🌸

This is such a vastly different thing for me to write because I imagine Joe being the biggest girl dad but I’m gonna give it a shot!

~~~

The Burrow household is nothing short of chaos. A controlled chaos though. The kind of chaos that brings a smile to your face as you watch your four rambunctious little boys run around. You and your husband, Joe, have 4 little boys and a little girl on the way.

There’s Jackson and Joseph Jr, the twins and the two oldest at 7 years old. Then there’s Dylan, who’s 5. Lastly, Colby, who’s 3. All of them are carbon copies of your husband. With their big ocean blue eyes and curly dirty blonde hair.

Jackson, like Joe, is big into football. The two of them throw the ball back and forth for hours. Joseph on the other hand, is more of a mama’s boy. Just like his father before him. Whenever you went, little Joey went. Whenever Joe went, Jackson wasn’t far behind. The two little ones, however, could go either way. Sometimes they wanted you, sometimes they wanted Joe. It just depended on the day.

Today, it was the latter. You leaned against the door frame of the sliding glass doors leading to your backyard, watching as your husband and four boys played a game of football. Well, Colby attempted to play, but he mostly just stumbled around the yard messing with whatever random toys he could find.

A smile graced your lips as you watched your husband show his boys how to throw the perfect spiral. You laid a gentle hand on your baby bump, glancing down.

“Be prepared. This is your life” you mumble, looking back up at your boys. “Mama,” Colby babbles, while he stumbles toward you. “Mommy’s home!” Dylan tells, capturing the attention of his brothers and father. “And she brought dinner, because she doesn’t feel like cooking” you tell them, as little arms wrap around your lower half.

“Alright boys, careful. Don’t be too rough” Joe reminds them, planting a kiss on your forehead while the boys ran toward the kitchen table.

“How’s baby Gracie?” He asks with a smile. “Very active today. I think she might be the bengals newest kicker” you joke and he beams with pride. One thing Joe couldn’t wait for, was the arrival of his little girl.

#joe burrow #cincinnati bengals #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow smut

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bulletfragment · 2 months ago

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Random facts about columbine (Repost)

* If Eric could change one thing about himself it would be his weight

* When Dylan was a sophomore, he volunteered at a day care. sue remembers him helping little kids line up neatly to take their turns on the swing

* Eric and Dylan's manager had a six year old daughter who was often there while they worked. She loved them and their manager said they treated her very well.

* When one of eric's neighbours lost her puppy, he looked for it and brought it back to her

* Eric would help his mom garden

* Eric and Dylan went to two rammstein concerts together. they were on december 8th, 1997 and may

* 1st, 1998. KMFDM opened for the first one.

* Dylan used the the Breman Bold font for his wrath shirt. We're unsure what Eric used but it could potentially be Massacre. Dylan picked out his cat, rocky, from a litter of kittens when he was in 3rd grade

* Dylan's favorite baseball player was Roger Clemens

* At blackjack, Eric made $7.65 an hour and Dylan made $6.50 an hour

* Eric had $113 in his wallet at the time of his death

* For his english class, Eric chose these three books to read and write an essay about. Return from the stars was his favorite one.

* According to a Jennifer Harmon, a girl in Eric and Dylan's creative writing class, Dylan would pass out chips ahoy cookies during this class as an attempt to make friends. she said they were "the chewy kind with big chocolate chunks." During the basement tapes, Dylan pumped a shotgun and pointed it at Eric, who was filming, making him scream "jesus christ, put the fucking safety on!"

* During the massacre, Eric and Dylan had match strikers taped to their forearms so they could easily light their bombs. they are visible in this photo from the evidence exhibit. you can also see the tape on Dylan's wrist in the suicide photo.

* Eric and Dylan had other nicknames besides Reb and Vodka. Eric's were indigo, reverend, and war. Dylan's were green and death. After they committed suicide, Eric had 18 9mm bullets and 14 shotguns shells left. Dylan had 3 9mm bullets and 14 shotgun shells left.

* On March 14, 1998, Dylan got a ticket for failing to stop at a red light. He had to go to court for it on april 29. he wrote, "red light court. dam ni**az better not take me license.

* Two months before columbine, Eric's dog was seriously ill. Dylan picked up Eric's shift at blackjack so he could stay home and be with his dog. Sue felt sad for Eric and told Dylan she was proud of him for being such a good friend.

* After the massacre, Kevin harris told friends he blamed himself because he went away to college and wasn't around to help his brother cope with whatever problems he was having.

* The morning after the massacre, Wayne Harris phoned the family dentist. Eric had an appointment on june 30th and he needed to cancel it.

* Eric was not Dylan's first choice for NBK. He originally wanted to do it by himself, with a girl, or with (presumably) Zack Heckler.

* Devon Adams said Sue wore Dylan's jeans after his death. The only person on their shitlists who got shot was

* Austin Eubanks. Austin was friends with Corey Depooter. He died in 2019 due to an opioid addiction.

* When Eric lived in Michigan, his dad was a scout leader and helped coach sports teams. he played basketball in their driveway with Eric and Kevin. His mom helped his 5th grade class make special shirts for halloween. Both his parents always attended the parent-teacher conferences

* A few weeks before the massacre, Dylan was banned from using the school computers because he called a librarian a bitch after she asked him to pay for printing over 10 pages. When told he was banned, he just said, "well, you know, it doesn't matter. it doesn't matter."

* Dylan was friends with Rachel Scott's prom date, Nick Baumgart, between 3-5th and 7-8th grade (Eric was also friends with him 7-8th). In the basement tapes, Eric said he laughed too much and "those two girls sitting next to you probably want you to shut the fuck up too".

* Eric, Dylan, and Zach Heckler also targeted Nick's house during a Rebel Mission on February 7, 1997. Eric described what they did to his house and their reasoning for targeting him in his writings.

* Brandi Tinklenburg, the girl in the Eric In Columbine video, would study in the library every tuesday morning during her lunch hour. The only reason she wasn't there the day of the massacre was because she went to the tanning salon instead.

* The only reason cameras were installed in columbine's cafeteria was to catch students who left trash on the tables.

* Dylan's locker number was 837 and his combo was

* 19-37-9. And Eric's locker number was 624 and his combo was 16-48-30.

* V

* • Eric wrote "anniversary card" in his school planner under april 17, 1998 to remind himself to get his parents a card for their 28th wedding anniversary. When police arrived at Eric's house after the massacre and tried to go in his room, Kathy Harris tried to stop them. she said, "i don't want you to go in there." The officers persisted and she complied.

* Dylan's body was released to Horan & Mccontay funeral home. services were on april 24th, 1999 at 1:30pm.

8-10 people attended.

* Eric's body was released to aspen funeral home. No services were provided. It is unknown if the harris family had a private funeral for Eric or not.

* Eric got surgery to correct his pectus excavatum on December 16th 1993 at Fitzsimons Army Medical Centre in Aurora, co. He wrote, "when i got back from the hospital, i couldn't do anything that involved using my chest muscles. that meant i barely could even laugh."

* Dylan was going to major in computer science at the university of Arizona. Eric was almost positive he didn't want to go to a 4 year college, but he told a friend he might go to a 2 year college and "major in computer graphics or something."

* Eric knew he was rejected by the marines. Nate Dykeman said, "Dylan and I were the first ones Eric told about the rejection. He asked me, 'where do I go from there?' he saw it as a last option."

* Dylan's SAT score was 1210. He got 560 on the verbal part and 650 on the math part, putting him in the 75th percentile.

* During the massacre, eric or dylan (probably dylan) was heard saying, "today is the day the world comes to an end, today is the day we die," in the cafeteria. Eric and Dylan both dated the same girl, Sasha Jacobs.

* She went on 1-2 dates with Dylan and stopped because there was "something strange" about him. Then she went on 16-20 dates with Eric over a period of four months before also breaking up with him. After she broke up with him, Eric wrote in Chad Laughlin's yearbook about her. She also started to receive threats in her email which she suspected were from Eric.

* Eric's favorite magazines were Guns and Ammo, Penthouse, and Time.

* Dylan was born at the lutheran medical center in wheat ridge, co.

* Wayne Harris believed Brooks Brown was out to get Eric and that he was a "manipulative con artist." He wrote

"Eric is not at fault," him and Kathy felt victimized too, and they didn't want to be accused "everytime something supposedly happens."

* Eric scored a 46 on the marine recruitment asval test, which is an average score.

* Starting when he was 8 months old and until he was about 1 and a half years old, Eric went to the doctor at least 11 times due to a congenital leg problem. It wasn't elaborated on in his medical records, but his walk appears to have been bow-legged.

* Wilder Wien by RAMMSTEIN played in the original hitmen for hire during the scenes where Eric and Dylan were walking in their trench coats, but jeffco silenced the music (presumably) because of copyright.

* Mike Vendegnia (the guy in the white shirt in the Eric in columbine video) was friends with Corey Depooter. Mike described Corey as "very bright and easy to get along with."

* Dylan tore off the bmw emblems on the front and back of his car. Zack Rissmiller said he did this, and after the massacre, police found the emblems in his glovebox. • A witness in the cafeteria heard Eric or Dylan yell

"check the window" and "one's coming in" as they were trying to detonate the bombs. They were likely anticipating that cops would enter the school at any second and were as shocked as everyone else was that they weren't coming.

* Eric's phone number was 303-762-1212.

* Dylan's phone number was 303-972-1131.

* Valeen Schnurr was holding hands with Lauren

* Townsend as she passed away.

* Dylan paid between $200 and $300 for his sunglasses.

* During the shooting, librarian Peggy Dodd told Brian Anderson, "i have to get out of here, they hate me, they're going to kill me." a few weeks before the massacre, Dylan called her a bitch when she asked him to pay for using the printer.

* Dylan told a classmate that the reason he wore a soviet pin on his boot was "just to get a reaction out of people.

* When Eric applied to tortilla wraps, he listed his english teacher, Mr. Webb, and Sue Klebold as references.

* One christmas, Sue fretted because Dylan wanted a collectible baseball card that cost as much as she had planned to spend on all his gifts. She worried about only having one gift under the tree. but that's what Dylan wanted, and that's all he got.

* Some of Dylan's favourite foods were scrambled egg, pizza, beef stew, lasagna, pumpkin pie spice cake and Dr Pepper as his favourite drink.

* Before Austin Eubanks left the library, he checked Corey Depooter for a pulse and detected no signs of life. Eric and Dylan threw a total of 31 bombs inside the library, but only 5 of them actually exploded.

* Neither Eric or Dylan wanted to have kids. Eric said, "i don't think i would want to bring a child into this world." Dylan said, "i'm never having kids. kids just mess up your life."

* A total of 76 bombs were found inside and outside columbine high school. Only 30 of those bombs actually exploded.

#tccblr #tcc tumblr #tc community #tee cee cee #teeceecee #tcc columbine #columbine high massacre #columbine school shooting #columbine massacre #columbine 1999 #dylan and eric #eric and dylan #eric columbine #dylan columbine #info.#info post

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joostsblog · 7 months ago

Note

I love love loveee your writing for Joost!!

Could you do a longer one shot, where Joost is playing the reader his album (preferably Fryslân) with Florida 2009, a she comforts him? Would be amazing <3

Leyla, write one fic as it was requested challenge, level impossible 😅 so I altered your request to be about Liverpool bc I didn't think I could do it justice with florida 2009 being such a personal song, I hope you understand ❣️

Liverpool ~ Joost Klein oneshot

My masterlist here ✨💌

Pairing: Joost Klein x female!reader

Description: Your boyfriend Joost shows you his new album and the end of Liverpool holds a little surprise for you which will change your relationship forever.

Word Count: 0.8k

A/N: Here I am still writing something while I said I wouldn't do so on vacation lol ☀️ if you liked it, you can show your support by leaving a reblog 🫶

Warnings: not proofread

"I think I'm ready," Joost stood in the doorway of your shared apartment.

You looked up from your phone and your face lit up as you knew what this meant. Joost was a perfectionist and avoided showing you rough mixes of his songs because he wanted you to experience them as they were intended - perfectly finished. He had only shown you two finished songs from the album he was working on and now he was finally ready to play the album front to back for you.

"Are you sure?" you asked as you got up from the sofa and walked towards him. He nodded and you could tell that he was nervous. "I'm sure it's gonna be amazing," you said and gave a quick kiss on his cheek.

"Don't sing your praises too early," he laughed.

You sat down in his makeshift home studio and he handed you a pair of headphones, putting some on as well. You put your hand on his knee as he was looking up the files on his computer. Just as he was about to press play, he looked at you again.

"I'm not sure I should even look at you," he laughed nervously. You gave his thigh a reassuring squeeze.

"Do whatever feels comfortable to you," you said with a smile. "I'm gonna love it."

Joost nodded took your hand into his and pressed play. Before you closed your eyes to focus on the music you gave a quick peck to Joost's cheek.

As you were listening through the album, you bopped your head along, smiled and noticed all the shy glances Joost was giving you to check for your reaction. You were right, you did love it. As the last song Liverpool slowly came to its end, you could tell that Joost was watching your face very intently now. The song ended with a series of shout-outs to Joost's friends and collaborators, which warmed your heart.

Shouts-out to Tantu Beats

Shout-out to Joost Klein

Shout-out to Dylan meine brudi

Shouts-out Stuntje shouts-out Wim Hof

Shout-out to Jack Parow out in South Africa

Shouts-out to Apson

Shouts-out Nathan Vandergunst

Damn, shouts-out Enzo Knol

Shout-out to (Y/N)

Shout-out you for listening to my album

I fucking love you man

Your heart skipped a beat as you heard your name appear in the song and your eyes immediately began to water.

You and Joost had both agreed pretty early on in your relationship to keep it private. No one knew that Joost was in a committed relationship and especially no one (except for your friends and family) knew that the person he loved was you. It was the right decision at the time because it allowed you to love and live in private without any unwanted attention. But the longer you had been with Joost, the more the both of you had talked about wanting to actually express your love for each other publicly as well. You just didn't expect that Joost was ready for a step like this - putting your name in one of his songs.

As the song finished you both put your headphones down. Your eyes were still welling with tears and your smile was wide.

"I can take it out if you want to," Joost offered hesitantly and you shook your head no immediately.

"No, please keep it," you said and cupped his face with your hands. "I love it," you said before kissing his soft lips which curved into a grin.

It didn't take long for fans to pick up on your name in Liverpool after the album dropped. Fans took to Twitter, TikTok and Tumblr to voice their opinions of the album and also their confusion about that unknown name.

"Who tf is (Y/N)?"

"IKR? I swear I've never heard that name before"

"Maybe she's his manager???"

"I doubt it, why would he thank her last after all of his friends?"

"Wait, let me check something, I think I've seen her Instagram account before!!"

To your surprise, it also didn't take long before fans found your Instagram account with just a few hundred followers just because you appeared on Joost's follow list and he commented on your posts frequently. There were no pictures of the two together on your account but through puzzling together locations and outfits, some fans quickly found out that you spend a lot of time together.

The follows, likes and comments slowly came flooding in and you realised that your relationship wasn't so private anymore. But even the few nasty comments didn't make you regret your decision.

So when a few days passed and the comments persisted ("is she Joost's gf?") you decided to upload a picture to your story.

the cat's out the bag, you captioned a picture of you happily cuddling with a cat in your arms, another hand also visible stroking the cat. A hand with a 1983 tattoo.

#mine #joostsblog #my fics #joost #joost klein #joost x reader #joost klein x reader #joost imagine #joost klein imagine #joost x you #joist klein x you #joost fanfic #joost fanfiction #joost klein fanfic #joost klein fanfiction

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pinkie-quinns · 2 months ago

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rocker eddie/actor steve | exes to ????? (yearners?) | fame au p5

p1 p2 p3 p4 interlude p6

Steve says he's flying out to New York for meetings. That’s what he tells everyone. That’s what he does. He's courteous, even lets Eddie know he’s in the city, that he can maybe, maybe stop by his place later.

But he doesn’t tell Eddie he’s coming to the show.

He gets there late, hangs at the very back of the venue, the nosebleed cheap seats. He’s in uniform, black jeans and scraggled tee. Bit of liner under his eyes, baseball hat and shitty prop wig he stole from set. It should be enough for most people to not look at him twice.

It’s the worst spot he’s ever had at one of Eddie’s gigs, but he couldn’t take the “I’m with the band" seats Eddie had offered him. Like he’s still some kind of accessory. Couldn’t take the c-list celebrity box seats either. Cause, well– he’s not supposed to be here.

Eddie’s a blip on the stage from where Steve’s standing, but it makes his idiotic traitorous heart swoop all the same. He’s only been on tour for a month. Steve wasn’t supposed to miss him this bad.

He’s really not supposed to be here.

Eddie's solo stuff has always been too wordy, too raw. Like he’s Dylan in the body of a metal star. It makes Steve's gut sore.

It’s mostly songs from his latest album, at least. Seemed like Eddie had a bad run in with benzos last year. Which also kinda makes his gut sore.

Eddie plays the hits. It's been years but the ones from "Penitence" cut like fresh wounds. The crowd goes wild for Dead Weight. But Pavlov's got the one-up on Steve. Those first three chords still make him want to crawl out of his skin.

It’s nearing the end now and Eddie drops the band, walks up to the front of the stage with just the spotlight on him. He’s holding Lucky, the old pawn-shop acoustic Wayne got him when he was twelve. He used to strum it between joints in the back of the van.

He’s– he’s nervous.

He coughs into the mic. “Hey uh, um, I've got something special for tonight. I don’t really do covers and uh, especially not ones that–” He cringes, grits his teeth, “Well, this isn’t exactly my sound.”

It was unsettling how nervous he was. Steve could fill journals full all of Eddie’s fuck-ups and flaws (and he has, many, many times.) But performing? That was undeniable, coded into his DNA. Eddie was a great performer. He was never nervous on stage.

Eddie's hands tremor at the tuning keys. “But uh, someone couldn’t make it tonight- a um, well. An old friend.”

Shit.

��–And he really used to really love this one.”

Shit shit shit shit.

“So, uh, yeah. Sing along if you know it.”

Steve knows it. One chord in and he knows it–

It’s Dave fucking Matthews. Eddie hates Dave Matthews. He's the total opposite of anything Eddie considered worthy art. His sound, his look, his ability to fill stadiums with every guy that wears sandals in a 50-mile radius, everything.

More importantly, Eddie’s fans hate Dave Matthews. If they don’t, they keep that close to their chest. Hell, not even– Steve spent enough of his early twenties bopping around dive bars with Eddie's crowds. They'd take that shit to their grave.

Eddie's already on thin ice with most of them.

Steve knows most of them resented the experimental sound of the new album, knows sales are low. He’s heard enough of Eddie's 3 AM pillow talk bitching about it.

There’s multiple audible groans. Someone in front of Steve whispers, “What the actual fuck.” in total disbelief.

But Steve doesn’t register it. Not really. Not over the blood rushing in his ears. Over the sound of Eddie crooning, “Who’s got their claws in you, my friend? Into your heart I’ll beat again."

Truth was, he hadn’t listened to that song, that whole album, in over a decade.

Steve would start up the car, like always and “So Much to Say” would play, like always. But there were no loud puking noises from the passenger seat, no pile of empty, over-dramatic threats. Just dust in the sunlight where someone had loved him, once.

And he couldn't stomach it.

He can't stomach it now. Eddie in front of 13,000 people. Shaky and vulnerable and too-himself for them all to bear witness.

It’s– fuck. Steve’s nineteen and the bimmer’s out of gas and Eddie’s cursing this song out, but his hand is under Steve's sweater and it's warm.

The third verse now and Eddie's crooning about forgiveness, about begging and haste and “Holding you so, boy.”

"Boy". Not "Girl". Unmistakable.

Steve wonders if anyone noticed. Eddie’s not out, not really. But he dedicated a love song to an old friend. Maybe he is now.

Then it’s all too much. Too big for him to hold. The love and hurt and longing and bullshit and near-two decades worth of sludge dredging up his throat and crashing down, pulling him under.

Steve doesn’t wait for the song to end. He keeps his head down and skips out before the encore.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #twitter threads #fanfic #angst #fame au

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allfryam · 5 months ago

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the biggest team in the country

Coach Johnson sighed as he watched his football players practice. Their skinny bodies were struggling to keep up with the rest of the teams in the league. They were constantly getting tossed around the field when playing against a bigger team. Coach knew he had to do something if they wanted any chance of winning this year.

at the end of practice, coach rounded all the boys up and took a knee. “Y’all are clearly havin a tough time when playin against the other teams. I’m putting y’all on a new diet to try to enhance your performance.” The players looked around in confusion. The dining halls on campus have given each of y’all an unlimited food plan.” This got the players excited. “Now I want y’all to use this, alright? So I’m going to require y’all to eat at least 5,000 calories per day. No skipping meals. Any player that fails to meet these conditions will have to deal with a separate punishment.” The players had big grins on their faces. They couldn’t be more excited to eat as much as they wanted in the dining halls.

a month after coach started this experiment, he had each player weighed a week before their first game of the season. Matt G. - 155lbs to 169lbs

Jake R. - 143lbs to 160lbs

Steve B. - 151lbs to 164lbs

Jason K. - 149lbs to 170lbs

Mason L. - 154lbs to 171lbs

Dylan S. - 146lbs to 164lbs

Zach B. - 158lbs to 175lbs

Connor M. - 143lbs to 146lbs

coach was seriously impressed with how quickly his team was growing. All of them except Connor. He had only gained 3 pounds in a month? Coach knew he was going to have to give him the special punishment.

after the weigh ins, coach sent the rest of the team home and pulled Connor aside. “Hey Connor.” Coach sighed. “I’ve noticed you only put on 3 pounds this month. What the hell happened?!” Connor’s face got red. “I… umm…” he stuttered. Coach stopped him and told him to meet him at his house in an hour for his punishment.

Connor showed up to coach Johnson’s house extremely nervous. Coach sat him down in the kitchen and put a big bowl of pasta in front of him. “You ain’t leaving till you finish everything I serve you.” Coach growled. Connor shuddered and started eating the pasta. When he was finished with that, coach placed a large cup full of some kind of smoothie. Connor chugged it and his stomach started to look like it was about to burst. When Connor had finished the drink, coach put the final meal in front of him. It was an entire cake. “But I’m already so… full.” Connor moaned. “THATS TOO DAMN BAD!” Coach yelled. Connor reluctantly began eating the cake and about halfway through he started to cry. “WHAT THE HELL YOU CRYIN FOR BOY?! I GAVE YOU UNLIMITED FOOD AND ALL YOU COULD DO WAS GAIN THREE POUNDS?!” Connor cried his way through the rest of the cake until his stomach looked like it was about to explode. Coach sent Connor home and went to bed proud.

By the time the first game came around, Connor had gained a few more pounds because he was terrified of having to go back to coachs house. The boys did better than they ever have. They were becoming heavy enough to rival with the other teams. But it wasn’t enough. They still lost because the lighter teammates were still getting thrown around. Coach knew he had to speed this process up.

at practices he banned the boys from most cardio and stocked the locker room with lots of snacks. Coach continued taking the lightest player to his house to stuff them full of fattening food. Once the boys found out how bad the punishment was, it motivated them even more to be bigger than their teammates. Their uniforms began growing tight around their expanding bellies and thighs. Before the second game, coach took their weights again:

Matt G. - 169lbs to 183lbs

Jake R. - 160lbs to 179lbs

Steve B. - 164lbs to 185lbs

Jason K. - 170lbs to 190lbs

Mason L. - 171lbs to 178lbs

Dylan S. - 164lbs to 187lbs

Zach B. - 175lbs to 203lbs

Connor M. - 146lbs to 180lbs

coach was astonished. His team had really stepped it up, especially Zach, he was over 200lbs now! But looking closely, there was a clear outlier. Mason was the lightest on the team, which meant he was going to get coach’s special punishment.

Mason arrived with an appetite after Connor told him what happened. Coach started with an entire pizza. Mason gulped it down and unbuttoned his jeans to make more room. Coach gave him a carton of ice cream to eat next. As Mason ate, coach noticed his tight shirt start to rise due to his expanding gut. Mason had to take it off because it became so uncomfortable. Towards the end of the carton, Mason decided to drink the melted ice cream left at the bottom. Coach watched as he chugged the creamy liquid spilling a few drops onto his round stomach. Mason set the empty container down and leaned back in his chair. He rubbed his bloated belly and groaned. But coach wasn’t done. He gave Mason a Big Mac as his last meal. Mason could barely think as he slowly shoved the Big Mac into his mouth. His eyes were glazed over and his stomach was screaming in pain. He eventually finished and coach sent him on his way, knowing he learned his lesson.

The second game had finally rolled around and they actually won! The boys were becoming big enough to hold their own on the field. Even though they won, coach still wasn’t satisfied. The team they beat was still one of the smaller ones and some of the lighter boys were still struggling. Coach treated them to a buffet for their victory and made sure they all ate well.

the team continued winning against bigger and bigger teams and coach continued treating them to trips to the buffet. They were a month away from the championship and coach knew they were going to have to get a lot bigger if they wanted to win. He decided to weigh them again so he would have a month to get them as big as possible for the championship.

Matt G. - 183lbs to 218lbs

Jake R. - 179lbs to 208lbs

Steve B. - 185lbs to 230lbs

Jason K. - 190lbs to 236lbs

Mason L. - 178lbs to 227lbs

Dylan S. - 187lbs to 217lbs

Zach B. - 203lbs to 257lbs

Connor M. - 180lbs to 234lbs

coach liked the results he was seeing, especially with Zach, he was easily the heaviest on the team, and he put on weight like it was nothing. But once again, coach also noticed the lightest player, Jake.

Jake knew what he was in for when he arrived at coachs house. He sat at the table ready to eat the insane amount of food coach was about to feed him. Coach started with waffles. A stack of about 15 thick waffles dripping with butter and syrup. Jake tore through them one by one, not caring about the syrup dripping from his mouth onto his rounded belly. Coach brought out a cheesecake next, and Jake took off his tight shirt to make more room. He scarfed down the delicious food, moaning with pleasure. Coach was surprised. Nobody on the team ate as fast as Jake, and they definitely didn’t enjoy it as much as he was. When the cheesecake was gone, coach brought out the final meal, his homemade lasagna. Jake grinned as he began to eat it. Lasagna was his absolute favorite, and coach made a mean lasagna. Coach watched with awe as Jake’s belly grew and grew. Soon enough, the entire tray of lasagna was gone and Jake just let out a big burp and rubbed his bloated gut. “What else ya got coach? I still have some room for more.” Jake said between burps. Coach was stunned. There was no way this boy could still eat after all that food. Coach found a pie left in his fridge and watched Jake quickly get to work. Before coach knew it, the pie was gone and Jake was headed home with his bloated belly leading the way.

in the month leading up to the championship, coach Johnson was doing everything he could to keep his team growing. He mixed mass gainer into their water, treated them to the buffet after every practice, got the school to supply them electric scooters so they wouldn’t waste their energy walking to class, convinced the chefs at the dining hall to give the boys extra food when they ordered, bought snacks to supply their dorms for when the dining halls were closed, and finally bought them bigger uniforms so they had plenty of room to grow. He would constantly call them small and weak, and do his “punishment” with the lightest player every single night.

the night before the championship, coach weighed the players one last time.

Matt G. - 218lbs to 262lbs

Jake R. - 208lbs to 270lbs

Steve B. - 230lbs to 281lbs

Jason K. - 236lbs to 288lbs

Mason L. - 227lbs to 274lbs

Dylan S. - 217lbs to 264lbs

Zach B. - 257lbs to 312lbs

Connor M. - 234lbs to 290lbs

coach was proud. They had all ballooned in the last month with coach’s help. Their round bellies, thick thighs, massive arms, and broad shoulders made them quite the force to be reckoned with.

the day of the game, the team played great. They slammed the other team to the ground with their immense weight. Especially Zach. He had grown to over 300 pounds, and not a single person on the other team could move him. Their smallest player, Matt, (who wasn’t small at all) was the fastest. Zach would push through the team and pass the ball to Matt who would run straight to the end zone and score. Coach and the team celebrated their victory with one last trip to the buffet. Their massive bodies took up the entire booth, and all of their food covered the entire table. They never had leftovers though, if one boy got full, another player would volunteer and eat the rest. The boys cleared the table and revealed their massive new guts.

coach stood up and tapped his glass with a fork to make a toast. “Yall listen up. I’m so proud of yall for stickin with it this season and followin my orders. I know it wasn’t always easy to keep up… but some of you did that and then some. So I wanted to hand out a few awards.” Coach reached into his bag and pulled out a miniature trophy. It read, “most weight gained - Zach B.” The boys cheered and Zach claimed his trophy. The rest of the trophies included:

most “punishments” - Connor M.

biggest appetite - Jake R.

roundest belly - Dylan S.

biggest comeback - Connor M.

coach had created 8 big, heavy, and hungry football players, and he was excited to meet the new freshmen next year to see if they would do as well. ~

I’ve always really liked the idea of a coach fattening up his players. I’ll probably do a part 2 if you guys want it. I already have some ideas on how coach plans on fattening up the new freshmen. Anyways, love you guys! And remember you can always message me with story ideas or a picture you want me to write a story about and I’ll do it completely free.

#fat #fat belly #fatty #gaining fat #chubby #fat gut #fatty piggy #gaining #gaining weight #getting bigger #ex jock #exjock #belly expansion #college weight gain

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trevuorzegras · 3 months ago

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━╋ BETTING, PART THREE

summary: in which y/n y/l/n falls for the wrong guy, who turns out to have just bet on her. 3/4

mark estapa makes a bet that y/n will fall for him, for a great price of $100 from his friend, adam fantilli.

stranger to lover to enemies to lovers.

pairings: mark estapa x fem!reader

prev part

next part

her.

Y/N found her talking to a few people from the cheer team that she recognized. She was never much of a talker, the pressure of skating taking up most of her time. Tonight she decided to change that by putting herself out there. Well to someone who wasn’t Dylan. Before Y/N, and Dylan had become friends, the girl never really had time for friends. Skating was the only thing the girl thought about, and nowadays her mind seems to be thinking about anything but. Maybe it was because she knew she’d be out the rest of the season, she didn’t know.

Y/N’s thoughts were quickly interrupted by the sound of Dylan calling her name. She turned her head, and met his gaze. A smile overtook her features as soon as their eyes met. Dylan’s face softened as he gained the girl’s attention, “You ready?” Y/N nodding, a little too quickly, causing the boy in front of her to let out a low chuckle.

Dylan found his friends rather quickly telling them he was ready to go. A few decided to stay for a while, but a few decided to accompany Dylan, and Y/N. Y/N followed Dylan to the front of the house Mark, Rutger, Adam, Luca, and Ethan not too far behind her. She glanced back occasionally to make sure they were still following her, not wanting to lose Dylan’s friends.

Once the group finally reached the front yard, Dylan spoke once more, “We live like half a mile that way, you good with walking, Sunny?” Y/N eyes followed where Dylan had pointed to their left, before she shrugged, “Sure, i don’t have anything to sleep in though.”

It wasn’t uncommon for Y/N to stay at the hockey house with Dylan, however when she did no one was ever home. She never cared for meeting knew people, and Dylan respected that, so he made sure the guys were out the house when Y/N stayed. She was grateful he didn’t force her to meet the team, the two had some sort of silent agreement about it.

Dylan thinks for a moment, before Mark speaks up, “I think i have a pair of sweatpants that’ll fit you.” Y/N turned towards the taller boy, and unreadable expression on her face. “You sure?” Mark shrugged, “Doesn’t matter to me. I can’t lend you a shirt, can’t guarantee it’ll fit ‘ya though.” Y/N chuckled softly, before nodding. Dylan looked towards Mark with a look of confusion. However he is quick to put a smile on his face, as Y/N looks at him.

It didn’t take long before the group made it back to the hockey house. Mark’s first in the house, making his way to his room to retrieve the sweatpants, and t-shirt. Y/N accepts them grateful, muttering a quick thank you to the Estapa boy.

Y/N changes into the oversized clothing, rolling the sweatpants over a few times to keep them around her waist. She makes no complaints as she makes her way back downstairs.

When she finally reaches the first floor, Dylan is waiting on her, a pair of sweatpants hung on his waist as well, “You tired?” The girl nods, to which Dylan says his farewells to his friends, before turning back towards Y/N. “Come on, Sunny. Let go to sleep.” The girl was quick to follow him upstairs, waving slightly to the boys in the living room.

Over the next few months, Y/N had gotten a lot closer to the guys of the hockey team. More specifically Y/N had gotten closer to Mark Estapa. The two had even hung out without everyone else.

Dylan was well aware of what was going on. He knew it was wrong to allow Mark to do that to Y/N, but he knew deep down he had no choice. Y/N was her own person, and had the right to make her own decisions. Dylan had accepted that he wouldn’t be able to tell Y/N about what Mark had planned, because ultimately he didn’t even know if Mark accept the bet from Adam.

Y/N, and Mark continued to get closer as the days went by, and eventually he asked her on a date. She agreed rather quickly, as she had grown very fond of the older boy.

The date went extremely well for the two of them, and they both agreed to go on another. To which they did. And another. As of now, Y/N wasn’t sure how she was feeling. On one hand, she wants something with Mark, on the other hand what happens when she starts skating again? She wouldn’t have time for a boyfriend when she’s skating again.

Her coach had always advised her to not get into a relationship. It was a distraction. That’s what she was always told. It was nailed into her head, but she wanted this so bad. So she went to Dylan.

“Just wait it out, Sunny. If i know anything about Mark, he’ll tell you if he’s interested.”

So that’s what she did. She took Dylan’s word for it. However she didn’t see much progress in whatever was going on with them, until the end of school began rolling around.

Mark had pulled her aside during a group hang out, and had invited her to spend the summer at the famous ‘Hughes Lake House.’ She agreed to join the group, despite her being extremely nervous to meet more of Dylan’s friends.

The school year came, and went. Y/N shipped all the clothing that she wouldn’t need back to Florida with her mom, explaining that she’d return before the summers end to spend time with her, and retrieve her clothes for the next school year.

The group had previously planned to return to their homes, before making their way to the lake house in a week or two, but eventually decided it’d be easier to go straight to the lake house.

So that’s where Y/N found herself. Squished between the two hockey players that were Mark, and Dylan. To say she was nervous was an understatement. It had taken her a while to even make friends with the team, and now she was expected to meet even more people.

Dylan, and Mark reassured her the entire drive to the lake house, but it didn’t help her nerves much. Eventually the group made it to the famous Hughes Lake house. Y/N had heard so many stories about this place, however she never saw herself being there.

Y/N was introduced to the group quickly, and just as quickly they welcomed the girl with open arms. Even with the reassurance of Mark, and Dylan she was still extremely skeptical. She stayed attached to Dylan’s side, not wanting to bother Mark anymore than she already had.

Dylan hadn’t really minded Y/N clinging to his side, he had missed his friend being his friend. As much as Dylan loved his friends, and teammates a lot of their friendgroups seemed to blend into one another. The group hardly had friends of their own, that they didn’t share with the rest of the team.

He hadn’t minded Y/N becoming friends with everyone, because at the end of the day he introduced them. However it was nice when Dylan did get to see Y/N on their own.

As Y/N clung to Dylan’s side, he had a soft smile planted on his face, occasionally checking up on the girl. She had promised she was okay, giving the boy a reassuring smile.

As time at the lake house had passed, Y/N found herself getting more comfortable around the people that littered the house. She even found herself chatting with a few of them more often than not.

The younger girl, only being Twenty years old, found herself drawn to the eldest Hughes brother. Y/N grew up as an only child, and rarely had anyone in her life to fill the roll of an older sibling. Dylan Duke had been one of the only people who’d she consider a brother.

Then when she arrived at the lake house, Quinn could instantly read her nervous expression. He didn’t immediately speak to the girl, however about three days after her initial arrival, he spoke to her.

“You okay?” Y/N had woken up before anyone else, deciding to go out onto the dock, and enjoy the sunrise. At the voice she glanced up to find the Eldest Hughes brother stood in basketball shorts, and a Canucks hoodie.

The girl nods, clearing her throat, not really expecting anyone else to be awake at this hour. “Yeah i’m good, how are you?”

Quinn takes a seat beside her, far enough back to not get his feet in the water, but close enough that he could read the her expression. “I’m good. Whatchu doing up so early?”

Eventually the two of them fell into a natural rhythm of conversation. Y/N speaking her mind about being nervous around so many new people, and Quinn expressing he use to be the same way. The two bonded over their mutual feelings about social interactions.

The two sat on the dock of the lake house for two hours just talking about whatever came to mind, before the two realized just how long they had been outside. Quinn was the first to point it out, resulting in the two of them walking back to the house.

Since then, Y/N has learned that Quinn will be there for her when she needs someone to lean on, despite not knowing him more than a few days. Quinn also realized that he has someone who has very similar traits as him, that he can now lean on.

him.

Time flew by faster than Y/N had ever expected it to. Before the she knew it, it was the day before she was supposed to leave to return to Florida. She was sad having to leave such a beautiful place, but she did miss her mom.

Everyone knew they wanted to make the most out of the last full day that they had at the lake house, so when Jack suggested a boat day, everyone was in.

As Y/N was in the kitchen finishing up getting the cooler ready, Mark walked in with his towel in hand, “You ready, Sunny?”

She turned around at the use of her nickname, smiling as she makes eye contact with Mark, “No, i still need to get a few waters. You can go ahead, and head down to the dock i’ll be there in just a minute.”

Mark nodded as Y/N turned back around to finish packing the cooler. He made his way down to the dock, where everyone had already started loading the boat.

“When are you going to tell her, Stop Sign?”

Mark turns towards the voice, and he’s met with the younger Fantilli brother, causing him to let out a low grown. Quinn looks at the two of them from his spot on the boat confused, “Tell who what?”

Adam clears his throat, looking towards Mark, who just shrugs it off, “Nothing.”

Quinn glares at Mark, his eyes narrowing at the dirty blonde. He goes to turn back to what he was doing, when Adam decided to speak up, “Mark, and i have a bet going.”

The words ‘bet’ peak Quinn’s interest, as well as a few others who were just stood around, “And what’s that?”

“I bet Mark a hundred bucks that he couldn’t make Y/N fall for him, and from what i seen, i’m about to be out of a hundred bu-” Adam’s words are cut off by a shove from Ethan, who’s stood next to him. He gives his teammate a confused look, causing Ethan to point behind Mark.

Mark turns around, his eyes meeting Y/N’s that have now began filling up with tears. Mark’s face drops as he’s met with the gut wrenching sight of her face filled with tears.

Quinn hurries off the boat, and rushes towards Y/N just as she takes off back towards the house. Mark goes to call out for her, but is quickly cut off by Dylan who follows after Quinn, “Don’t.”

her.

As Y/N makes it inside, she immediately goes to her, and Mark’s shared bedroom. She hears Quinn call her name, as she begins packing up her belongings. The door is opened, and in walks Quinn, and Dylan. The two stare at the girl with saddened expressions on their faces, “Oh Sunshine..”

Y/N looks over towards Dylan as he spoke softly to the girl. She shook her head, wiping her nose, “I’m going home.”

Quinn walks closer to her bringing his hand to her cheek to wipe the tear that had escaped, “If that’s what you want.”

next part

check out my college hockey masterlist, here!

im back! actually motivated to write, so i’ll be getting as much done as i can, before the writing slump begins again (not proof read, sorry for any mistakes!)

taglist | @wnderify @bunbunbl0gs

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hhughes · 3 months ago

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♡ 𝆬 𝐈𝐍 𝐀 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐂𝐎𝐃𝐈𝐋𝐄

𝓹airing , violet kingston x luke hughes

in which luke’s day automatically gets better whenever he spots his best friend in the cafeteria. (wc ; 1.6K )

꒰ 𝓷ote , they’re back! our fav duo returns with a few minor differences. this is very introductory to them. so kind of not boring, but not major to the plot line yet either. but I’ve missed them. I hope you enjoy as always and spam the inbox with luke and vi thoughts now that they’re back <3 . . . ꒱

There were few things that gave Luke those excited flutters in the pit of his stomach. That short moment right before he stepped onto the ice, wakeboarding on the lake in the summer, and whenever he laid eyes on violet kingston.

It was as if his body had a secret ability to notice whenever she stepped into a room. As if a piece of him was missing and walking out and about in the world, and whenever that piece entered his vicinity his body became hyper aware, wanting to be close to her, attracting them to each other like magnets. And whenever he laid eyes on her, those excited flutters in his belly morphed into full blown somersaults.

Somersaults that were currently present as he watched her walk into the cafeteria, straight past his table where his group of obnoxiously loud hockey friends, including his older brother, were sitting, and make her way to the growing line of students waiting to buy lunch. Luke didn’t even wait two minutes before he was getting up from his seat with the intention of following her.

“uh - I’ll be right back,” he announces to the group, the only person really paying attention being his best friend Dylan since Jack and his rowdy group of friends were too busy discussing how Trevor and his current girlfriend broke up, again. His tall, lanky frame suddenly jumping up must’ve caught their attention though because just as he was making a move to leave, a familiar voice called out.

“Moose, don’t know where you’re going, but do you mind grabbing me a fork on the way back?” Trevor asks, with an overdramatic pout, and like with everything Trevor does, it makes Luke slightly annoyed.

“Sure,” he agrees easily, just to get out of there as soon as possible and not attract any attention. Or any more attention, he should say. Luke was grateful that he entered high school and had his older brother to rely on to make the transition as smooth as possible. But there were times that Luke wished him and Jack didn’t go to the same school. That they didn’t run in the same circles. That he was just Luke and not Luke, Jack’s little brother.

Don’t get him wrong, Luke loves his brothers. Both of them are genuinely his best friends, but being seen with Jack in the hallways, or in the cafeteria, or even in the parking lot before school, attracted a lot of attention to him. And while Jack, Trevor, Alex and Cole seemed to thrive under that sort of attention, Luke wasn’t used to it and didn’t want to be.

“You’re better off getting your own fork Z, he’s not coming back any time soon,” Jack comments with a knowing grin but Luke ignores the comment and scans the cafeteria line, looking for his girl.

He’s known violet practically his entire life. Their mom’s are best friends, they played hockey together in their college days and remained in touch in the years after. The Kingston and Hughes families often spent summers together, which was where Luke saw Violet the most when they were kids, but it wasn’t really until their family moved to Michigan that they grew as close as they are now.

All three Hughes brothers are quite fond of the entire Kingston family as a whole. Her mom was the head athletic trainer for the ndtp, and her dad was one of the best agents in the league who represented some of the best players and will undoubtedly represent all three Hughes brothers at one point. Her younger brother is on the road to playing exactly where Jack and Luke are now. They were as much a hockey family as the Hughes’, which of course bonded them all even more.

When he spots her again, he immediately starts moving, heart beating faster and faster the closer he gets. He takes a moment to observe her, from her white tennis shoes and skirt, to her blue cropped tee with the school logo on it, and the matching blue ribbon in her curly hair.

“game day?” is his form of greeting as he stands next to her, and he has to bite his cheek to stop from smiling as she immediately turns at the sound of his voice, eyes having that little spark they always do and a matching dimple on each cheek as she grins up at him.

“Hey bub,” she says a little breathlessly, using that ridiculous nickname that makes his cheeks redden a little and luke somehow doesn’t mind when it falls from her lips, as she steps closer to him and luke relishes in the way her body leans into his as his hand goes to rest on the familiar spot on her lower back.

“Hi sweet girl,” he greets back, brushing his lips against her temple and briefly breathing in her familiar strawberry scent. “I’m not cutting in line by the way, just keeping this one company while she waits,” luke explains to the girl in line behind them and she sends him a very overexaggerated, sugar-sweet smile.

“You can cut in front of me any day little hughes,” the girl responds and luke sends her a tight lipped smile, pushing violet slightly to move forward when she gives the girl a strange look.

“It’s game day?” luke asks again, when he realises she didn’t answer the first time, hoping to distract her and smooth that adorable frown that was currently between her brows.

“Yeah, first home football game of the season. And the first cheer event,” she adds and luke can tell she was a bit nervous about the latter. As long as luke has known her, violet has been a dancer. It was her equivalent of hockey. And since the school didn’t have a dance team, only dance classes, luke encouraged violet to join the cheer team when she brought up that she wanted to be involved in an extra curricular at the school. She’s been his little cheerleader his entire life, and she was a phenomenal dancer so Luke had no doubts that she would make the team, and she did.

“You’re gonna do great,” luke says, rubbing soothing circles on her waist on the exposed skin between her skirt and shirt and before she can reply they’re at the front of the line and violet is grabbing her food. She send Luke a mock little glare as he pays for her chicken wrap before she gets the chance to, but as they make their way back in the direction of luke’s table, she presses a little kiss to his bicep that he knows is a thank you.

“You’re coming to the game right?” she asks, when they stop a few feet away from jack and the other guys, who were all watching this interaction take place.

“Yeah, these idiots will probably drag me to it,” luke responds, loud enough for them to hear, causing someone to throw a napkin his way, that he catches mid air, and his lips tip up into a smile when it results in violet releasing a small laugh.

“Okay, I’ll just see you tonight then. We’re coming over for dinner, so I’ll probably get a ride home with you and jack after the game?” violet asks

“Yeah for sure. Is Dax going?” Luke asks

“I’m not sure,” she answers, biting her lip in thought, luke’s thumb pulling it from beneath her teeth.

“I’ll text and ask. I don’t mind looking after him if he wants to come with,” luke says, and violet feels her heart expand ten sizes that he’s thinking about her little brother.

“Thank you,” she tells him, grabbing and squeezing his hand and he pulls her into a quick hug, pressing a brief kiss to the top of her head before letting go and reluctantly stepping away.

“I’ll see you tonight,” luke promises

“Oh luke, one more favour before you go?” she asks him, and he immediately nods without even asking what it is

“Can I borrow your hoodie? I have a run through in the gym during the second half of lunch and I forgot my jacket. You know how cold it gets in there,” she explains and luke frowns slightly at the idea of violet cold and uncomfortable.

“Yeah, it’s in my locker though. Let me go grab it for you,” he offers, but she stops him with a gentle hand on his chest.

“No worries, I’m going that way anyway so I’ll just grab it. I know the combination. Thank you again,” she says, standing on her tiptoes to brush a light kiss on what is supposed to be his cheek but ends up on his jaw.

“see ya later, alligator,” he says, grinning like an idiot when she giggles as she walks away and answers “in a while crocodile”

The smile quickly disappears when he turns and finds the entire table still staring at him, all of them with teasing smiles and shit eating grins on their faces.

“Don’t even start,” luke warns them, but none of them heed his warning, all of them starting to tease him simultaneously.

“You forgot my fork luke,” trevor points out, and luke sends him a grateful look as he’s given a chance to escape. For once he’s feeling grateful for words coming out of Trevor’s mouth but that doesn’t last long either as Trevor says “see ya later alligator,” and jack answers “in a while crocodile” in a mocking, high pitched voice, both of them laughing afterwards.

Luke was still going to grab his fork, but whether that for was gonna be used for eating, or to stab eyeballs was still to be determined. . .

#꒰ ❛ 𝐈𝐍 𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐍 ❜ ꒱#luke hughes fluff #luke hughes blurb

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sssilverstoned · 11 months ago

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couples quiz ꩜ ln4

type: transcription from a youtube video

The GQ couples quiz goes precisely how you both, and your PR teams, expect it to

lily said: i just love world building (even if im not the best at it) so i can't ever leave a concept or pairing alone, so it goes!

part 1 part 2 part 3 2.5ish interlude

Y/N: Why do I feel like I left the oven on in the kitchen?

Lando: Well, because you did. I turned it off on our way out, don't worry about it.

y/n turns to the camera with a bright smile, and lando smiles at the sight of her own.

Y/N: My hero, everyone!

Y/N: And um, I guess we're getting started now? So hi, I'm Y/N L/N, a model and creative director currently based out of Europe.

Lando: And I'm Lando Norris, a driver for McLaren Racing's Formula 1 Team, and this is the GQ couples quiz. And if I may add, I absolutely think I'm going to win.

Y/N: I'm not even dignifying that with banter.

lando turns to the camera, an eyebrow raised.

Lando: Fun fact: Y/N's quite genuinely the most competitive person I've met in my entire life.

y/n's jaw drops with a scoff.

Y/N: No shot! You race for a living, for crying out loud.

Lando: Trust me, Love, you take the cake.

y/n rolls her eyes with no charge, a smile still on both of their faces and small looks exchanged between the two of them,

Y/N: Alright, you first. What's my favorite color?

Lando: (your favorite color), easy. it's the color of your phone case right now too.

Y/N: Yup. What's my favorite place I've traveled?

Lando: You loved Venice, no?

y/n winces, weighing her hands back and forth.

Y/N: I did, but that's not my favorite. In my whole life, I'd say,

Both: Jamaica!

they laugh at their unison.

Lando: And I knew that, I knew that! Because of your grandparents.

y/n nods fondly, giggling at how lando beats himself up about getting one wrong.

Y/N: Alright, what am I most scared of?

Lando: You're petrified of spiders.

y/n gags, and shudders.

Y/N: Don't even get me started.

lando turns to the camera with a faux look of exhaustion.

Lando: This girl refused to go into our bedroom for 3 hours once when I was out because there was a spider on the vanity.

Y/N: Whatever. Where did I go to school?

Lando: Switzerland and New York, very posh.

Y/N: You're calling me posh?

Lando: Can't the pot and the kettle both be black?

a producer bursts out in laughter in the background, making the couple do the same. there's a fondness in both their eyes as they double over in laughter.

Y/N: Okay, okay, almost done. What food do I love and hate?

Lando: You hate mushrooms, and for some reason, you really don't like salmon. As for what you do like, you get stir-fry and noodles a lot, but only from specific places. And you love tomato soup, that's the number one.

Y/N: Right again, nice baby! You make a good one now, by the way.

he winks at her.

Y/N: Who is my celebrity crush?

lando scoffs.

Lando: Dylan O'Brien.

Y/N: Forever and ever. My birthday?

Lando: March 10th, a spicy pisces, as you say.

Y/N: Hey, Olivia Rodrigo herself called me that.

Lando: And what about Scorpios?

Y/N: Nope, not your turn yet, I've got one last question.

lando takes a dramatic breath.

Lando: Alright, hit me with it.

Y/N: Where did we go on our first date?

a big smile grows on lando's face.

Lando: We went to a music show one of our friends recommended, and we both thought it was awful but didn't say anything because we didn't want to leave and have the date be over, so we listened to the most shit jazz music for an hour and a half just to be around each other.

Y/N: Best result from the worst music I've ever heard.

Lando: Ditto. Now, hand me the cards, yeah? I'm about to stump you so good.

the camera transitions to y/n now in the hotseat answering questions, lando teasingly taking his job very seriously with the question cards.

Lando: Alright. Where am I from?

Y/N: Bristol, thought you said you'd stump me?

Lando: This is literally question 1?

lando turns to the producers.

Lando: You see what I mean? Ferocious.

Lando: Moving on, what is our favorite show to watch together?

Y/N: We're rewatching Prison Break, so I'd say that?

Lando: I'll give you that one. Ugh, what was I wearing when we first met? Fucks sake, can we skip this one?

y/n sputters over him.

Y/N: Absolutely not, we're not skipping over this!

Lando: Oh come on, Love-

Y/N: I swear to you, the very first time I met Lando, he came to my 18th birthday party in a full on basketball kit!

Lando: I was told it was "Space Jam" themed!

Y/N: As in dress like you're in space, you fool! Not the Michael Jordan and Bugs Bunny movie!

Lando: Needless to say, I was mortified. Seems like she still thought I was cute though, no?

another wink is sent to the camera.

Lando: What's your biggest pet peeve about me?

Y/N: You spoil everything. I can't ever watch a show or a movie without you walking in and going, "Oh, this is the episode before he dies." Like? Who does that?

Lando: Yeah, ah, guilty. Working on it. Eh, not really. What's my nickname for you?

Y/N: Cradle robber.

another producer reacts to this. a sputtering shock of laugh. "you call her WHAT?"

Y/N: We're the same age, mind you.

Lando: Wrong, you've been alive 8 months longer than me on this planet! 3/4 of a year, mind you. But I've got real nicknames for you.

Y/N: Yeah, you do. You call me Love, more than you say my name, so it always feels odd when you do say it.

lando doesn't respond with his voice, but the fond look in his eyes and nod at her answer.

Lando: What irritates me the most?

Y/N: About me? Or, like, in life?

Lando: Life, nothing irritates me about you.

Y/N: Oh, please. But, in life, you're pretty irritable when it comes to selfish people. You've always been like that, though, very compassionate and not a fan of people who aren't.

Lando: Very true, never thought of it like that, I guess. Just don't be an asshole, you know?

Y/N: See? Irritated.

Lando: Anyway. We're on our last question, so I guess you've won because it's not a point question.

Y/N: I won't rub this one in your face, just because you've been a great interviewer.

he gives her a gracious nod, and y/n rolls her eyes.

Lando: You'll never ever know how grateful I am. Final Question, what's something that you weren't expecting about me that you love about me?

Y/N: Oh goodness, are you wanting me to cry? Well, I think something that was initially a hard adjustment was the intensity of your racing schedule, and doing long distance sometimes. We don't really see each other sometimes, but when we do, you always sleep in. And at first it was really annoying to me, because we only have like, 3 days together, wake up! Let's do something! But once you told me that you let yourself sleep in on those days because it's a time to just, be, and we can do it together. So I guess my answer is, I wasn't expecting to love how much you love little moments. You've taught me to be grateful for things we take for granted, and I don't know, I think it's helped me through a lot.

lando stays still for a bit, an adoring look on his face as his eyes swell with what we think were happy tears. we're hoping so, at least.

Lando: I can't wait to marry you one day.

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 social media au #lando norris imagine #lando norris x reader #f1 instagram au #social media au

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urhoneycombwitch · 1 year ago

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blurb based on this anon everyone say thank you anon <3 cw: 18+

___

On the fourth night in a row of you sleeping like shit, Eddie takes matters into his own hands.

He makes it his private quest- Operation Fair Maiden’s Slumber- to get you to sleep and stay asleep. Unbeknownst to you, he’d started earlier that afternoon, casually handing you a mug of chamomile tea along with your paperback. You both stay curled up on the trailer’s couch with your respective books for awhile, your legs in his lap, his warm palm stroking up your thigh, until the sun dipped low enough to warrant turning on all the lamps in the room.

He makes you a proper, robust dinner- pasta and garlic bread, a carb-o-load for the ages to try and lull your stomach into hibernation. When the dishes are done, he asks if he can play you a song.

You get cozy in Eddie’s bed, blanket around your shoulders, while he sits cross-legged on the floor, plucking through the strings to tune. And when you’re settled, he starts playing- first it’s an old Fleetwood Mac song that he knows is your favorite, followed by a Bob Dylan single that he’s always found kinda hokey but he likes the way you close your eyes with the feeling of it.

All the while he keeps his singing soft, the melodies gentle, glancing up every so often to confirm you’re nestling deeper into the blankets. When he thinks you might’ve drifted off, he stealthily sets his guitar aside and climbs carefully onto the bed- only to startle when your eyes pop open, seemingly wide awake.

“Those were really nice songs,” you tell him, wrapping the blanket around you both so that he can lay across your body. “Thanks for giving me my own concert. I’m so lucky.”

“You deserve it, angel,” he says into your collarbone. As your arms wrap around his frame he slips his hands under your shoulders, cuddling into the warmth of you. “You want a bedtime story, too?”

When you nod, Eddie launches into a memorized monologue of the first chapter of Alice in Wonderland. It was one of your favorite books as a kid, so he’s hoping that the kick of nostalgia will be enough to send you off to dreamland.

And at first, he thinks it’s working- the small movements in your waist and shoulders he takes as a sign of your body settling into the mattress. But when the plush of your hip rolls against his crotch, he stops mid-sentence, affronted- “Baby... You’re supposed to be sleepy, not horny!”

“I can be both,” you pout, pulling Eddie towards you so that he’s forced to hover over you, his hair creating a curtain around your faces. “You’re just so handsome and sweet and I wanna thank you for your hard work…”

Your hand trails down his chest, against his stomach, and Eddie’s quickly losing the plot to his quest as you graze against his already half-hard clothed cock.

“You’re s’posed to…” his forehead dips to crush against yours, hips rolling into your hand automatically. “Tryn’a get you… to sleep…”

“An orgasm would help.” You stretch up to press your lips against his, and he kisses you back, a little whimper in your throat swallowed up by his mouth.

Eddie doesn’t totally abandon his quest, in the end. It just gets re-titled:

Operation Give the Fair Maiden One Two Three Orgasms. For Bedtime.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #e.m. thots from lu #eddie munson blurb

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almostempty · 2 months ago

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What’s Love Got to Do with It

(oberyn x f!reader) wc: 4.6k | other fics

note: hey y’all it’s me ya gurl, here to defile another prompt with a silly idea <3 Sooo, from the three brain cells that brought you fuckboy!joel and divorced dad rock dilf!joel 🫡i now humbly present …. Frat bro Oberyn, Aka The Red Viper, aka the Prince of Pong, aka the Slut of Delta Psi (i did steal the frat name from the film Neighbors—in which they do sing a line from Creed in their frat chant, so in some twisted way, they’re kind of all connected right??)

I fear this may have just been funny to me so feel free to skip, but thank you to everyone who tolerates my shenanigans <3.

ANYWAY, The lovely @baronessvonglitter bestowed upon me Oberyn x What’s Love Got to Do with It for fucktober (happy belated bday babe) but naturally, i made it weird. Thanks to @sunshinehaze1 for reminding me that modern AUs exist when I got scared of the GOT universe and to @auterdelabre for reminding me that the answer is always fuckboy. Don’t blame them for anything else.

Summary: You attend a fraternity toga party, and you catch the eye of Delta Psi’s notorious Red Viper. He shows you how he got the nickname and then he shows you something else he’s known for.

tags/warnings: explicit 18+ smut, alcohol/partying, gratuitous flirting, piv, fuckboy behavior aka on to the next one, infidelity, i couldn’t bring myself to write his dialogue in frat bro™ –aka i didn’t fully commit to the bit bc that man just had to be smooth and had to fuck no matter what universe i put him in, apologies if that ruins your immersion in my pwp, per usual: no y/n, f!reader is able bodied otherwise no specifics, unprotected piv as if it’s no biggie because it’s fiction (don’t do that irl), no beta/limited proofreading sorry for all mistakes

“Oh my god, that’s him!” Your best friend shouts into your ear as you walk down the sidewalk. You blend into the sea of toga-clad college kids, sandals slapping against the pavement. Liv leans on you, pointing out the guy she’s talking about. You can hear the music pouring out into the street and people inside yelling and chanting over someone doing a keg stand or something equally as exciting and alcohol-related, you assume.

The guy she pointed out is leaning casually against the banister, letting some ripped blond dude entertain him on the porch. “That’s the guy your roommate was talking about?” you question your friend. Liv agrees with a smile as you walk towards the front steps.

Everyone else on the porch looks like a frat bro wrapped in a wrinkly bedsheet, but for some reason, he seems almost godlike. He’s luminous under the warm lights. As if he knew you were checking him out, he turns his head just as you walk past, and his eyes sweep over you, making your face hot. Something sparks between you before he turns away, taking a swig of his drink.

Liv had given you a rundown on what to expect at your first Delta Psi party. You had argued that you knew what college parties were like. You transferred this quarter as a senior, and you just didn’t have Greek life at your other school or your best friend to convince you to go out. But now, you’re here, dressed up and entering a party that really does feel a little more intense than the ones back at your small-town university.

Liv’s roommate had given you the rundown on the guys she knew in the fraternity, but you didn’t pay much attention to her descriptions. You figured there was no way a Brad, Dylan, Connor, or a Brent would actually be hot. And then, when she started with the ones with nicknames, you completely checked out after Viper and Rooster. It has to defy the laws of nature for a frat bro that goes by Rooster to be able to find your clit—even if he IS hot.

Yet, now you realize you might be eating your words because you get it. You were too quick to judge, whoops. “Which one was that?” you ask in Liv’s ear as you both make your way through the people sloshing drinks and dancing.

“Viper!”

You can’t help the immediate grimace that emerges on your face. “That’s so douchey!” you shout back over the noise before she pulls you down a hall toward that kitchen. She leans in close to your ear, telling you that her roommate swears she got the best head of her life from him. “No fucking way,” you argue.

“Way,” she smirks back. “He’s got a girlfriend now, though. They’re, like, totally in love, it’s all over social media.” She mocks puking at the idea, and you share a laugh.

You explore the party together. The house is huge; one room on the main floor is blasting EDM, and another is blasting top 40 hits. There are a couple of beer pong tables in the backyard and a detached garage filled with stoners on old couches giggling to themselves. You know that Liv is itching to park her ass on one of those sofas and find a girl or guy to whom she can woo with her French inhale and makeout with for the rest of the night.

But, she’s a loyal ass bitch who wouldn’t abandon you. You circle back through the house. You spend a little while dancing together and taking your time to see if there’s anyone else who catches your eye. Nobody really sticks out to you in the first room until you catch his eyes again. You have to do a double-take as you circle your waist and roll your body against Liv.

He’s semi-shrouded in the corner; with the dim lighting and the packed house, it would be easy to miss the two of them altogether. But when the girl clinging to him turns around to grind her ass against him, he locks eyes with you, and you swear that fucker winks at you before a group of girls prance into the room, shouting oh my god, it’s our song! You try to shake it off. You were definitely just seeing things with the lights.

You signal to Liv, and she follows you into the other room. You dance together a bit longer. She offers you a swig from her rhinestone-encrusted flask, but you turn her down, staying sober tonight. You feel euphoric enough with the strobe lights and the thrumming bass from the EDM remixes blasting in the room.

You turn down a few wasted white dudes who try to dance up on the two of you. Too drunk. Not your type. Too handsy. You’re not afraid to punch a man in the throat or the nuts if they don’t get the hint, but they back off when you give them a gentle shove and a shake of your head. The most recent suitor is turning and scoping for another girl to approach when you see him again.

He’s moving towards you, looking right at you, but there’s no girl on his arm–or crotch, now. For some reason, it makes you feel too hot. You’re sweating from the dancing anyway, so you ignore the electric look in his eye that makes your clit twitch and grab Liv’s arm to make a dash for the backyard to get some fresh air.

You debrief with each other and come to an agreement. You tell Liv to do her thing, urging her to head towards the couch with the skater dude wearing the toga made from a dinosaur patterned sheet and the high-top vans. She agrees to text you if she plans to relocate or wants to leave before you finish taking another lap around the party.

You sort of lie to her, claiming someone inside caught your eye. They did, but you aren’t planning to do anything about it. Instead, you part ways and head back through the house, past the pledge posing as a bouncer at the front door, and onto the front porch. The music is still loud, but it’s quieter out front. People still trickle in and out of the party. You stare out at the night sky, searching for the moon. In your own little world, you’re basking in your own peace.

“I haven’t seen you here before,” a rich, velvety voice washes over your shoulder. It should make you jerk away, give you goosebumps, and raise your hackles. But, instead, the interruption stirs liquid heat in your core and makes your nipples hard. Because it’s him.

You turn your head and confirm. He’s so close to you.

“You know every girl here?” you challenge him.

“I know the ladies and gentlemen that pique my curiosity,” his voice is so smooth. He’s a charmer, for sure. He offers you a drink, holding out two plastic cups in one hand. The size of his hand does make you tingly, but his smile falters when you shoot him one of your signature dirty looks.

Before he can ask about the look, you take one of the cups, give him a cloyingly sweet smile, and pour it out over the railing into the grass below. The tail of his brow quirks, and he gives you a sly smile that widens into a grin and a full-chested laugh. “Oops,” you mock.

“You’re a bold woman,” he muses, “I like that.”

He doesn’t back down after you toss out his drink. He doesn’t take it as a rejection. He understands when you explain you don’t take open drinks from strangers at a frat party, but you roll your eyes hard when he gloats about not needing tricks or drugs to find a lover.

He banters with you as he downs the remaining drink. He’s quick, with sharp wit and a devious smile. You can’t keep your eyes off his exposed chest, his arms, his neck, his eyes. It’s still confusing how he can look so regal, whereas everyone else in the party looks a little…goofy? Cliche? He pulls you back to the present, asking for your name before he gives you his.

“They call me ‘the Red Viper,’” he gives you a provocative grin like he knows exactly how hot he looks, even with a bedsheet draped over his shoulder.

You play into his hand, “Is that some kinda of euphemism?” Feeding his ego with a suggestive arch of your brow. Maybe you’re bold, but you don’t think he’s the type to be deterred by a confident woman. In fact, it seems to make him glow even brighter.

His voice lowers, dripping with an enticing challenge, “Are you looking to find out?” he asks.

His jaw quirks, and you’re mesmerized watching him suck at his lower lip. It looks so perfectly plump and kissable, curling into a smirk as his eyes gleam with mischief. “Come,” he beckons for you to follow him deeper into the party.

“I thought you had a girlfriend,” you say stiffly, remembering what Liv had said as you walked in. He looks at you curiously before shaking his head lightly.

“You mean Cora? From earlier? She’s not my girlfriend. We were just dancing.”

“No,” you shake your head, “I heard it’s all over social media. That you’re loved up.”

“Oh, so you’ve heard of me?” he gives you that cocky smile that absolutely shouldn’t work but somehow makes you feel warm like you’re laying on the warm sand on a beach listening to the waves crashing. You don’t say anything else, and he leans in a little closer, “What’s love got to do with it?” he asks huskily. Dangerously.

It makes you shudder with something warm and twisted.

“Now,” he guides you gently but firmly, “Come.” You need him to stop saying it like an order before you do.

You let him walk you through the party. Weaving through the boisterous crowds. They part easily for him, clearing a path like he’s royalty.

“They call me ‘the Red Viper’ because I’m lethal at any game involving a red Solo cup.” He murmurs it into your ear like it’s a sexy secret.

You laugh brightly at that, giving him a gentle shove. “That’s the lamest thing I’ve ever heard!”

He gives you a coy shrug. “It’s the truth.” He leads you into the backyard, towards the beer pong tables. “I’ll show you,” he says just for you to hear. The string lights illuminate the yard in soft light; however, the mood is anything but romantic, with the drunk cheering college kids taking their drinking games very seriously.

You watch, amused, as one team high-fives each other over their trick shot. At another table, both teams heatedly argue about “house rules.”

“It’s the prince of pong!” one of his fraternity brothers shouts across the lawn. He gives you the most dramatic I told you so glance, and you mouth “lame” back at him. He calls ‘next game,’ and as if he were their lord, one table immediately clears out, forfeiting in a demonstration of fealty.

“Ladies first,” he offers once he’s set up all the cups to his liking. He’s so arrogant about it, and it shouldn’t turn you on, but it absolutely does.

You grin across the table at him. “You’re on.”

He’s merciful at first. You land a few cups, giving you enough confidence to talk shit and tease him. But it rapidly becomes apparent that he’s a man of his word as he easily picks off every cup on your end of the table with precision.

Despite your rapid descent towards a loss, you eat up his charm. His magnetic energy. He makes the rest of the party disappear when he looks at you. It makes your heart tingle and your pussy flutter. He’s a gracious winner, only gloating a little as he reracks the table and offers it up to other party-goers.

“Alright, Viper, you won. You can retain your title.” You admit defeat as he slinks up close to you, ushering you along to the side of the house, only a few steps away but more secluded from the rest of the party.

“And now, will you allow me to claim my prize?” he asks in his smoky, deep voice.

Despite his clear intentions, you feign confusion as he wraps one wide hand around your waist and tilts your chin towards his face with the other. “I didn’t know we were playing for stakes,” you smile brashly. Your skin blazes under his touch and his seductive gaze as his eyes drop to your mouth.

He starts to dip towards you, but you swerve away from him. It’s on the tip of your tongue to ask again if he’s in a relationship. He growls softly, almost a purr, next to your ear. “What’s wrong, my lady?” he murmurs. The intimacy of it is heady, and your surroundings fade.

You want to take whatever he’s offering, no questions, so instead you whisper, “Tell me your real name.”

He sighs softly before giving in and telling you his name.

“Oberyn,” you repeat back, “that’s unique.”

He starts muttering about how he’s an international student, but you’ve got all the info you needed. Now you don’t have to add a guy named Viper to your mental list of hookups.

“I like it,” you cut him off before slotting your mouth against his and making up for ducking out of his last attempt at a kiss with your eagerness. He wraps his arm around you, and you’re transported. One large hand presses against your lower back, urging your hips toward his, and the other cradles your jaw, giving you a sense of stability as he matches your ferocity.

You briefly wonder if you’d have melted if he wasn’t holding you so tightly before your thoughts are consumed by the sensation of his lips against yours and his tongue running along yours. It’s not a kiss you would’ve expected from a frat guy. It’s romantic and passionate, and you feel your body rolling against his, caught up in the sensation and intensity.

You keep going, letting yourself enjoy the moment, eating up the flavor of him, the scent of him, and the throbbing intensifying between your legs. You slip one of your hands along the back of his neck into his soft hair, and he groans into your mouth. It makes your knees weak.

You chase his mouth as he pulls back and looks into your heavy-lidded eyes. Sharing the hot air between you, it feels like a current is looping through your bodies, buzzing with need.

“Let’s go upstairs,” he urges in a gravelly whisper. You can feel him hardening against you. His hand on your back is firm, keeping you flush, pelvis to pelvis, making you nearly dizzy. However, his hand on your jaw is gentle, brushing his thumb along your cheek sweetly. You still can’t help goading just a little.

“What for?” you ask playfully.

“To fuck.”

It makes your cheeks hot. Maybe there should be red flags popping up in your mind, but you don’t care. He likes a bold woman, and you like a direct man.

“Unless you’d rather do it in the grass here,” he tilts his head toward the ground. You act like you’re considering the option seriously, making him laugh before he releases you from his arms. “Don’t tease,” he says with a severe look, “It wouldn’t bother me.”

Me either, you consider before deciding not to say that part aloud. You tell him to take you to a real bed, and he does. Swiftly guiding you into the house and up the stairs, past the pledge guarding the rooms, and into his bedroom. He spins around, pinning you against the door for another searing kiss. It’s more urgent this time. He’s quickly moving to your neck, trailing open-mouthed kisses down your tender skin as you both greedily run your hands along each other’s bodies.

Before you can get your hands under his toga, he’s detaching from you and sinking to his knees. He moves efficiently, bunching up your toga and asking you to hold it. Then he’s hovering his hot mouth over your mound before kissing you over your lacey panties.

“Mmm,” he hums into you and traces the crease of your thighs with one hand, following the line until he’s softly running his fingers along the edge of your panties, the tips of his fingers barely dipping beneath the hem as he moves towards your core. You watch, staring down with your mouth parted as he holds your gaze.

He teases you, running his fingertips along your seam over the soaked fabric, tapping and teasing at your swollen clit through the fabric as he watches your needy expression morph into frustration. You shift, spreading your legs wider, but he stops you with a large hand on each thigh.

“Hold still,” he orders, and you feel compelled to listen. He pulls your underwear down and off of you, then hooks one of your legs over his shoulder, spreading your cunt open. “That’s better.”

You can’t tell if he’s talking to himself or to you. You don’t have a chance to ask before he’s burying his face into your soft, wet pussy. Your breath hitches at the sensation and one of your hands flies out to grab at the door frame to steady you, while the other one digs into Oberyn’s hair.

He’s unbothered by your dramatics. Oberyn moves with enthusiasm, drawing his tongue along your slit and pressing into your sex with his jaw. His facial hair tickles at your tender skin deliciously and his nose grazes over your clit as if his face were molded to maximize your pleasure. He changes his strategy, mouthing at your clit and sweeping his tongue over it like he’s making out with it, with the same passion that he kissed you with outside and a moment ago.

You can feel it starting to build. Your hip flexors straining and thighs starting to tremble as your breathing gets quicker and more shallow. Closer and closer and closer. He’s perceptive and diligent. Repeating the same tricks that make you moan and dig your fingers into his hair.

You’re stuck on the precipice, so close but not quite there. Your eyes roam around the dimly lit room, the bed, the bookshelf, the tapestry pinned to the wall, the collection of cologne bottles lined up on the desk, the mirror on top of the desk–pointing right at the bed.

It starts to frustrate you. Not the decor choices, but the tension and the building pressure. You squirm slightly, hoping the smallest adjustment will somehow bring everything into a sharper focus. You let your eyes close, letting the roar of the party downstairs fade, focusing on the pressure and warmth of Oberyn’s mouth.

More, more, more.

It’s all you can think as Oberyn stays dedicated to getting you off on his tongue. He sucks firmly at your clit before releasing you with a slick sound. He hovers, mouth fanning warm air over your core looking up at you. His eyes are lit with hunger.

“More?” he asks in his deep, rich voice.

You can’t tell if you were chanting out loud or if he’s somehow reading your mind. “Please,” you respond with a needy edge, “more.” You catch the sparkle in his eye and the flash of a grin. He works you up again, towards the brink, relishing in your responses as you whine with need as he resumes holding you in a purgatory of pleasure.

Mercifully, he does give you more. Oberyn grips your thigh with one hand, steadying you, while he swipes two fingers along the length of your pussy once, twice, coating them in your arousal before plunging them inside of you. The increased pressure and friction from his fingers pumping into you causes you to moan. It’s a lower register than your breathy panting from earlier, layered with satisfaction as you can feel the anticipation starting to crest.

“Don’t stop,” you beg, “I’m so close.”

He doesn’t stop, groaning at your words, rumbling against you. That snaps the tension and you cry out his name and a string of curses as your orgasm hits. He doesn’t slow down when your cunt contracts around his fingers and he doesn’t lose focus when you shake and writhe against mouth. Not until you’re pulling him off of you, oversensitive and wrung out.

Oberyn stands, wiping at his chin before pulling you in close for another breathtaking kiss. He walks you back toward the bed and you fall into it, pulling him with you. You tangle together, frantically, you want him inside of you now. He laughs softly against your hot neck, sensing your frustration.

“Shh,” he murmurs as you huff with defeat. He moves deftly, braced over you with one arm, and freeing his cock with the other. Your hands stroke up and down his shoulders and back, and you hook one leg around his hip, encouraging him. “You want me to fuck you now?” he asks and you whisper a yes that turns into a gasp as he runs his tip through your soaked center. “And how do you want it?”

“Hard.”

“Yeah,” he agrees, sinking into you deeper and deeper, and pulling back, all the way out, then all the way in. “Fuck,” he says to himself as he sets a quick pace, slaming his hips into yours making the bedframe creak with every thrust. If the noise from the party didn’t drown everything else out, you might be embarrassed to have strangers over hear, but you would be surprised if anyone could hear a thing. And, even if you were louder than the party, you could care less about being caught as Oberyn fucks you into the mattress.

“Harder,” you goad him, hoping for more. To your horror he pulls out of you completely, but you swiftly find yourself flipped onto your stomach as he lifts your hips and enters you from behind. You press back, meeting his thrusts, bouncing off of his hips until he presses his palm between your shoulder blades. He forces your chest into the mattress, holding you still so he can fuck you like he means it, with enough force that all you can do brace yourself and ball your fists, twisting the bedding between your fingers.

With your cheek against the bed you can watch your reflection in the mirror. It’s hot, even with your togas draped and bunched up, you look good together. It makes you grin. He catches you looking and turns, meeting your eyes in the mirror before watching your bodies. He grips your hips firmly and you can barely keep your eyes open to watch as he continues.

He overwhelms you with his stamina, keeping up a pace that has your mind feeling blissfully fuzzy. He says something else before folding over you and slipping his hand around towards your clit, determined to feel you come around his cock. You’re so close already, it’s only a moment, a few more thrusts, before shuddering beneath him. He tries to fuck you through it, but you clench and constrict around him so tightly that he pulls out while you’re still moaning.

You can hear the slick wet sounds as he strokes himself, cursing under his breath again, before you feel the warmth as he comes across the swell of your ass and your fluttering cunt. You sink, dropping your hips and relaxing onto the bed while he catches his breath. Oberyn squeezes at your thighs, offering praise you don’t quite hear, then he’s slipping off the bed. He cleans you up with a towel, but you remain still for a little longer, enjoying the satisfaction and the sweet ache from the intensity.

“Take your time,” he tells you, leaning down to press a kiss to your shoulder. It’s gentle. You murmur a thanks at him before breaking into an airy giggle. It makes your ribcage shake, bouncing slightly on the mattress, realizing that Liv is going to die when you tell her you can confirm her roommates story. Oberyn doesn’t question your reaction.

He pauses to readjust his toga and his hair in the mirror. Once seemingly satisfied, he turns back towards you, watching you sit up. “I’ll see you out there,” he says with a smile before he slips out of the room.

You linger for just a little. Allowing yourself the privacy to revel in the sweet satisfaction of the post-sex chemicals flowing through your body. You let yourself grin while you check your phone to see where Liv is at.

You take another minute, using the mirror to fix your own appearance, aiming for a slightly less obvious version of I just got railed, before meeting your own eyes. For a sobering second you remember you didn’t get a real answer about if he has a girlfriend. He sure as fuck doesn’t act like it, you decide. You shake off the thought.

He might be a frat bro, he might be a piece of shit, all you know for sure is that he is hot, a good kisser, and he knew how to make you come. Three things you didn’t think you’d find in one guy under this roof. You give yourself a final onceover before heading out of the room and down the stairs.

You don’t see Oberyn in the first few rooms you pass. You keep looking; he couldn’t have gone far. You’re barely finished that thought when you spot him in the kitchen. The sight makes you stumble, shooting a hand out to the wall to catch your balance.

He’s leaning casually, with his hip against the counter, as a starry-eyed girl looks up at him, giggling flirtatiously, as she lays a hand along his bicep.

It’s in slow motion. The way he looks at her hand, the way his eyes trail along her arm, over the curve of her breasts, and down her legs before flitting back to her face with that same sinful smirk you just fell for.

Your shoulders drop. It’s not like you were planning your wedding or that you even thought a date was on the table—but you didn’t think he’d be on to the next girl before you made it down the stairs.

You start to recenter yourself, reaching to check your phone again before you look for Liv.

He sees you before you can mind your business and plan your next move. Catching your eye through the doorway. Before you can formulate a reaction, you’re stuck, held in his gaze. He winks at you again, only this time there’s no question if you were making it up. He winked at you and despite everything, it makes your whole body tingle.

“I saw that!” Liv shouts into your ear, wrapping an arm around you. “You have to tell me what the fuck that was about. But first can we please get pancakes or cheese fries?”

You don’t bother turning back for a second glance as you follow Liv toward the front door.

You must understand though the touch of your hand

Makes my pulse react

That it's only the thrill of boy meeting girl

Opposites attract

It's physical

Only logical

You must try to ignore that it means more than that

Oh, oh, oh

What's love got to do, got to do with it?

…..

tags for babes, but no presh:

@lovely-vamp-princess

@gothcsz

@auteurdelabre

@adoreyouusugar

@swankyorange

@itwasntimethatdidit40

@ivoryandflame

@magneticecstasy

#fucktober #birthday baroness #oberyn x f!reader #oberyn martell x f!reader #oberyn martell smut #posting at 3 in the morning my time as per usual

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