#i will state even the best parents are gonna fuck up

[bitchface24-7]

Bro holy fuck that JayVik Drabble was everything

Maybe you can do a fic where it’s JayVik x reader

(Plz be gender neutral, not fem reader ONLY 😭, male readers will love you istg)

and they aren’t public, like their relationship is still under wraps. But they fall asleep cuddled in the lab and Caitlyn and Vi come in for a hangout they were supposed to go to (like going to the lab to get the three and head off to their destination), and see the three cuddled up together, then teasing them with how cute they are after they wake up.

❤️

THANK GOD FOR JAYCE TALIS PT 2 - JAYVIK X READER

synopsis: Jayce has finally put his foot down in regards to the council, allowing for a more doable schedule. He gets to continue his councillor duties, but he also gets to see his two partners on a more daily basis; AND he gets to help with researching and trialing Hextech. The only thing is you’ve kept your relationship under wraps, and you’ve completely forgotten a previous engagement that you all agreed to. Oopsies….

warnings: allusions to sex, getting caught cuddling, funny argument, pre-established relationships, all in all; this is a fluffy mess, again no beta LMAO

genre: m/m/f, m/m/m, and f/f (caitvi obvi)

p.s. You’re my first ever request in my inbox and I’ve damn near had my Tumblr for a decade, so this is quite special to me. I hope my writing lives up to your standards!! Xoxo (I do indeed continue fics if I get comments asking as well, I love when y’all love my writing 🥹🥹)

After some heavy encouragement, Jayce had headed to the council’s meeting room with his head held high and his steps even. He was making a fair request, a request that many of the councillors would not deny him.

Why would they? He’s their “golden boy” the “man of progress” he’s gonna milk their forced upon image to get what he wants.

And he does.

He’s able to still continue his councillor duties, but he’s not as restrained. He’s still able to be in the lab with two of the people he loves most (not including him mama, she’ll always have a reserved spot in his heart.)

The three of you are overjoyed at the progress made. It feels like the first day all over again; all those years ago. The three of you in the lab, researching, testing, joking around. It’s like a secluded heaven.

The one upside is the couch you all pooled money into getting. Now, you know you’ve done some… inappropriate things on that couch. You and Viktor. You and Jayce. You, Jayce, and Viktor. Viktor and Jayce.

But you heavily sanitize it afterwards! You’re not animals!

The one major upside is that the couch is a pull-out bed. Is the couch itself appealing to look at? Maybe to some, but the bright salmon kinda clashes with everything else in the lab but who cares? It’s there as a means of comfort to you and your two partners; not as something to be looked at and never used (as some Piltovian people do in their own houses. Like… what?)

So when the three of you have pulled another all nighter, now almost 72 hours of no sleep. You’re exhausted. You’re smelling colours and tasting sound. You can’t possibly leave in this state in a safe manner; so you three decide to set up the pull-out bed and take a nap before continuing to work. You three may have forgotten something very important.

The planned lunch you agreed to attend with Caitlyn and Vi. And they’re coming to get you now.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Two sets of footsteps are heard reverberating in the academy’s halls. One is light, almost completely silent. While the other, is a bit heavier but quicker.

Caitlyn and Vi have been wanting to catch up with you three desperately. Jayce is like Caitlyn’s older brother, and one of Vi’s best friends. Vi feels like a part of home came with her in both you and Viktor, and Caitlyn loves the two of you. You’re both witty and sarcastic. The two of you are older figure Caitlyn can go to when she doesn’t want to deal with either of her parents or Jayce.

So imagine their surprise as they enter the lab, unlocked for once, and see the three of you cuddled up in a pull-out bed. Fitting together like a small puzzle.

Jayce is closest to the lab doors, his back facing them as he breathes deeply, an arm stretched out over your waist and a hand clasping at Viktor’s. You’re in the middle, on your back as one hand lays cross your stomach and the other in Viktor’s hair. Your head is tilted to rest upon Jayce’s chest. Viktor’s on the side closest to a window, his weaker leg is supported by a pillow as his other leg is bent, coming over one of your thighs.

You three look adorable.

Caitlyn and Vi can’t help but smile at the three of you, it isn’t until Caitlyn sees a mischievous look on Vi’s face does she realize what her girlfriend is about to do.

“Vi don’t—“

“WAKE UP SLEEPY HEADS!”

The three of you groan, Jayce jolts up and runs a hand over his face, you cover yourself in the blankets, and Viktor just grumbles, “What the fuck, man.”

It takes about a minute or two before the realization kicks in.

Oh.

Oh no.

You’ve been caught.

Jayce tries to sputter an excuse as you and Viktor just lay in bed silently, trying to pretend Caitlyn and Vi aren’t there. It’s isn’t until Caitlyn sighs do the two of you look at her.

“My brother… really?”

Jayce is stunned speechless as the two of you roar in laughter. His sputtering for an excuse has changed into an indignant whine, “Cait, you’re so mean to me.”

“Looks like you’re into that.”

“Vi!”

“What pretty boy, am I wrong?”

You wipe a tear from your eye, only to be sent into hysterics again by Viktor’s response, “She’s right.”

Caitlyn fake gags and dry heaves, “Oh my god, I did NOT need to know that!”

Vi just puts a fist out for Jayce to fist-bump, “Good on ya man.”

Jayce smiles and fist bumps her. You three really had no need to worry.

“So… was it the rugged look that did you in?”

“Vi!”

“What cupcake, I’m just asking a question!Jeez.” Vi says innocently, her hands raised in surrender.

“Kind of,” you start, as you finally sit up and try to get out of bed. Viktor’s leg stops you, “I mean I’ve always loved them, but the council keeping Jayce away for so long amplified it. The rugged looks did indeed help. But we’ve been together for…. Almost a year now.”

“Eleven months this upcoming August.” Viktor adds as he looks at the two of you lovingly.

The joyful atmosphere dulls a bit at that statement. Vi and Caitlyn look at each other, a bit hurt.

“You… you’ve been together for that long… and you weren’t going to tell us?” Caitlyn asks, her voice quiet and tense. At that, Jayce jumps out of bed and pulls Caitlyn into a big hug, messy shirt and pants be damned.

“Oh Sprout… we didn't mean to hurt you. Any of you,” he says as he glances towards Vi, “we were just nervous. We weren't sure how people would react.”

You and Viktor slowly get up to join the group, “And you know how the council is regarding Jayce…” you add hesitantly, Viktor puts a hand on your shoulder and says what you're all thinking.

“They’ve built Jayce up as a symbol. A desire to be, to have. They've made this nonsensical parasocial relationship regarding Jayce and the people of Piltover. We were just trying to be safe, we didn't want anyone breathing down our necks…” Viktor's hand tightens on your shoulder.

Vi snorts, “You’re right. That fucking sucks. And for you to play safe, from what I've heard… that's saying something.”

You laugh as Viktor rolls his eyes, Jayce pulls away from his hug from Caitlyn and puts his hands on her shoulders, “Ya think you can forgive us, Sprout?”

Caitlyn’s lips thin and she narrows her blue eyes at him, Jayce feels like gulping. The two of you know what she's doing.

She's getting her little sister revenge.

“Fine.” she complies and Jayce deflates like a balloon, and you two giggle at Jayce's dramatics.

“Please tell me you clean that couch, I've sat on it before.”

“Oh my Janna, Vi!”

“What?! It's a serious question!”

Jayce gives Vi a look, “We do indeed clean it, but next time we break it in, we may not. We may accidentally forget.”

Vi jokingly puts a hand on her chest in horror, “Why would you say that?!”

“Cause I want to see you squirm next time you come in here and sit on the damn thing.”

All of you burst out laughing, this couldn't have gone any better. “Our reservation is at three. So tidy up as best you can, you three probably haven't eaten all day.” Caitlyn orders.

You, Jayce, and Viktor look at one another before slowly nodding. Damn. She's got you, she's got you good.

“Shut up Caitlyn.”

“If you continue that attitude with me Jayce, I’ll make sure all the sweet milk goes to Viktor.”

You chuckle as Viktor states, “Keep the attitude up Jayce. That sweet milk is mine.”

“I've never got to try it! You keep drinking the glasses you make for me!”

“Sucks to be you.”

Jayce sputters and you just smile at the two ridiculous men you're in love with.

You can't wait to see what the years have in store for you three.

I saw your request as soon as I woke up and put this together asap. I hope you (and everyone else who reads this) enjoy this fluffy piece! If anyone else has any requests, my inbox is always open xoxo.

[icedjuiceboxes]

You know I always wondered why Emily the butcher ending always felt so off to keep corvo entrapped in stone.

To keep Emily entrapped made sense, because its corvo protecting Emily to the extreme. A princess locked up in a tower situation. And then it hit me.

I always saw corvo as the hero. Doing everything he can to keep Emily safe. But from Emily's perspective, what if it wasn't that? What if it was years and years of isolating her, deciding who she sees, what she does, dictating every moment and aspect of life to keep her out harms way. Emily robbed of freedom and independence, robbed out of thinking for herself. And it made her snap? Keeping Corvo entrapped in stone wasn't to keep HIM safe, but it was punishment. Retribution. A child reflecting back the results of helicopter parenting. The princess escaping her tower going after the one who put her there, and not the thing the tower was protecting her from.

[penisbilt]

the bittersweet but absolute flood of relief that comes from admitting defeat at living independently, to have to move back in with parents. we tried! we gave it our best shot for almost 3 years! but living like this (being on our own) is just not possible for us at this time of our lives. we've finally proved it to ourselves that we can't do it. it'll be okay to let ourselves rest now

[blkkizzat]

❛ MY SHORTY ALWAYS ON SOME BULLSHIT LIKE CHICAGO ❜

PART 3

part of the 420 'We Be Burnin' series

⋙ MENU ITEM: PLUG!CHOSO x SORORITYBRAT!READER ⋙ PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 (IN STOCK!!!)

⋙ product description (summary): choso's finally had enough and if you won't listen to reason he will fuck it into you. but will you still choose him in the end or will he make that choice for you? ⋙ side effects (tw): THE LONG AWAITED BRAT TAMING! rough sex. throat goat!reader. more angst. spanking ass/puss. teasing. edging. lots of delayed pleasure. jealousy. cunnalingus. mirror sex. dom!choso. breeding kink. dirty talk. backshots. fingering. squirting. daddy kink. thigh riding. nuru/thigh fucking. intoxicated reader. drug use (weed). slight voyeurism. yandere choso. baby trapping. mentions of violence (not towards reader). mentions of somnophilia and a lil bit of fluff. ⋙ thc levels (wc): 9.6k of 22.1k ⋙ inventory notes (a/n): best viewed in dark mode. the long awaited end! i hope you guys like it. i really worked hard on this to make it good <3 special shout outs to my betas @littlemochabunni for literally always talking me off the ledge when i want to ctrl + a+ del everything and @buttercupblu for all the grammar edits my adhd brain struggles with and inspiring me to write the last scene.

Plug!Choso who ultimately will forgive you but it will be on his terms. He just needed to show you first why the only person you should worry about pleasing was him.

Menacing chuckles rumble deep from Choso’s chest, bewildering you in your crossfaded state. Seizing you with a firm hold, he forces you to meet his gaze. Choso holds you so tightly against him that your feet barely touch the ground.

Any attempts of wriggling out of his hold are in vain.

“You’re such a fucking slut.”

His matter-of-fact statement makes you frown. You’re taken aback by the twisted amusement on his face.

“You don’t love me… You love my cock.”

“N-No I—”

Your already short skirt now bunches above your hips and Choso brings a heavy hand down onto your exposed bottom. The sting brings fresh tears to your eyes as the gems on your fishnets leave distinct impressions on your soft, malleable skin.

“You’ll have to learn to be quiet while daddy’s talking, princess.”

If you were going to act like a childish brat, Choso would treat you like one.

Another harsh spank startles you into hiccups as you sniff away fallen tears. 

You’d never been spanked before—not by previous lovers or boyfriends—hell not even your parents growing up. 

The last person you’d expect it from was Choso.

And yet each swift lick Choso deals you is as terrifying as it is exhilarating. 

Who knew you would be such a glutton for punishment? 

You fidget, biting your lip in anticipation of another. 

“Been thinkin’ princess—I’ve been too good to you. But you don’t want that, eh?”

A third smack has you whimpering. Your pelvic muscles clench hard, releasing more of the desperation that had already saturated your thighs.

“You want one of those assholes outside, is that right? They’re good enough for you, huh princess?”

You can only mewl in response from the delightful pain that pierces your senses as he delivers another and another.

“S’why every time I fuckin’ come round y’er being a lil’cocktease for some preppy ass frat fuck.”

Choso wasn’t wrong. 

You knew what those boys wanted from you.

Even though you had never really entertained any of them. That was the allure in itself—to be something unattainable. 

Yet more selfishly, you liked the attention. Not like you’d even got the same thrill from it anymore since you were with Choso—but old habits die hard.

Choso was making damn sure of that now.

“Tryna get one of them to fuck you tonight—”

Choso’s cock twitches in sync with your trembles from every spank.

“—or were you hoping I was finally gonna put that pretty princess pussy of yours in her place?” 

You’re smart enough to know Choso’s question is rhetorical and how could it not be given all your actions tonight? 

It was clear you wanted him and his deliciously fat cock back—badly. 

Your tongue cautiously peeks out as you try to quiet your shuddering breaths, afraid that any small movement might provoke his anger. At this point you know better than to beg too, almost certain that any attempts would only fuel the unexpected mean streak Choso had developed.

Yet despite any initial apprehension you were quickly becoming puddy in his hands.

“Poor baby, working so hard having to appease everyone—” 

SMACK!

“—well you ain’t gotta worry that bratty head of yours no more—seeing as you won’t be doing none of that shit from now on.” 

His threats which should have you cussing him out only make you wetter as your heart pounds in your ears from the thrill of being dominated. You’d do anything right now to get a little relief for your aching cunt that had gone a whole goddamn month without Choso’s thick cock plugging her up. 

Restless in arousal, your entire being just begs to be fucked. 

Releasing your hair Choso parts your legs with his knee and you collapse onto him, your plump pussy colliding with his thigh. You whimper, tightly gripping his broad shoulders for leverage to rock yourself against his thigh. 

Choso could feel the intensity of the moist heat radiating from your core dampening his jeans.

“Shit, I can feel you dripping… pussy drooling just from getting that ass spanked a lil’—are you a masochist, princess?”

Choso breathes the question into your ear, his words bringing a chill over your skin fanning goosebumps all the way down to the nape of your neck.

You’re losing yourself all the more in the hypnotic state of lust swirling from alcohol, weed, pain and arousal clashing within you. 

You nearly choke on the deep guttural moans that had been held in by his hand still around your throat when he grabs your hips forcibly rocking you harder against him. Your paper-thin thong does nothing to protect you  from the rough threadbare material of his jeans grinding against your sensitive lil nub. 

“Wearing these slutty tights with an ass like yours…” 

You almost forget to breathe, the sting this time accompanied by him sliding his fingers between the gaps in the material and grabbing the fat of your ass for emphasis.

“...coulda got me in so much shit tonight if I made ol’boy who was touchin’ up on you swallow teeth.”

The baritone in his voice lowers to a deadly note, tuning every nerve in your body to the exact pitch of his voice.

“P-Please C-Cho I—”

—in an instant the hand on your hip coils around your neck. 

Thumbing your collarbone, Choso slowly applies just enough pressure to activate the euphoric sensation of suffocation, sending tingles down your spine.

“Look at me princess, you better stay quiet—m’not gonna say it again.”

You choke back a cry as the elastic on your fishnets snaps against your tender skin when Choso removes his hand from them.

“But then your lil’card got pulled when you saw me with that whore, hmm?”

You wince preemptively expecting another hard spanking but Choso loosens his grip around your throat. He looks at you expectantly, waiting for your answer.

A sniffly frown complements the pitifulness of your runny makeup as you cling to him possessively. 

“Y-Yeah… I-I hated seeing that d-dumb bitch all over you. Wanted to fuck her up.”

Choso is satisfied with your answer but the warmth behind his smile didn’t match the heated glint in his eyes.

“There it is. See? Bratty princesses who are honest get rewarded—”

Any relief you feel is short lived as your despair returns with the words that follow.

“—eventually.”

Plug!Choso who has you so close to release just from rutting against his brawny thigh. Yet just as you feel the hot coil about to snap in your stomach he pulls away from you. 

Wobbling for stability, your panic that he would leave again subsides when he returns to sit on your bed.

Choso leans forward with his elbows resting on his knees to pack another bowl. The process is second nature to him and his hands move with an instinctual precision, allowing his oppressively dark gaze to remain fixed to you.

“Strip.”

It’s a rather simple command but it causes a small malfunction in your brain nonetheless. 

Your intuition is simultaneously screaming at you to be a ‘good girl’ and listen to Choso so he’d finally fuck you—but also to get the hell away from the menacing man before you were actually fucked.

Choso’s shift in his nature was setting off every internal alarm—although at the same time, you couldn’t say this still didn’t feel like Choso.

Was it really new? 

Or was this side just new to you? 

You’d only ever really known the gentle boyish side of Choso. The side who would blush easily and that was so willing to do anything to please you—the side that was a dutiful and loving brother.

But this other side? 

Well, he was a dealer.

You’d never heard of Choso getting caught out or punked in the streets—not even once. 

You also never knew how he conducted his business, as he always stepped out of the car or left the room. When he took a call while you were with him, all you could hear were faint murmurs of conversation over the rumbling bass of music or through a well-insulated door.

You knew he did his best to keep that side away from you and Yuji, as it wasn’t always pretty. 

Instantly you recalled how once when you had slept over he reluctantly left in the middle of the night late saying he had ‘business’ to take care of. When he came home hours later he looked worn down and even more tired than usual. His knuckles were swollen and there was a rip with small dots of blood on his collar which you would have thought was his own if not for there not being a single scratch on him.

He didn’t speak of what happened and you couldn’t fuss over his appearance for too long—your mind being far from inquisitive while blubbering from his cock drilling your body deep into the mattress. You blissfully became a fleshlight of relief for all his frustrations that night until long after sunrise. 

In fact, Choso had dicked you down so thoroughly when you finally made it out of bed that day it was mid-afternoon. You didn’t even question him about the bruises lingering on his knuckles or whose blood he had on him—still in a daze off his cock.

So this must be how he is in the streets. 

“Go on now, princess.”

The deep silky dominance in his tone commanded your attention, jarring you from your thoughts. You’re pouting, but your body, in spite of your more rational mind, wins as it compels you to obey him, convincing you that anything he has planned for you would be well worth the pleasure that follows. 

Slowly, you begin to lift up your tiny pink top when Choso’s eyes narrow in disapproval, stopping you.

“Nuh-uh see—that shit right there won't cut it.”

You’re puzzled. You did exactly as he asked.

“You didn’t think I saw my lil’ slut playing beer pong and teasing those shitheads with my tiddies? Now do it for me—the same fuckin’ way.”

You’re nodding but your delicate hands are nevertheless shaking under his intense smolder.

Swallowing your anxiety and mimicking your earlier actions, you bent towards him. Your chest is lightly heaving by the time your nails begin to slowly drag the hem of the sparkly top down over your breasts. Choso is blatantly palming his cock when you give the final tug that has your tits bouncing forth from their confines, fully exposed to him.

Choso hums in approval, satisfied with your performance. He motions with a finger for you to come to him and you can’t close the distance fast enough to stand between his legs. 

Molding your hips in his large hands, Choso brings you even closer. Parting his lips the smoke tendrils fan over your stomach while his mouth hovers over your skin. 

Choso looks back up at you and your belly dips, quivering at his dangerously seductive eyes and mischievous grin. 

You were nervous—good.

“Knees.”

Plug!Choso who has you shamelessly panting on your knees before him. Not caring for any decorum at this point you’re openly salivating as hearts practically dance in your eyes over his engorged cock throbbing inside his jeans.

Choso releases a whiny hiss when the air hits his swollen glands. His length sways weighted down as an embarrassing amount of pre drips off his reddened shaft, his boxers already soiled. 

In your right state of mind you might have used this to shift back the power dynamics—yet alas, you are far too gone now. The need for him to give you his praise and approval winning out over any inklings of sass or disobedience. 

Your attention is all but zeroed in on how those milky pearls dribbled over his albert piercing and down the thick vein on the underside of his length.

Seeing how your mouth watered just from the sight of his cock, it’s Choso who proves to be the more impatient one as he grips the back of your head with one hand forcing you closer. In his haste, his dick misses your mouth and skids across your cheek, prompting a low growl of curses from Choso. 

Unconcerned with his impatience, you’re still in your own world—and that world in question was currently being filled with the carnal smell of Choso’s scent marking your skin. A long stain of pre smearing across your face mind shuts down now solely driven by your needy cunt.

“I’ll forgive you when you show me how sorry you are—”

“—anything!” 

Quickly snapping out of your dickmatized daze you look up at him with doe eyes, begging for the go-ahead.

“Yeah? Then do it nasty for me, princess.” 

The words have scarcely left Choso’s lips before you’re already parting your own, releasing a viscous well of drool to pour languidly on his dick.

Your saliva mixing with his spilled essence coats his cock and fills the room with vulgar squelches as you obediently pump his hot length. You rotate your grip with a sinful precision while your other hand thumbs his gooch as you’re cupping his balls, kneading them in a manner that had Choso’s toes curling. 

Giving thanks for the meal you are about to consume, you never break eye contact as you deliver pillowy kisses to his tip and strum your tongue under his frenulum. Choso’s abs twitch feverishly when the sultry hollow of your mouth lewdly hums over his piercing. The sounding effect alone is nearly enough to make him bust right then. 

You aren’t holding up well yourself either as your thighs squeeze together soaking your fishnets which had long been sticky with your overflowing arousal. Manifesting that it soon would be the moist suction of your vacant cunt and not of your spit glossed lips that would take him whole as you continue to moan wantonly around his girth.

The memory alone didn’t do your mouth justice to Choso, not that he still didn’t cum plenty from thinking of your lips slobbering around him in the last month.

Fuck if you didn’t always give some crazy ass head though.

However, he knows he has to keep control lest he loses all the progress he made training that lil’ attitude of yours tonight. 

Weaving his muscular hands through your hair, in one swift motion Choso thrusts his hips forward. He groans loudly from your warm gummy throat now stuffed full with his cock. Gargling his girth you choke when Choso’s piercing scrapes the back of your throat as he forcibly bobs your head up and down.

Thick tears burn your vision with your running mascara flowing right down your full cheeks. But it's nothing compared to the fiery burn in your cunt that’s even more jealous than before of your throat getting the treatment it needs so desperately.

“You’re gonna be my good girl from now on? Yeah baby, I know—I know ya are. Now open that throatpussy a lil wider for me, got sum’ for it.”

Heart fluttering at his filthy praises, you easily let him coerce your face flush to his pubic bone to take him to the very hilt. Your nose is buried in his dark pubic hair and his balls slap your chin at every thrust. The harsh treatment has your tears mingling with his fluids to coat your face and stain his jeans. 

This is how you should be. 

Obedient and pretty while your sobs vibrate around his cock destroying your throat. All you had to do was worry about taking care of him—in turn he would take care of you and the rest.

Shit though, going so long without your bratty little mouth around his dick Choso wasn’t about to last too much longer. 

His blunted nails dig into your scalp as he hunches, curling over your body from the sloppy way he plows even deeper into you. 

“You’re gonna take all of it princess. Every last bit, understood?”

Choso takes your unintelligible gurgles and the hands shoving against his thighs as confirmation. A needy grunt is followed by jets of his creamy load spurting down your esophagus.

Teeming with adrenaline, you gasp for air. Your lungs are on fire from sputtering up his tangy spunk that somehow even trickled into your windpipes. Choso’s fluids dribble down your chin, a show of proof from you having milked his cock so thoroughly. 

But you're not angry with him for the rough treatment—on the contrary. 

Once your coughs subside you’re gazing up at Choso like an innocent lamb and not the nasty throat goat you just proved yourself to be. Praying you have been enough of a good girl for him to finally fuck your lil’ cunt as hard as you needed.

Plug!Choso who rewards you with gentle strokes that smooth your hair back and caress your flushed cheeks stained with his spunk.

Keeping true to his promise of every last bit, Choso thumbs the remaining salty fluids soiling your face back into your mouth, dumping the excess onto your tongue that greedily slurps it down.

Satisfied, Choso straightens and beckons you onto his lap with a pat to his thigh. Smirking at your enthusiasm as you clumsily settle in. 

“Now doesn’t it feel nice…being a good girl for once?”

Choso affectionately twirls your hair in his fingers and you bob your head eagerly. 

Your lips are mere centimeters apart.

You want to kiss him but Choso doesn’t feel like you earned that just yet, balling his fist to tug your locks taunt when you lean in.

“Not yet, baby.”

You stick your lip out, fussing in aroused frustration. 

“Tsk—now, now none of that shit, brats don’t get kisses—and they certainly don’t get this dick.”

If the look in his eyes were any indication you knew Choso meant business. The searing eye contact had long incinerated all the walls you’d built to keep him out, exposing the very essence of you laid bare in the ashes. 

You have no more defenses against him, becoming more obedient to his every word.

Seconds pass that seem like achingly brutal hours until he breaks the staredown. His sights now follow his hands as they splay out trailing from your collarbone to your breasts, letting them weigh heavy in his palms.

His lecherous scrutiny has you shivering.

“You let anyone touch these?”

The question startles you as does the sensation of Choso rolling your stiffened peaks between his knuckles before giving them a cruel tug. 

You sniffle as you shake your head ‘no’, trying not to whine and still unable to speak from him pounding your vocal cords raw. 

Choso grins knowingly as his hands fondle your plush mounds, kneading the supple flesh and pushing them together before the steamy cavern of Choso’s mouth consumes both at once. The bar of his pierced tongue swirled between your hardened buds, lapping, slurping and nibbling. Squirming you arch back deeper into his mouth and grind your soaked lil cunny on his rapidly stiffening length. Your hands cling to his pigtails for any semblance of an anchor keeping you from tumbling backwards. 

Spurred on by your shuddering cries Choso withdraws from your swollen peaks with a pop and licks up the string of spit that cobwebs between them. His tongue flattens licking each one dutifully as he watches as your jaw slacks from pleasure.

You’ve been so deprived of his touch. You could cum from just a bit more of this.

Yet Choso’s lips don’t stop traveling your body, even higher this time to adorn your decolletage with searing hickies. 

Uncaring if they actually showed up to brand your skin or not.

Choso only needs you to feel them bruise beneath your flesh.

That way you wouldn’t so soon forget exactly who you belonged to.

“And what about my bratty lil’ pussy, princess? I know how needy she is. You let one of those frat fuckers inside her?”

His hot heady breaths puff out to curl around your earlobe, leaving the severely neglected spot in between your thighs throbbing at her mention. 

You think you might actually die if he ignores your cunt for much longer. 

Your thong is utterly drenched. More arousal trickles onto his lap as his muscular hands settle back on your hips. 

“N-no!”

Sounding more like a croaked plea, your voice is barely above a whisper from the hoarseness that settled in your throat.

“W-Waited f-for you Cho.” 

“Then show me.”

Plug!Choso who has you even more intoxicated off the thought of him giving you a pussy inspection. 

He has nearly succeeded in domesticating you and your arms wrap around him submissively as you moan unabashedly into his neck. 

Choso muses he should have handled your snobby ass like this sooner and saved himself some trouble. 

Lifting you, Choso rises from the bed. 

You haven’t realized you’ve moved at all until you crash into the edge of your vanity, shaking the table with a thud. Rattled, you look back, giving Choso the leverage he needs to spin you around. Dizzy from the sudden movement, your arms fly out—scattering bottles of makeup and perfume as you grasp at the wooden tabletop. 

The items roll on the floor in tandem with Choso rolling his hips up against you. You release a loud mewl from his hard erection teasingly poking into your ass.

Thinking only with your pussy, your impatient pleas are met with another slap to the ass. The increased weight behind his hand this time leaves your nerve endings sizzling. 

You were gonna be such a sweet girl by the time he was done with you.

However, he wouldn’t torture you for too much longer. 

Despite his cold authoritarian demeanor, the image of shoveling his cock deep into your creamy cunny after so long of only jerking to the memory has him about to lose it. Grasping the front of your hips, Choso jerks you flush against his pelvis. You fall forward until your cheekbone is smooshed into the vanity’s mirror and his thick bulge molding itself in-between your cheeks

“Stay just like that for me, yeah baby? Hands on the mirror, they better not fuckin’ leave either.”

You position your hands obediently and Choso, as if praising you, tenderly gifts lustful kisses down your spine while he pampers your reddening bottom with gentle caresses. 

“Good fuckin’ girl, princess.”

The more feral his nature, the more like his prey you became. Choso licentiously inspects your body—gripping, sniffing, and nipping at your heated skin until he is level with your ass. 

You whimper as Choso rips your fishnets ripping them open, admiring the indents on your skin from the jeweled tights before burying his face between your squishy cheeks. 

His nose salaciously nuzzles against the soaked material stuck to your barely covered hole and he releases a hot guttural sigh, purring into your pussy. 

Always a fiend for dining on your cunt, Choso is brimming with contentment from your juices leaking onto his face. This may have been your punishment but it was also his reward as the taste of your filthy lil plum never failed to drive him wild—often opting to spend most of the night with his face between your hips, he’d still cum plenty times from just thrusting into the air as he let you ride his face.

Licking his lips, Choso’s tongues traces the pattern of your thong and sucks your juices from the saturated fabric. You’re both loudly moaning now—Choso from the saccharine flavor of your cunt and you from the sweet relief of the hot languid strokes of his skillful tongue.

Choso might have lost himself in that moment of finally getting to taste you again. His eyes roll back at how you lewdly leak through your soaked thong.

All for him. 

You were still his even after all this time.

However, it's your own hastiness that reminds him your penance is worth more than his own pleasure when your ass wiggles impatiently lowering onto his face when Choso’s tongue piercing starts drawing lazy circles around your sensitive lil pearl.

“C-Cho, n-need you…puh-lease s’not fair—”

Determined to control every sensation he gives to you and holding you in place, Choso scolds you.

“Fair? Nah, know what’s not fair, princess?”

His lips move closer to ghost over your ass causing goosebumps to rise over the warm tender skin.

“You actin like a bitch for a whole fuckin’ month and keeping all this good pussy away from me.”

You shudder when his teeth sink into your jiggly flesh causing you to yelp and rock against the vanity.

You’d get more pleasure when he wanted you to. 

Choso would screw that lesson into you soon enough. 

“Fuck—the only thing sweet about you is this lil’ pussy. You’re such a brat but she's so honest. Then again—maybe it's your slutty lil’ pussy that’s actually the brat, thinking she runs shit because of how good she is at milking cock, yeah?”

Choso confirms his suspicions upon peeling your soaked thong to the side. Strings of your arousal practically glue the material to your cunt. Not hesitating to make more of a mess of you, he illicitly hawks globes of his spit into your already dripping lil’ hole eagerly winking at him.

“Let’s see what this slutty cunt has to say for herself, hm?”

Choso places a chaste kiss over your entrance before driving two fingers straight in. Your hands leave streaks down the mirror as you perspire, fogging up the glass with your breathy cries.

Speeding up his pace he digs the pads of his fingers into your walls, searching until they run over a spongy hard spot and he has to fight to keep a hand on your lower back to hold you in place.

God you were virgin-tight again. 

Before ignoring you, Choso had only ever gone three days without fucking you and even then you’d been crying from his tip just stretching the entrance of your taut lil pussy. 

In the past, Choso would have taken his time with you. He knew he needed to work you open more so you wouldn’t be sore tomorrow, and yet his cock throbbed to life again so urgently he couldn't restrain himself for much longer.

That’d be something you’d just have to fucking deal with. 

This was all your fault after all. 

Plug!Choso who wouldn’t let you deprive him of his pussy for any longer—however, he was still going to make you beg for it.

“Tell me what you want, princess.”

Choso rips the thong clean off your ass cheeks. 

Leaving you exposed bare in your fishnets he rises up to lean over you. His moist breath trickles electricity down your spine as his bricked length roughly pipes between your cheeks. 

“Nghh…w-want your c-cock…”

“Whose cock—so you know me now, princess?—Choso is that it?” 

Choso mocks your voice with the hurtful words you hurled at him during the garden brunch. Gliding his girth to prod over your entrance and miss its mark intentionally. 

“Pleeaseee—C-Choso-C-Choso-C-Choso.” 

The pleas of his name slur together as your attention solely focuses on how his leaky shaft lathers your already dripping folds in his pre. 

“That’s right princess…now tell me who am I to you?”

Choso reaches around to swat at your swollen clit. 

You cry out as your body slick with sweat jolts up violently. Choso has to throw more of his weight onto you to keep you from slipping off the vanity entirely.

You could have actually fallen to the floor without noticing as the fuzzy feeling in your brain intensifies, too much is happening all at once. Your intoxicated thoughts swirl in its attempt to work out the finer details of your relationship with Choso—details you likely wouldn't have been able to answer even while completely sober.

Who was Choso to you?  

Well, frankly, right now he was technically nothing. You had never previously defined your relationship and hadn’t had any communication at all over the last month until just a few days ago.

Your dealer? Friend? Casual hookup? Situationship? 

By and large, it had been your fault that you’d never discussed it. You actively ran from any complicated conversations or pulled away whenever Choso proposed something that would be too close to affirming your status. 

You also knew how much Choso liked you, especially from how he’d blush when other parents in Yuji’s class would mistake the two of you for a couple. 

You weren’t a couple though—even if you acted like you were behind closed doors. 

Even so, you knew how he made you feel when you were with him and knew what you wanted him to be to you now. 

That was enough.

Goddamnit.

Your body threatens to explode from the vulnerability of your exposed emotions pricking at your every nerve while you work up the courage to say it. 

This admission was somehow even harder than confessing you loved him—which had honestly been relatively easy in comparison as you were so upset you would have done anything at that moment to make him stay. 

Face on fire, you clasp your eyes shut—as if not looking at Choso in the mirror means he somehow can’t hear the words that stumble out of you.

“M-My boyfriend!”

Silent tears fall as you fear his reaction, you’ve never been the one to lay your feelings on the line first.

Had you really missed your chance to be with him?

Would he just fuck you and leave after?

Choso remains silent as his hands glide up your sides, feeling you tremble under his touch. He lifts your torso, pulling you to his chest possessively. Choso’s arms encircle you as they weave between your breasts and he licks a stray tear away. 

Now you have the most lewd, yet perfectly unhindered, view of his hefty mushroom tip as it quickly slots through your puffed folds to ram into your clit.

The wide grin on his features is evident as your face crumples and pleasurable sobs rupture from you. Choso rests the side of his face against your neck as he takes in your smell, giving you a chaste kiss and savoring how much his body is scenting yours.

“Oh? You asking me out, princess? Well, I’m flattered you finally asked, but that's not exactly the answer I was looking for—”

A feverish chill spreads across your skin and you’re shivering as he locks eyes with you in the mirror.

“—as it’s certainly not what you will be calling me when I’m pushing your kidneys back.”

Choso’s hands lazily roam your body while he continues to sneak his length through your thighs. You unconsciously arch back to rest your nape on his shoulder, allowing him better access to touch you.

So he wasn’t talking about your relationship status after all?! 

Still the devious smile on Choso’s face tells you he intentionally misled you with his phrasing nonetheless. 

“So—who am I?”

The cocky tone in his voice makes it clear exactly what he wants you to call him—and you’d say it—you just need to work up the nerve first.

Unfortunately for you Choso’s patience for your bratty ass had long since depleted.

“Tch, yo we can stop then if—”

You snapped the moment you felt his hands leave you.

“NO, DADDY!” 

“I’ll be a good girl Daddy…s’good. I-I promise puh-leaseee put it in—please—need you, Daddy!”

There was no way in hell Choso would have left without sticking his dick in you but he knew that you were too hard up right now to even dream of calling his bluff.

“That’s right princess. I’m your Daddy. Now show Daddy that arch baby.”

Plug!Choso who smirks into your skin as he tastes you. The sting from a tiny love bite blossoming as he manhandles you back down onto the table’s surface when your already cockdrunk mind doesn’t have you moving fast enough.

“But you’re still actin’ up a lil baby—so you gonna have to put this dick in yourself, got it?”

Choso hums at your dizzy babbles of confirmation, slipping his thumbs over your chubby pussy lips to spread you open. Choso is in awe of how slutty your cunt looked, clenching around nothing but the webs of your own arousal and practically screaming to be busted open wider by his cock.

Catching his tip on your entrance, Choso stalls as he has to chew the inside of his own cheek to resist not thrusting into you completely—you’d do the rest from here. 

Choso was just glad you weren't looking in the mirror to see how hard his abs were trembling. 

Exhaling shaky breaths, you ease back onto him, gingerly sinking down his length. Your kitten nails fitfully scratch at the table just from the stretch of just getting his wide mushroom tip inside. 

SHIIIIT-SHIIIT-SHIIIT—Too much! 

You grit your teeth, he’s so big stretching the walls of your cunt to the degree that your walls actually try to push him out when you flex. However, Choso’s hands are digging into your hips to secure you in place. He’s not helping nor hindering you—but he isn’t letting you run any either.

Your knees knock against the vanity, trembling this much and he's only halfway in. 

“Come on, princess…”

Choso coos gently as he rubs circles into the small of your back with his thumbs, coaxing you to relax. 

The dichotomy between Choso’s treatment erratically switching in severity leaves you reeling. You're on edge with heightened arousal, never sure if his next words or touch would be rough or soothing yet either way it leaves you wanting more of him—anything he’d give, you’d take. 

But right now you need him to have a lil mercy on you. 

Tears brim your wide eyes as you pout and look at him through the mirror, pleading with him.

“Puh-leaseeee Cho—m’daddy…help me?”

Your pitiful submission has Choso cracking. His need to ruin you after so long winning over his want to delay your pleasure along with everything else.

Sighing, Choso relents.

“You know, I spoil you too much, princess…s’why you’re so rotten now.”

No sooner had he finished speaking did he hastily slam into you. Your wet warmth completely sucks him in whole and wraps around him so sinfully he has to dig his blunted nails deeper into your hips to keep from immediately painting your walls white.

God, he really was so incredibly weak for your perfect lil’ pussy.

Grunting, Choso sets an unrelenting tempo as he continues to rail into your cervix, each bruising thrust was him reminding you of every time you ignored him—pretended you didn’t know him—told people you were just friends—and for making him even love someone as mean and bratty as you in the first place.

Grabbing onto the clothing bunched at your waist for leverage, Choso pistoning his hard length in and out of you felt like he was ripping your guts out along with it. 

Gathering together a coherent thought right now was impossible. It’s so good but so intense your body reflexively reaches a hand back, frantically pressing against his abs to slow him.

Choso growls, stilling your hand behind your back while his other springs out to pin your head on the table. 

You were blocking his view of how your ass rippled every time he pounds his cock deeper into your cunt.

He just needed you to be good and take it. 

And take it you did.

Choso fucks you so hard your vanity table creaks and repeatedly slams into your wall causing the entire room to shake. Your mind goes blank as if his cock controls the very flow of blood in your body. Surging tingling sensations electrifying your veins when the curve of his length knocks his albert piercing so aggressively against your cervix. 

Your gooey walls build up so much pressure around his thickness that white spots edge your vision so very close to your nirvana.

“Don’t even think about cumming until I say so my slutty lil’ princess—hold that shit for daddy.”

But there was no way you couldn’t and just as you are at the very edge of your bliss Choso rips it away from you, halting once again to still inside of you.

“Mmmm no please-please-puhleeease let me cum Choso! Please fuck me right Daddy!” 

Plug!Choso, who as much as he wants to edge you past your limits, really pulled out because he also needs to calm down. Choso removes his shirt overhead as the heat in the room has skyrocketed to near sweltering. 

Even unmoving inside you, your pussy still flexes around him like crazy. You weren’t on birth control so he never came inside you, not even once before. Pulling out normally to release over your stomach, ass or tits and wearing a condom on days it wasn't as safe. 

Although he desperately wants to cum inside you, to really mark you as his, could he risk it? 

It would be so stupid and so irresponsible, going far beyond any punishment. 

You still had a year of school left.

He couldn't knock you up. 

Then again you didn't need to go to classes physically—you could take them online. 

Pushing his more debased and wicked thoughts aside, ultimately Choso reigns himself in. He didn’t even want to put you in that position. He’d support you regardless, but he’d admittedly die inside if you decided not to have his child. 

“S-Shit! C-Cho the door!” 

Seeing the sliver of hallway light cast into your dimly lit room, you realize now that you must have forgotten to lock it. This was an old house and your door had the habit of coming open easily from just some minor movement in your room if left unlocked. 

Choso fucking you like he hated you was surely enough to knock it loose.  

Unfortunately for you though, Choso didn’t give a fuck. 

Abruptly snapped out of his perverse breeding fantasies, Choso’s feral eyes, tinged red from his high meet your frantic ones in the mirror.

“No.”

The renewed vigor of his cock plowing through you again strangles any protests, gagging you on them as you feel him back in your throat from the intensity. 

“Nah princess, let them all hear how hard you sob on this loser’s cock while he fucks some manners into you.”

And sob you did. It was difficult to do anything else really as him moving inside you again had your body buzzing more than from your actual high. 

“It doesn’t matter, cause I am about to fuck you so hard even the walls downstairs start shaking—”

Choso’s heavy balls slap against your clit when he kicks his thrusts up a notch and hitches your leg up on the vanity. 

“—n’when they discover us there’s no way they will even want a cockdrunk brat who lets her ‘weirdo burnout stalker’ get her high and fuck her stupid as a president.”

Your mind, clearly ruined by his dick thinks that might not actually be so bad. 

“Shit, you tightened up baby, you actually want someone to find us? See how good I slut you out, yeah?”

Honestly, the harder he thrusted inside you the less you cared—about anything.

School. 

The sorority. 

Your presidency. 

None of it made you feel anywhere near as fulfilled as you were right now with Choso’s thick girth ripping through you. 

The walls quake even more violently. 

The soggy clicking sounds from your soaked cunt almost reach the volume of your crazed screams for him to fuck you even harder. 

Choso was so fucking close again, he was beginning to lose reason.

“F-Fuck it—should I cum in you, princess? I’ll even let you cum too this time.”

Your brain on a mission to cum, fucked so smooth by his fat cock, could care less as long as you got to cum too. 

Oh fuck, just a lil more and you would—

“—PREZ! Did you get the goods or not? We wanna start roll—”

On her phone texting, Brianna—who is pretty fucked up herself—did not even register that the sex noises came from your room. Thinking Choso had left already and sure you were up here salty about her ‘stealing him away’. 

All the color drains from Brianna’s face as she drops her phone as well as her red solo cup filled with spiked seltzer, splashing on her outfit as well as the floor. 

Through the mirror's reflection, she can see the pleasurable agony painted all over your face from getting your cheeks clapped into oblivion by the obvious third leg Choso was packing. Your eyes to the ceiling, heaving out wails as your tongue hangs out of your mouth waging with every thrust Choso carves into your guts. The clicking sound of his cock stirring up your tight lil’ pussy echoes throughout your room. 

“OH MY GAWD! So it was true? You’re actually fucking him??? OHMYGAWDOGMYGAWD they aren’t going to believe this!”

Cockdrunk and stupified you couldn’t give even a piece of a fuck. Honestly, you wouldn't have even noticed her if Choso didn’t stop again. 

No, No, No. You were so sick of being edged! Not after he finally was going to let you cum. 

This can’t be happening right now.

You couldn’t take it anymore. 

You needed to cum so bad. 

Your vision is blurry with moisture caught in your lashes as you push yourself up. Grasping onto the edge of the tabletop you used it as leverage to weakly fuck yourself back onto him, doing the work this time if he wouldn’t.

You wouldn’t let Brianna’s ass of all people prevent you from having the orgasm you’ve been fiending over a fucking month for.  

“I jushh w-wanna cum! Pleasssh, wanna-cum-wanna-cum…”

You chant out shamelessly. Your desperate whines stunning both Choso and Brianna. 

Candidly, both thought you'd be horrified enough to stop. 

Choso especially, as even after everything tonight wouldn’t have been shocked if the mortification of actually being caught had you kicking him out.

“Heh.”

Are you actually choosing him for once?

Choso wasn’t going to let the moment pass without finding out—that’s for fuckin’ sure.

The smack he delivers to your cheeks grab your attention as you bellow out more cries. You’re still pathetically trying to get off with your weakened thrusts back. It wasn’t nearly enough to get you off—but better than the burning that threatens to incinerate you whole if you stopped.

“Hey Princess, I’ll let you cum just lemme know something first, yeah?”

You nod your head longingly, dizzy with need.

“Tell this bitch whose dick is this?”

For the first time that night, you answered without missing a beat.

“M-Mine m’daddy, its m-mine!”

You pant breathlessly, still trying to rock yourself back on him but you aren't quite hitting the spot. 

Your eyes lock with Brianna’s through the mirror’s reflection yet you are looking straight through her—your eyes vacant as you could only think of Choso’s cock. 

Your cock.

“Nah don’t look at that bitch, look at me princess.”

Not hesitating, your eyes snap over to him.

“Good fucking girl—and whose pussy is this?” 

“You–YOU CHOSO! Please Daddy—please it's s’good, I need it! Please fuck me Daddy!”

Choso turns to Briana who is frozen in place—her eyes are wider than saucers—as she realizes she’s lost.

Reaching over you he grabs an ounce bag and tosses it near her hitting the floor by her feet. Brianna hesitates though, causing Choso to growl impatiently. 

He’d proved his point, now he wanted this bitch gone.

“Yo Gouda—you a voyeur or somethin’?”

Brianna jumps when Choso addresses her quickly shaking her head ‘no’. 

“Then get the fuck up outta here bitch—MOVE!”

In her haste, Brianna slips on the spilled alcohol as she scrambles to quickly snatch up the weed and her alcohol-soaked phone. The door slams shut as she scurries out the door.

Plug!Choso who has lost all desire to punish you. He only wants to be able to see your face twist in pleasure when he finally lets you have your sweet euphoric release.

In a flash, he’s moving you again. Choso swoops you up and tosses you onto the bed, hurriedly making sure the door is locked this time before kicking off his pants and crawling on top of you. 

“Shhhh princess, you did so good baby, m’gonna let you cum. Gonna have you creaming so hard on this cock, s’your cock baby—you earned it.”

Choso is slurring his words as he peppers your body with blood buzzing kisses to hush your anguished whimpers while he peels the remaining clothes off your body. Not being sheathed inside you is killing him just as much, yet he longs to touch your silky skin unimpeded against his own.

“Been taking me s’gud baby, c’mere…”

The both of you now bare, Choso wastes no time plunging back into your heated core, your heels digging into his back at the intensity. 

Damn—you’re so perfect.  

Allowing himself to let go, his mind shatters as Choso melts into your gooey lil’ cunny. 

His lips are desperate to find yours and Choso is no longer able to withhold himself from sinking into a pussydrunk state. Uncaring for any more displays of dominance, the kiss you share is hurried and sloppy causing your thoughts to splinter. 

Your mind fragments into increasingly smaller pieces of incoherency the more frantic Choso’s kiss becomes. His teeth clash with yours and graze over your swollen lips, unable to control himself as he fitfully bruises your clit from the blunt thrusts of his pelvic bone.

Tears glaze your eyes blinding you from the creamy stickiness at Choso’s hilt that splash between your bodies. The musky fluids flow all over your puffed lil’ pussy to drizzle past his aching balls to puddle on your sheets.

“L-Live with me—with me n’ Yuji—FUHHCKKpussysogood—y-you ain’t gotta be here anymore, princess.”

Choso’s forehead rests against yours and his dick twitches inside of you like crazy from the ridges of his thick engorged cock scraping against every nerve in your cunt.

“Be with us, baby. Be our family. I-I–SHIIIIIT—I love you so-much-so-much.”

All of his bravado strips away and there’s just the soft Choso you knew once again. The one who would do anything for you, the one who made your stomach flip and your heart stop—you didn’t want to go through life anymore without him in yours.

“Y-Yes! I wanna—ah fuhhhh—s’gud l-love you D-Daddy!”

Overwhelmed with emotion for you and knowing he would come soon, Choso reaches a shaky hand between you to roughly smash his palm into your sensitive lil’ bud. The soaked slick from your bodies causes his movements to jerk erratically and your hips involuntarily thrash against him.

Choso screws his eyes shut, your bodies so wet he nearly slips off of you in his single-minded focus to make you cum. He has to be ready to pull out of you as soon as you do or he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from shooting all of his cum in you—yet that’s exactly what your fucked out lil’ pussy wants. 

“C-Cum—cum in me Daddy…”

Your voice is barely above a whisper as you almost fade out of consciousness from the sublime shockwaves that erupt over your body as you are nearly at the peak of your climax.

Choso’s hips falter, almost in a more fucked out condition than you. He nearly dumped his entire load into you then but his last sliver of sanity held out.

“SHIIIIIT—P-Princess—Do ya even know what y’er s-saying to me right now?” 

Time slows, your hand cups his face staring with conviction as best you could into his dark aubergine eyes as your other weakly directs the palm pressing on your clit to rest on your belly.  

“Cum in me Choso—I-I wouldn’t mind having a baby if it's yours.” 

Oh fuck… 

And with that your knees were by your ears and your ankles dangle off his shoulders. 

Sure, you were intoxicated on many substances—his dick included and as much as you may have just been talking shit at this moment Choso doesn’t care anymore.

You’d told him you’d have his baby and it’s all his pussydrunk mind can process.

Like a puppy Choso whimpers his groans keen sharply out of him as his tongue dangles to drip slobber down your neck. He’s reverting back to the sloppy whiny mess you know him to be when hes fucked himself out from treating your drooling hole like a well-loved pocket pussy.

“MHMMM FUCK!”

The knot inside you twists impossibly tighter, straining your nerves until it finally snaps sending shockwaves through you. You lose yourself in nonsensical cries as your worn battered body convulses uncontrollably, creaming around his cock. 

If your brain hadn’t shut down at this very moment—only filled with the white noise of your searing orgasm—you might be worried Choso just broke your bed. The creaking fills the room as the sound of metal bending is apparent although neither of you are concerned.

“—s’gonna be OK, mmm-FUCK—m’gonna take care of you, love you—we’ll be a real family then, you, me, yuji—n’our baby!”

You don’t even hear him as you’re on autopilot now. The red streaks your kitten nails scratch across his muscular shoulders urge him on like the squelching sounds of your squirt gushing out of you and wet smacks of his balls colliding with your ass.

Overstimulating your senses, Choso sweeps you up into another all consuming kiss. The mind-numbing aftershocks of your blissful tremors leaves your tongue limp as his mouth hungrily devours yours. When Choso finally releases, his hot seed pumps into your tummy as his body writhes on top of yours. 

The mind numbing aftershock of your euphoric release continues as Choso proceed to fuck more and more of his thick ropes of his cum into you. He doesn’t show signs of slowing down but your body on the other hand fades, giving into the comforting gratification of sleep after having your guts rearranged. 

“O-one more time, p-princess—pleaseeee.”

Your thankful at that moment you’ve previously told Choso you didn’t mind somnophilia and gave him the free use pass to fuck you while you slept. You rarely actually could even stay asleep with how hard he would end up railing you but there was a first time for everything with your cunt finally content and full after so long your exhaustion drags you into a deep slumber. 

Plug!Choso who tightly cuddles you to him as you both sleep. The two of you twisted up like a pretzel in a mess of limbs with you practically smashed between Choso and the wall. 

Your XL twin bed clearly wasn't meant to comfortably fit two people like this. 

You’re still mostly asleep though, softly groaning as the cheery morning sun pierces through your thin curtains. You move to throw a pillow over your face only to discover you cannot budge. 

However, you can't say you weren’t used to waking up like this. Choso was always a hardcore cuddler. You missed the mornings you’d wake overheated and skin to skin. Your legs would find themselves intertwined just like this. 

Somehow, Choso would always find a way to fuse the both of your bodies together where every part of him was touching some piece of you.

Typical…

The sleepy thought drifts through your brain, sensing it's still far too early for you to wake up. Wanting to drift back to sleep you burrow your face deeper into his chest, stiffening when your mind does the very opposite and wakes up enough to recall the events of the previous night.

Sobering quickly in the daylight, a sinking feeling begins to suffocate your heart. The now familiar guilt you’ve accumulated over the past month amplifies the hangover etching itself behind your eyes. 

You can’t help but panic as the memories from the night before come rushing back. 

There was still so much uncertainty. 

Having been utterly humbled for the first time in your life you can’t stop the self doubt that questions if he’d even meant everything he said last night—you were both lit as hell. 

You’d meant it though.

Your heart seizes at the thought that this might be the last time you’d wake up in his arms. Before you know it you are crying again trembling as you try not to wake Choso up with your silent tears.

You are quiet enough but Choso is also a light sleeper and stirs awake at the small fit you’re having.

“H-Hey, morning princess *yawns*—wait, what's wrong?”

His tired eyes are full of loving concern as Choso cups your face wiping away your tears before bringing you into his chest, tightening his hand on your head.

“Shit, was I too rough on you last night princess? Fuck, I know how much all this shit means to you I—”

You interrupt Choso, you can’t let him beat himself up over you any longer.

“N-No, Cho—”

Sniffling, you break away from his hold just enough to maneuver yourself to meet his tired eyes. 

You mentally kick yourself—you hated being such a crybaby now but you couldn't help it. You were left feeling so vulnerable after being stripped of all pretenses the night before—it all just started pouring out of you— 

“—d-did you mean it? W-What you said? Cause I—I meant what I said. I-I wanna be with you and Yuji. C-Cook breakfast and f-fall asleep watching movies and go to all his games with you—I’ll never miss another game and—and—”

“Bet.”

Wait…huh?

Even after last night you half-still expect him to be upset with you, you’d still expected you’d have to beg. 

You’re left speechless.

“Bet. Let’s pack up your shit then, princess.”

Choso’s bright grin is near blinding to your weary gaze. 

“I meant everything I said, I could never lie to you.”

Giving you a tender kiss on your forehead, he forces you to look him in the eyes. Choso takes in all your looks of uncertainty before melting them away, softly cooing affirmations with his lips fluttering over yours. You’re so needy for his touch as you wrap your arms around his neck to bring him even closer.

Not being able to resist your body’s calls for him, you soon find yourself underneath Choso who rubs his morning wood against your core still soaked with his essence from the night before.

Choso smirks down at you, the cockiness back in his voice.

“What I say before? You’re my family—Fuck those bitches and fuck your parents—I got you.”

Plug!Choso, who doesn’t know what time it is but knows he has to go pick up Yuji from his friends soon. He also doesn’t know if he should expect your nosy ass sorority sisters to barge in again. Still, that doesn’t stop him from sinking into your sopping heat once more, never taking his lips off of you. 

Unlike the fervor of last night, his strokes are slow. The anger and intensity are gone, but the passion still remains simmering under your skin. Choso is savoring every bit of you as he devours your mewls, drinking them down along with any lingering unsureties. 

But, fuck—he doesn't feel like he’ll be able to keep himself from cumming inside you from now on. Not when you’d be living with him and Yuji, acting all domestic like. 

Images of a would-be future with you swirl in his mind—you pregnant, giggling at Yuji when he jumps in surprise from feeling the baby kick—your belly growing so large you had to cradle a hand underneath when you adorably waddled from room-to-room—the day of delivery when you both finally get to meet the child you cr—

—MUTHRFUUUUH!

Choso’s eyes roll towards the ceiling as he whines loudly, his whole body is shivering along with his premature release. Buckets of his viscous seed slosh in your womb with every sloppy stutter of his hips, pushing the mass overflow of his cum out of your swollen hole and down the crack of your ass.

Fucking you through his overstimulation, your cries only fuel his intent to impregnate you. The want for the sensual intimacy that slow fucking brings after a reconciliation being overtaken by the intense primal urge to put a baby in your belly.

There was no need for any additional vocalizations of affection when Choso is so adamantly reciprocating your feelings, his creamy cum filling you with promises of his devotion which he fucks even deeper into your womb. 

You aren’t able to recall the last time you felt this satisfied. Working so hard to meet everyone else’s standards was exhausting and you didn’t regret your choice.

You had no plans now other than being with Choso. 

And contrary to the dread of what you had previously thought deviating off course would be like—it frees you. You love and trust Choso enough to let go of all of it and just let life take you where it would.

You’d be content as long as you have him and Yuji. 

Choso knows this yet even so, he is still on a mission to add a fourth to your new little family sooner rather than later. 

He knew you were speaking of the future when you said you’d have his kid the night before but—why delay the inevitable? 

Choso needed to fill you up at least 2 more times before he’d let you leave this bed—no matter how many of your sorority sisters would walk in—they could watch for all he cares.

Yeah at this rate you’d definitely be pregnant by the start of school next year.

Shit, he’d have to go buy a ring soon.

⋙ how was that? holy hell i think this is the longest fic i've written lol. i wanted to take my time with this because although brat taming isn't hard i still wanted to capture the essence of choso. he can be mean enough to do it he's definitely going to internally struggle a bit and be our whiny feral lil baby gworl at the end lol.

taglist will be in a reblog in the morning. needed to get this out and then go to bed. i might also edit it a bit as well. as some of it wasn't proofed.

reblogs and comments so appreciated, i wanna know what u think, send me asks too!

[alchemistc]

She's not ...entirely sure this is a good idea.

Even as she raises her hand to knock she's second guessing herself.

The thing is - the thing is there aren't a lot of people in her life who don't take one look at her and make assumptions. She's petite, she's blonde, her face is eerily symmetrical.

When people see her, they think they know her.

Cap is great. The sort of man she wishes she'd known more of, growing up. The kind of man who stood in front of the entire crew and doled out cleaning duties and cooking duties to his men and didn't blink an eye handing her inventory, but pulled aside a guy six years into the job to inform him that if he made a snide comment about having to do Mona's job again he'd be looking for a new station. Respectfully.

The kind of man who let his crew cut loose and created a kind of family behind those bay doors, but didn't take their shit when they got out of hand

The kind of man who looked at her and just saw another firefighter.

Cap is great.

It's just...

Well, the guys don't go to Cap for advice, and she knows once upon a time that kind of hurt his feelings, but this feels like one of those things his husband is better equipped to handle.

("It's because he's older, right?" Cap had asked once, failing miserably at holding in a pout while the team around him demolished the roast he'd obviously spent hours prepping the night before.

Fred had still had half a loaf of bread in his mouth when he explained that talking to their boss about their sex lives just felt like an HR nightmare.

"So you go to my boyfriend instead?")

Mona's still considering turning heel and leaving the way she came when she hears whistling around the side of the house, and before she can make a break for it, Cap's husband is rounding the corner of the porch, winding his hands in a grease rag, and he's catching sight of her, raising a brow, slowing his steps.

He must see the panicked look in her eye.

"I can turn back around and pretend you were never here," he murmurs, the slightest hint of a smile on his face, and Mona feels every ounce of flight just seep from her bones.

Yeah. Okay. She gets why the guys all think he's the one to go to when they've royally fucked something up.

There's an ease to him, a gentleness that she knows for a fact was hard fought.

"No, I..."

The brow ticks up a little more.

"I just found a new sour Evan won't touch with a ten foot pole, if you're gonna be here a minute," Tommy says, and any resistance left vanishes. Mona's been to enough of Cap's barbecues to know his husband always has the best beer in the county.

"Yeah, okay."

Tommy crosses the length of the porch and glances glumly at his greasy hands. "You mind grabbing the door? Evan throws a fit every time I leave fingerprints behind."

She's interrupting his day, she realizes. He's a weird sort of semi-retired - flies for the county sometimes during wildfire season, flips classic cars from their huge ass garage around the side of the house, spends a month teaching courses to new pilots every year out of state and it's always the crankiest they ever get to see Cap. People charter his chopper, sometimes, although lately it seems like he only keeps the thing around so he can take Cap up to watch spectacular sunsets because they're the most sickeningly perfect couple she's ever met.

Mona grabs the door. Shuffles in ahead of him when he shows no signs of moving, and makes her way down the hall to the kitchen because she's been here enough times by now not to feel as weird about how welcoming they both were right away.

He uses his rag to pull open the sink cabinet and grab the heavy duty soap from underneath to wash his hands.

The scent rolls over her in waves, throwing her back about fifteen years to her parents tiny little apartment over the shop, her father's rough and callused hands soaking under shitty water pressure, the grease under his fingernails he could never quite scrape clean.

Tommy tips a chin at the fridge. "Grab me one, too? Bottle openers on the side."

There's an ease to the way he says it, like this is a normal occurrence, like Mona's ever stepped foot across the threshold for anything that wasn't a station-wide get together. She supposes for him it probably is. At least a few of the guys act like he's their dad, wandering into the house without even bothering to knock, gathering around him when he shows up at the station like lost little puppies.

He's used to it.

He hums his thank you when she sets one of the bottles on the island beside him, and Mona glances around to distract herself while he's drying his hands.

A couple dozen pictures of Cap and Tommy, in various stages of their lives.

The fridge is plastered with pictures. A couple she recognizes as Cap's sister and brother-in-law, two adorable kids at their knees. A guy standing next to a kid wearing a cap and gown and leaning on two crutches. An older man she's lovingly heard Cap refer to as basically his dad - the reason they eat better at work than anyone has the right to. A couple she'd seen at the wedding, standing with a kid she remembers Cap staring at like he was seeing a ghost. There's so many people that she doesn't know, but - there's the station pictures too. Candids of the boys when they were living in the Captain's house, back when Cap first got here, when she'd still been a year and a half from graduating high school and didn't have a fucking clue what she wanted to do with her life. The Christmas that Fred had cursed them with the q-word and Tommy had spent the day in the station kitchen putting together a meal they'd all stuck around to eat after shift despite the exhaustion seeping into their bones, all of A shift crammed together around a tiny wobbly table to squeeze into the picture.

She gets stuck on the picture of the two of them in hard hats, building what she's pretty sure is the wrap around porch she's snuck a few cigarettes on when the house gets a little overwhelming. There's something about the way they're looking at each other that makes her want to cry, a little.

Fuck.

Damnit.

Tommy leans over to tap the picture with a grin. "We had a blowout fight the night before our buddy took this picture," he says, the deep grooves of his smile stretched wide across his face. "I'd left my job and sold my house six months earlier to chase him across the country and he was convinced if he didn't find a way to turn every half-thought-out desire of mine into a reality that I was gonna vanish in the night. He bought the lumber without telling me and I came home to him and his best friend ripping out the stairs to the front door."

Mona's instantly drawn in.

He makes them sound like a train wreck.

If she's got the math right, that was her senior year. She remembers seeing them around town and thinking they were annoyingly sweet. She remembers her mom baking Tommy a casserole for the excuse of getting all the gossip about the Captain's mysterious paramour so she had the upper hand at her book club that weekend.

Tommy taps another. The two of them under a pergola, the expressions on their faces so disgustingly smitten Mona remembers wanting to blow a raspberry in the middle of the ceremony. She'd been so convinced she'd never let herself be so fucking dependent on another person for her happiness.

"He kept it a secret that he'd invited my father to the wedding until the night before. I spent most of my night with a punching bag instead of Evan." He points out another photo from the wedding. "The photographer tried to murder me when she saw my knuckles. Evan could barely fit the ring over my finger."

"Who snitched?" Mona asks, narrowing her eyes, and Tommy grins, huffs a laugh. He gestures vaguely at her face.

"You've got the look," he tells her, which doesn't really explain a whole lot. "And none of Evan's crew ever makes their first visit anything but love life issues."

"It could be something else," Mona argues, gesturing with her beer, and one of his brows ticks up. "It's not, but it could be."

"You want something to eat? Evan's been experimenting with cakes again, and the red velvet white chocolate escaped the discards."

"Is my so called look that bad?"

He grins. "Mostly I'm looking for an excuse for cake before noon."

Christ, he's good at this. It's actually a little eerie, how quickly he's set her at ease. It's been over a year and the guys still call her prickly when they think she can't hear them, but she never calls them out on it because they're not wrong. It takes her forever to warm up to people.

"Is that how this usually works? You butter us up with Cap's food and get us to spill our guts?"

He's already digging plates from a cabinet next to the stove. She can't see his expression, but she can picture the grin on his face. "Usually they raid my fridge and put their feet up on my coffee table before I've fully registered that they're here. It's sort of a novelty to get to act like a host in my own home."

That checks out, if she's being honest. They're all a bunch of rabid animals who've been emboldened by Cap's open door policy and his infectious smile and his incredibly hot and talented husband. She's never quite sure if the guys want to be him or screw him - not that Tommy's ever looked twice at anyone who wasn't Cap.

"I think I'm broken," Mona admits, the words coming out in a rush, her eyes on the dutch oven tucked under one of the wide kitchen windows.

Tommy slides a slice of fucking delicious looking cake her way and takes a swig of his beer. Waits.

Mona reaches for the fork and spills her guts.

---

"Oh, hey Mo," Cap says, stumbling his way over the threshold, eyes lighting on his husband and his expression going gooey.

Tommy broke into the rack of Banquet's an hour ago and Mona's pretty sure she's one with the couch. It's a good couch. When she'd told Tommy so twenty minutes ago there'd been a gleam in his eye she didn't understand.

She's still a little too buzzed to worry about the fact that she's oozing into the cushions and emotionally wrecked. She hasn't cried in front of another human being in at least six years. Tommy's probably a wizard, or something.

"Everything good?" Cap asks, and she knows that they've got a sort of agreement - unless Tommy thinks something is gonna affect the work, whatever Tommy talks about with them doesn't reach Cap's ears.

"Men," Mona huffs, and Cap pauses, shoots another look into the living room.

"Yeah. Men."

"No Cap. Men," she repeats, and he nods, a corner of his mouth quirking up.

"Oh. Men," he enunciates, and Mona feels the scowl on her face grow wider when the two of them share a sappy look. It's super fucking inconvenient to be surrounded by the proof of true fucking love when she's trying to convince herself she's already too jaded to find it. "If you wanna stay for dinner I can tell you the story of the time Tommy tried to leave me because he thought he could make my decisions for me."

Even Tommy's scowl is sappy as hell. It's gross. Shes having a hard time convincing herself it's not the best thing she's ever seen.

She tips her neck against the back of the couch to glance up at him. "Who snitched?"

Cap's laugh filters through the room, and right across from her, where the whole world and Mona can see, Tommy's expression goes warm and vulnerable, like the sound has soothed a few decades of wounds. "Word of advice? Never leave Harry with a secret and a crowded room."

[luvhughes43]

BOYFRIEND | quinn hughes

[luvhughes43 masterlist🌙]

based off the song boyfriend by ariana grande

summary: every summer without fail you and quinn fall back into old habits... you two aren't official but the feelings are there.

word count: 3.4k

i'm a motherfuckin' train wreck i don't wanna be too much but i don't wanna miss your touch and you don't seem to give a fuck

all of your life you had four loves. there was shitty reality television, your home state-michigan, your summers at your familys lake house, and then there was quinn hughes.

you had always loved him even if you hadn't recognized it yourself. back then, both of your parents would make little comments about how they're going to end up together one day! but when you stayed in michigan and quinn moved to vancouver everything changed.

when quinn left school to pursue hockey you assumed that your friends with benefits situation would fizzle out. but it hadn't. and so youre left wanting as you watch the brunet boy trapeze around his backyard - greeting boys he'd seen countless times over the hockey season while you were stuck at school.

when you finally do catch this eye, he waltz over with a shit-eating grin. "hey, haven't seen you in awhile," he teases, pulling you under his impressive arm. you stumble into his side with practice ease and quinn tilts his head to look down your solo cup. "the fuck is that?"

you hold the cup over your head to where you assumed his lips would be, "i dont know jack made it - 'could be anything,"

quinn reaches for the cup and takes a measured sip. "that'll kill you," he winces, spilling the cups contents on the grass and tossing the cup along with it.

you sigh, peeved. quinn did this thing where he assumes he knows what's best. "i was actually drinking that,"

"yeah, yeah, i'll get you something else," he says distractedly as someone from across the yard flags him down.

just as quinns about to leave again you grab his arm and pull him back to you. even though you're embarrassed to ask you lower your voice and whisper, "when am i going to see you again?"

quinn pauses. "like, are we gonna..."

you remain silent, not wanting to say what you truly want. it was easier to hint at your forays instead of being honest about things. "i'll catch up with you tonight, promise" he kisses the underside of your wrist before shouting playfully to someone in the distance.

i don't wanna keep you waiting but i do just what i have to do and i might not be the one for you but you ain't about to have no boo

an hour later you wander inside the boy's house to grab yourself a refill. there was still no sign of quinn - and so you decide to unwind a little bit before the night truly got underway. every year the guys would host a party to reign in the end of the season. guys from across the country would travel and spend a week in michigan celebrating with packs of zyns, cases of beer, and endless rounds of golf.

"zyn?" trevor zegras says as he holds out a small white pouch towards you. you shake your head no and trevor shoves the circular box back into his short pockets.

"i heard he's single," a girl to your left whispers loudly to a group of her friends. trevors head turns instinctively,but you pay the group of girls no attention.

"ten bucks they're talking about me," trevor leans down and whispers.

"twenty bucks they're not," you announce back and then the two of you messily shake on it. you probably shouldn't have gone to jack for a refill on his concoction but quinn was taking too long so...

"well quinns hot so if he is single, i'll try it," you're not sure what it was exactly but your face heats up regardless. beside you, trevor groans and fishes his wallet out of his back pocket.

youre pretty sure he tries to hand you a wad of crumpled up ones but you were no longer paying attention to trevor or your bets. instead, your focus shifted to a gorgeous blonde hyping herself up to go and talk to your best friend.

'cause I know we be so complicated but we be so smitten, it's crazy i can't have what I want, but neither can you

"alright... i know they're wrinkled but cash is legal tender..." trevor trails off obnoxiously and thus you grab hold of his ten dollars clenching your fist.

"i'll see you later?" you call out distractedly, solely focused on the blonde approaching quinn across the room.

you ain't my boyfriend (boyfriend) and I ain't your girlfriend (girlfriend) but you don't want me to see nobody else and I don't want you to see nobody

it was wrong to use others for personal gain but you were sure there had to be an exception for making somebody jealous. plus, it wasn't like quinn was a saint either.

you vividly remember how quinn chatted up some girl in your class two years ago at a frat party. it was a shitty thing to do, considering how much you complained about that particular girls work ethic after she left you hanging on a group project.

the next morning, quinn had stopped by your apartment to apologize with a bouquet of peonies in hand. you had reluctantly forgiven him, but because the two of you weren't exactly exclusive the fight dissolved on your tongue before you could even properly fight about it.

"hey baby," you tease all your syllables - making sure the baby really rings out in tune. quinns smile doesn't falter at your emergence, instead, he grins as his attention turns from the blonde and onto you.

"y/n," he glances between you and the new girl. you'd have to work for his attention a little more than you'd like to tonight. "as i was saying..." quinn resumes his conversation with the girl slowly, trying his hardest to piss you off.

a tuft of dark black hair peeks it's way through your peripheral and your head immediately turns to find alex turcotte standing alone a few feet away. "turcs!" you call out in the same teasing tone you'd used on quinn and alexs attention is immediately focused on you.

"baby!" he yells jovially, and you could not have planned something better yourself. baby, was a nickname assigned to you after a particular summer in which you were obsessed with dirty dancing. you had pranced around the house to its soundtrack and forced anybody who was around to dance with you - all embarrassingly bad imitations of patrick swayze.

you dont turn to acknowledge quinns reaction but you imagine it as you sway your way over to alex. quinns face would be scrunched up in annoyance, and his eyes would darken just a tad to accompany his scowl. if there was one thing quinn hated more than he liked teasing you, it was you teasing him back.

"so strong!" you laugh loudly, gripping onto alex's arm. his hand brushes across your lower back and you smile brightly when he leaves it resting there.

"you really know how to work a guy, huh?" he laughs before removing his hand altogether. "what are you drinking?" he asks then, shifting tones dramatically from flirtatious to friends-since-childhood.

"i don't know jack made it," you hold the cup up to his face and he recoils with a scuff.

"you're going to be so sick tomorrow,"

you take a sip of your drink before glancing back in quinns direction. his dark eyes were still trained on you but the blonde was still at his side. flirting with alex was truly petty. both you and quinn knew nothing would ever come of it but it was still fun to get him riled up anyway.

but you ain't my boyfriend (boyfriend) and I ain't your girlfriend (girlfriend) but you don't want me to touch nobody else baby, we ain't gotta tell nobody

"want to get me something else?" you ask with a soft voice and you hope it carries to where quinns standing.

alex looks at you momentarily before shaking his head quickly. "uh, yeah, yeah let's go to the kitchen..." you take the lead in your venture to the kitchen and alex slinks his arm around your waist.

you barely make it out of the living room before quinn interrupts your path. "hey man, its been awhile," his smile is strained as he reaches a hand out to alex. the two greet each other and the flashes of disappointment on quinns face is evident when alex doesnt take his arm away from your body.

"where ya two heading?" he asks.

alex hits his solo cup against yours and a slosh of molten liquid rolls over the rim of your cup and onto your new white shoes. "this one needs a new drink. jack made her another one his his "concoctions,"" alex laughs easily but quinns face is entirely tense.

you stay silent.

"oh, i can take her," quinn says with a slight edge.

"it's no worries i can do it," alex assures him with a small smile. "i think jacks in the kitchen and i wanna say hello," he adds when quinn makes no move to back down.

"uh, i just saw him go outside actually," quinn states and you wonder if you should interrupt.

the two boys stare at each other tensely and alex drops his hand from your waist. "i'll see you later baby?" alex mutters lowly, and your head spins from whatever moment you just missed right there.

you nod dismissively to alex and watch in silence as he rapidly walks out of the living room. "what was that for?" you ask quinn as soon as you turn to face him. as expected, his eyebrows were scrunched together and his face show small signs of annoyance.

"you need a drink," is all quinn responds with, and you follow behind him slowly as he maneuvers his way through small crowds of people.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

your vodka cranberry was slowly spilling its contents onto quinns hardwood floor as it lay discarded.

"your floors getting all wet," you mumble against quinns lips the second the two of you pull apart. his hair was messy and his cheeks flush when he notices you staring.

"dont care," he huffs, pulling your hips flush against his own. "'been too long sine i've seen you last,"

you kiss his neck teasingly, "the wood will get ruined,"

quinn sighs and pulls away from you. he strips his shirt off and lets it fall atop your discarded solo cup. his confidence was something that had grown over the years and you were pleasantly delighted.

"thank you," you whisper to him as he slides his arms back against you. you wait for him to say something - mention what happened downstairs but quinn remains silent.

instead, he leads you backwards to his bed with well practiced ease. the games you two play were fun when they ended up like this, but at the same time you felt a twinge for something more.

even though you ain't mine, i promise the way we fight make me honestly feel like we just in love 'cause baby, when push comes to shove damn baby, i'm a train wreck, too (too) i lose my mind when it comes to you i take time with the ones I choose and I don't want to smile if it ain't from you, yeah

the sun streams through quinns open curtains, blinding him momentarily as his eyes adjust to the morning light. when everything comes into focus the first thing he notices is your figure curled up on the other side of his bed like a cat. quinn stretches and despite the brief disturbance your eyes stay firmly closed.

downstairs the house was a mess. empty bottles and cups littered the wood floors and empty food wrappers crinkle uncomfortably under quinns tired feet.

"morning," jack says as soon as his older brother steps into the dimly lit kitchen. jacks sandy hair is tousled and if his undereye bags were any indication of how he was feeling... it was clear that he was unwell.

"you look like shit," quinn chuckles as he tosses jack a bottle of aspirin.

"gee, thanks." jack rolls his eyes but pops a pill nonetheless.

quinn fixes himself some toast and the two brothers sit in comfortable silence.

"where's yn," jack asks, nursing a yellow gatorade.

"sleeping,"

jack hums in acknowledgement. he stares inquisitively at his brother - silently hinting at what's going on between the blurred lines of quinns and yns relationship, but quinn ignores him.

i know we be so complicated lovin' you sometime drive me crazy 'cause i can't have what I want and neither can you

late the next afternoon after tirelessly scrubbing down the floors and tossing out empty cans, the group of hockey players and friends make their way onto the lake.

as always, quinn drives and docks the boat in the middle of the lake so the group could swim and yn could suntan on the hard, white seats of the boat.

quinn wasnt an idiot. he knew that his best friend was hot. the stolen glances and not-so-subtle double takes weren't lost on him as his friends ogled her. she was undeniably gorgeous and someday their relationship wouldn't be enough anymore. she would eventually want more, and quinn wasn't sure he'd be able to give her a relationship she deserved from two thousand miles away.

you ain't my boyfriend (boyfriend) and i ain't your girlfriend (girlfriend) but you don't want me to see nobody else and i don't want you to see nobody

˚₊ · »-♡→ [instagram]

yourusername

liked by trevorzegras, bradytkachuk, joshnorris10, 3 333 others

yourusername daydreamin' 🧸

"what's the deal with yn and quinn anyway? have they always been so... intense?" alexander holtz asks between shooting pool.

jack sighs, "yeah theyre always like that. i wish they'd just get over whatever they've got going on and get together already. its honestly painful to watch," jack jokes tensely.

alex tuts, "i wish she were available"

another guy hums, "she's a total smoke show,"

"ew, shes like our sister," luke pipes up.

"your sister maybe," someone laughs. "she ain't mine,"

quinn silently turns away from the rec room to find you.

but you ain't my boyfriend (boyfriend) and i ain't your girlfriend (girlfriend) but you don't want me to touch nobody else baby, we ain't gotta tell nobody

"hey," you smile sweetly at quinns presence. he stares at you simply before sitting down on the decksteps next to you. he frowns when you set your book down beside you and you press your knee to his in an attempt to calm him. "what's wrong?"

quinn sighs deeply. "i just - i dont know. what are we doing?"

"what do you mean?" you ask even though you know where this conversation is heading.

quinn gestures between the two of you, "we've... things are different now,"

"i don't know what you're talking about," you say, genuinely taken off guard. "if this is about the party...?"

"we'd be an awful couple," quinn cuts in.

"who called us a couple?,"

"look, you're going to want more eventually and-"

you scoff. "are you going to actually talk to me? because i'm fine with out arrangement," you lie.

quinn stares at you with an unreadable expression. "look, it's not going to work"

"did the guys say something to you?" you bite. you reach your hand out to quinn but he pushes it away.

"no. i just don't think us being... involved... is a good idea anymore,"

"'involved'" you say sarcastically. you've been hooking up for three years now.

quinn stands up suddenly, "yeah. it's over - i'm over it,"

"okay?" youre defiant. "don't come begging to me when you see me with another guy - or when you need a quick lay. god, youre such an asshole!"

i wanna kiss you (yeah), don't wanna miss you (yeah) but i can't be with you 'cause i got issues yeah, on the surface, seem like it's easy careful with words, but it's still hard to read me

quinn didn't know why he shut everything down. he didn't want to - not really anyway. it was all so stupid and he shouldn't have reacted at all.

Stress high when the trust low (mmm) Bad vibes, where'd the fun go? (Oh) Try to open up and love more (love more) Try to open up and love more

the two friends move around each other awkwardly and the tension in the house was palpable. you start to skip out on summer activities, and quinn no longer seems to enjoy driving out into the lake when you were no longer sitting by his side. everything felt wrong.

If you were my boyfriend If you were my girlfriend I probably wouldn't see nobody else But I can't guarantee that by myself

"you know what, i'm glad we decided to all us quits. you were totally right! we wouldnt have made a good couple - you probably wouldnt have stopped seeing other people," your tone is scorching as you finally catch quinn alone.

"yeah well considering your track record you'd probably have gotten with somebody else before i even boarded my flight back to van," quinns quick to defend himself - leaving you reeling.

"what the fuck are you talking about?" you seethe, letting all your emotions wash over you at once.

"alex, that guy from u of m, the fucking football player!" quinn stresses the names of the last two, knowing those were the guys you hooked up while you were both at school.

you throw your arms up in the air, "you are such a hypocrite! do you know that? like seriously. lets not go tit for tat here quinn because trust i'll win every time,"

"everything always a game with you,"

you stare at him blankly. "what are we doing then? you told me the jealously was fun, you were the one who led me to your bed last week! you didn't want to get into a relationship in a first place!"

"so did you! don't spin this back on me!"

"i never said that!" you yell, "and i never got with alex,"

You ain't my boyfriend (boyfriend, you ain't my boyfriend) And I ain't your girlfriend (girlfriend, I ain't your girlfriend) But you don't want me to see nobody else (nobody) And I don't want you to see nobody

"you might as well be," quinn tries to bait you but you dont respond.

tears well up in your eyes, "you said you didn't see us being in an actual relationship"

at the sight of your tears quinn starts to backtrack. "im sorry-"

"no, i started all this," you say, wiping away your tears with the back of your sleeve. "i'm sorry for getting mad at you - i'm done,"

"what do you mean youre done?" quinn responds, following behind you as you walk back into the lake house. as soon as the sliding door slams shut heads turn towards the two of you.

"you said you were done and i agree," you say simply, tears threatening to spill over as you catch sight of luke staring at you in confusion.

without another word you storm up the stairs and begin packing your suitcase.

But you ain't my boyfriend (boyfriend, you know you ain't my boyfriend) And I ain't your girlfriend (girlfriend, yeah, mmm) But you don't want me to touch nobody else (nobody) Baby, we ain't gotta tell nobody (oh yeah)

your hands grip the steering wheel tightly as you drive the fifteen minute trip to your parents house. it was over, finally over between the two of you.

You ain't my boyfriend (boyfriend) And I ain't your girlfriend (girlfriend) But you don't want me to see nobody else And I don't want you to see nobody

a week went by, and everybody presses quinn on why you left.

"i don't know guys, stop asking me about it," his answer stays the same, although his undereyes get considerably darker as the days go by.

But you ain't my boyfriend (boyfriend) And I ain't your girlfriend (girlfriend, yeah) But you don't want me to touch nobody else (nobody) Baby, we ain't gotta tell nobody

˚₊ · »-♡→ [instagram]

yourusername

liked by _alexturcotte, jackhughes, yourfriend, and 1 403 others

yourusername baby loves 🎧

view all comments

yourfriend baby loves im tryna talk to youuuuu

yourusername theres a boy ! and i dont quite know... what to dooo

_alexturcotte stunner ⚡️

user01 did u and quinn have a fight or something ? why did u guys unfollow each other lololll

user05 literal princess !!!

user11 quinn unfollowed and alex commenting... 👀

_quinnhughes

liked by lhughes_06, bradytkachuk, 18 005 others

_quinnhughes summa with the brothers 🤟

view all comments

trevorzegras #Aesthetic

user08 no mention of yn... were cooked

user15 first summer photo numb in yearrrssss where yn didnt make a feature... 🫣👀

────୨ৎ──── ended insanely abruptly but i wanted to post something for u guys today😭

────୨ৎ────

────୨ৎ────

[ravenslvt]

why does your best friend's older brother have to be so hot?? :(((

☆ suna rintarou x fem!reader (pt.1) ☆

cw: smuut! p in v, v fingering, fluffy, lowk sweet, implied virgin reader, unprotected sex.

pt. 2 pt.3 pt.4

you sigh at the empty water bottle on the nightstand. you look over at your best friend, ami. she was fast asleep. you smiled, glad you were able to visit her on your break from university. you were grateful her parents let you stay over while they were out of the country for some sort of work meeting.

back to the important matter, your thirst. you slowly get up, trying not to wake your dark haired bestfriend. grabbing the tin water bottle and tiptoeing downstairs, making sure to close the door to her bedroom quietly on the way out.

you walk through the familiar halls of the house you’ve known since you were young. all the lights were off except the kitchen light.

walking in, you notice your bestfriend’s hot ass older brother, rintarou, leaning against the kitchen island on his phone. he was wearing his usual loose sweatpants, and a tight fitting t-shirt from your old highschool. it used to be loose on him, it was clear he’s been working out more and gained more muscle. his head perks up, he pauses whatever he was watching and speaks.

“hey, didn’t think anyone was still awake.” his voice is low and a little hushed.

you don’t notice the way his eyes go to your attire, small little sleep shorts and a tank top.

you notice he’s heating something up in the microwave as you reach the fridge, unscrewing the cap to your water bottle to refill it. you watch as the bottle slowly fills, talking to him.

“ami fell asleep and i was thirsty. she always passes out so fast” you softly chuckle. she was always the first to fall asleep at sleepovers, even in your childhood. girl was a deep sleeper.

“mmm” he simply hums, returning back to looking at his phone.

you turn back to face him, taking a refreshing sip of water.

“whatcha watchin?” you lean on your elbows against the counter, peering over at him.

your relationship with suna rintarou was…. friendly to say the least. he was only a year older than you and ami, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t have a (fat) crush on him since middle school.

you remembered the exact moment your crush on him had started. you and ami were twelve and rintarou was thirteen. you were at the suna’s family beach house for summer break.

you and ami relaxed in the sun, reading your assigned reading books together and laughing over how dumb you guys thought the plot was.

“seriously, this guy is so lame. he just mopes around and smokes cigarettes all day. dude’s gonna have lung problems” ami rolled her eyes at a certain line of the book.

you giggled and opened your mouth to say something to agree. until a volleyball came flying at you full speed. your eyes widened and you just froze. you two were aware rintarou and some of his friends were playing a game of beach volleyball a few feet away.

you flinched and put your arms up quickly in defense, but never felt impact. you look up to see a teenage rintarou who dived to grab the ball before it hit you.

“you good?” he called your name to get your attention. you just nodded, hiding the flushed state of you face with your book. he made a comment on how he read it in english class last year and if you needed any help on the work, he had your back.

“go away, rin. she doesn’t need your c- average help” his sister retorted as he walked back to his friends. he turned his head to give a small chuckle. you never forgot his smile since then.

back in the present, he takes his eyes off his video for a moment to look back at you.

“my game replays. hey, come watch this and tell me if you think furuhashi fucked us over with this serve” he did a ‘come here’ motion. you were at his side within a moment.

you peered at the phone screen over his shoulder. his phone looked so small compared to his large hands. he replayed the video for you to watch. you focused on the teamate he pointed to and it looked like he did a purposefully bad set, aiming right at the opponents head.

“ouch. seemed like he had personal beef with number eight….” your face scrunched in the way the opponent immediently fell to the floor from such a powerful blow.

“yeah, dude let his emotions get the best of him and got the rest of us in trouble with the ref for it” he shuts his phone off, sighing.

“you have another game next week, right? ami wanted me to go check you guys out.” you grab your bottle from the counter.

taking another sip of water, a small droplet spills past your mouth, down your neck, and disapears into the curve of your breasts. you notice the way his eyes follow the bead of water.

his eyes meet yours. and before he can open his mouth, the microwave beeps loudly. he quickly gets up to take the food out with a quick curse, hoping the obnoxious beeping didn’t wake anyone up.

he takes the steaming plate out of the appliance. you notice he heated up some cold pizza you guys ordered earlier in the night.

your eyes go back to his broad shoulders and arms, down to his large veiny hands. he’d matured a lot more since you’d seen him last.

you caught yourself staring, starting to feel a little awkward. you suddenly start to get a little hot, despite what little clothes you wore. you step away to leave the kitchen. your thoughts ran rampet of his hands. you pictured them touching your hair, your arms, your-

“where are you going?” his eyes are only on you now, his arms leaning against the counter to look at you.

“i- um should probably get back to ami” you gulp.

“why? isn’t she asleep? come hangout with your real favorite suna” he smirks, taking a peice of the hot pizza into his mouth.

you roll your eyes and fake scoff.

“don’t let your sister hear you say that, she might believe it” you cross your arms, eyeing him.

he swallowed, wiping his mouth with a napkin and smiling.

“i mean, it’s the truth. isn’t it?” god he was so cocky today. but you loved it.

“and what makes you think that, rin?” you played along. you step a little closer, this time you lean your elbows on the counter facing him. accidentally giving him a front row view of your cleavage through your thin top.

you see the way his eyes drop to your tits. oh you had him.

“cause, you think i’m cuter” his eyes flicker back to your own. he shrugs casually, a smug smirk on his face. his food now forgotten in his mind. only thing he wanted now was you.

“sure, whatever you want to think.” you sarcastically remark back.

he laughs, circling the kitchen island so now you had nothing between you except about a foot of space.

“oh i don’t have to think it, pretty. i know it” shit, he was getting closer and your heart was only beating faster.

“you’re delusional, rintarou.” you aren’t laughing anymore, smile fading to a more serious demeanor. you were nervous and he could tell.

he smiles, running a calloused finger down your arm. it left a trail of fire down your skin and your breath hitched.

“is that why you’re always staring at me. you think i don’t notice?” his voice is lower now, quieter.

fuck. he knew.

“as if you don’t oogle at me whenever i’m in a swimsuit.” you refuse to look away from his gaze.

he lets out a small chuckle. it was hypnotizing.

“i ‘oogle’ you no matter what you wear” he admits, almost proudly.

you eyes widen for a moment. you try your best to hold it together. his hand played with the ends of your hair. you two had never stood this close before.

you felt the flimsy fabric of your panties start to dampen.

“what’s got you all quiet?” his hand moves from your soft locks to hold your chin, forcing you to look right at him.

“screw you, rin” you retort, flustered. he snorts.

“you’d love that, wouldn’t you?” his face only got closer to yours.

you guys were so close, you had forgotten you weren’t the only two in the house.

“in your dreams-“ you start.

“knock that shit off. admit you want this as bad as i do” he says your name. your faces were now inches apart. his eyebrows furrowed and he just looked so attractive. he was studying your expressions, his eyes never leaving your face.

“rin i-“ you start again. this time his lips hover over yours, ghosting over your own.

“tell me to stop and i’ll go back up to my room and we will never speak of this again.” his hand moves to cup your cheek, his forhead resting on your, giving you a chance to pull away.

but you didn’t want to pull away and he didn’t either.

finally, after what seemed like years of tension, you snapped. going up on your tipy toes to crash your lips on his.

his hands immediately draw to your waist, holding you as close as possible while your hands wrap in his soft dark brown locks.

years of unresolved feelings and tension all poured into one heated kiss.

his hands gripping your waist moves down to your hips, he turns you so your rear is against the counter. how convinient his hips are the perfect height for the kitchen island.

you let out a soft gasp as he bites your bottom lip, he smirks and gently prods his tounge into your mouth, seeking permission first. you lean your head back to let him kiss you deeper.

he was fully addicted to your lips.

he pats your hip and you take it as a sign to hop on the marble counter, he helps you jump up. he slots himself inbetween your thighs, your lips never pulling apart.

“fuck. i can’t believe i haven’t tasted you sooner” he says in between kisses. you giggle at the way he refuses to pull apart from you.

he just grips your waist tighter, his cold hands slipping under the fabric of your tank top. you gasp as he reaches for your bare tits, lifting the fabric to rest above your breasts. you never wore a bra around him. and of course he always noticed.

he gave your perky tits a firm squeeze, you mewl into his mouth as he gently pinches your hardened nipples. his cold fingers adding an extra chill.

rintarou’s hips press gently into yours. you could feel his erection through his pants. you grip his hair tighter at the feeling of his clothed member rubbing against your clothed clit.

you unlatch a hand from his hair and bring it straight to his hardness. he hisses as you rub him through the pants. he could feel a small wet patch forming in his boxers.

“shit, take these off” he hooks his thumbs in the waistband of your sleep shorts, you lift you hips for him to shimmy them down your legs, you didn’t even notice where he put them. you didn’t really care.

you were left in your little lace panties. he gave a lopsided smile at how prepared you were. it was like you knew he was gonna fuck you tonight. or maybe you wore these all the time around him, just waiting.

“this wet already?” he sucks in a breath, running a finger over the growing wet patch on your panties. you just nod and focus your gaze on his long fingers. you wanted them so bad.

“rin, please” you grab at his hand that was teasingly brushing over your clothed clit.

“stop teasing” you pout at him. he looks up at you and gives you another kiss.

“you’re too cute not to tease.” he pulls away and pulls your underwear to the side, spreading your legs more. he curses at the sight of your glistening pussy, knowing it was all for him.

he runs a long finger down your folds, causing your grip on his wrist to tighten.

“so worked up, aren’t you? no one ever touch you like this before?” he asks, continuing his motions up and down.

“n-no rin, just you.” you breathily admit, a bit emberassed. it was the truth though, he was the only one you really wanted over the years.

he lets out another curse at the thought of being the first guy to touch you in this way. he was straining against his boxers, his loose sweatpants suddenly feeling so tight on his hips.

“tell me if it hurts and i’ll stop, okay?” he looks you in the eye, serious. you just nod.

“wanna hear you say it, baby” he pulls his hand away from your cunt.

“yes rin, i swear” you assure, shimmying to the edge of the counter to be closer to him.

he smiles, giving you a peck on the forehead before prodding his middle finger into your tight hole, spreading your wetness to make sure you were ready.

he slowly enters you and you grip onto his shoulders for dear life. he gives a few slow experimental pumps of his finger before you were asking for more.

“this ok?” he whispers in you ear, kissing your neck.

“god yes. more please” you plead in a quiet tone, trying your best to keep silent.

he chuckles and adds his ring finger. just two was enough to stretch you out. it was a delicious pain of his large digits splitting you open. you couldn’t even imagine how good his cock would feel.

you bite your knuckles to muffle the sounds of pleasure you were making. but nothing could cover the wet noises coming from him finger fucking your pussy.

his wrist started to ache, but it was worth it to see the way you were taking it so well. he curled his fingers, doing a ‘come here’ motion inside of you. you let out a muffled curse as your legs started to shake.

he kept pumping and curling his fingers over and over. his long thick fingers reached places your little hands just couldn’t.

“i think i’m-“ you cut yourself off with a soft moan, still trying to be quiet.

he just kisses you through your orgasm, groaning into your own mouth. your pussy squeezes around his fingers and he swallows up all your noises. he imagines how you’d feel squeezing his cock like this, while his other hand groping your tit, pinching your nipple. you arch into him and pull away from his lips to breathe.

you pant and look at him, face completley flushed, he slowly removes his fingers. his hand was coated in your cum. he gives your chest a few small kisses, accidentally leaving faint marks on the skin. not an accident at all.

he was panting too. you looked at him, curiously. your eyes go down to his pants. there was an obvious wet stain in the front.

“did you….” your eyes go wide as he flushes with emberassment.

“m’sorry you were just so fucking hot i couldn’t-“ he starts, but you cut him off with your lips. you were immediately aroused again, but this time the only thing that could satisfy you was his cock.

you paw at his sweats, shaky fingers clumsily trying to untie the drawstring. he grips the back of your neck with one hand while the other helps take off his pants. he starts to stroke himself until he’s hard again, still recovering from blowing his load in his pants.

you swat his hand and give his cock long strokes. you finally get a good view of it. he wasn’t small by any means, but not obnoxiously large. it was a delicious size that made your mouth go dry. there was a certain blue vein that ran down from his tip, your finger running over it, making him hiss.

he noticed you staring and encourages you to continue, his thumbs rubbing your thighs in comfort.

you swipe your thumb over his slit making him shiver like a small dog. his tip was so sensitive. you move to try and hop off the counter to get on your knees, but he stopped you, gripping your hips.

“if you do that i won’t be able to last.” he pets your hip sensually. you pout.

“don’t give me that look. next time, i promise” he pecks your lips and your heart flutters. so there will be a next time.

his head rests on your shoulder as you continue to stroke up, switching from pumping it to teasing his tip. he stopped you once his hips started to sputter. he was like putty in your hands at this point.

“p-please” he says your name, panting.

“i need to be inside you. i need to feel you so bad, baby please” he begs, kissing your neck, leaving darker marks in his wake.

you whine at his words, using your legs to wrap around his hips, his cock sitting right above your needy cunt.

“fuck me already, rin” you give his cock a few more pumps before lining him up with your wanting hole.

he does as yous say, slowly pushing in, his mouth gaping wide and his head falls back once he’s fully inside of you.

now your head rests on his chest as you encourage him to move. he slowly pulls out then back in with a powerful thrust. you bite his shoulder to keep from screaming out. surley leaving a mark.

“ohmygod rin” you can’t help but chant out his name as his thrusts quicken. you were praying ami was still asleep or she would totally hear the sounds of his hips slapping into yours.

“shh. gotta be quiet, kay? don’t want your friend to hear you getting fucked by her big brother do you?” he clasped a hand over your mouth, you unconsciously squeezed him tighter. your eyes screwed shut tight.

“fuck. you’d probably like that wouldn’t you? want everyone to see how badly you want my dick?” he groans in a hushed tone, his thrusts getting deeper and deeper. he was loosing control.

he gripped onto your hips to stabilize his pace. you guys never broke eye contact as your mouth hung open silently, trying so hard to keep quiet. he smiles at how fucked out you already looked.

“rinnn” you whine.

“m’right here, pretty” he kisses you once again. one of your hands takes purchase in his (now) messy hair, the other one gripping onto his strong arm. you were sure you were clawing into him with your nails, but he didn’t seem to mind.

you were getting close already. he moaned into your mouth as you tightened around his cock. he fed you simple praises from his pretty mouth, encouraging you to cum.

your thighs tightened around his hips, wanting him to be even closer, if that was even possible.

“i got you, baby. let go” he whispers inbetween kisses.

he bites your lip as you cum on his cock, squeezing him in every possible way. you whine into his mouth, the kiss now turned so messy a bit of drool fell from your mouth.

he fucked you through your orgasm as you shake in his hold, he was holding back his own until you were satisfied. you started to mewl from the overstimulation of his veiny cock pounding into you.

he pulls out, pumping himself until he finishes on your thigh, letting out a hushed moan of your name from his lips, making you squeeze around nothing. both of you breathing heavily.

after you both cool down from your highs, he looks at you, full of admiration.

“you did amazing” he kisses your cheek.

once your mind fog clears, the realization hits you. you just fucked your childhood crush, your bestfriends brother. a part of you feels a little guilty, but the other part of you wants nothing more than to do it again.

he notices your hesitation, placing a gentle hand on your hair so soothe it down.

“hey, you okay?” he asks. you didn’t even notice when he had pulled his pants back up, or when he put your top back in place over your tits.

you give him a soft smile.

“i’m okay” you assure him.

“good” he smiles back, he grabs a nearby kitchen cloth and wipes off his spend from your thigh.

“gross, rin. people use that towel” you scold.

he just shrugs “i’ll throw it in the wash”

you both knew in your heads you couldn’t tell anyone about this.

it was your little secret.

suddenly, rintarou’s phone lights up from across the counter. he puts your panties back in place, grabbing your sleep shorts and putting your legs through them so you could put them back on. he snatches his phone for you both to see.

‘WEATHER WARNING: all schools in the area shut down for another two weeks’ the notification read.

your eyes widen. looks like you’d be staying at the suna’s house for a lot longer than you thought.

the next morning

“ouch, looks like your girl maimed you” ami laughs over her waffles. you sit next to her, pouring the syrup over your own. rin almost chokes on his food and your head snaps up.

“what?” he says with a mouthful of bacon. ami points to the scratches on his arm and the literal bite mark on his shoulder. your eyes go wide. you made sure to wear a hoodie to cover your own marks.

“aww rin hooked up with a wolf!” you add, trying not to raise suspicion. he squints his eyes at you, swallowing his food.

at least he had the decency to wipe down the counter before we ate.

“something like that” you eye eachother before turning back to your breakfast.

this was gonna be a long stay.

masterlist

a/n: i kinda wanna make this a mini series lollll lmk of you’d like a pt.2 (this is highkey ooc but idc!!! its fanfiction!!!! i love my fake man fr)

[vultbae]

small world ❀

art donaldson x female reader

part two (soon)

↳ summary: Art and Patrick were once your peers at the Mark Rebellato Academy —not the nicest ones. Five years later, you've made a friend that can help you fuck with their minds a little.

↳ warnings: making out, dry humping, manipulation, a lot of pettiness, mentions of bullying, and weight!! the dumbification of art donaldson tbh

↳ notes: Istg I be having the most random ideas, but I hope you enjoy!! as always, english is not my first language lolz

word count: 3.1k

Tashi enters the living room with a bottle of champagne and two crystal flutes, moving gracefully in a beautiful blue mini-dress. With a soft pop, she eases the cork, instantly pouring the effervescent gold-ish liquid into the two glasses. 

"You shouldn't even worry about them," Tashi says with a wry smile. As she finishes serving you some rosé Veuve Clicquot, she hands you the glass. "What are you—like, the second or third in Europe? They are gonna be broke by their thirties," she concludes, staring at you with confident eyes.

You nod, taking a sip of champagne. "Don't see it as serious; it'll be fun."

Tashi raises her glass, a gleam of satisfaction in her eyes. "Im just saying, don't stress over men."

You clink your flute against Tashi’s. "Alright."

A year and a half ago, you had met Tashi Duncan, who you believed was a hard-hearted bitch but ended up being a close friend of yours. She is merciless, proficient, and goddamn; she has that vicious aura you worship so much. While living in Biot, you'd always look for the nearest CRT to watch Tashi flawlessly play, enchanted by how she unnerved her adversaries.

During summer break, your father dragged you out of the academy to visit California for a benefaction event. Amidst the glamour and chatter of the event, you caught sight of Tashi —most likely attending due to her relevance spiking around the area. Luckily, your connection rapidly deepened, fueled by reciprocal admiration and tennis dependence.

And the commitment to stay in touch despite the geographical distance worked. Tashi became pretty much your best friend, and you became hers. Aside from the workaholic aspect, the resemblances between you were too much to ignore. Sooner than later, you discovered much about Tashi's personal life, the players she liked and despised, and her daily anecdotes regarding tennis and her intimate life. And that's how you became acquainted with Fire and Ice's peculiar hyper-fixation on Tashi.

Art Donaldson and Patrick Zweig.

You thought it was a unique offering from God. You didn't expect you'd get the opportunity to face the golden pair again. When Tashi told you she had met Zweig and Donalson, a powerful sentiment of gratitude washed over you. You nearly fell to your knees when she proceeded to explain they were a walking boner for her. If that wasn't high power granting you a second chance to delight yourself, it was an insane coincidence.

But telling Tashi the backstory was a different pain in the ass. Although she expressed some sort of disgust towards Zweig and Donaldson's brainless carnal-based attitude, you couldn't buy it.  And your skepticisms were demonstrated as valid when she —dreamy voice and all that shit— confessed through the phone she nearly had a threesome with them. A fucking threesome. You couldn't hold it back anymore, so you told her everything.

Tashi was aware of tennis's influence on your household, as you were raised by two renowned tennis coaches from the States. When you turned eight, your parents turned you in at the Mark Rebellato Academy —as if you were condemned to play tennis by default. The detrimental part of your journey was developing thyroid issues when you were twelve. Jesus, twelve years old — the commencement of the preteen period where kids either kiss your feet or bully you. One year after, along with the anticipated weight gain, you met Art and Patrick. And as if you weren't unfortunate enough already, the two —who at the time looked like fucking Beavis and Butthead— decided they didn't like your physical appearance. They hated it.

“Hey, Y/l/n!” Patrick’s voice rang out, sharp and mocking.

You froze, your heart sinking to the underground. You tried to focus on your serve, but your hands were immobile. 

Patrick sauntered over, his smirk widening as he looked you up and down. “What’s the matter, Y/n? Ball too heavy for you to lift?”

You heard Art’s laughter behind your back. He joined in a kind of trembling voice. “Or maybe she’s saving her strength for lunch. She doesn't hesitate when it comes to eating.”

The echo of them and the rest of the kids on the court laughing was a sound that felt like daggers piercing your heart.

After two years of ceaseless bullying and humiliation—which also distracted you from tennis—your parents sent you to The Mouratoglou Tennis Academy in Biot, a small town in France. You are not sure if it was the harassment itself, the low self-esteem, or possibly your undeniable attraction for Donaldson. It didn't matter. By the age of seventeen, you were undoubtedly one of the major promises of European tennis.

So, explaining the theatrical, soap opera-like backstory to Tashi for your detestation of Zweig and Donaldson took time. But when you did, it was worth it because Tashi didn't distrust your testimony, and if anyone was exhilarated to play some moves against them at the beginning, it was Duncan. 

That's the explanation behind Tashi pitching a tremendous party to celebrate her commitment to Stanford. This was absurd, to say the least, considering she had college offers piling up, and no one doubted she would commit to a prestigious school. But Tashi knew you'd visit from France, and this was just the perfect instance to hook you up with both condemned.

Because, of course, her biggest fangirls would attend. 

It didn't take long until the country house was full of people ranging from Tashi's cousins to bare acquaintances. And spotting Fire and Ice was easier than you thought. 

Tashi elbows you discreetly and signs with her head the direction they are standing. "There they are."

Your gaze falls over Art, who is laughing with —who you assume is—Patrick. His features are sharper and more defined. The lanky, slender physique you remembered from his premature teenage years had filled out into a more athletic build, with broader shoulders tapering to a trim waist covered in a light pink shirt. His blonde hair, which was no longer too light, was now strawberry blonde-ish, slightly tousled, and cascading over his ears.

Patrick, standing a few feet away, was equally transformed. His brunette hair, just a bit longer than you remember, frames a face that had hardened over the years—angular jaw, defined cheekbones, and piercing eyes that seem to miss nothing. The fucking smirk is still there, and you can see how he displays it every two seconds at whatever thing Art is telling him.

The interior of your stomach resembles a volcano about to erupt. You feel ambivalent, so many emotions overlapping each other. You see two cute, hell, gorgeous guys, and you wish you could approach them without considering crucifying them before. And you can't help but feel envious at how effortlessly Tashi managed to tame Art and Patrick while the only thing you got from them was hostility.

Your eyes can't seem to unbuckle from them. Tashi catches you slightly frowning at the panorama, and she isn't certain if you are infatuated or planning murder on the spot. "Come on."

You have no time to react before Tashi leads you through some partygoers to reach where Zweig and Donaldson are. Like dogs sniffling fresh meat, it's pathetic how their heads twist simultaneously when Tashi approaches them, conversation instantly pausing. It is as if Tashi's presence was magnetic for them.

"Well, hello, both of you," Tashi greets them excitedly, still holding your hand. "Didn't think you'd come."

Art's eyes widen, "Are you kidding?" he's about to keep speaking, but his gaze merges with yours for a split second, and he shuts off. Dead. Silent. 

"—Stanford's a big deal, Tashi." Patrick interrupts, compensating for the awkwardness of Art's sudden number. "I had to drag this lazy fuck out of his bed, but we made it."

Suddenly, Art's out of the trance, tearing his blue eyes off you to bombard Patrick with a killer look. "Hey—shut up, Patrick."

Tashi sweetly, softly giggles at their word exchange. God, she's good, you think. Tashi turns to gesture to you, "This is my friend, Claire, by the way. She is visiting from the Mouratoglou Academy—

To be fair, Claire is a believable name.

"Wait, the Patrick Mouratoglou Academy? In France?" Art runs over Tashis's sentence, incredulously shooting you a broad-eyed glare. You nod in agreement, still processing you are having a civil conversation with Art Donaldson.

You feel Tashi squeezing your hand at your quietness.

"Yeah, you know it?" you timidly ask, forcing a polite smile that, if you were Art, you wouldn't buy it. But, of course, he's as dumb as a pigeon.

"Heck... Of course, I do. I wish I could go there."

Tashi smirks, enjoying the spectacle. 

Patrick’s investment in the conversation piques. "Mouratoglou, huh? That's impressive. Maybe we could hit the court sometime."

And that's the first time Patrick makes eye contact with you. He's stabbing you with his stare. You abruptly wonder if he's as dumb as Art, probably not. 

You squeeze Tashi's hand.

Tashi leans closer to Patrick, her voice dropping to a more intimate tone. "Hey, Pat... do you remember what you mentioned about erectile dysfunction? My aunt's a sexologist, I think—

Patrick loudly chuckles, apparently alarmed by the deficiency of filtering confidential information. "I need to smoke sum' stronger. Wanna come, Tash?"

Tashi purses her lips, casting a quick glance at you. "Sure."

Your point of view is like a sitcom scene, swiftly panning from Tashi's body leaving your radar to the boy in front of you, staring at you with soothing eyes and reddened cheeks. It's basically comical.

Art's eyes dart around the lively yard before landing back on you. He clears his throat. "So, uh, Claire? That's a cute name."

It takes tons of willpower not to drop the good girl act right there. You attempt to return the sentiment with a quirk on the corner of your lips. "I need to get a drink. Come with me?"

He shakes his head up and down, finding it easier than answering with words.

For the first time in a couple of months, the inside of Art's mind has more than a giant cardboard cutout of Tashi Duncan. He is in awe. 

You lead the way, weaving through clusters of drunk teenagers towards the house. You feel Art's gaze lingering on your back —or ass, you don't know—a magnetic pull that makes you hyper-aware of his presence.

You arrive in the kitchen and quickly grab a bottle of vodka, a can of soda, and a party cup. Art watches you closely with a look of hypnotic admiration as if you were concocting the most complicated cocktail in the world. You want to roll your eyes so badly.

"That dress looks amazing on you." Art blurts out, unable to contain his thoughts any longer. 

You look at him. Art is sitting on one of the high stools by the kitchen island, his elbow resting on the table's sleek surface, supporting his chin with his hand. There is a softness in his eyes completely foreign to you, an infrequent vulnerability that contrasts sharply with the characteristic asshole demeanor you remember.

To Art, you appear almost ethereal, like an ideal concept from a wet dream of his. His thoughts are a kaleidoscope of jumbled fragments of memory that make no sense. You look so familiar... but no. 

There's no way he would forget about you.

You glance up, a faint blush coloring your cheeks. "Thank you," you reply, handing him a drink.

Art sips on his red plastic cup, eyes hooked on yours. "So, uhm. I just realized I never introduced myself properly. Im Art—

"Yeah, Donaldson, I know." you cut him off, leaving him completely silent and confused. "I've seen you play. Not bad," you clarify, with an unconscious hint of pride in your voice.

Art's smile widens. "Wait, you've seen me play?" he exaggeratedly emphasizes me. 

You nod.

His eyes twinkle with excitement. There’s this sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. "That's, uh, great. Next time you are watching, I'll play better..."

His innate nerdiness and try-hard flirtiness provoke nausea in you. If you didn't know him, it would be a different story. But seeing a former, intense crush who shamelessly bullied you for so long, giving you heart-shaped eyes...

It's fucking bizarre. And it pisses you off.

Art begins conversing about something else. You don't know what—tennis-related, maybe. You are not wearing earphones with noise cancellation, but you can't hear him anymore. It's a blur as his words course through one ear and depart through the other. Immediately. Your brain has simply blocked the action of listening to him.

You step closer, so close you can see the fine lines in his eyes, the flecks of green amidst the blue, with a hint of brown sectoral heterochromia on his right eye. You can smell the faint woody scent of his cologne, something spicy that makes you salivate. His lips keep moving, forming words that dissolve into the dim background noise. The music, the laughter, the chatter—they all blend into a distant hum.

Art's voice vanishes into oblivion as you fix your gaze on his mouth, the curve of his lips, the way they part and close as he speaks. "Art," you say, stopping him in his tracks.

His eyes flicker with uncertainty, puzzlement, and a spark of hope. His adam's apple throbs as he notices you staring at his lips.

You lean in, your breath mingling with his, your heart pounding in your chest. Your hand reaches up, fingers brushing against his cheek, feeling the warmth of his skin and the slight stubble that prickles against your touch. Art's breath hitches, his eyes widening in surprise, but he doesn't pull away. Instead, he leans in, too.

Your lips crash against his. Although you don't want to make it weird, you fail. It's not a gentle kiss or a precious, out-of-a-book lips meeting. It's fierce, instructing, a clash of sour sentiments and intent. You pour all your frustration, your pent-up anger, and your fucked-up desire to overpower him into that kiss. 

Art's shock melts away and quickly replaces it with an appetite that matches yours. His strong arms wrap around you, pulling you closer, his body pressing against yours. The kiss deepens, his lips parting to allow your tongue to explore, to taste the unmistakable flavor of cigarette and cheap vodka. You can feel the warmth of his breath and the way his hands tighten on your waist. It's almost as if he's frightened you'll pull away at some point.

And you can only fantasize about the moment you walk away.

—but not yet. You push harder, your fingers tugging slightly in his messy strawberry-blonde hair. He lowly moans into your mouth, a sound that dispatches a shiver down your spine. His hands roam your back, tracing the curve of your spine and dangerously lowering to your ass level. There's a distress in his touch you never thought would come from him.

The way he's dissolving under your venomous touch is already a win for you. You've managed to put him under you. And it's intoxicating, this control you have over him, this ability to make him forget everything else.

You pull back, your lips hovering just above his. Art's eyes are half-lidded, his lips swollen and ridiculously red from the intensity of the kiss. He looks at you in pure infatuation, "What- I... Did I do something wrong?"

You press a finger to his lips, silencing him again. "Come with me."

You peek at the party going outside—most people are outside. The living room is nearly empty, with a few alcoholized individuals entering the country house to refill their drinks. It's perfect.

You take Art's hand, your fingers lacing through his, and you lead him toward the sectional, six-seat couch in the center of the living room. You push Art down onto the couch, and he complies without resistance, his lust-drunken eyes never leaving yours; he nearly chokes on his spit at the sight of you slowly straddling him, your knees sinking into the soft cushions on either side of his hips.

"Jesus, Claire—"

You get the ick at the roleplay name Tashi baptized you with. 

"Shh," you whisper, leaning in to brush your lips against his in a soft, teasing kiss. "You never shut up, Donaldson."

And that's odd for him. He gives it a second thought because he isn't aware of how much he has talked, but definitely not that much. 

The overthinking vanishes as soon as you begin to kiss him again, slowly at first, savoring the way his lips deliciously move against yours. Art's hands rest tentatively on your hips, his fingers twitching as if afraid to hold on too tight. You guide his hands around your waist, urging him to hold you closer. His grip tightens, and you can feel the heat of his palms through the delicate fabric of your black mini-dress.

A sigh rolls out from your throat when you perceive something hard putting pressure against your core —which, because of the dress, is only shielded by thin lace panties. The coarse fabric of Art's light denim jeans rubs splendidly against your pussy. 

A primitive groan slips out of Art's lips the moment you grind your hips against his clothed dick. Suddenly, he breaks the kiss, and his eyes wander downwards. "Shit— you'll kill me," he pants into your mouth.

You pull back slightly, looking into his eyes. They're dark with craving, his pupils dilated. "Then let me."

You are about to attack his lips again, but he hesitates. You tilt your head in confusion, murmuring a low what?

Art starts to speak, his voice shaky and breathless. "I... I was wondering if you wanted to go back to my hotel with me."

Before you can respond, Tashi suddenly appears in your vision behind Art's head. "Claire, there you are," she says, fucking loud with a knowing, manipulative smile on her lips. "Your dad called, he's outside."

You feel a surge of delicious triumph as you see the apparent dissatisfaction in Art's eyes. 

"Sorry, Art," you say, standing up and smoothing your dress. "Maybe another time."

There’s a raw sadness in his eyes, an almost childlike hurt that he can’t quite conceal. He isn't even drunk; he's fully conscious of the stunning girl he just met and now is evaporating as if she was going to turn into a wolf at midnight or something. 

As you are about to disappear from Art's vision, he shouts at you, "I'll see you later, right?"

But you don't answer.

Instead, you hurriedly walk with Tashi to reach the front yard. 

"I didn't lie about your dad being here, though," Tashi clarifies, pointing at the big Jeep parked in front of the country house.

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you had been holding, a smile tugging at your lips. "Yeah, alright." You glance back at the house to ensure you are out of earshot. "I think fucking him would've been better. Do you think he's gonna remember about this tomorrow?"

"Oh, yeah. This is definitely gonna fuck his head up for a while." Tashi chuckles, "he's pretty obsessive."

You feel a swell of fulfillment at your best friend's words. "How obsessive?"

Tashi smiles. "A lot."

❀

[i-like-writing-stuff]

the other five; part 2 [ five hargreeves x reader ]

okayyyy so it’s not my best work and i hope it is not too rushed or cheesy i have my best and i hope i didn’t crush y’all’s expectations 😭😭 writing this i literally gave no shit on the paradox psychosis, it’s also an AU where they did save the world, and not to mention again that everyone, including reader and five are around 32, basically the same age as the rest of the family

hope y’all still like it tho 🥹🥹🥹

part one

“I can’t believe how bad you suck at Scrabble in every single timeline, my love,” Five laughed, shaking his head in disbelief as you threw a wooden piece at him over the table, offended to say the least;

“I can’t believe what a piece of shit you are in every timeline!”

“Oh, she’s also a sore loser in every timeline!”

As you threw yet another wooden piece at the man before you, you couldn’t help but get infected with his contagious laugh and burst into giggles as well. Five was smiling from ear to ear, as he was heavily laughing, with a hand over his chest, as his other one was resting peacefully on top of yours on the table.

You were sitting on the rug, on each side of the coffee table in your living room. It was a peaceful Thursday night, and you didn’t really have anything planned. You worked all day, so you figured that a glass of wine and some chocolate to snack on while watching a movie would be a decent end of the day, but a couple knocks on your door changed that.

It had been a while since you met Five, a couple of weeks maybe. Nothing short of a miracle helped you save the world for good this time, but that’s a story for another time. Things were actually looking up for you, as the Hargreeves siblings were all safe in one piece, as well as your own parents. Viktor was visiting you in the States a lot more often, Allison, Klaus and Claire resumed their day to day lives, Luther was trying to reabilitate the old mansion for good this time and actually own it, Ben and Jennifer were happily together, as Diego and Lila were doing their best to save their marriage for the sake of their three children.

As for Five, last you heard he was still in the CIA, but that was about it.

The Five from your timeline, that was.

The Five standing in front of you, he was an entirely different story.

After he comforted you the day you and Five broke up, you tried to prioritize your interests and went back to help the family stop the apocalypse. In spite of how much you wanted to just lay in his arms until you went completely numb, you knew that if that’s where you were meant to be, you’d find your way back eventually.

And you did.

“Fuck me, that was draining,” You rubbed your face, falling onto the dusty leather couch with a loud thud, next to Allison.

“You’d think we would get the hang of it by now,” She sarcastically said, letting her head fall on your shoulder.

“If there’s a fifth apocalypse, let’s just let it happen,” Klaus suggested, as some of you couldn’t help but nod in agreement.

“At least this one wasn’t Viktor’s fault,” Luther pointed out, making Viktor waive his arms;

“Excuse me?”

“I’m swear I’m gonna kill myself,” Ben rolled his eyes bored as ever. On the surface, that was.

“Jesus Christ, what the fuck?” Lila raised her brows at the man.

“Do it later, we literally just saved your sorry ass,” Five pointed out.

“And to think that after all this shit, on Monday I’m back to delivering packages…” Diego deeply sighed, as you all turned to judge him.

The nine of you were standing in the middle of the old mansion, trying to catch your breath after your hardest efforts yet to save the world. It was a mixture of everyone’s powers, a droplet of a miracle and lots of yelling around, but eventually you did it. You could finally breathe again and not worry that tomorrow may not come.

However, it didn’t mean that you weren’t suffering anymore. You tried your everything to keep your composure around the Five from your timeline and Lila, since apparently even Diego was willing to make amends. He loved his brother and his kids far too much, as well as his wife. He was willing to put it all behind, after all, you were given a second chance and he was not going to waste it.

“Am I going crazy or is that another Five?” Klaus pointed towards the main entrance to the living room, as your Five walked in with a slight smile across his lips and his hands in his pockets;

“I wouldn’t have bet my last two cents that you idiots would have actually managed to save the universe.”

“Asshole,” You giggled, getting up to run instantly into his arms.

Five was taken aback by your sudden excitement for a mere second, as he stumbled a step back, but not wasting another second to wrap his arms around your waist. He walked you back from the diner to the train station that would take you back to Five, and eventually back to your timeline a couple hours ago, but if you were to be honest it felt like forever since the last time you saw him. In spite of being literally yet not really the man who crushed your heart that day, you found such an intense comfort in him, it was stupid.

You were still grieving your old relationship, you were still heartbroken over what had happened. Six years with Five on your side were not that easy to get over, but this one truly helped you feel better. He was so thoughtful, so sweet and kind, yet sarcastic and sassy, he was totally your perfect match, which was insane since you thought that your ex-boyfriend of six years would be your soulmate.

“I hate you,” You declared, crossing your arms over your chest, “You have no business making fun of me- you’re like a hundred years old.”

“Don’t- Don’t go there and make it awkward,” Five instantly said, raising his hands in front of you, “You’re making me feel like a pervert.”

“As you should,” You lightly shrugged your shoulders, watching as he rolled his eyes playfully.

The two of you started spending a considerable amount of time together lately, as he managed to make himself comfortable in your timeline. He couldn’t remember the last time he was so happy, not only because he had lost his own Y/N, but he also hadn’t seen his siblings in such a long time. In his timeline, they didn’t manage to save themselves after Reggie reset the timeline at Hotel Oblivion, so getting his family back in a way was surreal to him as well.

Five felt alive again and it was all because of you.

All because he stumbled upon the love of his life that day in the subway system, the same woman who brought him back to his family. Maybe they weren’t actually the ones from his timeline, but they were his family nonetheless.

“Okay, one more round so I can shut your trash mouth again,” Five declared, straightening his jacket, as he leant over the table to rearrange the board.

“I can think of another way you can shut my trash mouth,” You smirked, leaning forward on the table as well, resting your weight on your elbows.

The two of you took things surprisingly slow. You couldn’t deny the instant connection, after all- you were a couple in every single timeline. But you couldn’t help the need to avoid the rush. Sure, you held hands sometimes and bump your knees under the table, or he would place wild strands of hair behind your ears and you would sometimes fix his tie for him. You also tended to share tight hugs that lasted maybe a second too long, or linger some touched here and there, but you neither of you ever had the courage to bring it up in a discussion.

You had never even kissed.

“My, my, is my little Y/N getting impatient?” Five mimicked your smirk, lightly grabbing your chin between his index and thumb.

One thing you knew for sure was that you didn’t have feelings anymore for your ex-boyfriend. There was no doubt about that. You just didn’t feel it would be wise to jump into another relationship so soon with his doppelgänger, but after these past few weeks you were so done waiting.

If there’s one thing you learned from saving the world one too many times it definitely was that you should not be wasting precious seconds.

“Aren’t you?” You asked, looking into his eyes, trying to figure out where he stood on all this.

“I’d wait for you decades, darling,” Five confessed, running his thumb across your bottom lip in a gentle manner.

He loved the feel of you, every square inch of your body- he couldn’t get enough of it. He would touch anywhere possible, he wanted to pepper kisses along every part of you, but he did mean every word he said. He did want to wait for you for as long as you needed until you were ready to be with him, truly.

“Promise?” You couldn’t help but wonder, as Five let go of your chin to put some fallen strands of hair behind your ears, “Would you actually wait for me?”

“It’s not even up for debate,” He nodded, getting up from the floor, straightening his three piece suit.

He offered you his hands, as he lifted you to your feet as well. You didn’t know exactly if your legs were numb because of how long you’d been sitting crisscrossed on the floor, or simply because the man before you made your knees weak with one smile, but you knew for certain that you never wanted this night to end.

Five cupped your cheeks in his hands, as you naturally rested your hands on his chest. You were so smitten by him, but in all fairness- how could you not be? He was doing everything right, giving you all the love he had and a bit more extra, while still being his true sassy self that you loved so much.

“Kiss me, please,” You whispered, looking into his beautiful eyes, feeling as you were slowly losing yourself into the moment.

Five smiled as he leaned in slowly to give your lips a light peck, as careful and attentive as possible. His long fingers found their way into your hair, as your own arms wrapped around his neck to pull him in closer. He took that as his cue to go in for a more passionate kiss, capturing your lips with his in just a matter of seconds, losing his whole being in that moment to wrap himself around your pinky finger.

Anything you wanted, he would go through the ends of the world to get it for you- and that was an understatement.

[outerbankies]

congrats bby, can you pls do Try to eat something." and light peck kisses,

new light: wondering why

rafe x reader

summary: fresh off of making things official, rafe is bummed to miss out on a boat day with you when he gets sick.

a/n: happy obx 4 week! lovely going back to the new light summer in this one for the prompt celly that still very much exists and i will complete if it kills me :-)

masterlist

Rafe thought that if he did his best to ignore it, it might just go away on its own.

He thought that if he pretended his throat wasn’t getting progressively sorer throughout the day, if he ignored the way his entire body was beginning to ache, if he acted oblivious when he pressed his own hand into the back of his forehead to find a steady warmth, none of it would actually amount to anything.

But he wakes up on the Fourth of July and just knows, knows he’s completely fucked — seeing you, seeing his friends, any of his other plans for the day immediately put on the shelf when he wakes up in the state he’s in.

He’d woken up to the sound of his ringtone chiming, and if the way the sunlight filtering through his curtains was any indication, he was waking much later than he normally would be.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he answers, phone smushed into the side of his face, after cracking one eye open to check that it was in fact you calling. He had an inkling.

“Rafe?” you return.

“Hm?” he grunts, finding the wherewithal to roll out of bed, standing on shaky legs and making his way down the hall and to the bathroom.

“You sound sick,” you accuse.

“Yeah…” he says, voice catching on a cough that sneaks up his throat. “Yeah — um. Fuck, Wheez came home from camp with something last week. I think I caught it.”

“Rafe,” you say, and Rafe can almost see your pout through the connection. “Oh no.”

“I know, I know,” he says, checking his complexion in the mirror. He looks even worse than he feels, and he’s almost grateful he won’t be seeing you today sporting this grayish tint to his face and splotches of red around his nose and eyes. “I don’t think I’m gonna make it today.”

“No, definitely not. Fuck. I thought you were acting weird yesterday.”

“Really?” he asks, leaning forward to rest a hand on the counter. He switches the call to speaker, placing it on the counter so he can rifle through his bathroom drawers for anything that could help.

After a beat, he hears, “You wouldn’t kiss me. Not on the lips, anyway.”

Rafe feels a smile pulling at his lips, as ill as he feels. “Shit, baby. You notice that kinda stuff?”

Maybe Rafe hadn’t been ignoring the feelings as much as he thought he’d been, if withholding kisses from you is something he was doing voluntarily, even subconsciously. 

“Of course I do,” comes your reply. He can picture the sheepish look on your face right now, and the way you’d be ducking your head from his view the second you’d been caught out.

“Probably didn’t want you sick,” he says, trying to pinpoint anything weird from your date yesterday. It was nothing fancy, tacos on the beach after work, but he didn’t even consider cancelling while he was slogging through his day, and he didn’t regret it as soon as he saw you running down your parents’ driveway and to his truck.

“My hero. Is it just your throat?” you ask. 

“Hm,” he considers, blinking away thoughts of the shorts you’d been wearing under the sweatshirt he’d given you once the beach got cold, closing the drawer in his bathroom, suddenly frustrated at its emptiness. He might have to raid the girls’ bathroom and the kitchen cabinet above the microwave. “I’m gonna be real, baby. I just feel like shit. All-around.”

“Head?”

“Yep.”

“Are you warm?”

He feels the back of his neck with a clammy hand, already knowing the answer as he ambles back into his room, unsuccessful. “Very.”

“Achy, too?” you ask, and Rafe has to crack another smile at how doting you are, treating him like one of your nanny kids who caught the flu at pre-k. God, Rafe hopes he doesn’t have the flu.

“Big time. Gonna lay down,” Rafe decides, burrowing back under his covers, phone placed beside his head on his pillow. “M’sorry about today, Y/n/n.”

“Don’t be, Rafe,” you say sweetly.

It was nothing too special, just your group of friends out on Kelce’s boat for the day. But you’d made Rafe promise to make an appearance at your mom’s party before you all got too drunk, and you’d even helped him pick out an outfit for it. The navy polo he was gonna pair with his striped swim shorts hangs on the back of his closet door, mocking him.

“Did you find meds?”

“Yes,” he lies. “Think they’ll kick in when I wake back up.”

“Good. Stay hydrated, too. Lots of fluids. And try to eat something when you get up, alright?”

Rafe looks at the empty water glass on his night stand, another empty promise falling from his lips immediately. “Yeah, I can scrounge something up later.”

“Okay,” you say, sounding slightly assuaged, but still skeptical. “Are you home alone?”

Rafe feels his eyelids getting heavier at the way your tone goes soft. “Mm. Parade starting soon, probably. They took Wheez. Sarah’s at her boyfriend’s.”

“Right. Okay,” you sigh. “Well hang in there, okay? I’ll check in on you in a bit.”

“Don’t,” Rafe says. “Go have fun with everyone. If anyone gets too drunk to get you home, I’ll come. Take it easy, baby. For me.”

He makes a mental note to text Kelce as soon as he can stand to open his eyes and look at his phone again, just so he knows someone’s keeping an eye on you. He trusts all of your friends, but the sun’ll be out and he knows how you all get about day drinking. Plus, he’s got boyfriend duties now.

It’s been barely a week since he’d made it official, so his stomach still swoops when he remembers that you’re his. And not in a queasy way, from whatever malady he’s fighting today. In a way that he can’t believe it — can’t believe he landed you. That you like him, that you’re giving him a try, that you might feel even a fraction of the same way he does for you. 

Your friends don’t even know yet; today might have been the day to let them know, but not anymore.

“Don’t worry after me,” you say indignantly.

Rafe’s eyes finally flutter shut, your voice luring them closed. “I will.”

“Dork,” you giggle. “I’m hanging up now. Feel better.”

“Bye, baby,” he says, drifting off before he even hears the dial tone.

—

You already had the cute, red bathing suit you’d been planning to wear all day on when Rafe fell sick this morning. Purchased at a boutique on the mainland with him in mind last week, of course, but only bought and paid for when Gretchen and Margot had stepped out of the dressing rooms in their own new suits, assuring you you had to buy it.

You’d thrown a long sleeve and the shorts Rafe really liked on over it before getting in your Jeep, heading off to the south side of the island for one of the only restaurants in town open on the holiday.

And now you stand outside of Tanneyhill, nervous as can be, wondering if this was the right move.

Rafe did divulge that his entire family was out, so you summon the courage to lift a hand to use the door knocker. Of course, Tanneyhill had a door knocker, god — you don’t know why you didn’t notice until now. Maybe it’s because you’d always rolled up in a group, or to an open door, or filtered in through the side. But this was the first time you’d ever really—

The door creaks open, a head of pillow-messy hair hidden under a navy blue hoodie appearing in the gap.

“Y/n/n?” 

“Hi,” you say, your voice shaking.

“Baby,” Rafe sighs, pulling the door open completely. “What are you doing here?”

“You’re sick.”

“You’re supposed to be…” he begins lamely, letting you breeze past him over the threshold into his empty home, shutting the door after you. He pushes his sleeve up his arm to check his watch, and you notice a tremor. “Weren’t you guys meeting up around now? You know Top isn’t gonna wait around on the dock.”

“I know. I texted him I wasn’t coming,” you say. “All the delis up here are closed. The co-op, too. But there’s this pho place down past the marina that’s so good.”

He smiles. “I’ve heard of it.”

“I made sure to get a ton of sriracha packets — I know you like stuff really spicy,” you continue, setting the bag with the styrofoam containers on the kitchen counter while he trails behind you. “So even if you don’t like it, maybe you can—”

“I’m sure it’s great.”

You walk into his arms, slipping your hands up to rub his back. “I’m so sorry you’re sick, Rafe.”

He encloses you in a tentative embrace, his head leaning away with intent. “You brought me soup?”

He sounds disbelieving, and he looks it even more, digging into the bag. You rifle through the tote bag on your shoulder at that point, too, placing the other things you’d brought on the counter. “And some decongestants, cold and flu. I forget that literally everything closes here on holidays so it’s just what I had at home, but maybe someone at Heyward’s is—”

Rafe interrupts. “You brought meds, too? I told you I took some.”

You assess his pallor, your hand holding the side of his face. “I don’t think I believe you.”

When he sags into your hold, your thumb brushes his cheekbone. You pull him down until he bows, pecking his forehead. “Do you wanna go shower up? If you get it real hot, the steam might open your sinuses. I’ll keep the soup warm while you’re up there.”

He presses a tentative kiss into your hair, distancing himself from you to head back up the stairs. “I’ll go do that. Um, stay down here? We can hang on the couch, or whatever. Just — m’room’s a mess,” he says bashfully, one hand on the banister and another behind his neck.

When Rafe heads up, you briefly consider following defiantly a few minutes later to clear up his space and make up his bed for him — but it’s fresh, you two are fresh — it’s barely been a week. Eight days, if you were counting.

You keep good on your promise to keep the pho warm, portioning out some meds too. He’d been warm to the touch, and you’d make sure he had food in his stomach, and that he actually took something. Because you were beginning to suspect that he didn’t take care of himself at all like he promised he would on the phone.

He comes back downstairs looking maybe five times better, in a clean t-shirt and sweats, his wet hair falling over his face. 

“Better?”

“Better.” 

You eat side by side at his parents’ kitchen counter, Rafe taking breaks to lean his head on your shoulder, his hair smelling of him in a way that, until now, you hadn’t come to recognize was his shampoo. You try to hide the quirk on your lips when watch him dump two packets of hot sauce into the broth immediately, reveling in the fact that you remembered to grab extras.

When he starts pushing the noodles around aimlessly, you grasp the container gently, setting it on the counter before him. “Wanna go lay down?”

“Yeah,” he says, watching as you pack everything up, saving his leftovers in the fridge. 

You make a mental note to text him later about reheating and how long it’ll keep while you get ready to leave him be, already sad you won’t be parting with a kiss. “I’ll still be calling you later, okay?”

“You’re leaving?” he asks, one arm crossing over his body so he can scratch at his bicep.

“Yeah,” you say, confused. “You didn’t want me to see your room.”

He laughs, but it catches on a cough and your heart breaks at his pink and watery eyes. He clears his throat. “No… but we could — well. If you don’t wanna leave, we could… the couch, maybe? I don’t... you don't have to leave.”

Which is how you find yourself the most relaxed you’ve ever been in Tanneyhill, a blanket over your legs with your boyfriend’s head in your lap, some action movie droning quietly in the background.

“You can turn on one of your shows,” he says sleepily, rolling over until his lips are brushing the strip of skin between your shirt and the top of your shorts. “The housewives or whatever.”

His arm circles around your back, pulling you in, and you can’t understand how he still ties your stomach up in excited knots with a raw, pink nose and the smell of vaporub coming from his chest.

“This is fine,” you say, nodding to a buddy comedy with a title you don’t know, your eyes following a plot you don’t care about.

“I’m kinda invested in that one you had on the other night,” he confesses, cracking an eye open for you. He suddenly grins mischievously, and you feel the hand that’d wrapped around you suddenly digging into your side. “What’s this?”

His finger traces the strap of your bikini bottoms, and your skin flushes at the touch. “You got sick and now you’ll never know.”

“No,” he groans dramatically. “Please.”

You play ball, retracting your hand from his hair to lift the edge of your shirt obligingly. Rafe groans again, his face buried into your lap even further. “Fuck. I’m so mad we’re missing today.”

“I’m kinda not,” you admit. “I hate that you’re sick, but I was nervous about… I haven’t seen anyone since last week.”

“You tell any of them?” he asks softly, his head tipping back for your answer.

“Not yet. You?” you ask even softer. 

“Not a soul,” he says. “I just… It’s nice having it just us for a bit.” 

“I’m not ready for all the shit Kelce is gonna tell you about high school. And the girls. Probably Top, too,” you sigh, feeling your cheeks warm while you tip your head back to the couch.

“We’ll at least be even,” he promises. “Or I’ll be worse. Guaranteed.”

You aren’t immune to his insinuation, rushing to further the subject. “I was thinking maybe today.”

“Today,” he agrees. “I definitely wanted to do today. And I don’t think I would’ve been able to keep my hands off you, anyway.” 

“Made yourself sick over it,” you tease.

“That was probably just from asking you out,” he teases back, his hand squeezing your knee where he’s back to facing the TV.

You can’t find it in yourself to be worried about his family coming home and finding the two of you, or about anything, really, as Rafe dozes in your lap, his grip never faltering or becoming any less warm and captivating. Not even when your phone buzzes with a FaceTime from Margot, and you opt to answer it while keeping the volume as low as possible. 

“Where the fuck are you?” she demands. “There’s coasties everywhere.”

“I’m at Rafe’s,” you answer boldly.

She lowers her sunglasses through the glitchy connection, the ocean behind her a sea of pixelated blues and whites. “Why are you at Rafe’s?”

“He’s sick,” you say simply.

“That’s girlfriend behavior, Y/n,” she claims.

You say nothing, just giving an innocent shrug before you bid her goodbye, wondering how long it’ll be before she blows your phone up. 

[pinkslaystation]

[Part 2] If I meant something to you.

toxic!Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader

Here's part 1 hee hee hee hee Here's part 3 You believe Simon's changed his ways after your sister's engagement. After his actions, you still want him, but does he want you? Word Count: 3.6k

A half naked woman running out of Simon's flat? A surprise indeed it was.

You really thought he reciprocated the same feelings as you did at one point, for once in your life feeling as if someone truly did want you for you, but that fantasy had dried out, and it was clear Simon had no intentions with you.

Your replacement proved it.

Before you began to weep in front of the Brit again, you hurried to your flat door, rummaging through your sweatshirt pockets for your key, wanting to wallow back into a state of depression in the comfort in your own home.

Simon didn't follow you, instead he just leaned against his door frame, sexily might I add, intensely watching you clumsily rip out past receipts and snotty used tissues from your pockets. He wanted to say something, ask you how your day had been, even thought it just turned 9 A.M.

Then it hit you.

You think back to your previous steps. You woke up at 8:30, you read the texts from your sister, made yourself some coffee, which you definitely think had gone off, and left your home, feigning a state of happiness.

You didn't take your keys with you. They sat on your kitchen counter, almost like they were mocking you for being so careless.

Banging your head against the door, you curse, "Fuck's sake...."

You mentally note that this is probably one of the most humiliating scenes you've found yourself in, nearly as bad enough as your 18th birthday, when your parents congratulated your younger brother instead of you accidently.

Simon exhales a puff of smoke towards your direction, you were so fixed on trying to get inside, you didn't catch him lazily eyeing you whilst lighting a cigarette into his mouth.

"You...wanna come inside?" He asks nonchalantly, looking at the sky, avoiding your gaze as if to seem cooler than you.

"Why would I do that? I don't wanna know where that bitch has been..." You scoff, referring to the girl. You want to look away from him, but his blonde chest hair glistens in the sunlight, enticing you to follow his instructions. He's not even all military mode on you but you already find yourself acting submissive around his presence again.

He grunts, thinking about what to say next, "Well for starters, Francesca's no one...and, where else are ya gonna go?" The sarcasm is sharp in his voice.

So you were replaced by a Francesca.

"And listen love, face it, you need something from me, come in so we can talk. Can't guarantee we'll do a lot of talkin' though..." His words trails off, trying to convince you. Boy, is it working...

His eyebrows are raised, and he purposely flexes his still wet pecs.

Fuck it. You think, barging into his room, purposely bumping shoulders.

You finally enter Simon's room for the first time.

Simon wasn't completely heartless.

Yes, his childhood trauma resulted in his avoidant nature, ignoring his team in order to work alone on the field, disobeying his Captain to do what he'd deemed as best, and even ghosting you ever time you tried reaching out to you. What you didn't know though, was that Simon had given you his previous phone number, one he doesn't use anymore...

Late nights in his hospital bed led him trying to stalk you through Facebook, which no one your age uses by the way (don't tell him that), and every time his searches led him to nothing.

Had he not been so foolish, he would have manned up and straight up demanded you for your number. But he didn't, instead he told you he'd find you if he needed you, which was becoming more and more infrequent.

Yet here he lies, now clad in a loose black top and sweatpants, sitting across from you on his couch in his oddly empty room, hearing you out.

"'Kay so, your sister wants you at her engagement and you need a date, and you have no other friends but me, and you want me to be your fake date." He repeats back to you.

You hum, "For someone that didn't finish secondary school, you're quite smart."

Simon chuckles at the reciprocates banter, "And...what's in it for me?"

You scrunch your nose, "What?"

"What's in it for me." He enunciates his word, as if speaking to a baby, "What do I benefit from this?"

"Are you fuckin' for real, you've basically used me for your own pleasure, and you can't even fake a relationship in front of my family for like a couple of hours?"

You stand up, ready to leave, not willing to be disrespected again.

"Love, listen," Simon pulls on your arms, and you begin to notice the fresh scars decorating his forearms.

"Our relationship...platonic of course, it's like a business. You want something, you gotta work for it."

You're stunned, did he just insinuate that you were merely a business partner to you? Can this man be anymore of an ass, than he already is, reducing your relationship to a step below a 'situation-ship'.

"What possibly could I have that you need?"

"Yeah," he gruffs out, contemplating his decision, "not money 'cos I got more of that than you..."

He sits there in mock confusion, but you had a feeling he knew what he wanted from you the moment you spat out your request at his door earlier.

Before you try cursing him out again, your attention shifts to the ping from your phone, another unfamiliar number, but not from your sister.

10:32 A.M. ####:- Hey kiddo, how's life been treating you. ####:- Finally gotta a job? ####:- Can't wait to see you, your brother's been waiting to introduce you to his new girlfriend, good addition to the family this time I think. ####:- You're getting older now, unmarried and unemployed. Chop Chop.

Great, just a monthly reminder from your father that you've already been replaced by your brother's new fling for the week.

Now you really needed that date.

"I'll fuck you." You state.

Simon stares at your new found dominance, standing up to purposely look down at you and tower over you, disliking the sense of authority shifting between you two.

"Once again, dove."

"Just. Fuck. Me. Simon. Get this shit over with." You command.

Okay, now you actually felt used. Blackmailed into having sex with Simon, just for him to get what he wants really was the all time low for you. And you've hit rock bottom multiple times.

You wake up light-headed, in Simon's empty bed. The bedside table held a small note in messy handwriting and a singular key.

Headed out to the pub, got a spare key for your room. You better be out of there by the time I get back. Jesus, you got the hint.

You wonder why and where Simon got a spare key from, realising that this situation could have been rectified from the beginning, instead he basically coerced you into sex just to fulfill his needs.

Your mother would die if she knew what your life was like.

Walking back into your room, you shoot a text to Simon, your now fake date, informing him of the fool-proof plan you'd come up with.

As you rest on your couch, thinking about the future ahead of you, and your head unconsciously drifts to that dreaded question:

What if you hurt Simon like he's hurt you?

The next few days was filled with your evenings trying to explain the dynamics of your family to Simon and teaching him more about you.

"And what, they went to the theme park and just left you there? Ain't that borderline abuse?" He questions, a small guilty feeling arising in the pit of your stomach learning about how similar both of yours fucked childhood was like.

You shrug, used to being kicked to the curb. You stop yourself before making some remark that he has no right to act upset about your parents behaviour when he's acting no better.

You tell him your middle name, hell, you tell him the correct spelling of your first name, and you stare at him, embarrassed that this hunk has pounded at your core but doesn't even know the vowels in your name.

"And last week was my birthday if they ask, and you better tell them I celebrated it by going to the cinema with my friends." You inform him, hoping some of this information gets retained into his pea sized head.

Simon cringes, unaware of your birthday, recalling the numerous amount times you'd shot him a smile that day, urging at least one person to wish you a happy birthday. He cocks his head, "What friends?" before correctly himself, "I mean, names wise."

"....you gotta make them up."

Note to self: Make new friends.

The big day comes and you and Simon had driven to the venue of your sister's engagement party. Extravagant was an understatement. Anyone that would look at this event would assume your parents were millionaires, but they're not considering only 2 out of 3 children received trust funds.

You wore a sleek black dress with a slit by your right leg, and Simon matched with a clean black suit which, by the way, you paid for.

Though you would usually drink in his appearance, his recent brooding behaviour gnawed in your mind, so no matter how many smiles he sent your direction, they couldn't dispel the unease settling in your gut.

The first hour consisted of the pair of you awkwardly standing around, drinking numerous glasses of the finest champagne, with his broad arm hovering over your shoulder.

"Where's the family?" He asks eyeing every guy that even so glances your direction.

You shrug, glancing at your unread messages to your sister.

1:00 P.M. You:- hey :) made it, wru??? You:- looks very grand btw!! 1:29 A.M. You:- hello? where's ma? 1:37 A.M. You:- champagne's tastyyy You:- hi wru 1:59 A.M. You:- bruh did you rly invite me just to ignore me???

Simon winces at your phone, reminding himself to finally get your number so at least someone would reply to your messages.

"You made it!"

You both turn around at the chirpy voice, instantly locking eyes with your sister.

"Hey, you didn't read my texts, been here for an hour now." You question, as you're being pulled into a hug.

"Oh that was you? Sorry, I haven't saved you on my phone," she laughs. You glance at Simon almost offended by that, even though you hadn't saved her number either.

"Introduce me to the big guy!" She nudges you, and Simon interrupts you before you open your mouth.

"Lieutenant Simon Riley, and uh- also boyfriend." He extends his arm, and you can't tell whether he's faking his grin or not.

She drags his forearms, yanking him away from you and ushering him along eagerly., "You need to meet my family, come come!", as they walk off together, and you find yourself standing there, left to socialise with someone else.

At 3 P.M., you navigate yourself to your family and your 'boyfriend', whom at this point, had really seemed to fit in with the community. Your father hadn't believed that you scored a buff military commander, and if he wasn't unhappily married to your mother, you'd bet 10 quid that he'd be all over Simon.

"Served in Afghanistan huh?" He chuckles boisterously.

"Yes sir." Simon actually looks like he's having fun, displaying the look of admiration for having an almost father-like figure in his life. He begins you question why you dislike your family so much, they're great!

"And you watch football lad?" He pats Simon on his back.

"Avid fan, sir."

Your father shakes Simon's hand, immediately surprised by his firm grip, "Good man. Don't let go of this one, love." He nods towards you, his smile twitching at Simon, who's basically gripping the bones through his wrist.

You force a smile hugging into your boyfriend's side, shouldn't he be saying that to your Simon, rather than you? I mean it's either your biological daughter you've sort of brought up her entire life versus a solider you've known for about an hour.

"Son, take some notes from your sister, no wonder you're single every other day." Your father reprimands your brother, who flinches from the sudden sound of disapproval and grips his girlfriend's forearm tighter. For sure the first time you're actually than him, at finding a better fake partner.

Your mother, on the other hand, was virtually glued to the other side of Simon, gripping his biceps and fawning over his muscles to your brother, who's actually looked like the only one who saw through your facade.

"Wow, you must really enjoy the gym, sweetie." She bags her eyes, disgustingly.

"Yes ma'am."

She addresses you, for what you think was the first time in over a year, and mouths sternly, "I was wrong, I approve."

The entire event was a drag to you, something you weren't used to at all, considering the majority of your childhood was mainly you being left home during such big events, but Simon managed to enjoy the evening whilst successfully lying to your entire family.

"Me and the missus have been together for 10 months now. She's very happy." He raises his glass to you, eliciting a genuine smile from you. It was times like this that you wished that you and Simon just tied the knot and just began dating. However, you couldn't ignore those underlying feelings of a simmering anger, a desire to confront him publicly for using you for so long.

"I am..." It sounds more like a question than a reply, kissing him, in mock affection.

"You need to stay over our place, Simon darling," Your mother gleams, with your father agreeing, "You can stay in the study!"

"You mean my old bedroom?"

It's midnight, and your family have finally fell asleep in the place you once called home.

You lay next to Simon on your old bed, inspecting your previous room. The walls were no longer painted your favourite colour, but now was coated in a dull grey, your desk now replaced by a vintage looking oak table, definitely all to accommodate your father's taste. Any speck of 'you' had been wiped out from the room, and Simon wonders what young you was like.

"That was very fun...I like 'em, your family." He whispers almost inaudibly, fatigue evident in his words. His arm is draped comfortably around your neck, your head resting in the nook of his armpit.

You hum. The unfamiliar attention Simon had brought up on the two of you exhausted you, though a small part of you liked it, that now your mother actually cared about what you got up with him on a daily basis.

"Simon..." You begin, "What- what are we? If anything..."

You're anticipating his rejection.

"Neighbours..." He mouths silently.

You nod at him, hoisting yourself up on your elbows, although his eyes are closed.

"Simon. It's just that. I know it's all a show...but today it didn't feel like pretend...And when you said you wanted to marry me to my mum, it's just, I don't know, didn't feel fake you know. Felt real..Simon...Simon?"

He snores in response.

Great. You're just confessing to the thin air.

If he doesn't take you out, socialising for almost 9 hours straight will. You pass out next to him, no longer under his arm. Simon lays next to you, watching the slow rise of fall of your chest, after faking a snore.

He stares at the ceiling thinking about the day.

Come morning, and you find yourself sitting at the dining table next to Simon, who'd found himself in a hearty conversation with your parents, sister and future brother in law.

Across from you is your brother, whom you're sure didn't fall for your ruse.

His expression reveals concern as he gazes at you, almost as if he's silently urging you to unravel the tangled web of lies you've woven.

With a swift motion, he picks up his phone, arching an eyebrow in your direction, just as your phone chimes with a notification.

9:12 A.M. ####:- ik you two aren't dating. ####:- better fess up before i do

He smirks at you, your expression mirrors one of close defeat.

9:13 A.M. You:- ik you mad that she cheats on you every friday. You:- better check her private 2nd insta account before i do

Your brother looks up, hesitant to curse you out in front of everyone.

You 1, your brother 0.

Breakfast was served at this time you actually got the same amount of food as your siblings did, although Simon beat all 3 of you for it. Even though your sister was celebrating her engagement, the entire conversation was stuck on you and Simon.

Credits to your parents, because you were actually learning things about Simon, and you wonder if he thinks you're self-obsessed given that you've forced every fact about you down his throat and you haven't even given a minute for him.

"...and my Captain John Price, great guy. She loves him actually." He nudges you, breaking you from your trance.

"Huh."

Everyone on the table turn to you as Simon rubs your knee softly.

"OH. Um, yeah. Mr Price, John, um, great guy, handsome and so hot. Love him. The best really."

As you stumbled over your words, trying to cover up the slip, Simon gave you a reassuring squeeze on your knee. His eyes conveyed a silent message, telling you that it was okay and that they didn't catch you in a lie.

Your brother, however, shot you a knowing look, his expression a mix of amusement and annoyance. It was clear that he had caught onto your the slip up.

"Alright, enough about work," your mother interjected, steering the conversation away from Simon's military life. "Let's talk about something more fun. Like the wedding!"

The topic shifted to your sister's upcoming wedding, and you found yourself for once engaged in a lively discussion with your family about venues, dresses, and guest lists. Simon chimes in, his comments light-hearted and filled with humor.

As the breakfast progressed, you couldn't shake off the feeling of guilt gnawing at you. Your brother's text had reminded you that you were deceiving your family, and although it had started as a harmless ruse, it was beginning to feel like a weight on your shoulders.

After the meal, you and Simon got ready to depart, and as Simon and the rest of your family went to his car, you stood back at the front door, watching how perfect Simon fit in with them.

"It's obvious you don't like him."

You turn to the voice: your brother.

Your groan, "You again? Can't you just leave me alone, God's sake..."

"Aren't you a 'lil worried about how easily he lies though?" he taunts, "how'd you get him here? Money? Or you hold him over a secret? Maybe...sex?"

"What's your problem? Can't you just be happy I'm with someone?" You step back from him.

"Of course I am, if he doesn't like who, who else will, no? I'm just looking out for you bro. It's not gonna last, take it from someone who's in and out of relationships like your guy's in and out of other women."

You squint your eyes at him, confused.

"Grace, Josie, Francesca..." he trails off walking slowly towards the rest of the group. Francesca? That name rings a bell...

"Word of advice, don't leave your phone out in the open, I mean the amount of nudes on there, you'd think his gallery was a porn site! And without a password? Didn't know you were into whores, sis." He cackles.

And here you thought the trip had altered the dynamic.

The ride home was 2 hours too long and too silent. You contemplated your next move. Do you beat around the bush or straight up ask him if he's still seeing other people behind your back? You know he doesn't owe you anything, he is your FAKE boyfriend, right? But, why did it feel so real?

"So..." he starts.

You rest your head on the window, "So..."

His hand moves to your thigh, squeezing gently before moving towards your core slowly.

"That was fun." He states.

You hum.

"Real cool family, huh."

You hum once again, unsure what to say.

"We should do that again..."

You look at him confused.

"Are you serious? I think they still think that they have 2 kids, they focused on you the entire time-"

"Well, it's not like you put in much effort to talk, love."

That shuts you up.

He sighs at your silence, "Listen, I've been thinking."

You glance at him, hoping he'd kick you out of his car and let you walk the rest of the way home, too ashamed to be in his vicinity.

"Your parents were hinting us to take the next move you know..."

"Neighbours to friends?" You question.

He laughs, "Your family's great, your sister's and her lad, real cute couple you know, I felt at home...so I was thinking...we should try it you know, going out I guess."

You scrunch your face at him, was he really convinced into asking you out because your parents asked him? And here you were, months of trying to hint to wanting more, and the moment your demanding parents butt in, he's just going to do what they say? And the fact that he couldn't even say the word relationship.

Who the fuck does he think he is?

You cross your arms in annoyance. You were tired of being pushed around like a doormat.

Your brother's words ring through your head, as Simon drives.

It's not gonna last, take it from someone who's in and out of relationships like your guy's in and out of other women.

All the signs point towards rejecting his proposal. He doesn't want you, he just wants the safest route. You being in a relationship with him isn't going to stop him fucking other women.

Why would you waste your time with a guy to whom you meant nothing to?

So you decide to give it to him directly.

"Yes. I'll be your girlfriend."

Thank you all so much for the interactions on part 1! Means a lot :D THERE WILL BE A PART 3 LMAOOO i did not intend for this fic to be long but here we are. lemme know you're interested to be tagged in my future posts! tags -> @lilliumrorum, @kxtz3, @poohkie90, @rainlovesyou12, @restrictionsapply, @lunamoonbby, @nigthmar3moon, @thychuvaluswife, @itsnourm, @bubusi11, @owkittie

[bigdumbbambieyes]

nsfw

It’s almost one in the morning and Steve opens up the messages app on his phone, seeing the notification from Billy and clicking on it.

A dick pic with an accompanying message: it’s not gonna suck itself.

Steve’s a fucking sucker. No pun intended.

But, he can’t help himself. Not around Billy.

He’s already getting hard just from the picture alone.

He can already feel it in his mouth, stretching his lips and heavy on his tongue, leaking precum in the back of his throat.

Christ.

He responds back: it’s gonna have to bc i’m not driving over.

who said anything about you driving over?

i just assumed.

i’ll be outside in like 2 mins. get your shoes on.

Steve’s hand pauses where it’s stroking himself through his sweats, his eyes widening at the message before he’s rolling out of bed and grabbing a shirt from the floor, along with some socks.

Just as he gets downstairs, pulling his hoodie over his head, he peeks outside and yeah, Billy’s parked at the end of the driveway.

He feels a stupid little thrill sneaking out of his parent’s house, as if he’s not free to come and go as he pleases, and quietly shuts the front door behind him before rushing over to the running car.

Opening the door and sliding into the passenger seat, Billy’s smirking at him and looking down at his crotch, stating, “You got hard over my pic, Harrington?”

“Shut up,” Steve sighs as he leans over, sucking on Billy’s lower lip and giving a soft little laugh as Billy grabs the back of his neck and licks into his mouth, fucking filthy.

Billy doesn’t even go far, just down the street, in between street lights, and leans his seat back a little. Just enough for Steve to not hit his head on the steering wheel as he leans over the centre console.

Steve feels his mouth water as Billy pushes his own sweats down, not even wearing fucking underwear, and pulls his dick out.

And maybe he should be ashamed at how eager he is for this, for these midnight romps, letting himself be picked up and used because it’s what they both want, but he doesn’t feel even an ounce of shame.

Not when he leans down and sucks the tip of Billy’s cock into his mouth, moaning as he feels Billy’s hand in his hair, gripping a handful of it tight in his fist. He doesn’t push Steve down, not yet, but he loves the feeling — like Billy’s anchoring him.

“Fuck,” Billy groans as Steve takes more of him, takes him a little deeper, and purposefully reaches to shut off the stereo, the car filling with the lewd sounds of Steve’s mouth working his cock.

Slurping and sucking like a fucking slut, watching Steve and doing his best to not fuck up into his mouth — not yet.

“Got the prettiest mouth for sucking cock,” Billy sighs, which makes Steve keen softly, a blush spreading over his cheeks as he takes Billy even deeper.

Billy doesn’t stop talking, just grips Steve’s hair a little harder and growls, “Gonna cum down your throat and you’re gonna swallow it like the good boy you are, huh?”

Steve nods and hums, chokes and gags a little as he takes Billy into his throat, hearing the wet click of it and his own dick throbs in his sweats, desperate.

“Might just leave you like this, drop you off at home still hard,” Billy huffs, “Ready to cum in your pants like a fucking whore.”

That makes Steve moan around the cock in his throat, tears gathering in his eyes from the pleasure shooting through him.

“Yeah? You like that, princess?” Billy chuckles mean, “Might just do it. Keep you all pent up, come and visit you in the morning once your folks leave, have you wake up already split open on my cock—”

Fuck, fuck, fuckfuckfuck—

Steve moans and his hips twitch, his cock pulsing in his sweats as he cums untouched, a wet spot forming on the soft fabric.

“Jesus,” Billy groans, pushing Steve’s head down and keeping him there as his hips stutter, moaning out long and loud as he cums, filling Steve’s throat and mouth.

He does his best to swallow, but he pulls off coughing, his eyes a mess of tears and his mouth smeared with cum and spit as he sucks in lungfuls of air.

Billy’s on him in an instant, licking into his mouth with a deep groan, sucking his own cum off of Steve’s tongue and his spent dick gives a pathetic little twitch of interest.

The blond pulls away with a grin, so familiar now even in the dim light, “I knew you were into that shit.”

“What shit?” Steve rasps quietly, leaning back in his seat with a huff.

“The sleeping shit,” Billy clarifies, reaching over and opening up the glove compartment, pulling out a couple fast food napkins and tossing them into Steve’s lap, “You really want to wake up with me inside you, pretty boy?”

Steve thinks about it with a little pout as he wipes his face clean, imagining it: waking up with Billy on top of him, kissing his neck, already stretched out around his cock, probably ready to fucking blow. Christ.

“We could try it,” he mumbles, balling up the napkin and tossing it into the back with a little smirk, hearing Billy’s annoyed huff.

“Well, you better invite me to a sleepover soon,” Billy hums, turning the steering wheel and making a quick U-turn back to the Harrington house.

Steve smiles to himself, delighted, and teases, “I’ll think about it.”

Billy gives him one last filthy kiss before unlocking the car and smiling, humming, “Night, peanut.”

“Night,” Steve smiles back, the whole thing feeling a little too cute and stupid for late night hookup, and pecks Billy’s lips one last time before getting out and going back inside.

He watches Billy drive off and thinks about that sleepover.

[superhaught]

Sweetest Girl (Chapter Three)

Pairing: Regina George x Reader

Warning(s): angstttttttt

Word Count: 2100, Part 3/?

No summary because "so much happened i don't even know what to think" - @sapphicantics

Thank you once again to @sapphicantics for being the best ever <3

Part 1 / Part 2

You saw it coming but it surprised you all the same. Not even two minutes into the fourth episode of Real Housewives that Regina had insisted on starting, she was completely passed out on your shoulder.

Your surprise wasn’t at the fact that she fell asleep, the girls’ exhaustion was obvious. What shook you was that she ended up comfortably tucked against your side, her head leaning on your shoulder, and her gentle breaths tickling your neck. 

You took her Mac off of her lap and gently closed it, setting it aside on the bed while trying to avoid moving too much. 

It was late. If you were someone else, your parents might have expected you home by now. Might even be calling to find out where you were. Might have bothered to get the phone number of the person’s house you were going to in the first place. But you weren’t someone else and you were fairly confident that your presence wasn’t missed, nor would your absence be noticed. 

It was this thought process that pulled a deep sigh out of you which ended up waking Regina. She sat up with a bit of a start and glanced around her room and then back at you, and your shoulder, as she processed where she had positioned herself in her sleep-addled state.

“What… I fell asleep?” She furrowed her brows as she noticed the small trail of drool that had escaped the corner of her mouth. She wiped it away quickly and grumbled, “fucking Christ…” 

“Hey, it’s okay, you were tired. You should go back to sleep.” You started to scoot to the edge of the bed, intending to get up and get going so as to not prolong her embarrassment. 

The blonde, however, did not allow this. She reached out and grasped your wrist, “what are you doing?” 

You stared at her, “I… I’m gonna get out of your hair so you can rest.” 

“No!” Her cheeks flushed the second she realized how she sounded, “no… I mean… I can’t drive right now and I’m not letting you walk home when it’s this late. Just stay.” 

“Stay? You’re sure?” 

“Yeah…” she nodded, “of course, I’m sure. You can, right?” 

“I guess so… is there, like a guest room or a couch you want me on?” 

“What are you talking about? No, just stay here.” 

“What? Won’t that bother you?” 

“No, dummy. Clearly I was able to sleep just fine with you here,” she tried to stop it but Regina couldn’t help but yawn and it made you smile. It was cute. 

“Just,” she fought to speak through the yawn, “grab some clothes you can sleep in out of my closet and then get back in bed…” 

“Regina, are you-“ 

“Shut up. Yes, I’m sure.” She started shoving decorative pillows off of the bed and then slid under the covers and collapsed onto her own pillow. “And hurry up and turn the light off on your way back.” 

You watched her close her eyes and you knew there was no more back and forth to be had. You walked over to Regina’s closet and eventually found a drawer containing a mixture of old summer camp t shirts and knit shorts so you hastily changed into them, turned off the bedroom light, and crawled into Regina’s bed, opposite from her. 

You pulled the covers over yourself and exhaled. Her bed was so comfortable it was insane. It was insane for anyone to have a bed this nice.

And how did her bed smell so good, too? Did the linens get washed every day? You nuzzled your face into the pillow and breathed in. It wasn't a laundry detergent smell, it just smelled like her. 

You closed your eyes and got comfortable. You could hear Regina’s breathing slow down next to you and then you heard her whisper, “‘night.” 

“G’night, Regina.” 

You had the most peaceful sleep of your life. You didn’t know when you last slept in past 8 am at the latest. But at 10 am on this Sunday morning at the George’s, you were still blissfully unaware of the world. 

It wasn’t until you felt motion in the bed that you started to come to. Your eyes cracked open just slightly and were met with an expanse of blonde hair. 

That was weird. 

Your senses clarified quickly then and you realized that your arm was draped over a body, that the body’s back was against your front, that yours and the body’s legs were intertwined. 

You were squarely in the center of your pillow, though. It was the other body that had shifted in the night. Her half of the bed was empty and her bottom arm splayed across her pillow, which she had abandoned in favor of taking the edge of yours. 

The girl took a deep breath and shifted slightly again, rubbing one of her legs against yours. 

You didn’t know what to do. Waking her would mean confronting this situation right now. Pretending not to notice and going back to sleep felt like it would be violating somehow… you ultimately decided the former was better. 

Gently, you gave her upper arm a slight shake and whispered, “Regina… hey, Regina…” 

She grumbled but didn’t wake up. 

You tried again, “Regina… Gina…” 

The blonde sniffled and groaned, “whattime’sit?” 

“Uh… I don’t know,” you answered, “Regina, you’re…” 

She woke up a little more, felt you so close to her, felt that she wasn’t entirely on her side of the bed. She started to sit up. 

“We must’ve-“ 

“Fuck! Fuck fuck fuck!” Regina sat up the rest of the way and pushed your arm off of her, “this was a mistake.” 

You sat up, too, startled by this reaction, “Regina wait, it’s fine-“ 

“No, shut up. My mom can’t see us like this. You need to get up.” 

“Regina, hold on-“ 

“Are you listening?” She hissed, “get up. Now. This was stupid, my fault for having you stay in the bed. We’re going to get dressed and I’m driving you home.” The blonde got out of her bed and beelined for her vanity where she quickly sat down and began harshly brushing through her hair. 

You stood up and took a few steps across the room to go be by her, “Regina, wait, can we talk about this?” 

She looked at you through the mirror and she frowned, “no. We can’t. Get changed.” 

Ten minutes later, Regina was quietly ushering you out the front door of her house and unlocked her Jeep with a click of the key fob. She wordlessly got into her seat and buckled and waited for you to do the same, before backing out of her driveway and starting the route to your house. 

“Regina-“ 

“Whatever you might think last night was… it wasn’t, okay?” 

“What do you mean what I think? I… wait, Regina, I don’t understand. Why are you freaking out? It wasn’t a big deal.” 

“That’s easy for you to say, everyone already thinks you’re a lesbian.” 

“What?”

Regina stepped on her brake as a yellow light turned red and then she turned to face you. 

“That can’t happen again. You can tutor me. You can come to my house like I promised. But that cannot happen again.” 

“But WHAT happened?!” You didn’t mean to shout at her, but you were panicking. 

Regina stared at you. A car behind you honked because the light had turned green. She clenched her jaw and focused on the road again. 

“Pull over.” 

“No.”

“Pull over, Regina.” 

She didn’t respond but she turned her blinker on and pulled to the side of the road and parked on the shoulder. 

“I’m not going home until you tell me what the fuck is going on right the fuck now.” 

She looked at you silently. Her face and eyes were red, like she was on the brink of tears.

Your expression softened, “Regina, please.” 

“You don’t get it, do you?” 

“Obviously not.” 

The blonde sighed and dropped her face into her hands, “for someone who is so smart, you are so stupid…” 

“Then make it make sense. Please.” 

She took a deep breath and then sat back up, rubbing her eyes as she did so, “you’re so sweet… of course you don’t get it.” She faced you then and she looked more upset than you’d seen her, “it was on purpose… I… I wanted to cuddle with you.” 

“You… okay… so?” 

“That’s a bad thing!” 

“Why? Because I’m a nerd?” 

“No! Because you’re not a guy! I can’t like you… like that…” 

You just stared at her. 

“Say something!” 

“I don’t know what to say!” 

“I can’t get that close to you… not again… I can’t… my family can’t know… the school can’t know that… that…” 

“That you might like girls?” 

“That I do like girls. That I only like girls. I’m not out and I can’t come out and so I sure as hell can’t let what happened happen again because… because I…” 

You waited for her to continue. 

“Because I… will want it to keep happening… and then I won’t be able to stop it…” 

“Wait, so… so I don’t get a say? I just… I just have to do whatever the fuck you tell me to… you get to tell me this and then it’s just over? There’s no trying? What if I liked cuddling with you? What if I felt the same way?” 

“Stop. You can’t say stuff like that… you…” Regina started to shake, gasping for air in rapid and shallow breaths as her eyes started to water, “you can’t… I c-can’t… I can’t be… with you… you can’t like me… I can’t-t I can’t…” she was hyperventilating. You reached out and tried to hold her shoulders but she shook you off, smacking your hands away. 

“Regina, breathe… breathe…” you reached for her again only to be met with the same resistance, “no, no. Let me.” You leaned across the center console and wrapped your arms around her in a tight hug. 

Regina gripped your forearm in her hands and squeezed hard. Her manicure pressed crescent moons into your skin and her knuckles were white with the force of her grasp, but you only squeezed her tighter and whispered into her ear, “breathe… just breathe… you’re okay… breathe… come on, now… breathe in… and breathe out… in… out…” 

It took a minute but eventually she followed your instructions and her body started to relax. Her breathing slowed. She coughed and took a deep, but shaky, breath. 

You pressed your forehead against her temple and kept your arms around her while she still held tight to you. 

“I can’t do this…” 

“You can’t do what?”

Regina just shook her head in refusal to answer. 

“Regina… what would make you happy?” 

“That doesn’t matter…” 

“Yes it does. That’s the only thing that matters.”

“No… no…” 

“Regina… look at me.” 

She shook her head in defiance.

“Please?” 

She didn’t respond. 

You reached out and gently tucked your index finger beneath her chin, turning her head to face you, “what would make you happy, Regina?” 

She met your eyes, nothing short of terror written in her expression. She thought for a long moment and then whispered, “I’ve never… felt as free… as I felt last night… with you…” 

You nodded, your own expression saddened by the seriousness of her statement. 

She took another shuddering breath in, “but it’s always going to come crashing down…”

“No… no, come on… it doesn’t have to… can we try… can we please try to figure this out? Together?” 

Regina bit her bottom lip and shook her head, fighting back tears, “n-no… I’m sorry… I can’t. I can’t do this.” 

“Regina-“ 

She pushed your arms away again and then cleared her throat as she pulled her visor down and dabbed her eyes and fixed her hair. 

You stared at her in shock. 

She turned the car back on and pulled back out onto the road. 

“Regina… Regina, please.” 

She shook her head, “I’m taking you home. I’m sorry.” 

“This is fine.” 

“But this isn’t anywhere.” 

“It’s close enough.” 

The blonde glanced over at you, about to ask further questions, but then she just nodded and pulled over. 

You unbuckled and grabbed your backpack off the floor of the car and tried to open the door but she hadn’t unlocked it for you yet. 

“I really am sorry.” 

“Forget it, okay?” 

The blonde frowned. 

“Are you gonna let me out or not?” 

Regina clicked the button to unlock the doors and you got out of the car. Before walking away, you looked at her again, “wait, your chemistry quiz…” 

Regina sighed, “I’ll be fine. I… I just wanted you to come over.”

Next Chapter

[chaoticjjcakes]

Ok, so I’m gonna go on a little rant on here.

I’m a marvel comics fan, my favorite comics were the young avengers comics and absolutely loved the dynamics between the characters. I particularly loved Tommy Shepherd, also known as Speed. Out of the entire lineup of Young Avengers, I somehow saw a piece of myself within his character. But his treatment in Marvel Comics definitely leaves something to be desired. Especially with the whole thinkfast breakup which is is my last straw.

First of all, the writers reasoning for breaking breaking Tommy and David up is ABSOLUTE HORSESHIT! Tommy has no connections to the x-men, no connections to Krakoa, ITS NOT EVEN CONFIRMED IF HE AND BILLY ARE MUTANTS OR NOT! (Which is a whole other ballgame I don’t wanna get into) Their reasoning is flimsy at best and bullshit at worst because of this, and it gets even worse when you introduce a new love interest so soon after they break up OFF PANEL with a seemingly insulting dig at Tommy within the comic.

Second of all, I’m worried how this will affect Tommy’s appearances in comics. The last time we saw him was the scarlet witch and quicksilver miniseries. He barely, if ever gets any appearances anymore and the ones he does show up in, he was with David (Which is probably why the writer thought Tommy was an X-men connection). Tommy is frequently left out of major story arcs and team-ups, leading to me feeling that he is somehow forgotten by the writers and creators at Marvel. While Tommy has been a part of the Young Avengers, he is often overshadowed by other more prominent characters like Kate Bishop, America Chavez, Cassie Lang who’s with Antman, Noh-Varr whos with the guardians of the galaxy, his mother, his uncle, even his own twin brother! He’s often underutilized as well and when he is there, he’s just the goofier version of quicksilver.

Third, we barely get any sense of actual character from him and in moments we do it’s just immediately dropped. First example: scarlet witch and quicksilver #3, where he actively mentioned Davids supposed death (cuz he definitely didn’t know that David was actually alive? I’m kinda confused about this?) and he seemed to be kinda disassociated from with stating he wasn’t there until Pietro snapped him out of it. This isn’t the first time someone has died and Tommy wasn’t there. He finds his mom’s dead body before Trial of Magneto and later in issue 1, seems disassociated when talking with Kevin. In the infinity comics, he states that people always forget about him. I see that he probably often finds himself overlooked and underutilized within the vast universe of superheroes.

Just to headcanon with fact: It’s somewhat implied he may have been neglected. I mean we barely know anything about his life before except that his parents were divorced and he was in and out of juvie until he was a teenager. Considering that they didn’t give a shit about him, leaving their child alone to the court system, and then not contacting him. (Though I doubt he would want that.) He so desperately wants a family, and he sees that in the young avengers, in the magnet family (even if they’re a little fucked up, they’re infinitely better). The team breaks him out, and a kid who looks exactly like him says they’re brothers and this powerful witch is their mother. He doesn’t want to believe it. He can’t believe it because that means he has another family that actually cares about him. Then they find out about everything Wanda went through and he takes in the connection even further. The team goes on a few missions and find out they could save his mom, and then they go through trauma via teammates dying and and the avengers/x-men fighting over his spirit mom. The team decides to breakup, he doesn’t want this to happen, the only thing he has being taken from him, he doesn’t want this to end. But it does, and it hurts, especially because his brother is willing to let go of it so easily. And it’s even harder because he’s living with him, his boyfriend, and other family who’s too nice and so he leaves and no one apparently cares. He goes on with heroics alone, working jobs, meets David and recruits him for a stakeout, then gets kidnapped by an entity. He then comes back almost a year later and has to take it in stride. He goes through so much traumatic and sad shit and either no one cares or they’re too busy. He doesn’t have much support. David seemed to be the only support he had and they’re broken up now. Wanda has her own shit, Pietro has his own shit, Billy has his own shit. HIS OTHER TEAMMATES HAVE THEIR OWN SHIT!

I’d imagine he’d have some type of resentment towards everyone, especially Billy. He has the perfect husband, perfect family, has a great relationship with their spiritual mother, and has unimaginable power. In the infinity comics master pandemonium seemingly implied Tommy has some kind of powerful potential, but we haven’t seen that yet. They haven’t even made any foreshadowing towards that. But I’d imagine after the whole break up with David, he’d have a mental breakdown from all the shit he went through. His boyfriend dying twice while he wasn’t there, after the second time David breaks up with him then gets a new boyfriend almost immediately (I don’t know the timeframe, I’m sorry), I’d crack too.

Considering all of this I introduce the following options:

1.) Put him in a new team. Have him be apart of a new team of youngish heroes, or better yet make him a mentor. He’s great with kids. I can’t think of any actual teams he could be on, but just let him be a part of a team. Please?!

2.) Have him interact with more characters. Have him interact with his family more. Wanda, Pietro, Lorna, Billy, fucking Magneto and Luna, give him more interactions with them. Have him mention talking to Kate Bishop. OR ELI BRADLEY ANOTHER CHARCTER YOU’VE SEEMINGLY FORGOT MARVEL!

3.) Give him his own miniseries. Or a fucking arc. I wanna see my baby do something cool, not play second fiddle to Billy for once. Billy gets several different comics to appear in and has so much power. Give Tommy a power upgrade like in the fanfics. Develop his powers more, like those headcanons where he could manipulate time and space. If the writers on ao3 can do that, you can do it too. Or better yet, have him be an antihero, that would absolutely fit him better. Didn’t he literally kill people when he first appeared? Have him be a bit more violent when dealing with bad guys. Not completely sociopathic, just a bit chaotic.

Anyway, please stop sleeping on Tommy Shepherd Marvel, he has so much more potential, you don’t even know.

Thank you for listening to my Ted-Talk!

Edit: Another thing I’d like to add to this is the fact that in other universes, Tommy is the magic twin…

Or Billy and him have unimaginable power…

So I know that Marvel can explore this. No excuse to just throw Tommy to the wayside like this while Billy gets all the glory.

[chaoticcupcakeee]

Chapter One: Professor Harrington and Mr. Munson

***THERE WILL BE LOTS SMUT 18+ CONTENT EVENTUALLY SO MINORS THIS IS NOT A SPACE FOR YOU, MINORS WILL BE BLOCKED,IF YOU DONT HAVE AN AGE IN YOUR BIO I WILL LIKELY ASSUME YOU'RE A MINOR AND BLOCK. DM FOR ANY QUESTIONS THANKS!<3***

Pairing: Professor! Steve Harrington x Best Friends Dad! Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Not much...YET.. lots of smutty smutt smutt to come. Vague mention of depression/ bad childhood/anxiety , mention of drug use/ cigarette smoking, Eddie and Steve being hot, Reader is in their mid 20s and Eddie and Steve are early to mid 40s

Summary: Reader moves to the one and only Hawkins, Indiana and meets her sexy new sociology professor and realizes she might have a crush on her best friends dad..oops

Authors Note: Hi folks!!! this is so nerve wracking i've never really properly written for either of these characters before except in my head and reading lots and lots of smut! I really hope you guys like it, i'm really excited for what's to come for this series, I haven't thought of a name for it yet so i'm just going to go chapter by chapter but its gonna be a fucking wild ride so buckle your seat belts :) 4k words (Also older Eddie pic by the lovely @eddiemunsons-missingnipple )

**Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five**

(banners and headers by @cafekitsune)

Were you doing the right thing? Could you do this on your own? What if you failed?

Your head filled with doubt now that your dreams you’ve had since you graduated high school were now coming to fruition. You saved up all the money you could, working odd jobs for a few years after high school to have enough money to get out of your hometown and into a good college states away.

You shake away all the negative thoughts, no. This had to work you were going to make sure it worked. This is your new start, to create your own life. It had to be better than back home, where no one gave a shit about you and your own parents didn’t care enough to stick around after you graduated high school, not that they were the most involved parents to begin with anyways. Even the friends you had back home were just party related or friends of friends, you were always on the outside looking in, never properly fitting anywhere. The only reason you decided to move specifically to Hawkins was because your only real friend, Violet, that you’ve had since you were 12 had moved here 10 years ago and you’d made a pact long ago that if you ever got out of that town, you’d follow her here.

You pinch your fingers to the bridge of your nose, willing the thought of your parents and back home to go back into the little dark corner of your brain. You can’t breakdown now, not right before your first class, how pathetic would that be?

“Focus focus focus, come on you got this.” you muttered quietly to yourself over and over until the anxiety subsided. You take a deep breath, willing your lungs to fill with air to cool down your buzzing insides. You look in your car mirror to make sure your makeup still looked good and fidgeted with your clothes.

You were never one to obsess over your appearance by any means, but you really wanted to make a good first impression. You had your hair pulled up into a butterfly clip and had on your favorite dress a pair of black tights and your trusty Dr. Martens. With one final look in the mirror, you sigh and grab your bookbag and get out of your car. You look on your phone to triple check that you were in the right place, the last thing you needed was to be lost or even worse late to your first class.

You’d only moved into your apartment off campus the day before so you haven’t had time to look around the town or get used to your surroundings yet. You noted that your car didn’t stick out like a sore thumb. Your car was a few years old and was always something of an insecurity for you. But most of the cars that filled the almost completely full parking lot were older or used cars, which put you at ease. You head into the Humanities and Social Sciences building and check for a fourth time, Sociology 101 room E142 Professor Harrington.

The room is much bigger than you thought, chairs and desks circling the podium at the front of the room. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding as the room was only half full of other stressed out looking students preparing for their day ahead. You decide to pick a seat towards the middle of the room to not look too eager.

As you’re getting your laptop and books out of your bookbag you hear footsteps walking into the room and the girls behind you immediately start giggling and whispering to each other. You look to see where they’re looking hoping they aren’t making fun of you, you see them biting their lips and looking at the front of the class. You follow their eyeline and your breath hitches.

Where your sociology professor should be standing is an Adonis, he has thick honey brown hair, peppered with grey, that frame his handsome face. His skin impossibly sun kissed like he’d just come back from a tropical island and not living in Hawkins, Indiana. He smiles nervously at the class; his smile is warmer than the sun despite his nervousness, warming you from the inside out. He’s wearing a white button down covered by a navy blue sweater, a pair of grey slacks and black high top converse.

“Ahoy folks! Are you guys ready to set sail on this vast ocean called Sociology with me? I’ll be your Captain Professor Harrington!” he claps his hands, his eyes waiting and hoping for a response.

The girls behind you giggle and a few other students around the room follow suit, he sighs contently. He goes onto explaining the syllabus and assignments for this semester. The class flies by, he’s easy to listen and pay attention to, sure his looks help but he seems genuinely interested in what he’s teaching. Which is a breath of fresh air, you diligently take notes, making sure not to miss anything. Before you know it, class is over and people start packing up their things.

“Oh class before I forget, if any of you are commuters, come get a parking pass from me unless you want a ticket.” he announces to the class, most of the class you assume living in the dorms hurry out of the room.

“Because not only are we charging students tuition we are also charging students just to park on campus, capitalism at its finest folks,” he snorts, shakes his head, and walks to his desk leaning against it.

After finally putting all your things away and checking where your next class is you head up to him. Just being near him makes your heart beat a million miles a minute, like your unworthy of being in his presence let alone so close to him.

He smiles warmer and wider as you stand in front of him, “Hey what can I do ya for?” he asks brightly.

“Oh, uh, I just need a parking pass if that’s okay,” you say quietly.

“More than okay my dear!” he declared. You blush at his words while he picks around in his desk drawer for a parking pass. His nose scrunches up in frustration as the digging becomes hastier and more urgent.

“I coulda swore I put em in here… or did I leave them in my office?... shit,” he breathes.

You giggle at his disorganization, and he looks up at you embarrassed, you wondered how a man who looks like how he does could ever be embarrassed about anything. The girls who sit behind you would agree.

“I promise I’m not usually this discombobulated.. just uh first days always come sooner than I think.” he chuckles

You nod knowingly at him “No worries I can always get it tomorrow or something.” you say waving his worries off.

He looks up at you through his glasses relieved “Really? That- that would be amazing. I would go grab them from my office, but I don’t think I have enough time to before my next class.” He studies you for a second like he’s actually looking at you for the first time.

“What’s your name again hun?” he says casually, as he opens his computer and types on his keyboard.

Your heart flutters at the continued use of nicknames, you take a second to study him again before you respond. He’s hunched over his desk, typing and clicking away on his computer like he’s searching for something. His eyes crinkled at the edges with age, memories of many days smiling and being in the sun. You notice his freckles that adorn his face and neck that you couldn’t see during class. If you had it your way, you’d take your time to count them all to try and make sense of his godly beauty. And his hands.. his hands look so strong effortlessly gliding across his keyboard.

You must have taken too long to answer because he looks up at you expectantly and raises his eyebrow and smirks. You shake your head slightly trying to regain your composure.

“S-sorry first day jitters, my heads a bit scrambled,” you confess to him. You tell him your name quickly, you hoped that your cheeks didn’t look as red as they felt.

His eyes softened a bit and nodded and continued to type on his computer for a couple more seconds before turning to you again.

“I emailed campus security to let them know that it’s my fault you don’t have a pass and if they do give you a ticket just bring it to me and I’ll sort it out for you, okay?” he states and steps away from his computer to face you again.

“Oh wow thank you so much Mr. Harrington, I really appreciate it!” you chirp

His face scrunches up at the name, and chuckles, some of his honey brown hair falling in front of his face, his hand ready to catch them and put the strands back in place. You were mesmerized.

“Uh Mr. Harrington is my father, call me Steve er Professor Harrington works to if you don’t want to be on a first name basis.” He says kindly

“Oh well thank you regardless…Steve.” his name sounds foreign but good on your tongue. You stare at your shoes and then realize that you’ve been in here looking at your professor for far too long.

What the fuck were you thinking? He probably thinks you’re insane but is too nice to say so.

“Ya of course,” he dismisses you easily.

“Anyways I don’t wanna keep you, have a good day,” you apologize.

"You too Y/N,” he calls, as you head out the door, glad that your back is to him so he can’t see you blush again just because he said your first name.

“Get it the fuck together.” you mutter to yourself as you walk aimlessly out of his classroom.

The rest of the day goes without a hitch, you find yourself actually excited for the upcoming topics in your classes. You’ve never given yourself the opportunity to properly nerd out about the things you’re interested in.

You finally get back to your car after all your classes and groan at the sight of a ticket stuck onto your windshield.

“Fuck…” you whine

Too tired to get it taken care of today you drive home and plop on your bed. Even though your classes were super interesting, it was very mentally draining. Extra draining because you’ve tried to force your brain to focus on classes and not think about your sexy sociology professor.

Was he this nice to all his students? Did you catch him eyeing you up while you were talking or were your eyes playing tricks on you? You keep trying to reassure yourself he is just really nice. But his hands… his smile…

You groan and rub your hands against your face trying to shake all the whirling thoughts out of your head. You force yourself to think about literally anything else, then your tummy rumbles. You haven’t had time to grocery shop considering you had just moved in yesterday and your fridge was completely empty except for some bottles of water and condiments.

Your phone buzzes next to you on your bed, you open it and smile.

“BITCHHHH I MISS U COME OVER! You’ve been in Hawkins over 24 hours & ive gotten radio silence from u! ur presence is being requested in the munson household immediately!

P.S Bring food my dad is starving me over here”

“At your service m’lady, cheeseburgers good?” you respond quickly

“ur a life saver babe<3”

Your mind drifts away from your professor and the ticket that is burning a hole in your bookbag. This place already feels more like home than any time you’ve ever spent where you were born. You missed your best friend so much. Violet Munson has been your ride or die best friend for as long as you can remember. You two became friends when you were sitting alone in the lunch room one day and she came and sat right down next to you and you two have been inseparable ever since… that is until her dad decided to move her back to Hawkins to be closer to family after the divorce right before freshman year. You had been crushed getting your best friend ripped away from you like that, but then you guys made the pack to get out of dodge when you could, and now you’re here… in Hawkins,Indiana.

You change into comfy clothes and grab some cheeseburgers, fries, and onion rings from the only burger joint in town and headed over to the Munson residence. You’ve never actually been to her house before because your parents never allowed you to visit after she moved away, so you two mostly kept in contact over constant texts and lots of facetiming.

Pulling up to her house you were more nervous than you thought, you hadn’t seen her in so long and hoped things wouldn’t be awkward. You turned off the ignition, grabbed the food, and went to open your door when you heard a scream come from the front of the house. You lift your eyes to see your best friend jumping up and down on the front porch in her pajamas. Violet had long bright purple hair and thick black eyeliner, kind eyes, a wide smile, and an infectious laugh.

“YOU’RE HERE YOU’RE REALLY FUCKING HERE HOLY SHIT!”

You laughed and dropped all the food in the front seat of your car and ran to meet her in the middle of her lawn and tackled her to the ground. You hugged her tight, squeezing your eyes together wishing the tears at the corner of your eyes to go away.

“Vi I missed you so fucking much.” you whisper

“Awe babe I missed you too.” she shares

You both get up off the grass and you grab the food and head inside. You set the food down in front of the tv like you used to do when she lived closer to you. You sit down on the couch and while she grabs plates. You sigh deeper into the couch, everything was just picking up exactly where you two had left off, you were gonna be okay. You smile quietly to yourself and then head to the kitchen to help her bring everything into the living room. You decide to watch a new horror movie that just came out, the two of you always bonding over everything creepy and spooky. You let Violet tell you about her partner Quinn, who she met a few years ago and was head over heels in love with.

Then the front doorknob jingled, and you heard the familiar thud of heavy boots.

“Ho- holy shit is that Y/N?!”

You turn to face the familiar voice at the door. “Hey Mr. Munson, long time no see!” you breathe.

Fuckk… when did Vi’s dad get so... hot?... what the hell is wrong with you today? First your sociology professor and now your best friends DAD?!

He grins widely at you just like his daughter, he shrugs out of his boots and walks into the living room.

“I got you a cheeseburger on my way over, still like double meat and cheese on your burger?” you question.

Mr. Munson puts a hand over his heart and falls into the love seat next to the tv.

“You remembered, I’m touched sweetheart.” he beamed.

“oh yeah no problem at all!” you blush.

“Well I’ll let you guys catchup, don’t need me harshing the vibes, Vi’s been nonstop talking about you coming to Hawkins  a month!” he chattered

Out of the corner of your eye you see Violet roll her eyes at her father.

“Dad no one fucking says “harshing the vibes” anymore or at all, you’re aging yourself old man,” she chortles

Mr. Munson chuckles and puts his hands up in the air in surrender “Alright alright I’m leaving, if you guys need anything I’ll be in the garage. Thanks again for the burger Y/N!” he says kindly holding up the burger in one of his large tattooed hands.

You beam up at him happy to help, and this time you get a good look at your best friends dad. He’s aged so much better than you could ever imagine a man with Mr. Munsons lifestyle to ever age, the expression aged like fine wine captures it perfectly.

His brown hair still wild and curly as its always been but tied up into a low bun at the base of his neck. Only difference is the now visible little grey streaks that run through random curls. He has more laugh lines at the side of his mouth and the corners of his eyes. Still wearing his normal garb, black jeans with loads of rips, a band tee with a leather jacket. His chocolate brown eyes still full of mischief and debauchery. His nose ring ever present but you spy a few more additions to his tattoo collection, specifically a new neck tattoo and a few more on his hands.

Fuck his hands… wait you have to answer him. Answer him before it’s weird that you’ve been staring at him so long.. you’re really on a fucking roll today.

“It was my pleasure Mr. Munson really,” you gush.

He gives you a wink that goes straight to your core and vibrates in your bones and heads to the garage.

Violet didn’t seem to notice how flushed you were, eyes still on the screen, interjecting at random times when a scene looks to fake or when the blood splattering doesn’t look real enough.

After the movie the two of you head upstairs to Vi’s room, she wanted to show you her new additions to her every growing crystal collection and a few polaroid pictures of her and her partner.

“They literally make me feel like a princess I feel so lucky, for our 3 year anniversary they gave me these black tourmaline pentagram earrings, aren’t they so cute?!”

Your heart fills with warmth, Violet has always been loud and unique, you are so happy for her that she found someone who accepts her for who she is and loves her for it.

“That’s really sweet Vi, i'm so happy you have them, and that they treat you so well,” you grin.

“Thanks… what about you though? You’ve always been very singular… looking to change that any time soon? You deserve to be happy babe, even if it just means getting laid you deserve to get some. You’re a fucking catch dude” ,she compliments

“I mean you know I had a thing with Dylan for awhile before he got back with his girlfriend...” you murmur

“Oh COME ON, you know that’s not what I mean, not some assholes rebound!” she insists

“Vi I don’t have a line down the block like you used to have, you’ve got that whole hot sexy goth girl shit going on, I’m just me.” you babble and point to your gorgeous best friend

“What about Tom? You were with Tom for a long time what happened with him?” she asks obliviously.

“Fuckin cheated on me,” you sigh. Re-living your lack of romantic endeavors to your very not single best friend being up there in the top 10 most pathetic things to date.

“Oh fuck that guy, how fucking dare he!” she sneers while she tries to light the perfectly wrapped blunt in her hand.

“Shit I think my lighters dead, can you go ask my dad if he has an extra?”

You nod and head downstairs and search for the door that leads to the garage, finally you find the door you’re looking for and the image in front of you almost makes you audibly gasp.

Mr. Munson has a cigarette between his lips hes strumming along to some metal song that he’s humming the tune to, occasionally sucking in smoke and blowing out the side of his mouth. His head bobbing to the tune of the song completely in his own world. He’s beautiful.

You look at the way his fingers move to the beat and strum the strings on his guitar, mesmerized by how pretty they are. You can see all the calloses on his hands from all of the years of playing.

Your hand moves without thinking and knocks on the side of the garage door, getting Mr. Munsons attention.

“Oh shit, hey honey, ya need something?" He questions

“oh yeah sorry, Vi’s lighter ran out, and we were trying to light a blunt, you got an extra?” You ask.

Growing up, Mr. Munson had always been the more laid back between Violets two parents, letting her test the waters herself allowing more than the normal parent would. But as long as she was being safe and not doing any hard drugs he was mostly lenient with her. Not that it mattered much now that she’s grown.

“Uh yeah I probably got one around here somewhere, come pop a squat while I look.” he gestures to the chair beside him.

Your legs wobble while you move into the garage, it smelled so uniquely of him. His leather jacket draped over the back of his chair, smoke in the air, and metal music playing lowly in the background.

His space made you feel at home, the garage door was open so you could see the sun setting in the sky, and the metal music is weirdly comforting. You find yourself tapping your feet to the beat.

Eddie went to his truck looking for an extra lighter and your eyes wander to his guitar. You can tell he really cares about it, its clean, the strings look freshly changed, and recently polished.

“Oh yeah she’s a beaut isn’t she?" He observes proudly, leaning against his car with a new found lighter in hand.

“Yeah really pretty Mr. Munson,” you remark.

He smiles at you, “Here ya go, I don’t know how much juice is left in it.” He hands you the lighter, for the few seconds your hands connect you see how much bigger his hands are than yours, it almost makes you topple over in your chair.

“Thanks,” you reply. You grab the lighter with your hand and put it in your pocket and push out of the chair headed back into the house.

“Were you always this shy?” he asks inquisitively.

You turn around to face him confused by his question, you never really considered yourself shy, it just takes some time for you to come out of your shell.

“Shy?” you reply. fidgeting with a loose string on your sweatpants, your lips in a fine line.

“Yeah..you just seem.. shy or sad maybe, you doin okay?” he presses

You sigh hard trying to find the right words to explain the last few years and what would be appropriate to share with your best friends dad. “I’m fine really, just a long few days.” you share and smile to try and make it convincing.

He clicks his tongue and you know that he doesn’t believe you, your heart sinks. You never want to put your sadness or hurt onto anyone else, you’re a big girl and you can handle it on your own. You change the subject to the empty beer glass on the table in front of him, “Need another beer?” you ask

“Read my mind darlin, thanks,” he replies.

You head to the kitchen to grab him his beer and head back to the garage to bring it to him. When you get back he’s back at it strumming on his guitar in his own world, you wish for a second maybe you could just sit in his little world with him, it’s quiet and peaceful, no thinking required. You set the beer on the table and turn to head back upstairs.

“Hey Y/N, if you need anything or even just to talk I’m around, I know I’m not Violet, but if you need another friendly face, I’m here.” he smiles warmly at you.

Your heart melts, of course he’s the sweetest man in the whole world. “Thank you Mr. Munson that really means a lot,” you blush. Thankful to have one more person in this town on your side.

You close the door behind you and rush back upstairs hoping Violet doesn’t notice how long you’ve been gone. You hear voices and giggling on the other side of the door,

She’s on the phone with Quinn.

“She’s returned! Come here I want you to meet Quinn!” she exclaims. You breathe out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, no excuse necessary. Your friendship with Violet has always easier than breathing. You spend the rest of the night smoking weed and talking on the phone with her partner, glad to have the distraction from your recent interaction with her dad.

Did he really mean what he said? Or was he also just being nice? I guess he kind of has to be nice to me, being his daughters best friend. Plus he’s so out of my league, a man like him would never go for a girl like me, right?

Only time will tell.

No Pressure Tags!: (Just tagging some mutuals I thought might enjoy!) ** If you wanna be tagged in the next fic lemme know**

@untitled74745 @eddiemunsons-missingnipple @munsonology @lesservillain @tlclick73 @dukesmebby @cozyquinn @rowanswriting @succubusmunson @teddyeyeseddie @lofaewrites @chaoticmunsons @ryan-waddell11

[worldlxvlys]

bae whenever ur free or feel like it could u write a Chris fluff where like ur stressed out about school and stuff and ur parents are always hard on you about it and he like comforts you and tells you everything’s gonna be okay?

not alone

chris sturniolo x reader

warnings: cursing, just fluffy

a/n: ily, hope you enjoy <33

my hands shook against my steering wheel as tears flooded my field of vision.

i tried my best to stop them from obstructing my view, frantically wiping my eyes, but they continued to fall.

“fuck” i cried out between sobs.

i have to stop driving.

i pulled over, putting my car into park and staring out of my windshield.

i wasn’t even able to focus on the road when i was driving. my thoughts were consumed by every assignment that i had due, my next test, working harder, getting better grades. even when i tried to give myself a break, it was always there in the back of my mind.

i could practically hear my parents, “you need to do better” “are you even trying?” “tired? tired from what?” “you need to start taking this more seriously”

i couldn’t help but let my mind be consumed by the negative thoughts.

i picked up my phone, clicking on chris’s contact.

“hello?”

“chris? i really need you” i tried my best not to make it obvious that i had been crying, but my shaky voice gave it away.

“are you crying baby? what’s wrong?”

“just school and everything. but i can’t drive, can you come get me ?” i asked.

there was some talking in the background, presumably chris asking matt if he could give him a ride.

“of course, ma. matt and i are on the way. do you want me to stay on the phone?”

“no it’s ok, we can talk when you get here”

“ok, i love you”

“love you too”

i hung up the phone and rested my head back on my seat, trying to slow my tears.

when they arrived, chris got out of the car and made his way to mine.

when he entered the car, his eyes softened as he took in my current state.

“hi baby” he said as he held his arms out for a hug.

i placed my arms around his shoulders, resting my nose in the crook of his neck.

without warning, the tears started again and my body shook against his.

he soothingly ran his hand up and down my back, whispering into my ear.

“i know, baby. i got you, let it out”

“it’s too much, chris. nothing that i do is ever enough for them” i sobbed into his shoulder.

“hey, you’re doing amazing. i’ve watched you put in so much work, i’m sorry they don’t see that”

i pulled away to look him in the eyes.

“i’m so fucking proud of you” he said as he wiped my tears and cupped my cheek with his hand.

“it may not seem like it now, but you’re gonna get through this. i’m not going anywhere, ok ?”

i nodded in response.

“come here, baby” he said as he opened his arms.

i climbed over the console, sitting on his lap and laying my head on his chest.

he wrapped his arms around me and placed a kiss on my forehead.

“everything’s gonna be ok ma. you don’t have to deal with this by yourself, ok? we’ll figure it out” he said as he gently ran his hand up and down my back.

“thank you, chris” i whispered.

“anything for you, baby”

—————

sorry it’s kinda short, hope you still like it tho <33

masterlist

tag list: @lovingsturniolo @lustfulslxt @gwenlore @flowerxbunnie @sturnssx @mattslolita @its-jennarose @sturnspepsi @sophssturn @bernardsleftbootycheek @queen161718 @chrisdevora @cupidsword @nickmillersn1gf @stramboli4life @mattsneezing @chrisstankyleg @sturniolobltch @vib3swithanuk @ciarasturn1 @bethsturn @bernardenjoyer @mbbsgf @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @ssturniolo @blueeyedbesson @mxqdii @sturniolowhore @rheaakayourname @defnotayonna @urmom2bitch @abbie13sworld @starsturniolo @hearts4chriss @theyluv-meee @sturns-posts @carolinalikesthings @itzdarling @chrisstopherfilmed @judespoision @sstvrnioloo @littlebookworm803 @nicksdrpepper @chrisloyalgf