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meazalykov · 3 days ago

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livestream

jule brand x gamer!reader

summary: a mistake will force the both of you to admit something.

the familiar hum of your dual monitors fills the room as you settle into your gaming chair, adjusting your headset and taking a sip of water.

your fingers tap against the desk rhythmically, a mix of nerves and excitement bubbling inside you as the stream countdown ends. the chat is already alive, scrolling at a speed that’s hard to keep up with. you catch glimpses of messages—“hi y/n!” “top streamer is back (kai wishes)”—and giggle to yourself.

your audience is loyal, supportive, and somehow manages to make you feel connected even though you’ve been living halfway across the world from your home country of the united states for almost a year now.

“hey, everyone!” you greet, voice warm and cheerful. you lean forward, adjusting the mic closer to your mouth.

“how’s it going? what’s everyone been up to today?”

a flurry of replies fills the screen. some talk about work or school, others ask what game you’ll be playing, and a few just spam emotes in excitement.

“okay, okay,” you say with a laugh, waving a hand at the camera as if to calm them down.

“before we jump into a game, let me give you a quick rundown of my day since some people in the chat are asking. it’s been a busy one, not gonna lie.”

someone gifts you a sub, the notification popping up on the screen. you grin, glancing at the message:

“how was your day, y/n?”

“see! my day? it was good!” you say, leaning back in your chair.

“a little hectic, though. i went out for breakfast this morning at this cute little café downtown in wolfsburg—you know the one i mentioned last week? their cappuccinos are insane. afterwards i had to run around and grab some last-minute christmas gifts for my family back in the states. classic procrastination on my part.”

you laugh softly, pausing briefly as you think about the rest of your day. you’re so comfortable, so used to chatting openly with your audience, that the words come out without much thought.

“then, my girlfriend jul—”

you freeze. your heart skips a beat as the realization hits you like a ton of bricks.

“uh, i mean, my friend jule and i went out for lunch before her training session,” you say quickly, stumbling over the words as you try to backtrack. but it’s too late.

the chat explodes.

“DID SHE JUST SAY GIRLFRIEND???”

“WAIT WAIT WAIT.”

“i KNEW IT WAS JULE.”

“not lynn wilms????”

you can feel your face heat up as you glance at the chat. it’s moving so fast that you can barely make out individual messages, but the general vibe is clear: they caught your slip-up, and there’s no taking it back.

“uh…” you laugh nervously, running a hand through your hair. “i… yeah, i fucked up, didn’t i? shit the stream hasn’t even really started yet ha ha” you mumble, more to yourself than to the chat, but of course, they hear it.

the chat continues to erupt with a mix of excitement, shock, and jokes. some viewers are celebrating, others are teasing you, and a few are still trying to piece everything together.

“okay, okay, calm down, everyone!” you say, holding up your hands as if that could somehow stop the chaos. “look, i think that’s enough excitement for one stream. i’m gonna go, even though i just got on, before i dig myself into an even deeper hole. i’ll see you all tomorrow, okay? have a good night!”

with a click, you end the stream, the screen going black as you sit back in your chair with a heavy sigh.

“oh my god,” you mutter, covering your face with your hands. your phone buzzes on the desk, and you already know who it’s from.

sure enough, it’s lynn.

lynn: I watched the stream. uh oh..

you groan, typing back quickly: yeah… i think i just outed me and jule to the entire internet.

your phone buzzes again almost immediately, but this time it’s not a text. it’s jule calling. your stomach flips as you stare at her name on the screen, hesitating for a moment before answering.

“hey…” you say cautiously, your voice small.

“so… did you do what i think you did?” jule asks, her tone calm but with a hint of curiosity.

“i’m so sorry,” you blurt out, the words tumbling out in a rush.

“it just slipped out! i was talking about my day, and i wasn’t thinking, and then—”

“y/n,” jule interrupts, her voice steady.

“breathe. it’s okay.”

“but we agreed to keep it private for at least a year, and now—”

“y/n,” she says again, a little more firmly this time.

“it’s okay. i know you didn’t mean to. honestly, people were going to figure it out eventually.”

you fall silent, guilt still gnawing at you.

“are you sure you’re not mad? because i feel awful, jule. like, seriously awful.”

“i’m not mad,” she reassures you, her voice softening.

“i promise. if anything, it’s kind of funny. you tried so hard to cover it up, but your chat is way too smart for that.”

you let out a small, reluctant laugh.

“yeah, they’re too smart for their own good but still, i feel like i messed up.”

“you didn’t,” she says firmly.

“it’s fine. really. now stop beating yourself up about it, okay?”

“okay,” you mumble, though the guilt still lingers.

the week that follows is a blur. the initial frenzy around your slip-up starts to die down, but the topic still pops up in your community and on social media. jule keeps things normal between you two, never bringing it up unless you do, which helps ease some of your worry.

still, you can’t shake the feeling that you let her down.

then, one afternoon, your phone buzzes with a notification from jule’s instagram story. curious, you open it, and your heart skips a beat.

there, on her story, is a picture of you two from a few weeks ago.

(pretend this is jule and you of course)

your jaw drops as you stare at the post, reading and rereading the words.

quickly calling jule, your voice a mix of shock and amusement.

“you really just hard-launched us like that?”

“well, people already knew, didn’t they?” she teases.

“might as well...”

the taller blond gets cut off as you laugh, the sound finally free of the guilt that’s been weighing you down all week.

“you’re amazing, you know that?”

“i do,” she says, her tone playful.

“and so are you. now, can we move on from this?”

“yeah,” you say, and this time, you mean it.

masterlist

#jule brand #woso fanfics #woso community #woso x reader #gerwnt #vfl wolfsburg women #lynn wilms

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loveesiren · 2 days ago

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𝖤𝗆𝖾𝗋𝗀𝖾𝗇𝖼𝗒 𝖢𝗈𝗇𝗍𝖺𝖼𝗍 (𝖯𝖺𝗋𝗍 𝖳𝗁𝗋𝖾𝖾)

Rafe Cameron x Reader

a/n: here is the third and perhaps final part? of Emergency Contact. I am open to the idea of writing more for this if you guys have some ideas you want to share with me! Otherwise, thank you so much for enjoying this mini series! I loved writing it and I can't wait to write more for Rafe <3 (Also, please lmk if tags aren't working!)

synopsis: Y/N has always been close to the Cameron family, practically a part of it after years of friendship. Beneath the surface, unspoken feelings simmer between her and Rafe, but neither of them can muster the courage to admit it. When Y/N finally decides to move on, setting her sights on a new man, he’s forced to confront the truth: losing her might cost him more than he ever realized.

warnings: language, angst, drug use (cocaine), alcohol, mention of rehab

wc: 4k+

The days that followed were a blur of beer, late-night adventures, and laughter with the Pogues. You told yourself you were over it, that you didn’t need Rafe’s attitude bringing you down. JJ had become a constant in your life, his arm draped over your shoulder more often than not. However, you still felt an empty hole in your chest.

You supposed you and JJ were a thing now, though you hadn’t put a label on it. He liked showing you off, and you didn’t mind the attention—especially when his lips trailed down your neck, leaving goosebumps in their wake. You let him explore your body, but you always stopped things before they went too far.

JJ didn’t say much about it, but you could tell he was frustrated. Still, he didn’t push you, which you appreciated.

A few nights later, you were sprawled across the couch with the Pogues, laughing as Sarah flailed her arms during a particularly dramatic game of charades. Her phone buzzed rapidly on the table beside you, but she didn’t notice.

“Sarah!” you called, grabbing her phone. “Your dad is blowing up your phone!”

The carefree energy in the room shifted as Sarah snatched her phone from your hands. Her brows furrowed as she read through the missed calls and texts. “Shit…” she muttered, worry creeping into her voice.

“What’s wrong?” Kiara asked, the concern spreading to everyone else.

“My dad can’t get in touch with Rafe,” Sarah said, her tone uneasy. “He’s out of town and freaking out.”

“Is Rafe okay?” you asked, your stomach twisting with sudden anxiety.

“I’m sure he’s fine,” Sarah said quickly, but her eyes darted to the screen again. You could tell she wasn’t being entirely honest. “I just need to check on him. I’ll be back soon.” She grabbed her keys and hurried out the door.

You sat there, staring at the spot where Sarah had been. Pulling out your phone, you opened your text thread with Rafe. It had been five days since you’d last heard from him.

Are you okay? you typed, hesitating for only a second before hitting send.

The screen remained blank, no reply. With a heavy sigh, you tucked your phone back into your pocket and turned back to the group.

“I’m sure everything is fine,” JJ said softly, brushing your hair aside to kiss your cheek. He pulled you closer, offering comfort, but it didn’t reach the pit of unease growing in your chest.

“Yeah…” you mumbled, trying to believe him. But your mind was elsewhere.

All you could think about was Rafe.

“Rafe?” Sarah’s voice echoed through the house as she stepped inside. The space was dark and suffocatingly quiet, save for the faint thrum of music coming from down the hall. She reached for the light switch, illuminating the chaos around her—Rafe’s belongings strewn across the house like an abandoned battleground.

As she moved into the kitchen, her stomach twisted. Empty liquor bottles were tipped over on the island, surrounded by half-smoked joints and cigarette butts. She frowned, fighting the wave of dread rising in her chest.

“Rafe?” she called out again, louder this time, as she ventured deeper into the house. Her sandals crunched against the sticky floor. The music grew louder as she approached the master bedroom, the sound of heavy metal shaking the walls. It was a genre so foreign to Rafe that it made her pause.

Reaching for the handle, Sarah opened the door slowly, peeking inside. The sight before her made her heart drop.

Rafe sat slumped over his dresser, shirtless, his jeans undone and his hair disheveled. A half-empty bottle of Jack Daniels stood beside him, its sticky contents dripping down the side. He sniffed at the surface of the dresser, the residue of white powder glaring under the dim light.

“Rafe…” Sarah whispered, stepping in to lower the volume on the stereo. The silence that followed was heavy. “I thought you quit,” she said, her voice trembling as she fought back tears. Seeing him like this—broken, lost, a shadow of the brother she thought she’d gotten back—was almost unbearable.

Rafe didn’t look at her. Instead, he exhaled sharply, his shoulders sagging. “Why’d you do it, Sarah?” he asked, his voice hoarse and low.

“D-Do what?” she stammered, blinking back tears.

He didn’t respond immediately, focusing instead on organizing another line of cocaine with unsteady hands.

“Dad’s worried,” she said, trying to keep her composure. “He told me to check on you. Rafe, what’s wrong? Why are you doing this? Y/N said you’d been acting weird, but I—”

“Y/N…” he interrupted bitterly, spitting out your name like it burned his tongue. “That’s the problem, Sarah.”

Sarah froze, her stomach tightening as Rafe finally turned to look at her. His bloodshot eyes were sunken, the pain etched deep into his face. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days.

“Why’d you hook Y/n up with JJ?” He asked, his voice breaking. “You knew—” He inhaled sharply, as if bracing himself. “You knew I fucking liked her, Sarah! You knew I…”

He trailed off, choking on his words.

Sarah’s lip quivered as she stared at him, tears spilling down her cheeks.

“You know I love her,” Rafe admitted, his voice barely audible as he crumbled to the floor. His back hit the edge of the bed, and he buried his face in his hands. The weight of those words hung heavy in the air. For so long, he’d buried the truth, but now it was out, raw and unfiltered.

Sarah knelt beside him, pulling him into her arms. “Rafe…” she murmured, her voice thick with emotion. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know. You never told me…”

Rafe shook his head, his body trembling as he sobbed. “It doesn’t matter. She’s with him now,” he said, his voice cracking. “I ruined everything. I treated her like shit, Sarah. She’s never going to forgive me. Never.”

Sarah held him tighter, her heart breaking for him. She didn’t know what to say, so she just let him cry. His sobs eventually softened, the exhaustion of the past few days finally catching up to him.

She helped him into bed, pulling the covers over him as he drifted into a deep, uneasy sleep. His breathing evened out, the rise and fall of his chest steadying. Sarah lingered for a moment, watching her brother in the dim light. He looked so fragile, so unlike the Rafe she grew up with.

Once she was certain he was asleep, she quietly left the room, leaving the door cracked open behind her. She pulled out her phone and dialed Ward, holding it to her ear as she began to clean up the kitchen.

“Yeah, he’s okay now,” she said, responding to Ward’s worried question. “I’m letting him sleep it off. I’ll get rid of the drugs and clean up the place, but… he’s not okay, Dad. He’s really not.” Her voice broke, but she steadied herself, wiping away a tear.

Ward’s response was short but decisive. “I’ll be on the next flight out.”

Hanging up, Sarah continued to clean, throwing away bottles and sweeping up the debris of her brother’s downward spiral. She was scrubbing the counter when her phone buzzed. The screen lit up with your photo, your name glowing brightly.

Sarah hesitated, her hand hovering over the phone. She sighed deeply before answering. “Hey…” she said softly, already knowing this wasn’t going to be an easy conversation.

You glanced at JJ, passed out on the couch across the room. His frustration earlier had been palpable—trying and failing to get you to sleep with him yet again. But how could you? Your mind was elsewhere, consumed with worry for Rafe. JJ had finally given up and flopped down, his snores starting almost instantly.

You scoffed, clutching your phone tighter in your hand. If JJ truly cared about you, he wouldn’t be pressuring you when you were clearly preoccupied. He wouldn’t be making this about himself. The analog clock on the wall read 2:13 a.m., and each unanswered ring on the phone made your anxiety climb higher.

Finally, Sarah’s soft voice came through. “Hey…”

“Sarah!” you exclaimed, standing up abruptly. “What’s going on? Is Rafe okay?”

There was a long pause, and her hesitation made your stomach drop. “Uhm…” Her voice cracked, and you knew.

“Sarah, what is it?” you asked, your voice trembling.

“Yes and no,” she finally said. “He… he relapsed.”

The weight of those words hit you like a freight train. You sank back down into the chair as tears blurred your vision. “Fuck…” you whispered, your voice breaking. You wiped at your face, but the tears kept coming. “I knew something was wrong. I tried, Sarah. I tried to get him to talk to me, but he just—”

“Y/N,” Sarah interrupted, her voice urgent but soft. “Can you just come over? I think he needs you right now.”

Her words stopped you in your tracks. “Me? Why would he need me?”

“Please,” she pleaded, ignoring your question.

You didn’t need to hear more. “I’m on my way,” you said, grabbing your keys and heading out the door.

When you arrived at Rafe’s house, the dim light spilling out from the kitchen was the only sign of life. You stumbled inside to find Sarah sweeping up broken glass, the remnants of Rafe’s spiral.

“Where is he?” you asked, your voice breathless.

“He’s sleeping,” Sarah replied, her tone weary. She leaned against the counter and set the broom aside. “My dad’s flying back in the morning.”

You hesitated, watching her carefully. “Do you know what happened? Why does he… why does he need me?”

Sarah sighed deeply, dropping onto one of the barstools at the island. “I think I might’ve messed up,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

Your brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

She hesitated, her eyes darting to the floor. “Rafe… he…” She trailed off, struggling to find the words.

“He what, Sarah?” you snapped, your patience wearing thin. “Just say it!”

Sarah’s gaze shot up to meet yours, her voice breaking as she blurted out, “He loves you, okay?!”

Your heart stopped. The air left the room. “What?” you whispered, your voice shaky.

Sarah softened, guilt etched across her face. “He loves you, Y/N. And I didn’t know… I didn’t know how much. I thought it was just some crush. He never made a move, so I figured he didn’t care. I thought setting you up with JJ would be fun, but I-” She sighed, her words tumbling over each other.

“Sarah, stop,” you said, cutting her off. She was spiraling, and you could barely keep up with her frantic explanations. “It’s not your fault.”

The room fell silent, and her words hung heavy in the air. Rafe loved you. He always had. And you—stupid, oblivious you—had missed it.

Sarah studied you for a moment, her tear-filled eyes softening. “Do you love him?” she asked quietly.

You nodded, a tear slipping down your cheek.

Her lips curved into a brief, sad smile as she wiped at her own tears. “Go to him,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t know what’s going to happen when my dad gets back. He’ll probably send him off to rehab again, but… he needs you right now.”

You gave her a small, grateful smile, your heart hammering in your chest as you stood. Sarah returned to her cleaning, giving you the space you needed.

Rafe’s bedroom door creaked softly as you pushed it open, slipping inside. The room was dark, lit only by the faint glow of the streetlights outside. Your gaze landed on him, sprawled across the bed. He looked so vulnerable, so unlike the confident and composed Rafe you’d always known. His chest rose and fell steadily, his lips slightly parted. Beads of sweat clung to his forehead, and his hair was a disheveled mess.

Your heart ached as you stepped closer. You could see the toll the past few days had taken on him—the flushed cheeks, the dark circles under his eyes, the faint tremor in his hand even as he slept.

Carefully, you slid into bed beside him, your weight barely shifting the mattress. You reached for his hand, lacing your fingers through his. His grip tightened instinctively, and you smiled softly, a tear slipping down your cheek.

“I love you, Rafe,” you whispered, your voice trembling. You didn’t know if he could hear you, but it didn’t matter. For the first time, you let yourself say the words out loud.

And for the first time in days, you felt like you were exactly where you were meant to be.

Your eyes fluttered open to the early morning sun peeking through the blinds. The air was heavy, a mix of stale whiskey and regret clinging to the room. You turned your head slightly, finding Rafe curled into you. For someone usually so imposing, he looked impossibly small, trembling as the aftershocks of withdrawal rippled through his body.

“Rafe?” you whispered, brushing the damp strands of hair from his forehead. His cheek was flushed under your palm, warm and slick with sweat.

“It’s freezing…” he mumbled, though his skin burned with fever.

You frowned, heart aching at the sight of him. “Come on, let’s get you in the shower,” you murmured gently.

Helping him out of bed proved to be a challenge. He groaned as you maneuvered him upright, his body heavy and uncoordinated, but you were determined. Once you were in the bathroom you carefully peeled his jeans off, leaving him in his boxers, before guiding him toward the shower.

The sound of the water rushing into the tub filled the space. You adjusted the temperature until it was lukewarm—cool enough to help his fever but not cold enough to make him shiver. As soon as Rafe stepped under the spray, he slumped to the floor of the tub with a heavy groan, his knees drawn up, arms resting limply on them.

You perched on the closed toilet lid, keeping an eye on him. He looked utterly spent, the water coursing over his fevered skin, plastering his messy hair to his forehead. You pulled out your phone to find a text from Sarah.

Dad’s flight is delayed. Won’t make it until tonight.

You exhaled in quiet relief. At least you had more time to be here with Rafe before Ward arrived and took over.

Can you bring me a liquid IV? I’ve got him in the shower, you texted back.

Minutes later, there was a soft knock on the bathroom door. You opened it just enough to see Sarah holding a glass. She handed it to you, her brows furrowed with worry. “How’s he doing?”

“He’s coming down,” you said, taking the glass from her. “He’s got a bit of a fever, but I think he’ll be okay.”

Sarah bit her lip but nodded. “Okay… I’ll make some breakfast,” she said quietly.

“Thanks, Sarah. We’ll be out soon,” you assured her, closing the door again.

You turned back to Rafe, who hadn’t moved from his spot on the shower floor. His shoulders were hunched, the water cascading down his back. Slowly, you crouched by the tub and opened the shower door.

“Rafey,” you coaxed gently, holding the glass out. “I need you to drink this. It’ll help, okay?”

He lifted his eyes to meet yours, glassy and tired, but he obediently took the glass with trembling hands. You guided it to his lips, helping him sip slowly. It took a few minutes, but he managed to finish it, and you set the empty glass aside with a soft smile.

“Good job,” you said softly, brushing your fingers against his damp hair.

Rafe’s voice broke through the quiet. “I’m so sorry, Y/N,” he rasped.

You shook your head, crouching closer. “You don’t need to be sorry.”

“I fucked up,” he sighed, his head dipping forward.

“No, Rafe, I did.” You bit your lip, your voice trembling as you confessed. “I should’ve told you a long time ago… that I love you.”

His head snapped up, his bloodshot blue eyes locking onto yours. “You what?” His voice cracked, almost disbelieving.

You nodded, tears threatening to spill. “I love you, Rafe. And I’m so sorry I didn’t realize sooner. I should’ve known something was wrong. I should’ve been there for you…”

Rafe stared at you, his body frozen as your words sank in. Every chaotic thought in his mind came to a halt, silenced by the sheer weight of your confession. Before either of you could second-guess the moment, he reached out, his strong hand pulling you into the shower with him.

“Rafe—!” you gasped as the water soaked through your clothes, but your protest died on your lips as his mouth found yours.

The kiss was soft yet desperate, his lips trembling against yours, the weight of unspoken years pouring into the moment. It took you a second to process what was happening, but then you melted into him, snaking an arm around his neck and tangling your fingers in his damp hair.

Every problem, every heartache, every unanswered question disappeared as his hands slid up your back, anchoring you to him. He kissed you like you were the air he needed to breathe, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you let yourself forget the world outside.

When the kiss finally broke, you were both breathless. His blue eyes bore into yours with an intensity that made your chest ache. Your mascara ran in streaks down your cheeks, and strands of wet hair clung to your face, but none of it mattered.

“I love you,” he whispered, his voice hoarse but steady.

You smiled through your tears, brushing a thumb over his cheek. “I love you too, Rafe.”

In that moment, nothing else mattered. Not Ward, not Sarah, not the mistakes or the pain. Just you and Rafe, tangled together, the water washing away everything but the promise of a new beginning.

You and Sarah spent the day nursing Rafe back to health. Between making sure he ate and keeping him hydrated, most of your time was spent curled up with him on the couch. He gravitated toward your warmth, his head resting on your shoulder as Adventure Time played softly on the TV. His apologies spilled out at regular intervals, at least once every thirty minutes, as though they were on a timer.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured for what felt like the hundredth time, his voice barely above a whisper.

You ran your fingers gently through his hair, offering a soft smile. “Rafey, it’s okay. We’ve already forgiven you.”

Sarah chimed in from the kitchen, “She’s right. We just want you to focus on getting better.”

But no matter how much reassurance you both gave him, Rafe couldn’t seem to forgive himself. His relapse haunted him—forcing his dad to cut a business trip short, the anger he’d unleashed on you, the guilt over falling back into old habits. He swore up and down he’d never touch cocaine again, especially now that he had you, but addiction wasn’t that simple. You knew the moment Ward arrived, he would take charge of the situation.

The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the room as you snuggled deeper into Rafe’s arms. Between soft kisses and whispered promises of a future together, you tried to savor the quiet moments. In the kitchen, Sarah hummed softly as she worked on dinner, the smell of roasted potatoes and chicken wafting through the house.

Then, the front door slammed open. The calm shattered as Ward’s heavy footsteps echoed through the house.

“Where is he?” Ward’s voice boomed, sharp with frustration and worry.

Sarah stepped into the living room, wiping her hands on a dish towel. “On the couch with Y/N,” she said quietly, her eyes darting to you and Rafe.

Rafe tensed beside you. You placed a comforting hand on his chest, but he was already pushing the blanket off and rising to his feet.

“Hey, Dad,” he said softly, his voice thick with shame.

Ward’s expression was a mixture of relief and disappointment as his eyes scanned his son. Without a word, he crossed the room and pulled Rafe into a firm embrace. Rafe stiffened at first but then melted into it, his head dropping to Ward’s shoulder.

“Let’s go talk,” Ward said gruffly, his hand gripping Rafe’s shoulder as he guided him toward the master bedroom.

The door clicked shut behind them, leaving you and Sarah in heavy silence. You sat down at the kitchen island, pulling Rafe’s blanket around your shoulders, the lingering warmth proving to be a poor substitute for him.

“Ward’s going to send him away, isn’t he?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Sarah sighed as she plated some food and slid it in front of you. “Probably,” she admitted, sitting across from you with her own plate. “I’m sorry about all of this.”

You frowned. “Why are you apologizing?” you asked, absentmindedly poking at a roasted potato.

Sarah hesitated before speaking. “I should’ve known you two were in love. How could I have been so blind? If I hadn’t pushed JJ on you, maybe none of this would’ve happened. This is all my fault.”

You shook your head and reached across the table to take her hands. “Sarah, this isn’t your fault. It’s not your job to play matchmaker. Maybe Rafe and I just ignored what was right in front of us for too long.”

She gave you a small, sheepish smile. “So… you don’t really like JJ?”

You couldn’t help but laugh softly. “JJ’s fine. Kind of a dick though. There’s no connection there. Not like what I feel for Rafe.”

Sarah grinned, her eyes brightening a little. “Maybe one day we’ll be sisters,” she teased.

You chuckled. “Let’s get through tonight first.”

The bedroom door creaked open, and both of you turned as Ward made his way into the kitchen. His expression was firm but calm. “I’m taking him to treatment first thing in the morning,” he announced.

Your heart clenched, but you nodded, understanding. This was what Rafe needed, even if it hurt to let him go.

Ward glanced between you and Sarah before his features softened slightly. “Sarah, why don’t you and I spend the night at Tanneyhill? Give Rafe and Y/N some time alone.”

Sarah smiled and hugged you tightly before gathering her things. “Thank you, Mr. C,” you said, your voice filled with gratitude.

He gave you a small nod. “Call if you need anything,” he said before ushering Sarah out the door.

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for what would likely be one of the hardest nights of your life. With the house quiet again, you made your way down the hall to Rafe’s bedroom.

You knocked softly before opening the door. Rafe was already in bed, lying on his back and staring at the ceiling, but when he saw you, a small smile tugged at his lips. He patted the space beside him, inviting you to lay with him.

Climbing into bed, you turned to face him, resting your head on his chest. “How are you feeling?” you asked gently.

“Better. A lot better,” he said, wrapping an arm around you. His smile faltered, replaced by a frown. “But my dad’s not going to let me off easy.”

“It’s okay, Rafey,” you reassured him, lacing your fingers with his. “Take the time you need to get better. I’ll be here when you get back.”

He turned his head to look at you, his blue eyes searching yours for any trace of doubt. “You promise?”

You smiled softly and pressed a kiss to his knuckles. “Cross my heart.”

A genuine smile broke across his face, something that was rare to find in Rafe Cameron. Holding him close, you let the rhythm of his breathing lull you into a sense of calm. Whatever came next, you’d face it together.

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mahojelly92 · 3 days ago

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The Camcorder

Hellooo! This is my longest fic to date! I wanted to write a special Schlatt fic that incorporated my love for Christmas. Hope y'all enjoy!

Also, I'm thinking about opening requests soon, anon included. Please lmk if you are interested! I'm not guaranteeing that they'll be this long lol, but I can do my very best for you!

Word Count: 3k

18+ for explicit content. MDNI!!!

Fem reader and rpf. A little fluff here and there but mostly smut ;)

Tagging @burdenandacrop + @jschladderall 💕

Christmas day winded down as your family dispersed throughout the house, playing with their gifts and trying on new clothes. The afternoon sun creeped through the kitchen windows as you sat at the table with Schlatt, your hand resting on his knee as he fumbled with the new camcorder you got him. He's grinning from ear to ear as he turns it on, pressing the buttons and flipping the screen in his hands. The santa hat on his head bobs and sways as he plays with his new present. His red Christmas sweater hugs his body, the hem stopping just below the waistline of his blue jeans.

He excitedly rambles on about the camcorder’s features as he tests it out in his hands. He's so cute when he gets like this, all happy and curious, just like a little boy.

“Thanks for this, babe! You're the best!” He exclaims. You smile and peck his cheek, admiring his curly brown locks peeking out from under his santa hat.

“Of course. I know you've wanted this for a while.” You say proudly, beaming at your giddy boyfriend.

His hair was getting a little long, but he insisted on just trimming his face for the holidays this year. Yesterday you pouted and stuck out your bottom lip before leaving for your parent's house.

He stood in the doorway of the bathroom, razor in hand, glaring down at you. “C'mon, toots.” He ran his other hand through his thick strands, showing off his hair length. “Don't be acting like that. You love it long. Besides,” he pointed to his face dramatically, “your parents don't wanna open the door to find a caveman with their daughter, do they?”

You snort laugh as he goes back to delicately shaving his chops, a stupid grin plastered on his face. “Okay, okay. I guess you're right.” You walk into the bathroom and wrap your arms around his neck, giving him a smooch. A few stray hairs stick to your lips. You frantically blow out puffs of air, crinkling your nose. Jay smiles and chuckles, muttering, “Just like Jambo.” His eyes gleam down at you lovingly in the bathroom light.

You and Jay have been together for five years now. How fast they've flown by with him. He's been the best thing that's ever happened to you. Schlatt’s made your life brighter, fuller, more fun and colorful. You were working a dead-end job when you met, tired and miserable from life's shortcomings. He helped you regain that spark he always knew you had. Eventually he brought up the idea to start streaming with him. You spent a lot of time together streaming and gaming, learning more about him and getting closer. And before you knew it, he was confessing to you at your favorite pizza place.

The amount of love and support he shows you, in his own stupid ways, makes you thankful for him every day. It can be stressful at times, with all the fame he's gotten from his YouTube channel and all. But, you'd take that any day over the life you had before he came along.

“You think Jambo will like this?” You ask, holding up the stuffed mouse.

Jay nods in approval, smirking and taking the toy from you.

“Yeah, definitely. That little shit will probably hide it in my sock drawer, though. We better be careful.”

He inspects the toy some before going back to his camcorder, staring at the screen intensely while adjusting the settings. He hits play and brings it up to his face, squinting and pointing it at you. “Say hi, doll!”

“Hey! Merry Christmas!!” You smile and wave, bringing the mouse next to your face and swinging it from side to side.

“What was your favorite present from today? And you better not say the Sephora gift card ‘cuz I get you that every year.”

“No, no. Probably that cozy blanket your mom got me. I know I'm gonna use that a lot.” You chuckle, setting the mouse in your lap as you look into the lens.

All of a sudden, Jay lowers the recorder, eyes widening as he mutters, “Oh, shit. There's one more present I forgot to give you.” Before you have time to react, he stands up and takes your hand, pulling you up with him. He makes his way to the stairs, squeezing your palm tightly and looking back at you with a mischievous smirk.

“It’s in your room. I'm glad I didn't put it under the tree last night. That's would've been a show.” He chuckles and lowers his head as you pass your mom and dad in the living room. You give them a smile and Jay glances at them as you make your way upstairs into your bedroom. When you get inside, you don't notice him locking the door behind you.

“Alright, toots, get ready for this one.” He sets down the camcorder on your nightstand and dramatically rubs his hands together, leaning down and searching under the bed. He pulls out a small white box wrapped neatly in red ribbon.

“Awww! Baby! That's so sweet!” Your face lights up as you take the box, feeling the smooth silky texture in your hands. “You did a great job with the bow.”

“Well,” he says in a low voice, “it's ‘cuz this one's extra special.” He places his big hands around your waist, squeezing at your sides as you start to untie it. You steal glances up at him, noticing his bottom lip tucked under his teeth as you wonder what it is. Suddenly you understand, your face flushing instantly as you open it up and see a pink vibrator. You gasp, feeling your whole body tingle with warmth as you look up at Jay. His face is red now, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he grins down at you.

There it is. That million dollar smile that just makes your heart melt. “Merry Christmas, baby. I love you.”

You can't help but giggle, reaching up and tugging on the puff of his Santa hat. Your hand traces his jaw, feeling the roughness of his newly-shaved chops. “I love you too. How'd you know I wanted this, big guy?” You tease, your voice trembling. God, it's been five years and he still makes you this nervous.

“Oh, it wasn't that hard, sweetheart. Have you seen your search history lately?” He smirks confidently, leaning his head down and searching your face for any apprehension. “You like it?”

You nod sheepishly and purse your lips together, painfully aware of the heat rising in your belly. “I do. I really do.” Grinning, you take the vibrator in one hand and throw the box on the floor with the other. Your arms snake around him as you press the smooth silicone against the back of his neck, staring into those big brown eyes.

“Good. ‘Cuz we're gonna have some fun with this.” Jay chuckles, but he furrows his eyebrows, seemingly lost in thought. “But your family…” he starts, “they might hear us, doll.” He presses his nose into the crook of your neck and breaths in your scent. He moans softly, sending shivers down your spine. You're suddenly aware of your family laughing downstairs.

“Well,” you sway him gently in your arms. “We'll just have to be quiet, then. You think we can do that, love?”

Jay sighs and nods, planting a kiss on your skin and continuing to run his hands along your waist, raising the hem of your Christmas sweater up. “Mm-hmm. Though I can't make any promises. I want you, sweetheart. Right now.”

A whimper escapes your throat as you press your body into his. You feel Jay's cock hardening through his jeans, making your knees weak. You want him too. You want him so bad.

You smile up at him tenderly and sit on the edge of the bed, pulling on his sweater, begging him to join you. “Come kiss me, Santa.” you bite your lip hard as he crawls on top of you. He sets the vibrator down and throws his Santa hat on the bed. He takes in your small frame laying under him, all eager and ready. He can't help but smile at your bashfulness.

Your hands find Jay's chest, feeling the soft cotton between your fingers. He kisses you gently, moving his head with yours. He takes his time tasting you, drinking you in. Savoring every moment.

You caress his torso, moving your hands under his sweater and feeling his stomach. His abs contract at the coolness of your touch. He lets out a shuttering moan as you explore his chest, running your fingers over his hard nipples.

“Fuck. You're killing me.” His breath quickens as you tug at his shirt. You can't help but think about all the things he could do with that vibrator, making your pussy soaked with desire. Your heart races as he takes his sweater off, throwing it to the ground. You lean up and kiss him passionately, digging your nails into his bare back and lifting your knees up to touch his hips. He grunts and brings his waist down to meet yours, grinding against you slowly. You wrap your legs around him, fanning your hot breath against his neck.

“I need you, Jay.” You moan into his ear, trying your best to stay quiet. His hips continue their sensual rhythm, making you wetter by the second. He sits up and takes your sweater off, lifting your back up and unclipping your bra in one smooth motion, tossing it onto the floor.

Jay explores your chest, kneading your soft breasts in his hands. He sits up and digs his hips into yours while firmly massaging you, his back curling as he thrusts his body. His dick aches against his jeans as you moan and throw your arms above your head on the bed. You push yourself forward with your legs, begging to feel more of him, to feel all of him.

“I've been thinking about this all day, babe. I'm gonna fuck the shit out of you with that pretty little toy of yours. How's that sound?”

You nod and squeeze your eyes shut, praying your family won't hear the slew of moans coming from you.

Suddenly you feel a hand gently grasp your throat, making your back arch.

“I said, how's that sound, beautiful? Answer me or I might just have to make you scream.” Jay growls in your ear, “and we wouldn't want that, now would we?” One hand squeezes your breast as the other tightens its grip on your throat.

You nod, croaking out, “perfect, my love.” He smiles triumphantly and pulls back his hand.

“Good girl.” You gasp and breathe for air as he runs his hands down your chest and to your leggings, pulling at the waistband.

“This okay?” he leans down and nips at the supple skin on your tummy.

You whimper and nod, lifting your hips as he pulls down your leggings, underwear and all.

“God, so fucking perfect.” Jay exclaims, admiring your pussy for what seems like an eternity. He finally gives in and lowers his fingers in between your folds, gently massaging them and getting absolutely soaked in your heat. He presses his two middle fingers up into your core while his thumb rubs circles around your clit. You buck your hips instinctively, pleasure shooting up into your brain with every touch. You whimper and moan, bringing your hands down to grip his hair. You shove your face in his soft curls to drown out your whimpers. God, this felt so good. You didn't want it to stop.

He looks up from your pussy and stares into your eyes, smirking and laughing softly. “Enjoying this, toots?” You smile and nod, furrowing your eyebrows with pleasure and biting your lip. He knows you can't think straight when he plays with you like this. It's all just too damn good.

A symphony of moans escape your lips as he continues to pleasure you, making you squirm under his grasp. Soon enough you're close and whimper, silently screaming his name as your jaw goes slack and dizziness takes over. Waves of electricity course through your legs. Your orgasm is just on the horizon, begging to be released.

Jay pulls back abruptly, removing his wet hands from your core and sucking on them. You slump back down on the bed and grunt disapprovingly, your edge lost as he satisfies himself. He laughs, smirking down at you.

“Mmm. You taste so good.” His eyes glimmer with mischief. Oh, he knows exactly what he's doing, and you hate it. You grunt and adjust your gaze to his free hand reaching for the vibe. He turns it on effortlessly and places it on your abdomen. You squeal and grab his forearms, scraping your nails against his skin. He laughs and throws his head back, obviously enjoying this.

“You okay there, gorgeous? Did I startle you?” He smirks with the corner of his mouth and inches the toy down your belly.

You whine and nod, pouting. “You can't just do that to me, Jay. I was so close!” He chuckles again and watches as your hands move from his arms to his zipper in protest. He catches them quickly and clicks his tongue.

“Not yet. Gotta make use of this first, doll.” He pushes the toy harder against you as it rumbles just above your opening, making you rustle your legs on the bed sheets. Your toes curl and tighten. God, this was torture.

“Fuck babe, please.” You beg, clenching your fists as he holds your wrists in his hands. The vibe relentlessly taps your clit, making you see stars. Jay observes your reaction and holds it in that sweet spot, knowing how much you love his teasing.

“That's it, sweetheart. Take it for me.” He bites his lip as you move feverishly against the toy, your hips spazzing uncontrollably as you begin to reach your climax. Jay takes your wrists and places them above your head, his other hand holding the toy in place on your pussy. He marvels at your body, your noises, your movements. And he loves you all the more for it.

When you're close, Jay unzips himself, taking his hard length and rubbing it against your folds. Before you can scream, he presses his hand on your mouth and sticks a few fingers in. You suck and whine mercilessly, the pressure building from head to toe as you find sweet release.

The dual sensations of the vibe and Jay's dick intensify your orgasm. You bite down hard on Jay's fingers, desperately moaning as your pussy releases all over his cock. He moans with you, relishing in your high as you come undone. He kisses your face with fervor, muffling your moans and pressing into you again gently. He takes the toy off of you and throws it somewhere on the bed. With careful hands, his arms wrap around your waist, lifting you up to rest against his chest. He guides your head to his neck, then pulls your legs around his waist as he settles you in his lap. You feel his dick soften as you lean into him and hug his wide shoulders.

You're still light headed and buzzed from your orgasm, soaking up every moment from your high.

You love this right here, the way he kisses your temple and rubs your back gently as you come to. It's all so perfect. Once you gain your surroundings, you lift your head and chuckle, your eyelids heavy as you stare at him.

“That was so amazing, Jay. I love you so much.”

He smirks and picks up the Santa hat, placing it on your head.

“I love you too. So much, toots. You have no fucking idea.”

You smile and rest your chin on his shoulder, closing your eyes briefly to hug him. When you open them, you catch a red dot blinking on your nightstand.

On your …. Wait. Oh Shit.

“Jay…” you tap his back rapidly and sit up straight, mouth agape in disbelief. He turns his head to see what you're looking at.

“Oh my god.” His face turns pale as you both realize the camcorder is still recording.

You and Jay stare at each other as you process this, utterly shocked. A moment passes and you both completely burst into laughter. There was nothing else you could do, really.

“Jesus fucking Christ!” Jay curses. Tears spring to your eyes as you grip his arm and flail around on the bed, unable to contain your laughter.

He reaches over and stops the recording, flipping the screen and grinning.

“Welp…” he starts before letting out another chuckle.

“Jay, we have to delete that! What if my parents find it?” You sputter, holding your cheeks as the embarrassment begins to set in.

“Nah, babe, we gotta keep it. It's too fucking good to throw away!” He blushes and winks at you, grinning from ear to ear. You smack his arm, taking the camcorder and rewinding the video. Sure enough, it captured everything.

Fuck.

Your mind races on what to do when suddenly Jay remembers he put an SD card in the damn thing before setting it up.

He takes it out of the slot and checks the camcorder for any remaining footage.

The video is nowhere to be found.

Thank fucking god.

“Merry Christmas babe! You're my filthy little pornstar, aren't you?” Jay exclaims proudly, pinching your red cheeks. He shakes the SD card triumphantly next to his face, showing it off to you as he wiggles his eyebrows.

You can't help but giggle and shove his face playfully, rolling your eyes. “Yeah, Merry Christmas, you big perv!"

#christmas smut #schlatt x reader #jschlatt fanfiction #jschlatt imagine #jschlatt x reader #jschlatt smut #jschlatt fanfic #schlatt smut #schlatt x you #fem!reader #rpf #schlatt

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velvetvexations · 3 days ago

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"Women do traditionally feminine stuff because they are afraid of the men in their lives." Hilarious, because for me growing up all of the worst misogyny I faced was at the hands of other women, usually family and friends, and whenever I caved into the pressure to do feminine things I didn't want to it was specifically because I was seeking the approval of other women. None of the men in my life have ever forced femininity on me the way the cis women have. The people who made fun of me for dressing "badly" and not shaving and spread rumors I was secretly a boy were all girls. I kept trying to get into makeup, not because I wanted boys to think I was cute(all the guys who've shown interest in me have actually liked me just fine the way I am), but because I wanted the women around me to see me as one of them and I never felt like I was.

Even when women aren't pressuring me to do girly things I still feel the pressure because I'm the only woman I know who doesn't and it makes me feel like a freak. I don't care what the men around me think, a guy getting weird about my not shaving or wearing makeup would be instantly disqualified from my dating pool without a second thought, being raised a feminist very quickly inoculated me against giving a shit what men think, but the women? My whole life I have been trying so hard to be one of them and it's still hard work to ignore the annoying internalized patriarchal cisheteronormative bullshit in my head making me think I need to be more like them and less like me. And I genuinely don't know if there will ever come a day when I can hang out in a group of women and not feel like an imposter just waiting to be discovered and killed.

And I know that my experiences aren't universal any more than the person who originally said that's are, but like. It's just wild to me that trans people especially will chalk all of the pressure to conform to gender roles up to shitty men and completely ignore how heavily the patriarchy incentivizes women to not only violently police each other's femininity but also destroy ourselves seeking the approval of the very women who are violently policing our femininity.

EXACTLY.

I love cis women who our allies with all my heart and soul, but we need to stop being desperate for their approval. The cis women who DO care about us would be the first to admit they as a category need to do a lot better, so why do we pussyfoot around them being just as horrible to us as cis men can be?

With trans women it feels like we're just trying to link arms under the exact same oppressive patriarchy because it feels like that's what being a woman is, haha yeah, men hate us, I mean they hate us in different ways and you hate us too but what matters above all else is that we're the exact same thing right? Oh, sorry, like seventy percent of you don't believe that and are violently disgusted by the thought of coming anywhere near me? But I also fear men!

And trans men...

"Women are soooo scared of me, yeah you better cover your drink around trans men too, I mean not that I would do anything personally, but I could, because I'm a man, and that means I could oppress and hurt you, theoretically!"

Listen, bro, most cis women aren't scared of you, they're laughing at you, and frankly so am I, not because it's impossible for a trans man to be a person who's intimidating, but because you're so needy for validation that you've developed a patriarchy fetish you can't turn off.

None of this is to say we should ignore the crimes of cis men or that cis women aren't also another marginalized class, and again, I love cis women who're trans allies, they're amazing, wonderful people and I would never want to leave them behind or seem ungrateful.

#discourse

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ryleektv · 1 day ago

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Can you write something for Lorenzo Berkshire and have it be where he love it when you wear pink? Like it’s his favorite color on you! Like one day when y’all are in his or your room and y’all are making out and then he sees you wearing a pink bra and then he checks to see if it’s a set and it is! So then it just leads to smut! If you don’t want to write this I’d understand.

AHHHHH omg the fact that i got this the SAME day i dressed up in all pink to go watch wicked is INSANE (wicked is absolutely amazing btw) like full glinda coded eyeshadow and pink eyeliner and everything. also i am sick (AGAIN, ive quite literally been sick constantly for the past 3 months bc my immune system might as well not exist)

anyways i hope this is good enough pooks

Favorite Color

(on his favorite girl)

bf!lorenzo berkshire x f!reader

WARNINGS: smut, unprotected p in v, fingering, ummm biting?, whipped Lorenzo, not proofread, lowkey not Toxic!Lorenzo??? SUMMARY: Lorenzo's favorite color was famously red. But on you? Pink all the way.

WC: 1.4k

"Hey, princess- okay then." Lorenzo stopped in the doorway, his hands up as he dodged the shoe you threw in his direction. "Why're you so pissed off, hm?"

You groaned out incoherent swears at him before flopping over onto your back, leaving you bed sheets warm where you had been. "What do you want?"

"To spend time with my beautiful sweet girlfriend and find out who pissed in her tea?" He questioned as he took a careful step forward. "What can I do, honey?"

"I don't know." You mumbled with a heavy sigh. "Don't hate me, but I don't think I wanna do date night out tonight."

Lorenzo took another few steps before sitting down at the edge of the bed, his thumb delicately brushing your cheek.

"I'd never hate you. You sure you don't want to go out? I know you love getting all dressed up to show off."

You watched him carefully as his fingers traced over your t-shirt. You'd gotten half way ready, your hair and makeup done perfectly, before you realized that not only was your dress in need to be washed, but it was pouring out, and your picnic date was a complete waste.

Lorenzo, of course, was quick to call and ask if you wanted to just go get dinner at a restaurant instead, to which you agreed. But, none of your other clothes seemed good enough, and to make matters even worse, you found out last minute that you flunked on an important Potion's exam.

"I don't even have anything to wear," You complained quietly, resting your head on his thigh and tugging the blankets back up so you'd stay warm.

He looked over at the piles of clothes thrown everywhere, but like a smart man, didn't say anything.

"Can we just stay in tonight?"

"Of course,"

"That is not realistic, I mean, who the hell stabs someone like that? And- and blood doesn't just spurt our like that unless you hit an artery." Lorenzo tutted, still tracing circles on your shoulder with the tip of his index finger. "That's just not how it works."

You looked up at him with furrowed brows, your head rested on his chest as you watched the horror movie on the screen with your boyfriend. "Why the hell do you suddenly know so much about the logics of stabbing? Should I be concerned, Enzo?"

"No, I'm just saying. There's science behind this stuff, and if the were really that interested in spending what I assume to be millions on making this movie, you'd think they would at least put a little research into it."

"You're psychotic."

"It turns you on, though." He looked down at you as he wiggled his eyebrows jokingly.

You rolled your eyes with a smile and turned back to the television and watched as the killer proceeded to drag the protagonists dead body towards the woods.

"Deny it, maybe?"

You burst out laughing and looked up at Enzo who was watching you with a mixture of concern and amusement. "Oh, baby, I'm not denying shit."

Lorenzo's brown eyes stared down at you with a sparkle you could recognize from a mile away, his lips brushing up into a smirk.

"Enzo," You whispered, fully intending to spur him on.

His lips immediately crashed to yours, his hands tugging you closer as yours went to his hair.

You let out a soft sigh, eliciting a quiet groan from Lorenzo as he seemed to try to pull you impossibly closer to him. You could feel him already touching all over you, exploring every inch of your body as if it was his first time near a woman.

Still continuing your quickly escalating make-out session, he maneuvered the two of you so he was propped up over your body, his teeth nipping at you bottom lip before his tongue met yours in a familiar dance.

His hands came back to your hair, stroking over it as you pulled at him, both of you already breathing heavily into each other's mouths, gasping in each other's air as it got hotter.

And because Lorenzo would rather die than do it himself, you gently pushed him up so the two of you could breathe properly for a moment, his wild eyes staring down into yours as he gasped for breath, his lips swollen and wet as he grinned.

"Go lock the door," You murmured, four words that drove him mad, quickly scrambling off of you and practically running to the door as he fumbled with the buttons of his shirt.

If only he'd put as much effort into his school work as he did locking the door when you'd ask.

You sat up slightly, pulling the oversized t-shirt over your head to reveal the pink lace bra you'd planned to wear for your restaurant date.

Lorenzo shuddered out a breath as his eyes dropped to the bra, lips parted slightly as his eyes softened. "Fucking hell,"

His gaze hovered over your breasts before looking up at you with a questioning whisper, "Is it?"

"Why don't you come see for yourself?" You grabbed his belt loop with your middle finger, pulling him over to you before rejoining your lips with his as he climbed back over you, smiling into the kiss as you lifted your hips to help as he slowly pulled down your shorts.

You watched as his eyes darkened at the sight of your matching pink panties, Enzo's fingers rubbing slow circles on your clit over the fabric as you let out a soft sigh of relief.

"I don't think I tell you enough how beautiful you are." He mumbled against your lips as he slowly pushed the fabric of your panties to the side and easily pushed two fingers into you.

You let out a gasping moan, pulling on his hair as he curled his fingers hard inside of you, picking up the pace as flashes of heat grew all over your body in pulses.

"Enzo- shit- fuck me, please just-" You cut off with a whimper. "Just fuck me already." You practically pleaded as your eyes welled up with tears at the pleasure of his fingers curling perfectly inside you, his thumb starting up rough circles on your clit.

Lorenzo must have been like a dog in heat tonight, because he was clearly too desperate to make you beg, instead just undoing his belt and pulling off his pants and boxers faster than you'd ever seen him before.

His tip pressed against your entrance as he rested his forehead against yours, letting out a groan as he slipped in, your back arching at the perfect fit.

"Oh, fuck, Enzo," You breathed, arms wrapping over your shoulders as he started slowly thrusting in and out of you.

He buried his face into the crook of your neck, gently biting at your flesh as he sped up. "You feel so good, princess."

Your head tipped back as you felt his fingers speeding up as they circled your clit again, making the knot in your stomach form far faster than usual.

You pressed your hips back against his, meeting it time with his thrusts and pushing him deeper inside of you as you listened to his moans pressed into your skin, your own mouth agape as you whined at the sharp tug of your skin between his teeth.

"Oh, Gods, Enzo- Enzo, I'm so fucking close." You moaned into his hair, nails digging into his tensed back as you closed your eyes, legs shaking slightly.

"C'mon, I've got you." He pulled away from your neck, kissing the corner of your mouth. "I am too."

With one more thrust you tipped over the edge, vision going blank as you gave way to the waves of please, heat coursing through your body as if your blood was replaced with lava, chest heaving as tears slipped past your waterline, rolling down your cheeks before Lorenzo gently kissed them away.

You wrapped your legs tighter around Lorenzo as he was about to pull out, interrupting his panicked glance, "I'll get a vial." You breathed, with less than a second difference before he was finishing inside of you, the both of you moaning at the feeling.

Lorenzo flopped down on top of you, wrapping his arms around your waist as his face buried in your chest. "I love you,"

You brushed back his hair with the tips of your fingers, pressing a kiss to his forehead. "I love you, too, Enzo."

i kinda hate this too but thats okay bc i wrote it was 3am and thats excuse enough

requests are open as always and i promise i am in fact still working on a slytherin boys christmas im just severely behind

#lorenzo berkshire #slytherin boys #slytherin boys x reader #enzo berkshire #lorenzo berkshire imagine #lorenzo berkshire smut

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pintrestgrl · 3 days ago

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I have so many thoughts about Barry, it's honestly sickening

Barry treating you like air the whole day in front of any customer just to come up to you at night wrapping his arm around you "is my baby sad, hmm?" only to then whisper in your ear as he grabs a fistful of hair "stop crying like a little bitch and get down on your knees with a smile"

I dont even know anymore barry has fried my brain

this is sooooo precious n barry coded.

anyways i love barry and his limp hairy dick that’s all

PRECIOUS ND’ BARRY.

you knew to be quiet. just like you were taught; how you were trained. quiet as a mouse, all the time. barry stayed home today, something ‘bout the law being on his ass. he told his customers to come to him, instead.

you sat in your room for a bit, painting your toes. but you got bored, wanted attention. so you quietly opened the door, seeing barry on the frayed couch. counting money.

you sat next to him, facing him. you sat on your legs, propping your hands on his thigh. looking at him. he didn’t even bother to look up at you, though. too busy ‘worried ‘bout more important shit.’ you frowned.

you attempted to nuzzle up into his neck, but he pushed you away by your throat. “hi.” you spoke, sheepishly. he looked up at your pupils, for the first time today.

he looked you up and down, almost judgmental. he scoffed. “what you need, kid. spit it out.” you sighed, rolling your eyes. “nothin’— wanted to talk to you.” he laughed meanly, lowly. “go back in your room. you ain’t needa be out here.”

you stared down, disappointingly. but you would listen. you knew you would. he knew too. you did, always. wouldn’t dare utter a complaint to him. you got up, making your way back to your room. you cried for a little bit, fat tears rolling down your cheeks. almost begging for an ounce of remorse. attention.

however, you soon gave up and went to sleep. you had nothing better to do anyway. you slept for a bit, till it was at least dark. that was, till you felt a cold hand snake up to your tummy. you flinched, waking up.

he chuckled lowly, whispering in your ear. “you was cryin’ like a baby, huh? my precious was upset— like a little baby.” you frowned, embarrassingly nudging your head back into the pillows.

tears filled your eyes again at his mean words, before you almost shrieked at him pulling your head up by your hair. he harshly pulled your scalp to rest under his propped up arm.

he was leaning over you, almost like he was a predator. taking his prey. taking what he, thought he deserved. “stop fuckin’ cryin’ like you still a little girl— always fuckin’ cryin. sick of that shit, precious.”

you made eye contact with him, your chest rising and falling. “you gonna act like you fuckin’ want this— got it?” he said, not waiting for a reply before pulling your dead weight body to sit up. he pulled out his growing hard dick, before shoving it past your lips.

he threaded your hair into his hands, guiding your movements. “fuck— just take dad’s dick— okay? be grateful. be grateful for what i give you.” you whined around his length, feeling him hit the back of your throat.

he continued his movements, his dick soon twitching between your pink lips. “so fuckin’ dumb. seriously— don’t even know why i keep you here precious.” he spoke, with a groan. he soon came, promptly pulling out of your mouth.

he never did that.

he came on your face, almost to embarrass you. which worked. you had his sticky cum stuck in your lashes, a bit in your hair, and resting on your plump lips. he took a good look at your face; smiling. “lookin’ pretty, baby.” he spoke.

he grabbed your chubby cheeks, pulling them apart and forcing you into a toothy smile. “looks like you enjoyed that shit just fine— huh? knew you liked it.”

and maybe his words were right, but that didn’t mean you wouldn’t avoid him for hours after it.

#precious 🦢#barry smut #barry obx #barry coded #barry outer banks #foryopage #pintrestgrl #foryou #obx au #obx #this felt longer in my head #is this cute

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kawoala · 23 hours ago

Text

DRIVEN BY ADRENALINE suna rintarou. chapter 002 ; clueless.

২ 𓂅 ࣪ ೨ ; 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 (2,097)

২ 𓂅 ࣪ ೨ ; 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 (once again; MEEYA KNOWS NOTHING ABOUT CARS, alcohol consumption, profanity, anxious! reader, atsumu + osamu + aran + kita appearance, cops breaking up the race, mention of hinata + kenma, the most words i have written on this account, education major! reader, flirty! suna, party)

You have lost your mind. You’re sure of it. What nice girl from Miyagi attends an illegal street race on their first day being in a new town?

The girls around you look straight out of a strip club. And you’re a feminist, so that’s something you would never say lightly. You feel… awkward, to put it simply. Your arms are wrapped around yourself, attempting to cover your bare body, as you follow Runa to wherever the hell she’s headed.

People stare at you as you walk by, you can feel their gazes burning into your skin. You are out of place. Everyone knows that. You keep your eyes to the ground, following Runa’s shoes.

Eventually, she stops. You look up and three things catch your eye. One; four cars, equally decked out with what you can only assume are illegal modifications. Two; There are four very shady looking guys, beers in each of their hands. And three; Runa is hugging each and every one of them.

You stand a few feet away from her, awkward. You avoid eye contact with them, but, just like when you were walking over here, you can feel their eyes on you.

“And this is Y/n.” You look up just as Runa gestures towards you with her hand. She’s smiling widely, so you return it in a smaller version. “She’s my new roommate, so don’t be mean or crude or whatever, okay? Thank you. Y/n, this is Atsumu, Osamu, Aran, and Kita. They’re friends of my cousins, but I guess I like them a little bit, too.”

They all greet you in the respective order. You nod meekly and smile. “It’s, um, nice to meet all of you. I, uh,” You clear your throat, “I like your cars.”

The blonde one— who you think is Atsumu— glances back at the car he’s leaning against and a cocky smirk makes its way on his face. “Mazda RX-7,” he provides. “Twin turbo, 13-B.”

Your mind blanks. Anything that you’ve ever learned about cars— not much— is wiped instantly. You press your lips together in a smile and nod.

“You don’t know shit about cars, huh?” He laughs out, taking a swig of his beer.

You can feel your face heat up and you look at Runa. She gives you a sympathetic look, then turns to Atsumu and narrows her eyes. “What did I just say? Don’t be a dickhead, blondie.” She huffs and crosses her arms. “Where’s Rin? I want to introduce him to Y/n.”

Aran, you think, nods towards you. “He’s racing that ginger kid for two.” You realize he’s gesturing behind you, so you turn and finally notice the two cars rolling up to a makeshift starting line. “Kozume put the money down.”

Runa hums and takes a few steps towards the crowd that’s beginning to form. She grabs your hand and starts dragging you forward. “Come on, Y/n. You have got to see this.”

You let her guide you through the crowd, apologies rolling off your tongue in mumbles as you bump into people. You break through and you’re inches away a black car. You think it’s an Eclipse, but, then again, what the hell do you know, right?

There’s a woman standing in front of the cars, directly in between them. In one of her hands, a beer, in the other, a red fabric. Whether it’s a bandana or her bra, you’re not sure.

She brings the hand holding the fabric up, pauses to take a drink of her beer, then glances at both the cars, and brings her hand back down. The black car takes off first, the other trailing a bit behind. The whoosh of air that they make forces you backwards a bit and Runa’s steadies you with a hand on your back. She giggles and, when you look at her, her pupils are blown wide.

After what feels forever of intense anxiety, there’s a voice through a megaphone. “As expected, Suna Rintarou has won the race and, in turn, four thousand dollars!” There’s a sound like they’re about to say something, but then they stop. “Cops! Cops!” Everybody freezes. “Y’all better get the fuck outta here before y’all end up in a jail cell!”

A freezing cold shiver runs down your spine. The hair on the back of your neck stands up. Your feet feel like cinder blocks. Runa tugs on your arm and you can’t move. Day one of being in Tokyo and your ass is going to end up in a jail cell.

“Let’s go! Come on!” Even as she shouts directly into your ear, you can barely hear her over the panicked voices and tires screeching against the pavement.

You stumble over your own feet as you finally move. The second you sit down in Runa’s car, she’s pulling out and falling in line with the other cars trying to escape. You finally hear the sirens and you start to sweat. Day one in Tokyo and you’re going to be arrested. Can they charge you for just attending a street race? Maybe they’ll cut you a deal since it’s your first offence.

You zone out as Runa drives. This time, there is no music playing. Runa no longer sings along to it. Only the hum of the engine and the sound of other cars around you. You don’t even notice that you’ve pulled into a driveway until Runa lightly touches your shoulder. When you flinch and turn to her, she’s frowning.

“I’m sorry that your first race was… traumatic.” She winces slightly. “But, to, um, help process that trauma, we can get really drunk.” She smiles, hopeful. “Courtesy of Rin, of course.”

You swallow hard, but nod and follow her out of the car. You’re still in the clothes Runa loaned you and you still feel out of place. You keep your head down as you pass people. You hear their murmurs. You don’t belong here, either. You’re not sure you belong anywhere.

You walk into the house and the warmth that envelops you is welcoming and terrifying. There’s a crowd here, too. Less than at the underpass, but too many people for a house of this size.

Runa shoves a red solo cup into your hands, giving you an encouraging smile. “You can stay by me the whole time, alright? I know you don’t know anyone here, but they’re good people. The guys you met at the underpass? They’re good people. Rin is good people.”

You nod and take a sip of your drink. It tastes bad, but you can already feel it soothing the shaking of your hands. You follow her into the living and spot the guys from before. This time, though, there’s a new addition.

Lidded eyes, eyebrow piercing, tattoos snaking down his neck and arm. He isn’t your usual type— nerdy and shy, like you— but you’d be stupid to say he isn’t one of the hottest people you’ve ever seen.

“Rin!” Runa exclaims, shuffling over to the man. She hugs him, then punches his arm. “You totally abandoned us! Also, good job winning, but that kid had no chance against you. I thought you were against easy wins.”

He huffs out a laugh. “Yeah, nice to see you too, Runie.” His eyes dart to you, then down your body and back up to your eyes. “Who’s your tag along?”

“Y/n,” you say quietly, holding his gaze. You don’t know what came over you, but you’re so surprised that your eyes widen a fraction. You clear your throat. “Uh, my name is Y/n. You’re fast. I mean, your car is fast.” You tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, face heating up once again. “It’s impressive.”

He hums, taking a sip out of his cup. He keeps eye contact over the rim of the cup. “Thanks.”

To your right, you see someone tap Runa’s shoulder and start a conversation. You’re left alone again. You don’t belong here, even Runa knows that. You look around, silently judging the people in the house.

“Hey.” You look back at Rin. “Come sit.” He gestures to the now empty spot next to him and, hesitantly, you take a seat. You cross your legs and take a deep breath.

“You grow up around here?” He asks. His free arm is slung over the back of the couch and you’re painfully aware of it.

“Uh, no. I’m from Miyagi,” you explain, avoiding eye contact. “I go to U-Tokyo, though. Runa’s my new roommate. Did you? Um, grow up around here, I mean.”

He shakes his head. “Nah. I’m from Hyogo. Y’know, the Ghetto of Japan.” He laughs, and, surprisingly, so do you. “What are you majoring in?”

You pull your bottom lip into your mouth. You’re surrounded by rugged street racers and you’re about to tell him you’re majoring in education. “Education,” you mumble. “I, um, want to be an elementary teacher.”

“No shit?” Once again, he laughs. Great, you think. He’s laughing at you. He knows you don’t belong here, you know, Runa knows— everyone knows. “My mom was an elementary teacher. She taught fifth grade, I think. What grade do you wanna teach?”

Oh. Oh. He’s interested. You sit up a little bit straighter and finally meet his eyes. “Third, maybe. Or fifth. I’m not really sure yet.” You smile a little bit now. He wants to talk to you. “I love working with kids, though, that’s for certain. I want them to still be in the phase of thinking school is fun, but I still want them to actually be able to learn, you know?”

“Ah, gotcha.” He nods. “What do you want to teach?”

“English, definitely,” you say immediately. You clear your throat and look away. “I mean, I was always good at English. I loved my high school English teacher, she really, um, made the class fun.”

“I was horrible at English,” he snickers out. He takes another drink and you peek over, watching his Adam's apple bob up and down. “My teacher hated me and the twins. We were complete assholes all year long.”

“The twins?” Your mind thinks back to Atsumu and Osamu, and you make an ‘o’ shape with your mouth. “Oh, the twins. Have you been friends with them for a long time? Aran and, um, Kita, too?”

He nods. “Yeah. We were on the volleyball team together in middle school.” He pauses then shakes his head. “We were all kind of nerds. And then Atsumu’s dad skipped town and left his car and…” He trails off, shrugging.

“So that’s how you got into racing?” You tilt your head curiously, taking another drink. You’ve barely even drank half of it. When he nods, so do you. “That’s cool.”

“Yeah, I guess.” He shrugs again. You watch his eyes flicker down to your lips, then back up to your eyes. “Your boyfriend okay with you being at a party like this?”

You nearly choke on your own spit. “Boyfriend?” You repeat, eyes wide. “Um, I don’t have a boyfriend. What, uh, what makes you think that?”

“Oh.” There’s the tiniest but of a smirk as he says it. “I would have expected a pretty girl like you to have a boyfriend.”

You’re going to pass out. Your head is spinning. From the alcohol? You doubt it. You swallow hard. “Well, um, I, uh, don’t. I just moved here, like I said, so I haven’t met many people yet. Just Runa and, well, her friends.”

“Do you like Tokyo so far?”

“It’s alright.” You shrug. “I went to my first illegal street race. There was a possibility of me getting arrested. Way less boring than Miyagi.” Now, you’re smiling.

He smiles back, chuckling. “That’s one way to put it.”

You’re interrupted by Runa telling you that she’s leaving and, in turn, so are you. She is your ride for the night, after all. You watch her say goodbye to all of them, then do the same but more awkwardly.

“Bye,” you mutter to Rin. He smirks and waves a hand. When you get back in Runa’s car, you find yourself leaning your forehead against the window, watching your breath fog up the window. “I had fun tonight,” you say quietly.

She looks over at you and you can tell she’s smiling with the way she says, “really? Oh, I’m so glad. You can come to the next one, too, if you want. I think the boys really liked you.”

You smile again. You think you really liked them too.

২ 𓂅 ࣪ ೨ ; 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

@sahrii , @cherrysurf , @heartmaddie , @jpegarchives , @massacremars

@vertejay , @tiramizuloz , @gumims , @mybelovedvi , @chaotic-neutral-ig

@usbrous , @iheartamora , @iluv-ace , @xavlyzn , @velvetreds

@mysticstrawberryballoon , @h0n3y-l3m0n05 , @aethersluvrr

#kawoala #driven by adrenaline #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!!#haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu!! suna x reader #haikyuu suna x reader #suna rintarou x reader #haikyuu suna rintarou #haikyuu!! suna #rintarou suna #haikyuu suna #suna x reader #suna rintarou #street racer au #street racing #street racer suna rintarou

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vanillarosekiss · 3 days ago

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Hi lovie! May i request something? Can you write angst to comfort with simon or john? Love me some ex to lover or just like another chance romance where the boys are grovelling teehee

Of course I can, angel!♡ I hope you like this, I'm so sorry that it's late. I really wanted to make it more angsty at the beginning and sweet at the end so enjoy.

What Remains ₊˚⊹♡

Warnings: angsty, simon being a bit of a prick tbh, fluff at the end.

The dreaded knock came late—sharp and deliberate, breaking the silence of your small apartment. You weren’t expecting anyone at this time, but the minute you opened the door and saw him standing there, everything froze.

Simon.

He looked the same, but so different. The mask was gone, but his darkening aura stayed the same. He didn’t say anything; he stared at you like he wasn’t sure you’d let him speak.

“What do you want?” you said, voice harsher than you expected.

“I came to talk,” he muttered, his voice low, almost hesitant, “To apologise.”

You let out a harsh laugh and crossed your arms.

“Talk? Now? After you walked out of my life without a word? Months, Simon. Months. And now you want to talk?”

“I know,” he said quickly, his tone defensive, as if bracing for impact.

“I know I fucked up.”

“Fucked up?” You stepped back, gesturing wildly, “No, Simon. You didn’t just ‘fuck up.’ You destroyed me. Do you even get that?”

He winced, his lips pressing into a hard line. “I left to keep you safe. I didn’t have a choice.”

“Oh, don’t give me that bullshit,” you snapped. “You always have a choice. You just didn’t want to deal with me, so you made the easiest one. Don’t pretend you did it for me.”

His head snapped up at that, and for the first time, you saw something crack in him.

“You think it was easy? Leaving you? That it didn’t tear me apart every time i thought about it?”

“Sure looked easy from where I was standing,” you fired back. You knew it wasn’t like that, but you had lost it with him now.

“I was trying to protect you,” he said, voice harder now, colder. It was like he went back to who he was in the field, merciless and cruel.

“Do you have any idea the kind of shit that follows me? The kind of danger I drag around? I left because I didn’t want you caught in the crossfire. You know I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if anything happened to you.”

“Protect me?” You let out a bitter laugh. “That’s rich, Simon. Did you ever stop to think about how it felt on my end? Not knowing if you were dead, alive, or just done with me? You didn’t protect me. You abandoned me.”

That word hit him like a slap. His jaw clenched, and something in his expression shifted, turning darker. “You think I wanted to do that? That it didn’t fucking kill me to walk away? I was trying to do the right thing.”

“Yeah, well, you failed,” you shot back. “Congratulations. All you did was prove I meant nothing to you.”

He let out a sharp, bitter laugh. “You think you meant nothing? Christ, I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I thought about you every fucking day. Do you know how many times I wanted to pick up the phone? To come back? But I couldn’t.”

“Why? Why couldn’t you?” you demanded, your voice breaking. You didn’t want to get emotional with him but you couldn’t help it.

“What stopped you? What could possibly be worse than what you did to me?”

Simon’s voice dropped, “Because I was scared, alright? Scared I’d lose you for good. Scared you’d get hurt because of me.”

You stared at him, the weight of his words hitting you like a tidal wave. For a small moment, neither of you said anything, just stood there in the wreckage of everything unsaid.

“You broke me, Simon. You left me with nothing. And now you just show up, expecting me to forgive you?”

“I don’t expect your forgiveness,” he said, his tone softer now, the fight draining out of him. “I just… I couldn’t stay away anymore. I had to try. Even if you want to slam the door in my face, I’ll take it, but I needed you to know I’m sorry. For all of it.”

You felt your resolve cracking, the anger giving way to something else—something just as painful.

“You don’t get to do this to me,” you whispered. “You don’t get to come back like this and try to undo everything I’ve been through.”

“I know,” he said gently. “But I can’t let you go without a fight. Just because I left doesn’t mean I don’t love you anymore.”

Your arms hung limp at your sides, the weight of his words crushing you. You couldn’t tell if you were angry at him or just upset.

“I know I’ve been a prick, baby, trust me I know. And I hate myself for ever doing this to you. I wasn’t thinking properly. Fuck, I just- ”. He sighed and rubbed his eyes.

He looked… lost? Like he didn’t know how to fix this, and it tugged at something deep inside you, even through the anger.

“Simon,” you said quietly, your voice softer now.

His hand dropped, and he looked at you, the raw emotion in his eyes catching you off guard. “I’ll spend the rest of my life making this up to you if you let me,” he whispered. “I just want you back. Please.”

The sincerity in his voice broke you, and you couldn’t even get a moment to second-guess yourself.

“One chance, Simon. That’s all you’re getting.”

Guys i fear this is one of the best things i’ve written (my favourite). And it’s actually proof-read because i could be asked to get the grammar correct!! So proud. Thank you anon for this lovely, lovely request `౨ৎ~

Tag list: @soapisgod @slut-lmao @sebastianstans-slut @ilikeoldmen @g1rlfa1lure0 @queenoflaflames @tmartin0918 @kkloubee @goldie-221 @patricksoulmate @writingandsins @mxnee777 @caro-line19 @decaffeinateddelusionbread @poohkie90 @senoritaleeda @xoxoxoaspen @i-ship-stony-and-superfamily @simonrileysdarling @angelica456

Please lmk if you’d like to be removed or added to the tag list, I won’t take any offence!

#simon riley #⋆˙⟡ { 🦢 }#tf 141 #babylove #cod men #*๑♡՞ { 🌙 }#coquette #ghost cod #cod mw2 #simon ghost x female reader #simon riley x female reader #simon riley x f!reader #simon ghost riley x f!reader #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost x female reader

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butchersboobs · 2 days ago

Text

Twist (Part Three)

A Billy Butcher POV fanfic

NSFW under the cut - MDNI

Part One | Part Two

_________

I’ve been up all night. Pacin' the flat. Swearin' at the telly. Drinkin'.

But nuffink I do stops me keep 'earin you tellin' Ollie I ain't never comin' back - it's on repeat in me 'ead, over 'n over again til I wanna punch me fist through the fuckin' wall.

The look on 'is little face… Nah, I can’t let that stand. You don’t get to pull that kinda stunt 'n get away wiv it.

So the next day, I'm back knockin' at yer door, shoulders square, ready for anuvver barney.

I expect ya t'tell me t'fuck off, slam the door in me face, maybe even call the ol' bill on me. But ya don’t. You open the door quick, lookin' like you’ve been waittin' for me t'get 'ere. “Come in” ya say, like nuffink's 'appened.

For a second, I just stand there - blinkin' like a twat. “You what?”

“Come in, Billy” you repeat, calm as ya like.

It throws me completely - but I'll be fucked if I'm gonna let you know that. I just shove me way past ya, an' 'ead towards yer livin' room.

You forget - I fuckin' know you. I don’t trust ya one bit - yer up to summink.

The place is quiet - too quiet. No Ollie running about, no squeals o'laughter. “Where’s the boy?” I ask, me voice sharp.

“He’s at preschool,” you say, closin' the door.

Me jaw tightens. I feel like I’ve been set up. “Right. So what’s this, then? Some kinda ambush?”

You shake yer 'ead, looking… sad. Guilty, maybe. Good. You fuckin' should be, after the shit you pulled yesterday. “Billy, I just… I wanted to talk.”

I let out a bitter laugh. “Talk? Oh, now ya wanna fuckin' talk. After breakin’ that poor lad's 'eart?”

“I know,” ya say, and there’s this tremble in yer voice. You're fillin' up. And for a split second, I wanna comfort ya - never could stand it, seein' ya cry. But I soon fuck that train o'fort off. Fuck that.

“I know, Billy. And I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. It was cruel, and I feel terrible about it.”

“So ya fuckin’ should,” I snap, but the fight’s gone out o'me a bit.

You take a deep breff, steadyin' yerself. “God, he was so upset. He cried himself to sleep last night, thinking he'd never see you again. I can’t do it to him, Billy. I… I want him to see you. Regularly.”

Well that stops me in me tracks. “What?”

“You can see him, as often as you like. We just need to figure out some ground rules,” you say, foldin' yer bloody arms again - but it ain't in anger this time - more like yer tryna 'old yerself togevver. “For Ollie’s sake. He needs stability, Billy.”

Me anger flares up again, hot 'n sharp. “Ground rules? You takin' the fuckin' piss? You fink you get to call the shots after what you've done?”

You flinch, but ya don’t back down. “I’m trying to do what’s best for him, Billy. Can we just - can we not fight about this? Please?”

I look daggers at ya, every muscle in me body tense. Because I know yer right. As much as it boils me piss - you're right. I sigh, draggin' me 'and through me beard. “Fine. Ground rules. Whatever. Just say what you gotta say.”

And then you go straight f'me fuckin' jugular.

“I need you to promise not to tell him you’re his dad…”

The fuckin' balls on you. Fuckin'ell. I'm goona blow...

“You can fuck right off wi'that shite - are you seriously tellin’ me I’ve gotta keep me gob shut 'n pretend I’m just some random fuckin' bloke, while my son - my fuckin' son - walks 'round not knowing the troof? You’re havin’ a fuckin' laugh!"

“For fucksake Billy - let me finish” you shout back, and there's tears fallin' now. “I’m not saying you can never tell him you're his dad. I mean… just… don't tell him yet. Let him get to know you first. Let him feel comfortable. Please.”

I’m so angry I can 'ardly see straight. I need ta fuck off out of 'ere, sharpish - cos if I don't? I'll fuckin' frottle ya.

But outta nowhere, I fink of Ollie. 'Is little grin, the way he ran t'me like I was his 'ole world. I can't walk out on 'im. E's only little, I don't wanna confuse the lad.

“Fine,” I say through gritted teef. “But don’t fink I’m fuckin' 'appy about it.”

“Thank you,” you whisper, wiping at your eyes.

You try t'pull yerself togevva - you gotta pick 'im up in a minute, ya tell me. And outta nowhere, you ask if I wanna come wiv ya - maybe take 'im for a burger t'the park. Me gut's tellin' me ta tell ya t'fuck off. I wanna see 'im on my terms, not yours. But then Ollie pops back in me 'ead again, an' I imagine 'ow 'is face is gonna light up, and I find meself sayin' yes.

But the second I agree, the panic sets in. What the fuck am I doin'? I’ve never looked after a kid in me life, let alone taken one out on me own. What if 'e falls off the fuckin' climbin' frame and cracks 'is bloody 'ead open? What if I feed 'im the wrong fing? What if I fuck it all up?

But I shove it down, 'ard. I'll do it fo 'im. For my boy.

—-----

We walk just down the road to Ollie’s preschool, an' it’s awkward as fuck. Neaver of us says much, there's just the sound of me bloody great clod'oppers on the pavement and the occasional cough. I can feel ya lookin' at me out the corner of yer eye, probly worryin' I’m gonna fuck it up.

You stop in front'o the preschool gates, fiddlin' wiv yer coat zip, and for a second, I fink about sayin' summink. Summink… normal. But then the gate opens, and the noise o'kids pours out. Me froat tightens.

An' then I see 'im. My boy. 'Is little 'ead bobs up, scannin' the line o'parents, and when 'e clocks me, it’s like the sun’s just come out. “Billy!” 'e shouts, droppin' whatever e’s holdin' and leggin' it towards me.

I don’t fink I’ve ever been hit so 'ard in me life - not by a punch, not by a bottle, not by anyfin. 'E crashes inta me, little arms wrappin' 'round me legs, face liokin' up up at me wiv that massive grin of 'is. “You're back you're back! Yay yay yay”

I crouch down, me 'ands on 'is tiny shoulders, and for a second, I can’t say a bloody word. I swallow 'ard. “Course I am, mate,” I finally manage, me voice rough. “I told ya I'd be back, dinni, ay?”

You’re standin' there, watchin' us, and when I glance atcha, there’s tears in yer eyes. It pisses me off a bit, but I push it aside for Ollie’s sake.

“Hey, Ollie,” you say, your voice gentle. “How would you like to go for lunch with Billy? Maybe to the park after?”

Well - 'e lights up like a fuckin' Christmas tree, bouncin' on the balls of 'is feet. “Yes! Can we, Billy? Please?”

I'm desperately tryna keep me face neutral, but inside I’m shittin' meself. “Yeah, alright, little man. Let’s do it.”

You pass me 'is little backpack, and the strap feels weird in me 'and - too small, too light. I feel like I shouldn’t be trusted wiv summink so important. “Have fun,” ya say, but yer voice is quieter now, almost 'esitant.

I nod, not trustin' meself t'speak wivout crackin'. I take Ollie’s 'and, n' we 'ead down the street, 'is little legs tryna match me stride. He’s chattin' away, excited about lunch, excited about the park, excited about playin' dinosaurs and an 'undred uvver fings I don’t fully follow.

And me? I’m just tryna keep it togevva - pretend I know what the fuck I’m doing, while 'is tiny hand in mine makes me feel like I’m 'olding the most precious fing in 'ole fuckin' world.

‐—-----

We 'it the burger joint first. Thought I’d feel a bit more confident starting there. I mean, 'ow 'ard can it be t'sit down 'n eat? Turns out, a lot bloody 'arder than you’d fink.

Ollie’s bouncin' in 'is seat before we’ve even bloody ordered, natterin' away about dinosaurs again, which ones eat meat, which ones eat plants, 'n which ones'd like burgers if they was still kickin' about. I’m noddin' along, tryna keep up, but troof be told, I’m out me depth.

“Do you like T. Rexes, Billy?” 'e asks me for the tenf time, 'is little face all serious.

“Course I do,” I say, crackin' a grin. “Mean little bastards, ain’t they?”

'E giggles, and it’s a sound I don’t fink I’ve ever 'eard before. Pure joy. It does summink to me, 'earing 'im laugh like that.

When the food comes, I figure e’ll settle down, but nope. He’s dippin' chips in ketchup, then lickin' it off like it’s some kinda game. Gets it all over 'is face. The table. 'Is shirt. Jesus Christ.

“Oi, Ollie, mate,” I say, tryna sound firm but not too 'arsh. “The chips go in yer mowf, not everywhere else.”

'E grins up at me, cheeky as anyfin, an' shoves an 'andful into his gob. “Like this?” 'e mumbles 'round a gob full o'food.

I can’t 'elp it - I laugh. “Yeah, just like that. Perfict.”

By the time we’re done, the table looks like a bloody war zone. Ketchup smeared everywhere, squashed chips scattered, and I’m pretty sure e's got 'alf a milkshake down 'is front. But e’s grinnin' from ear to ear, and I feel like I’m doin' alright.

“Ready for the park, then?” I ask, standin' up and grabbin' some napkins to clean 'im up.

“Yeah!” 'e shouts, jumpin' out 'is seat like I’ve just told him we’re off to Disney World.

We walk over to the park, and e’s practically draggin' me there, 'is little hand clutchin' mine. It’s weird, 'oldin 'is 'and like this. Feels… right.

When we get there, e’s off like a shot up the climbin' frame, shoutin' down at me to watch 'im. “Look, Billy! I’m up really high!”

My 'eart’s in my froat the entire time. E’s bloody fearless, this kid, swingin' off bars, 'angin upside down like e’s got no sense o'danger. I’m standin' there, arms out, ready to catch 'im if 'e so much as wobbles.

“You alright up there, mate?” I call, tryna sound casual while me stomach’s doin' bloody backflips.

“Yeah!” he yells back, laughin'. “I’m the bestest at climbing!”

“Yeah, I can see that,” I mutter, more to meself than 'im.

Eventually, 'e makes his way to the slide, and that’s a bit less terrifyin'. E’s up and down it a dozen times, his laughter echoin' across the park. Uvver parents are 'ere, watching their nippers, chattin' amongst 'emselves. I feel a bit out o'place, like I don’t belong, to be honest. But Ollie’s avin' the time of 'is life - so I don’t let it bovver me.

When 'e finally comes runnin' back over, 'is cheeks are pink an' 'is 'air’s a sweaty mess. E looks up at me, beamin'. “That was fun! Can we come back tomorrow?”

I crouch down to 'im “We’ll see, mate. We'll see. You 'ad a good then time, yeah?”

“The best!” 'e says, frowin' 'is arms round me neck.

An' just like that, the world stops. It’s just me and 'im, an' I feel summink I ain’t felt in years - peace. Pure, unshakable peace.

“Alrigh', let’s get you 'ome,” I say, standin' up and rufflin' his hair. “Your mum’ll 'ave my 'ead if I keep you out too long.”

He laughs, grabbin' me 'and again as we walk back.

Maybe - just maybe - I can do this parentin' lark.

_________

Tags: @babyfri3dric3 @dumpy-little-nobody @bohemianblasphemy @smallsadjellyfish @frank3nfag @noonwardmoss @rebelled-angel @karlurbanism @jax-the-oregonian @chocolategiverzombie @scxrchedearf @bluemerakis @enchantedflameandflower @allirose18 @chiefcreatorcreation @bobabilbil

#billy butcher #billy butcher imagine #the boys #billy butcher fanfiction #billy butcher fic #billy butcher angst #billy butcher x you #billy butcher x reader #karl urban #daddy!butcher

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bladefuck · 2 days ago

Text

It had been weeks since the incident. The two best friends had gotten drunk after a Rebel Mission together. It was all a bit hazy to Dylan, honestly. They almost wrecked someones car, laughing and taking pictures, before just managing to bolt back home before anyone could spot them. Wouldn’t want a repeat van incident, after all.

Eric had asked to stay the night at his place, seeing as it was the weekend and they had nothing else planned. After much begging, Dylan’s mom had said yes to the two and given them control over the house as she left to stay with a friend.

This meant the two could get freely drunk, and drunk they got.

The most Dylan remembered was the two stumbling down to the basement after nearly half a bottle of vodka had vanished into their systems. The feeling of skin against skin, rough hands grasping him, the desire to take and take and the lust for more and more.

So it was no surprise that, in the morning, the two both pretended they remembered nothing from their drunken stupor. And though Dylan believed Eric and Eric believed him, the two both knew themselves that those memories and lingering feelings never would vanish.

That wasn’t the only problem, however. Dylan frequently found himself harshly woken up in the morning with swings of nausea and forced to hunch over as he retched his insides out.

The mood swings didn’t help, either. He thought he was going insane with the stress of knowing what he had done, his mood swinging faster than a drunken man on a nightclub floor.

He tried his best to contain them, but it didn’t help when he saw who he blamed for all this nearly everyday, Eric. He had slipped up once, and yelled at the other harshly. But once again he felt the swinging of the pendulum and a familiar wave of despair befall him at the sight of Erics widened eyes and his legs taking a few steps back. He tried apologizing, but nothing came out.

He eventually decided to get to the bottom of it, researching online whenever his mother wasn’t home. But the only answer he found seemed so rediculous he felt himself laughing until there were the formations of tears in the corners of his eyes.

Yet as he continued with these bouts of nausea, mood swings, even odd cravings here and there, he got more and more desperate.

So he tried clearing his thoughts and ignoring the dread gnawing at his heart and frontal lobe as he stood at a pharmacy section of a local store, package in hand as he walked away as quick as possible.

All this had led to him not having much time for Eric, and when factoring in his sudden session of yelling at the other boy one day as school ended, he had expected the other to be pissed with him. Though Eric normally seemed pissed about most things these days, it seemed.

So it came as a shock to Dylan when Eric asked to come over one saturday, weeks later. Though the two could pretend nothing happened, the anxiousness of being near the other remained constant.

As Dylan put the home phone down after giving him permission, he couldn’t help but smile despite the crushing sense of anxiety that fell over him.

Dylan couldn’t stop the pacing he found himself doing as he awaited his best friends arrival. Eventually, he forced himself to stop. He marched into the bathroom nearby, taking out the package and tearing it open.

“Better get this over with before he gets here,” Dylan said to himself. He made sure the door was fully locked despite the fact he was, as of now, the only person in the house, the rest of his family gone at some dumb restaurant outting.

…

The blonde haired man looked deeply into the mirror, as if daring it to stop looking back. When it stayed the exact same, he sighed and pushed back with the palms of his thin white hands.

“Shit, how will I ever tell him?,” he murmured to himself. He knew he could tell his best friend anything. … Right? Yet at the same time, the eternal fear of judgement and abandoment crept over him, its shadowy claws grabbing his body and feeling as if it would tear him to shreds.

“You okay in there, dude?”

Dylan jolted at the sound of the other males voice. He had been so caught up in his own little world he entirely forgot that he invited the other over just now.

“Yeah! Just, uh, give me a second!”

He yelled back. This seemed to be an acceptable answer, as Eric didn’t respond.

He slipped the item he had just finished using into his pocket. Dylan looked up, letting out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, and stepped out.

His shorter friend smiled at the sight of him. Dylan saw he already made himself at home in his room, but he supposed it made sense, what with the two being almost inseperable.

Dylan casually sat down at the edge of his bed, which Eric was sprawled out across.

The older man must’ve saw his expression, as his eyes narrowed.

“Something’s up. I can tell,” he put simply. Dylan smiled nervously, but he knew he couldn’t just talk his way out of it like he did with others.

He took a deep breath. He knew Eric better than anyone, he knew he could confess this… he just knew it. Like a pull in his gut that drove him to the man.

“Just- Just promise not to get mad,” he said tentatively, carefully watching the others expression for even a hint of malice in Erics face.

“Okay, fine, you fuckin’ anxious wreck. Promise.”

Dylan smiled at his sarcastic remark and smirk.

“So, you remember how we got drunk a few weeks ago and, uhm, well…”

Dylan trailed off. Those memories were still fresh in his mind like an iron press ingrating it onto his brain. Eric tensed. He expected the other to have forgotten all about that night, with how often he got drunk off his mind. He looked away from the younger man, but after a few moments looked back.

“… Yeah. Why?”

Short and simple, he told himself. Don’t freak Dylan out or anything, don’t scare him off after they’ve already come so far.

He paused when Dylan gulped and fumbled with something in his pocket.

“Whatcha got there, V?”

Eric sat up as he asked this, looking curiously. Dylan sighed. Standing up and on the side of the bed, he looked down at Eric.

In his hand lay a pregnancy test, its sleek white design unmistakable. On a small screen lay two lines, forming the shape of a cross like object.

“Do you want a boy, or a girl?”

Dylan asked meekly, grinning

#tccblr #tc community #tcc fandom #tcc tumblr #tcctwt #teeceecee #true cringe community #tcc columbine #dylan columbine #eric columbine #tcc dylan #dylan 1999 #eric 1999 #tcc eric #eric and dylan #columbine 1999

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kathlare · 24 hours ago

Text

distant glow

Lando Norris x Amelie Dayman

Summary: Amid a snowy retreat in the French Alps with friends, Lando finds himself distracted by thoughts of Amelie, who's attending the premiere of her latest film in Mexico.

Wordcount: 1.0 k

Warnings: just fluff

December 18th, 2024 - French Alpes, France

Lando adjusted his goggles as the icy wind whipped against his face, standing at the edge of the slope with Max, Pietra, Martin, and a couple of other friends. The trip to the Alps had been Max’s idea, a pre-Christmas getaway to decompress before the holidays. Normally, Lando loved the thrill of skiing—his competitive streak made him race down the slopes faster than anyone else. But today, his mind was somewhere far away, thousands of miles south, in Mexico.

Max, gliding effortlessly next to Pietra, was chatting animatedly with her, their laughter echoing through the crisp mountain air. Lando couldn’t help but notice how Max reached out to adjust Pietra’s scarf or how she leaned into him with ease, as if the whole world existed only for them.

It wasn’t that Lando was jealous, he was happy for his best mate, but watching them stirred an ache in his chest. He missed her.

He missed the way Amelie would tease him relentlessly for his shit Spanish, her fingers absentmindedly brushing his as they walked. He missed the softness in her voice when she called him "Lan" and the way her laugh made his chest tighten in the best possible way. Hell, he even missed the way she bossed him around when they were deciding where to eat.

And now, he couldn’t stop picturing her on that yellow carpet, dazzling in whatever gown she had picked for the Wicked premiere. He had seen her walk a dozen carpets before, but there was something different about this one. It wasn’t just a movie—it was her movie, her moment.

—Mate, you coming, or are you just gonna stand there looking moody?— Max called, breaking Lando out of his thoughts.

—I’ll meet you guys down there,— Lando replied, tugging his goggles off and waving them on. —I’m starving anyway.—

Max shot him a knowing look but didn’t push. Lando had been acting like this all week, and everyone in their little group knew why. They might not have said it outright, but the way they kept glancing at him every time someone mentioned Amelie was enough.

Back at the chalet, Lando collapsed onto the couch as Martin turned on the massive TV for their lunch break. A tray of steaming pasta and bread sat in front of them, but Lando barely touched it, his eyes glued to his phone.

—Are you watching that livestream?— Pietra asked, settling next to Max with a steaming mug of hot chocolate.

—Yeah,— Lando admitted, not even looking up. On the screen, Amelie stood outside the theater, beaming as she greeted fans and signed autographs. She was glowing in a floor-length, pale pink gown, her blonde hair styled in loose waves that reminded him of the day they’d spent at the beach back in August. The press cameras flashed relentlessly, capturing every inch of her. She looked like an actual goddess.

—Fucking hell,— Lando muttered, more to himself than anyone else. —She’s unreal.—

—She really is,— Max chimed in with a smirk. —Don’t tell me you’re getting all sappy again, mate.—

—Shut up,— Lando shot back, but there was no venom in his voice. —I can’t help it. Look at her!— He gestured at his phone like it explained everything.

—You’re so dramatic,— Pietra teased, laughing. —We get it, you’re in love.—

—Yeah, well,— Lando said, shrugging. —Wouldn’t you be if your girlfriend was Amelie fucking Dayman?— He tossed his phone onto the coffee table, slumping back against the cushions. —It’s just... I miss her, okay? We’ve been apart for, what, four days? And it feels like a goddamn eternity.—

Martin chuckled. —You two literally spent a month glued to each other. You’re worse than a clingy teenager.—

—Yeah, but still,— Lando argued, rubbing the back of his neck. —I hate being apart. And don’t even get me started on how busy she’s been. I barely saw her in the weeks leading up to this trip because of the press tour. It’s like we’re finally together, but there’s always something keeping us apart.—

—Yet you make it work,— Pietra said, her tone softer now.

—Yeah,— Lando admitted, a small smile tugging at his lips. —We do. Somehow, we always figure it out. She’s... she’s worth it, you know?—

Max leaned forward, smirking. —You’re so whipped, mate.—

—Yeah, I am,— Lando said, not even trying to deny it. —But she’s whipped for me too, so it’s fair.— He grinned, thinking about the way Amelie would melt whenever he called her "Ames" or kissed the top of her head when they cuddled.

—Seriously though,— he continued, his voice dropping to something more genuine, —we’ve come a long way since... you know, the first time we tried this.—

The room grew quieter. Everyone knew about their rocky history, the messy situationship that ended in heartbreak for both of them.

—But this time’s different,— Lando said, more to himself than anyone else. —We’ve grown up. We understand that we’ve got our own lives and schedules and friends. And yeah, it sucks sometimes... being apart like this, but I know we’re solid. She makes me feel like... like I’m enough, you know? Even when I’m halfway across the world.—

Pietra smiled at him, her expression warm. —That’s love, Lando.—

—Yeah,— he murmured, glancing back at the stream. Amelie was still on the yellow carpet, laughing at something Kit Connor had said. He couldn’t wait to tell her how breathtaking she looked, how proud he was of her.

And in just four days, he’d get to hold her again. December 22nd couldn’t come fast enough.

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scribbly-artist · 3 days ago

Text

Lesson Learned

Summary: You’ve known Silco and Vander for a long time, you all go way back. They also know you’re a little shit - on purpose. Trouble makes it way back to you.

Author’s Notes: Thank you to my mutual for sending in the request for this one!! I had actually made a text post talking about writing something like this in the past. It goes to show that if you egg me on with ideas, I’ll write something for it. :^) I actually had a lot of fun writing this one too! Figuring out Vander and Silco’s dynamic as well as the Reader was really fun to put together. I didn’t write this inherently romantic but I think you can think of this one swinging either way! I hope everyone enjoys this one!! <3

Words: ~2,100 | AO3 Link

A quiet night at The Last Drop was always your preferred place to hang out and unwind. It was a Tuesday and no one else was around, despite being not that late into the evening.

It was good when the bar was empty, because you could hang out with your two mates - and owner’s of the place, Vander and Silco.

Both men have looked out for you tremendously. You were all mining buddies from way back when. You may be small, but you are undoubtedly mighty. They were quite surprised to see someone of your stature work in that kind of field. They never underestimate your skills, but they always made sure you were safe in those awful conditions.

You've never had anyone to rely on your whole life - your family was long gone. These two were the closest you've had to family, and you were grateful for it.

Music played from the jukebox and bounced across the walls as you took a sip from your glass. Straight from the bottle with a bit of ice: exactly how you like it. Vander was behind the bar cleaning up from the busy day, and Silco was writing in a book a stool away from you.

“Man, things are a lot more quiet these days, huh,” you mused aloud, taking another swig of your drink, the ice clinking gently.

“It's better that way, don't you think?” Vander replied, swiftly cleaning a glass with a piece of cloth.

“Well, yeah. I suppose. Not much to do these days other than putting your head down and working, though,” your finger circled the rim of the glass, fidgeting. “It wasn't the best, but I had a lot of fun in the mines.”

“You did?” Silco piped up, scribbling something down in the notebook with his pen, not looking away from his work.

“Yeah - getting down and dirty was fun, until the debris-filled air got caught in your lungs,” reminiscing, you went through your memories. “I remember you two bickering over something real stupid, like an old married couple, and I had to be the voice of reason and break you two up.” You giggled as you spoke.

Vander shook his head with a laugh. “I remember always saving you two from rocks falling on your heads. Yourself, in particular, were never the careful type.”

“I just had fun smashing rocks up, y'know? So what if a couple rocks fell on me?” You replied with a wave of your hand.

Silco grabbed his glass, still writing in his book, taking a swig of his drink. “I remember you always bugging Vander and I on break - on purpose.” He gave you a bit of a side eye with a smirk.

You returned his look with a smirk of your own, a glint in your eyes. “I remembered one way I used to annoy you,” you scooted over on your seat, leaning over and poking Silco in his side. He wasn't expecting that, his grip on his pen slipping on the paper. “I used to always poke and prod you while you wrote up our daily report on our break. Just so the higher ups couldn't read your handwriting.” You gave him another ticklish poke, making your point clear.

Silco’s eyebrow twitched, messing up another word he was writing. He crossed it out. “I never had a way to stop you back then. You were always so persistent. And slippery...” Silco replied, not looking up from the notebook. Vander finished cleaning up the glasses, propping his elbows up on the bar, giving his full attention to both of you.

You gave him another poke with an added scribble, making Silco drop his pen onto the floor, turning to give you an unamused look. “I always brought the fun to our break, right?” You tilted your head with a smile.

“…but now, I might just have a way to stop you.” With a swift motion, Silco closed the notebook. “Vander, if you would.”

“Wha–” you didn't have a moment to get a word in as Vander made his way around the bar, grabbing you from behind. Vander lifted you slightly off of the ground, your feet just scraping the floor, encapsulating you in an almost bear hug. His hold was strong so you wouldn’t be able to wriggle yourself away, but he was gentle.

“Hey, hey hey hey, waitwait, what are you doing?” You asked, nervousness laced in your voice. Surely Silco and Vander wouldn't do anything awful to you, right?

“Every time you bugged me, and every time I tried to get you back, you swore up and down you weren't ticklish–”

“BECAUUUUSE I'm not, obviously,” you quickly interjected with a cautious laugh.

“And every time I tried, you never gave a reaction. But thanks to our kind friend here,” Silco motioned to Vander. “He let me in on a little secret.”

You gasped in surprise, craning your neck to look at Vander, your eyes wide. “You didn't.”

Vander has a mischievous look in his eye. “Oh, I did.”

You remembered when Vander found out you were ticklish…

Silco had gone home early, but Vander and yourself were getting some equipment cleaned up. You had come to him after a rough day at the mines. You had hurt your shoulder from hauling material around, and Vander offered to try to massage your shoulder to make it feel better.

You accepted his offer, and it was fine at first, under he squeezed in just the right way. You let out a squeak, Vander had thought he had hurt you at first and was worried. You denied that he hurt you, which relieved him, but he asked why that happened. You had to tentatively explain that it tickled.

Vander had replied with something similar to “You know, he’s going to use that against you if he finds out about this?” with a smirk on his face. You practically begged Vander to not tell Silco a word of this, and he told you he wouldn't tell a soul…

Silco let out a dark chuckle as he could almost see the cogs turning in your brain.

“Vander, you traitor!” You started to thrash about, but Vander held you tight. “You said you wouldn't tell him!” You weren’t really angry at either of them - you could definitely feel the sweat collecting on your palms, though.

“I figured I might as well. If you're reacting this awfully about it, then maybe it'd be a useful tactic to knock you down a few pegs whenever you're being a right little shit.” Vander let out a laugh at your demise. Your squirming was no match for his grip, you didn't even sway him in the slightest. Of course you couldn’t, his frame was a whole lot bigger than yours.

Silco took a step forward, the grin on his face all too evil. “It’s what you deserve for messing with the wrong person.” He was having way too much fun with this. Your heart skipped a beat with a bit of fear. Oh, shit!

“Noooo, no no, Silco, no, we can t-talk about this, right? We’re buddies?” Your smile was lopsided and wobbly, nervous giggles already teetering out from your throat. “Surely you can forgive me? It was all in good fun! Right??”

“You can’t worm your way out this time,” he inched his face closer, a sweat drop rolled down from your forehead. Your eyes darted to his hands as he flexed his fingers. “I’ll send the message across and make sure you think twice about trying to annoy me for your own amusement.”

Before you could sputter out anymore protests, Silco dug in.

He was terrifyingly gentle, was your first thought. His fingers skittered up and down your sides. You instinctively bit down on your lip hard to silence yourself. They both noticed this.

“Surely you know I won’t be satisfied until I get what I want?” Silco moved his gentle yet dexterous touch upwards, skittering into your unprotected underarms. He got a fair bit of extra thrashing from that, making him chuckle. Vander had to hold you a little tighter. “There’s no use holding it in, you understand?”

You shook your head back and forth, determined to hold your laughter at bay. You were not going to let them win this.

Silco tsked, shaking his head. “Your stubbornness will be your downfall.”

You felt another, bigger hand poking around - uh oh, Vander was joining in. His touch was a bit rougher, his fingers scribbling around your stomach. Vander joining in along with Silco is what caused the dam to shatter into pieces.

“WaitwaitWAIT— AHAHA!!” You finally let it all out, laughing your head off with a big, goofy smile on your face. Silco and Vander leaned their heads back away from your face a little - they weren’t expecting your laugh to be so shrill and loud, it hurt their ears.

“Awfully loud, this one,” Vander commented, your cheeks turning red. “Though, they squeaked last time; wonder if we can draw that noise outta ‘em?”

“NohohoHO! D-Don’t you DAREEE!” You threatened with a whine, though not serious about it at all.

“You were never intimidating to begin with, let alone in this state,” Silco observed, moving his hands to trail down to your stomach, trading places with Vander who started squeezing at your ribs. You let out a squeak, exactly what they wanted. “Especially like this.”

“HAHAHA— no, nohohoho!! It tickles!!” You couldn’t hold back anymore, the feeling overwhelmed every nerve in your body.

“That’s the point.” Silco couldn’t help laughing at your silliness. Tears were budding in the corners of your eyes.

“Think the lesson stuck?” Vander piped up, his scribbling slowing to a stop. He still kept a grip on you, although you had stopped fighting back to save what little energy you had left.

“Yes... I believe so.” Silco gave you a couple more tweaks and pokes to your sides and ribs, and finally let up. He moved his arms away from your body, crossing them over his chest instead with a grin on his face. Vander loosened his grip on you. You nearly tumbled to the floor but managed to stay up right, your head hanging down to the floor. Your body felt like lead.

You greedily sucked in air, your chest rising and falling. You raised your head, eyeing Silco. “Has… has anyone ever t-told you that you can be scary if y-you could set your mind to it?”

Silco stretched his hand out in a truce, and you grabbed on with your own. “While Vander has his size and his raw strength, I have my words. We’ve scared plenty off before.” Silco spoke with a laugh. Both men led you to sit down - Silco by the hand, Vander with a hand on your back - back on your stool at the bar.

Vander rounded the bar, refilling your forgotten and watered down drink with a new beverage and piece of ice. You grabbed your glass, raising it in thanks as you took a sip. Silco took his own seat back at the bar, drinking from his own glass.

“Didn’t overdo it, did we?” Vander questioned, reaching out to ruffle your hair. You giggled as you pushed his hand away.

“No, no, it was fine…” You could admit… you thought you liked that little exchange. You were quiet for a moment, lost in thought.

Until you felt a poke in your side from Silco. “What’s wrong? Can’t handle a taste of your own medicine?” He teases.

“It’s not that…” you took a deep breath, resting your hand over your face. You could feel the subtle heat coming off of your cheeks. “Actually… I think I liked it…”

Both men paused for a moment in silence at your words. Vander was the first to speak, with a smile and a teasing lilt in this voice. “Isn’t that something?” He couldn’t stop himself from laughing, making you groan in response.

“That’s positively adorable of you.” Silco smirked, placing a hand on your shoulder with a wide grin. Your face only got more red as you covered it with your hands.

“Ughhhh, s-shut up…” your voice was muffled from your hands. “It just made me feel safe… and happy…”

“Looks like we’ll have to put you in your place more often, don’t you agree?” Vander asked, looking over to Silco who nodded a little bit too enthusiastically for your liking.

“Ugh,” you pulled your hands away from your face, throwing your head back. “I’m never going to live this down, am I?”

Your face only grew more crimson during the night as you got relentlessly teased and prodded at by your two favourite people. You wouldn’t ever admit it again, but deep down, you enjoyed it.

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arthurhillmastermind · 3 days ago

Text

Anyone but him | Arthur Hill

“Same Building, same friends, zero patience for each other. For now.”

Kirstie stood in front of her mirror, adjusting her hair for the third time. She felt a mix of excitement and anxiety about attending Chris’s dinner party. After moving into the flat below him, she’d only heard stories about his friends— ArthurTV, and Bach. Chris had promised they were fun, but that didn’t ease her nerves. What if they didn’t like her? What if she didn’t like them?

With a final deep breath, Kirstie grabbed her jacket and made her way upstairs. She knocked on Chris’s door, and it swung open almost immediately, revealing a beaming Chris.

“You made it! I was beginning to think I’d have to come and drag you here myself!” he teased, pulling her into a quick hug.

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” Kirstie replied, rolling her eyes but smiling as she stepped inside.

The flat was warm and inviting, the scent of something delicious wafting from the kitchen. The living room was filled with laughter and casual chatter, and Kirstie felt her heart race as she spotted three guys lounging on the couch.

Chris led her over, gesturing grandly. “This is Kirstie! Although I feel like I didn't need to say this.”

Bach looked up, a cheeky grin on his face. “Yeah you didn't.! Chris won’t stop talking about you. Welcome to the shit show.”

ArthurTV smirked, raising his drink. “If he’s been hyping you up, you must be something special. I’m Arthur.”

Bach, sitting cross-legged with a warm smile, nodded in greeting. “Pleasure to meet you, Kirstie. Don’t mind Chris and ArthurTV; they’re just jealous I’m the best-looking one here.”

Kirstie chuckled, feeling her tension ease slightly. “Oh really? I'm pretty sure that changed when I came in, but I’ll have to make that judgement for myself,” she quipped back, earning a round of laughter.

“You’re going to fit right in,” Chris declared, clapping his hands together. “Let’s eat before everything gets cold.”

As they gathered around the dining table, Kirstie found herself seated between ArthurTV and Bach. Chris had gone all out, with a spread that looked as good as it smelled.

“So, Kirstie,” ArthurTV started, leaning slightly toward her. “What games are you streaming these days?”

Kirstie took a sip of her drink, feeling more at ease. “I just started streaming GTA V. It’s been a wild ride so far. Lots of chaos and swearing and laughing. I Play with Ginge sometimes and I play Fifa every so often too, ill play anything my stream ask me too to be honest, I did a sims challenge during a 24-hour stream, they asked me to make Chris and harry and let them get married, so I did.”

Chris annoyed “yeah and thanks to that I keep getting fan fiction written about it”

Kirstie impressed with herself “yup and thanks to that I bought my new pc”

Bach leaned in, a mischievous glint in his eye. “ I rate that, Are you a total wild card, or do you play it safe?”

“Depends on my mood,” Kirstie replied with a smirk. “But I’d say I enjoy a bit of reckless abandon now and then. I like leaving a game like sims or on while streaming when I take a stream break and grab a drink or answer a call.”

ArthurTV raised his glass again with a grin. “That’s what we like to hear! Welcome to the shit show. I can imagine that Ginge is an annoying twat sometimes, though.”

Kirstie laughed, raising her glass to clink with his. “Thank you! He’s one of my favourite people to stream with, though. I try to get him on a stream three or four times a month. We balance each other out, I think.”

Chris groaned, rolling his eyes. “Yeah, I know he’d like to ‘balance you out’ too.”

Kirstie shot him an unimpressed look. “Chris, actually shut the fuck up.”

The group burst into laughter, ArthurTV slapping Chris on the back as he tried to maintain his mock-wounded expression. Kirstie felt her nerves melting away, blending seamlessly into the banter.

As dinner was served, Kirstie found herself surrounded by playful jabs and hilarious stories. She exchanged quips with Bach and ArthurTV, who were both delighted to test her sense of humour. Chris chimed in with a few anecdotes about their friend group that had Kirstie nearly in tears from laughing.

At one point, Chris disappeared into the kitchen to check on dessert, leaving Kirstie and the guys to chat. She noticed Arthur’s name come up in conversation, and her heart raced a little.

“What’s Arthur Hill actually like?” Kirstie asked casually, trying to keep her tone light.

“He’s a bit of a mystery,” ArthurTV replied, a knowing look in his eyes. “Talented musician, but he can be a pain sometimes.”

“Yeah, like a lovable pain,” Bach added, rolling his eyes. “He has his moments.”

“He’s got this knack for thinking he’s cooler than everyone else,” ArthurTV added with a laugh. “But deep down, he’s a softie.”

Kirstie felt a strange flutter at the mention of Arthur. Despite their less-than-friendly encounters, she found herself curious about him.

Just then, Chris returned with a tray of desserts, interrupting her thoughts. “Alright, who’s ready for some sweet treats?”

The laughter and chatter resumed, and Kirstie felt grateful for the warmth of the evening. Maybe fitting in wouldn’t be as difficult as she had feared.

--------------------------------

Part 1 - here!

#arthur hill #arthur hill fics #anyonebuthimfic #athurhillmastermind #george clarkey #chrismd #chris dixon

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stellarsturniolos · 3 days ago

Text

INTRODUCING: nurse!reader ... paired with matt sturniolo. ( inspo credit: @mattsbows )

the bitter scent of antiseptic, hands that are always cracked and dry from washing them so often, always stressed from working too hard yet still feeling like you're not doing enough, back pain that never seems to fade, and the intense desire to stay in bed for an entire weekend.

it had been an exhausting, hectic, and just plain busy day in the emergency room at the largest hospital in los angeles. from severe cases like an elderly man who went into cardiac arrest, to a basic case of the common fucking cold, you'd seen it all. and you just wanted to go home. or, more specifically, to matt's home.

but you couldn't. because you had to work the goddamn 24 hour shift, and you were currently only on hour 12. you hadn't been able to stop for a snack or a piss or even a simple drink of water because you'd been running from room to room, checking vitals and administering medications and answering questions.

at two o'clock in the morning, when most of your patients were snoozing and the hustle in the ER had calmed down a bit, you decided to step away for a quick moment... just to catch your breath.

you walked outside and turned on your phone for the first time in hours. you grinned when you saw text message after text message from matt. just telling you about his day, telling you about the video he and his brothers filmed that afternoon, sending you a picture of a cute dog he met on his run, telling you he missed you.

it was all very, very sweet but it just made you long for home even more.

the latest message was sent only ten minutes ago, so before you could stop yourself, you were dialing his phone number. you had his number memorized, of course, even though you don't even have your own number memorized. which matt never failed to tease you about.

"hey, baby.." he greets you, his voice so soft and full of love. "how's work?"

"it's... work," you say with a gentle laugh before unloading on him like you do way too often. "i'm so tired, babe. like, i desperately need a coffee, but the closest coffee shop is closed because it's the middle of the fucking night and i'm too lazy to walk all the way down to the cafeteria." you exhale heavily. "i wanna come home. i miss you."

he chuckles softly. "i miss you more, pretty girl." you can almost hear his smile through the phone and it warms your heart so much. "hey, i hate to cut this call short, but i really have to take a shit."

you're glad he can't see your sad pout. "that's alright, baby. i should probably get back to work anyway. i love you. see you in, like, ten hours."

"i love you too, my baby. take care of yourself, okay? i'll see you soon." and then he hangs up. he must've really had to shit, you think to yourself.

you allow yourself a few more seconds to pout and miss him and feel sorry for yourself, but then you go back to work. you get water for a few patients and then decide to sit and do some paperwork whilst you can.

that's when one of your fellow nurses taps you on the shoulder and informs you that you have a surprise in the waiting area. you frown at her, confused, but she just winks and waves you away.

when you go out to the waiting room, your eyes widen. because there stands matt, with a large thermos of hot coffee and a few of your favorite chocolate protein bars.

you immediately get teary eyed when you see his beautiful, soft, kind smile. you step closer to him and sniffle, feeling overwhelmed with love and gratitude.

you wrap your arms around him, hugging him tighter than you've ever hugged anyone before.

"matt..." you murmur, your voice muffled against his neck. "you didn't have to come all the way out here just to bring me coffee, y'know?"

"i know, sweetheart," he says, pressing a lingering kiss to your temple. "but i wanted to."

"you're the best." you say as you pull back enough to look up into his eyes. "seriously, i didn't think guys like you even existed. you.. you're so good to me. and i really do appreciate everything you do for me."

"i know you do, baby." then his lips quirk up into a smirk and he leans in close again to whisper in your ear. "i can't wait for you to come home later.. so you can show me just how much you appreciate me."

you feel a shiver go down your spine. fuck.. now you want to go home even more.

@ stellarsturniolos.

#sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x you #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo au #matt sturniolo au #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo fanfic #* my writing.

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v0dkasrighthand · 2 days ago