#lets get drunk with fizzy

[rollinpinwheel]

He has acquired oil. The night is still young.

[woso-dreamzzz]

Celebrate

Hardersson x Child!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: Magda overdoes it

There are lots of things you like about parties.

The music. The endless food. The amount of fizzy drinks you can have.

Most of all, you like that you get to stay up past bedtime.

You sit in a little booth was a cup of sprite and a straw and blow more bubbles in your drink.

A lot of the Not-Wolfsburg girls are celebrating at the bar or on the dancefloor, where Guro is really having fun and people are giving Niamh a wide berth. Coach Emma is also dancing and you think she might be drunk.

You think Morsa is drunk too because she's halfway between giggly and weepy and she's stumbling around with some of the others.

Momma sits next to you, nursing her own drink as she opens another packet of goldfish crackers for you to munch on. You're feeling a little sleepy, forcing down your yawn because you know if Momma notices then she'll make you go home and you really don't want to go home right now.

Especially when Niamh is trying to dance but making it very clear that she can't do it properly.

You clamp down on your yawn and go to take another long drink of your sprite.

"Er...Pernille..." Millie says as she approaches. She looks a little awkward, rubbing the back of her neck with her hand. "Magda's..." She spares a look behind her. "Yeah, Magda..."

Momma sighs deeply. "She's pretty far gone, huh?"

"Yeah...She just got into the bathroom."

Momma stands up. "I'll look after her." She turns to you. "Stay here, okay? With Millie. She'll watch you."

You shrug. "Okay."

Millie slides into the booth next to you. "So," She says," What are you drinking?"

"Vodka."

"What?!"

You giggle, swinging your legs. "Don't be silly, Millie. I've got Sprite!"

She still looks a little sceptical and leans forward to sniff at your drink, pulling back when she's satisfied that it isn't actually alcohol.

You take a sip.

"Is Morsa being sick?" You ask.

"Er...no..."

You fix her with a look. "Don't lie," You say," Because Momma says when people drink too much, they throw up. Is that what Morsa's doing?"

"Yes."

You nod, finishing off your drink. "Can I get another sprite?"

Millie looks down at your empty glass and then back at the bar. "Stay here," She says," Don't wander off."

"Okay, Millie."

As soon as she's up by the bar, you slip out of the booth. You weave your way through the team, stumbling a little bit when someone bumps into you but you stay on your course to the toilets.

Morsa is hunched over one of them, throwing up her earlier meal as Momma rubs her back.

Morsa is crying as well, babbling about how much she loves Momma and the team and playing with her. She looks back to give Momma heart eyes but notices you by the doorway.

"I love you too, princesse," She cries," You're so small and I love you so much. You used to fit in my arms, do you remember? Come here, I can still hold you like that. I'll show you."

"Magda," Momma says in warning," Absolutely not. You're-"

Momma's interrupted by Morsa throwing up again and you wrinkle your nose in disgust.

"Go back out, please," Momma says to you," I'm looking after Morsa."

"I'm tired," You whine, stomping your foot," Can we go home?"

Momma looks at Morsa and nods. "Go back out to Millie please," She says," And tell her that we're going to go home."

"Okay!"

You're not actually tired but you do want to go home because you think if you stay here then Morsa will keep drinking and keep throwing up.

You find Millie easily, slipping into the booth again as she comes back with your sprite.

"Momma says we're leaving now," You tell her," Because Morsa is nearly done throwing up her dinner."

Millie winces. "Yeah, Magda might have overdone it today. Let me grab you a bowl for her."

Morsa hobbles out into the car, hunched over as you dutifully carry the bowl from Millie in your hands.

"In the front, Magda," Momma orders but Morsa refuses.

"Sit with our baby! She's gotten so big! Let me sit with our baby!"

"No, Magda," Momma says," In the front and if you don't throw up on the way home then you can give Princesse cuddles when we get home."

"Fine."

Morsa finally gets in the passenger seat.

(She doesn't get her cuddle at all because as soon as Momma turns on the car, she throws up everywhere).

[vivwritesfics]

Daddy Ricciardo

Just some Danny Ric marriage/parent headcannons. Fluffy AF

Have you ever met somebody so in love with their girlfriend that it consumes their entire being?

Well, if you're friends with Daniel Ricciardo, you certainly have

Daniel was utterly obsessed with Y/N when they were dating

He brought her along to every race and showed her off whenever he got the chance

Any Y/N fan pages were probably run by him

Daniel was obviously a man who couldn't wait to get married

Especially to Y/N

You know that bit from The Office when Jim shows off the ring he got the moment he and Pam start dating?

That would have been Danny if he got the chance on drive to survive

No, Daniel got the ring on their six month anniversary

He already knew she was the one

But six months felt like the perfect timing

He didn't propose right away

Things kept getting in the way

But then, there was the perfect storm

Y/N had just come to watch a race

She hadn't been to the last one and had hardly been on the phone to him

Danny thought something was wrong

When she came to the race, Daniel was overjoyed

But then, in the hotel room after the race, she'd gone all serious

"Danny, I've got something to tell you. But I need you to promise me one thing," she said, grabbing a hold of his hands

"Anything," he replied, utterly concerned

Y/N sucked in a deep breath, calming her nerves

"Don't freak out."

When she told him, Daniel didn't freak out

He took in the information silently

Why would he freak out?

This was going to be the best day of his life

Two little words, that was all Y/N had said to him

Two words with so much weight to them

When Y/N was done and looking ready to start crying, Daniel slipped from the bed and pulled the ring box out of his pocket

He got down onto one knee and opened it

"You've just made me the happiest man in the world. Want to make me slightly happier and marry me?"

Y/N found a dress, her dream dress

Three weeks before the wedding, that dress no longer fit

The joys of being pregnant

Sobbing, Y/N made her mother take her shopping for a new dress

Before the wedding, at the rehearsal, Daniel had said he wasn't going to get drunk

If his soon to be wife couldn't drink, then he wouldn't either

But Y/N had insisted

Her soon to be husband was cute when he was drunk

So, Daniel had a few

He had more as the reception went on

Max and Christian were there, drinking alongside him

By the end of the night, Y/N was sat at the table, hand on her bump, cheeks rosy as she laughed at Daniel

He had pulled Max in for a dance and the Dutchman couldn't say no

He literally couldn't say no, because drunk Daniel wasn't listening

The honeymoon was gorgeous, like a dream

They went to the Maldives, stayed in a luxury resort

Four months later, Y/N was going into labour

It was, quite frankly, terrifying

Fifteen hours later, Charlie Ricciardo was born

He was his fathers pride and joy

Where Daniel used to show off Y/N, he now showed off Charlie and Y/N

His camera roll was all pictures of Y/N and his son

As Charlie got older, they started taking him to the races

He had little headphones to wear as the cars went around the circuit

He'd wave (aka, Y/N would hold him on her hip and wave his hand for him when his daddy came into the pits)

Charlies first word was car

Daniel was driving at the time, during free practice

He was so pissed that he missed it

Daniel was the fun parent

He was the one who let Charlie stay up past his bed time and let him have chocolate and fizzy drinks

In moderation, of course

But then Charlie did something scary

"Mummy, I want a brother," he said

Y/N couldn't reply

She had to turn around and pour herself a glass of wine

So, he asked his father

Daniel was so happy to hear it

If Charlie wanted a sibling, he was going to get a sibling

So, Daniel brought it up with Y/N

"Danny, no," she said the moment he suggested it. "When I was pregnant with Charlie and you were travelling for work, I was struggling so much without you. I can't do that again"

Daniel tucked some hair behind her ear

"Don't worry, Angel. I can talk to Christian and get the last few months of your pregnancy off," he said. "Keep you and Charlie travelling with me until then"

That sounded amazing to Y/N

She loved her little family and it only seemed to be growing

She jumped onto her husband

"Get ready for the night of your life, honey badger"

[silhouetteonpaper]

Worth It

Summary: As you find yourself at yet another one of Tony’s parties, dread fills you at the idea of having to socialize. But what happens if you decide to cause some mischief and bend the rules a little? Natasha Romanoff x Reader WC: 1,928 Warnings: Underage drinking, gross men, getting drunk A/N: Sorry for the long pause in my usual uploads! I just got home from a trip and have lots of new stuff saved up ;)

Worth It

Another one of Tony’s world-famous parties waits for you just one floor up. Dreading each and every one of them, you pull yourself from lounging around to get ready for a night of torture. It’s not anything against Tony, you’re just not a fan of big crowds or small talk, especially when it’s with a bunch of snobby elites.

After dragging yourself to your closet, you eventually decide on an outfit. You pick something classy to match Tony’s elegant dress code, yet not too uncomfortable as you know it’ll be a long night. The echoing sound of music from upstairs already streams into your room, making you sigh as you finish getting ready.

Finally, it’s time to face the crowd. Riding the elevator up one floor, you feel your confidence grow underneath the outfit you picked for tonight. Most of the people Tony invites to these parties can’t get enough of the youngest addition to the Avengers, especially when they’re tipsy from whatever drink Tony’s concocting. You walk with stature onto the open floor, smiling as eyes turn to you.

In an attempt to dodge all the turned heads accompanied by uninvited conversation, you walk straight towards Natasha. She stands in the center of the room, greeting you with a grin while clutching her half-empty drink. “No time for small talk, huh?” she questions while leaning in for a hug. You smirk, shaking your head.

“Not with these people,” you respond, eyeing the large crowd that’s finally returned their attention to whatever captivated it before you walked in. You already feel claustrophobic in these circumstances, but choose to take a deep breath and face Natasha in hopes her warmth can calm any discomfort.

“You want a drink? Tony’s at the bar,” Natasha gestures to an inebriated Tony pouring shots. “He’s probably sober enough to make you a mock-tail…” she tilts her head in contemplation. Knowing you’re not of age to drink, Nat of course is on top of keeping you away from any adult beverage, especially at these chaotic parties. The last thing she wants is for the youngest Avenger to get into any trouble.

“I’ll go try my luck.” You joke, leaving the redhead’s side to approach the bar surrounded by strangers. Squeezing your way past the drunk herd, you lean against the counter facing a very not sober Tony.

“Ah, my favorite underage party goer. What can I get’ya?” He asks, downing yet another shot. You wince for him, his own lack of a reaction surprising you.

“Something Natasha wouldn’t approve of.” You respond, stealing a glance back at the unassuming Widow now chatting with Steve. What Natasha doesn’t know won’t hurt her, as long as you keep it on the down low. A little alcohol has ever affected you much, from the few times that the team has let you sip from their drinks or when you’ve snuck out to a friend’s party.

“I knew I liked you,” Tony voices as he pours up a cocktail. Fizzy soda fills the glass; red syrup flooding to the bottom through rising bubbles. The last touch is added, a shot of the same mysterious liquid Tony drank just a moment ago. “Here you go, cheers!” He exclaimed while pushing your glass across the counter.

You nod back in thanks, taking a sip. It’s not a mock-tail, that’s for sure. But on the outside, nothing about it screams ‘kid holding a cocktail’. Walking back over to Nat, Steve shoots you a smile.

“What’cha got there?” He eyes the drink. You quickly come up with a believable lie, not wanting Natasha to find out. It’s not that she cares if you break the law, it’s about protecting your innocence. You understand why she does it, having lost her own so young, but sometimes rebelling like this is healthy for a normal young adult.

“Shirley temple,” you tell him, taking a long sip to prove it’s in fact real. You easily keep a stone-face expression, unaffected by the drink's true nature. He nods, taking a swig of his own drink. The two adults resume their conversation, mentioning something about an extra special guest tonight.

“If I can get a word in with the director, I don’t think we’ll have any issue initiating Project Red and Gold.” Natasha tells Steve, leaving you to awkwardly stand there in silence. You have no clue what she’s referring to, but assume it’s higher level information you don’t need to be aware of.

Suddenly, an older man surrounded by a cohort of other rich snobs strides down the glass stairs, causing Nat to nearly jump. “He’s here! My mouth is dry, damn it-“ she grabs your drink, taking a long chug in preparation to talk with the powerful man. What takes her by surprise is the liquid that burns her throat as she swallows, causing her to shove the glass back in your hands with anger.

“Seriously, alcohol?” She looks back and forth between you and the director, hesitating in walking over to him. “We’ll talk about this later.” Leaving the scolding for another time, she finally jumps into action, pushing her way to the front of the crowd to talk with her target.

Steve raises his eyebrows at you, not in an angry way, but rather letting you know he’s impressed. “She’ll forget about it,” you tell him, stirring your drink awkwardly before taking a sip. He gives you a knowing look, causing you to re-think your words. “No she won’t…”

A few hours and a few drinks later, you find yourself sprawled across the red velvet couch. The party seems to be dying down, a majority of the crowd having left and only close friends and team members still continuing to mingle.

You’re definitely past tipsy territory now, the handful of drinks you indulged in throughout the night are finally getting to you. Maybe it was a bad decision, but after getting busted for one drink, you chose to not look back and have a fun night in case Nat decided to actually kill you.

Now too unbalanced to sit up straight, you lean against the side of the couch as an unfamiliar man with gray hair sits next to you. At first you don’t pay any attention to him, too lost in your own drunken state to care. But eventually you notice him eyeing you up and down, his gaze scanning your entirety.

“What?” You question him out of concern, hoping you didn’t spill something on yourself without realizing. The man laughs, leaning in toward you.

“I’m just admiring the view,” he states with a suggestive smirk. You raise an eyebrow at him, looking to the large glass window behind him.

“You’re facing the wrong way for that.” You explain, unaware of his actual intentions. You find it funny he doesn’t even realize where the window is, but in reality you’re the one getting confused. He laughs again, his hand creeping up to find your leg.

“How about we go find a better place to see it, then?” He asks, settling in closer. You tilt your head, brows raising as you finally realize his offer. In your current state, no red flags were waving; the confidence the alcohol gave you causing you to nod and stand. What more could you lose? But as you stumble towards the hallway alongside the strange man, someone abruptly stands in your way.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Natasha intervenes, grabbing your wrist and pulling you from the older man’s arm. You look back and forth between the two, shrugging as you’re already certain she knows the answer. “Get the hell out of here.” She tells him through gritted teeth.

You laugh as he walks toward the elevators with haste, clearly terrified of your red-headed friend. “You’re drunk, aren’t you?” Nat’s attention is now on you, quickly realizing just how many drinks you’ve had as you use her for balance. With an exasperated sigh, she guides you to a couch, putting you between Steve and Wanda. “I have to go walk the director to his car. Don’t let her do anything stupid.”

As she walks towards the straggling group of party-goers, you giggle. “Oh, she’s mad.” You voice while watching her head out with the director from earlier. Wanda and Steve exchange a knowing glance.

“I hope you’ve enjoyed your last day alive.” Steve teases, seeing just how much you messed this one up. He’s always been okay with you doing normal teenage things, but a part of him definitely sees eye to eye with Nat on this situation.

“Was it worth it?” Wanda asks. She picks up a glass of water from the coffee table and hands it to you. Slowly sipping at the icy cold liquid, you nod.

“I should do this more often.” You reply, a smile creeping up your lips. Regardless of Nat’s demeanor, this party has been your favorite one yet. The abundance of confidence made it easier to socialize and weave within the crowd, something you usually don’t find enjoyable.

“Maybe… we should stick to mock-tails,” Natasha joins in, suddenly emerging from the elevator. “C’mon, it’s bedtime.” She holds out her hand, motioning for you to get up from the couch. You pout, placing the water down to cross your arms.

“I’m not a kid, let me have my fun!” You remark in hopes you can have a little more time out with your friends. The night was far from over, and just because you’re inebriated doesn’t mean it has to end so soon.

Natasha holds her gaze though, her eyes piercing into you with a ‘don’t test me’ look. You know at this rate she’ll work you extra hard in training tomorrow, no matter how hungover you are. So, after considering what’s in store, you stand in a huff and brush past her to your room.

After changing into comfier clothes, you hear a soft knock on your door. “Are you decent?” you hear Natasha’s voice from the hall.

You laugh and crash onto your bed, not bothered enough to crawl under the covers. “Yes, Nat.” She opens the door after your confirmation, holding a glass of water in one hand and some pain medicine in the other.

Placing both down on your nightstand, she then gazes at your current state with a sigh. “C’mon, get under the blankets. You’re going to get cold in the middle of the night,” Nat grabs at your comforter, forcing you to scoot backwards as she pulls the blankets over you.

“Okay, mom.” You roll your eyes and flop back down onto the pillows, eyelids already feeling heavy. She sits on your bed for a moment, smirking as she watches you struggle to stay awake. “What? Are you going to scold me more?” You ask.

She chuckles, patting your arm softly. “I’ll save that for tomorrow, right before we train. Drink plenty of water, you’re going to need it,” she tells you, standing and turning out the small lamp on your bedside table. “Goodnight.”

“Night.” You reply, watching her walk to the door but falling asleep too quickly to even see her leave. You’re too tired to even worry about what’s in store for tomorrow, or how much trouble you're actually in. 

All you care about is that you have someone who actually cares about you, who lets you make these mistakes. Even if it means you have to do extra training, you’re glad you have someone to count on. Someone who understands what it’s like to want to be a normal, troublemaking teenager.

[ih34rt-lanceystrxlly]

Read Your Diary

table of contents/pairing: max verstappen x reader

summary: he needed to find a way to get inside of her, for ever and ever and ever.

warnings: obsessive behaviour, emotional manipulation, borderline stalking and an overall toxic dynamic with an oblivious Y/N, use of explicit language, fingering, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it, kids), p in v, breeding kink if you squint. I absolutely do not condone any form of emotional manipulation or toxic relationships. This is a work of fiction and most definitely not a reflection of this person's real actions or personality.

message from A☆: Hey !! So recently I've been reading a lot of dark fics so I wanted to try and write one of my own. This fic has the same structure as Chewing Cotton Wool, and this (Read Your Diary) is one of my fav Måneskin songs, and I put A LOT of effort into it. Btw, I didn't use the whole song ! I only used the lyrics that I felt resonated with the storyline I wanted. (I fully went in and edited the smut part I AM SORRYYY) I hope you enjoy...

P.S, try and spot the song references throughout the fic !!

Brought you some roses, you didn't take them So I shed a tear

He was just trying to be nice. That's what Y/N thought. She'd been working as Christian Horner's secretary for only a couple months now, and his star driver had quickly taken a liking to her. But who could blame him? She was young, a few years younger than him, and absolutely gorgeous. Max would send her a bouquet if her favorite flowers every single race weekend, and in the beginning she'd never take them. How did he know what her favorite flowers were? He had his ways...but she always refused them. Little did she know, Max was watching from down the hall, sometimes he'd shed a few tears over it. After what was probably the millionth time he'd left her flowers, she finally took them. She figured he was just trying to be nice, make her feel welcomed, that's what she kept telling herself. And in that moment it was like something snapped in Max's head: he had to have Y/N, and when he did he'd keep her forever and ever and ever.

Pouring some champagne over your panties So that we can cheers

They were at a party after the race, she was getting absolutely shit-faced drunk. Y/N was wearing a short, sparkly party dress, the light catching every fleck of glitter as she moved. She danced the night away, downing drink after drink. That's when she bumped into Max, his glass of champagne pouring all over the front of her dress.

"Oh shit, I'm so sorry schatje (little treasure)...let me help you." Max grabbed a napkin, grabbing her by the waist and pulling her in closer to wipe her off. He knew this was a bit risky, but Y/N wasn't refusing his touch.

"Maxie...hi!" She giggled drunkenly leaning into his touch. This was perfect. Max tried his best to wipe her off, but her dress was still sticky with the fizzy fluid.

"Y/N, darling, you should get changed...your dress is in no condition to stay on your body." He smoothed her hair over with one hand, looking into her eyes as she spoke.

"No, im fine Maxie!" She whined. She clearly wasn't, and Max wasn't going to skip out on the chance to be her knight in shining armour; even if in reality he was a wolf in sheep's clothing.

Counting the hours, counting the seconds 'Till I can feel your bones

"Oh, but Y/N, liefje (darling), you're too drunk to think straight." His tone had the slightest hint of mockery, but she was too drunk to tell.

"No, Max...I'm perfectly fine to be alone.'' She spoke between hiccups, trying not to stumble over herself as Max led her back to her room.

"No you're not, come on...let me take care of you." There was a certain darkness in his eyes as he spoke. As he led her into her hotel room he had an almost malicious smirk on his face. He didn't want to take advantage of her though, even if he was counting the hours until he could feel her bones beside him. All he wanted was a chance to get closer to her, to get inside her head.

Dance in your shoes, read your diary to Get inside of you, you, you

This was Max's chance. As she peacefully slept he got up and began to go through her things. Her suitcase, her clothes, her purse, everything he could find. That's when he found it: Y/N's diary. He flipped through the pages, taking photos, drowning himself in her words. He knew it was wrong to read her diary, but this was perfect. It was all her emotions, written out in front of him. This was the way, he thought, the way to get to her. Infect her with his love, rot her mind with his sugary sweet lies. He needed her in the palm of his hand.

Forever and ever and ever.

I'm not a coward, I'm not a hero But I can be your toy I'll be the pill that you wanna swallow When you're looking for the joy

Reading her diary had been like dissecting her brain, he learned everything about her. What she liked, what he hated, the things that made her weak in the knees and swoon, and the things that turned her off. He knew just the way to have her at his will, have her wrapped around his finger. And that's exactly what was happening. After weeks of tedious yet discreet manipulation, he almost had her. Max was the one Y/N would go to first when she felt down, when she needed to get something off her chest, when she was excited about something. It was almost like he was her drug, little did she know it was all his fault. But she was too oblivious to realize it. Her friends tried to warn her, but it was no use. He was already getting to her, he'd already turned into her joy-pill.

Cried on your nudes, wearing your perfume Now I taste like you, you, you

This was wrong, so wrong. He knew it. But Max would go to the ends of the earth to even have a small taste of her. He sat quietly outside her apartment building, phone in hand. What a stupid, oblivious girl. She'd left the window wide open as she got changed, Max snapping pictures of her naked body without her knowledge. Once back in his own home, he pulled out his phone to flip through the pictures. Such a pretty, ignorant girl. He felt himself getting harder and harder as he looked at her body in each picture. Max could cry over her nudes, he needed her so badly. He grabbed a small bottle from him bedside drawer: a small travel-spray of Y/N's perfume. Max sprayed his pillow with it every night, craving her scent and body beside him. He decided to take a shower to get his mind off things, but now he practically tasted like her. There was no taking his mind off her now.

Forever and ever and ever

Oh, why don't you give a little love now, baby?

Alone, in the shower Using my left hand so it feels like you

Max had been alone in the shower for about an hour now, jerking his cock to the thought of her. The smell of her perfume still lingered, the mental image of her naked body driving him insane. He needed to have her, he couldn't wait much longer. But he almost had her, she was just within reach. He came with a loud groan, his release coating his own hand. He could only imagine how much better his cock would feel elsewhere; in her hand, her mouth, her pussy...but he had to wait just a little longer.

So please, I'm begging To feel something new

It had been like a predator circling its oblivious prey; she had no clue he already had her in the palm of his hand. She was under the impression that this was what she wanted, this was all out of her own volition. But that was far from the truth. Max was behind it all, meticulously puppeteering her feelings. But she'd never know, he'd make sure of it. As she entered his apartment, the feeling of his hand on her lower back was sending chills through her body, Max smilled maliciously to himself. But he had to make her think she was the one in control, that this was her choice. They walked to his couch and both sat down, their bodies mere millimeters away from each other. He had already brought out a bottle of wine and two glasses for them. They sipped on their drinks and just talked, but behind his blue eyes he was waiting for the perfect window to strike. About 4 and a half glasses in, she'd scooted closer to him, leaning her head on his shoulder subconsciously. Now was the moment, thought Max. His hand slipped away to her thigh, slowly rubbing up and down and driving Y/N mad.

"Max..." she whined his name, it was like music to his ears.

"What, liefje (darling), what's wrong?" He had to hide his smirk, the slightest hint of mockery and possibly pity in his tone.

"Fuck...I think I need you..." She was too drunk to think before she spoke, her thighs rubbing together slightly as she yearned for some sort of friction.

"Aww...you need help darling?" He lifted her chin, pulling her in closer. All she could do was nod, letting him pull her in for a kiss.

One thing led to another, and they ended up in Max's bed. She'd practically been begging him to feel something new the whole way there, it's ironic how she thought she was the one in control. Max put her down onto the bed and reached under her skirt to remove her panties. He ran a finger through her folds, collecting her wetness.

"You're desperate me, huh schatje (little treasure)?" He brings his fingers up his mouth, licking them clean. All she could do was whine out a reply, she was desperate. With than Max knelt before her, leaving a trail of kisses up her thighs as Y/N squirmed with anticipation. The feeling of his tongue over her pussy, he ate her out like a man starved. Every moan that rolled off her tongue only riled him up more, he licked every inch of her center and sucked her clit like it was his last meal. As she begged him to let her come, her words caught in her throat with a squeal as he plunged two fingers into her entrance. She wanted to cry, it was all too much. "Aww, you wanna come liefje (darling)?" He smiled up at her and spoke in an almost mocking tone as he worked his fingers in and out of her and rubbed greedy circles on her puffy, overstimulated clit.

"Please, Maxie, please, please let me come...fuck!" She gasped out, her hands tangled in his hair.

"Since you asked so nicely, darling, I'll let you...come all over my fingers..." He sucked her clit and pumped his fingers even faster, pushing her over the edge. He came with a loud, straggled moan, her slick leaking out over Max's fingers and palm. He licked his fingers clean once again, then pulling himself back on top of her.

"You wanna taste yourself schatje (little treasure)? Hm?" He grabbed by the neck, with a rough gentleness, while taunting her with his patronizing tone. He kissed her roughly, Y/N whined at the taste of herself on his tongue and his hand gripping her neck, she needed more. Max was her drug, and she was too far into her addiction.

"Max I fucking need you...please." She reached up and pulled his face back down for another heated hiss.

"Anything for you, liefje (darling)." He smiled down at her, their foreheads touching. This was the moment Max had been waiting for for months, dreaming, fantasizing. He wouldn't wait another minute to make her his. So, he stripped himself of his clothing and Y/N removed whatever was left of hers. He cautiously got on top of her, like she was the most delicate creature on the planet, and aligned the hit tip with her hole. But he wanted to draw this out, so he slowly dragged the tip of his dick along her slit, rubbing it on her clit and then back down. Max could've died a happy man right there, his body hovering over hers as she begged for his cock and trembled.

"Please Max, stop teasing, I need it so fucking badly..." She said in a whiny, needy tone. Seconds later Max was pushing his cock into her, stretching her out as she moaned. He didn't waste a minute, not even allowing her to adjust. It's like a switch kicked off in him, he was feral. He thrust in and out of her at a fast, rough, yet delicious speed. Within minutes of him fucking her she was already a babbling mess.

"Aww, Y/N darling, already too fucked out to speak?" He mocked, deriving a little too much joy from seeing her at his will.

"Maxieee- fuck- 's too good...fucking fuck!" She moaned out, but Max was far from done yet. She felt her walls fluttering around him as his dick twitched, a tell-tale sign they were both gonna come.

"Need to come, liefje? Aww, I'm gonna fill you up so fuck- fucking good. Gonna claim this fucking pussy..." He groaned, feeling his climax reaching.

"Please, Maxie- fuck- need to come so bad, 's too much, fuck- please" She moaned out breathlessly, but she was already gone. The knot in her stomach had already snapped, spilling her slick all over Max's cock. He soon followed suit, his dick twitching inside her and the painting her walls with his come. He took a look down at where their bodies met, smiling maliciously down at the sight of the mix of his and her release leaking out on his cock. He then collapsed on to her with a loud groan, propping himself up on his elbows to look at her face.

"You're mine now...you get that? Or are you still too cockdrunk to understand me?" He spoke in an almost patronizing tone, running a had over her hair; all she could do was nod in her fucked out state. After catching his breath, Max got up and ran over to the bathroom. He came back minutes later, picking Y/N up from the bed. She whined into his neck.

"Come on, darling...gotta get you cleaned up..." With that, he dropped her down into the tub, and he practically worshiped her body. He ran his soapy hands over her whole body, washing off the sweat with the utmost caution. He used a washcloth to wipe the come off her sensitive center, she whined softly at times. But Max was extremely gentle, and when he got her out of the bath and sat her on the counter wrapped in a towel, he took a quick rinse. He then took them both back to the bed, giving her one of his t-shirts to sleep in. She drifted off peacefully in his arms, not knowing what she'd gotten herself into. Now Max had her, he was inside her head. He was going to keep it that way, forever and ever and ever.

[feyhunter78]

Hi!! I’ve been thinking about that one scene in 10 Things I Hate About You, when Patrick walks Kat to the swings when she’s drunk and he says “Leave it to you to use big words when you're shitfaced.” Except! Kat is Nerd Miguel who somehow ended up drunk at some frat party or something, and Patrick is reader who has to deal with his antics. I imagine him spewing random scientific words/facts that reader tries her best to understand. All while she’s just trying to sober him up a bit. This lil scenario has been running through my head, and who best to share with than you!

(The chokehold you’re Miguel, specifically nerd Miguel, has on me is insane! It’s a great distraction while at work! <3)

I love that scene so much!!!! I made this a bit different, but I think I still hit the mark for ya anon <3 (Also this is a normal house party bc guys that are not in a frat are not allowed to attend frat events just like with sororities!)

House Parties

Art cred: Treelover_5

Nerd!Miguel masterlist

You weave through Brett’s parents’ guest house on the edge of town, downing your drink as you search for Miguel. It was really nice of Brett to invite you and Miguel to his pre-winter break bash. You know Miguel doesn’t party much, and Brett has been trying to encourage him to come out of his shell, so this was the perfect opportunity.

The sound of chanting draws your attention, and you see Miguel surrounded by a few other friends of Brett’s. Brett seems to be explaining something to him, car keys in hand. You drove here, so you know the keys aren’t Miguel’s, which makes you feel a bit better.

“Chug, chug, chug.” They chant, and you watch as Brett and Miguel simultaneously shotgun their beers, the foam dripping down Miguel’s tan skin.

Smash. You think instantly, your brain supplying you with images of what Miguel might look like as he comes up from between your legs, his lips, and chin slick with your arousal.

Then Miguel throws the beer down and throws his arms up victoriously.

Brett finishes, then throws his beer down as well and hooks an arm around Miguel’s neck, bringing him down to his level. “My boy Miguel has done it again! Absolute beast of a man!”

The other guys cheer, and you see Miguel smile shyly.

He’s been gaining in popularity, not that he really cares, nor do you, but it makes you happy that he’s made some new friends. Even if those friends challenge him to shotgun races.

Miguel spots you before you can even breach the circle and latches onto you. “Y/N, I won, did you see?”

Brett gives you a look that means dude should probably get some air, and you nod in response.

“Yeah I did, hey Miguel, you wanna step outside with me?”

“Yes, always.” He says instantly, his lips far too close to your neck for you to feel normal about.

You guide him through the crowd and out the door, his arm slung over your shoulders. He’s so heavy, all those stupid hot muscles making him dead weight as he mumbles to himself incoherently.

“What was that sweet boy?” You ask, when you hear something that sounds like your name.

“Did you know that the hydrochloric acid in the human stomach is so strong it can dissolve metal? Thin metal, mind you, but still, metal.” Miguel says, his cheeks red, his glasses perched precariously on the edge of his nose, and a goofy smile on his face.

“Wow, that’s crazy.” You say, struggling under the weight of him as you try to lug him over to a nearby porch swing, the neatly trimmed grass around you littered with solo cups and soaked with various spilled drinks.

“And beer—beer is twice as fizzy as champagne. I know this for a fact, I had four or so beers? They taste bad, did you know that?”

“Yeah, house parties usually have pretty cheap beer.” You laugh, swaying a little when Miguel leans on you.

“And cheetahs, super inbred, ten thousand years ago, taboos were broken, and now they’re all…ya know, the way they are.” He continues on, letting out a surprise oof, when you slide him onto the white porch swing, the weathered green cushions not doing much to break his fall.

“Very cool, so now can you tell me what the hell you were drinking in the twenty minutes I left you alone? Besides beer? Because Miguel, you are so fucked up.” You ask, sitting next to him, your legs tucked beside you as you turn to face him, an affectionate smile on your face.

He drags a hand down his face, and his glasses fall into his lap. He pouts at them, a small aw leaving his lips.

You pick them up and hand them back to him, and he clumsily puts them back on.

“Brett suggested we do shots before the races, he passed his midterm, we were celebrating with him.”

Fucking Brett. You loved the guy, he was nice, nonthreatening, watched out for you when you were in the Sig Epp house, but he also was a menace, who wanted everyone to be as drunk as he was.

“Miguel, you’re a big guy, but you don’t have Brett’s tolerance.” You pat his chest consolingly.

Miguel looks at you, eyes a little hazy, his shirt unbuttoned far more than it normally would be, his hair ruffled. “I’m tougher than I look.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.” He leans his head back against the swing, staring up at the stars. “You know a cloud can weigh around a million pounds?”

“I did not know that.” You respond, trying to see if you can check his pupils without him noticing.

He notices and rolls his head to face you. “Everyone blames women when they don’t have sons, but it’s actually male genes that decide it.”

“I did know that one, actually.” You say, as you run your hands through his hair, pushing it out of his face.

He smiles, and you swear it’s brighter than any star in the sky. “You’re so smart, y/n.”

You’re taken aback for a second, heat rushing to your cheeks. “Thanks, that means a lot coming from you.”

“So smart and so, so pretty. I know I said it’s on me, but will you give me a girl y/n? I want a daughter with you, my brains, your everything else, she’d be unstoppable.” He says, his words slurring together. Then he falls forward with a yelp, hands, and elbows hitting the dirt.

You sit frozen in shock, staring down at Miguel, before you snap out of it and scramble to help him. “Shit, Miguel, are you okay?”

He holds up his right hand, it’s bleeding. “Just put some sugar on it, it’ll heal faster.”

“Full of fun facts, aren’t you?” It’s another trip back inside to find a sink and a band-aid, his words still bouncing around in your head.

I want a daughter with you.

Fuck, he’s going to kill you one day, and you’ll let him.

Not me doing a little callback to what Miguel thinks at the end of his encounter with drunk y/n hehe

TL: @bat-bae, @nyctophilic0vitnir, @smokeywhalee, @obi-mom-kenobi, @prowlingforfood, @penggion, @crystal-crax, @oharasfilipinawife, @generalkenobitrash, @melsimps, @chrishy973, @farrowroyale, @palesatan, @scaryplanetdestroyer, @denzmallows

[zombiewhor3]

FORBIDDEN

fem reader x eddie munson

WARNINGS: smut. characters are 18+, sneaking around, forbidden dating, angst, fluff,

"fuck just like that eds" she hummed into his ear, she had her back pressed against the wall, his hands holding onto her legs as they wrapped around his back to give her some leverage.

he was thrusting into her so hard that her eyes had almost started to roll back into the inside of her skull, her nails dug into the sides of his shoulder blades only making his breaths grow raspy as she moaned aloud his name.

she wasn't supposed to be fucking her brother's best friend but she didn't have to tell him everything about her life.

Besides what would life be without the pleasure of sneaking around and screwing munson.

The knot in her stomach had came undone, she let her mouth stay open in an 'O' shape so that only a soft moan had slipped out of her.

he shushed her gently as he pulled himself out of her with a groan, he wanted to just go for another round right then and there.

but they had a small party in the basement just below them that was going to start soon and well Gareth was going to be home shortly.

if he didn't get arrested for using his fake ID to buy more beer for the rest of them.

Eddie had cleaned her up and clothed her before getting himself ready, she watched as he ruffled his hair in her bedroom mirror.

his fingers running through his fizzy bangs to make them look less out of place,

"do you really have to go" she whined and could see his smile through the reflection of the mirror, he could also see her pouting a little.

"I'll be back you know that sweetheart" he turned to face her and could see her sitting on her bed with her legs crossed.

"you'd better hide that before Gareth starts asking you questions again" she gestured to the hickey that was on his neck, it was a shade of red and purple, he turned to look in the mirror to pull down his shirt collar a little.

he turned back around to look at her,

"you're so lucky we don't have time for another round because i would so leave you covered"

"and leave me dead because how would i explain to my brother i 'burnt my neck with my straightener' seven times"

he smiled at her sarcastic remark,

"then you just have to get a lot better at makeup, or maybe say you met a vampire, your brothers a geek he'll surely believe it"

she smacked his shoulder playfully,

"now get out before my brother catches you"

-

"Gareth you said a small party! This is the whole fucking town not to mention our entire high school is here!" She yelled over the music and could see her brother roll his eyes.

"just enjoy it, go have some fun maybe talk to a few new people, make some friends!"

he pushed a beer in his hand before he had disappeared into the crowd.

She hadn't hated parties but she hadn't loved them either, small ones with less than the entire town didn't seem that bad.

the music was loud and half of the people in the room were already tipsy or just flat out drunk.

some couples had gotten a little to touchy to which it made her think of Eddie, besides where the hell was he anyways?

and with the question she could feel a pair of hands start to rub at her shoulders, the silver rings leaving a cool bite on her skin.

she turned to see him standing there shockingly without a beer or a cigarette in his mouth.

he went to kiss her but she put a finger in front of his face, "my brother could be watching" she spoke and could feel his hand on hers.

up the stair case and into her bedroom, without even a hesitation his lips were already pressed against her skin sucking and nipping so he could purposely leave marks on her.

she let out a soft moan as her hand cupped and grabbed at the bulge in his jeans with even just the simple friction of her hand he groaned out to her sending a warm sensation throughout her skin and a pumping one through her heart.

she could feel herself fluttering from the impatience and the boundary of clothing that was between the two of them, it made her tug at the collar of his shirt until he finally stripped it away from him and tossed it to the floor.

he pulled his lips away from her skin so he could look down at her, so he could flip her body over to where she was straddling him, her hands resting on his abdomen, she let out a small breath because she already knew what he wanted.

and yet she didn't mind because she had her hand on his crotch where now she had pulled his pants completely off of him,

she gave him the puppy dog eyes as she was pulling off the cotton of his boxers teasing him by taking her sweet time.

he grabbed at her hair using his fingers to swirl it around into a pony tail he was able to grab to bob her head down on his cock, but not before she licked a stripe up it to just give him a small taste of the pleasure like he had done to her.

"i so wish i had my camera i'd reminisce on this til the day i die" he remarked and could see the hint of light in her eyes only grow even brighter,

she gestured to the Polaroid camera that was sitting a top her night stand, without a hesitation he grabbed it just as she sank her mouth down onto him.

she saw the flash and could see as he shook the picture to let it process,

she could feel him hitting the back of her throat with his size and it made her gag a little but she choked it back along with the set of tears that prickled in her eyes because she enjoyed it.

she enjoyed having the feeling of his hand in her hair and the sound of his moans ringing through her ears, everyday she replayed them each and every time she could.

the next thing she knew she had swallowed his load, it poured down her throat and a shallow breath eddie was looking down at her, his hand letting go of her hair but he offered her one of the hair ties on his wrist to put it up,

to which she pulled it back and remained on her knees between his legs, she placed her hands onto her thighs before straddling over him, she sank herself down onto his cock and she could hear the click of the camera once again.

Eddie let out a soft groan at the feeling of her cunt sinking around him, the way her walls were already clenching as he held onto her waist so she kept her balance.

she was riding him so perfectly so nice that eddie couldn't resist the soft moans that kept slipping from his lips let alone the profanity he had let fall from his mouth as she started to bounce up and down a top of him.

"doing such a good job princess" he praised and gave her sides a slight squeeze as a way to praise her for the way she was riding him so good and well the fact his cock throbbed when he felt her moan with each and every thrust.

each and every touch they were feeding one another had only ended up leading to a ride of an orgasm that caused her to cry out.

and well the pictures he had taken of her that now he tucked into her nightstand just until after the party while he got her cleaned up.

-

y/n was out and Eddie was sitting in their living room Gareth rested on the couch next to him with a can of beer clasped in his hand,

he looked over at eddie who was reaching into his pocket as a cigarette dangled from the corner of his lips.

"gareth do you have a lighter?" he asked and watched as he slipped a hand into his pocket to pull out a lighter that was out of fluid.

tossing it he pulled a draw out from under the coffee table and searched through it to which it had figured y/n took the matches up to her room so she could light her stupid candles.

he stood up from the couch and with a hefty sigh he made his way up the stairs and into her empty bedroom, her bed was disheveled with her sheets a tangled mess and pillows tossed everywhere even along the floor.

he tossed a pillow back onto her bed before reaching into the drawer of her night stand where she had usually kept everything away from Gareth including the matches,

once he found the box he had almost shut the drawer but a glare of a polariod picture caught his eye.

multiple polaroid pictures rested in a stack to which he pulled them out, his eyes widening and his face turning into a digust and still yet a shock at what the hell he had just seen.

quickly he shut the drawer as the pictures were still in his hands,

y/n walked through the door with a bag of groceries her hand to which she tossed a bag of candy to Eddie who was sitting on the couch before she set the rest of the groceries out onto the kitchen counter.

Gareth's shoes had been a loud noise against the wooden stairs as he was running down them, nearly tripping at his rapid speed but he ignored it as he stepped a foot back into his living room to see where Eddie sat.

y/n had stepped in to see what all the commotion was about and to her surprise Gareth had a look on his face, one that suggested she had done something wrong or maybe he had found the hidden beer she had stole from him.

"hello to you too?" she remarked and looked down at his hands, he held two things.

a box of matches taken from her nightstand drawer and a set of pictures also taken from her night stand drawer, he could see both of their eyes widen a little as he tossed them down out onto the coffee table.

"you were in my room"

she muttered and watched as a sarcastic expression arose on his face and he raised an eyebrow at her as his arms folded,

"that's what you care about? you don't care that you slept with one of my friends?"

he sounded pissed, she could hear it in his voice and see it with the way his face looked

she had no words or expression except for the eyes that looked down at the floor beneath her as she could hear him start to talk like a parent would, or even just as a brother would.

"i told you my friends were off limits, we've had that ground rule for years. why would you go behind my back and do something like this y/n?" he was lecturing her about the rule, the same damn rule he couldn't follow himself, well it was never to this extent.

"you flirt with my friends all the time! every time i have someone over you flirt with them!" she muttered back and folded her arms with a huff,

"using cheesy pick up lines for fun isn't the same as sleeping with one of my friends, you've ruined everything y/n, what the hell were you expecting" she didn't blame him for being angry or being upset but just maybe he was going over the top with it.

"me and him have been seeing each other for the past 4 months, nothing has changed between me and you, or you and him. without those damn pictures you would've never noticed anything that was different"

without even another word from her or her brother she pulled her car keys from the pocket of her coat before slamming the front door behind her.

"4 months and you didn't think to tell me you were seeing my sister?" Eddie put out the leftover cigarette bud in his mouth, blowing some of the smoke out of his pursed lips as he tried to think of something to say back to him.

"i figured it'd be best to keep it on the down low" Eddie replied and could see the expression on Gareth's face change as he stood up from the couch, "i get how you think this is going to hurt you but its not"

-

she had been doing everything to avoid not just her boyfriend but her own brother as well, in fear of pissing her brother off and in fear of destroying the friendship the two of them still seemed to have left together.

she had let herself rot in her room, listening to music or sneaking out to buy beer just to bring it back and get herself drunk while lying back on her bed.

she had been at this for weeks now, only going to school and coming straight home to avoid any unwanted contact with anyone that heard about the situation, which pretty much meant every single person that was apart of the hellfire club had heard the news.

thankfully Gareth hadn't dug any deeper in her room to find the other pictures that were hiding in a shoe box under her bed because surely then he would've probably killed Eddie right then and there in their living room.

she could hear a knock at her door but it only made her turn up the music louder to try and drown out the sound of whoever was on the other side, but the knocking only got louder and louder until her door was swung open.

her brother stood with a plate of dinner in his hands and she turned away her head and diverted her attention back to the book she had in the grasp of her hands.

he turned down the music and set the plate down onto the night stand beside her, she shut the book and placed it in her lap as she looked up at him, "get out" she muttered and could see him fold his arms and lean against her dresser.

but he didn't budge he stayed right in the same spot, "Gareth get out of my room" she gestured for him to walk out of her open bedroom door but he looked down at his shoes and finally back up to her,

"you can't ignore me forever, besides the group wonders why you don't come down stairs anymore and well Eddie just doesn't show up or when he does he's quiet some days he doesn't say a word at all"

she couldn't blame him if what Gareth was saying was true, because she understood the awkwardness that he must've faced when he was in the same room as him.

"why would he?" she replied and folded her arms in her lap as she laid her legs out straight onto the bed,

"you two are," he paused as he tried to think of the right words to top of his sentence without sounding like an asshole or a softie.

"you two are the most important people in my life, to lose you both over something so stupid would never be able to reverse itself"

her body shifted a little and she watched as his eyes softened when he looked at her.

"nothing will happen, we'll always be the same old Eddie and y/n back to normal" she sighed a little and could see him shake his head.

"you two can't break up, if you stay together it'll bring back the balance we need"

he watched as she smiled a little before getting up out of her bed to hug her brother.

"thank you gare, and i promise no matter what happens we'll always be the same"

[jjasen]

have you ever been in love?

summary: confessions at Midsummer’s with JJ

warnings: alcohol, cursing, angst aplenty 

a/n: for context, reader is Kiara’s childhood best friend and hangs out with the Pogues, and is also family friends of the Camerons ❀ 

word count: 2.9k

You and Kiara made your way across the neatly manicured lawn of the country club towards the Heywards, who were setting up the grill, arms linked as you tried not to stumble in your heels or trip over the hems of your dresses. Kie disentangled herself from your arm in order to approach Pope as she called out in an absolutely atrocious British accent, “Excuse me sir, but are we supposed to shuck these ourselves?” 

Pope spun around, ready to chew out another entitled kook, but relaxed when he saw it was the two of you. He nodded at you, then addressed Kie, “That accent was really bad,” he laughed. She made a face and scrunched her nose at him. 

“Looks good, Pope,” you smiled at him. “What are you making?” 

“Oysters,” he replied. You wrinkled your nose, and seeing your expression, he offered, “You know, oysters are supposed to be natural aphrodisiacs.”

“You’re not really selling it well, Pope,” said Kie, rolling her eyes and adjusting her purple flower crown. 

“Oh, shut up,” he said, “Anyways, I thought the two of you weren’t coming to this Midsummer’s shit.”

“Kie’s mom made her go, so she forced me come to ‘suffer in the oppressive horde of elitists’ with her,” you explained, turning your head as you heard somebody call out your name. Sarah waved at you from the porch and beckoned you to come over.

“Little miss Kook princess is summoning your presence,” Kiara grumbled. Pope snorted, glanced at you, and unsuccessfully tried to play it off as a cough. 

“Kie, you know I’m not getting in between whatever happened with...that,” you said patiently, rolling the shell pendant of your necklace between your fingers. She rolled her eyes but waved her hand at you and smiled gently, signaling you to see what Sarah wanted. You trekked back across the lawn and smiled as you approached the vivacious blonde.

“Babes, you made it!” Sarah cheered, looping her arms around your neck and pulling you in. You could smell her flowery jasmine perfume, and her wavy blonde hair tickled your nose.

“Yeah, I did! Sorry I missed your entrance, though, Kie and I were running late. You came with Topper, right?” You asked, glancing at her aforementioned boyfriend, who was sulkily nursing a crystal tumbler full of amber liquid and glowering at everyone who approached him.

She winced. “Sore subject. Let’s go get something to drink, yeah? I’ll tell you all about it.” You followed her to the bar on the edge of the dance floor, where Sarah ordered you both glasses of lemonade with sparkling water, sprigs of edible flowers and mint adorning the glasses. 

You smiled as you sipped your drink at one of the tall bar stools. “Tastes like childhood,” you said, having drunk countless glasses of the fizzy lemon beverage at Tannyhill with Sarah. The two of you continued to chat, watching  couples, including Ward and Rose, drift in their finery and flower crowns across the dance floor. 

“I swear to god, she’s going to poke Wheezie’s eye out with that thing,” Sarah laughed as you watched Rose squeeze the youngest Cameron sibling to her side as she talked to the Dr. Thornton. She suddenly frowned and glanced over at you, fiddling with her necklace and biting her lip. 

“Do you think you’ve ever been in love?” she asked, her face solemn, her honey-brown eyes widening. 

You thought of your friends, of the Pogues, all of you laughing together at the Chateau. You thought of JJ slinging his arm around you, belting out Taylor Swift lyrics with you, a beer can in his hand, of his casual, lopsided grin when he called your name. 

“I don’t know,” you said uncertainly. “Maybe. Why do you ask?”

“I don’t know. I just- I just don’t think Topper gets me, y’know?” Sarah said, eyeing him and Kelce, who were downing shots and laughing on the porch. She traced a finger absentmindedly across the rim of her glass. “He’s just...so serious about everything. I don’t know, he’s getting really possessive all of a sudden, and I feel so- so suffocated, I guess.” 

You nodded and hummed in contemplation, understanding that she already felt smothered by her father’s expectations, but in the back of your mind you were still thinking about Sarah’s question. 

Had you ever been in love?

Was it love that you felt when JJ plucked a blushing pink beach rose off of the bushes that lined the boardwalk and tucked it in your hair, saying it reminded him of you? Was it love that time he taught you how to surf and applied aloe to your sunburnt back, and every muscle in your body tightened when his touch lingered a moment too long over you? Was it love when you answered his drunken 3:00 a.m. calls, and he slipped through your bedroom window just to hold you tight as he cried over his father? 

You blinked rapidly, trying to clear the thoughts of him from your mind, and turned to Sarah, who sprung up off of her stool all of a sudden. “Come on, let’s dance!” she exclaimed, grabbing your hand and dragging you onto the dance floor impatiently, her hand gripping yours tightly, and you tried not to stumble over the hem of your dress. 

“Sarah, you know I don’t dance,” you insisted, resisting her insistent tugs on your arm. 

“It’s not that hard! I’ll teach you, I promise. It won’t be the same as our Just Dance battles, I swear, I’ll go easy on you,” she wheedled. You rolled your eyes and relented, allowing her to take both of your hands and place your left hand on her shoulder, the other resting on her waist. She guided you through a basic waltz, despite the jazzy, fast-paced music that was floating through the night air, the string lights bathing everything in a warm, golden glow.

“Okay, I’m going to spin you now!” she exclaimed gleefully, twisting her arm and letting you go. Your eyes widened as you felt her hand slip from yours,  and you stumbled into Rafe instead of whirling back to Sarah. He was standing at a table alone, tumbler in hand, and he grabbed your waist with one arm, lifting his drink higher with his other hand so as not to spill it. 

“Hey, watch it!” He exclaimed gently. “You okay?” His forearm clenched around your waist to steady you as he looked down at you and set down his drink, a mixture of concern and amusement in his eyes. 

“Yeah, sorry,” you said, avoiding eye contact and tucking your hair behind your ear. You were unsure with where you stood with Rafe after his altercation with JJ and Pope at the annual summer movie night. “Sarah was trying to spin me, she was teaching me to dance, and I-” 

Rafe cut you off, waving his hand. “It’s all good,” he said absentmindedly, his eyes focused on something over your shoulder. If you had looked behind you, you would have seen JJ drawing near. “Here, show me what you got.” You glanced up at him as he caught your hand smoothly and twirled you, the skirt of your dress gently swirling out around your legs. 

“Okay, okay, pretty good!” He encouraged, looking you up and down. You laughed and let go of his hand, turning around to look around for Kie and biting your lip. 

Instead, you saw JJ approaching the dance floor, a tray of empty glasses perched with ease on one hand. He adjusted his bowtie with his other hand as he jogged down the porch steps towards you, looking dashing as ever in his server’s suit despite the purple bruise shadowing his jawline. You furrowed your brow, sure that you’d asked him yesterday if he was serving at Midsummer’s today, and that he had replied that he wasn’t.

JJ strode past you and lightly brushed your waist as he slipped behind you to hand a note to Sarah, and a shiver rushed down your spine at the brief contact. He glanced at you, at your dress, his gaze hardening as he saw Rafe standing behind you.

“JJ!” you greeted him, “I didn’t know you were serving tonight.” 

“Yeah, well, I didn’t know you were here with him,” he said, jutting his chin at Rafe, “so I guess we’re even.” 

“What? No, I’m not-” you faltered, but he turned around to go back inside. 

“While you’re at it, get me a Mai Tai, huh, buddy?” Rafe called out. “Make it two!” Kelce jeered, making his way over to you. 

“Rafe, please stop,” you said coldly, sending him a scathing look as you tried to follow JJ up the steps, where Kiara’s mother grabbed your wrist.

“Mrs. Carerra!” you exclaimed, startled, straining to to see if JJ was okay.  Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Rafe, Kelce, Logan, and Noah follow him into the club. Your stomach sank with dread. Not again, you thought, please, don’t hurt him.

“Honey, just let him go,” she said, with sympathy in her eyes. “Boys like them, they’re not worth it.” 

You jerked back, unexpectedly stung at her words. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Carrera, but I really have to go,” you said, looking for JJ desperately through the club’s windows. “He’s worth it to me.”

Striding in purposefully, heels clicking on the floor, you ran through room after room of the country club in search of the blond pogue. “JJ?” you called out, hearing nothing but the distant music and chatter of the people outside in response. You made your way back outside, disheartened, hoping to find Pope and Kie to help you find JJ. 

You hurried across the wraparound porch, looking for a glimpse of Kiara’s lavender dress or a flash of brown curly hair as you rushed down the steps. 

“Look- look, man, I can walk myself, I got legs,” you heard. JJ. Wide-eyed with disbelief, you watched as a security guard roughly manhandled JJ across the porch. Heads turned to watch the confrontation. 

“Hey, Mr. Dunleavy, I see you got your drink there, I’m actually gonna down that,” JJ rambled, “Whew!” The security guard tightened his grip on him and jerked him down the steps. “Thanks, Daryl, really appreciate the discretion,” he said sarcastically, “I actually just need to find my date and I’ll be going...oh, there she is.”

JJ turned to Daryl, spreading his arms wide and giving him a mocking salute before snagging your hand. “JJ, what are you even doing?” you whispered, taken aback. He shushed you. “Pope, Kie, Rixon’s cove! Let’s roll!” he called over his shoulder, and you could hear Mr. Heyward and the Carreras admonishing their respective children as they ran to join the two of you, whooping with delight. 

Your heart began to pound as JJ took your hand and led you through the crowd with ease. You grinned despite yourself as the two of you broke into a run across the grass, hand in hand, veering around the club to where his motorbike was parked. Pope, Kiara, and John B were right behind you, panting and laughing, as JJ grabbed the extra helmet he kept for you and held it out. 

“We’ll meet you guys there, just give us a sec,” he announced, leaving no room for discussion. You wondered what had happened with Rafe, what had been said or done, that had gotten him so worked up. Once the others had loaded into the Twinkie and left, sending the two of you curious, questioning glances, you turned to JJ, helmet in your hands. 

“Okay, what’s going on?” you asked gently, stepping towards him and setting your helmet on the seat of his bike.

“Did you come here with Rafe?” JJ asked, his voice rough and scratchy, a strange tone of urgency in his question. The way he was looking at you made you feel feverish, a flush rising to your cheeks, and you were the first to break the intense eye contact. 

“Why do you care, JJ?” 

“Because- because I just do, okay?” 

“That’s not a reason,” you frowned. You fiddled with your necklace, the grooves of the seashell familiar and soothing to your touch. It was a tiny white clam shell that JJ had pressed into your palm once at the beach, a hole already bored into it. “For you,” he had said, grinning, his blue eyes sparkling in the sunlight, “a good-luck charm.” Later that day, you had strung it onto a dainty chain and clasped it around your neck, and hadn’t removed it since. 

JJ ran his hands through his hair roughly, pacing back and forth in front of his motorbike. “Fine. You really wanna know?” he snapped. He gesticulated wildly in the direction of the dance floor. “That was supposed to be me and you out there.” He huffed. “Listen, I like you, okay? I fucking- I fucking really like you, and I hate that I feel this way. I hate that I let myself think that I could ever deserve you. Shit, I’m falling in love, and I don’t know how to stop.” 

He rubbed his hands over his face and glanced at you, his gaze softening.

“We- we can pretend this never happened, I swear- shit, this wasn’t supposed to happen. I’ll get over you, I promise, just please- please don’t leave me,” he said desperately, his voice breaking and his blue eyes shining with unshed tears, begging you to respond with something, anything.

Something in your chest broke at the thought of JJ believing you could ever be capable of abandoning him. “JJ,” you whispered. You wanted, in that instance, to touch him more than ever, to pull him close to you. To hold him tight and never let him go.

“Listen, just tell me nothing is going to come out of this so that I can stop hoping, ok? I just- just please -” he rambled, before you reached for his face. You gazed into his clear cerulean eyes so intently you could have counted each of his eyelashes, and flickered your eyes down to his lips.

“JJ, stop,” you whispered. “I didn’t come here with Rafe. I would never do that to you.”

“What?” He blinked at you slowly, scanning your face in confusion, furrowing his brow. 

There was a blond eyelash on his cheekbone, and you brushed your finger over it, your cheeks burning, warm all over. You looked down. “I think this is the part where you’re supposed to kiss me.”

“What?” he said in disbelief. You gave him a gentle smile, and leaned in closer. You could feel the contours of his chest, feel his biceps flex as his arms hovered unsurely around your waist, the heat of his body incandescently burning through the thin silk of your dress.  

Standing on your tiptoes, you pressed a careful kiss to his cheek, light as a feather. You continued to brush your lips down towards his jaw, stopping at the sultry curve of his mouth. You could feel the pounding of JJ’s heart, his pulse quickening at your touch and his breaths shallow. Pulling away, you looked into his blue eyes questioningly. Was that ok? Did you like that as much as I did? You tried to communicate through your gaze.

“Oh,” JJ mumbled. “Oh.” 

Leaning down, with that casual crooked grin of his, he brought his hand up to cup the bare skin of your neck, the other now firmly pressed into the small of your back, drawing you into the delicious heat of his body. Before you could blink, his lips were crashing down on yours and your hands were tangled into his hair and his hand was tracing your jaw, blissfully hot and feverish and oh, so this is love. This is what love feels like. 

Breathless, you moved to gasp for air as JJ continued to lean into you, wanting more, nestling into your neck and trailing hot sloppy kisses down your collarbones. “I thought,” he murmured between kisses, “that I’d never get to do this with you.” He pulled away to look at you, his expression soft, vulnerable, blue irises gleaming beneath half-closed eyelids, the crescent shape of his mouth curving gently. You felt giddily intoxicated with his proximity, as if the edges of your body had melted into him, and you pressed him closer to you. 

JJ cleared his throat and let out a low laugh. “We should, uh- we should probably head over to the cove,” he whispered, his breath heady and hot against your cheek. You nodded, reluctant to let him out of your embrace as he tenderly put on your helmet and clasped it beneath your chin. You straddled the bike behind JJ, and he glanced back at you, as if to check that you were really there, that this was real, his eyes gleaming in the moonlight. You smiled at him widely and pecked his cheek in reassurance.

And then you were flying through the air, cheek pressed against JJ’s neck as the wind whipped through your hair, your arms wrapped around his waist. You could feel the muscles of his abdomen flex as he leaned forward, accelerating, and you thought, yes, yes, I have been in love. I am in love. 

[hauntingkiki]

HIII!!! can i request venture wedding hcs? how would their wedding be like with reader? How would they feel while getting ready?

IM CRYINGGG OMGG

SOMEONE PLEASE REQUEST A WEDDING ONESHOT SO I HAVE AN EXCUSE TO WRITE IT🙏🏻

Venture x Reader Wedding Headcanons

OverWatch

2nd POV

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

- let’s just start this off by saying; BABY IS STRESSING OUTTT!!

- they’re about to marry their best friend. YOU! the most BEAUTIFUL GIRL/PERSON IN THE WHOLE WORLD

- when they’re changing into their suit/with their groomsmen (a few guy colleagues and some of their guy family members) sloan is getting pep talks and words of encouragement from everyone in that room. not a single bad vibe is in the room!

- wedding theme!: whatever you want it to be. a classic, white wedding? you got it! gothic/vampire? hell yeah!

- ^ but! with your choice of theme; sloan also has some huge crystals (that match the theme ofc) that they’ve gotten from expeditions for table decoration!

- the location was kinda on sloan, they picked where they wanted to have the wedding BUT! they made sure YOU were okay with it before making it the finalized decision. if you didn’t like the location, don’t worry! they have like A MILLION MORE

- everyone in both of your families helped pay for the wedding (if needed), like your parents paid for your dress/suit and sloan’s parents paid for their suit

- when they were at the alter, they were sooo nervous, their hands playing with the rings on their fingers and the bracelets that were around their wrists to calm their nerves

- but when you walked down the isle with your father/father figure, all their nerves just melted away.

- you looked so GOOD in their eyes! their heart was racing, their eyes got watery, their face got hot (they cried) (you did too)

- your vows were pretty standard (if there’s spanish vows then yall did that too!)

- but when yall had your first kiss; you know this sucker dipped you into the kiss, twirling you like in those cheesy romance movies (LIKE IN TANGLED AT THE END)

- and now the reception.

- for the food a verity of sloan’s family meals and your family meals, most of them being hand made to avoid a lot of cost

- alcohol/champagne obviously. all the adults are either drunk asf or tipsy (if you have family who smokes/does drugs, it’s totally up to you if you want that in your environment!! i will not be saying anything about that because it’s very different for everyone)

- the younger kids who can’t drink get something fizzy! like apple cider or something!

- father daughter/mother son dance to whatever song you’d like:)

- sloan did a mother-child(son) dance to songbird by fleetwood mac OR mi cariñito by pepe aguilar

- first dance! sloan could not stop smiling like a fucking idiot, they were SO IN LOVEEE

- you both shed a few tears during the dance (and through the night)

- you two slow danced to (options because i can’t pick)

i only have i eyes for by the flamingos

unchained melody by elvis presley

here, there and everywhere by the beatles

bring it on home to me by sam cooke

amor eterno by rocío dúrcal

- everyone was BAWLING THEIR EYES OUT

- then the music played for the dance floor and it was some great songs! like;

september, earth wind and fire

i wanna dance with somebody, whitney houston

how sweet it is, james taylor

something stupid, frank n nancy sinatra

crazy in love, beyoncé

uptown girl, billy joel

rude, magic!

every little thing she does is magic, the police

and obviously some other songs!

- (FOR THE GIRLS/PEOPLE WEARING DRESSES) yall know the garter toss? where the groom goes under the brides dress to get it off all ‘sexy’ with the most embarrassing song on the planet while your family watched?

- yeah. yall did that.

- obviously with no littles present (14 and younger went somewhere else while this was happening)

- the song? pick your poison

get low, lil jon & the east side boyz

yeah!, usher

earned it, the weekend

let’s get it on, marvin gaye

grind with me, pretty ricky



- ^ COMPLETELY RANDOM, I WAS LOOKING FOR SONGS FOR THE GARTER TOSS AND THE PINK PANTHER THEME STARTED PLAYING…AND WE ARE THE CHAMPIONS BY QUEEN I CANT

- sloan definitely used their teeth to take it off, probably also got a little carried away too; kissing your legs and running their hands up and down before snapping back to reality when their mother literally SCREAMED at them for being under your dress for almost 5 minutes

- after the wedding, the two of you got to your hotel/air bnb and just relaxed, got out of your fancy outfits, took makeup off, showered (together LMAO) and just got comfy!

- you both just kind of talked about the night and what you wanted in the future and other things:)

- let’s just say you two didn’t get a lot of sleep afterwards😳

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

did i just write this all in one sitting? yes. yes i did.

I HOPE YOU ENJOYED!! THIS WAS SO MUCH FUN TO WRITE I LOVED IT!!

would you guys be interested if i made a wedding playlist for the (hypothetical) oneshot?😳

[grandlinedreams]

i luv ur writing ssoooooo much!!!!!!!!!

can u maybe write abt law taking care of u when ur super drunk

tyyyyyyy

OH HELL YEAH thank-you so much!! I hope I can do this justice for you!!

[Heads up!: alcohol/drinking, confession of sorts, post-wano]

You know your limits when it comes to alcohol, and you passed that threshold at least two drinks ago. You'd started out slow, watching as some of your crewmates drank with more abandon ㅡ but you can't blame them when you're supposed to be celebrating.

But then Nami had come to join you, passing off the drink in her hand to you. It'd been something fizzy and tasting of fruit ㅡ and then somewhere down the road, you'd been roped into drinking harder stuff.

And now the world is spinning against the backdrop of voices, louder for the varying states of inebriation near the bonfire. And then, in the distance, you can still hear the clap of fireworks.

"There you are," someone intones, low voice familiar before they sigh. "Don't tell me you're drunk too."

"Not drunk," you protest, and Law's eyes narrow before you amend, "Okay. Maybe a little." You pause, surveying the empty tankard beside you. "Maybe a lot."

"Perfect," Law sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. It was bad enough most of the others were either drunk or getting close to it, but you too? "Come on, time for bed. We're leaving in the morning."

"Don't wanna," you whine, and a muscle in Law's jaw jumps before he moves towards you. Ignoring your yelp of surprise as he scoops you up, adjusting his grip on you as he turns. "I'll puke on you if you drop me."

"I'll drop you if you puke on me," Law retorts. "I thought you were better than this. Just how much did you have to drink?"

"Enough," you answer, studying the skin of his chest exposed by his shirt, the peek of bandages beneath reminding your own injuries. "Shouldn't we celebrate not dying?"

Law halts for a second before he resumes walking, and you listen to the quiet symphony of crickets and laughter. "We should," he answers quietly, "you're right."

You sigh, leaning your head against the front of Law's shoulder and close your eyes, the floaty feeling of inebriation still buzzing in your veins. There's the rattle of a shoji door, the snap of it closing after Law steps through.

"Stay put," he tells you as he lowers you onto the futon. "I'm going to grab water."

"No," you say, grabbing his hand and tugging when he turns. "Stay." You pull again and he complies despite the brief roll of his eyes, and he makes a noise of surprise when you latch onto him.

"What are youㅡ"

"Be quiet." You bury your face in his chest. "Lay with me." Law tenses for a long moment before he sighs and relaxes, arms wrapped losely around you. Tattooed fingers drag through your hair.

"Your head's gonna hurt if you don't drink water," Law murmurs. Your lips brush bare skin.

"Don't care."

"You will." Law frowns at the way you cling to him. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." Your eyes close, deciding to let the words fall freely with the remaining liquid courage in your veins. The worst he can do is reject you completely, put an end to the odd relationship limbo you've existed in for months. "Just glad you're here." Pause. "Law?"

"What?"

"I love you." You can feel him tense, the slow sink of your own heart. At least you can write this off as being drunk, pretend that you never said it in the morning.

But Law surprises you as he relaxes, hand in your hair cradling gently, pressing you to hin as tightly as he can without hurting you, curling into you the way you do to him. Lips brush the top of your head. And then, softly,

"I love you too."

[pumpkinsy0]

Now I see a lot of Dallas with Tim or with Johnny content. But y’know what is would like to see? Dallas and Sodapop as a couple. I love tropes where one person isn’t use to genuine kindness and falls head over heels over the one person who is just that..

So General Headacanons for Dallas and Sodapop? (Whatever their ship name maybe because I refuse to call them Dallypop)

ive actually heard about this ship a bit but never read content for em, so this is a moment in history☝🏽☝🏽, ship name wise, off the tope of my head is like texas coke, cause soda in texas is called coke and yada yada yada, but booooo, and then there was fizzy state, but that sounds stupider, so listen i swear ill have a better one one of these days i swear

•as soon as i read this i thought “soda has no room to talk about pony and curly anymore”, if ur dating dally, ANY advice u have about dating should b thrown out the window and ur voice should fall on deaf ears

•theyve made out on someones car before, i wouldnt put that above them, especially if its someone who dally doesnt like

•dally makes comments about soda right in front of pony and pony hates it so much, he wants to rip his ears out hes not trynna hear that

•man even steve is like “??????” cause how did u guys get together what could yall possibly have in common enough to date each other for

•soda likes hearing about dallys nyc stories, some of em r fucked up, but others r pretty funny, like a coin toss when he asks him to tell him one

•dally cant rlly get THAT mad at soda, annoyed??? sure, but soda just has that face u cant get mad at, dallys not feelin 100% better, but he is rolling his eyes and letting whatever happened slide

•dally strikes me as a jealous/possessive partner he hates when soda gets hit on by anyone, he doesnt make it OBVIOUS that theyre together, but he does push them away

•yes, dally is staring while soda is working on a car, he would b staring harder if he saw soda at a rodeo

•getting drunk still isnt sodas scene, but dally does sneak soda over into bucks to party from time to time

•darry doesnt,,,even know how to go about this one, like at all, like yea, nothin BIG has changed but those two????rlly??????

•id like to think dally is more attentive to pony bc of soda and how important he is to him, kinda the same w soda and johnny

•it would take a while for dally to get used to how soda flirts bc how soda flirts is just not a way that dally is used to at all, but he doesnt let that show

[unabashegirl]

Meeting her || Part III

Author's note: hello everyone! As promised here is the final part of Meeting Her! I really hope you all enjoyed it! Let me know if you want me to continue with more prompts like "them getting married, moving in together, having kids, etc"

Golden boy

Meeting Her (1)

Meeting Her (2)

word count: 4.0K

The freezing air rushed into Y/N's apartment as she opened the front door, and she instinctively pulled the sides of her bathrobe closer to protect herself from the cold. Still groggy from sleep, she squinted to get a good look at Harry standing at her doorstep.

His rain-drenched figure, with curls flattened against his forehead and a shirt clinging to his torso, puzzled her. "Are you going to let me in?" he asked, interrupting her thoughts. She widened the door, and he stumbled in, clearly affected by alcohol. Y/N hoped he hadn't driven in such a state for everyone's safety.

As the cold air swept into her apartment, she felt a shiver down her spine, not only from the weather but also from the unexpected presence of Harry. She wrapped her bathrobe tighter around herself, creating a shield against the unwelcome chill.

"Why are you here?" she inquired, moving towards her bedroom to fetch pain relievers for the inevitable hangover. Y/N handed them to him along with an Alka-Seltzer.

“You know you are actually meaner than I thought," he slurred as he downed the fizzy water. Y/N observed him, amused by his intoxicated state. She couldn't help but notice the disarray of emotions playing across his face—frustration, confusion, and a tinge of vulnerability.

"How dare you come to my match with another man?" Harry accused, banging the glass on the coffee table. The abrupt sound echoed in the room, mirroring the abrupt intrusion of chaos into Y/N's quiet night. She could sense the storm of emotions brewing within him.

“We aren’t doing this with you drunk,” she retorted, “You can sleep on the couch.” Y/N's tone carried a mix of exhaustion and irritation. She was tired, not just physically, but emotionally worn out from the tangled mess that seemed to follow her wherever she went.

“On the couch?!” Harry exclaimed, “I have seen you naked, and I have not been able to stop thinking about it.” His words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of unspoken desires and the complexity of their relationship.

"Harry!" she cut him off, “This is not okay. You can’t just barge in here, accuse me of taking a man to your match, and then ask to share the bed with me.” The room felt charged with tension, a palpable awkwardness that only intensified with every word spoken.

“You did take a man to my match!” he insisted, “It’s mean. It’s rude. I would never do that to you!” The bitterness in his voice clashed with the vulnerability in his eyes, creating a stark contrast that left Y/N torn.

“It was my brother! Emma invited my brother and my father to your game!” Y/N clarified, frustration seeping into her words. The revelation brought a mix of realization and embarrassment to Harry's features.

“This is insane,” she muttered under her breath, running her fingers through her hair. The chaos outside seemed to reflect the chaos within her own mind. She felt a surge of irritation and helplessness, trapped in a situation she hadn't anticipated.

"Why were you ever angry? You have no right. You have a girlfriend and are in a serious relationship," Y/N argued, her tone cutting through the room's tense atmosphere.

“I don’t want you to be my mistress. I don’t want to be with another woman. I want you to be mine,” Harry confessed, fueled by the courage alcohol provided. Y/N's eyes widened at the raw honesty in his words, but beneath that honesty, she could sense a layer of confusion and conflict.

Y/N was at a loss for words, torn between emotions. The room felt like a battleground of conflicting feelings—desire, guilt, frustration, and a hint of longing. She didn't know what to tell him. She also didn't want to keep arguing and keep going back and forth. Y/N just wanted to move on either forward with him or alone. The guilt was killing her, and until he didn’t resolve his issues with Emma, she wasn’t going to keep her distance.

“I’m tired, and you're drunk. Let's sleep. Tomorrow we can talk about the rest,” Y/N suggested, signaling the end of the argument. Harry silently agreed with a nod as she prepared the couch for him.

“I’ll leave this extra blanket out here for you in case you get cold,” Y/N added, “it sometimes can get very cold. Goodnight.” The room felt heavy with unresolved tension, emotions lingering in the air even as Y/N retreated to her bedroom, leaving Harry alone with his conflicted thoughts.

The room was cloaked in darkness, and Y/N lay in her bed, staring into the emptiness of the night. The silence enveloped her, broken only by the occasional sounds of the city outside. Despite the late hour, sleep remained elusive, slipping through her grasp like grains of sand.

Her mind was a tempest of conflicting thoughts, each wave crashing against the shore of her consciousness. The recent encounter with Harry echoed in her thoughts, creating ripples of confusion and longing. His presence, so close yet unattainable, cast a shadow over her solitude.

She turned restlessly in her bed, the sheets whispering in protest. The subtle creaks of the mattress mirrored the restlessness within her soul. The room, once a sanctuary, now felt like a cage trapping her with her own thoughts.

She couldn't shake the image of Harry standing at her doorstep, drenched in rain, his vulnerability exposed. The scent of alcohol lingered in her memory, and the echo of his words reverberated through the silent space. "I want you to be mine," he had confessed, and the weight of those words hung in the air.

A sigh escaped her lips as she contemplated the complexity of their connection. In the quiet of the night, she couldn't escape the truth: the magnetic pull drawing her toward Harry was undeniable. The intoxicating blend of desire and guilt was an intricate dance, a labyrinth of emotions that seemed impossible to navigate.

Closing her eyes, she tried to banish the thoughts that tormented her. Yet, as darkness surrounded her, memories flooded back with vivid intensity. The touch of his hand, the warmth of his breath, the raw honesty in his gaze—they lingered like ghostly imprints on her skin.

The proximity of the couch where Harry now slept only heightened the internal conflict. He was near, separated by mere walls, and yet a vast chasm seemed to stretch between them. The unspoken words hung in the air, leaving an uncharted territory of emotions that begged exploration.

A soft sigh escaped her lips as she sat up in bed, the city's distant hum a lullaby that failed to soothe her restless soul. The desire for clarity battled with the fear of unraveling the delicate balance they had maintained. Y/N couldn't ignore the truth any longer—the emotions she harbored for Harry were a force beyond her control.

Swinging her legs over the side of the bed, she padded softly across the room. The cool floor beneath her feet served as a grounding force, a reminder that the world continued to spin beyond the confines of her thoughts.

The door to the living room stood slightly ajar, and a sliver of dim light spilled into the darkness. Y/N hesitated for a moment before pushing the door open, revealing the silhouette of Harry on the couch. He slept peacefully, unaware of the turmoil his presence had stirred.

As she watched him, an ache settled in her chest—a longing for something undefined, a yearning for the answers that remained elusive. She wondered if he, too, wrestled with the complexities of their connection in the realm of dreams.

"Can't sleep either?" Harry's voice cut through the quiet darkness, his eyes still closed.

"No," Y/N admitted, standing awkwardly in the middle of her living room. The familiar surroundings of her apartment felt foreign, and an unspoken tension lingered in the air. Y/N felt like a visitor in her own space. A thick silence enveloped them as she contemplated the best way to invite him into her bedroom without sounding desperate. "Can you please sleep in the room with me? I can't sleep thinking you're out here and probably uncomfortable."

In the dimly lit room, she could barely discern his silhouette. Watching him rise to his feet, he reached for the pillow she had given him from her own bed. Y/N silently led him to her bedroom, a space he had never seen before.

The room emanated a tasteful vibrancy, adorned with colorful paintings and a large round paper lamp suspended in the center. Her bed boasted an array of pillows, matching a knitted throw blanket at its foot.

As Harry settled into the bed, his body relaxed. The room's cleanliness and orderliness prompted a desire for a refreshing shower. The bright white comforter was incredibly fluffy, the cold sheets providing a pleasant contrast against his skin. The pillows carried the comforting scents of lavender and vanilla, reminiscent of Y/N herself.

Y/N turned off the lamp, shrouding the room in darkness, and pulled the blankets up to her chin.

"I've never been in your bedroom," Harry whispered into the obscurity.

"Neither have I," she replied, settling into a comfortable position. A sense of ease washed over her, and sleep followed shortly after.

The morning dawned, and Harry ventured out to grab some breakfast for them. Surprisingly, he felt no hangover—just a slight ache in his body, understandable given the amount of alcohol he had consumed.

Pulling up the hood of his jacket to conceal his famous hair, he strolled down the street with a clear destination in mind. A craving for eggs, hot sauce, black coffee, and a desire to surprise Y/N motivated him. With her still in slumber, he aimed to make their morning delightful, eager to start the day on a positive note. Apologizing for his previous night's state was his first priority, and what better way than to begin with a hearty breakfast for her.

His purchases included breakfast sandwiches, hot chocolate, a latte, an americano, and a cinnamon roll for Y/N. Though he may have bought more than necessary, hunger and the appealing array of food influenced his choices.

On his way back to her apartment, he couldn't escape the harsh gaze of newspaper covers featuring him. As anticipated, the media had capitalized on their loss, blaming him for the game's outcome. The penalty shot had been particularly abysmal, out of character for him, and he braced himself for the media's ruthless criticism. Lowering his head, he quickened his pace toward the apartment.

Arriving at the entrance, he noticed he was now plastered across newspaper headlines. The doorman greeted him with a smile, clearly relishing the newfound excitement his job had acquired since last night. The fact that the Manchester star had spent the night added an unexpected twist to his duties.

She was still asleep when he returned, so he ventured out into the living room. Taking a moment to appreciate up close all the pictures, the art, the books, and everything else she owned.

“Harry?” He finally heard her call out from the bedroom, her voice tinged with surprise.

“I am right here,” Harry responded as he walked into the bedroom carrying the bags containing the food, hoping it was still warm and delicious. “I bought us some breakfast.”

Her face and eyes were puffy, hair slipping out of the ponytail she had gone to bed with. She was still sleepy, and Harry found it adorable.

“How long have you been up?” She yawned as he climbed into bed with her. Y/N was surprised she hadn’t heard him get up or leave; she was a light sleeper. Harry proceeded to take out the food and prepare everything.

“About an hour or so,” Harry explained. “I didn’t know what you liked, so I made sure to get you some different things.” Y/N nodded and kindly smiled at him.

“Thank you,” Y/N was the first to take a big bite out of the breakfast sandwich. “This is so good!” she exclaimed after swallowing. “You need to tell me where you got this.”

“I’ll show you someday,” he chuckled as he continued taking ferocious bites. “When is your next show? Soon?”

“Yeah, in two weeks. I am a bit nervous about this one. It’s special.”

“I’m sure you’ll do great. You have a talent that not everyone has.”

“What are you talking about? You are insanely good at football. Not everyone can play like that,” Harry chuckled and shook his head at her as he sipped some coffee to pass the food.

“Most people would disagree with you today.”

“You mean because of the penalty shot?” she asked. “Everyone has bad days, H,” Y/N shrugged. “Everyone could have missed it, and the majority of the people currently judging you can barely get up from the couch or dribble a ball.”

“I guess you are right. It will pass,” Harry said as he finished his coffee.

“Unless football isn’t what you truly want, then you shouldn’t quit or put yourself down just because of what someone else says or does,” Harry nodded, wiping his mouth and cleaning his hands.

“Are you going to invite me to the art show?” Harry bluntly asked, “I promise to behave and not get drunk. I am sorry about that.”

“Mmm,” Y/N had only one condition, “I’ll invite you, but no one else.” She didn’t have to say a name for Harry to understand that she was talking about Emma and how she had made a big scene at her last show.

“Don’t worry. I am breaking things up with her today,” Harry said, making Y/N almost choke on her food. “I meant what I said last night, Y/N. I want to be with you and only you. That is unless you no longer want me.” Y/N gulped heavily as she tried to find the right words to express how much she wanted to be exclusive with him and be his.

“I— I do, but you have to make things right with her,” Harry nodded and reached for his phone in his back pocket. The coach was trying to reach him. He had training in a few hours and planned on telling Emma in the evening that he was done.

“I’ve got to go,” Harry said as he read over the urgent text he had received. They obviously had to do damage control after everything that had happened in the last game, and they needed Harry in attendance. “I’ll see you?” he asked as he leaned over and gave her a gentle hug. Harry didn’t leave without attempting to give her a kiss, but she refused, telling him only after he broke up with Emma.

It had been a few hours since Harry left, and Y/N found herself in her home studio, hunched over as she meticulously painted three canvases, adding the final touches. The music blared loudly, creating an atmosphere where the gloominess seemed to vanish, and she no longer felt trapped in sadness. Just as the song faded into the next one, the doorbell rang vigorously.

"I'm coming!" Y/N yelled as she set down her paintbrush and rushed to the door. Upon opening it, her regret was instantaneous—it was Emma. Without wasting a moment, Emma barged into the apartment.

"I know he's here," Emma declared as she walked into the living room.

"Who are you talking about?" Y/N asked, closing the door behind her, feeling an instant surge of nervousness. She hoped Harry hadn't left any evidence of his overnight stay.

"Harry! Who else!?" Emma yelled, storming into Y/N's bedroom. "I know he's here, Y/N. I'm not an idiot! People saw him around here this morning!"

"You're insane. Why would he be here?" Y/N questioned, trailing behind Emma, who was now opening every door in the apartment. Finally, they entered Y/N's studio. "And I don't appreciate you barging in here as if it's yours."

"I don't know! You tell me, Y/N!" Emma shouted, turning to face her for the first time, arms crossed. A friend had texted her about spotting Harry during a jog, and after analyzing the location, Emma realized it was Y/N's apartment.

"Lower your voice, Emma. This is my house. My home. I don't go to your house and yell at you there," Y/N retorted, clearly unwilling to tolerate Emma's attitude. She was nervous and just wanted Emma out.

"Why was he here?! I know he was here! My friend would never lie," Emma insisted.

"This is crazy!" Y/N replied. "Harry isn't here. Call him!"

"Don't you think I've done that already! He's not picking up!" Emma snapped, scanning the room for any evidence of Harry's presence. She didn't want to believe it, but things were starting to make sense. Emma finally understood why he always stood up for Y/N and shut her down whenever she mentioned her.

"I don't know what you want me to do or say! Leave! I have stuff to do!" Y/N pointed to the door, her eyes drifting to the covered sculpture, the main piece for her art show, which could easily give her away.

"What's under there?" Emma asked, eyeing the tall, protruding sculpture.

"A sculpture? For my art show?" Y/N replied as if it were obvious, giving Emma a look as though she had grown two heads. "Enough, Emma! Go!" She nodded, turning to leave, but before Y/N could stop her, Emma pulled off the sheet, revealing Y/N's masterpiece: Harry, wearing only a sheet.

“I knew it! You are a whore! How could you!”  She exclaimed as she laid eyes on the sculpture of her boyfriend. It was undoubtedly him. Y/N had meticulously crafted him from his toes up to the neck, deliberately omitting the head to avoid making it glaringly obvious. She also chose not to incorporate his tattoos, purely for the sake of aesthetics.

"Since when?!" Emma erupted, "you've always been jealous that I lead a fabulous life while yours is miserable!"

"Leave," Y/N asserted.

“You are a shitty friend and a fucking whore! I am going to ruin you, Y/N. Say goodbye to your career” was the last thing she said before she left. Y/N was left scared for the future as an artist. 

Harry had just finished training when he spotted her in the distance, struggling to walk on her heels as she trudged across the field.

"Is that your bird?" One of Harry's teammates inquired, catching sight of her. The men on the field halted their activities, diverting their attention toward her.

"Yeah. Just give me a second," Harry replied, jogging over to her. "What are you doing here?"

"You've been with Y/N," Emma blurted out instantly. "How could you? I've been nothing but a perfect girlfriend to you. I've done everything for you!"

"Perfect? Are we in the same relationship? We constantly fight. You're always nagging and making me do things I don't want, and if I don't, you just throw a fit," he calmly explained. "It's not healthy, and I'm tired of pretending that we're this perfect couple just so you can get your five minutes of fame."

"Five minutes of fame?! I always go to your games and stand beside you during your matches." Emma tried her best to start crying. She wanted to make him feel bad. She wanted him to beg for her forgiveness. However, Harry just wanted to leave her. He was defending his actions.

"You're just not a nice person, Emma. I don't want to be with you anymore. Clearly, we're incompatible. I'm sorry for cheating on you; I definitely shouldn't have done that to you, and I wish things weren't ending this way," he said, not wanting to waste any more time in a futile argument. Harry simply wanted to move on and remove her from his life. "I wish you the best."

The burden of secrets and the weight of a toxic relationship were lifted from Harry's shoulders as he finally came clean and ended things with Emma. He felt a newfound sense of freedom, but it wasn't long before the aftermath unfolded.

Emma, seeking revenge, exposed Harry's actions to the media, accusing him of cheating. However, Y/N's name was spared, thanks to legal advice. Harry was relieved that Y/N remained unaffected by the public storm.

Despite the personal turmoil, Harry faced professional consequences. His manager, publicist, and coach advised him to maintain distance from Y/N for a few weeks until the media frenzy subsided. The tabloids scrutinized his every move, dissecting his life beyond football.

The club, wanting to distance themselves from the scandal, enforced strict rules on Harry's public interactions. Although he disliked the restrictions, Harry complied to protect his contract. A month passed before the media found new topics, allowing Harry some breathing room.

As Y/N's art show approached, Harry, aware of the potential media circus, decided to wait until the event concluded before making his presence known. He couldn't risk overshadowing Y/N's success or jeopardizing her career.

Once the gallery cleared out, Harry entered discreetly. He observed Y/N from a distance, captivated by her beauty in a red cocktail dress, a vibrant contrast to the monochrome surroundings. Y/N was engrossed in a sculpture, and Harry couldn't believe his eyes—it was a detailed portrayal of him.

"He looks familiar," Harry remarked, his voice breaking the silence from behind her. Y/N turned, recognizing the unmistakable depth of his accent. "Who is he?" Harry's eyes widened in disbelief as he observed the sculpture, realizing it was a detailed and tasteful rendition of himself.

"That's the man I fell in love with, who tragically disappeared," Y/N explained with a hint of playfulness as Harry took a few steps closer, pressing his chest against her back. "Thinking of removing him from my collection. He didn't make a big splash," she joked, though the sculpture had already found a buyer.

"I doubt that," Y/N giggled, "I didn't know you were using me for your art. If I had, I would have hit the gym more vigorously."

"I wanted to capture you through my eyes and everyone else's. This is how you look from other people's perspectives," Y/N elucidated, "Perfect, actually."

Harry planted a soft kiss on the side of her neck, sending shivers through her body. She turned to face him, meeting the eyes of the man who had occupied her dreams and thoughts.

"I've missed you terribly," he confessed, a profound sense of love, understanding, and connection evident in his words. She had become an integral part of his life, consuming his thoughts and desires. Harry longed to be with her constantly, to be everything for her, just as she had become everything to him.

"It's good to see you," she smiled, a mixture of emotions in her eyes. Y/N had many questions, but on this special night, she didn't want to taint the atmosphere. "I thought you had forgotten about me."

"Never," Harry assured her, cupping her face and sealing their reunion with a kiss. The shared moment spoke volumes, an unspoken promise to navigate the complexities of their relationship together.

LET ME KNOW IF YOU LIKED IT!

[ipegchangbin]

changbin pegger i invite you to walk with me, come on take my hand, here’s a suspiciously perfect peach for you my love.

i’ve been having dreams and visions and hallucinations, a single face plaguing my every waking thought, a certain curly haired fiend (no no, not our usual small chunky furry friend) today i command a “bang chan” as they (kids these days) call him. in my dreams i am sitting at a bar all dark and cool and tall and beautiful and mysterious, as i am, and this enchanting little minx is just sitting there, all cute and pretty and fuckable, as he is, and i want him and he wants me but he’s shy u know :( the poor guy, he steals his glances and i just full on ogle, send a smirk his way here and there, but oh no he’s turning away now and he’s not smiling back, maybe i read him wrong maybe he- or not because he’s suddenly making his way over, conjuring up some confidence, okay my turn! i entertain him a little, we talk, i buy him a drink (it’s just coke, he says he doesn’t drink, he’s just here with friends, it’s okay i can work with that) maybe, maybe just maybe he’s staring at my lips too much by the time our drinks are gone and we’re all close and personal, and mayyybe we kiss and everything is beautiful, the sun sets as a double rainbow paints the sky and i can hear the laughter of a thousand pink dolphins

and then i take him to my penthouse (the club bathroom) AND I FREAK IT, I FREAK IT SO GOOD SO NICE SO SWEET, as i do, we both came so much all over his stomach and i have to set him on the counter to catch his breath and then i clean him up and leave first, and he never stops thinking about me, i intentionally did not give him my number, whatever i said about being dark and mysterious (and did i mention tall and beautiful?) and no dick will ever compare to mine

and then i wake up changbin pegger unfortunately 😣😣😣😣

side note: i realized writing this it’s probably my first time sending an ask in my years of tumblr history, i’ve never had anything to say but u enchant me changbin pegger they should make u president of the world

beloved fruitcakebin you have truly blessed me with your experience in the dreamworld and i cannot get enough of this (and thank you for the beautiful peach it mustve taken you far too many laps around your grandfathers land to find the perfect one)

🏷️ sub!bang chan, dom!gn!reader, public bathroom tipsy sex

i love the idea of discovering and befriending a meek channie while in a social event…there’s something so charming about a guy who doesn’t even want to drink alcoholics to let loose.

maybe you’re the vice he’s looking for.

so as you make your advances, inch closer and get the boy’s awkwardness riled up to a ten, he looks cuter when he’s flushed and flustered. as pink as the peach you offered to me — peach soda in his hands — and he’s drowning in both the fizzy sip and your sparkling gaze.

you’re eating him up with your eyes alone.

or maybe your lips, because before you both know it, the self-introductions turn into spontaneous kisses.

neither of you know how it happened, maybe it was the intimate distance and semi-privacy in a sea of drunk people, but

you invite him over to the restroom with you because “you need someone to guide you” or something of the sort: it doesn’t matter, he follows you anyway. you expect him to.

he’s a mindless dog at this point, only loyal to a person he just met.

he follows you into the stall without thinking at all and you’re grateful that nobody seems to notice, because his eyes are only set on you even if he’s sober yet drunk on your love.

realizing he’s right there in the stall with you, you say “fuck it” out loud and it gets his cock harder than it already was. you can tell how hot and heavy it is, straining against his pants as you pull the fabric down while crashing your lips against his plump ones again.

chan tastes the alcohol on your mouth but also the sweetness of lust and it spurs him on. he moans without a care in the world and he’s accidentally loud. when you break away from the kiss, he hungers for more, leaning in with a desperation that you have to chuckle at. you’ve never met one like him.

“y/n,” he mutters and you’re surprised he still remembers your name, “may i touch you?”

you smirk. “hmm, i wanted to touch you first.”

you cup his balls through his underwear and he whimpers like a hurt puppy, but there’s a need and satisfaction in his system that he can’t explain. it feels too good to be wrong but he lets your hand play with him, running your fingers up the shaft before squeezing his thick cock even if it’s so big and dumb that it barely fits your hand.

you jerk him while kissing him — more like biting his lips and leaving hickeys on surrounding sensitive skin — and he’s undressing you hurriedly, cupping your chest and reaching for your bottoms only to realize that he’s about to get fucked with the aggression escalating from your end.

you rub your crotch on his exposed cock and ride his lower body against the wall, grabbing him by the neck and calling him pathetic things.

“such a good boy. can’t believe you were so shy. do you want to be a slut or do you want to be my favorite toy?”

chan’s head spins and he can’t keep up, your hand digs into his neck while the other tugs on his hair as you keep going and going. your hips roll so well on his, his pelvis starts to shake from the sheer pleasure, your words and raspy post-tipsy voice takes him to heaven, you ride his shirt up to expose his toned stomach, and—

“y/n! fuck!”

he cums, screaming almost, shooting his own load all over himself while you spray your essence on his cock.

you lick up the hand marks on his neck, down to his heaving chest (and nipples), and lick his own cum off his abs. he’s so particularly savory with a sweet aftertaste that it might just addicting.

chan’s a shaking mess and he backs into the wall of the stall while you clean up his still-leaking cock with your tongue.

but it feels so good.

you don’t give him your number. you don’t do anything. you merely kiss him goodbye and all he has of you is your cum on his body, your alluring face ingrained in his mind, along with a dark and mysterious name that haunts him for what seems to be forever.

a week later, your stroll downtown makes you meet face-to-face with chan again, and he looks like a puppy that found its way back home.

“hi, y/n!” he smiles, as if he hadn’t just had a wet dream about you the night prior to your fated meeting.

thank you beloved fruitcakebin, ill think about this ask forever, you should start writing this (while i write dj!chan)

[k1ssable-k1nks]

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚Confessions˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

Confession #5

Fulfilling a request to confess my embarrassingly horny private thoughts. Thank you for listening to my depravity @old-med1c6

Tomorrow is the fourth of July and I want my sweet boyfriend to encourage me to dress trashy with a full face of makeup. I want him to pull my shorts and underwear to the side before pushing a vibrator into my cunt. I'd think we're just having some fun while we're seeing the fireworks but once we get to the car he pulls a knife on me. He forces my hands behind my back and cuffs them together. Then he puts a gag in my mouth and throws me in the trunk of our car.

He drives us over to where the firework showing is. I'm being tossed around in the back, vibed out of my mind, and totally confused about what's going on. He parks over by a bunch of partying cars. When he lets me out, I'm not free for long. Hands are all over me as they help him position me in the trunk with my ass in the air. I'm tied into place and, after a few snips of fabric, my ass is exposed and available.

I'd be sure I was going to get my ass fucked to oblivion and back but something small and hard entering my ass made me panic. A funnel? Why? Suddenly, something cold and fizzy began pouring into my ass. I shout at them to stop only to hear one beer can fall to the ground and another one gets opened.

As my insides are flooded with alcohol, some girls play with my clit and pull my shirt down to expose my tits. The end of my shirt is placed in my mouth and I'm told not to drop it. The girls then start to assault my pussy. I'm slowly getting more and more drunk. The shirt slips from my lips and I get a harsh smack from each of them on the ass before they put the shirt back and start again.

At some point, I end up over by the fire. I'm standing, bent over the fire. The only thing keeping me from falling is my arms being held back by the man fucking me so rough I fear I may fall in. The heat from the fire is hot and my tits are uncomfortably warm. I beg them not to let me fall while they take turns on me like that. Apparently, I'm so tight when I'm scared. Eventually, it turns into a full fuck fest. By the end of the night, I am covered in cum, writing, and whatever trash they could stuff in my cunt.

[mazeinthemiroh]

minty fever.

Genre: One-shot; Fluff and crack - the power duo 💪

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: mentions of being drunk, cursing, a very not so violent pillow fight at the end 😱

Requested?: Yes

Synopsis: It wasn't that often that you got to spend time with your boyfriend. But what happened even less was a heated argument with his friends - and who knew it would all be about mint chocolate ice cream?

A/N: This is super cute, if I do say so myself. Lazy days with San is literally all you need to have a good life tbh. HOWEVER I wanted to ask you guys - do you like mint chocolate ice cream? or are you on Hongjoong's and Seonghwa's side? Let me know because I am so neutral about this topic. I don't HATE it but it's definitely not the first ice cream I'd reach for. Anyways, I know it's an important debate for people, especially Ateez! We've all seen them bicker about this. We love our dramatic kings <3

"I could stay like this forever."

San rolled his head in an angle that captured you in his vision perfectly. There was a sparkle in his eyes, the one he always had when he looked at you. The sparkle of love. It sounded so cliche in your head but it was the only way to describe it. A fond smile stretched across his lips, showing off the beautiful dimple etched in the softness of his cheek.

"If only we had more time together," you mumbled, wandering over to the couch where he sat, his legs splayed out in a leisurely manner.

It was true. It was so hard finding time to do anything with your boyfriend. He's a celebrity, for crying out loud. You knew it would be difficult. He had a tight schedule, and between working late hours in the evening and waking up at unholy hours of the morning, it was hard to find time to see each other as often as you did. But San did find the time. You had no idea how he did, and you were more perplexed as to how he kept his enthusiasm. If you were on his schedule, you figured you wouldn't last a month.

But here San was, waltzing his way through life, one hour at a time. It was busy, sure. But he liked it that way. And in between the craziness of his career, he found you, a relaxing source of comfort and a person he could rely on with anything. What was there to be stressed about? His life seemed pretty damn perfect, from the way he was looking at it.

You curled up into his body, laying your head against his chest as his hand naturally placed itself on your waist. His smile only grew.

"I like the way things are," San commented in a low, content voice. "I know I'm busy and you're busy, but we make things work so well."

A firm kiss was placed on your forehead. You could feel the bristles of hair on his chin tickle your skin slightly; he hadn't shaved in a couple of days, which was rare. You embraced the tickle, the odd sensation feeling very comfortable.

"You're right, San." That's all you felt you could say as you sank deeper into his arms. You felt as if you could fall asleep there and then. Lazy days made you feel, well, lazy. San matched your energy too.

"I'm always right," he sighed as he closed his eyes, chuckling to himself, "like I was right about getting all those mint chocolate ice creams. I knew they would come in handy one day."

A while ago, when you were both drunk off your heads, you and your boyfriends decide to make a spontaneous trip to the corner shop right down the street. Bear in mind it's 1:16 am and you're both pissed. Supposedly, his genius idea to restock on mint chocolate ice cream came from this drunken night/morning, although neither of you could properly remember. It was all a bit of a daze, a fizzy memory that hadn't been forgotten but hadn't been solidified either. It was a precious memory, either way.

And so, the freezer had been filled with all these tubs of the same ice cream all this time. The other members were not impressed at all; it's not a surprise that taking up the dorms' freezer space would make some people mad. Today, on your lazy day, you both felt it was appropriate to consume these tubs of ice cream, to free the space and fill your stomachs with much joy.

"There's still a lot of tubs left," you giggled as you licked your lips, trying to get off any minty taste that would remain in the corners of your mouth.

"I don't think I can eat anymore, to be totally honest," San chuckled and groaned in the same breath, a hand flying to his stomach as he held it in slight discomfort. You looked at him with an eyebrow quirked up, knowing that in about 5 minutes he'd be back at it again, shoving the creamy mint ice cream down his throat once more.

"We're home~"

Hongjoong's sing-song voice sounded from behind the both of you, though there wasn't much of a reaction. You both hummed at the sound of his both but didn't bother turning your heads; it was too much effort.

"Don't get up," Hongjoong tutted as he saw you both on the couch, not moving. He heaved the heavy grocery bags on the kitchen counter.

"You guys okay?" Seonghwa's sweet tone came from behind you too as he made his way over to the couch.

"Yeah," San drawled out his words with a grin and closed his eyes, you following suit.

Seonghwa chuckled before heading to the kitchen where Hongjoong was. He couldn't possibly let him sort out the shopping himself. First of all, he didn't know where everything went. There was a designated place for all types of goods and Hongjoong was yet to learn that.

"No, the cereal goes in this cupboard," Seonghwa said gently, pointing to a higher cupboard while Hongjoong sighed.

"Do you want to sort this all out or are you going to get on my ass?" Hongjoong quirked a challenging eyebrow up at his friend.

Seonghwa just laughed at his feistiness, finding it endearing.

"No, you're doing great sweetie."

"Don't patronise me," Hongjoong growled in response.

"It's because you're small~"

"Shut up, San!"

You giggled at San, his eyes opening when hearing your approval of his joke. He liked adding a bit of chaos to the mix, especially with Seonghwa and Hongjoong's antics.

"They're like an old married couple," you whispered to San as he nodded in agreement, a low chuckle escaping his lips.

"I don't know what you two are laughing at," Hongjoong's voice was threatening, and while San thought of the consequences, you went completely unaffected by the captain's empty aggressions. You laughed even more when you saw the sudden alertness on your boyfriend's face.

Luckily, instead of threats, a quietness fell around the room, and only the quiet shuffling of Seonghwa and Hongjoong could be heard in the kitchen as they sorted out the groceries. You sighed and snuggled back down further into your sweet boyfriend's arms. All was well.

Until two synonymous gasps could be heard in the kitchen.

"What the hell is this??"

You and San lifted your heads, slowly, unsurely looking into each other's eyes. Both of you mirrored the same confused expression of the other as you each racked your brains, trying to figure out what the problem would be this time.

The pair in the kitchen stormed in, stomping both their feet on the carpeted floor. You both turned to face them to see what the fuss was about.

They held out in their hands two tubs of mint chocolate ice cream each.

"Why is there so much of this in the freezer? Are you trying to kill us?" Hongjoong placed the two tubs down on the side table with a twist of disgust on his face.

"There's no room in the freezer," Seonghwa sounded exasperated.

You held to hold back an eruption of laughter that bubbled inside of you.

"You guys are so dramatic."

"DRAMATIC??"

Your cheeky smile dropped once you realised the immense importance the mint chocolate ice cream seemed to hold. You scoffed and looked over to your boyfriend who held the same intense expression.

"Oh no, Y/N. This is a very important topic. It has been debated throughout generations on whether or not mint ice cream is good or bad!"

Well, if there was anyone you could count on for being as dramatic as the rest, it was San. He rose from his seat and took one of the tubs Hongjoong settled down on the side. He grasped the tub in his hands like it was forbidden treasure, gently and carefully as if not to break it.

"Legend has it that this ice cream is actually sacred, made by the gods themselves-"

"No that's a big-ass lie," Hongjoong retorted, "unless the gods sent this to earth as a form of punishment."

"You take that back!" Mingi emerged from literally nowhere, shocking you all. "Mint ice cream is delicious, you both just wanna be quirky and different."

"Yeah!" San wrapped an arm around his new supporter. You didn't realise ice cream was that deep for them.

That's when the bickering started. Your stare darted between the four of them as you watched them argue over the 'serious' controversies of food. To think these were full-grown adults.

You grabbed a pillow and calculated your next move, moving in between all of them and swiping around to hit every single one of them with the pillow in your hands.

"You wanna fight?" Seonghwa raised an eyebrow, leaning over to grab a pillow from the sofa. "Fine, let's fight!"

You wouldn't have placed Seonghwa, out of all of them, to start a fight. And you're right; he's not a violent guy. But if there was any fight Seonghwa wouldn't hesitate to be involved in, it was a pillow fight.

It felt like war, and you didn't know which side you were on. Hongjoong and Seonghwa were on one side of the room, pelting pillows at the mint ice cream lovers, San and Mingi, while you stood in the middle, quite neutral in your stance despite being the instigator of the chaos.

You observed the chaos you created and joined in. This whole day had been perfectly fun and lazy with your boyfriend, but this extreme activity topped it off. Like a cherry on top of ice cream, if you will. Chuckling loudly, you threw pillows left and right; you didn't care so long as they hit someone.

San came over to defend you with a big pillow he was using as a shield. You looked up at him and laughed uncontrollably.

You could stay like this forever.

[gamergirlbonestaskforce141riot]

85 for the OC game. Tipsy Riot is adorable!

85. Their S/O is tipsy. How do they handle it?

Lmao I love this

I hc Ghost has good alcohol resistance, would be just tipsy after more than five or six drinks. He's big and he isn't stupid, so he wouldn't drink on an empty stomach. Being drunk out of his mind is being vulnerable, so it's a no-no.

Slightly tipsy Simon is hilarious. Endless stupid jokes with that deadpan tone of his, snorting at himself. Ribbing Soap and Gaz, taking the piss out of Price (who indulges in it, seeing Simon so relaxed is a gift)

But tipsy TIPSY Simon is hilariously clingy.

"Hey Lt, you okay? You're gonna smother her, mate" Gaz couldn't help but laugh at a clingy Ghost, keeping Riot on his lap with his big arms around her, his face buried in the back of her neck, under her hair.

His only answer was a happy rumble that made her whole body shake, and Christine giggled.

"I think he's fine, Kyle"

"What if you need to go to the toilet, hen?" Johnny slurred, just as wasted. Christine shrugged, but before she could answer, a deep voice rose from beneath her hair

"Not going"

"Guess I'm not going" She sighed, shrugging, but yelped when Simon suddenly stood up, tossing her over his shoulder. "Simon, what the...?"

"Toilet"

"What!?"

*

Riot has a lower tolerance, so her max is two or threr drinks. She doesn't really drink alcohol, prefering fizzy drinks or juice.

Slightly tipsy Riot can go either the moody and silent path or the raging at anything. Three drinks in, she'll go along with whatever stupid shit Soap has concocted. Steal a RMP's vehicle? Hold my beer. Climb to the roof just because? Absolutely. Paint obscene graffitti on someone's door? She's in.

Christine 'I had one too many' Vega gets sappy and clingy with Simon (and he drinks up that shit). She never got to that extreme because she had to be the responsible one with Soap, but with the safety of Simon's arms? She can let go.

"So..."

Simon chuckled, highly amused with the pretty clingy thing on his lap, all bright blue eyes and relaxed smile, for once. Held safely in his arms, hidden away in a pub's booth while the others were having fun.

"So"

"You like me" She said it as a statement, not a question, and he nodded, brushing away a loose strand of hair from her face.

"I do. And you like me"

"Uh-huh" Christine nodded enthusiastically, giggling when he took the opportunity and kissed her, hidden by the shadows in the booth.

Smiling, she held up her hand, separating her thumb and index finger barely a couple of cm.

"You like me this much, then?"

Simon shook his head, his dark brown eyes staring into her blue irises fondly.

"Try again, beautiful. A lot more than that"

Christine snorted, pretending to be surprised, and widened the space between her fingers.

"Like this?"

He laughed and pulled her closer, pressing his forehead against hers, satisfied when he heard her purr.

"A lot more than that" He repeated, and smiled when she nuzzled his nose with hers. "And you?"

She didn't even take a second to think.

"I like you forever"

Simon chuckled, shaking his head, but that little nonsense made his heart both swell and ache painfully.

"I like you forever too, lovie"