#no mom I don’t wanna invite the guy who keeps pushing me against the wall and looking into my soul and trying to uncover my secret identity

[raytm]

[sweeterthanthis]

Your Filthy Heart

Part Three: The Pure and The Poison

Your Filthy Heart Masterlist

Thank you to @ozarkthedog for reading this through for me and to @msmarvelwrites for the support and some epic dirty talk suggestions!

Summary: It’s time to give Daddy a taste of his own medicine by bringing your boyfriend, Peter Parker, home for dinner.

Pairing: Stepdad!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader, Peter Parker x Female Reader

Warnings: Explicit sexual content, explicit language, daddy/stepdad kink, infidelity, vaginal sex, dirty talk, derogatory language, a touch of face slapping, cum play(?). 18+.

 Word Count: 3.5k

“I’m nervous, like really nervous. Is my tie straight?” 

There was a part of you that felt guilty for dragging Peter into your shit, truly. But you’d be lying if you said you weren’t enjoying his affections. 

He was handsome, a strong jawline, kind eyes, a boy next door kinda attitude. Peter was everything that Bucky wasn’t, and maybe a little part of you made the conscious decision to start dating him because he was so different.

You knew you were pushing your luck, but when the thought occurred to invite him home for dinner, your mouth engaged before your brain and you’d already asked. 

“It’s just dinner, Pete. You didn’t need to wear a tie at all.” You couldn’t help but smile at him as he fixed his hair in the rear mirror, but the pit of dread in your stomach was only growing more by the second. “Come on, Mom’s probably bouncing up and down in anticipation.”

“Your Stepdad’s gonna be home soon right? Fuck, I wanna make a good impression.” 

Placing a hand on his thigh, muscular and firm, you gave it a reassuring squeeze. He really was adorable, an underlying sexiness about him because he was so concerned with being the most decent guy he could be. And he didn’t deserve a single second of the torture you were about to put him through. 

Was that going to stop you? Absolutely not. 

You knew your mother would be too high on the buzz that you’d finally met a guy you’d deemed important enough to bring home for dinner. She wouldn’t notice the impending tension, of that you were sure. 

Stepping out of Peter’s car, your tummy flipping at the thought of Bucky coming home to find his spot in the garage taken, you readjusted your skirt and motioned at Peter to get out of the car with a roll of your eyes and a nod of your head. 

“Sorry, I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” He muttered, reaching for the bouquet of flowers he’d bought for your Mom in the back seat. 

Grabbing his hand, you tugged him towards the door connecting the house to your garage, you made your way to the kitchen -- the scent of pot roast, of course, filling the air and the sounds of gentle piano music playing softly in the background. 

Your Mom really had gone the whole hog to make a good impression, and you couldn’t blame her. She had no idea you were screwing her husband, feelings of possessiveness and bitterness growing with each passing day. 

She loved Peter. That much was very clear from the second she’d been introduced to him.  

You feigned interest as she sat across from him on the plush, cream sofa; asking him a thousand questions and not allowing him the airtime to answer a single one before she’d thought of another. 

But all you could think of was him. The look on his face when he saw Peter sitting next to you on the couch, the hand that was currently resting loosely on your knee, your Mother’s beaming smile as she informed him that we had a dinner guest. 

You revelled in the power you held — the power to drive him insane with jealousy. 

You zoned out as you helped your Mother set the table, the sound of her voice muffled in your ears when you heard the low rumble of a car engine pull up on the driveway; blood instantly pounding in your ears. 

“Oh, that’ll be James.” Your mother gushed, clasping her hands together and straightening out the cutlery on the way back to the kitchen. 

James. 

She always did like to abandon the nickname when she was trying to impress. You’d heard the name ring out in the night air on more than one occasion that week. And the thought made you sick. 

You held no claim over him. Not really. But that didn’t stop the rage from bubbling in your belly each and every time. 

“Hey, you okay? You look as nervous as I feel.” 

Peters hand resting on your lower back, his soft eyes looking down on you with gentle concern, you forced yourself to smile and nodded. 

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine. He can just be a little,” you paused, wringing your fingers together in front of you, “intense.” 

He wrapped his arm around your waist, tugging you into his side to give your body a reassuring squeeze — guilt thumping through your veins as you cursed yourself for dragging him into the mess you’d found yourself in. 

“Anyone wanna tell me who’s car is in my spot?” 

The sound of his voice, laced with irritation and curiosity, had your heart beating rapidly in your chest; the reality of what you’d done setting in as his footsteps drew nearer. 

“Hey, it’ll be fine. I’ll make a good impression, I promise.” 

Peter was too good for you, of that much you were certain. But you forced a smile anyway, leaning up on your tiptoes to meet his waiting kiss. 

At the worst possible moment. 

“What do we have here?” 

Exhaling a shaky breath, you composed yourself, opening your eyes to meet his fiery stare. There he stood in the living room doorway, rolling up the sleeves of his crisp, black button up. You couldn’t help but let your eyes wander to the way the veins in his hands flexed. 

Before you could speak, Peter stepped forward; holding his own hand out for Bucky to shake. 

“Mr Barnes, Sir, I’m Peter Parker. It’s nice to finally meet you.” 

All you could do was watch as Peter’s hand hung in the air, Bucky with his hands on his hips, leaning back on his heels slightly. The tension was evident, yet only you and he knew why — the weight of your entanglement heavy in the air. 

“Finally, huh?” 

Bucky caught your anxiety-ridden stare over Peter’s shoulder, chewing on the inside of his cheek; brow furrowed as he blew out a heavy breath through his nostrils. 

“Nice to meet you, Peter. I didn’t realise we’d be having a guest for dinner.” Bucky stepped forward then, forcing a smile and shaking Peter’s hand firmly with one hand, and planting the other firmly on his shoulder. “Would’ve come home earlier, but then nobody tells me anything in this house.” 

The intent to agitate Bucky was clearly paying off, but you never anticipated the way it would make you feel — stomach churning and headache inducing. 

With Peter in the room and your Mother hovering in the next room, you knew you were safe. Yet the thought of what he might do later that night after your Mother had passed out from necking too much Chardonnay had your tummy fluttering. 

“C’mon, Pete.” Bucky threw a smirk in your direction, throwing an arm around Peter’s shoulder and guiding him towards the kitchen. “Let’s go get a beer and leave the ladies to it, huh?”

Your mouth hung open in astonishment and your feet planted to the floor, all you could do was watch as your lover took your boyfriend aside for what you could only assume would be a desperately uncomfortable conversation. 

As you helped your Mother to prepare dinner, absentmindedly chopping tomatoes for the salad, you kept one eye on Bucky who was already sitting at the dining table across from a flustered Peter — and mentally kicked yourself for putting yourself in such a stressful situation. 

You tried not to look at him as you walked over to the table, salad bowl heavy in your trembling hands.

Walking around the back of his chair, you did your best to flash Peter a reassuring smile, his eyes flitting from yours to Bucky’s while he tried to keep his attention on the conversation. 

As you leant over to put the salad bowl on the table, a discreet, firm squeeze to your ass made you jump; his fingers digging into your flesh in not so subtle warning. 

“Oh!”

“Are you okay?” Peter asked, shooting a concerned look in your direction. 

Breathing a short sigh of relief when his hand withdrew, you straightened yourself out and walked around to your Boyfriends seat; blood hot with frustration at the way Bucky had put his hands on you in such a fragile situation. 

Suddenly, you simply didn’t give a fuck. 

How dare he try to lay a claim on you after everything you’d had to deal with; having to watch every day while he played at happy marriages with your mother. 

“I’m fine, Babe.” You leant down then, planting a gentle kiss on his cheek and shooting Bucky a warning stare. “I’m gonna go wash up for dinner, okay? Be right back.” 

Your anxiety was slowly morphing into vitriol, your hips swaying as you marched past your Stepfather’s unamused gaze. 

Fuck him. 

You washed your hands in the bathroom, gearing yourself up for what was sure to be a very awkward dinner — checking your makeup in the mirror, and fixing your hair. 

He’d riled you up, and now you had a point to prove. And you had every intention of doing so, one way or another. 

Making your way out of the bathroom, you straightened out your pleated skirt - the one you knew drove Bucky crazy - walking down the hallway with a confidence that you’d seemingly plucked out of nowhere. 

“What the-” 

One strong arm wrapped around your midsection, pulling your back tight against a broad chest -- and you needed no clue as to whom it belonged to. 

He yanked you through the door to the garage, shoving you forwards a little as the door clicked shut and the lock twisted. 

Everything inside you told you to give him a piece of your mind, spinning on your heel, your cheeks hot with disbelief. 

But as he stepped towards you, his eyes trained on your shaking form, you felt warmth flood your groin and you were putty once again. You hated how easily he reduced you to a desperate mess of a girl. Truly, you did. 

The fact remained, your Boyfriend was the other side of the wall and your Mother was floating around the house fussing like a woman possessed. 

“How dare—”

Bucky’s hand gripped your throat in warning, wedding ring digging against the supple flesh of your neck - the fire in his beautiful eyes causing your pussy to clench around nothing.

Shoved up against the passenger side of Peter’s car, you lifted your chin in defiance, a slight smirk gracing your glossy lips as you soaked in his fury. 

“You tryna piss Daddy off, Princess? ‘Cause you’re doin’ a real good job.” 

Your fingers dragged up your bare thighs, lifting your skirt up higher, his thigh pressed firmly against your lace covered cunt. 

“What’sa matter, Daddy? You jealous?” The low growl that emitted from his throat made you shudder, his breath warming your face as he tilted your chin up roughly with his fingers. “You not enjoying getting a taste of your own medicine, Daddy? Is that it?”

“You fuck that kid? Huh?” The hand around your throat squeezed, thumb pushing against your pulse point, his lips inches from yours. “You better answer me or I swear to fuckin’ God, girl...”

One hand palming at the throbbing erection in his trousers, the other gripping his own as it shook against your throat, you smiled. And he looked like he wanted to fucking murder you. 

“So what if I did? Seems fair to me. At least you don’t have to listen to me screaming his name. And Daddy, he makes me scream.” 

You ignored the fear bubbling in your chest, your bratty mouth unable to stop itself from running merry hell. 

“He’s so big, Daddy. Stretches me out so good.” Bucky pulled you towards him then, teeth clenched and jaw ticking, on the edge of losing every bit of control. And you just couldn’t help yourself. “You should see it.”

The dark chuckle that fell from his lips held no humor, his tongue pressed against the inside of his cheek and his head cocked to the side. 

“Is that what this is, Princess? Fuck, that jealousy’s just eatin’ you up, huh? Poor baby…” 

Your confidence waned for a moment, whimpering pathetically as his thumb traced your trembling jaw. You couldn’t stop yourself, hips winding down against his thick thigh, a twinkle in his eye as he watched you with a faux pout etched on his lips. 

“If you weren’t so fuckin’ cute, it’d be pathetic. Lookit you; grindin’ down on Daddy’s leg like a bitch in heat. What would Peter say, hmm?”  

Shame swam deep in your gut, but it was nothing compared to the warmth spreading between your legs, the damp patch on your panties staining the material of his suit pants.

“Daddy—” 

His fingers nestled between your lips, pressing down on your tongue as they slid down your throat - gag reflex kicking in when the tips of his fingers found your tonsils. 

“Suck.” 

You did as he asked, eyes boring into his as he thrust his fingers back and forth between your lips, garbled moans vibrating in your throat, spit coating the platinum band on his ring finger. 

“Why do I always gotta remind you who you belong to, huh?” You couldn’t answer, mouth stuffed full, tears pooling in your eyes, and spittle dripping from the corners of your mouth. “You think I was just gonna make nice with your little boyfriend in there? Bet he doesn’t know what a dirty little cockslut you really are does he?” 

A sharp tap to your cheek, spit slick against your skin, had you quivering. Yet your hands found the collar of his shirt, gripping it tightly and yanking him down towards you. Your lips crashed against his then, a satisfied grunt vibrating against your mouth, one hand gripping your ass while the other dove between your legs. 

Bucky held you tight against his chest, fingers dipping beneath the gusset of your panties and swiping through your sloppy folds as he walked you clumsily round to the hood of Peter’s car - lifting you effortlessly and setting you down, cool metal causing you to shudder from the chill. 

You watched as he yanked your panties down your legs, your heart pounding at the thought of your Mother and your Boyfriend next door, waiting for you to return.

“I can’t trust you to be a good girl, can I? Can’t trust you to keep those fuckin’ legs shut.” 

“Daddy, I-” 

“You’re gonna shut your fuckin’ mouth and take it, you got that Princess?” 

Before you could open your mouth to answer, he’d balled your damp panties in his fist and forced them between your lips — teeth clenching down onto the salty-sweet lace. 

It was humiliating, degrading; but when was it not? You craved it, the way he treated you. That feeling of being owned, completely surrendering yourself to another person. He made you need that.  

“Look at that, always so wet for Daddy.” 

His palms splayed out against the flesh of your thighs, he pushed them apart, spreading you open and putting you on display just for him. 

Your heart was racing, the thrill of being caught at any moment thumping adrenaline through your veins. He could sense it, lips twitching into a satisfied smirk as he watched your eyes flit frantically back and forth between him and the door. 

“D’you have any idea how much I wanna drag you back in there and fuck you on that table. Make them both watch, show them that you’re mine?”

Your moans muffled by the material stuffed between your teeth, two thick fingers stretching out your cunt as he unbuckled his pants — you shook your head. 

You knew you had an effect on him, you knew he couldn’t stop himself from touching you, from creeping into your room late at night. But the way he looked at you now, the burning intensity in his eyes; it shook you to your core. 

“If I had the time Princess, I’d eat that slutty little pussy right here. Make you gush all over Petey Boy’s car. He make you come as hard as Daddy does?” 

Frantically, you shook your head from side to side. Peter had never even so much as grabbed your ass, but you’d riled Bucky up to the point of insanity. A man on a mission to prove just who you belonged to. 

“No? You've sure changed your tune.” 

You watched as he pumped his thick cock in his palm, the tip of him nudging against your clit, your pussy twitching. 

“Daddy’s gonna fuck the attitude right outta you, so stay quiet and keep those legs open for me.” 

Your arms hooked beneath your knees, thighs spread wide, you barely had time to brace yourself before his cock split you open inch by inch. 

You’d expected him to rut into you with excruciating force, to take you roughly. So when he thrust into you with slow, patient strokes; you could do nothing to hide the curiosity on your face. 

“I know you know who fucks you the best. You just love riling Daddy up, don’t you? Get so - fuck - goddamn jealous of Mommy.” 

Your head lulled back as his dick dragged against the throbbing walls of your cunt, his thumb finding your clit while he caressed your breasts with his free hand. 

It was too much, too much tenderness, too good. 

You hated yourself for wanting it. The new sensation of his knuckles softly grazing the hollow of your throat as he undulated his hips against your pelvis, hitting spots inside of you you didn’t even know existed. 

“You know what you do to me, Baby? Look at me.” 

Baby. 

Bucky leant forward then, elbows either side of your head on the hood, balls deep inside you as he ground his hips into yours at a torturously slow pace. 

“I got you all spread open wide for me, and my fuckin’ wife is right next door. She could walk in here right now and fuck, I still wouldn’t stop. You know how fucked up that is?” 

It was nonsense, the broken words falling from your panty stuffed mouth, heat rising in your belly when he pulled out completely and slid on home once again. 

He fit you perfectly; there was no doubt about it. The way your cunt wrapped around his dick, it was fucking sinful how perfect it felt. Sparks of pleasure shooting through your core as he rubbed tiny, delicate circles over your swollen clit. 

“Tell me how much you want me.” Bucky ripped the panties from your mouth, shoving them in his pocket as you licked your dried out lips. “Need’ta hear you say it. Come on, Princess.” 

You’d never seen it before, the needy side of him, the way he practically whimpered when your pussy clenched around his girth, his hand gently squeezing your thigh while the other tentatively worked your sensitive nub. 

You tried to speak, tried to find the words he so desperately needed to hear — mouth hanging open in sheer confusion. 

“You’re not coming until you tell me, and we’ve been gone a while…” 

He halted inside you, only the tip of him nestled between your pussy lips, thumb hovering over your clit and a soft, yet entirely serious look gracing his gorgeous face. 

“I—I want you, Daddy.” You yielded, your voice barely above a whisper. 

Your hand flew to your mouth, muffling the yelp as he slammed back into you in one brutal motion — slowly withdrawing and circling your clit with the tip of his dick. 

“Again.”

“I want you, Daddy.” Insistent this time, no tremble in your voice, hips winding down towards his length, eager to have him back where he belonged. “Only want you, Daddy.” 

There was no hint of a lie in your tone, and as he fucked you - possessive and hungry - you wondered how any other man could ever match him. 

Sprawled out on the hood of Peter’s car, legs hooked over Bucky’s shoulders, you begged and panted; nearing closer and closer to sweet release. 

“You do, don’t you? You belong to me, Princess. Daddy’s all the man - shit - you need.” 

Garbled words choked in your throat, the breath punched from your lungs when he pinched your clit roughly with his fingertips, stars dancing behind your eyelids as pleasure twisted in your abdomen, limbs shaking and numb. 

Pathetic whispers of daddy, daddy, daddy had him slamming into you, unforgiving and merciless while he chased his own orgasm. 

“Fuck lookit you, fallin’ apart on poor Parker’s car, cunt full’a Daddy. Wanna fill you up so bad Princess, but I’ve got a better idea.”

You felt the hollow emptiness of his withdrawal, hazy eyes flickering open to catch sight of him; teeth bared, fist furiously pumping his cock, white, hot spurts of come smattering against the already sopping flesh of your swollen, fucked-out pussy lips. 

“Bucky! Darling, where are you?”

You panicked, hopping down off the hood and scrambling to push your skirt back down your aching thighs. 

“Fuck, gimme my underwear.” You hissed, holding out your hand as you bounced on your heels. 

“Nuh uh, Princess. You’re gonna sit there all night next to Peter, who seems like a real nice kid by the way, with my come all over you. Be real hard to forget who’s little cockwhore you are then, won’t it?”

You watched, dumb struck as he casually tucked himself back into his pants, swiping the wine bottle from the counter and making his way to the door. 

“Hurry now, we’ve kept our guest waiting long enough don’t you think?” 

With a wink and a sardonic smirk, Bucky disappeared through the door, your Mom’s soft laughter ringing in your ears through the wood. 

Dinner was surprisingly a lot less awkward than you expected, aside from the jabs from Bucky thrown in your direction every now and again. But you’d much rather he targeted you than Peter. 

Sitting with Bucky’s come smothered between your thighs made the guilt in your gut throb every time Peter’s soft fingers found the bare flesh of your knee beneath the table. 

No matter how much water you chugged, your mouth was dry throughout, your instincts driving you to get through the meal without choking and needing to excuse yourself.

As the evening drew to a close, your Mother tipsy and insisting that Peter come back to visit again the following week, you couldn’t wait to get him out of there and wipe away the mess from between your legs. 

“Parker, you ever play golf?” Bucky asked as Peter pulled on his jacket. 

You couldn’t believe the audacity of him, shame and fury eating at you as he played the perfect, welcoming parent.

“Uh, a little from time to time.” He answered, looking down at you with a proud smile as he sensed an invitation coming. It killed you, the sweetness on his features. You didn’t deserve an ounce of it. 

“I’ll get your address from our girl, huh? Pick you up Saturday, say, just after lunch?” 

Our girl. 

It made you cringe, chewing on your bottom lip as you took hold of Peter’s hand and led him to the garage where you’d been full of your Stepdad’s cock just an hour earlier. 

“Yes, that’d be great Mr Barnes. Thank you!” 

“Please, call me Bucky.” 

You couldn’t stand it any longer, making your way to the garage while Peter trailed behind you saying his goodbye’s.

He kissed you softly, and it made you want to weep—the way his hands cupped your cheeks, his thumbs stroking against the corners of your mouth. When he pulled away, the look of adoration on his face had your heart skipping a beat. 

This was what you needed.

This relationship was healthy. Safe. Right. 

So why did it feel so wrong? 

What you had with Bucky could never go anywhere, would never progress to more than secretive fucks and risky situations. 

“Your Stepdad seems like a decent guy, but he’s really hard on you huh?” 

“You have no idea.” 

[lucifer-is-a-bag-of-dicks]

Grabbing Smoke

As much time as Sam spent with her best friends, sometimes she enjoyed a little bit of time alone.

Tucker was helping his mother bake cookies for some kind of fundraiser for the hospital, and Danny was busy visiting Pandora for fighting lessons. Apparently they were using swords today.

As fun as it sounded, Sam opted to stay behind, it had been a while since she'd been down to the park to feed the ducks. She didn't get quiet moments like that very often any more.

There was an uncharacteristic skip to her gait as she walked to the park, a canvas tote bag swinging from her arm.

Living in Amity Park, and especially hanging around with Danny, gave her an eerie sense to when something was amiss. Nothing quite like Danny's ghost sense, but she'd learned to detect a particular chill to the air, a prickling at the back of her neck. It could easily be mistaken for a chilly breeze, but Sam knew better. The crunch of gravel under Sam's boots was the only sound permeating the still air, not even the trees were rustling.

She continued her walk through the park, past the wishing fountain and through a trail where the trees grew slightly more dense.

The trail opened up to a large pond, it wasn't anything especially picturesque, the reeds were a little overgrown, the ground was muddy, but there were a few simple weather worn benches by the path that looped around the water.

Sam took a seat, pulling out a bag of frozen peas. She opened it, tipped a few into her hand and tossed them into the water.

The ducks immediately sped across the pond toward her, fighting for the peas that the turtles hadn't already gotten to.

Instead of grabbing another handful, she held the bag out to the empty seat to her left, waiting for a moment before shaking the bag impatiently.

A green hand slipped into the bag, pulling out a handful of peas before tossing them into the water.

"How'd you know I was here?" Kitty asked, now sitting visibly on the other end of the bench as Sam poured out more peas for both of them.

"I have my ways." Sam smirked. "What I want to know is why you've been following me all week."

"You knew for that long and you didn't say nothin'?" Kitty huffed. "Damn, I gotta up my game."

A duck waddled up and nibbled on her boot.

"Alright alright, ya hungry little doofus." Kitty lowered a hand full of peas and cooed as the duck happily ate from her palm. "Aww these guys aren't shy at all, do you come here a lot?"

"When I can." Sam tossed a few more peas into the water for the turtles. "So why are you following me?"

Kitty sat back and pressed her lips together, thinking.

"Look it's just... I don't remember much from when I was livin', you know? It's all sorta grey and fuzzy, I can't remember what anyone looked like, except Johnny." she tossed some peas to a smaller duck at the back of the group. "But as soon as I showed up here in town and I saw your face, I thought I felt... I dunno, somethin'. Like I'd seen you before, or maybe you just reminded me of someone, but I can't remember who, it's like grabbing smoke."

She lobbed a few peas a little harder than was necessary at the water. The turtles sucked them up greedily.

"So you've just been following me hoping you might remember something else?" Sam asked.

"Yeah," Kitty sighed. "But it's not working."

Sam swung her foot idly between a pair of scuffling ducks, splitting them up before tossing out some more peas.

"Maybe I'm related to someone you knew. Where did you grow up?"

Kitty frowned down at the water.

"I... I don't know." she said, deflating somewhat. "I didn't even realise I forgot that."

Sam couldn't help but feel for her, Danny had told her that ghosts would often forget things from their past, especially once they'd been dead for longer than they'd been alive. Somehow she had never really considered how terrifying that must be.

"You know..." Sam started carefully. "I could show you some old family photos. Maybe you'll recognise someone?"

Kitty looked up, eyes shining brightly.

"Really? You'd do that for me?"

"Why not?" Sam shrugged. "If you were here to cause trouble you would have done it by now."

"Aw, I never thought you'd wanna do something like that for me." said Kitty, smiling brightly. "You always seemed like such a bitch."

Sam laughed.

"If you'd spent a week being someone that wasn't Paulina, I would probably have seemed like less of a bitch."

"So you guys are big rivals or somethin'?" Kitty asked, grabbing some more peas and giggling as three ducks tried to eat from her hand at once.

"It's more that we have... conflicting ideologies. She thinks that appearances and reputation are the most important things in life, just like my parents." Sam lobbed some more peas into the water, they both watched them disappear as the turtles quickly snapped them up. "It's shallow and stupid, and I don't get why they have to push that shit on everyone. I don't care what people think, I just want to be whoever the hell I wanna be without having to fight for it all the time."

Kitty's face turned contemplative as she tapped her nails on the back of the bench.

"I think... I was like that." she said, slowly. "I wanted to feel fun and exciting, but my parents..."

She trailed off, frowning.

"My parents... I didn't like them. They didn't like me bein' the way I was, I can't really remember why."

Sam emptied out the last of the peas and scattered them over the ground, she scrunched up the empty packet and shoved it back into her tote bag.

"You know, if we went to school together we would probably have gotten along." said Sam as she stood up, gesturing toward the path. "Let's go check out those photos."

Instead of floating invisibly behind, Kitty walked by Sam's side as they headed back to her house. She idly waved at people as they drove past, grinning when someone stared a little too long and almost ran a red light.

"You know, it's nice bein' able to walk around in the day." Kitty said, skipping a little. "Wish I could do it more often."

"What's stopping you?"

"What do you think?" Kitty's lip pulled up in disgust. "Any time I show up your dumb friend sucks me up in his stupid thermos. Only reason I can walk around right now is because I got you as my get out of jail free card."

"Danny doesn't care if you just want to walk around." Sam scoffed. "He lets ghosts wander around town all the time, he only gets involved when you start breaking things."

"Uggghhh but just walking around is so boring." Kitty pouted. "I mean yeah it's nice and I like it but it gets old real quick."

"Then you'll have to get used to getting tossed back in the ghost zone. Do not pass go, do not collect $200."

"Don't you ever get sick of his goody goody attitude?" Kitty asked. "I mean you and I aren't so different right? You're all about the rebel gig, don't you ever feel like keyin' some asshole's car, or takin' a baseball bat to some mail boxes?"

"Only if they deserve it." said Sam with a smirk. "But I feel like you aren't especially picky about whose stuff you're breaking."

They approached the door to the Manson mansion, Sam hopped up the steps and stuck the key in the lock. She touched the mezuzah on the doorpost without a second thought before opening the door and standing aside to invite Kitty in.

The ghost stared up at her warily.

"I can't get past it."

"Past what?" Sam asked.

"The mezuzah, it keeps me out."

"What?" Sam frowned. "It hasn't stopped other ghosts from getting in."

"Well it stops me." Kitty insisted. "I think it's got somethin' to do with what we believed in when we were alive. I haven't got a problem with churches but when Johnny tried to ride his bike through one he couldn't get in. His mom raised him Catholic, he says he doesn't believe in any of that stuff, but I think he still does, deep down."

"So does that mean you were Jewish?" Sam asked, smiling curiously.

"I AM Jewish." Kitty crossed her arms. "Bein' a ghost hasn't changed that, it just... means that we got a few things a little wrong."

Sam thought about that for a moment, before stepping aside and gesturing toward the door again.

"Well, if you've been invited and you're not going to cause any trouble, then I don't see why you shouldn't be able to come in."

Kitty climbed the steps slowly, fingers reaching out and cautiously brushing over the mezuzah, she didn't feel anything unusual, no zap or burn or pain. She took a step through the doorway and passed the threshold without issue, no invisible force or barrier like the last time she tried to follow Sam inside.

"Well, what do you know." she said, grinning.

Sam lead her into a large, open planned kitchen and dining area, the tiles were bright white save for the specks of mud Sam's boots tracked through the room. The decor was minimalist, the atmosphere bland and sterile, she could smell some kind of citrus surface cleaner.

The back wall was all windows, leading to a patio surrounded by perfectly trimmed grass. As they approached, Sam turned, heading towards a door to their right.

The next room felt a lot more friendly, it was full of bookshelves and red tones. The lounges looked soft and inviting, a fireplace sat cold and empty against the back wall, but Kitty didn't have to try hard to imagine it roaring to life, filling the room with its warm glow.

"This is basically my Grandma's part of the house." Sam informed her, voice low. "Her bedroom is just through there, she's usually napping around this time of day so try not to make too much noise."

Kitty slipped off her jacket and laid it over the back of the lounge, already feeling at home in the cosy little room. She looked over the books as Sam fussed around some kind of large ornate chest.

"Here it is." She hefted a large photo album from the chest, carefully closing and latching it again. "Let's see if you recognise anyone in here."

Kitty sat down beside Sam as she opened up the pristine book, the outer cover was beige with the name Manson inscribed in golden cursive on the front. The first page was full of old faded photos, in greyscale or sepia tones.

"Ugh, I'm not that old." said Kitty, flicking ahead a few pages.

The pictures were colourful now, but still grainy, there was a young blonde boy in seventies style jeans leaning casually against a Chevrolet.

"Wait hold up," Kitty pointed at the boy. "Him, I feel like I've seen him before."

"That's my dad." said Sam, surprised. "His name is Jeremy, did you know him?"

Kitty hummed a little, gently tracing a finger over the picture.

"Jeremy... Jeremy, I'm not sure," she frowned. "But he definitely looks familiar."

They continued through the book, when suddenly Kitty slapped her hand down roughly on a photo of a pair of young women.

"Her! I know her! She was a mega bitch!"

"Shhh keep it down." Sam hissed.

"Sorry," Kitty pointed to the blonde girl in the photo. "That one! I don't know how I knew her, but I definitely knew her. She was a total brat."

Sam slipped the photo out of its sleeve and read the neat cursive on the back.

"This is... my Aunt Caroline, in 1985. She's my dad's sister." Sam looked up at Kitty, amused. "I can't believe you had beef with my family."

"Your family are snobs." Kitty sniffed. "Carrie was such a ditz, she thought she was sooo bitchin' because her daddy bought her a Mercedes."

"Yeah, that sounds about right." Sam grimaced. "Did you guys go to school together or something?"

"Maybe..." Kitty took the photo from Sam's hand, staring intently. "I'm pretty sure I skipped school a lot, I hated it there. It was a private school, we had to wear uniforms, barf."

"I would never have guessed you were a private school kid." Sam shook her head. "But most people would say that about me so it's not like I can judge."

"You went to private school?" Kitty asked, "How'd you end up in that Casper High dump?"

"Got myself expelled." said Sam, voice thick with pride. "Elementary, middle and high school, got kicked out of all three."

"Damn, you're good."

Sam grinned, slipping the photo back in its sleeve and continuing to the next page.

Kitty pointed to a few other photos, remarking on their familiarity, but not quite able to grasp how she knew them, the memories only flickered in her periphery.

"Wait," Kitty whispered, fingers brushing over a polaroid containing three people. "This is..."

The picture looked as though it were taken at some kind of party, a man and a woman faced the camera, each with a glass of champagne raised in their hands. The woman's other hand rested on the shoulder of a teenage girl with auburn hair, pulled into a tidy braid. She stared glumly at the camera.

"That's Katherine." Sam said, pointing to the girl. "She was my dad's cousin, but she got hit by a car when she was-"

Sam paused, looking over at Kitty's wide eyes and then back to the photo.

"Noooo way." Sam pulled the photo out of the sleeve. "Is this you?"

Kitty took the photo in trembling hands.

"I... I forgot I used to look like that." she fiddled with a lock of her green, teased hair. "I remember this party, I didn't want to go but mom and dad threatened to take away all my records and cassettes if I didn't."

Sam stared at Kitty, mouth agape.

"You're Car Crash Katherine?! My dad talks about you all the time! He always told me about the shit you used to get up to, he'd tell me that any kind of 'rebellious behaviour' was a slippery slope to 'dying on the back of some delinquent's motorcycle'." Sam put a hand on Kitty's shoulder. "You were my bad influence role model."

Kitty's red eyes shone with tears, photo still in hand, she wrapped her arms around Sam.

"This is majorly wicked! My legacy lives on! Corrupting the youth from beyond the grave!" Kitty laughed. "My parents would go totally mental."

She stopped laughing, her face turning forlorn as she drew back from Sam and stared down at the picture.

"Are they still alive?" she asked, a tremble in her voice.

"Yeah..." said Sam. "They live in a retirement home in Florida. They don't come around very often."

Kitty traced a finger over their faces.

"I wonder if they miss me." she said quietly. "Or if they were glad to be rid of the family embarrassment."

Sam didn't answer, she had wondered the same thing herself, if her parents would even care if she died. They hadn't given her a lot of reason to think they would.

She rested a sympathetic hand on Kitty's arm.

"Oh, you have a friend over bubbeleh?" a croaky voice spoke from the bedroom doorway.

Sam and Kitty both turned to see Ida Manson shuffling into the room, cleaning her glasses with her sleeve.

"Sorry Grandma, we didn't mean to be too loud." Sam apologised. "This is my... um, friend, Kitty. Kitty this is my Grandma Ida-"

"Ida?!" Kitty shot to her feet, staring in shock at the old woman. "Aunt Ida?!"

Ida squinted at Kitty, before quickly setting her glasses back on her face.

"Well as I live and breath, is that you Kathy?"

"Oh my god this is getting super weird." Sam whispered.

Kitty leapt over the ottoman to wrap Ida up in a tight hug, the old woman was surprised for a moment, but held her warmly in return.

"It's me Aunt Ida! Not really living or breathing but it's me!" Kitty laughed breathlessly.

"Oh my goodness, when all the ghosts started showing up all over town I wondered if I would ever see someone I knew." She rubbed comforting circles on Kitty's back as the ghost choked on a few sobs. "It's good to see you again Kathy."

Ida pulled away and wiped a tear from Kitty's face.

"And I'm so glad you aren't stuck wearing what your parents buried you in."

Kitty couldn't help but laugh through her tears.

"Let me guess, it was that putrid blue dress, wasn't it?"

"The dress wasn't nearly as bad as what they did to your hair." Ida snickered, patting Kitty's hand. "It had little ribbons in it and everything."

"I almost forgot you." Kitty placed her palm gently against Ida's face. "You were the only one in the family who ever loved me for being me, and I almost forgot you. I'm so sorry, I should have come to find you sooner but I just-"

"Shhhh, it's okay bubbeleh." Ida grasped her hand tight. "I think being dead is a pretty good excuse for forgetting a few things."

Sam stood beside the lounge, watching the two in shock, she wasn't entirely certain whether or not to intrude. Whatever she had been expecting to discover with Kitty today, it certainly hadn't been this.

Though in hindsight, it did explain Kitty's familiarity with Sam, people always said she had taken after her Grandma.

Ida let go of Kitty and hobbled over to the photo album still sitting on the lounge.

"Oh you don't want to look at that album." she said, as she shoved it onto the coffee table. She wandered to the other side of the room and began rummaging around in a small cupboard. "You want this one."

She pulled out a book with well worn, peeling edges. Pieces of the plastic sleeves had cracked off and crumbled away. It was old, and weatherbeaten, it was obvious that Ida had looked through it many many times.

"Here we go." she sat down in the middle of the lounge, gesturing for the two girls to come sit beside her. "These are the forbidden photos."

She opened the pages, the photos inside were entirely different from the 'official' album, there were no perfectly poised, prim and proper photos of people in nice, presentable clothes. They were all candid shots, people in the middle of eating or laughing, some were stumbling around blind drunk, a few were smoking joints. There were pictures from parties and protest rallies, in backyards and drive ins.

There was a picture of Jeremy as a young boy, grinning with one of his front teeth missing and grass in his hair.

"Only in this family would losing your baby teeth make a photo 'unsavoury'." Ida grizzled as she continued through the album. "I saved so many pictures that my husband would have thrown out otherwise."

"Ugh, Uncle Peter was such a prude, he wouldn't even let me in the house if I didn't have my shoulders covered up." Kitty rolled her eyes.

"He used to be so much more relaxed when we were young." Ida sighed. "He changed when he inherited his father's business, he forgot how to have fun."

A few pages later Kitty squealed in excitement.

"Oh my god! That's Frankie! She was my best friend, we used to do everything together!"

The Kitty in the photo looked far more like the Kitty Sam knew. Her hair was teased up, and she was wearing a crop top and a miniskirt. The other girl, Frankie, had short curled hair and a leather jacket. They each had an arm around the others' shoulder and grinned wildly.

"I love this one." Ida smiled as she pulled the picture out of the sleeve. "That was the night I gave you a lift to that concert."

"Oh that show was sooo good! I got my nose pierced there! It got so infected, Mom grounded me for a month." Kitty laughed.

"Man, and I thought I was cool for skipping school to go see Circus Gothica." Sam grinned. "I'm gonna have to come home with a tattoo next time."

"I can't believe I forgot about Frankie, I can't believe I forgot about all of this." Kitty held the photo close to her chest, a few tears running down her face. "I'm so glad it's not gone for good."

She kept the photo in hand as they looked through the rest of the album. There were many pictures of Ida, all of them with other people of all walks of life.

"Oh this was when you took us to that pride parade!" Kitty smiled. "You made Frankie so happy, and you knew a lot of the drag queens there, like a LOT."

"Grandma took me to a drag show when I was 10," said Sam. "Even took me backstage to meet them all, my parents thought we went to the theatre to see Romeo and Juliet."

"Oh I have photos from that." Ida flipped through the pages, getting closer to the end of the album. "Here we are, oh Evelyn just LOVED you."

Sam looked at the picture of Evelyn, frowning slightly.

"Oh weird, she kinda looks like Mr Lancer's sister, he keeps her photo on his desk..." Sam paused as she processed what she just said. "That's not his sister is it?"

"You probably shouldn't bring it up." said Ida gently. "Teachers can get in trouble for associating with this sort of thing."

"That's so bogus!" Kitty cried. "I really thought this kinda stuff would be better in the future!"

"It is," Ida assured her. "But we're a long way from perfect."

Ida flipped back through the album, searching for more pictures of Kitty and Frankie. There were a good few of them, each one Ida pulled out and passed over for Kitty to look at and hold onto.

"Oh woah, is that Johnny?" Sam pointed to a picture of Kitty sitting on the back of a motorcycle with a blonde boy. "He looks exactly the same, just a little less pale."

"Oh, did Johnny come back as a ghost too?" Ida asked.

"Yeah! We've been together all this time, in sickness and in death." Kitty beamed. "Mom and dad blamed him for everything I did, even if he wasn't around when I did it. They said him and Frankie were 'corrupting' me."

She rolled her eyes.

"I bet they blamed him for my death too. They'd be so mad if they knew we were still together."

"Just goes to show they had no chance of keeping you two apart." Ida said. "Not even death could do that."

Kitty held the photo tight in both hands, her shoulders began to shake slightly.

"It was my fault you know." she said with a trembling little giggle. "Funny huh? My parents always blamed him for everything, but in the end it was my fault we got hit. We were havin' a fight over somethin' stupid and I distracted him-"

Ida wrapped an arm around Kitty, patting her head comfortingly as she laid it against the old woman's shoulder.

"I think you're being too hard on yourself bubbeleh." Ida whispered gently into her hair. "It was raining, the truck that hit you was running a red light, the driver was charged for both your deaths. Even if you did distract him, you weren't the only card at play that night."

She gave Kitty a light shake.

"And don't think I didn't see the way Johnny used to drive that thing, he was reckless. I have no doubt that he wasn't paying as much attention as he should have been." She placed a kiss on the girl's forehead and squeezed her tight. "It's not fair to hold all of that responsibility on yourself, even if you both did everything right, that truck still would have run that red light, it still would have been raining. It was just pure rotten luck."

Sam had never heard a ghost talk about their death before, even Danny didn't like talking about his accident, and asking about it was incredibly taboo. Sam had been pushing her luck earlier just by mentioning the car crash.

It said a lot about Kitty's love for Ida that she chose to open up about it. Sam couldn't say she was surprised, her Grandma had always been like that. Never anything but an endless well of love and support, and the occasional kick in the pants if you needed it.

"Johnny's always had rotten luck." Kitty sniffed. "Follows him like a shadow."

"Literally." Sam snorted.

After a few more moments, Ida pulled herself away from Kitty, she got up and began rooting through the cupboards, muttering to herself.

"Aha, here it is."

She brought over an empty photo album, it was roughly the size of a small pocketbook, containing only one photo sleeve per page.

"I meant to fill this with photos for Sam to keep." Ida admitted as she shuffled back over to the girls. "But I don't think she'll mind donating it to a good cause."

She winked at Sam, who nodded back.

"Here," Ida pressed the little album into Kitty's hands. "Memories are a fickle thing, but photos are forever."

"I can't take these!" Kitty insisted, pushing the album back. "They're your memories too!"

"Oh my god you're both so old." Sam laughed, "Dad has a printer/scanner. I can make copies."

As Sam took the polaroids to her dad's office, Ida and Kitty pored over the rest of the album, Kitty picking out more photos to copy. She chose a few of Ida and Sam, and even one of Carrie.

"She was a total loser and I hated her but I don't hate remembering her, you know? I want to remember everything, even the bad stuff."

She took a photo of her parents, just one.

When Sam came back with the last batch of photos, Ida finished slipping them into the little album.

"There's still a few sleeves left." Sam pointed out, holding up her phone with a smile. "We've got room for a couple of family reunion pics."

The two girls squished up against Ida as Sam snapped as many shots as she could. Ones where they smiled, ones where they laughed, ones where they laid haphazardly across the lounge together.

Then Sam took a few candids of just Kitty and Ida, as they looked through the new album they'd just made together. Capturing Kitty laughing at something as Ida looked at her with a soft, loving smile.

Kitty clutched the album to her chest as she gave Ida a long, drawn out hug.

"Thank you so much." she said, her voice thick with gratitude. "It's like I can see my life in colour again."

She left the house with the assurance that she would always be welcome back, at any time, and a promise that she would always be looking out for her 'new favourite cousin'.

Sam flicked through the photos she took on her phone, she would have to make sure to have copies printed by the time Kitty returned to visit.

She knew Kitty coming over regularly was going to make things complicated, her apparent newfound protectiveness over Sam could potentially backfire in many spectacular ways, she was petty and troublesome when in the right mood.

But then again, so was Ida, and so was Sam.

At least she had better things to do now than beat up strangers' mail boxes, Danny was certainly going to be glad to hear that.

[outerbankies]

new light part 4: underneath the moonlight — rafe cameron

new light series masterlist

summary: you and rafe meet the parents (properly) and go to midsummers together, but not everyone is as smitten with your relationship as you two are.

pairing: rafe x kook reader

warnings: drinking, swearing

a/n: say hello to a few characters (tw: ward) i have had yet to feature thus far 🤗 more of y/n being besties with kelce (and topper this time—our fave obx himbo) there’s a lil drama in this part y’all... into the thick of it. thanks for all the feedback 💖not canon rafe

my writing

yeah if you give me just one night, to meet you underneath the moonlight

You’re startled awake by a loud knock on your bedroom door. You’re squished between 6 feet and 3 inches worth of boy and the pink wall your bed is pushed up against. Rafe always insisted on laying on your outer side, closest to the door of your bedroom. Which means you often woke up pressed into the wall, your neck sometimes aching from the awkward angle. Not to mention Wilbur always taking up the space at your feet, Rafe usually nudging him into your space so he could stretch out.

Rafe stirs also, making sleepy noises and stretching his legs where they hang off the end of your bed. He grumbles and smacks his lips together a few times, your hand instinctively coming to rub along his jaw. His eyes flutter open as the sun streams in through your window, illuminating the hint of golden stubble on his chin. You’d only slept over together a few times, since you were both staying with your parents for the summer, so it’s always nice to wake up with your boy in your bed.

Oh fuck. Your boy is in your bed.

Rafe's eyes widen at the same time as yours.

“Oh shit, we fell asleep?” he whispers, head whipping around your room.

“Fuck, you have to hide right now,” you whisper, stumbling through your thoughts sleepily.

Another knock sounds from the door.

You extract yourself from your spot between Rafe and the wall, his hands guiding you by your hips as you tumble over him.

“Just, fuck, just like—get under the covers or something. God, I hope it’s not my dad,” you whisper.

“Me too,” he says, slinking into the gap between your bed and the wall as best he can, covering his face with a pillow.

You check that he’s concealed enough, turning to open the door just the slightest bit. Dylan stands in the crack.

“We have brunch at the Club in an hour, mom wanted me to ask if you invited Rafe,” he peers around you, gaze moving to behind your shoulder. “Or I could just ask him myself. Sup, Rafe?”

“Shut the fuck up, Dyl,” you whisper-shout. “Where are mom and dad? Can he sneak out the back? And don’t lie to me, or I’ll tell them about Hilton Head.”

“God, calm down. Dad’s in the garage and mom’s getting ready. Just have him go now.”

“Thanks,” you say, all but slamming the door in his face. You turn around and press your back against the door, letting out a shaky breath.

The covers rustle, and Rafe springs out of your bed to gather his things while Wilbur watches him. He always starts pouting when he notices that Rafe is putting on his hat or shoes, signs that he’s about to leave.

“We are so dead.”

“You don’t think he’ll say anything, do you? I don’t think I can sit at brunch with your dad in an hour if he knows I slept in your bed last night.”

“Not if he’s smart,” you sigh. “Want me to walk you out?”

“No, I got it. Just keep Willy in here. I’ll text you when I make it out alive. If you don’t hear from me, just assume your father murdered me,” he jokes, leaning down to give you a kiss after he slips his shoes on. “See you back here in an hour?”

“Yes, please be early. And clean shaven.”

“Yes ma’am. And don’t insult me,” he mumbles against your lips.

“Nervous?”

“Not nearly as nervous as I will be if I get caught, sweetheart. Gotta go so I have time to shower—and shave. See you in a bit.”

He gives you one last kiss before he departs, and you move to the window with Wilbur to watch him slink across the backyard, arms crossed and a fond grin on your face. He turns and blows you one last kiss before he disappears around the side of your house.

—

“Y/n, can I speak to you for a second?”

Your dad’s voice comes from his study as you pass by, checking yourself over in the entryway mirror one more time. Rafe should be here any minute.

“Yeah, what’s up?”

“Come sit,” he says, gesturing to one of the chairs in front of his desk. You feel the hair stand up on the back of your neck. Your dad only invited you to talk in his study if it was something serious. The last time he did was when he told you he was going to take away your Range Rover if you didn’t pull your Bs up to As your freshman year of college. You’ve had a 4.0 ever since.

“Is everything alright?”

“Yes, everything’s fine. Just wanted to talk about the new boyfriend.”

“What about him?”

“I always knew of him while the two of you were growing up. But I talked to him a bit back during Dylan’s grad week.”

As an unruly teenager and the rightful heir to his father's business, everyone in the Outer Banks knew about Rafe and his antics. Good or bad. You could even recall your mom gossiping to your dad, words passed on from Rose, about some of his more... notable incidences.

“Y-yeah, he's...” you trail off, searching for the right words to describe Rafe these days.

“Seems like a good kid,” your dad supplies.

“What did you guys talk about?”

“Business, mostly. His future and whatnot.”

“Is that what you wanted to talk to me about?”

“No, I just wonder... are you sure about this one? When you were kids, that boy was always causing trouble. And you know your mother and I were always so proud of how you stayed in line.”

“I know,” you sigh. “But Rafe’s not a boy anymore. Just give him a chance.”

“I will,” your dad says, slapping his knees to stand up. “But I'm also gonna give him a hard time.”

“Dad, please.”

“It’s my job. Your mom gets to freak out about Dylan moving out, and I get to handle scaring every man who gets to look at you.”

The doorbell rings.

“Please. I am literally begging.”

Your dad draws a fake halo around his head, and you just roll your eyes.

The morning gets off to an even more embarrassing start as soon as Rafe crosses the threshold into your house. Wilbur jumps into his arms immediately, all ninety pounds of him, and your mom’s eyes widen.

“My goodness, he’s usually so hesitant around strangers!”

Dylan chokes on a laugh, and if you weren’t across the room you’d have elbowed him in the ribs.

“Oh, I’ve walked Wilbur by Tanneyhill before.”

“Yeah, I-I love Willy. Mrs. Y/l/n, it’s so nice to see you again,” Rafe says, effortlessly following your lead after Wilbur scampers out of his hold. He shakes your mom’s hand politely. Your dad sidles up to her then, fixing Rafe with a stare harder than you’d prefer. “Mr. Y/l/n, you as well. Thanks again, to both of you, for inviting me.”

“Good to see you, Rafe,” your dad says, a strong hand clamping onto his shoulder. “Dylan, come say hi.”

Dylan’s grin is devilish, and you're just watching on in pure horror at this point. “How have you been, Rafe? Haven’t seen you in a while.”

—

Rafe’s grinning ear to ear, hand firm on your thigh, all of the windows in his truck rolled down. He even popped the sun roof, letting you blast your playlist all the way down the road.

“Okay—I just... did that go well?”

“You did great, Rafe.”

Despite Dylan's best efforts to embarrass you two, brunch had gone really well. Your dad took a second to let his guard down, unlike your mother who was immediately gushing over him. You could practically see the wheels in her head turning, the wedding colors she'd picked for you. And your dad came around quick enough once Rafe brought up Formula 1.

Your boyfriend looks so relieved, hand even coming to feel the air pass through his fingers as he hangs his arm out the window, hand on your thigh coming back up to steady the wheel. He taps on it excitedly.

“Lowkey, feel like I nailed it, baby.”

“Okay,” you giggle, leaning over to peck his check. You pull him in with a soft hand to the other side of his face. “Let’s not get too big for our britches.”

“Oh, I’m a parent-meeting expert now. Might go into consulting.”

“You’ve perfected the sport?” you joke.

“No, no. That’s—I’ve never actually met parents before,” he admits.

“No way?”

“Way? Have you?” he asks, slight edge seeping into his tone as he pulls up to the stoplight outside of your favorite coffee spot.

“Uh... once. We weren’t even really dating yet, but they came to visit and he like, ambushed me with them at dinner. They were kinda hippies, though.”

“Yeah?” His tone is clipped as he parks his truck.

“Yeah, some guy from my comparative literature class sophomore year,” you sigh. “But, you’re the first to meet my parents.”

“Mm,” he hums, fingers tapping on your knee. That satisfies him. He gathers one of your hands in his. “You coming in?”

“Will you just get me a latte? Kinda wanna call my mom and debrief.”

He laughs, kissing your knuckles. “I’ll give you a minute, sweetheart. Oat milk?”

—

Your original plans to meet the Camerons fell through, a last minute staging emergency arising when you were all supposed to go for dinner. You’d tried not to look down while Rafe attempted in earnest to cheer you up, telling you how pretty you looked while you took out your earrings and let your hair down. He'd kissed the crown of your hair and apologized profusely, promising they would love you when they finally got to meet you.

“M’not upset.”

“Okay.” His hand stroked your back through the thick cotton of one of his old water polo sweatshirts he’d let you borrow for the night.

“I’m just really nervous about meeting them. You might’ve set the bar a little too high with my parents.”

“You just have a great family.”

“I don’t know,” you said when you finally cracked a smile. “Made it pretty far on your first try.”

“Don’t worry. They’re going to love you, sweetheart.”

You let him kiss your cheek, your forehead, your nose and chin.

“Hope so.”

“Know so.”

And Rafe had somehow convinced your father to let you go to Midsummers with his family, promising to join up for pictures and greetings later. Your dad had willingly let him, to your surprise.

The event was a big deal to Figure 8 patriarchs and matriarchs alike, always trying to outdo the other in every way, all while feigning some sense of island camaraderie. But when Rafe had set aside time at brunch to specifically ask your family for their permission to accompany you to the event, they’d been hard pressed to say no. Your family immediately accepted Rafe as your boyfriend, any lingering hesitations about his character drowned out by the equal chances of your personal happiness and the heightening of their social and business profiles.

But he’d still come to your house to pick you up, ready to greet your parents in the foyer once again.

He takes one look at you in that blush pink dress, hair, makeup and jewelry all done up this time around, daisy flower crown in place, and flicks his eyes around his surroundings. Your father and Dylan were nowhere in sight, and your mother was busy fixing her earrings in the hall. He takes to your side immediately, a kiss to the side of your head followed by his lips pressing against your ear. “I’m fucking obsessed with you.”

With the high from those words, you ride in his truck to Midsummers, nerves never dissipating no matter how many reassurances he speaks across the summer air streaming in through the vehicle. “Remember, they’re gonna love you.”

He helps you down from his truck so you can focus on keeping your dress off the ground, assuring you for the fiftieth time that Rose is going to like your headpiece.

“Miss Y/l/n, how lovely to see you again you at last,” Ward sighs, sounding somewhat fond. “Rafe’s been talking my ear off about this, meeting you again even though we’ve already met. Sorry we couldn’t make it work earlier.”

“No worries, Mr. Cameron. Thank you so much for inviting me to tag along with your family at Midsummers. You as well, Mrs. Cameron. You look beautiful.”

“Thank you! And of course,” Rose says, bringing you in for a hug, one you definitely were not expecting.“You’re out in California, aren’t you?”

“Yes, home for the summer.”

“That’s a long way from here,” Ward says. His eyes flicker to Rafe. “Long way from Georgia. Shorter, but still a long way.”

“Dad, c’mon,” Rafe cuts in, and you can feel his hand gripping the back of your dress:

“He’s just stating the obvious, Rafe,” Rose intervenes.

“Yeah, it is far,” you agree. Rafe’s head whips around back to you.

“We’re figuring it out,” he says. To anyone else in the vicinity, he probably sounds confident and self assured. But you know Rafe, and you can look into his eyes and see that he’s not. That if he weren’t in front of his entire family, trying earnestly to impress his father, he’d have said: ‘we’re gonna figure it out, right?’

“I’m sure things will work out the way they’re meant to,” Ward says after a lapse in conversation. “One way or another.”

“Let’s get some photos so we can all enter and the two of you can run off,” Rose says immediately after, giving neither of you the time to say anything else.

You do your best to shake off Ward’s comment as the four of you join up with the Cameron daughters, plus Sarah’s boyfriend, John B. After posing for what felt like hours, the photographer asks you and John B to hop out so they can take some family pictures, the two of you swiping up a couple of Old Fashioneds from the bar. You have to assure Rafe twice that you’ll be okay for ten minutes on your own.

“First time meeting Ward?” Sarah’s boyfriend asks, leaned up against the bar like he owns the place.

“Er—of course not,” you say, like it’s obvious. But of course John B knew nothing about Figure 8 social circles. “Just the first time as Rafe’s girlfriend.”

“Yeah, you look nervous,” he admits, chuckling when your mouth drops open. “It’s not too obvious, I just know because—been in your shoes.”

You should be insulted that the teenager compares his and Sarah’s relationship with yours and Rafe’s, but you know he isn’t being malicious. You see nothing but kindness in his eyes. And it’s nice to have somewhat of a teammate in this situation, the two of you standing by while one of the most powerful families in Kildare poses together in their finest outfits.

Rafe looks hot in his grey suit, especially with the pocket square he’d agonized over for weeks before you gifted him one that was hand sewn from the extra material where your dress had been hemmed. Monogrammed, of course.

You’d decided to go with his initials, since it was going to him after all. But your stomach gets fluttery if you think about the expression on his face when he’d received it, telling you that you should’ve put yours on it instead. “That way everyone will know I’m yours.”

Turning back to John B, you can’t imagine how he must have felt the first time he was invited into all of this. It intimidated even you, and you’re pretty sure John B was friends with the boy who delivered your family’s groceries every week.

“Any tips?”

“You’re way better off than I was, first of all,” he laughs. “But he’s really only scary when it’s one-on-one. He cares too much about this appearance of a perfect family to make digs in front of an audience.”

You nod. “That’s actually really good advice, John B.”

“Don’t sound so surprised, kook.” He clinks his glass against yours, promptly throwing the entire drink back as you watch and laugh. “That’s another tip. Drink whenever you can.”

“I’m familiar with that one.”

It's intimidating entering the event, a little after everyone else has arrived. Rafe told you that was by design—the Camerons could never be earlier than fashionably late. You always assumed you and Rafe were raised with similar pedigrees, but you're barely through the doors of the event before you realize that's not entirely true. Up until the last millisecond, Rose is fussing with Sarah and Wheezie's gowns, the older daughter making eye contact with you and rolling her eyes at her step-mother's antics. And Ward brushes Rafe's shoulders off more times than you can count, straightening his bow tie for him repeatedly. Rafe just places his hand on your back, leaning down to whisper into your ear. “You ready?”

You smile up at him, but your nerves are firmly settled in at this point. What you reply isn’t completely true. “Of course.”

—

You take John B’s advice, of course, and choose Kelce as your designated drinking buddy for the night. He was hard to keep up with, but you threw your inhibitions to the wind after you got meeting the Camerons out of the way. Plus, Rafe had more business to attend to than he’d let on, and you were getting pretty bored. Not too long ago he would’ve been right beside the rest of you, causing trouble and borderline embarrassing all of your parents. It was weird to see him walking around, shaking hands and rubbing elbows. He’d invited you into a few conversations, you trying your hardest not to simply watch him in awe.

You’re engaged in some strange dance battle with Kelce when he stacks his drink into yours, both empties at this point. “Your turn to get a round.”

“Boo,” you sigh, throwing your head back. “What d’you want?”

“Surprise me.”

“Aye aye.”

You’re turning on a shaky high heel, and you have to give yourself a little mental pep talk to straighten up. Of course you can, though.

“What can I get you, miss?” the barkeep asks.

“Vodka press, Tito’s, and a Jack and coke. Double Jack. Actually—single. Thanks,” you murmur, trying to fish a ten out of your clutch.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got the tip for this one,” a voice says next to you. Ward Cameron is sidling up next to you, sliding a fifty across the counter. Your eyes widen at the tip, trying not to be embarrassed as the bartender sets the drinks down in front of you.

“Oh, thank you, Mr. Cameron.”

“Ah, call me Ward.” He flicks his eyes back to the bartender, who quickly pockets the tip and makes himself scarce to give the two of you some privacy. You can’t help but think of John B’s warning: ‘he’s really only scary when it’s one-on-one.’ There’s no point in even trying seek out Rafe, you knowing full well you’re expected to stay rooted to the spot until Ward dismisses you. “Having a good time?”

“Yeah,” you nod. “It’s always fun to come back out here for this.”

“So, California to Georgia,” he whistles. “That’s probably a five hour flight, at least.”

“Yeah, um,” you take a minute to make sure your flower crown is perfectly in place. “It’s actually two.”

“Excuse me?”

“Two flights. From his school to mine. Rafe checked, he said there’s nothing direct,” you clarify.

Ward let’s out an indifferent chuckle. “Of course he did.”

Your eyebrow furrows because you don’t know what to say, turning to look at where your drinks are starting to melt. Kelce would be wondering where you are by now if he wasn’t three sheets to the wind. And where the hell was Rafe?

“Y/n, as far as I can tell, you are a nice girl. I just need to make sure we’re on the same page about one thing.”

Your heartbeat that hadn’t really settled since Ward approached you is picking up again, and you really wish Rafe had been the least bit more concerned about where you were at this moment.

“Um, I-I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about.”

“I'm don’t know how serious you two are, Y/n, but I know my son. He's clearly very invested in pursuing you.”

Your resolve crumbles a little at that, your heart warming, thinking about Ward noticing something like that.

“But Rafe needs to be committed to finishing this degree so he can come home and start learning the ropes next year. And in four years, Sarah will do the same. Then Louisa after her.”

“Wow, that’s so lucky for you—that they all want to go into the family business,” you praise, not really knowing what else to say. It must be the wrong thing, because Ward just quirks an eyebrow.

“In this family, our business will always come first. Before anything and anyone else. Do you see what I’m getting at?”

You swallow, catching on to where this is going for the first time. You still go for playing dumb.

“Ward, I really don't think I understand.”

“But you do, don't you? You know Rafe. He’s a bit emotional, he’s a ‘feeler,’” Ward says sarcastically, putting it in air quotes. All of the niceties you experienced earlier when you first greeted Rafe’s family were long gone. You can only gather that it was all an act for Rafe’s benefit. But you know the only option is to sit there and take it. “He thinks with his heart, never enough with his head. Sarah, for example—when it’s time for her to cut that pogue lose, which it will be soon enough, I know she will. Whether it’s my decision or her’s. I can count on that, because she’s just like me in that respect; she knows we have to make sacrifices. But Rafe—I don’t think I can make that same assumption about him.”

“Ward, with all due respect, Rafe is really focused on the business.”

“You're correct, and I’ve worked hard to get him there. Which is why I can't have him spending his senior year of college, when he should be buckled down, traveling back and forth from California and getting distracted from his future by some girl.”

“Mr. Cameron, I would never—”

“You know that it’s true. I can tell you’re bright. You come from a great family.” It’s a compliment and an insult all at once. He likes you because of your father’s business and your mother’s social status, not because of what you do for Rafe, or what you have to show for yourself. He continues like it was nothing but the highest praise. “But right now, you are across the country from him, and I can bet he’s determined to make that work, no matter what it takes. Which I obviously can’t have,” Ward sighs. “It’s just not the right time. You can understand that, can't you?”

You nod numbly and pick up your drinks, hoping he’ll get the signal to wrap this up soon. You’re at the point where you can’t listen to this anymore, liquid courage re-flooding your veins.

“I’m not asking you to stay away from him, because you’re both adults,” Ward says, stopping you with a hand on your shoulder. “But I’m asking you to think long and hard about what’s best for the both of you. Rafe already knows what’s expected of him. He’s always known.”

You look back towards the crowd under the gazebo, able to make out John B of all people. He sees you talking to Ward, shooting you the most subtle thumbs up he can muster. He has no idea. You don’t take the chance to nod at him, turning back to the bar.

“Say the two of you let it go for the school year,” Ward bulldozes, taking a step closer to you. “And you end up back here too, great. But even then Rafe’s going to be working all the time, the longest hours he ever will in his life. For the next few years, Y/n. You’re so young—are you really going to tie yourself down to a commitment like that? What about your future?”

In a tone you hope comes across as confident, you say, “I really appreciate your concern, Ward.”

Ward's perfectly white teeth are pulling into an even more perfect grin, and the sight makes you sick.

“Great. I'm glad we had this talk.” He pats you on the back, leaving first before you get the chance to.

You just shuffle through the crowd numbly, not even reacting when someone steps on your toe, taking it all in stride as you seek the comfort of your friends once again.

You were foolish to think Ward would warm up to you immediately, or at all. You had been way too confident in yourself, especially after witnessing the wear working for his father had on Rafe. ‘He’s not an easy man to please.’ How could you be so naive, thinking you could coast by on your charm?

You’re a few feet away when you notice that Topper had joined up with Kelce again, as had your boyfriend. He’s joking with them, amused at the way Topper is clearly almost done tolerating Kelce’s drunken antics, but you stand and watch for a bit as he scans the crowd, gaze flickering toward the bar you’d just been at. You realize he’s looking for you when he finally spots you, his face relaxing as the two of you make eye contact.

“There you are.” He pulls you in close, kissing your forehead. You want to cry. “Where’d you run off to? One of those for me?”

He’s gesturing to the drinks you’re holding, reaching for the darker of the two. But Kelce is swooping in, snatching it out of your hold quickly. “Nope,” he pops the ‘p.’ “This one’s all mine. Sorry Cameron. Thanks Y/n/n.”

Rafe just rolls his eyes at the two of you, eyes lingering on your face when he notices your fallen expression. He sets your other drink down on the high top table you’re all standing next to, pulling you in by your hips. “You okay?”

If you had a choice right now, about how to proceed with telling or not telling Rafe about what had just happened, your instincts compel you to bypass the decision process altogether; you paint a careful smile on your face, shaking your head slightly. “Yeah, all good. Just zoned out for a sec.”

He isn’t convinced. “Tired?”

“Maybe a little. Kinda drunk. Are we leaving soon?” you ask, melting into him. It’s a lot easier to handle his tone of voice when you don’t have to look him directly in the eye.

“I vote yes,” Topper says, gesturing towards Kelce, who is somehow sucking down his new drink at an alarming pace while continuing to dance to the oldies tunes they play at these things. “Like, right now. Rafe, you’re hanging back right?”

You look back up at your boyfriend in confusion. “You’re not coming with us?”

He bite his lip in contemplation, looking around the party. The twinkly lights reflect off of his pupils, making him look starry-eyed as he surveys the crowd. A sea of opportunities to prove himself to his father. Rafe looks resolved when he turns back to you.

“Well... I was gonna stay, wrap up some stuff,” he explains. His eyes flicker across your face, still not pleased with your expression. “But that’s okay, I’m good to go now.”

“No, Rafe,” you say immediately. You take a deep breath, rolling back your shoulders and painting on a smile that comes easily with years of experience at parties like this. “Stay, I’ll go ahead. How long will you be?”

“An hour, tops. Will you take her?” Rafe looks hesitant, still taking your green light anyway, already slowly extracting himself from your hold, Topper rolling his eyes but nodding and beginning to corral Kelce toward the exit.

“I can’t believe you’re making me babysit two of them.”

“Don’t let her drink too much.”

“Hey,” you protest, pushing him in his chest half heartedly. The push barely does anything, only proving your impaired motor skills further. Or that you're dating a tree. “What are you, a cop?”

“I’m your boyfriend, actually.”

“Really? When did that happen?” you decide to play along, picking up your drink again.

“‘Bout a month ago, Y/l/n,” he says softly. He can see right through you, can tell you're putting on a show for all of your friends but you're still not okay. You have to break eye contact.

“Hmm, for some reason I thought you were just this guy from middle school.”

“At least this time nobody spilled on your dress,” he teases half-heartedly, and the memory only hurts you more. “Not sure I’d wanna sacrifice this one.”

“Can you—you guys are the worst. Focus. We need to go now, before Kelce gets his entire family blacklisted from the club. You coming or not, Y/n/n?” Topper begs.

You’re nodding, leaning up to give Rafe one last kiss before you leave. He holds you close to him with a firm hand on your back, voice dropping to a whisper right next to your ear. “You’re sure you’re okay?”

The lump in your throat is growing, but you push through, lowering yourself back down to your feet as soon as you can. “Yeah, don’t worry about it. Focus on the rest of your night.”

Rafe still looks unsure, his hand resting on the nape of your neck as he kisses your forehead. “Y/n—”

“We’ll talk about it later, okay?” you finally admit. Rafe nods curtly, can tell you’re not going to let him leave with you right now. But he doesn’t know why. He doesn’t know that if you pull him away from his responsibilities right after that talk you had with Ward, it’s going to spell disaster for the two of you.

“Just some business stuff, alright?” he assures you. “I’ll see you soon. Forty-five minutes.”

“Promise?” you murmur, fiddling with his pocket square. He smiles down at you, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

“Promise. You look so pretty. Half an hour. Now go.”

Topper’s guiding you towards the parking lot with a polite hand on your back, but you have to watch Rafe as you leave. You watch him approach his dad, who gives him a smile and a pat on the back. Rafe preens under his gaze.

But Ward must have been watching you two from afar because his gaze is flickering back to you, and he fixes you with a hard stare. He raises his eyebrows, bringing his drink to his lips. Taking a leisurely sip, hint of a smirk on his face. You can practically hear his thoughts: ‘Rafe chose to stay here with me, with the business, and sent you off with his friends.’ It’s everything in you to not let the tears that have been building on your waterline spill over. But your friend isn’t easily fooled.

“Y’alright, Y/n?” Topper says from beside you, trusting Kelce enough to walk on his own as you all near the parking lot. He moves to follow your gaze but you stop him, quickening your pace towards his gray Jeep. “Did something happen?”

“Ward Cameron happened.”

———

tags: @moniamaybank @downbytheouterbanks @littlementalpolaroids

[xoxo-teddybear]

Hi! Um I was wondering if you could write a Domestic Bakugou where they were doing the do and the kid( I forgot his name wtf-😭) caught them? And then Like the next day at school my boy boy is doing it do other girls in his class- NOT LIKE IN A SEXUAL WAY👴🏽🤏🏽🕶 like when they got caught bakugo would say” I’m just protecting your mom from my villains” or sum shit💀✋🏽 So now he is like trying protect his friends 😭Just wondering😁

Ima crack writer so HERE WE GO!!😎

Do As I Say, Not As I Do

Bakugou x f!reader

Warnings: Crack, smexy times, cursing, domestic

BAKUGOU’S MASTERLIST

“S-Slow down Suki!”

Your husband pounded into you at an alarming pace. Katsuki came home from work feeling a little frisky and so when their beloved son, Katsuo, was fast asleep, the couple decided to get it on. It was around four in the morning and you two had been going at it for an hour, already 3 orgasms in.

Your bodies were covered underneath the blanket as Bakugou rammed into you. His large arms held your torso close as your own wrapped around his neck. His aching member slipped in and out of you, head just kissing your cervix, as his heavy balls smacked against the swell of your ass. The sound in the room was terribly loud. The way your skin smacked against one another and your moans created a rough melody of sex. Thankfully, you lived in a rather large home and your son’s room was far, far away. Good thing he was a deep sleeper too.

“What’s wrong princess? Can’t handle it?” Katsuki teased with his hot breath against your neck. At your every cry to go slower (in fear of awakening your son) Katsuki sped up his rhythm.

“F-Fuck!” You screamed. Katsuki rose above you and captured your neck in his hand. He stayed close to you as his free hand went to your hip and brought you close to him while he slammed into you. The fast movements caused the bed frame to bang against the wall as Katsuki moaned into your ear.

“S-Shit baby! Oh fuck, you feel so good. So perfect wrapped around my cock.” He groaned in your ear. The immense pleasure and husky voice had your back arching, giving your husband the chance to wrap his arm under you and flip you both over. You tried to keep the blanket covering you both as you bounced up and down his dick, but failed as the fabric traveled down to only cover your lower ass.

As you bounced, Katsuki continued to thrust up into you. His hands held onto your ass and gave it a smack from time to time. “K-Katsuki! I’m gonna cum! Please! Mm, yes! Don’t stop!”

At the sound of your voice, Katsuki’s hands went straight to your clit and ferociously rubbed at it. His actions had you throwing your head back and your pussy clenching around him. Katsuki noticeably jumped a bit when you began to tighten around his cock.

“Oh baby! God you’re squeezing me so damn tight.” He said as he kissed your chest. “F-Fuck, gonna make me put another brat inside ya. You want that? Wanna be full of my seed? Give me another one, yeah?”

You nodded your head as your eyes filled with tears due to all the pleasure. His grip on your waist grew tighter as your legs began to shake. The sound of skin slapping sped up as you and Bakugou drew closer and closer to your climax.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!” He screamed as you moaned loudly. You both came at the same time and to silence the both of you, Katsuki pulled you in for a kiss. You both moaned into it as your hips grinded on his dick. His hand squeezed at your ass again before giving it another smack and then soothing the stinging sensation with soft rubs.

You kiss would’ve continued had it not been for a sweet little voice coming from the doorway. “Dad?”

At the sound, Katsuki instantly jumped and flipped you both over again, covering your bodies with the large sheet. He layed atop of you while you looked away from your son. The blanket covered you both, leaving nothing but your heads exposed. “Katsuo! Hi son, what’re you..Uh what’re you doing up?”

“What’re you guys doing?” Your son asked with his doe eyes he inherited from you. Katsuki’s member throbbed from inside you and he grunted at the feeling.

“Umm...I was just- just...protecting Mom from villains!” You gawked at your husband for his idiotic response. Out of everything he could’ve said, he said that?!

“Cool! I wanna help!” Your son said starry eyed but when he took a step to come closer, Katsuki screamed out.

“N-No! Uh- no, it’s okay bud. She’s fine. Okay? Uh..please go back to your room and go back to sleep. Okay? Yes? Please?” Katsuki asked with a hurried voice. Your son only smiled and nodded before running back to his room.

You both visibly became less tensed as the two of you released relieved sighs. You turned your head to your husband who remained inside of you and slanted your eyes at him when he gave you a cheeky smile. “We sure got outta that one, huh?”

“Get the hell off of me Katsuki!” You said, pushing his face away from you. The shove caused Katsuki’s member to slip out of you and you gasped at the loss. Katsuki smirked down at you and you only grunted at him. “Really? Protecting me from villains? that’s the best that you could come up with?!”

“Well what was I supposed to say?!” He screamed.

“Uh, I DONT KNOW! Maybe, ‘Oh, Mommy’s just cold. Oh, we’re not doing anything son. Oh, THIS IS JUST A FUCKING DREAM!!’ I mean, c’mon Katsuki!” You said.

“Would you have rather had me tell him I was stuffing your pretty pussy?” He asked with a smirk. You rewarded him with a smack to his chest and a pointed finger.

“I don’t need your sarcasm.”

Katsuki only backed up a bit to see the wrecked sight of you and noticed the white cream leaking out of you and onto the bed. “Heh, what you need is for daddy to fill you up one more time.”

“Yeah right, your horny ass just wants to cum again.” You said with sass.

“Yeah, guess what? You’re right, so help me satisfy myself. Besides, you got to cum four times while I’m sitting at two,” he said while peppering your face in kisses from above. “At least let me have one more, baby.”

You smirked and this time it was you that flipped each other over. Katsuki sat up while you sat on his groin. “I’ll help you in another way, Daddy.”

You kissed his lips for a few seconds before moving south to go down on him. It has been awhile since you’ve tasted your husband so this should definitely excite him. Katsuki was definitely shocked but couldn’t stop the huge smile growing on his face. He watched you swallow his member and when you hummed with his cock sitting in your throat, he threw his head back.

“Fuck yes Princess.” His hand found way into your hair as he helped you bob your head up and down. Katsuki was in for a long, long morning.

—

Speaking of mornings, Katsuo was going to be having an exciting one. He had a morning play date with Kirishima’s son and the twin Todoroki sisters.

Akio, Kirishima’s son, came by early and so you were happy to see the two boys getting along so well, just like their fathers. With the exception of Katsuo being much more nicer than Katsuki of course. When you opened the door to greet your best friend, Momo, and her two daughters, you assured the girls that they’d have a fun time.

The twins ran in after greeting you and giving you a hug which left you a few minutes to speak to Momo before she left. You walked to the glass door that gave view of the kids in the backyard and noticed how Homura (the twin with red hair) had gone to play with Akio while Yukine (the twin with white hair) had been drawn to Katsuo.

You always noticed the little blush on your son’s face whenever Yukine came around. You thought his little crush on the icy-calm girl was absolutely adorable. “Kids!”

The little 5 year olds turned their heads to see you calling for them.

“Come inside, the movie’s almost on!” Seeing their faces perk up at the sound of the children’s movie, you giggled and motioned for them to come in. They all happily followed you and got comfy on the large couch. You placed a few snacks on the table for them before turning the T.V on. “Alright Katsuo. You’re the oldest and Mommy has some training to do. Daddy’s upstairs working if you need anything but if you’re all set, can I trust you to keep everything steady in here?”

“I promise Mom!” Your young boy joyously said. You gave him a warm smile before pecking his cheek and walking to the master bedroom to change. You walked in to find your husband on his laptop finishing his reports on the bed.

You walked to your dresser and pulled out a bathing suit. This caught your husband’s attention and had him smirking in the corner. “If you put that on, I’m assuming that’s an invitation for me to rail you~”

You giggled at his wording before walking to him and giving him a quick peck. “It’s for training dummy. I’m gonna head downstairs to the pool and workout with my water bending.”

Katsuki still held his smirk as he pushed away his laptop and pulled you into his lap. You were a bit jumpy but nonetheless settled while straddling his lap. “I have another idea for a workout and if you’re wondering, it does involve bending.”

He pulled you in for a few sweet kisses before you hovered your lips above his own to speak. You smiled as you placed your hands on his chest to keep the horn dog at bay. “What is with you recently? First it’s you coming home to fuck me stupid and now it’s getting riled up from me just holding a bikini.”

“Can you blame me? I married the most beautiful woman in the world, so please believe I’m gonna take full advantage of that.” He replied. You chuckled a bit before he pulled you in for more kisses and a little heated make out session. Your tongues came in contact and began tangling as he took you by your ass and had you grind down on him.

“Mm..Suki, stop,” you said with a laugh as you pulled away. “Seriously, there’s kids downstairs and we definitely don’t want a repeat of what happened last night with our own.”

Bakugou just huffed and groaned while slumping in his spot. You knew he wasn’t mad because as you got off of him and walked the the bedroom door, you looked back at him to see him smiling at you with eyes that carried all the love in the world. You smiled back before walking downstairs.

As you walked down the hall, you hummed a little happy tune to yourself. You love your little family so much. Your beloved husband and your precious son meant the world to you. Nothing could ruin your mood. At least, that’s what you thought before a loud smack interrupted your humming. Your head snapped to the sound and you immediately ran to the living room to check up on the kids.

—

“Are you sure you’re doing it right, Katsuo?” Yukine’s sweet voice said.

“Yeah, yeah. I think my Dad went like..this? *SMACK*” Yukine released a little yelp at the hit and that was when you caught sight of everything.

“Uh, guys?” You asked while walking into the scene. “Is everything alright in- AHHHH!”

You walked in to find Homura and Akio in the kitchen putting plates away and your son and Yukine on the couch. What made you scream was the fact that Yukine was straddling your son’s lap and you just witnessed Katsuo smack her behind. You immediately ran to the two and picked Yukine up while putting her on the couch and dragging your son by the ear up to your room while constantly saying “No, no, no, no, no, no, no...”

—

Katsuki was continuing his work after you left but after just a few minutes, you came back in constantly saying “no” as you dragged your son in by his tiny ear.

“No, no, no, no, nope! No! NO!” You said and tugged Katsuo in by the ear and shut the door. “Katsuo? Sweetie? What was that all about?”

“Woah, hey, what’s going on?” Katsuki asked, shutting his laptop and getting up from the bed. “Katsuo what’d you do?”

“Nothing! I wasn’t doing anything wrong. Mom just came in and started yelling.” Your son said in defense. Your husband looked to you in confusion but you sighed before whispering to him.

“Katsuki, I walked into the living room and Yukine was straddling Katsuo while he grabbed and smacked her ass!” You whisper-yelled. Katsuki’s eyes popped and his head snapped towards his son. On the inside, he wanted to laugh because damn his son was a playaaaaa but unfortunately he had to be a professional parent right now.

Katsuki walked to his son and crouched to his level. “Uh, Katsuo? Why did you smack Yukine? And why was she sitting on you?”

“I was doing what you did.” Katsuo simply said. Katsuki tilted his head in confusion with pointed brows as he pressed for more explanations.

“What do you mean?” He asked.

“I was protecting Yukine from villains cuz I wanna be a hero, just like you Dad!” Your son said with his adorable smile. “Just like how you were protecting Mom last night!”

Katsuki visibly got choked up at the last sentence and his mouth formed an “o” as he slowly turned to look up at you. He was still crouching as he stared up at your angry form that held eyes of fury and crossed arms. You looked towards your husband with a raised brow and he began to sweat a little with a nervous laugh leaving his mouth.

“Um, okay son. You had good intentions which is great but..you see..uhhhh....Y/N?” Katsuki asked for help as he turned towards you. You sighed and dropped your head as you walked to the two and dropped down to your son’s level.

“Katsuo, the way your dad was..protecting me last night is only for adults. Not for little angels like you. So please don’t do it again, okay?” You said while holding his little hands.

“Am I in trouble Mom?” Your son asked with a small pout.

“Of course not sweetie. Your dad was right, you had good intentions. Just- please don’t do it again my love.” You said with a wavering smile. Katsuo smile and nodded before asking another question.

“Can I do it when I’m older?” He asked with his pure child innocence. You froze up a bit and Katsuki laughed a little bit you turned to him and smacked his arm to get him to shut up.

“Uh- we’ll have that talk later, bud. For now just, please don’t do it. Okay? From now on, do as I say and not as I do.” Katsuki said and Katsuo listened. He nodded his head and you released a relived sigh before standing up and glaring at your husband. You dragged him by his arm to a corner and pointed a finger into his chest.

“The next time some B.S like this happens again, you won’t have to worry about protecting me from villains for a month. Am I clear, Katsuki?” You said with slanted eyes. Your husband had a quivering smile as he looked at you in very slight fear.

“Crystal.” He replied. You walked out the room to go and check on the kids leaving the boys in the room by themselves. Once your were a good distance away, Katsuki walked over to his son and looked down at him. Katsuki looked to each side of the room before looking back at your son and speaking. “Did Yukine make a noise when you hit her?”

Katsuo nodded and Katsuki smiled down at his boy before ruffling his head and pushing him to the bedroom exit. Katsuo understood and opened the door to go back downstairs as he laughed at his father’s rough but loving treatment. As Katsuki watched his son from the bed he couldn’t help but whisper a little. “That’s my boy. So proud.”

“What?” Katsuo asked as he thought he heard his father say something. Katsuki looked everywhere in the room except at the tiny child at the door.

“Huh? What? Hm? Ah, no, no. Nothing. Uh-...go back downstairs.” He said and Katsuo nodded before exiting. Katsuki layed back down on the bed with his arms behind his head as he smiled contently at the ceiling. “*sigh* Yeah, that’s definitely my son.”

Tag list: @sxcker4you @aomi04

[ticklishfiend]

Strawberry Milk (My Hero Academia)

Ship : Lee!Bakugou Ler!Kirishima (Kiribaku)

A/N : this took forever to make and it's the longest fic i've posted on this account so far, but i just had a lot of fun making it!! i hope you guys enjoy it, especially the lovely krbk anon who inspired this. they actually sent a few prompts that have inspired other krbk tickle fic ideas that i'll more than likely write for soon as well, but for now i hope you enjoy this!! much love <33

Summary : Kirishima stays for a sleepover at Bakugou’s childhood home, and after accidentally pissing off the explosive teen, seeks out some professional help from someone who may know the boy best: his father. From this, Kirishima learns a quick way from the boys childhood to get him forgiveness in no time.

Word Count : 5113 (jfc lmao)

REBLOGS ARE GREATLY APPRECIATED!! MWAH <33

. . .

“Are you seriously mad at me over this?” Kirishima asked with a confused, breathy chuckle. He watched as his best friend pouted with arms crossed over his chest like a child, glaring daggers into the redhead from his spot on the bed.

“Yes. And I do not plan on changing that. So don’t fucking try me, Spiky Hair” Bakugou turned his body fully away from Kirishima now, who was lounged rather comfortably on Bakugou’s orange beanbag seated on the ground. Kirishima rolled his eyes at Bakugou’s childishness, though still couldn’t help but feel a little bit guilty.

After months of practically having to beg the explosive teen for a sleepover at his childhood home, the blonde finally relented and allowed Kirishima to be a guest in his home for the weekend. Bakugou’s parents were actually pretty happy to have Bakugou back at the house, even if for such a short period of time, and were even more thrilled when they realized someone actually wanted to come with him. Bakugou was never really one for making (and keeping) close friends growing up, so this was something they were definitely excited over the prospects of.

He and Bakugou had been playing video games for the past couple of hours now, their most recent game that Bakugou was now practically fuming over being...Minecraft. Bakugou had gotten pretty attached to a wolf he unsurprisingly named “Prince Homicide,” but after bringing it to a cave while mining with Kirishima, the red-head had accidentally pushed it into a vat of lava, killing it almost instantly.

So that’s where the pair were now. Bakugou seething from his spot criss-crossed on the bed, now turned away from Kirishima with his arms crossed like a child towards the wall. Kirishima sighed, pushing himself off the beanbag and walking towards Bakugou’s door.

“Look, I’m gonna go get something to drink. You want anything?” Kirishima raised his eyebrows in hopes of a response.

“Die,” was all he got.

Kirishima bit back another chuckle, opening the door before turning his head back around to look at Bakugou, who was now fiddling with his sheets and grumbling to himself angrily. “Alright, well, I’ll be back in just a minute. Hopefully you’ll have calmed yourself down enough by then.”

“I AM CALM YOU RED-HAIRED LOSER!” Bakugou yelled at the door as Kirishima quickly walked out and shut the door to avoid the small blasts he could hear shooting from the boy’s palms. Kirishima just shook his head with a grin, making his way down the stairs and towards the kitchen.

When he arrived, he saw Bakugou’s father cooking dinner on the stove. It made Kirishima smile, reminding him of his own home a little, though he hadn’t been back home in a while. He did miss his moms quite a lot since moving to the dorms, and he’ll definitely have to invite Bakugou over to meet them sometime soon.

He could smell the amazing spices his father had been adding to whatever meat and noodles he had in the pot, the scent almost burning Kirishima’s nose from how spicy he could tell it was. ‘Obviously loving spiciness must run in the family,’ Kirishima thought as he opened up the fridge, alerting the father’s attention.

“Oh, Kirishima! Are you looking for anything specific?” the man asked, looking up from his steaming pot for a moment to smile at his son’s best friend. Kirishima shot a cheerful smile right back at him.

“Oh, just some water would be fine!” he nodded, grabbing a water bottle from one of the fridge drawers, before remembering the seething boy upstairs waiting for his return. He grinned. “Actually, what does Bakugou normally drink here? At the dorms he usually has protein shakes but you probably don’t have those just lying around,” Kirishima chuckled, sitting his water bottle down on the kitchen island to look at his friend’s father.

“Well, the boy doesn’t usually like to admit it but he’s quite keen on strawberry milk,” he smiled with a nod as he went back to stirring his pot, glancing over towards Kirishima with a grin.

“Shoot, really? Didn’t peg him for the strawberry milk type of guy,” Kirishima giggled, looking back in the fridge and noticing the few bottles of strawberry milk they had lying on the shelf, probably bought when they found out Bakugou was coming home for the weekend. “He’s kinda mad at me right now so I figured I’d make a peace offering.”

“Not a bad idea, kid. I’ve had to do my fair share of those over the years. Katsuki’s always been the rather...angry type,” Masaru’s eyebrows furrowed downward towards his pot, shaking his head as if thinking of all the times the boy must’ve lost his temper at his old man.

“What did you used to do when he was little? Y’know, whenever he got all...aah!” Kirishima accentuated his little growl imitating Bakugou by shaking his hands angrily in front of him, just like how Bakugou usually does when he’s about to blow someone to kingdom come. This made Masaru laugh, shaking his head and adding a few more spices to the pot.

“Well...as of now, I usually just let his mother handle everything. But when he was little, Mitsuki and I would usually just tickle the little guy ‘til he giggled all that anger out,” Masaru smiled at the fond memories, glancing over towards Kirishima who held a wide-eyed, shocked but excited expression on his face. Masaru chuckled, pointing his spoon towards the teen. “But you did not hear this from me, understand?”

“Oh, totally, I got your back 100% Mr. Bakugou,” Kirishima saluted the man with a grin, making him laugh once more with a fond shake of the head. Kirishima lowered his hand, finally grabbing the strawberry milk from the fridge and sitting it on the counter with his water, promptly shutting the fridge door. “So...that didn’t make him angry or anything? He wouldn’t, like, explode you and Mrs. Bakugou to ashes or something?”

“Well I’m still here to tell the story, aren’t I?” Masaru gestured to his body with his spoon, Kirishima nodding with a chuckle. “Nah, he used to love it when we did that! Sometimes I think he’d pretend to be angry on purpose just so we’d play ‘Claw’ with him.”

“Claw? What’s Claw?” Kirishima asked, now leaning on the counter with his head propped up on his hand, listening intently as if this was the single most interesting thing he’d ever heard (because in all honesty? It very well might’ve been).

“Oh boy, Claw was his favorite. I would always hold his hands down so he couldn’t get away, while his mother would make a claw hand and tickle it into his stomach and ribs. It always had little Katsuki in stitches,” Masaru was very obviously enjoying remembering these fond memories of his son, seeming like he had almost completely forgotten about these fun little moments until Kirishima had brought them all back to light. “We always did it when he was being bratty, but not bratty enough to deserve a time-out. Sometimes, though, he wouldn’t even have to do anything bad, he’d just come out and ask for Claw when he felt playful. It was always so cute,” Masaru grinned widely, looking over towards Kirishima and promptly pointing his spoon back at the boy. “And, again you didn’t hear any of this from me, but…”

He paused, almost debating whether or not this was a good idea. He was finally swayed on his decision, however, when he saw the bright look of excitement in Kirishima’s eyes at the prospect of an actually happy Bakugou. He couldn’t help but cave.

“...but if you wanna really get him laughing, his worst spots are the spot riiiiight under his armpits, and the sides of his thighs. You get him there and he’ll be forgiving you in no time.”

Kirishima nodded with a large, toothy grin, swiping the drinks off the counter and practically bouncing in his spot as he backed his way out of the kitchen. “Thank you so much, Mr. Bakugou. It was truly an honor to know you, but I’ve got a death sentence waiting for me upstairs.”

“You get him, kiddo!” Masaru shouted towards the teen as he scurried his way out of the kitchen and towards the stairs giddily.

Kirishima was practically cheesing when he made his way towards Bakugou’s childhood bedroom, and had to mentally and physically calm himself down before entering so as not to alert Bakugou of his devious scheme.

He pushed the door open, finding Bakugou to now be leaning with his back against the wall, arm propped up on his knee as he scrolled mindlessly through his phone. He scowled upon hearing Kirishima’s entrance, not even bothering to look up towards the boy as he grumbled, “Damn, I was hoping you were gonna stay down there all night.”

Kirishima rolled his eyes, tossing the milk onto the bed beside the blonde and hopping onto it himself. Bakugou’s eyes widened at the sudden movement beside him, eyes darting down to the drink on his bed before scowling back up at Kirishima. “How the fuck did you know I like this shit, I never drink it at school.”

Kirishima grinned, opening up his own water bottle. “Oh, just a little birdy,” he giggled, taking a sip of his water and watching as Bakugou begrudgingly took his own drink and started opening it as well.

“This doesn’t mean I forgive you, moron. These are just...really good,” Bakugou wasn’t looking at Kirishima, obviously still angry as he went back to staring at his phone instead of paying the redhead any mind.

“C’mon, man, I didn’t mean to! It wasn’t on purpose!” Kirishima practically pleaded next to him, putting a hand on the boy’s shoulder which was immediately shrugged off rather aggressively. “Look, I’m sorry. Would it make you feel better if I helped you find a new wolf?”

“Are you kidding me?! I’m not playing this shitty game with you anymore, you fucking suck at it!” Bakugou had a scowl on his face that looked like what he was saying was the single most obvious thing in the whole world. Kirishima just sighed, closing up his water and throwing it down on the bed.

“I’d hate to make you, Bakugou, but you may just force my hand,” Kirishima shook his head slowly as if in disappointment, only making Bakugou’s brows cross in confusion.

“The fuck do you mean ‘make me,’ you idiot?! You can’t force me to do shit, and I’m not fucking playing this game with you,” Bakugou pushed, and to anyone else it definitely wouldn’t sounded like he meant it. But Kirishima knew Bakugou far, far too well. He could hear the competition in his voice, see the spark of want in his eyes that just said ‘please fight me on this.’ He wanted a challenge. Kirishima could see that. And boy was he gonna give it to him.

“Oh, but can’t I?” Kirishima’s voice sounded almost taunting, and once he saw that Bakugou was looking at him with competitiveness painted all over his face, he brought both of his hands up to wiggle fingers menacingly towards the boy.

Bakugou instantly knew what he meant. And if the fact he immediately closed his drink and sat it on his nightstand was no indication that he wanted this to continue, the way he backed up on his bed cautiously with wide eyes instead of immediately fighting Kirishima back most definitely was.

He was excited.

“Kirishima, don’t you fucking dare,” Bakugou pressed through a lie, his eyes never once looking away from those still wiggling fingers taunting him in the air, as if too embarrassed to look Kirishima in the eyes and completely give it away that he wanted this, he wanted the fight. He didn’t have to look for Kirishima to know, though. The redhead was still able to see Bakugou’s face even if Bakugou wouldn’t look at him, and he could see the giddiness behind his wall of caution, which only pushed him to continue.

“Then let’s play the game, Bakugou,” Kirishima grinned as Bakugou gave him no response, only backing further away until finally Kirishima pounced, tackling and fighting Bakugou to the bed. This was the least Bakugou had ever put up a fight with him. Kirishima knew how Bakugou fought, he knew just how skilled and precise his moves always were, and he was giving Kirishima practically none of that. Though he did technically fight his way down, he was still inevitably completely tackled and pinned by the redhead, which almost never happened in their regular spars and play fights.

Kirishima forced Bakugou’s arms up above his head, the hardening hero-in-training using his quirk to keep the boy’s hands pinned there for good. His body hovered over Bakugou’s, a rather compromising position if they were to be walked into, but neither boy cared about that in the moment. They were too focused on the excitement and unadulterated giddiness bubbling in the pit of their bellies, and as Kirishima gazed down at Bakugou with a look of mischief in his eyes, Bakugou knew he knew. Kirishima knew Bakugou wanted this, and now the blonde was aware of that. Bakugou couldn’t quite tell if that made this better or worse.

“Fine then. We can play a different game. How about…” Kirishima paused, mocking as if in hard thought as Bakugou’s lips twitched, his eyes wide in a skittish anticipation. Kirishima finally let out a small pretend gasp, looking down at Bakugou before raising up his free hand in a claw shape. “...Claw.”

Bakugou’s eyes could not have been any wider. His cheeks were stained pink, and he squirmed under Kirishima’s pin, “No, nonono don’t you dare fucking touch me you red piece of shit, I swear to god I’ll fucking-HNG!” Bakugou choked on his words, eyes slamming shut as he felt five meticulous fingers skittered over his now bare tummy, as Kirishima must have pushed up his shirt while Bakugou was too busy threatening. Those nails were fucking torturous against his skin, his nerves lighting up and sparking with a specific feeling he hadn’t felt in what had to be years now. It was so bad, so so bad, but...god, he didn’t realize just how much he had missed this feeling until now.

“Uh oh,” Kirishima’s voice held a teasing tone that made Bakugou shake his head, still trying desperately to hold back any and all giggles that threatened to crawl from his gut. Kirishima chuckled darkly. “Looks like someone’s a little ticklish, huh?”

Bakugou only continued to shake his head from side to side, tugging at his pinned arms with no real fervor behind it. Kirishima couldn’t help the smile on his face seeing the boy like this, so flustered and obviously having a good time at something so cute. He could tell Bakugou was desperately trying to contain his giggles, which was definitely his average pride slipping through, but there was no way Kirishima was just going to let that slide.

With a smirk evil enough to send shivers down the blonde’s spine, Kirishima finally dug in, vibrating all five of his fingers into the boy’s taut abdomen. Bakugou howled, arching his back and kicking wildly behind Kirishima as loud giggles and squeals escaped his ever-excited being.

“NAHAHAHA! KIRISHIMAHAHAHA!” Bakugou screamed, those fingers never relenting in their claw-shaped torment on his belly. “SHIHIHIT AHAHAHA!”

“Damn, Bakugou, you’re really ticklish,” Kirishima chuckled, massaging his fingers into the boy’s muscles, causing his to spasm like he’d been shocked, screaming and kicking and cursing all the while.

“FUHUHUCK YOHOHOU AHAHAHA!” Bakugou guffawed, twisting and turning his body every which way as if he was trying to escape the mirthful torment Kirishima was putting him through. Suddenly, all at once, the tickling stopped, and Bakugou let in a gasp of air he didn’t even realize he needed. He opened his eyes and glared at Kirishima hovering above him, the redhead daunting a sinister grin that made Bakugou’s tummy do summersaults.

“What did you just say to me?” Kirishima questioned menacingly, bringing his free hand up to now hold Bakugou’s wrists in both hands, quickly bringing them both down under his knees with no fight from the blonde, who seemed to be frozen in...fear? Excitement? Either way, his eyes were blown wide, his chest heaving slightly from the attack and small titters still threatening to escape. But Bakugou was never one to back away from a challenge, no matter his condition. He couldn’t help the small twitch at the corners of his lips as he looked up to Kirishima in competition.

“I said: Fuck. You,” Bakugou spat out, and Kirishima could feel his body tense under him after he spoke the fierce words, almost like he was bracing himself for the inevitable. Kirishima shook his head with a grin, raising both his hands up in the air to once again wiggle tauntingly towards his victim.

“Oh, you are so gonna regret that,” Kirishima chuckled, lowering his hands down slowly towards the boy’s quivering belly. His stomach sucked in as if trying to evade the wiggly fingers, Bakugou’s eyes large and never looking away from those claws hovering over his sensitive torso.

Finally, his fingers touched down, skittering over the boy’s lower tummy and making his breath hitch, pursing his lips tightly and slamming his eyes shut at the teasing sensations. Kirishima’s fingers wandered and scribbled all over the boy’s torso, and for a few seconds Bakugou was able to keep his reactions at bay. That is, until Kirishima skittered on a spot right at the base of Bakugou’s ribs, causing the boy to jolt with a small yelp. Kirishima couldn’t contain his chuckle at the reaction.

“Ohoho, there it is,” Kirishima drawled, pinching at the spot that made Bakugou squirm. Bakugou growled, almost like he was trying to keep any cute little giggles to himself, but those incessant pinches just wouldn’t let up, and in seconds time he was a giggling mess under Kirishima’s touch.

“Nohoho! Fuhuhuck shihihit!- AHAHAHAHA NAHAHAHA!” Bakugou practically screamed when he felt Kirishima vibrate his index and middle finger into that spot at his lower ribs right where it meets his back. He arched his spine up, kicking fruitlessly behind Kirishima’s body and cackling like a child all the while. “YOHOHOU BAHAHASTARD! YOHOHOU FUHUHUCKING SHIHIHIT!”

“Well that’s really no way to talk to your best friend, now is it?” Kirishima tsked, clawing at Bakugou’s ribs and eliciting more screeches and cackles from the sensitive teen. “You’re so much more ticklish than I thought you’d be, I am loving this.”

“STAHAHAP SAHAHAYING THAHAHAT!” Bakugou shook his head back and forth, clenching his fists hard under Kirishima’s knees as if trying to keep himself from exploding the both of them both to ashes.

“What? That you’re ticklish?” Kirishima tilted his head with a smirk, pinching up and down the boy’s ribs rapidly, making his laughs soar up in pitch. “Cause, I mean, you are. You’re like, super duper ticklish! But it’s fine cause it’s totally cute,” Kirishima said the last bit without really meaning to, blushing slightly at his blunt statement, but deciding against ending the ticklish torment over it.

“NAHAHAHA! I’M NOHOHOT CUHUHUTE!” Bakugou denied through his cackles, continuing to shake his head in playful anguish. “FUHUHUCK OHOHOHFF!”

“Hmm...I don’t think I will. In fact, there’s a few more tickle spots I wanna try out, so you’re just gonna have to keep a-giggling for me, Bakubro,” Kirishima chuckled, taking his hands off the boy for a moment to give him a breather. Small breathy giggles and titters continued to spill from Bakugou’s lips during his rest, his head leaning back against the pillow in almost exhaustion. Kirishima leaned forward, placing both of his hands beside the boy’s head, leaving his face to hover over the boy’s own blushed one. Bakugou’s eyes widened a bit at the invasion of personal space, but never made an effort to push him off. Kirishima tilted his head like a curious puppy, “You’re okay, right? You don’t like, totally hate this? Cause I can stop if you really want me to.”

Bakugou’s cheeks were splattered pink, his eyes averting their gaze from the boy on top of him. He squirmed a tad under Kirishima’s straddle, shoulders hunching up slightly in embarrassment. “I mean...it’s not...the worst thing in the world…” Bakugou grumbled into his shoulder, eyes still refusing to meet the red-head’s own.

Kirishima grinned down at Bakugou, using one hand to gently cup Bakugou’s chin and turn his head to face his own. “I knew you didn’t hate it. I just wanted you to say it out loud,” he giggled at the blonde’s flustered and shocked expression, before quickly shooting his hands down to squeeze at Bakugou’s ribs with extreme ticklish precision. Bakugou shouted a cackle at the sudden change, his head shaking from side to side and eyes scrunching closed once more.

“OHOHO YOHOHU MOTHERFUHUHUCKER!” Bakugou guffawed, clawing at the sheets under Kirishima’s knees. Kirishima just giggled, working both of his middle fingers in between the tight spot where Bakugou’s arms were clamped against his ribs, digging into the spot just below his underarms that Masaru had told him about.

Bakugou shrieked, kicking harder than before as wave after wave of loud, unfiltered squeals and cackles left his chest.

“SHIHIHIHIT! FUHUHUCK OH MY GAHAHAD! NAHAHAT THEHEHERE! NAHAHAT THAHAHAT SPOHOHOT YOU FUHUHUCK!” He screamed through his laughter, opening an eye to glare at Kirishima through his mirthful tears. Kirishima sported the biggest, shark-toothed grin he could probably muster, and it sent fluttering butterflies throughout the inside of Bakugou’s entire torso.

“Aww, is this spot bad, buddy? This spot tickle?~” Kirishima cooed, his fingers never relenting as they wiggled and dug into that one torutrous little spot that had Bakugou howling.

“FUHUHUCK YOHOHU! YEHEHES! IT T-AHAHA! IT FUHUHUCKING TI-HEHEHE!” Bakugou couldn’t even get the flustering word out through all of his cackles and squeals, which amused Kirishima to no end.

“God how are you so adorable like this,” Kirishima sighed, finally bringing his fingers back down to teasingly scribble and wiggle all over Bakugou’s bare tummy. Bakugou dissolved into a puddle of high-pitched, breathy giggles, that had Kirishima fawning over him in seconds. “You’re so giggly, and I didn’t even know you could giggle before this!”

“Shuhuhut uhuhup!” Bakugou practically whined through his giggles, his cheeks so pink and warm Kirishima could just melt in the cuteness of his flustered face.

“Oooh, I wonder if your belly button is ticklish too,” Kirishima eyed the little navel that bounced through Bakugou’s laughter, one of his fingers travelling over to circle around the button teasingly.

“NO! Nohoho, dohohon’t! Plehehease!” Bakugou pleaded, though Kirishima knew it was all just a front.

“Wow, I’ve got THE Katsuki Bakugou begging right now? Who knew I’d ever see the day!” Kirishima chuckled, worming a teasing nail into the navel and causing Bakugou to shriek and jerk underneath him. “Aww, it’s like a little giggle button!”

“Dohohon’t sahahay that stuhupid shihit!” Bakugou tittered, goosebumps forming all over his tummy from the feather-light way Kirishima scribbled over the skin.

“Alright, oneeee more place I wanna try, then we get back to Minecraft. Deal?” Kirishima moved his fingers to scribble slowly up and down the boy’s sides to let him respond, delighted at the way the movement made him squirm.

“Fihihine, whatehehever,” Bakugou braced himself for the final attack, gasping when he felt Kirishima’s hands leave his sides and rest on the top of his thighs. “Shit, shihit, shit, wahahait-!”

“Oh, this is a good spot, isn’t it?~” Kirishima teased, squeezing the muscle once to see Bakugou jerk and shriek under him. “Yup. Looks like a good one to me.”

“Ohoho plehehease, I cahahan’t, it’s so bahahad-” Bakugou whined, squirming and giggling despite Kirishima’s tickling on his thighs to even start yet.

“You’re a super ticklish guy, Bakugou, but you’re also super tough and manly. I know you can take it!” Kirishima hyped him up with a smile, just making Bakugou groan and roll his eyes with a snicker. “C’mon! Tell me you can take it!”

Bakugou huffed, gazing over at Kirishima’s face that plastered that stupid goofy grin of his. God why does he have to be so cute, Bakugou thought as he sighed with another eye roll.

“Fine, whatever, I can take it, just...fuckin get it over with already, you’re killing me heRE-HRGN! FFFAHAHAHAHA OH SHIHIHIT!” Bakugou keened, cackling and thrashing himself from side to side as both of Kirishima’s hands massaged into his upper thighs. The sensation was torturous, beyond torturous, his nerves were on fire and his muscles were pulsing under those terrible wiggling fingers, but if he could choose it, he’d feel like this forever if it were by the hands of that stupid fucking redhead.

“Damn, this must tickle bad , huh? You’re losing your mind!” Kirishima giggled, squeezing at those sensitive muscles like his life depended on it.

“FUHUHUCK! YEHEHES IT’S SO BAHAHAD! KIRIHIMAHAHAHA! PLEHEHEASE!” Bakugou pleaded and begged, tiny droplets of mirth finally pooling at the corners of his eyes despite his best wishes. Kirishima could tell the blonde was finally reaching his limits, and slowed his fingers down until he was just resting his hands on top of the boy’s thighs comfortingly, rubbing up and down the sides to soothe the still giggling boy.

Kirishima smiled down at Bakugou who was still coming down from his giggle high, titters that could light up a whole room spilling from his lips and making Kirishima’s heart swell. “You alive, man?”

Bakugou coughed out his last giggle, still breathing heavy before giving Kirishima a lazy nod. Kirishima giggled, gently climbing off the boy and laying down beside him on the bed. Bakugou brought his hands up to rub at his still flushed face, and Kirishima couldn’t keep his eyes off of him. The red-head was grinning ear-to-ear, and he could tell that under the palms of those calloused hands covering Bakugou’s face, the blonde was too.

After a few more moments of comfortable silence, Bakugou brought his hands down, turning his head to face Kirishima with a small smile still visible, only on the corners of his lips. “You almost killed me, you bastard.”

“Sorry, you were...you were just really cute like that. I’ve never seen you giggle before,” Kirishima chuckled sheepishly, eyeing Bakugou’s nearly forgotten drink still sitting on the nightstand. He pointed over to it, Bakugou’s following the direction of his finger. “You should probably get a drink, you were laughing pretty hard there.”

Bakugou huffed, his cheeks flushing only slightly at the comment, but he still rolled over to grab the drink and turn back around to face the redhead. “Shut up, I can’t help it.”

“Yeah, I know...too ticklish for your own good, huh?” Kirishima snickered, Bakugou punching his shoulder playfully while taking a sip of his milk. Kirishima rubbed the spot Bakugou punched with a grin. “I’m being serious, though. You really did look cute like that.”

Bakugou’s eyes refused to meet Kirishima’s. His hands cupped tightly around the bottle in his lap, thumbs fiddling with the plastic wrapper encasing it. Kirishima could see how flustered he looked despite their eyes not meeting and he almost felt a little guilty. But Bakugou finally glanced up towards Kirishima, and for the first time ever, the blonde looked...shy. “Do you really think that or are you trying to fuck with me right now? Cause it’s not very nice to fucking flirt with someone if you don’t mean it.”

Kirishima’s eyes widened a little at his bluntness to call it what it was; flirting. “Well, y-yeah. Yeah I meant it. For real,” Kirishima said, but he could tell Bakugou wasn’t sure if he meant it. Kirishima furrowed his brows, cupping Bakugou’s chin gently like he had while attacking the boy just minutes ago, turning his head so their eyes would meet. He stared intently at him, making sure his expression was as genuine as a person could be. “I’m serious, Bakugou. I...I think you’re really attractive,” Kirishima saw how Bakugou’s eyes moved, how he felt frozen under his touch but still somehow looked like he wanted to squirm. “You’re cute and super manly, which I didn’t even know could be a real combination until I met you. You’re...you’re my favorite person, Bakugou.”

They sat like that for a moment. Kirishima brought his hand back down to rest in his own lap, but their eyes never left each other. That was, until, Bakugou’s eyes drifted downward towards Kirishima’s lips. Kirishima’s heart faltered for a minute at the gaze, feeling hair standing up at the back of his neck. Bakugou’s eyes darted back up to Kirishima, a tilt forward in his head that asked Kirishima ‘is this okay?’ Kirishima just nodded with half-lidded eyes, before Bakugou slowly leaned forward, his own eyes closing as their faces finally met in the middle when Kirishima pushed his own head forward.

Their lips brushed shyly against one another, as if cautious and unsure if this was an okay thing to do, before Kirishima pushed into it, forcing their lips together. Bakugou brought a hand up to cup at Kirishima’s cheek, Kirishima doing the same to Bakugou. Bakugou felt like he was going to melt, or explode, or disintegrate or...or just keep kissing Kirishima until he couldn’t breathe.

After what felt like an eternity, they pulled apart, breathless and hazy. Kirishima opened his eyes first, and when Bakugou opened his and looked at Kirishima with those shy little eyes he didn’t have before, Kirishima couldn’t help but dissolve into a fit of giggles. His laugh was always too contagious, damnit, and before he knew it Bakugou was giggling along with him and he didn’t even know why.

When he finally caught his breath, Kirishima slumped back against the pillows of Bakugou’s bed, Bakugou following him to lay there and stare questioningly. “Sorry, sorry, it’s just...you tasted like strawberry milk.”

Bakugou paused for a moment, before chuckling, shoving at Kirishima playfully as they both snickered. “You’re a fucking dork.”

“Hm, maybe,” Kirishima giggled as he brought his face back closer towards Bakugou’s, meeting their lips once again in a soft kiss that lasted forever.

Kirishima would definitely have to thank Mr. Bakugou later for that helpful information about his son, because now their night tasted like strawberry milk and giggles, and Kirishima didn’t want anything else in the entire world than just that.

. . .

A/N : hope you guys enjoyed that, sorry its so fucking long LMAOO i got very carried away. it took me a while to write and ive got a fucking headache so imma go lay down now, MUCH LOVE!! <33

[johnsamericano]

Can do a fic about dilf doyoung is your Father's friend but u have a secret relationship with him them one day he got you preggo so u moved in with him plsssss also put a lot of smut shshshhshsh pls I hope you read this.

Hi there! My requests are currently closed but I can never resist writing dilf!Doyoung so you’re lucky. There's not THAT much smut in this because I wanted to make it as realistic as possible. Hope you like it!

warnings: dirty talking, sex, language, use of the name daddy, spanking, unexpected pregnancy, age gap.

“What’s the meaning of this invitation, Mr. Kim?” You inquired, walking past the front door with a gym bag hanging from your shoulder. “It's not every day you invite me to a private swimming party.”

“Very funny.” He welcomed you with a hug, his warm, naked chest pressed against your covered one. “Jeno’s out with his friends. He won't come back until tomorrow.”

“Aw, but where's the fun in that? I wanted to be with him.” That response earned you a slap in the ass, hard enough to serve as a warning not to keep testing his patience.

“Get changed. I'll wait for you in the hot tub.”

You locked yourself in the nearest bathroom, quickly yanking off your clothes to replace them with a baby blue bikini. You knew how much he loved the matching set, not as much as taking it off you, of course.

Wanting to make him wait for a while longer, you neatly folded your clothes and placed them over your sleeping wear inside the bag you'd brought with you.

“Took you long enough.” He was sitting inside the water, his arms spread wide as he gave you a less than amused look. “Come here.”

Despite how dominant he might look on the outside, he never managed to fool you. As soon as you were between his arms, your face was guaranteed to be covered with kisses from his soft lips.

“I missed you this past few weeks.” His wet thumb traced figures over your arm, avoiding looking into your eyes. “Why haven't you visited?”

Your fingers played with the small, grey hairs covering the nape of his neck.

“It's getting harder to hide it from Jeno, and I know if he ever found out, our friendship would be over. I don't wanna lose him.”

“He’ll find out, better sooner than later.” The look on your face must've given away your thoughts. “What? Did you think this was just something casual?”

“I mean...” His jaw dropped, arms falling into the water with a splash. “Look, you have to understand me. We started right after your wife left, I thought you were using me to forget her. And I didn't mind-”

“Using you?” Just a few millimeters and his eyebrows would be touching. “Have you always thought so low of me?”

“Doyoung...”

“I want a future with you, y/n. Not just an occasional fuck but an actual relationship, and if you don't feel the same about me, then we might as well end things here.” This was the first time you'd seen him mad, with his whole face red from anger and the warmth of the jacuzzi, he looked as if he were about to explode.

“Of course I do. But it's complicated.” The red shade tinting his cheeks and ears, slowly faded. “No one would accept our relationship, for starters.”

“I couldn't care less about other’s opinions.”

In less than a second, his lips crashed against yours, hard. But there was a hint of sweetness in his wild movements, the way his hands caressed your back while his tongue worked its way inside your mouth aggressively.

“Already so eager?” He asked as your heat rubbed itself against his clothed cock. “Not here.”

“What...?”

The muscles in his legs tensed as he stood up with you still between his arms. He was strong, for a man of his age, of course.

“I’m afraid that I've been fucking you the wrong way, which might have been the reason for you to have the wrong idea about us.” Leaving a trail of water drops behind you, you climbed up the stairs leading to the second floor, where his room was located. “Scratch that. No more fucking, from now on, I'm gonna make love to you.”

“Have you always been this cheesy?” Your feet touched the floor as he removed his hands from below your thighs, slightly pushing you until the back of your knees touched the mattress.

“Don’t make me change my mind and spank that pretty ass.”

“Rude.” You let yourself fall on the fresh comforter, dragging him down with you.

“Take your clothes off for me, won't you?” He busied himself pulling down his swimming trunks while you struggled with the knot keeping your bra in place. “Such a silly, little girl. Can't do anything without her daddy, can her?”

“Please.” Even though you hated being humiliated, your core didn't seem to bother. His degrading words only caused your essence to form an even larger patch on your bikini. “Doyoung...”

“Fine.” His cock was standing proudly, his tip dripping with small beads of precum. “On your knees and turn around.”

He worked through the knots as fast as his trembling fingers allowed him to. His mouth was aching to say the special words he'd been keeping to himself for a while now, but he didn't have enough courage yet.

“Ready.” The straps fell down your arms, tickling the skin as they slid.

You took the last piece of your suit off, finally allowing your body to be consumed by the humidity of the summer evening. Doyoung was quicker to enter you than usual. No teasing, just lovemaking as he’d promised earlier.

“You’re so warm.” His lips were attached to your collarbone, sucking to leave a mark big enough for everyone to see. “Your little cunt takes me so well. No one else could make me feel as good as you do.”

With his hips pistoning your hole, your fingers found their way to the nape of his neck, dancing over the tender skin. The way you were looking at each other, so intimate and full of affection, had the words he'd been wanting to say rushing out of his lips.

“I love you.” His movements faltered as if waiting for you to give him any type of answer.

“What’s with that scared face?” You giggled, every inch of your skin flushed with embarrassment and desire. “I love you too.” He loved how young you made him feel, like a silly teenager confessing to his crush only to find out his feelings were reciprocated.

His thrusts resumed, this time slower, deeper, making sure you felt every single ridge and vein of his cock. His length caressed your walls oh so deliciously, bringing you closer and closer to your high. Until someone had to ruin it.

“Dad, where are you?” In a rush, Doyoung pulled out, not even noticing how his seed spilled out of your hole. Fear had taken over the pleasure.

“Get in the bathroom, he probably just forgot something. Don't worry.”

As he'd said, Jeno was quick to leave. Not even ten minutes later, Doyoung was back in his room, announcing Jeno’s little getaway got extended.

“So that means, you can stay for a while longer. Only if you want of course.” The bathtub was filling with warm water and bubbles he'd added. “Or we can go on our own trip, whatever you want.” You felt at ease between his arms, his heartbeat lulling you to sleep.

Who would've thought you'd be losing your mind a few weeks later because of the same man that had given you so much peace before.

“How could you forget to wear protection?!”

“Don't treat me as if I were the only one responsible for this situation.” You hid your face between the warmth of your palms, supporting the side of your head against the window. “Look at me, baby.”

You shook your head, tears starting to slip between your fingers.

“I’m here for you, darling. Whatever you want to do, I'll fully support you.” His thumb traced the shape of the shell of your ear.

“I don't know what I want to do.”

“We still have time to help you figure things out, okay?” There was a certain sadness to his tone, almost as if his hopes were vanishing.

He didn't want to get rid of it, but being pregnant was a burden that you'd have to carry alone as much as he tried to help. It was your choice and only yours.

“I want to have it, but I don't even have a job or economical support. My parents would kill me if they found out. And Jeno, oh boy, he'd have a heart attack.”

“You have me, y/n. And even though I can't do anything about other people's reactions, I'll always be by your side.”

Doyoung wasn't lying. He walked you through every step, even assumed part of the responsibility when talking to your parents, who didn't react as badly as you'd foreseen.

“Just make sure you're making the right choice.” They'd said.

Jeno was the last person to find out.

“Oh, hey y/n. Were you waiting for me?” He dropped the sports bag right in front of de door.

“We have to tell you something.”

“We?” The look on his face was almost comical as if life had been sucked out of his handsome features.

“Yes, we.” Doyoung laced his fingers with yours, tightly locking your hands together.

His father explained the situation calmly, making sure to use the right words to avoid scaring him away. By the time he was done, Jeno was just staring at you with an emotionless face.

“Jeno?” Your heart dropped at the thought of losing your friend. “Say something, please.”

“You want me to say something?”

There was a small, dramatic pause to add some tension to his words. But the mood lightened as soon as his eyes became crescent moons.

“Bold of you to assume I wasn't aware of your little relationship.” He giggled. “It's okay, guys. You're both adults and I trust you know what you're doing.”

“What the hell is going on?” Your thoughts slipped out of your mouth.

“Thank you, Jeno.” Doyoung mouthed, squeezing your shoulder.

“Man, I always wanted a little brother.” He walked up to you, wrapping his arms around you and his father's neck.

“I rather have a girl this time.”

“Should I call you mom?” Jeno teasingly asked, poking the back of your head.

“Try me.”

(...)

As you folded your clothes and placed them in your new closet, the sun started setting. The light sound of sizzling could be heard from the room, probably Doyoung cooking dinner.

“Y/n!” He shouted from downstairs. “Come help me set the table.”

“Coming!” You set aside the remaining boxes. There were not many clothes left to unpack, so you could finish after eating.

You tiptoed on your way downstairs, accomplishing to scare him with a surprise back hug.

“Stop, you could've burnt yourself.” He scolded, undoing your hug only to quickly pull you by his side moments later.

“Is it me or are you getting a little too overprotective?”

“Am not!” His eyebrows quivered like they did every time he lied.

“Really? Then why haven't we had sex ever since you found out I was pregnant?” Your hand teasingly traced figures on his lower abdomen, a little too close to the stove he was using.

“You’re gonna get burnt.” Once again, he tried to push you away, but your hand remained in the same position. “Baby...”

“Uh-uh, you're not gonna sweet-talk your way out. Why won't you touch me anymore? Have I lost my charm or something?”

“What? No!” He turned off the stove, completely turning to his side to face you. “I just don't wanna hurt the baby.”

“Bullshit. You know it's still safe to do it, you already had one son, for god's sake.” Your arms were crossed over your slightly swollen mounds. “I want the truth.”

“I’m telling you the truth...” There was no nervous quiver from his eyebrows, but his tone was less than convincing.

“The whole truth, Doyoung.”

There was no way out, he had to tell you what he'd been trying to hurry at the back of his head for weeks now.

“I can't stop thinking that the only reason we became official is because of this baby, and I'm afraid if you lose it, I'll lose you as well.” It seemed as if your roles had reversed, as if he was the youngest, the most immature.

“Idiot.” You flicked his forehead with anger, later pulling him into a bear hug. “Get those stupid ideas out of your little head or I'll have to slap them out of you.”

“Rude much.”

“I told you once before we found out about the baby...” Your lips were achingly close to his, ready to kiss those soft, pink pillows. “I love you.”

Your eyes were stuck on his lips, too busy to notice how his eyes started sparkling, the edge of them trying to contain his tears. After a while, you looked up, his nostalgic expression puzzling you.

“I’m sorry, it's the hormones.” He sniffled.

“That's not how pregnancy works, honey.”

[aetheternity]

Hello! I’ve read your work and fallen in love! I don’t know if your requests are open, but I really like the Armin x you x Levi post you wrote🥰 may I please request a smut of this? Thank you!

First of all thank you! I'm so glad you're in love with my work. 😊 Second of all I'm sorry this took a while I got sick and writing smut while being sick is honestly disgusting. Plus I recently fell in love with Saiki K and have been binge watching it . 🤭 N e ways! Hope you enjoy this.

Warnings: Polyamory, threesome, Nsfw content.

Ok you'll be honest with yourself four years ago you didn't expect to be as happy as you are now. 

After you'd grown sick of your living arrangement with your parents. You'd left that life behind. Moving into the small empty bedroom your best friend since your last year of middle school had open in his surprisingly tiny apartment. 

And when you said tiny. You meant tiny. 

Some rooms in the apartment weren't even big enough for someone to stand in with their arms outstretched. Not to mention a couple of your nights were spent huddled next to Armin on the couch with a huge blanket around your bodies because the heat randomly shut off. 

You'd think a situation like that would be worse. But weirdly enough it had been the best for both of you as your relationship had always had a sort of looming sexual tension that went unexplored. 

Long lingering touches to your waist got just a little bit longer while trying to squeeze past you in the bathroom. "Sorry I just need my brush." Armin would whisper. Warm palm against your hip. The ghost of his pelvic bone so close yet so far away. Just the realization making you arch in his grasp. You'd hold his gaze and in the back of your mind you could watch the soft slither of his tongue as it wet his gorgeous pink lips so many times over. 

Of course it escalated with neither of you ever saying a word about your feelings. You spraying water from the sink on a shirtless Armin during a heat wave that just wouldn't let up as he walked into the kitchen wearing only grey sweatpants. (Yup.. only sweatpants.) The way they hung so low on his hips practically begging for your tongue to stretch across the expanse of his pelvis. 

Him hugging you tight around the waist for literally any reason he could think of. (And he found a new reason everyday.)

And then it escalated a little further.. you pulling back the shower curtain to "complain" about him eating your leftovers. Him pulling you into his lap while the two of you watched tv. 

And one day it just ended. And by ended it meant you two opened a bottle of wine on New Years and the ball wasn't the only thing that dropped. He had you laying ass up, legs spread and pussy sobbing as he rocked your hips for eight fucking hours with no stop. Did that table break? During hour five but Armin managed. 

And then you guys moved. After a mutual agreement that the two of you were aware of each other's feelings and wanted to be together. You'd both managed to pool enough money together to afford a bigger place with two bedrooms. One unused and one that was immediately broken in with Armin over stimulating you the second the boxes were halfway unpacked. 

Fast forward to a man named Levi moving in across the hall, him developing feelings for you over a long period of seeing you daily thanks to his best friend absolutely adoring you and constantly inviting herself into you and Armin's home.

After a while you'd started picking up on the signs of his affection too. His long glances that sometimes didn't even break when you looked back at him. The little gifts that began to show up at your door. The way he'd bring over food when he knew Armin wasn't home. 

Once you'd started to develop feelings too Armin allowed you a night. One night to see if those feelings were actually real and what they might mean. Cue a night of carriage rides, roses (lots and lots of roses), stargazing and a kiss that damn near floored you and it was more than one night. 

Two nights and Levi had had you on his couch with him snuggled in what would soon become your favorite blanket. Three nights and Levi had you eating his mom's homemade spaghetti. And by a week you were begging for Levi to fuck you harder, fingers shaking on his white tiled kitchen floor. His relentless thrusts still causing your thighs to tremble hours after. 

He looked so lost in bliss in a way you'd never seen him before and you hugged onto him so tight you didn't even go back to Armin that night. Just curled up under your favorite blanket on his couch with his cock nestled deep inside you. His kisses littering your face till the moment you fell asleep. 

It was definitely a cause for fear. An unrelenting kind and you sat down on the couch with Armin the next day explaining how deeply you loved them both. Only to be shocked when he brought up the topic of polyamory. It definitely shocked you a ton when Armin agreed to it after some explanation of his own feelings but the real surprise was Levi explaining how he'd also thought about it and would be up for it. 

And thus began the beautiful bloom of a poly relationship after him and Armin had gotten better acquainted. You know after you guys all moved because Levi hated living in the apartment. 

The three of you left to live in a gorgeous house. (For once you were living in a place with more than one floor and an island in the kitchen.) A place you'd been calling home for over a year now. 

~~~~ 

Your breath hitched soft moans stuttering off your lips. You don't even remember who started it but here you and Armin were, his breath tickling every bit of your face with sweet languid kisses. One hand brushing over every curve you possessed while the other was softly brushing in between your pussy lips. 

Your body perched in his lap as he sat against the headboard. Pillows scattered around the two of you as you writhe and begged for more of his touch. 

You were probably drawing blood where you were grasping his shoulders but you couldn't even begin to think about it. Armin's warm breath tickling your lips in a soft chuckle. The tips of his fingers softly caressing your clit as you let out little whimpers of pleasure. 

"You promise you'll moan nice and loud for daddy's fingers?" He asked, closing the distance between your lips with a much slower kiss. 

"Yes." You could feel his nail brush inside and you almost buried his fingers but his harsh grip on your ass paused your movements. Your thighs shook and you rubbed your forehead against his. Leaned into his broad chest with both hands. "Please daddy.." 

"Good girl." 

With one more small kiss he laid you out flat on the bed free hand coming up to squeeze your areola. With a tap of your outer thigh you spread for him watching the way his spit dribbled off his lips and directly onto your already wet hole. The mixture making a much wetter sound as he pumped two fingers fully inside. 

With a gasp you yanked the sheets hard, almost squeezing your thighs together. His fingers curling, snatching your breath away. The bed creaked a little as he repositioned himself, stomach flat against the sheets with his mouth on your thighs. Spreading a soft array of little open mouthed kisses. 

"A-Armin.." 

"Keep your ankles in the air, love. I don't wanna punish you tonight." He breathed 

You sucked in a breath, reaching out to hold your ankles. Almost immediately you felt embarrassed by the high pitched moan that fell off your lips at the first long slide of his flat tongue over your pussy lips.

And then right in between them in a beckoning motion over your clit that had you biting into your lip. The smile on his lips so evident over your core. 

You lifted your head in time to watch the slow drip of more of his saliva stretch between your clit and his bottom lip. Tongue immediately outstretched with eyes drawn to your features as he lapped it back up again. 

With his free hand he spread apart your pussy lips a little further giving your clit an almost harsh knead with his thumb. The friction making you cry out and almost drop your legs onto his back. 

His fingers carefully slipped out of you to your own dismay. The slow drag against your walls almost painful, that is until his tongue was sliding in to replace them. Giving your inner walls a massage that made your gaze fall white. 

You felt him hum. Sweet vibrations flowing through your cunt as he slurped down every bit of your juices. His arms snaking around your legs to yank you so much closer as he pushed his tongue impossibly deeper. 

"Daddy.." You begged 

"Shh, keep moaning for me baby.." He hummed, flicking your clit with his thumb. 

You obeyed with an arch that probably could've launched you off the bed if not for Armin's tight hold. Your eyes squeezed shut, brain going completely empty. 

"Such a good girl." He breathed "So good for daddy." 

The pad of his tongue stretched over both sides of your lips with little nibbles. Sucking the skin into his mouth roughly. You could feel his eyes on you, practically see those bright blues pop with lust as he pressed his tongue back inside with languid thrusts. 

Your heartbeat pounded in your ear and you felt the hold he had on your legs loosen. His two fingers delving and sliding back into your warm fluttering cunt. The overwhelming pleasure forcing your hands back on the bed holding out for dear life. 

"Daddy.. daddy please.." You cried 

"Getting close baby?" When you nodded vigorously he smirked. "Come on baby almost there." He hummed 

He sped up his tongue, fingers stretching you open quickly adding another. Your breath caught with a high pitched cry that left tears  flowing over your cheeks. An endless chorus of his name flooding off your lips. His own moans sending vibrations through your core. 

Your stomach tightened, toes curling in the air as you tried and failed to steady your breathing. One of your hands unfurled itself from the sheets now sticking to your sweat soaked body. Carding it in the beautiful blond locks between your legs. 

"Baby.. baby I'm about to-" He sucked your clit into his mouth and your eyes went hazy, head falling back. 

"Finish baby, come on.." He whispered 

Your lips spewed curse words between every breath lost. When his fingers tapped smoothly against your g-spot you knew that was it for you. And with one last shudder you came around his fingers, screaming his name as your orgasm racked over you in a loud burst. 

And he licked up every drop, nose buried to collect it all like it was the best thing he'd ever tasted. 

"A-Armin.." You shuddered body flush and hazy. 

His fingers feel wet, a combination of your pussy juices and the sweat between both your bodies. You slowly blinked in the darkness combing strands of his hair back as your lips made contact. The mixture of your taste and his on your tongue, in an almost overwhelming way. 

You tensed under him. Hands stretching over every part of him you could reach only for him to back away a bit. With your nails still gently grazing over your back he pressed his damp forehead into yours, fingers sweeping over every bit of bare skin. 

With barely any warning he hoisted you to your feet next to the edge of the bed. And you reached out for his shoulders as he slipped his boxers down his legs. Inching himself back up to the headboard. 

"Take a seat." He gestures, laying back. 

He's got a hand around your waist in seconds. His cock soon just below you, so so close to where you wanted it. Where you needed it so badly. 

Your knees came down on both sides of him, carefully administering your weight evenly until every inch of his hot cock was stretching you open. His tip soon resting firmly against your cervix like it always did and you both relinquished a sweet gasp. 

"F-fuck.. so full.." You huffed 

It felt like it had been so long when in reality it'd probably only been a week. And yet you were moaning like you'd been starved of him. Rocking your hips like he'd punished you with no cock for months. 

Suddenly his arm wrapped itself around your waist again. He hoisted you up with a strong hold moaning directly in your ear as he thrusted up into you like it was the first time. His knees pressing your thighs open.

A hiss falling off your lips as he kissed over your shoulder and collar. Hands squeezing both your breasts like they were his personal stress balls. 

You hadn't been aware of how hard Armin was going until the rough knocks of the bed hitting the walls finally began to settle in your ear. But you could barely care Armin's cock was hitting every spot inside of you and your leg was starting to twitch where it was forced outward. 

His breath grew more ragged with every thrust. Sweat dripping off your forehead onto his. His sweet murmurs of praise turning you on even harder.

"Love, you take me so well.. You're doing so amazing…." He moaned 

You leaned your head into him, feeling that sweet familiarity deep in the pit of your stomach. You reached around to the back of his head, yanking a little rougher than intended on his scalp. 

The uneven slaps of your skin meeting managed to keep the two of you distracted  until the sound of the door practically slamming into the wall shook you both to a halt. 

Levi's dry sigh filled the once noisy bedroom. "Do you two have to make so much noise? I'm busy with a work project." 

Despite Levi's gripes Armin angled his cock back towards your g-spot barely grazing it but it was enough to force a little mewl from your lips. 

He laughed, pulling you a little closer. "Mm sorry Levi. Didn't know we were being so loud." 

There was a small glint in Levi's eyes. The quick dart of his pupils to where you and Armin were joined and then back up to your face putting a devious grin on your face. 

"You should take a break, daddy." You said 

"Tch." Levi huffed, "This thing needs to be done by tomorrow. I don't have time for this." 

You reached out for him with one arm. An arm that unsurprisingly didn't even reach close to him from his stance near the bedroom door. By this point Armin's thrusts were going at almost the same pace as before. Not as rough but enough to resume the gentle rock of the bed. 

You let out a soft moan as Levi took the bait, slowly walking over to the bed. His finger carding affectionately through your tousled hair. He leaned in, pecking your kiss swollen lips. 

If there was anything you knew for a fact about Levi it was that he always had a hard time saying no to you. 

To be completely honest it didn't surprise you that Levi was already more than a little hard. Though it did surprise you how easily he gave in today. Watching with unchanged expression as you pulled his belt from the loops and buckle, undoing it with a light clatter which quickly followed the almost inaudible sound of his zipper being pulled down.. 

You let out a relaxed hum, lip pressed between your teeth at the sight before you. His thick cock poking out over the hem of his underwear. You grasped at the sheets with one hand a little shaky as you slipped his boxers down over his ass until they pooled at his ankles. 

Armin slipped his hand under you right up against your stomach. Levi immediately followed suit already knowing what he was doing. He stepped over to the edge of the bed as Armin laid you down on your stomach. Levi's wet tip dangling in front of your lips. Before you could even register it Armin had your hips in the air slipping all the way back inside with a loud gasp. 

Meanwhile you were wetting your lips. Hand curving up and down the length of his dick. You inched forward on your elbows to slowly surround Levi's dick in the warm confines of your mouth. The hiss he let out sending shivers over your spine.

"How's it feel? I know how much you love taking two dicks." Levi grunted 

Armin reached forward, tugging your hips in close with one hand. The other hand on your ass as leverage. Allowing him to ease out to his tip before slamming back inside. Your eyes rolling back with pleasure. 

As if it wasn't already difficult enough to take Levi he wasn't even fully hard yet. Just expanding in your mouth as you coaxed your throat into relaxing enough to slide every thick inch down. 

"I know that pretty mouth can do so much better than this." He reaches out with zero warning to grab a fist full of your hair. Yanking you forward with barely any restraint. 

Though you must admit the sound that leaves his throat when he does is almost worth the tears pricking over your hollowed cheeks. 

"Baby I'm so fucking close.. I'm gonna fill your pussy." Armin sighs, his hand comes down to wrap around the base of your throat angling your mouth into Levi's rough thrusts. 

Your heart is hammering but you close your mouth as best as possible without biting to take Levi's cock. Already feeling the effects on your jaw as he presses in a little harder with a deep moan. 

By now his cock is fully hard rocking you back into Armin with deep rough thrusts that almost make you gag. 

"That's my g-irl.." Levi grunts, even though they're small his nails dig into your scalp so roughly you could swear you felt something trickling down to the back of your neck. 

You grip the bed sheets with both your toes and fingers, the creaking around you unmistakable. 

"I'm cumming.. I'm cumming!" Armin cries out and you'd honestly give anything to see his gorgeous blue eyes roll back and the little smile that curves against his lips as he climaxes. 

You finish just a couple seconds ahead of him. Eyes unfocused where they roll into shut. Little sounds muffled by the thick dick stretching open your throat. The feeling of Armin's cum flooding your walls makes you whimper and he lets out the softest moan as his orgasm slowly whittles away. 

Your gaze soon fixes on Levi only to be met with the prettiest tint of pink brushed right up against his cheeks. His eyes pressed tightly closed, lips parted over every harsh breath. 

It didn't take long for the sweet drag of Armin's cock to begin again. His light touches to your spine making you arch a little higher. 

"You look so fucking pretty, you know that?" Armin mummered, cock slamming into your g-spot. "Doesn't she look gorgeous, Levi?" He asked with a little whimper. 

Levi's eyes fluttered open a hint of a smirk cresting on his lips. "Like she's gonna.. pass out.." He combed your hair back again gripping it a little tighter forcing your head up. He paused at the back of your throat. "Can't take it baby? Want me to pull out?" 

You grunted at every slam of Levi's dick until that all too familiar sound flooded your ears, followed by almost every curse in the english language. 

"You're doing so well.. f-uck.." He moaned "Swallow my cum.. swallow it. I'm almost there.." 

Levi hoisted his leg up against the already shaky foot of the bed using as much leverage as possible. His fingers tugging your head forward on every pump of his thick cock. Mixing with the loud gasps of Armin behind you as he also neared his end. 

And with one more deep thrust Levi was spilling down your throat with a choked groan. Cock head nestled deep in your tired throat holding you still as his orgasm flooded from his body. 

You were a little relieved when he stepped back allowing your jaw to relax. The still wet tip pressing sweetly against your lips. 

"Such a pretty girl.." He said, so low you thought you imagined it. 

"Switch with me." You heard Armin say 

You sighed as his cock left you, feeling yourself immediately being flipped onto your back. His large hands coming down from where he now stood over you to perfectly envelop your breasts. Meanwhile Levi was pulling your hips close and sliding in as effortlessly as he always did. 

"Levi!" You threw your head back 

Armin smirked over you, his hands kneading a little rougher. You arched into his touch pressing the balls of your heels into Levi's back, pushing him just a little deeper- 

God it was perfect. The feeling of his dick so much different from Armin's but honestly just as perfect. The moan you let out was downright pornographic and you pressed your head back into Armin's thigh. 

One of Armin's hands came up to your face brushing aside your hair soaked in tears. "You look perfect. But I wanna make you more perfect." 

He pulled himself off the bed, sliding a hand over your cheek. "I wanna paint your face baby. It's so perfect.." He mumbled already pumping his long dick over your face. "You'll let me right.." He whimpered 

When he leaned in again it was to press a little kiss to your lips. "P-please.." 

The curve of his lips made your heart flutter in your chest. "Mm.. let Levi see when I'm finished." 

One of Armin's hands sat rather aggressively on the edge of the bed. And you could see the way every vein in his hand moved. Grip tightening a little with every pump of his cock, back and forth his knuckles practically ripping through his skin. 

You gasped as Levi leaned over you, fat cock pressing into your G-spot. "Stop ignoring me." He grunted 

He slid his teeth beneath your earlobe administering a barrage of sweet nibbles mixed with more aggravated bites. 

"Levi.. Levi!!" 

Armin gasped above you, "Almost there.." He moaned 

A bright white was starting to take over your vision as you shut your eyes, mouth hung open for Armin's cock with absolutely no sound coming out as Levi continued to use your tired pussy. 

Small huffs of fuck littering the air. You bore your nails into Levi's back and chest. His leg shaking against you as he pushed through his last thrusts. 

"I-I'm.. I- shit!" Armin came first, missing Levi's head by a hair (literally) as ropes of hot cum plopped onto your face, you barely registering it as your own orgasm hit you like a two ton truck. Levi's thumb coaxing small spasms from you through your clit. 

Levi huffed, face scrunched, lip bitten and eyes shut as he came for the second time with a hard gasp. 

The room went quiet for what couldn't have been any longer than 2 minutes before Armin was pulling himself up from where he'd slumped over the bed. 

"Levi, look how sexy she looks with my cum all over her face." He cooed 

It stuck to your eyelids as you blinked though ultimately chose to keep your eyes shut. You felt Levi's small chuckle and the brief feeling of him slipping out of you to your own disappointment.

"Open baby." Armin said 

As soon as you did his fingers slipped into your mouth. The salty/sweet residue of his cum littering your tongue. Quickly joined by Levi who swiped his thumb across your eyelids before pressing it into your mouth. 

"How're you feeling?" Armin asked as you opened your eyes slowly. 

You blinked in their faces standing above you with a small smile. "Tired." 

"You can't sleep until you've washed off. It'll be better for you anyway." Levi replied, heading into the bathroom. 

Armin quickly followed after carefully lifting your fatigued body off the bed. It took a couple minutes for Levi to get the temperature to perfect but once he did you slowly felt yourself sinking into perfectly warm water. 

The soreness in every part of your body already beginning to dissipate as you leaned back against the edge of the tub. 

"We did a number on you hmm?" Armin asked, carding your hair back. 

"I'll make you some tea once you're cleaned up. Then we can cuddle under your favorite blanket." Levi said 

"Thank you guys but I feel like I could fall asleep here." You say lifting your thighs for Levi to clean under. 

"I promise I'll pay you back big time tomorrow." Armin replied, rubbing your arm with soap. 

Your lips curled up deviously, "Now that I look forward to." You grab his chin pulling him into you, pecking his lips. 

[fanficimagery]

A Fangy Fetish

Imagine finally coming home to your family, only to realize there's something other about your little brother and his friends. But that's okay because you're not exactly the same as you were when you first left either. It's a surprising change, but one you're more than okay with after meeting Peter Hale.

Trigger Warnings: Brief conversation about death, an abusive relationship and a brief scene of spiking one's drink.  Author’s Note: Pls don’t ask about the title. I don’t know what the fuck I was thinking XD

Passing up the welcome sign to Beacon Hills should fill you with glee since it's been forever that you've seen your mom and brother, but it merely makes you squirm in your seat since there was a good reason you had stayed away in the first place. And now- now you're meeting with them for the first time since you've changed and you're not sure how it should make you feel.

Your mom hasn't moved from your childhood home and as far as you knew your brother didn't have plans to move out until he had completed vet school, so it's not too hard to track them down. There's no vehicle in the driveway, but the opened curtains to the front windows showcase flickering lights from a TV being cast against the wall. Then cutting the engine, you tuck your hair behind your left ear and angle your ear towards the house to listen. After zoning out various noises, you can hear a TV show playing and your mother's familiar voice muttering obscenities when she sees something she doesn't agree with. There's no other voices or heartbeats so you figure your brother must be out.

Exhaling a nervous sigh, you pull down the visor and check your reflection in the small mirror being lit up by two small lights on either side of it. Then after making sure there's nothing on your face or at the corner of your eyes and mouth, you push the visor back up and then make your way out of the car. Walking up the steps to the front path and then the front path to the house porch, you nervously close the distance to the front door. You hesitate only a second before pressing the doorbell and then step back as you hear your mother pause her show and get up to see who it is.

The door opens and you can't help but smile when you see realization set in and Melissa McCall's eyes widen. "Y/N?"

"Hey, mom."

"Oh my god. Sweetheart!" She closes the distance between the two of you, arms wrapping tightly around you as you laugh and return her embrace. "Why didn't you tell me you were coming?"

"It was a split second decision," you tell her, letting her pull back and look you up and down to make sure you're really there. "Then I figured a surprise was in order."

She practically beams. "Come on. Come in," she says. "Oh I can't wait until Scott gets home. He's going to be so happy."

"Yeah, I can't wait to see Scotty either. It's been way too long."

Following your mom, you warily eye the doorway before stepping inside and the various scents of your childhood home make your chest ache with memories you had pushed to the back of your mind. Everything still smells familiar, even if there is a new underlying scent that makes you a little anxious and nose twitch.

"So what have you been up to?" She asks. The two of you settle in the living room and she's quick to turn off the TV in order to give you her full attention. "Catch me up."

"Well," you nervously chuckle, "there's not much to tell. School and work have kept me busy, and then there was this guy-"

"A boy?!" She gasps. "Tell me more."

"For a year," you tell her, your smile faltering. "I was with him for a year when I finally realized our relationship wasn't exactly healthy. The break was pretty amicable, but my trust in him was completely broken."

Melissa's mood immediately drops. "Oh sweetheart, I'm so sorry."

"It's fine. I'm okay now." Your mom looks so heartbroken all of a sudden that you can't help but scoot closer and pull her into a hug again. "Don't be sad," you chuckle. "It's part of growing up. If I didn't go through some stuff, I wouldn't be the person I am today. And let me tell you, I really like the person I am now."

Your mom sniffles. "Well if you're happy.."

"More than," you assure her. "I mean, I could probably use a little more fun between the sheets, but-"

"Y/N!" Melissa pulls back, shock etched into her features. "I am still your mother, young lady."

You burst out laughing, quickly leaning in to peck your mother's cheek. "I know, mom. Just wanted you to stop being sad. It worked."

A moment passes and her shoulders sag. She starts to laugh with you and you're so distracted by cheering her up that you don't hear the car parking outside or the steady heartbeat getting closer and closer. It's only when the front door opens that you freeze, your mom's smile widening.

"Hey, mom, whose car is out front?" Scott rounds the corner and you're surprised at how much your little brother has grown. He stares at you, eyes widening, before a very familiar and very missed crooked smile overtakes his features. "Y/N!"

You're laughing again as Scott practically rushes you, his arms tight around you in a welcoming embrace. He's warm, like really warm, and he has a very distinctive earthly smell. But that can't be right because as far as you knew the werewolf gene did not run in your family's DNA.

"What are you doing here?" Scott asks, squeezing you one last time before letting you go and then putting you at arm's length to look you up and down. He looks between you and your mom, smiling the entire time.

"Thought it was about time I came over for a visit." You shrug. "School is on break and my boss said I needed to cash in my vacation days or I'd lose them."

"I don't even know your boss, but I already love him. If he made you come home, he's okay in my books."

You chuckle, punching Scott lightly on the arm. You open your mouth to reply, but a frantic beeping reaches your ears. You and Scott look at your mom when she frowns, she then walking over towards the kitchen and picking up a beeper. She sighs and looks towards you and your brother, apologetically. "It's the hospital."

"Say no more," you tell her.

"Don't worry. Stiles will be stoked to see Y/N so we'll keep her busy for a while."

"Stiles?" You slowly smirk. "He still a little heathen?"

"Worse." Melissa snorts. "So much worse."

As Melissa gets ready for a shift that has been passed on to her, Scott convinces you to go surprise Stiles who's in town for the week. He hasn't stopped smiling the entire time he's set eyes on you, but every now and then you see his expression falter as he stares curiously at you before shaking off whatever it is and going back to his happy self.

The three of you head outside, you and Scott promising Melissa to be home in time for some breakfast before watching her drive off. You and Scott then climb into your own car, and he happily directs you towards the outskirts of town to a seemingly abandoned building.

"What is this place?" You ask, turning off your car and then climbing out.

"An apartment building. Friend of a friend likes his privacy so he bought the building. The only occupied portion of it is the loft at the very top."

"Nice," you quietly muse as you follow after him. But very quickly you come to a certain realization and stumble to a halt. "So he owns the entire building? Privately?"

"Well yeah," Scott says. "Why?"

"Oh no reason." You try to play it off, nonchalant. "I just- I rather not barge in without meeting the guy. Walking in uninvited is bad manners."

Your brother huffs. "It's just Derek. He won't care."

"Yeah, but I will."

Digging your heels in on this, Scott sighs. "Seriously, Y/N. Derek won't mind. You can wait down here all you want, but Derek won't waste his time coming down here just to tell you to come in."

"Can't you call him?"

Seeing your pout, Scott rolls his eyes but the amused little smile doesn't go missed. "Sure. Fine." He pulls out his phone and quickly presses the contact he's looking for. Phone then put on speaker, you flash him a small smile in gratitude.

"What do you want, McCall?"

"So I have a friend down here with me and she's really adamant that she gets an invite from you before we head upstairs. She says it's bad manners to just walk on in."

The guy scoffs. "Whatever. Come in."

Well that should do it. Hopefully.

"Happy now?" Scott puts his phone away after the call is abruptly ended and leads the way inside. "Now hurry up. I wanna see Stiles flip out." You follow him, briefly hesitating at the main door before exhaling silently in relief when you're permitted entry.

The metal, cage-like elevator gives you pause, but Scott promises it works just fine. So after settling inside and vowing to kill him if the elevator fails and falls, Scott presses the button for the loft at the very top of the building. Once stopped, you're then led towards a sliding metal door which Scott readily opens. Again you hesitate, but cross the threshold with no problem.

There are two men in the loft, one whose movements are very familiar and brings a smile to your face. The other one, the one with the dark hair and scruff, well it looks like he's scenting the air until his hardened gaze lands on you. But Stiles, who'd been preoccupied by tell him a story, immediately ceases talking to see what the problem is. And when his gaze lands on you, his jaw drops open and you can't help but snort.

"Holy shit. Y/N?"

"Goddamn, Stilinski," you muse. "You grew up in all the right places." Scott groans and you laugh when Stiles' awed expression turns a bit smug. From one second to the next he's moving and making a beeline for you, the two of you colliding in a hug which he rocks you side to side in. "It's nice to see you too, Stiles."

"How long are you here for? Dad will be happy to see you."

"Two weeks," you tell him as he pulls away. "And I can't wait to see Noah. It's been ages."

"I'm all for reunions," the guy who you're assuming is Derek says, "but why the hell would you guys let me invite a vampire into my home?"

Scott scoffs, Stiles freezes, and you frown at the new guy. This was not how you wanted the news broken to Scott. Your moment of anger, however, is overridden by the fact that there's no immediate denial of the supernatural from either your brother or his best friend.

"My sister isn't-"

"What are you?" You ask, cutting Scott off, glaring at Derek. "You smell wolfish, but so does my brother. Last I knew there was no wolf gene in our family line."

"Y/N, what?" Scott then asks. "You're not- tell him you're not a vampire."

Your gaze slides to Scott and you smile sadly at him. "I'm sorry. I can't do that." He tenses and Stiles takes a few steps back, and your heart breaks. "I promise to explain everything here in a bit, but tell me what's going on. Please. You don't smell human, Scotty, and neither does Eyebrows over there."

Scott gulps and nods, eyes filling with tears that refuse to fall. "Derek Hale comes from a family of werewolves. I'm sure you remember the Hale family before you left for college." There's a huff and you warily eye Derek as he rolls his eyes. Scott clears his throat and continues. "At the start of my sophomore year, I was bitten by a rogue alpha. I turned."

"Huh. I've never met a wolf that could turn someone with a bite."

"Never met a-" Stiles starts, only to stop and redirect his line of thoughts. "Wait, there are other types of werewolves?"

You shrug. "Well, yeah."

Stiles opens his mouth to retort, but Derek is quick to shut him down. "You can get your supernatural fix later, Stiles. Right now, Scott's sister has some explaining to do." By now he's nearly shoulder to shoulder with Stiles, arms crossed over his chest as he stares at you.

The guy's gruff, but since he's not outright threatening you, you don't get defensive. "Um, I died about two years ago."

"You died?!" Both Scott and Stiles yelp.

Your lips press into a thin line as you nod. Scott frowns. "Two years ago is when you stopped coming home to visit."

"I-I had to." You glance at your brother as the first tear falls, but you're quick to wipe it away. "About a year prior to dying, I fell in love with a local. Everything was fine. I was happy," you say. "But as the months passed, I started to realize that there were blank spots in my memories. Some days I'd wake up with bruises I couldn't explain or wake up completely exhausted to the point that I couldn't get out of bed. No one, other than myself, realized something was wrong."

"What happened?" Scott quietly asks.

You sniffle, smiling sadly. "My boyfriend. He was a vampire, only I didn't know it until I was one myself."

"Why only after? Surely you could tell something was up when you were with him," Stiles says.

You shake your head, but it's Derek who says. "Vampires can manipulate the mind. It's one reason my mom wasn't very trusting of them."

"He's right. Our kind can compel people- make them forget something happened or plant memories that never existed," you admit. "As it so happened, my boyfriend was feeding off of me without my consent. And when he took too much, I would pass out and then wake up extremely weakened without a clue as to why. Most of the time he compelled me to think that I was fine- that nothing was wrong with me."

"How'd you figure it all out?" Your brother wonders.

You exhale softly. "I went out partying with some friends. On our way back, my friend lost control of the car and slammed into a tree. I died, but I died with vampire blood in my system." All three guys shift uneasily of learning about the ingested blood, so you quickly explain how it got there in the first place. "When my boyfriend was too rough with me, he'd feed me his blood since vampire blood has healing capabilities. The only downfall of ingesting vampire blood is that if you die while it's still lingering in your system, you wake up in transition."

"Which means you had to feed on human blood," Derek says.

"Yes." Stiles and Scott grimace. "I had woken up in the hospital morgue and found my way to the blood bank. It was- it was a clusterfuck," you admit smally. "I gorged, I cried, and I unknowingly compelled the doctors to make them think that I was fine and then fled the hospital as soon as I could. Fortunately for me, there was another vampire at school. When she realized I was newly turned and I told her what I knew, she felt sorry for me. And since I was a vampire myself now, all my compelled memories started to rush back. She helped me break up with my vampire boyfriend and then took me under her wing. She taught me how to control the bloodlust and introduced me to a witch who made me a piece of daylight jewelry so I'd be able to walk in the sun."

Scott and Stiles appear floored by your story, but it's Derek whose expression has yet to falter. "I have one question," he says. You nod, waiting. "Are you here to cause drama for Beacon Hills?"

"No. Never," you immediately answer him. "I honestly just came for mom and Scott. I didn't expect any supernatural to be here at all or even that my baby brother was part of it now too."

"Okay then." His stern expression briefly falters so he flashes a quick smile. "Then welcome home, I guess."

You huff a quiet laugh. "Thanks. I'm Y/N, by the way. Scott's older sister."

"Derek Hale, co-alpha to the McCall/Hale pack."

"Co-alpha, huh. Does that mean," you trail off and glance at your brother, smiling when his eyes flash red at you. "Cool. The werewolves I know can't do that. They're really only dangerous when they've transformed under a full moon. Other than that, they're as human as can be."

"I have so many questions," Stiles muses.

Derek huffs in amusement. "Don't bother. We have books on other breeds of the same species. I just never brought them out because, until now, vampires never stepped foot in Beacon Hills and we didn't have to worry about other breeds of werewolves." He turns and walks back to a metal table where various books are opened, and busies himself by browsing the pages. Stiles is quick to follow after him and pester him about these so-called books.

Scott steps closer to you, hands tucked into the front pockets of his jeans as he smiles sheepishly. "So you're fine?" He wonders. "You're not gonna fang out and drain us of our blood?"

"What?" You snort. "No. If I wanted to drain you or anyone else, I'd have done it when everyone was hugging me and my mouth was literal inches from your throats. I'm fine. You guys have nothing to worry about."

"But you drink blood?"

"I do, although I tend to stick to blood bags from a hospital. If I drink straight from the vein, I only take enough to soothe the thirst and then quickly compel the person to eat a snack or go home and nap."

"Have you ever killed anyone?"

You pause. Scott stares at you, and even Derek and Stiles go eerily quiet after the question. You sigh. "Does it matter?" Scott shrugs and you hate you have to admit this. "Yes. My first victim was an accident. It happened when my friend was teaching me how to feed properly and I lost control. It happened twice more, but I was able to save those two individuals before their hearts stopped."

"Any on purpose?" Derek asks from his side of the room.

"A few." You gulp. "The moment a hunter learns you're a vampire, you're apparently fair game. If I have to take a life to keep my own, I will. Dying is not fun and I don't plan on doing it again any time soon." You notice Scott frowns at your answer, but Derek and Stiles hum before accepting your answer as appropriate. And not wanting to get into a discussion of right or wrong, you paste on a smile and change the subject. "So anyway, what else have I missed? Any girlfriends I should know about? Or boyfriends? I don't judge."

Derek snorts and Scott flashes you a crooked smile. "Actually, yeah. My girlfriend and Derek's are out right now buying some stuff to throw a party."

"Oohhh. Do these girlfriends have names?"

"Yeah. Malia and Kira," Stiles says. "Malia's my ex-girlfriend and Derek's long lost cousin, but now she's Scott's girlfriend. And Kira is Scott's ex-girlfriend who is now Derek's girlfriend."

"That is.. weird," you say, chuckling softly. "But cool, I guess, if you guys seem to have no problem with it."

"We're all pack," Scott tells you. "We're more than fine with it."

"And I'm actually dating Lydia Martin," Stiles says, "but she's super busy with school which is why she's not here."

"Lydia Martin?" Your nose wrinkles. "Snooty Martin?"

"Hey!" Stiles quickly reprimands you. "She's not so bad anymore. Not after finding out she was a banshee."

"Hold up. What?"

"Yeah. Lydia's a banshee." He shrugs. "Kira's a kitsune and Malia's a werecoyote."

"Holy shit. What the hell has Beacon Hills come to?"

"That's nothing," Derek says. "If you had been here all along, you'd have seen a lot more than just that. Beacon Hills is a beacon for crazy."

"Yeah. No shit."

What little tension that had been lingering finally vanishes and everyone shares a friendly laugh. But when a newcomer enters the apartment, it has your hackles rising.

"Ugh. Who let a bloodsucking fiend in?"

The elder gentleman that enters is rather attractive, but the scowl he's directing in your direction leaves you scowling back. "Aren't you a little old to be wearing v-necks?"

"And aren't you a little new to be taunting the big bad wolf?"

You hiss. "Do we like this guy?"

Without missing a beat, Derek says, "On occasion."

"Good." Then before anyone can blink, you use your vampiric speed to appear inches from the newcomer, grab him by the throat and pin him to the floor. Stiles and Scott yelp at your sudden movements, but you pay them no mind as you snarl in the wolf's face. "You don't wanna get on my bad side."

The wolf blinks in surprise and everyone seems to hold their breath. You see movement out of the corner of your eye, but since it's slow you don't bother to act on it. Instead, fingers gently touch your face before a thumb brushes on the underside of your left eye where you know small black veins are pulsing. "Beautiful."

You freeze and slowly ease up on the wolf. "What?"

He smirks. "If you wanted me on my back, sweetheart, all you had to do was ask." Derek, Stiles and Scott all groan. "Peter Hale, at your service."

"Y/N McCall," you hesitantly introduce yourself. Climbing off of him and steadily walking on your own two feet, you can't help but knock him down a peg when you see his expression. "And don't look too smug. The other Hale is hotter."

Meeting Malia and Kira was rather interesting, especially when you saw what they were face to face rather than just hearing about it. Seeing Scott and Malia shift almost left you speechless, but seeing Kira left you in complete awe. They had then asked to see you and Malia was the only one to not balk or make some sort of disgusted facial expression when you mentioned needed a bag of blood soon.

Over the next couple of days, Scott manages to convince you to explain to your mom about your new status as a vampire, as well as Noah Stilinski since both of them knew about the supernatural. And since Noah was like a father figure, you, Scott and Stiles got them together for a family dinner where you told them your story. Noah was angry and your mother was heartbroken, but both accepted you with open arms.

Being with your family and your brother's pack brings you a sense of calm that you haven't felt in a long while. You're easily accepted without question and it's like you've known everyone your entire life with how easily they talk with you. Peter, however, is a completely different story. While he's friendly, just like everyone else, he's a little too friendly. You were more than ready to return the teasing innuendos, but then Scott had to burst your bubble by telling you that he was Malia's biological father. Malia, however, is quick to assure you that she and Peter have a rocky relationship and that she doesn't care who Peter chooses to show affection to so long as she didn't have to see it or hear it.

You were hesitant to be so carefree and teasing with Peter afterwards, but the recent lack of male attention had you caving before the week was even over.

"So what happens if your daylight necklace is ripped off?" Stiles asks. It's now Saturday afternoon and everyone is at Derek's, making sure the loft is party ready for later that night. "Do you just burst into flames right then and there?"

"No." You snort. "It starts off as a sizzle and you have seconds to flee to the shadows before bursting into flames." Malia helps you position a keg into a large metal bin, Kira then filling the empty space around it with ice. "And my necklace is spelled. No one other than myself can remove it so I don't have to worry about someone ripping it off."

"I'm not gonna lie, I kind of want to see you burst into flames."

"You're an asshole."

"Actually, I kind of want to see it too," Malia says.

Stiles beams, pointing at Malia and nodding. "See! I'm not the only one."

You glance at Kira and she sheepishly smiles, not even attempting to deter her pack mates who want to see you purposely set yourself on fire. A moment passes before you sigh. "Fine, but you better get me a blood bag or I'm sinking fang into someone's vein."

Stiles is quick to scramble for the kitchen, no doubt making a beeline for one of the few blood bags Derek had tossed into the back of his fridge. You groan but chuckle nonetheless as you look around for the perfect spot and then find it in the corner of the loft just right by the overly large windows. Then settling in the corner with your back against the brick wall, you exhale deeply before carefully reaching behind your neck to unclasp your necklace. Grimacing, you look forward and hold your necklace out for someone to grab. Kira hurriedly steps forward and takes your necklace with gentle hands.

"Jesus Christ. I can't believe I'm doing this." You shakily raise your arm, hand reaching towards the sun rays before your fingers curl into a fist. You sigh, nervously chuckling as you shake your hand out. "Okay. I can do this. It's just a little fire and then I'll heal."

Stiles, Malia and Kira are all eerily silent as they watch you. You're grimacing before the sunlight even touches you and then your whole face is scrunching up when you feel the sizzle before hearing it. Kira gasps and your eyes don't even have to be open to know what they're seeing. Unblemished skin darkening before slowly glowing like burning embers. Seconds later the smoke starts and against your better judgment you hold your ground. At least until you feel your hand igniting in flames and then you're quickly bringing your arm close to your body and patting the fire out.

"Ow, ow, ow." You utter. "Fuck! Give me the blood!"

Stiles is staring at you, wide-eyed, before Malia rolls her eyes and grabs the blood bag from his hands to toss at you. Catching it with one hand, you nod at the werecoyote before dropping fang and biting directly into the bag. At that, Stiles gags. "I don't think I'll ever get used to that."

Pulling your fangs from your snack, you mutter, "Pussy," and then go back to draining the bag.

Stiles gasps in mock offense as the girls chuckle. Your hand had immediately healed after your first gulp, but you drain the bag anyway since you're going to be around a lot of strangers later on.

The loft door slides open and immediately all three wolves wrinkle their noses.

"Why does it smell like burning flesh?" Peter asks. No one says anything, but their eyes slide to you knowingly. You sheepishly smile as you hide the blood bag behind your back. Peter's eyes narrow. "What did you do?"

The heaviness of all their stares makes you squirm. "It was Stiles' idea!"

"Hey!" He barks. "Don't forget about Malia and Kira." Both girls frown at him in betrayal, but he merely shrugs in return. "If I'm going down, I'm taking all of you with me."

All three werewolves sigh, rolling their eyes. Scott and Derek bring in the delicate black lights that need to be fixated around the loft, and the buckets of neon paints. Peter drops whatever was in the brown paper bags he was holding and then saunters towards you. He spots Kira holding your necklace and snatches it from her hands. You subconsciously press your back into the corner, but Peter merely smirks as he unclasps the necklace in his hands and holds it out, waiting to place it around your neck.

"Come on, sweetheart. We don't have all day." Your eyes narrow at his teasing smile and you step towards him so he can put your necklace back on. And since you're facing him, refusing to give him your back, he reaches around you to clasp the necklace at the back of your neck. Then letting it settle against your throat, he untucks your hair from the chain and then gently cusps the sides of your neck in his hands while his thumbs brush along your jawline. His smile drops. "Don't do that again. If Stiles wants to see a fire, let the moron set himself ablaze."

"Hey! I heard that."

You blink in surprise at Peter before he takes his leave, only to see the subtly surprised expression Derek is sporting and the sour expression your brother can't help but show. Malia is indifferent to the exchange, Kira looks rather amused, and Stiles is just put out because he was called a moron. Nothing else is said on the matter, so you quickly flee the corner of shadows and get back to work.

          - - - - - - - - - -

The party has only just begun by the time you send Malia and Kira on their way. You had painted both their faces with wolf-like features- Malia in blue and Kira in orange. You had also painted markings along their collar bones, and swirls and floral patterns up and down their arms. They were prepared to wait for you, but you insisted they head on out and that you'd join them soon enough.

You're left alone in Derek's bathroom, bowls of paint and paintbrushes scattered along the counter top as you determine what you want. Eventually you settle for neon green skeletal features, jagged teeth painted over your lips. You outline your neck and collar bones, and then stand there while you fan yourself so the paint will dry.

The faint sound of creaking catches your attention and you immediately glance towards the doorway. Peter stands there, leaning against the door jamb. "Love the handiwork," he says. "Are you taking any requests?"

You faintly grin at him. "No because then that puts the pressure on me to give you exactly what you want. But if you want me to paint you a surprise, then I'm your girl."

"Hmm. My girl. I think I like the sound of that."

"Of course you do." Your eyes roll, but the quirk of your lips tells him you're amused rather than annoyed. "Now get in here. I'll try and make it quick." Peter pushes off the door jamb and walks in, getting up close and personal to your back. You think he's trying to make you squirm, but you merely frown when you realize just how much taller he is than you when you stare at him in the reflection of the mirror. "Well this isn't going to work," you mutter. Pushing the bowls of paint and paint brushes aside, you turn around and hop onto the counter. "There. That's better."

"So much," he says while stepping into the space between your knees.

Snorting, you let the remark slide and grab his face in your hands. Turning his face this way and that way, you hum as you determine what you're going to paint for him. "Wanna match?" You ask. Then without giving him a chance to answer, you grab the bowl with green paint and a paintbrush. "We're gonna match, but you're only getting half a face because I really need to get out there and dance."

Peter fights off a smile as you grasp his chin with one hand and then quickly dip a paintbrush into the green paint with the other. The moment the loaded brush touches the center of his forehead, however, he schools his features so you have an unwrinkled canvas. The left side of his face gets the skeletal treatment, but when that's done you can't help but dip three fingers into purple paint and drag them down the unpainted side of his face.

He grins afterward. "Does this mean I can mark you back?"

"I don't see why not. Just nothing on my face."

Peter carefully coats his entire hand in pink before he looks at you, eyes darting up and down as he determines where he's going to mark. He smirks and then gently wraps his hand around your throat. He leaves it there, squeezing just so, and you gulp beneath his hand.

"Ooohh. Don't threaten me with a fun time." His eyes flare blue in response and you can feel your own eyes change in return as he drops his hand and slowly leans in. You put a hand on his chest to stop his progression. "Seriously, Hale. If you mess up all my hard work before anyone has a chance to see it, I will rip your jugular out."

Peter growls and you quickly lean in to snap your fangs right in front of his face. He shudders and you chuckle lowly before nudging him back and hopping off the counter. After all, you had a party to attend.

          - - - - - - - - - -

The party has a bit more people than you'd expected there to be and even Derek seems a bit surly over how any people are in his home. But the DJ is amazing, the drinks are flowing, and the strobe lights are flashing in tune with the beats.

Everyone is lit up, whether it be their clothing or because of the paint, and you readily slide into the dancing masses. You don't seek out anyone in particular, choosing to dance on your own or anyone who sidles up to you in order to have a good time. But the second they get too handsy for your liking, you're shoving them off and moving on.

You're dancing, swiveling your hips and laughing with a few females who were all too happy to have you join them. You turn around, putting the girls at your back when your hands slide up your neck to gather your hair and hold it up off your neck before letting it fall once more. Your eyes somehow manage to find Peter, but the once teasing wolf looks anything but teasing. In fact, he looks rather pissed. And that- that just won't do.

Pushing through the bodies, you eventually make your way towards Peter from behind and tiptoe so your chin hooks over his shoulder. "So who are we killing?" You muse.

He tenses, but upon realizing who it is he's quick to relax. And without missing a beat, he says, "Two o'clock. Apparently this young man, if you can even call him that, has made the mistake of spiking a drink in hopes of giving it to one of the young ladies here. Fortunately, every female he's tried to pawn it off on has been smart enough to not take the pre-made drink."

His words immediately sour your mood. "Well that just won't do."

Before Peter can stop you, you're falling back onto the balls of your feet and practically skipping towards the guy Peter had been murdering with his eyes. A smile here, a touch there, and whispered promises of a good time goes a very long way and it doesn't take long to have the guy following after you. Then as you're about to pass up Peter with Troy (that was the guy's name, the one who was looking to roofie some poor innocent soul) following you, you flash Peter a wink and mutter follow me just loud enough so that he could hear.

You manage to avoid the rest of the pack as you lead Troy out of the loft and into the hallway, manhandling the all too eager dude-bro against the wall. He's a pretty decent looking dude, but his smug aura and tendency to roofie his potential hook-ups is a major turn off. So you tease him with a pretty smile, leaning in so your lips are just centimeters apart.

"Forgive me. I hope I'm not interrupting."

You pull back, turning half way and grinning at the intruder. There stands Peter, looking like he's not sorry at all. But Troy- Troy is annoyed. "Fuck off, man."

"Well that's no way to talk to your betters," Peter drawls.

"Yeah I gotta admit," you say. "That was a dick thing to say."

Troy glances between you and Peter, scoffing. "Whatever. I can find another girl to get laid by back in the party."

He goes to push off the wall, nudging you out of the way, but your hand lands in the middle of his chest before shoving him back into the wall. "I think not." Then meeting his gaze, you smile cruelly as you say, "Do not make a sound."

Troy's mouth opens as if to tell you off, but not a peep comes out. His eyes widen and Peter chuckles as he saunters towards you. "Huh. Having a vampire around could come in handy."

"So says the werewolf," you muse. Troy struggles against your hand, but he's not going anywhere. Not even when he raises a hand to strike you because Peter reaches out with lightning quick reflexes and catches his wrist. You smirk before looking at Troy. "Now that wasn't very nice. I was just going to let you go after scaring you a bit, but now.."

"Now," Peter says, "I think it's time we give you a taste of your own medicine. Let you know how it feels to have something taken from you without your consent." Troy's eyes widen even more while you and Peter snicker at the spike of fear in his scent. "Y/N, will you do the honors?"

"With pleasure." You stare at Troy, willing your features to change right before his very eyes and hissing when your fangs elongate. He renews his struggle in order to get away, but with your strength and Peter's he's going anywhere. "Now this is going to hurt like hell," you coo. "I want you to feel the fear of every girl you ever roofied just so you could get your dick wet."

Your smiling façade drops as you snarl, opening your mouth wider as your head rears back before you lunge forward and sink your teeth into Troy's neck. You feel him stiffen in pain, struggling even more to get away as you harshly drain his life's essence through the wound in his neck. But the second you feel his struggle lessen, you pull back and lick the corners of your mouth.

Peter chuckles darkly as you pat Troy on his cheeks. "Perk up some, will 'ya? I hardly drained an artery."

"Uh, sweetheart? I don't think he can talk."

"Oh. Right!" Catching Troy's gaze once more, you say, "You can make sound again, but you're never going to speak about what just happened. You're going to forget that monsters exist. All you need to know that if you ever see my face or his face again," you compel him while gesturing to Peter who's now standing over your shoulder, "then you're going to remember something terrible happened but you're not quite sure what. You'll just be deathly afraid. Do you understand?"

"I understand."

"Good. Also, you're never going to spike another drink ever again. If you ever just THINK about taking anything without the person's consent, you're going to get violently ill and remember the pain in your neck from when I sunk my teeth into it. Got it?"

"Y-Yes."

"Awesome! Now, run along. You're no longer welcomed here."

Troy blinks rapidly, his mind clearing briefly as the compulsion sets in. When he sees you again, and then Peter at your back, his eyes widen before he scrambles to the side and rushes for the elevator. You laugh and wiggle your fingers in a mocking wave. Then the moment he's in Derek's death trap of an elevator and is descending, Peter's crowding you against the wall as he dips down so his hands can grab the back of your thighs and lift you up.

Your legs automatically wrap around his waist and you have a split second of being surprised before his mouth is pressing against yours, tongue licking into your mouth a couple of times, teasing yours, before teeth pull on your bottom lip as he retreats. You groan, hands finding purchase on his shoulders before sliding back and up, and settling at the nape of his neck. "So, uh, violence really does it for 'ya. Huh?"

"You have no idea." Peter leans in once more, nose brushing against yours and leaving you anticipating his next bruising kiss, but he merely presses his lips softly against yours. You whimper and he smirks. "Now, now. Patience is a virtue." You growl and he chuckles. "Trust me. The last thing we need is to get carried away in the hall and-"

"Oh gross. Seriously, you guys!?"

Peter sighs as you jolt in his hold. You're already staring wide-eyed at your brother, so Peter slowly lets you down before bringing you into his side and slinging an arm around your shoulders. "Yes?" He drawls.

Scott wrinkles his nose. "You guys good out here? Stiles said he saw you leave with a stranger and Peter looked a little too happy about it."

"It's fine," you assure him. "Just some guy trying to roofie himself a quick lay." Scott bristles, but your too calm demeanor keeps him from asking questions. "If you're wondering, I just scared him a bit and then sent him on his way."

"Y/N!" He says. "He's just going to go out there and do it again."

"Please," you scoff. "Do you think me dumb, brother? I obviously compelled him."

"She did." Peter smiles. "And it was marvelous. You should have seen it."

"I don't know. It seems to have gotten the both of you amped up so I assume it's something I'd have disapproved of." You and Peter both smile innocently at Scott, and he rolls his eyes. "Whatever. Either rejoin the party or go somewhere else. Don't have sex in the hall. I have to walk through here."

As Scott disappears, you hum and nudge Peter with your hip. "Well would you look at that. You got the alpha's permission to defile his own flesh and blood. Wherever shall we go?"

"I've got a condo downtown."

"Too far. My car is downstairs," you say as Peter chuckles. "We can take the edge off first and then head back to your place."

"Finally! A McCall whose choices I can get behind."

"Are my choices the only thing you'd like to get behind?" You smirk at him, winking, and then start heading towards the elevator. "Lets go, Mr. Wolf. I only have less than a week left in Beacon Hills and I'd like to find out exactly how rough a wolf like you can get."

[wildingrose]

hassle

dark alley help part 8

part 7: refusal | part 9: care

word count: 2k

》 public sex

- ✿ -

You twirled on the spot while keeping your gaze fixed on the store's wall mirror, fixing the blazer and feeling the material of the pants on you. "How does this look, Tae?"

When you didn't hear anything, you frowned and turned your head to where he stood leaning against a clothes rack. He was glaring at the fabric wrapped around your legs.

"Tae?"

"I don't like them," he muttered while scowling at your pants.

Your frown deepened. "Why? Do I look bad in them?" You thought they were perfect, hugging your waist comfortably and your legs still looked sexy despite it being hidden.  

And that was the exact problem he had.

Taeyong loved seeing your beautiful legs when you wore short skirts and dresses and so he didn't like it one bit that they were being caged away. "They're not convenient."

It took you a while before you understood what he meant. Looking around, no one was near you and in a hushed tone said, "Seriously? You don't like them because it's not convenient for you to fuck me? These are for work and I'm not having you fuck me while I'm at work."

He finally lifted his gaze to meet yours. With a naughty smirk, he whispered, "Wanna bet?"

You rolled your eyes. "Whatever, I'm getting this."

His eyes blew up. "No!"

"Give me a proper reason why I shouldn't."

His jaw clenched before another one hit him. "It'll take too long to dress."

You huffed. "More like too long to un-dress."

"It'll be a hassle."

"Tae?"

"Yeah?"

"Shut up."

He sulked and looked away. In a really quiet voice, he muttered, "Lighter colour would look better."

Impressive. "You finally give a proper reason. Good boy," you cheered.

His eyes darkened instantly and before he could lay a touch on you, you held a finger up to stop him. "Nuh-uh, don't you dare even try anything here."

He rolled his eyes and caught sight of formal dresses across the store. "Can't you at least get some dresses?"

"The only ones considered professional are those body tight style that go past the knees. Not a fan of that."

"At least they'll show your legs."

You gave him a pointed look. "I'm not trying to woo anyone with my legs. Plus, I feel like I'm radiating serious boss vibes in pants. At least as a newbie, I'll avoid dresses until I've gained some respect through my work."

He hummed. "What is this business anyway?"

"My dad started his own business in real estate. Remember that small building you came to pick me up and met my brother? That's where he has his small team. His name is doing well and wanted my brother who has no interest in it to carry it on. And that's where I stepped in and saved everyone. My dad's happy, my brother's happy, and I'm happy. I get the business and I still have you. It's a win-win situation."

Taeyong's face turned grim when there was still one member in your family who wasn't happy. "But your mom..." he trailed off quietly.

You sighed and held his face gently, making eye contact. "Yeah, she might not be happy right now, but she'll eventually come around it. Let's be a little optimistic, hm?"

He smiled a little and nodded slightly.

"Good! Now let's change the topic. Do you have a suit? Like a formal, business type suit or something?"

Taeyong shook his head, frowning. "Why?"

You hummed and looked around for the men's section. "You're gonna need one for an event. Go check some out while I change, okay?" You flashed him a smile and headed for the fitting rooms. Just when you were about to close your door, Taeyong pushed it and slipped in. You staggered back a bit from the unexpected force. Puzzled, you asked, "What are you doing here?"

He didn't answer and shut the door before crouching down in front of you and unbuttoned your pants, yanking them down along with your panties in one swift move.

You gasped. "I thought I gave you a task, not an invitation to follow me here for a fuck," you spoke quietly through gritted teeth, hoping no one would hear you on the other side of the door.

"Put your feet up."

"I'm not."

He looked up at you. "See how annoying it is when you wear pants?"

You inhaled deeply and strictly told him, "Get this in your head. I am not letting you fuck me when I'm at work."

You both had a staring competition, his eyes holding utmost determination for what he wanted to accomplish in the small room as his hand gently remained wrapped around your ankle. Unlike him, your eyes shook the longer his eyes burned into yours and so your body reacted, feeling a slight throb in your exposed core.

Silently admitting defeat, you raised your foot and a huge smirk got plastered onto his face. He ripped your shoes and pants off and stood up, shrugging out only enough for his dick before pushing you against the wall and hooking your legs around his hips. His cock lined up to your entrance and held it there, waiting for your permission with a devilish smirk.

Quietly groaning, you whispered, "Don't you dare fucking tease me. Just do it!"

"Gladly."

He slowly pushed into you, both of your sighs mixing as he rested his forehead against yours. You bit into your bottom lip from having to be beautifully stretched out for the first time in nearly 48 hours.

"You feel so damn good, doll," he whispered, following suit and kept his voice low. "It's been a while."

"It's only been two days, Tae. I was busy." Busy learning the work and introducing yourself to the team.

He grunted. "That's too long." Pulling out a bit, he pushed in again, setting a slow and steady pace as he rolled his hips into you. "Not fair," he mumbled against your skin when his lips littered kisses along your jawline.

You shivered as your tight walls hugged him and tried to contain your whine when he wasn't quite rutting into you like the way you loved. If he did, it was going to be a challenge to stop yourself from drawing attention of concerned employees. Instead, you turned your head and sighed softly at the mirror displaying live porn between you and your man. Taeyong followed your gaze and curled his lips up. "Like what you see, doll?"

Your hands balled his shirt, nodding to his question. "Very."

"Good." He pecked your lips and pulled out to the tip, his hands pushing your ass up and giving it a gentle squeeze to get his doll ready for the mission.

And the timing couldn't have been worse when you heard a knock on the door.

"Ma'am, is everything going well in there?" an employee spoke, tone polite, friendly, and unsuspecting.

You gave Taeyong a strict look, silently warning him to not even think of doing anything. "Yeah, everything is- ah!"

Your fingers dug hard into his shoulders, your head flew back and hit the wall when he decided to have some fun by thrusting hard into you.

"Ma'am, are you okay?" Her voice sounded panicky. "Do you require assistance?"

"No!" you squeaked out. You kept your eyes shut and tried to calm your spiked heart down. There were no locks for the rooms and if she turned the handle, then you were screwed. "I'm... changing."

"Alright, ma'am. Let me know if you'd like anything."

Opening your eyes, you glared at Taeyong. He bit his lower lip, being fully entertained by your reaction. "Ye-" Not even one full syllable in, Taeyong repeated his fun, pulling out and jamming into your slick hole swiftly. Your toes curled and you clamped one hand to your mouth to stop yourself from screaming while the other fisted tightly in his hair, not caring if it hurt him. He merely grunted in response.

Thankfully, you heard her heels click away from the door. Your hands went limp to your sides and narrowed your eyes on Taeyong who chuckled quietly. "That was not funny," you scowled after collected your breath.

"It was. You should have seen yourself."

"What if she walked in?"

He shrugged nonchalantly. "Free show."

You smacked his shoulder hard and he laughed it off. "Let's hurry this up. I'm tired."

Taeyong arched a brow. "My doll is tired? How is that possible? We're barely getting started."

You scoffed. "Oh really? After that fun you decided to play out and me making sure I didn't give away what we were doing in here, you don't think it's possible?"

He flushed his body against yours as he pressed you further into the wall, leaving no gap between his chest and your breasts. You silently wished that the two of you were bare chested for you to feel his hard chest against your soft one, though that could wait till you were somewhere out of public place. His fingers came up to lightly trail along your jaw as he hummed against your cheek, the tip of his nose sending tingles throughout your body. "We're gonna have to work on upping your stamina, doll."

Without warning, he dug his fingers into your hips and kept you still as he pounded in and out of your heat, not giving you time to prepare yourself in keeping quiet. Your eyes pricked with tears as you felt the delicious pleasure near and did your best to muffle your moans and cries against your hand.

"You sound so fucking beautiful, doll. You should let it out, let them hear how nice you're feeling," he grunted out and shifted your ass to hit you in a slightly different angle and that was when it hit you.

Your cry hit a higher note, though gratefully not enough to hear an employee call for you again. Your muscles clenched around him as he fucked you out during your high, him bursting inside you not too long after.

After catching your breaths, he set you on your feet and you reached for the wall to hold yourself up as Taeyong fixed his pants back up to his hips.

His eyes landed on the supposed pants for purchase. Casting a nasty look at it, he asked, "Isn't it a hassle? Now you have to put your pants on. You didn't have to worry about that with your dress."

This guy and his hatred for pants was very interesting.

Huffing, you took off the blazer and Taeyong whistled with a pleased look. "Are we going for round two?"

You faked a smile and flung the blazer at his head, covering his sight. His shoulders shook as he laughed while you retrieved your panties from the discarded pants and put your own skirt and shoes back on. You draped the pants over your arm and went to rip the blazer off his head. Taeyong trailed behind you as you made your way to the door.

Opening it, you were stunned by a woman in uniform waiting on the other side with wide eyes. "Uh- I hope everything is okay," she stammered.

Shit. You screamed a series of curses in your head, wondering how long the employee stood there while you were being fucked.

Taeyong calmly walked past your shocked self and stood in front of the woman. He shoved his hands in his pockets and tilted his head. "I wonder what assistance you would have given for our love-making session," he said with a joking glint in his eyes.

All the colour drained from her face as she stood still like a statue. Her expression was masked in sheer horror, and you yelled at him. "Taeyong!" His laughter boomed as he sauntered away. You gave her a sheepish smile. "I'm so sorry," you gently apologized and hurriedly scattered away from her horrified figure. You discarded the clothes on a nearby rack and yanked Taeyong by his arm, dragging him out the store and promising yourself to never step foot in there again.

tag list: @cosmiclatte28 @mel-yjh @johnnysuhisnotmyproblem @kttyongie @chantellsievert 

[just-a-creep-babe]

Kinktober Day 27

Homicidal Lui: Jealous Sex, Hair Pulling & Blindfolds

~Requests are closed~

Masterlist: x

Any tips are greatly appreciated!

Lui’s a good boyfriend—the kind your mom would gush over if you invited to a family dinner

He‘s respectful, has excellent manners, listens to what you have to say and trusts you wholeheartedly

Sully, on the other hand, is a bit more of a handful

It’s not that he doesn’t care, he just shows his love in a different way

He knows you can take care of yourself and he does trust you, he just doesn’t quite trust other people

At the end of the day, it doesn’t take much for him to get jealous

Which is why you should’ve known not to talk to the cute guy at the grocery store while he was still next to you

You should’ve sensed the way his hand tightened around yours, and the way his whole body tensed as you made idle small talk

But by the time you make it home, you almost trick yourself into believing maybe he isn’t upset

Maybe he’s got more control over the green-eyed monster than you think—since he hadn’t mention anything about it throughout the entirety of the car ride

Except as soon as you step through the threshold of your apartment, he’s immediately trapping you against the wall, caging you in with the firm warmth of his body

The bags of fresh groceries are scattered on the floor, but you don’t have much time to dwell on the mess before his lips are on yours

The kiss is hot and heavy and demanding as he wastes no time shoving his hands up your shirt to grope at your chest

You make some indignant sound, eyes fluttering open in shock before pressing your hands to his torso and pushing him away

“S-sully!”

Emerald eyes darken as he slams his hands either side of your head

“You did that on fucking purpose,” he all but snarls the words out

Your face flushes

“I-I was just talking to the guy, Sully, that’s it!”

“Bullshit! Don’t play coy, (y/n)! This is just what you fucking wanted, isn’t it?”

Before you can respond, he’s picking you up and throwing you over his shoulder

You yelp, squirming and wriggling in his hold, your face burning in embarrassment, but you know better than to try to fight him off

You’re thrown to the bed faster than you thought possible

You scramble to sit up, panting, a wonderful mix of fear and anticipation throbbing in your lower gut

And the sight brings a cruel smile to his face

“Scared, (y/n)?”

His voice low is low and threatening as he gazes down at you

“I-it wasn’t like that—”

“I saw the way he was looking at you, (y/n)! You don’t notice these things, but I fucking do”

You have to resist the urge to instinctively crawl back as he gets on the bed

“Strip”

Left with no room to argue, not that you would, you peel the clothes from your skin until you’re bare in front of him

His gaze roams over your form, lips twitching in satisfaction at your obedience

“Close your eyes”

You do so without complaint, your whole body tingling in excitement

“Atta girl. At least you’re fucking obedient when you want to be” 

He pulls away, and then you hear some shuffling before the warmth of his body returns

A thick strip of fabric—one that’s, admittedly, familiar—is wrapped over your eyes and tightened into a knot at the back of your head

Your heart pounds wildly in your chest, knowing what comes next

Calloused fingers trace your jawline, tilting your head up and exposing your neck in the process

“You wouldn’t betray me, would you, (y/n)?”

The unnatural calm of his tone has you shivering, goosebumps nipping at your naked skin

You shake your head

“N-no, of course not”

Try as you might to be reassuring, your voice is shaky and not nearly as strong and confident as you’d like it to be

He moves further down your neck, teasing his hand around your throat, making you swallow thickly

Every touch is amplified tenfold now that you can’t see

“You better not”

He continues down your collarbone, then dips down the valley of your chest

Your back arches, wanting—needing to feel more

But then he stops

And not knowing what he’s planning is absolutely torturous

“For your own sake” he finally hisses

You almost trick yourself into believing he’ll dip past your navel and between your legs, when he suddenly pulls away

And the next thing you register is a sharp yank to your scalp as he forces your head up to press his mouth to yours in another urgent kiss

He’s hungry and demanding as he forces your lips to part with his own so he can cram his tongue down your throat, teeth clashing against yours in the process

You gasp and whine, squirming beneath him, but it only has him tightening his grip in your hair to keep you in place

His free hand traces over your stomach, moving down to just barely graze over your puffy folds

Your hips buck, trying to plead against his mouth, but the hand tangled in your locks pulls back again, forcing you to expose your neck once more

You whimper as his mouth leaves yours and you feel it at your throat instead

Sharp canines nip at the sensitive flesh before his tongue soothes over angry marks, leaving plenty of possessive hickeys in his wake

“I’ll fucking remind you who you belong to”

His threat is all the warning you get as he forces you around and shoves your face into the mattress so your ass is pushed up

You cry out in surprise, though the sound is muffled by the bed beneath you

A quick smack to your ass has you gripping into the sheets, and you’d be tempted to remove the blindfold, were it not for the punishment you know would ensue

He delivers another smack, and as you whimper, he grinds his pelvis into your backside

The feeling of him hard and twitching in his pants as the coarse material rubs into your sore skin has you biting down into the sheets, trying to suppress a filthy moan

“I’ll fucking break that flirting habit of yours, Princess”

The way he sneers out your pet name has you dripping for him

He pulls away again, and you nearly complain until you hear him drag the zipper of his jeans down

When he pushes his pelvis back against yours, you feel the tip of his cock smear precum against the flesh of your thighs

You’re already beyond drenched as he runs his hand up your slit, gathering your arousal and enveloping it around his length with a slick noise

“You want me, Princess? Wanna take my cock like a good little slut?”

You nod eagerly

“Y-yes,” you gasp

“Beg for it”

You can only bring yourself to groan his name in response

But then his hand returns to your hair so he can twist your locks into his fist until your back arches up again

“What was that?” he sharply asks, pulling your head from the mattress so you’ve no excuse not to plead for him

“P-please,” you choke out, “Please, I’m sorry—I-I want you. I need you. God, please baby, I promise I’ll be good—“

He shoves you back down, delivering another light smack to your ass with his free hand as he coos filthy possessive nothings

“Good little whore~ You’re fucking mine”

You wish you could see the sight of him as he lines himself up and pushes all the way in, stretching you out and filling you up until you’re squirming and gasping beneath him, your ass wriggling against his pelvis

With your sense of touch heightened, he feels so much bigger as he slowly starts rocking into you with light, shallow thrusts

“Take my cock, (y/n). Take my cock like a good, filthy little Princess” he groans

His hand tangled in your hair doesn’t leave as he drives his shaft in and out in even thrusts

And dear god, the pain mingling with the intensity of his touch practically has you drooling for him

“Sully, f-feels so good,” you moan beneath him

Your core burns with every growing hit of his cock pistoning in and out of you

“Yeah? You fucking like that, baby, hm?”

He tilts his hips and it has him hitting a spot that has you seeing stars 

You gasp, body jerking at the feeling, mewling out a slew of cusses in agreement

“Fuck! F-fuck, yes—don’t stop!”

He practically growls, moving faster and harder to abuse the sensitive little spot until he’s pounding into you

“Only I can make you feel this good, understand? Only I can fuck you like this”

Your body bounces forwards every time he rams into you, but he uses the grip in your hair to yank you back down until you can’t keep up with him anymore 

You can only bundle the sheets between tense fingers and release muffled cries into the mattress, your orgasm building unbearably fast with every possessive slam of his cock into your tight, fleshy walls

“Say my name, (y/n)—say who you belong to”

“S-sully! Fuck—Sully! I-I’m so f-fucking, so close!”

He groans, the sound nearly a moan as his cock twitches into your sensitive nerves

And then he’s yanking you up again and propping you up his upper half, your back pressing against his firm chest

And the change in angle has him hitting so much deeper

You throw your head back with a loud, desperate mewl, and he uses the opportunity to bite into the crook of your neck, no doubt breaking skin

Your body shudders, peak just inches from your grasp

“Cum for me, baby. Cum all over my cock so you know who that cute little cunt belongs to”

You gasp his name, body lurching against his hold as euphoria seizes your muscles, blinding you if it wasn’t for the fabric already obscuring your vision

“Mine. Mine. Fucking mine”

You can’t do anything else but breathlessly whimper his name as your body turns to putty in his hands—all for him to use as he pleases

And as you squeeze and clench around him so tightly, he hisses in a breath until finally, he stills, his cock twitches as spurts of cum flood your abused insides

You moan at the ever tightening grip around the crown of your scalp

You collapse onto the bed when he releases you, already knowing you’ll be sore in the morning

With a grunt, he lies down next to you, wrapping firm arms around your form and pulling you to his chest before tugging the blindfold loose

You blink a few times, adjusting to the light, your scalp still tingling and your neck aching with hickeys

“Don’t fucking forget who you belong to, (y/n). You’re mine”

You nod, feeling tired and sore and sleepy as you nuzzle further into his neck

“I’m yours, Sully,” you reassure, “I’m all yours~”

[august-bleeds-red]

Carnival Lights

(Bo Sinclair x AFAB!Reader)

Bo makes a stranger’s ride on the Ferris wheel more than an average trip to the carnival.

WARNINGS: Non-con, forced orgasm (NSFW below the line).

~

It was your first blind date since you were sixteen. The guy was twenty-three and already a junior partner in a prestigious law firm, and dull as paint. But, even discounting his handsome face and impeccable manners, your mom would never forgive you if you messed up on the first date. He’d opted out of riding the wheel with you, confessing a fear of heights that prevented him scaling anything higher than a stepladder, and had stepped away to pick up snacks for when you descended.

 The Ferris wheel had always been your favourite ride as a kid, back when your dad used to take you to the carnival, and you really wanted at least one ride before the night ended – for old time’s sake. You didn’t care if it made you look weird to ride alone.

 The wheel is an old-fashioned one with round, metal-roofed cars, with seats sitting opposite each other. Thankfully, it doesn’t tilt too far with just your weight to balance it.

 “Just you?” the attendant asks. You nod.

 He’s just about to close the door and secure it when someone speaks up:

 “Excuse me, y’all mind if I ride with you?”

 He’s a handsome, dark-haired man in his thirties, with a lazy Louisiana drawl, dressed comfortably in work pants and a navy button-down shirt, an old red-and-white trucker cap sticking out of his back pocket. His face is friendly, eyebrows raised in hope as he awaits your response.

 “Oh . . . I, uh . . .”

 You’re not sure your date would appreciate you sitting in such a confined space with a strange guy you just met, but the attendant is looking at you impatiently, so you panic and shrug in consent. The guy smiles and takes the seat opposite you, the car bouncing a little at the change in weight. His legs are long, his knees almost brushing yours, but he keeps his hands at a respectable distance in his lap. The attendant fastens the door shut and the car trundles a few feet along to allow the next passengers. You know it’s gonna take a while – they need to fill up every car before setting the wheel to spin freely. Which means you’re sitting with this guy for at least the next ten minutes.

 “Name’s Bo,” he says, holding out a hand to you.

 “Um . . . Y/N,” you reply, accepting the handshake politely. His hand is big, his palm warm against yours.

 “Figured we might as well get acquainted if we’re stuck in this tuna can together,” he reasons.

 “Yeah,” you grin nervously, not wanting to point out that you’re only “stuck” because it was his idea to join you.

 “I’m sorry,” he says. “I’m a creature of impulse – my ma used to take me and my brothers on this wheel when we were little kids, an’ I saw you sittin’ alone and, I dunno, you just looked like a nice girl, so I took a shot.”

 “No, it – it’s okay,” your smile grows more genuine. “My dad used to take me on this wheel too, every time the carnival came into town.”

 He smiles, his eyes fixed on your face. He has an intense, dark stare, his brown eyes barely blinking. “So you here by yourself?”

 “No, my date’s around here somewhere.”

 “Well, that’s a little weird,” Bo says. “Leavin’ you to ride alone?”

 “Heh, yeah,” you shrug. “Doesn’t like heights.”

 Bo snorts and mutters something that sounds like, “Pussy.” You can’t help but giggle.

 The car has now elevated far enough from the ground as to make disembarking impossible. You gaze down at the sprawling carnival lights, illuminating the stalls, food carts and rides in a soft, golden glow.

 You don’t speak up when Bo shifts in his seat, edging closer to you so your knees touch. The car is small – there’s no reason to make a fuss for what could just be an honest mistake. Until his fingertips brush against the crown of your kneecap.

 “Kinda irresponsible, really,” he says, his voice lowering. “Leavin’ a little lady as cute as you unaccompanied.”

 Would it be rude to ask him to stop talking? Or at least to move his hand? His fingers are definitely rubbing the inside of your knee now, his gaze hot in a way that proves he knows exactly what he’s doing.

 You’re just about to say something, when he ‘casually’ shifts in his seat, lifting his trouser leg high enough for you to see the handle of a knife tucked into his heavy boot. Your blood runs cold and you press your lips together. His hand slides further up your leg until his whole palm is resting on your thigh.

 “I know if it were me,” he purrs, “I wouldn’t let you outta my sight for a moment.”

 Your fingers are shaking, your skin beginning to prickle.

 “Please . . .” you whisper, your voice barely more than a breath.

 He grins. “Please what, princess?”

 “I . . .” you swallow around the lump rising in your throat. “Please don’t hurt me.”

 He laughs. “Then you’ll do what I say, won’t cha?”

 He eases the knife from his boot and pockets the guard protecting the blade, tracing the dull edge down the soft skin of your thigh. One false move, one flick of his wrist, and you’d be bleeding out all over the car floor. He leans across and uses the blade to dislodge the straps of your dress.

 “Let’s see them gorgeous tits,” he says. Reaching across, he pulls at your neckline, revealing the strapless bra you’re wearing underneath. “Oh, honey – d’you wear that just for me?” Slipping his fingers inside the blue lace cup, he releases one of your breasts and squeezes roughly. You whimper, clapping a hand over your mouth when the knife twitches in his hand.

 “Look at these pretty little nipples,” he flicks his thumb over one, smiling when it hardens at his touch. “Why, they’re already pleased to see me, aren’t they?”

 Cursing your treacherous body, you shut your eyes and wince as he scoops your other breast free, jiggling the soft flesh.

 “God damn, these puppies look sweet enough to eat,” he moans, leaning in and lapping at one nipple with his tongue. You cringe away from him, gasping when he takes a firm grip on the back of your head.

 “Now,” he murmurs, “you’re gonna come sit on my lap, right? We’re gonna have a little fun. Easy, nice and slow – don’t wanna draw too much attention now, do we?

 Hating your own cowardice, you shift from your seat and turn, letting Bo settle you against his clothed erection. You can feel it through the fabric, digging into your ass. The car stays at an inconspicuous angle, the cars below, above or opposite you none the wiser as to what’s going on.

 Bo keeps one hand on your breast, squeezing and pinching, the other strays further downwards. The knife is stowed away back into his boot, but you already know better than to make a grab for it.

 “Let’s see just how much of a good girl y’really are,” he whispers in your ear, teeth biting at the side of your neck. A shiver runs through you, and you can tell he feels it by the way his lips curl against your skin. The tips of his fingers brush your panties and you close your eyes in shame at how damp they are. You’ve always had sensitive breasts, and the way he’s sucking and teething at your skin is only making it worse. Nudging aside the silky fabric, you gasp when his thick, calloused fingers trace the outline of your pussy.

 “Ahh, there we go,” he shifts a little, spreading your thighs further apart with his knees. “Just look how wet y’are for me. You’re just a little slut, ain’t cha?”

 His fingers push past your folds, rubbing at your clit and making your legs tremble. He slips in up to the first knuckles of his index and middle fingers, his thumb circling your clit with a practiced movement.

 “Y’like the way my fingers feel in you, you little whore?” he growls in your ear. “Fuck, you’re soakin’ wet. Bet you wish you could take my hard fuckin’ cock in that sweet little cunt, huh? Ride me ‘til I fill you up with cum, you dirty fuckin’ slut.”

 He forces another finger inside you, tilting his wrist to allow them to sink in right to the hilt. You stretch around his digits, your slick walls inviting him in further. Why is this happening? Why are you so turned on? Your heart flutters in the cage of your chest and you bite your lip to keep from moaning.

 “Thaaaat’s it,” Bo croons, quickening pace. “You love it, don’t you, you little whore? You love havin’ my fingers all up in your cunt.”

 You shake your head and the hand molesting your breast takes a firm hold of your jaw. He turns your head to face him and your lips are assaulted – his tongue staining your mouth with the faint taste of tobacco. Your pussy is liquid in his hands, the warm whispers of pleasure building steadily in your lower stomach.

 “You’re gonna fuckin’ cum for me,” he growls. “Y’hear that, bitch? You’re gonna cum on my fingers like a slut. C’mon, gimme that goddamn cunt. Show how much you love bein’ fingered like a cheap whore.”

 Bitch. Slut. Whore. The poisonous words hang in the air around you.

 “Tell me you wanna cum,” he demands. “Beg me to make you cum.”

 “I— I can’t . . .” you whimper. You don’t think you could live with yourself if you stooped to that level of indignity. Then he stops and the sky comes crashing down around your ears. “F-fuck—!”

 “Tell me what I wanna hear, baby.” He moves his fingers again at a brutal pace, the friction against both your clit and G-spot almost too much to bear. It’s growing, reaching such a pitch as to make your ears ring.

 “Fuck, please . . .” you screw your eyes shut against what you feel is the judgment of the world. “Please . . . make me cum—”

 “Say my name, bitch,” he growls. “Tell me who this fuckin’ cunt belongs to.”

 “Bo! Y-you . . . my . . . it belongs to you . . . oh God, Bo, please, please—”

 At the last moment, as you feel your walls contracting, he shoves two fingers in your mouth, grunting with satisfaction as you bite down to prevent yourself crying out from the most intense orgasm you’ve ever experienced. He chuckles darkly in your ear, his fingers making an obscenely wet sound as they withdraw from you.

 He allows you to reassemble yourself before the wheel has completed its final loop. You run a hand through your tangled hair and wipe away the smears of mascara beneath your eyes, while he sucks the shining fluid from his fingers with apparent relish. The last few drops, however, he spares for you. You gag around the fingers he forces into your mouth, tasting the tangy flavour of your own juices.

 When the attendant lets you out, Bo gestures for you to go first, like the Southern gentleman one might presume him to be at first glance. You can see your date waiting for you, a stick of cotton candy in one hand. As you reach him, he watches Bo leave the car behind you.

 “Who was that?” he asks, handing you the pink cloud of spun sugar.

 “No-one,” you shrug as casually as you can manage. You could tell him, now you’re free from the cage. But you don’t. And you never will.

 Grinning like a cat in a dairy barn, Bo secures his cap atop his head. Catching your eye one last time, he winks, nods, and disappears into the crowd.   

~

Inspired by a soundgasm piece by @gentlemanswitch.

[kumkaniudaku]

Simple Syrup

You asked for Daveed smut and I tried to deliver. At least this one time. Enjoy!

Warning: Sexual Content. 18+. 

Daveed Diggs x Black!OC (Olivia Jenkins)(Yes, the MC/ OC is black. Representation is important.)

"Yo, open up!" Heavy fists beat against the door of Olivia's downtown apartment, making her roll her eyes. "I know you can hear me, girl! It's your favorite pop-up roommate!"

"You've been evicted, Diggs!"  

"I paid you rent, though!"

Turning the stove on low, Olivia shook her head as she wiped her hands on a dishtowel. Daveed always found a way to surprise her with his presence. He never texted before showing up at her door but frequently sported a backpack or suitcase full of clothes or Rafael for an extended stay. He and all his baggage were welcome anytime, with or without notice.

Stepping to the door, Olivia bit back a smile before responding. "I didn't receive any payments this month."

"I got it in my bag."

"Bag or bags?"

"Open the door to find out."

Daveed took a step back as the locks began to turn, waiting for Olivia's face to greet him with faux anger the way she did the last time he showed up out of nowhere and stayed for three weeks. Despite stopping by six months ago, it felt like a lifetime since he'd been in her company. Bi-weekly phone conversations weren't enough. He needed to be near Olivia while she watched whatever Housewives franchise had her attention for the month.

When the door opened to reveal the long hallway leading to her living area, Olivia stood with a hand on her hips and a grin on her face.

"Where is my money," she asked, shifting her weight from foot to foot. Just as she expected, he stood in the hallway with a suitcase that she knew cost a fortune to check at the airport and his worn Jansport full of junk and work.

Daveed laughed and bent to rifle through his backpack for a crumpled white envelope that he handed over with exaggerated purpose. "Here you go, Miss Jenkins. Sorry to be late on rent for, what, 8 months? I hope this is enough."

"Boy, you didn't really need to pay me. You're not on the lease."

"Good," he answered as he pretended to wipe sweat from his brow. "Because those are just Chick Fil A coupons."

Olivia stood with her mouth open as Daveed brushed her to roll his luggage to the first bedroom on the right.

He listened to her insult his "stupid face" and instruct him to hurry up while he scanned the room he had called home more times than he could count. All of Daveed's belongings were in the same place, with almost unnoticeable shifts to show that Olivia had cleaned once or twice. His favorite throw blanket was folded at the edge of the bed with his initials elegantly embroidered in the corner. The air smelled of the vanilla candle she kept on the nightstand next to a framed photo of the crew enjoying a roller coaster at Six Flags. His favorite trinket, Olivia's homecoming crown from undergrad, sat next to a single gold medal from Daveed's days competing in track and field. To him, it symbolized their bond from the beginning. To her, it was probably just a space to hide old items.

"Daveed, get in here! I need you to cut!"

All at once, Daveed's sense of self returned to center him in reality. He quickly kicked off his shoes once he remembered Olivia's rules and started off toward the kitchen to answer the call for his help.

Even with the windows open, he could smell savory and sweet aromas combining for a smell that reminded him of the holidays. However, the calendar placed them square in the middle of an excruciatingly hot summer. He could see the open bottle of BBQ sauce on the center island next to a mixing bowl full of things he couldn't recognize but knew they would taste great. Bushels of greens sat in a pot on the stove, boiling amid smoked meat and seasonings to complement the food cooking in the oven. Daveed felt excitement take hold of his face and forced the apples of his cheeks up toward his eyes. Olivia looked up from her task at the cutting board and smirked.

"I thought you were vegan now."

"My business is my business, Liv. We talked about this last week."

"We also talked about you heading directly to Toronto after your job in Atlanta and, yet, here you are." She studied Daveed's face for answers but found nothing but a growing smile. "Come over here and cut up these strawberries while I sauce the ribs."

Daveed followed directions without complaint, lazily strolling to the island and nudging Olivia away. He'd been her help in the kitchen before to open pesky jars or stir while she tended to the more time-intensive parts of the meal. On more than one occasion, he had fucked up, and each time she invited him back into her safe space with open arms.

"How's Rafa and the family," Olivia asked with her back turned while she bent to take a peek into the oven.

Daveed kept his eyes on her backside for a moment too long before answering. "Rafa's good. Amy sends her love and says that you are more than welcome for Friendsgiving this year. She volunteered you for pies."

"You volunteered me for pies, Daveed," Olivia corrected, knowing how much her friend loved her desserts. "What about my babies? Is Santiago the best big brother to Emelia?"

"He's...trying. But he did send a gift for the lady with the bald head. His words, not mine."

Olivia ran a hand across her tapered fade and chuckled. "I feel like he heard Rafael say that."

"No, Rafa calls you Thick Mr. Clean."

"Yeah, because that's what you said when you were drunk on New Years," Olivia accused as she gestured toward the cabinet housing her wine glasses. Daveed nodded before answering.

"I said it with love!"

"Mhmm, I'm sure."

Together they watched half a bottle of Sauvignon Blanc be transferred into the separate glasses, waiting for the moment they could take a sip. The last time they shared a drink, they ran through two 12- packs of beer with Rafael and ended up dancing with street performers in Times Square. She hadn't been able to stomach the smell of a Budweiser since then and fully transitioned to fruity notes and sparkling Rosé with Daveed occasionally coming along for the ride.

Taking another long sip from his glass, Daveed leaned against the island counter to watch Olivia stir a mixture for skillet cornbread.

"What's got you so stressed?"

Olivia shrugged but didn't look away from the bowl. "Nothing. I'm fine."

"The last time you cooked like this, you were writing your dissertation. And the time before that, it was your mom."

The room fell quiet outside of the spoon, ricocheting off the sides of the mixing bowl. After several seconds, Olivia took a deep breath and looked up at Daveed.

"Daddy's getting remarried. Omari and I are his best-kids," she laughed. "I'm not stressed. Just a bit...sad, I guess?"

Daveed understood the issue without needing more context. Five years ago, he was the one sitting beside Olivia on the floor of her brother's home office after the news came that their mother had in the hospital. He was there for the saddest funeral he'd ever experienced and the months of reconciliation that the family struggled through on the way to some sense of normalcy. The idea that her father had found love again was heartwarming, but Daveed knew the occasion was bringing up old feelings.

"Wanna talk about it?"

She shrugged again and moved the skillet to the oven. "There's nothing to talk about. I said I'm fine. I wish she was here, ya know, but I know she isn't upset. She always told us to move on once she's gone. She sure as hell would."

Daveed chuckled at the idea of Mrs. Jenkin's moving on in the afterlife. "She was funny like that. I remember when she met me for the first time and kept calling me Devante."

"Yes," Olvia exclaimed, a spark of joy returning to her eyes. "She'd call me and be like, that boy Devante is smart! Ask him if he can put me in a movie one day!"

Olivia's voice warped to imitate her mother as best as possible before she burst into laughter with Daveed.

"One of the last things she said to me was that I need to make sure you keep having fun. She didn't want you to stop enjoying life on account of her."

"Yeah…" Daveed watched Olivia down the wine in her glass with her eyes closed, waiting for her to continue her thought. "Well, you're doing a good job. We could work on your definition of fun, but solid effort so far."

"How can I do better? I'm open to criticism."  

Daveed kept his eyes on Olivia while he reached across her body to grab the wine bottle for the final drink. Her breath hitched while alcohol buzzed through her system, creating the perfect storm for sudden arousal. She fought her thoughts by shaking her head to recover.

"You can start by grabbing those strawberries and bringing them over to the stove."

"Don't skip the question." Daveed's smirk as he followed her to the other side of the counter made Oliva hot with embarrassment, but she kept a calm exterior. "Are you still having fun with me?"

"I always have fun with you, D, you know that. Who else is gonna play Bop It with me at 2 AM on a Wednesday? The question is, are you still having fun with me, superstar?"

"Don't start that. I come and stay at your house because I miss you, not because I can't find somewhere else to sleep. You're my person."

"For now," Olivia added as a rebuttal, ignoring the way her stomach flipped at hearing the way Daveed felt. "What happens when you get married? You're gonna have to go be a family man like Rafa. Then we'll only see each other on Friendsgiving and Christmas."

"We'll cross that bridge when we get to it."

"Hm." Olivia's short but skeptical laugh effectively ended the conversation. Still, Daveed had already made up his mind to return to the discussion later in the week. "So, how long are you here this time?"

Daveed used one of his large palms to push a few curls off his forehead in search of relief from the heat in the kitchen. "I was thinking a couple weeks. Three or four."

"That's longer than normal! I get to have my favorite guy here long enough to help me put wallpaper up in the guest bathroom?"

"Am I only muscle to you?"

"Of course, not," she answered with a sweet smile, making Daveed mirror her expression. "You're also a taste tester. Open up."

Before Daveed could object, Olivia swiped barbecue sauce across his bottom lip for his opinion. The tip of his tongue appeared to taste the tangy brown sauce, finding an explosion of flavor that reminded him how much he missed Olivia's cooking.

"What's the verdict," Olivia asked over her shoulder as she turned off the eye under her simple syrup mixture.

"Tangy and sweet. I'm not sure why you don't bottle this up for sale. My dad would love some."

"Meh, I like having it as a treat for the people I love. All my hobbies aren't for profit, my friend."

Daveed dramatically threw a hand across his chest and gasped. "Did Mean Ole Liv just imply that she loves me? I-I'm gobsmacked. Utterly shocked and eternally grateful."

"Diggs, you're pushing it," she laughed. "Come taste this syrup before I start on the lemonade."

From experience, Daveed knew what to expect. But he humored Olivia anyway if only to see pride light up her face when he told her how amazing the sweet mixture tasted. After washing his hands in the sink, he skimmed his middle and pointer fingers across the top of the syrup to pick up enough to coat his fingertips.

He eyed the liquid for a moment, watching it slowly trickle down the side of his long fingers while he thought of his next move. Olivia stood at the refrigerator with her back turned, humming a song from The Wiz. At the same time, she gathered ingredients for the beverage.

"Hey...hey, Liv." Daveed had already started to close the short gap between them and stood waiting for Olivia to respond to his call.

"Wha -" A sudden swipe of syrup across her bottom lip confused Olivia. "D, what is your problem?"

Stepping forward, Daveed took her chin in his to bring their lips inches apart. "Is it still cool if I taste?"

Olivia stared at Daveed without blinking, fighting her brain for a competent answer to his question. Instead, she nodded in a daze with her jaw slack. His fingers took gentle meandering paths across the peaks and valleys of her face before using his thumb to part her lips.

Daveed's first kiss was a tentative peck to test the waters. When he received no resistance, he pulled Olivia closer for full access to her mouth.

Neither of them expected to fall into the kiss so easily. Olivia didn't expect to melt into Daveed's body while he dictated the pace and intensity. Daveed didn't expect to feel an overwhelming desire to consume the one person that always felt so close but far away. He wanted to feel and taste every part of Olivia while he had the green light. She reveled in Daveed's attention, even if it was only for a moment.

Taking a step backward, Daveed used his knowledge of the kitchen to guide them back toward the stove. Their lips remained connected to taste the last bits of each other. Olivia was the first to break the lip lock and move her head upward, directing Daveed to choose a spot on her neck to explore.

The cold, sticky simple syrup came next, the thick glob landing on the center of her chest and sliding to her cleavage.

"I've thought about this a lot," Daveed spoke barely above a whisper as he used a finger to spread simple syrup across Olivia's chest. "Kinda wild to say, but I have."

"How long?"

"A year. Maybe two."

Olivia released a shaky gasp once Daveed's tongue began licking from the space between her breast to the base of her neck to catch the simple syrup. As quickly as it disappeared, he replaced the sugar mixture with another round at the juncture of her neck and shoulder. He groaned as the tart strawberry flavor mixed with the sweetness of the sugar and Olivia's skin. She grasped the back of his head for stability, allowing her eyes to flutter closed for a few seconds.

"How does it turn out? In your thoughts, I mean?"

Daveed paused to kiss Olivia's lips again and run his hands down her back. "Doesn't matter. We're here now, and I can't think of anything outside of how good you taste drenched in strawberry sauce."

"Simple syrup," Olivia answered, smiling as she sneakily dipped her finger into the pot behind Daveed. "It's simple syrup, and I haven't gotten a taste yet. Open your mouth."

They kept their eyes on each other while Daveed opened his mouth, waiting for whatever came next. Olivia took her time to coat his tongue in syrup, imagining how it would feel to experience the concoction from his mouth.

There started the mad scramble to get closer, taste more and touch longer. Separate but equal desires to completely consume the other person had the pair maneuvering around the kitchen. They remained attached at the lips until they reached the solid wood breakfast table near the large casement window. Daveed was the first to remove clothing, pulling his t-shirt over his head and tossing it somewhere behind him. A split-second decision had him rushing back to the stove to retrieve the syrup pot. He carefully placed it on the table while Olivia slid the straps of her summer dress down her arms to let the fabric pool at her waist. Daveed watched with a flirtatious smile, marveling at the expanse of her warm brown skin. Olivia returned the sentiment, letting her eyes rake over his broad chest and toned midsection.

One after the other, Daveed and Olivia added bits of syrup to different body parts to lick and suck the skin clean. A handful mistakenly dripped onto Olivia's thigh, and they watched the sticky liquid carry small chunks of strawberries to the inner portion of her leg.

Daveed regarded the sight with wonder before carefully dropping to one knee for a better look. He maintained eye contact with Olivia as he kissed his way to the sweetest spot, lingering in places that earned the most desirable response. The scratch of facial hair combined with his lips and tongue's soft, silkiness made Olivia keen for more. She could feel the blood rushing to pool at her inner thigh for a bruise that would leave evidence of a dream achieved. She smiled at the thought of seeing it when she was getting dressed and how her stomach might feel with butterflies from the memories.

Daveed mumbled praise after praise into the supple skin of Olivia's thigh before starting a journey back to her lips. When he returned, he slowly pushed the waistband of his sweats down his hips and legs.

"Oh," Olivia spoke, eyes wide while she fought the natural desire to let her gaze travel. "I...wow, okay. I feel like I'm violating you."

"I'm kind of asking you to," Daveed laughed as he stepped closer.

"This is so fucking weird. Are we really about to do this?"

"Only if you want. I mean, I want to, but we can stop whenever you say the word."

He was closer now, dropping kisses on her shoulders while he pressed their chests together to reduce the space between him.

Olivia's legs naturally hooked themselves around his waist at the same time that her arms circled his neck.

She leaned forward to speak against Daveed's lips with her eyes hooded in lust, "I want this."

Passion and the hint of strawberry coating their lips intensified the moment between Olivia and Daveed. He held her writhing hips steady while he stood on his toes to push forward. Simultaneous moans of pleasure rang out in the kitchen, surely gaining the attention of nearby neighbors.

Their hips bucked an even pace, repeatedly meeting to build tension in their bellies. Daveed felt the strain of each stroke in his thighs and calves but found the desire to fuck his friend on her kitchen table to override any other immediate discomfort.

"Are you a talker," Daveed asked randomly, making Olivia's eyes snap up from the action below her waist to focus her attention on him.

"What?"

"A talker. Do you like to talk during sex?" His question came between labored breaths and grunts holding a mixture of exertion and indescribable pleasure.

"Daveed, are you trying to have a conversation with me right now?"

"I mean, I like to - fuck - I...I like to talk sometimes. Is that cool?"

A high-pitched moan ripped through Olivia's throat before she could gather her senses to respond. "It's your c-call, Diggs. Just don't stop."

He followed directions without skipping a beat, digging into his strength to pick up speed when he sensed they could move to the next level. He peppered in filthy statements that stimulate Olivia's mind while driving into her with expert precision.

They held on to each other as they reached separate peaks with no regard for the climbing noise level.

"I wanna do this forever," Daveed whispered into Olivia's ear before nipping at the lobe.

"Not look into my eyes lovingly and write songs about me?"

Daveed chuckled and snapped his hips forward, earning a near-silent moan. "Can I use you calling me daddy on the hook?"

"You got a lot of work to do before that happens."

"I'll put in overtime."

Splaying his hand across Olivia's torso, Daveed pushed her to lay flat on the table before leaning to hover over her body. He used his waning energy to give her all the power in his hips, searching for a climax. When she thought she couldn't come anymore, Olivia felt her body jolt off the table once the pad of Daveed's thumb began rubbing tight circles on her clit. Daveed smiled at the reaction but felt it disappear as soon as his hips falter mid-stroke. He rushed to pull out of Olivia, fearing that if he stayed inside for a moment longer, he would expedite his journey to fatherhood.

Olivia helped his cause by curling her fingers around his length and joining his pumping effort while she propped her body up on her elbow. He came with a choppy moan and heavy breathing on her belly, his chest rising and falling rapidly in time with the stove's timer beeping for attention.

Both Olivia and Daveed dissolved into laughter.

"Please, don't let this dry on me. It's sexy now but a pain to get off later."

Daveed's laughter climbed to hysterics at Olivia's mention of the mess on her stomach before reaching across the table to grab napkins out of the centerpiece component.

"Sorry," he apologized sheepishly as he helped wipe her clean. "Condoms next time?" 

"Or my mouth."

Daveed stood shocked for a split second while Olivia worked to readjust her clothing and hurry to the stove. He followed her lead and pulled up his sweats before clearing the syrup pot and grabbing wipes to disinfect the surface.

The room was silent while they arranged hot dishes on the counter and privately grappled with having sex for the first time. A sense of "now what" hung in the air, which made Daveed more and more uncomfortable.

After plates were fixed, they chose opposite ends of the table to enjoy the meal.

"You know," Olivia started, laughing as she swallowed the last piece of cornbread on her plate. "That simple syrup recipe is my mom's. This whole meal was her favorite thing to cook, and I made it because I was really fuckin' sad and needed her nearby. Then you showed up."

Daveed's eyes snapped up from his plate. He wasn't sure what to say and remained silent in hopes that Olivia would elaborate.

"A couple weeks before she died, she told me that she would still be directing my love life from Heaven. She grabbed my hand and said, 'Dammit, Bean, I'm gone get you a man even if I gotta do it during bingo with the good Lord.'"

"You think she's up there winning the grand prize?"

Olivia shook her head. "I think she forfeited it to send you to me."

Her answer made Daveed still to watch Olivia's eyes meet his set from across the table. She reached a hand across the table with her palms facing upward, beckoning Daveed to place his palm in the center of hers.

"We have three weeks to figure this shit out," Daveed said, smiling before bringing Olivia's palm to rest on his cheek.

She looked at him for a minute to take in the way his eyes reflected the sun before using her head to gesture toward the pot still resting on the counter.

"And all night to finish off mama's recipe."

[anauthore]

Not Much of A Partygoer (Kenny McCormick x Reader) {SERIES | Two}

Summary: (Y/n) drinks to forget her parents. Good thing Kenny is great at handling drunk people.

Pairing: Kenny McCormick x Reader (she/her pronouns) - South Park

NOTE: Every part of this series can be read as stand-alone, or as part of the series itself! If you don’t want to read each part on Tumblr, feel free to check out links to the work on the below websites:

Wattpad | Quotev | AO3

Fic Below the Cut | Previous Part | Next Part

The door slammed. You didn’t flinch because, unfortunately, you were used to things like that. Your door was ajar and your earbuds were in. Even though one side was quieter than the other, they did a good enough job blasting music into your ears and drowning out the noise of arguing and yelling.

* * *

The night, again, was cold. It always seemed like it was chilly here in Colorado, but you didn’t really mind. You liked the cold, anyway. You’d always thought that being cold was better than being hot.

The wind was surprisingly absent as you walked toward the address you’d scribbled on a piece of paper, squinting to search for the numbers on each mailbox in order to ensure you were in the right place. When you did eventually get there, though, the abundance of noise and flashing lights in the window was all you needed to confirm that you had indeed shown up at the party that you had, for some reason, been invited to.

You walked up the walkway, your feet gripping the stone easily as it had both been shoveled and salted. You naively knocked on the door before realizing there was a doorbell. You ringed it a couple times, waiting for an answer, but when none came, you leaned toward an opened window to peek inside.

Just as you focused on two dark-haired boys chatting in the corner with cups filled with what you assumed was alcohol, the door opened and the noise rushed into the open like waves crashing over you.

* * *

You had been in the middle of switching songs. The angry music you listened to only exasperated your feelings, and you weren’t in the mood for sad sounds. To your dismay, you never got the chance to hear whatever it is you were searching for.

Your door, already propped open so that your mom could see you were diligently working on your schoolwork, slammed against the opposite wall with enough force that you jumped. You looked up and locked eyes with your mom’s boyfriend- he was standing in the doorway and gesturing wildly, still in his Winter jacket with his tie peeking out from over the top.

His voice boomed as you were well accustomed to, but even then you couldn’t keep his words from drowning you.

“And your daughter, this little wench, she’s probably a slut just like you! Look at her; look at her room! And the clothes she wears, it’s completely unacceptable. If I were anyone else I’d be after her right now.”

You furrowed your brows in disgust and anger. What the fuck was happening? You opened your mouth to say something, but you couldn’t get a word out before he stood to the side and pointed into the hallway, looking directly at you as he commanded you toward the kitchen.

* * *

In the doorway was the silhouette of someone you recognized, and though you wouldn’t consider her a friend to you, she sure was a sight for sore eyes. 

Wendy Testaburger waved to you and smiled happily, as she always did, and then beckoned you inside. You couldn’t help but smile back at her as you climbed the steps, and, like she did with almost every girl she saw, she enveloped you in a tight hug before she let you go.

“I’m so glad you came! I was starting to think you’d never show.” She closed the door behind you and instantly you were a hundred times warmer. You almost felt suffocated.

“Yeah, well, I had nothing else better to do.” You shrugged it off.

She rolled her eyes playfully and picked up a cup from the side table that you assumed was hers. You didn’t have to peek inside to know that the liquid that sloshed around inside the plastic barrier was not alcohol. Wendy didn’t drink.

“Here, follow me,” she beckoned you over and started walking through the sparse crowd in the living room. You glanced around and recognized some kids from school, but obviously none of them were your friends. 

“So, this is the punch, and this is the punch.” She chuckled softly, shaking her head only slightly and handed you a plastic cup that looked like both hers and everyone else’s.

“Choose wisely.”

* * *

“(Y/n), do you mind telling me what the fuck you think you’re doing?” 

You looked to your mother for comfort, but she was just as angry as her partner. You had no idea what to say, so you shrugged.

“Don’t shrug at me! You know damn well what you’re getting into, sleeping around and doing drugs. Don’t act like you don’t know!”

You reached your breaking point. You felt your own voice rise up out of your chest and scream, all the words that were bouncing around in your brain finally forming into something other than thoughts.

“I’m not doing fucking anything! You’re so preoccupied with blaming me that you forget you’re dating a crackhead with a daughter who hasn’t done jack. shit. You think I wanna end up like her, dating someone like you?”

The cold slap that stung on your cheek froze you. This time, your mother was fuming, her fist balled up as tight as she could make it.

You scoffed, tears threatening to fall from your eyes as you pushed back your chair and slammed the door shut behind you, welcoming the wind as you strode toward any direction at all. Anywhere that would take you away from here.

* * *

  The moment the punch touched your lips, you were instantly warmed. You sighed and watched Wendy walk away, waving as she departed and fazed into the crowd. It was quiet where you stood; the tiny nook in the kitchen where the two bowls sat are the only thing that drew people into the room. You thought about leaning against the wall and staying away from everyone, but you were cold, and it was warmer where all the action was, so you headed towards the living room with an arm wrapped around your frame and your hand gripping your cup.

Music vibrated the floor through huge speakers stationed in the corner of the room, and you were grateful that it wasn’t any louder than that. Some kids sung to themselves while others were swaying to the rhythm; everyone was congregated in some sort of group, leaving you to be the odd one out. As always.

Or at least, you were for a moment or two before one of the boys in the corner came over to recruit you for a game of beer pong. You shook your head, and he nodded, stalking off to find someone else- behind him trailed a familiar blond, probably looking for the same thing. Your gaze met his for a brief moment; you don’t know what you expected, but he left as quickly as he had come.

You took another sip. And then another. Two more trips to refill your cup later, Wendy once again met you in the kitchen.

“Hey girl! Having fun?”

You smiled politely, and muttered a reply, but of course she knew better. 

“C’mon, (Y/n)! It’s not a party unless you’re enjoying yourself. Actually- wanna join my team? We’re playing beer pong, we need one more person for it to be even.”

You hesitated, but you didn’t get a chance to answer before she walked off, expecting you to follow her.

And that you did. You caught up and followed her like a dog, not wanting the crowd to close in on you and trap you in the sea of strangers. You barely paid attention to her, your eyes glued to her feet as she weaved in and out of rooms and obstacles until finally, finally, you reached the garage.

The draft made you shiver. There were significantly less people here than inside, but the atmosphere was playful as the small group of beer-pongers whooped and cheered for Wendy, having made the score even. You smiled nervously, finishing the last of your drink before setting the cup down on whatever clear surface available.

Wendy stood with you and two other girls who you didn’t recognize at all, while the opposing team was made up of Kenny, the black-haired guy you saw walking around earlier, some redhead, and the ever infamous Cartman. You had an opinion on at least a few people here, but your facial expression gave nothing away. You just watched, and when it was your turn, you played.

You missed your first few shots, with jeers from Cartman and the telltale mumbling of Kenny, followed by laughter and kind words from Wendy. The fifth or so time around, one of your teammates was getting fed up with you.

“Fuck, why can’t you make a ball! We’re getting obliterated! Are you already that drunk?” 

“Bebe! C’mon, she has as much of a chance as anyone here.” You could tell she was holding back a smile just to be polite. The boys snickered and your face turned red, but that could also be the alcohol settling in your empty stomach. 

"Hey, make another shot.” One of the kids opposite to you nodded his head in your direction, glancing at your hands before he tossed a white ping-pong ball toward you to catch. You did so in the palm of your hand, looking at Wendy for approval. You prepared yourself once more, planting your foot and squinting an eye to aim. Then, the ball that had been grasped so gingerly between your thumb and forefinger was released, and unsurprisingly, you missed any and all cups in front of you. You sighed and stepped back, but then your opponent spoke once more.

“Now, drink. Here, take mine.” He searched around and handed you his cup full of punch, which you had no other choice but to take from him. Cartman snickered and you stared into the liquid’s daunting face before drinking. Around you erupted clapping and laughter.

“Alright, so (Y/n)’s gonna drink every time she misses? That’s a little unfair, don’t you think?”

Wendy tapped Bebe’s arm and shook her head, then whispered something into her ear. Bebe rolled her eyes and seemed to drop the subject, though her attitude didn't waver.

Not many more rounds later, and everything started to spin. The walls were moving back and forth like you were on a boat, and your feet couldn't feel the floor underneath you anymore. Your mind buzzed as you fumbled with the ball and tossed- you didn’t see where it went, but you did hear the crescendo of ‘ooo’-ing rise around you. Wendy moved in front of you, taking hold of your shoulders and shaking you, a huge smile on her face. Her voice was shrill and easy enough to focus on; “You did it! You made the shot!”

“I- what?” You looked behind her and saw the sea of red cups half-filled with liquid, and in the midst of one, an unmistakable white orb. A cheeky smile spread across your face and you laughed. “I did it- holy shit, I did it! I get to drink!”

Wendy stepped out of the way and watched as you stepped forward and plucked the cup of alcohol off the table, tossing the ball to the side and chugging it. It burned, especially on the edge of your lips, but the warmth spread throughout your body and you quickly forgot about the burning sensation. You sat the cup down- the empty plastic fell to the side and you wiped your mouth and neck with your sleeve, cringing at the stickiness the drink left behind. You swayed, smiled, and gave two thumbs up to the other team, who started to laugh at your antics.

“Woah, okay, (Y/n), look at me.” 

Wendy’s hand supported your back as you stumbled. The muffled party music had somehow infiltrated your brain, and you swear you could feel it. In your chest, your hands, your… toes.

“Look, guys, she’s fuckin’ trashed. Who wants to bet on when she’ll dance topless on the table?”

Someone elbowed Cartman in the side and he glared back. Wendy shot him a dirty look and nudged you toward the garage door, but your drunken state was clearly something she was not used to handling.

“(Y/n)- c’mon, we have to get you some food. Or at least to lay down, okay?”

You nodded, but then shook your head. “No, no I wanna play, I’m just getting good!”

Wendy opened her mouth to speak, but someone else interrupted her before she could.

“Hey, here, let me help.” 

Kenny stepped around the white, pop-up table and ignored the nudges from Cartman and Stan. Wendy turned to look at him, sans his orange parka, with a raised brow. He, of course, completely understood the implications his demeanour had on this sort of situation. In any other case, Wendy would not let someone like him near a drunk girl such as yourself, but in this instance, he was way better at handling these situations than she was.

He put his hand around the small of your back, with the other hand on your shoulder to steer you. He pushed you toward the door and said something to Wendy. It was apparently the right thing to say, because she nodded and went back to the game, though not after she made sure you were safely in the other room.

The lights were darker inside than in the garage, so you found yourself depending on Kenny to guide you around. Your closeness allowed the telltale scent of cigarettes and musk, and now alcohol, to find its way to your nose, and immediately you were taken back to the night however many weeks ago that you’d been with him.

He steadied you as you swayed back and forth, nudging you up the stairs and into a room with a bed. You laughed, and he said something that you couldn’t quite make out before you realized he wanted you to lay down. You tried to shed your jacket, but the material felt disgusting to your senses, so you gave up and collapsed into the blankets. Your whole body buzzed, like every nerve ending was set on fire but at the same time lulled to sleep.

Kenny closed the door. The old floor underneath you creaked as he approached, and his hands found your body- they were surprisingly warm, and you got lost in his touch. It made you suddenly seem cold, and you tried to push toward him before you realized what could be happening and let the alarm bells go off in your head.

He pulled off the other arm of your windbreaker and threw it to the floor. You looked up, though unable to focus, and found him, back turned to you as he searched for something. Your pulse picked up, and you wanted to run. You knew how this would end- you were drunk, you could barely move, and it was so easy for him to just-

A warmth covered you that was definitely not there before. It was fuzzy, and so soft, and then you realized it was a blanket. You smiled and rubbed your skin against the faux fur, shivering as your heat spread out underneath the cover. You tried to thank Kenny, for being better than you thought he was, but your voice was both muffled by the blanket and by your drunken haze.

Kenny sat next to you and watched you drift in and out of sleep. He stared at a wall, or sometimes at you, but either way he was sensible enough to keep anything or anyone else from coming in to disturb you.

You’d grown used to him being next to you. You’d half-dream, being alerted by the prospect of him moving, and then comforted to find that he was still sitting there, at the end of the mattress, lost in his own thoughts.

Right before you fell to sleep, you’d opened your eyes to find that he was slipping out of the door. You’d spoken, almost pleaded, to him.

“You’re leaving?”

He turned to you with a gaze that you couldn’t place. You could also barely see it. “Uh, I- yeah. I’m just getting a drink.”

You nodded. You didn’t hear him leave, but then again, the buzzing in your head was hard enough to hear past on its own. 

“Thank you so much. Thank you. Thank you, Kenny. Ken. Thanks.” You couldn’t help but smile at his kindness.

You didn’t know if he heard you, but you didn’t care enough to check. With that, your last words of the night, you were out, succumbing to the cocoon of sleep you desperately needed.

[gladerwolfstarkimagines]

Imagine being Lin Beifong's only daughter and developing a crush on your fellow officer Mako. You finally managed to get the firebender alone but your family keeps accidentally ruining your efforts making for a very awkward night. 

Being a part of Republic City’s elite defence you’d seen the avatar and her friends often and sure you’d noticed the handsome firebender she’d dated but that wasn’t all you’d seen. You’d seen the way Mako had treated Korra and Asami and it angered you but it wasn’t your place to judge. So you treated him as you did every citizen, formally and with respect, the few times you had to interact with him and it was all fine. Until Mako asked your mom for a job. When Mako joined the force you were determined he wouldn’t be able to use his good looks and celebrity reputation on the force and were extra hard on him to compensate any favouritism he might recieve. You gave him the hardest assessments, most boring shifts and worst cases and yet he beat all of your obstacles. It annoyed you at first until you realised you weren’t really annoyed. You were mad at him, for being such a redeemable guy when his previous actions didn’t indicate that. Sure he’d apologised and Asami and Korra had forgiven him but still that didn’t mean you had to trust him...but it didn’t stop you liking him. You struggled with your growing respect for the man and even more so with your admiration of him. On stake outs he genuinely seemed smart and sweet. You tried not to develop an interest in him but you couldn’t help it. Mako seemed to take an interest in you too and soon you were working cases together by choice. You were efficient and had similar thought processes so were a match made in heaven (detective wise atleast).  You were working on the new airbender case together when your mom told you she wanted you both to accompany the avatar on her search for airbenders and protect her together. You nodded your head professional and composed when on the inside you felt all warm and excited. The time spent travelling with Mako and his friends was the best tine of your life. The avatar and her friends were so nice and you’d quickly bonded with them all, especially Asami and Korra, which shocked you as you didn’t usually get on well with other people. Becoming friends with two intelligent women had it’s set backs and it didn’t take long for them to notice your interest in Mako. You thought they might be judgemental but they were so sweet and sometimes annoyingly infavour of your crush sending you smirks and grins anytime you and Mako interacted. Korra and Asami made it their mission to get you and Mako together before you returned to Republic City and you were on board, when it came to dating you needed all the help you could get...

Asami came up with the idea of you getting some alone time with Mako by organising a movie night. Bolin was always begging Mako to watch his movers and he hadn’t gotten around to it. So Asami bought them for you and told you to ask Mako to watch it with you. Her and Korra (mostly Asami) coached you on flirting and what to say until you felt ready.  Judgement day here and Asami hiding behind a wall after shoving you towards Mako you approached him nervously. “Hi Mako” you called and he smiled “hey y/n, what are you doing out here? I thought you were guarding Korra”. “No my mom’s got that covered” you explained and Mako nodded “ow good”. Silence fell and you resisted the urge to run away and carried on. "So" you said getting the speech you’d prepared ready "i recently bought Bolin’s mover to see what it’s like and i wondered if you wanted to watch it too, with me...". Mako looked at you and you felt your cheeks redden "don’t worry if not i just thought it’d get him off your back if you’d actually..you know seen it". "No that actually sounds like a really good idea" Mako smiled "thanks y/n". You blushed but nodded "no problem...so when do you wanna watch it?". "How about tonight?" Mako asked and you panicked. Tonight? That was so soon! You weren’t ready! Asami had only coached you up until this point not the actual date! "Or not..." Mako said seeing your reaction and you shook your head feeling brave suddenly "no tonight’s fine i’ll just have to move some things around and tidy my room cus it’s a bit of a mess". "Well we can do it in my room?" Mako asked "Bolin’s got a date with Opal so we'll have it all to ourselves" he smirked slightly and you felt your stomach dip. "Yeah that sounds great thanks" you blushed and Mako smiled again "great so i'll see you tonight". "You will see me there" you agreed and then cringed inwardly. How were you literally more cool in a chase or fight than chatting to a cute boy? Mako just chuckled slightly when he looked behind you and straightened "chief" he said and you jumped to see your mom right behind you. Your mom had turned up at Zaofu claiming to help but you thought she was probably just checking up on you and Mako. Needless to say your mom’s presence had not helped the situation with Mako. Reminding Mako not only was your grandmother the greatest earth bender who ever lived but your mom was his boss who could and would fire him for any mistake...such as dating her daughter for instance was not great romantically. "Mom...i mean chief" you saluted her and she looked at you confused. "Erm yeah hi y/n". "We were discussing official police buisness, can we help you with anything?" you said awkwardly and your mom narrowed her eyes "no i only needed Mako so you could go sleep or eat or whatever just fix what’s causing this" she said gesturing to your weird behaviour. You laughed awkwardly and hurried away to Asami who looked as mortified as you.

Asami and Korra told you sooner was better and so you tried to absorb all their tips on dates as they helped you dress and gave you a confidence boost. They left you with smirks and giggles outside Mako’s door and you sighed before knocking. Mako opened the door and you got the familiar warm feeling whenever you saw him. “Hey right on time” he smirked “come in!”. You walked inside cautiously and looked around. There were two beds, one very neat and one with lots of clothes and stuff piled on it. “Sorry that’s Bolin’s side of the room” Mako said following your eye “he’s not very...neat”. “It’s okay” you smiled and Mako nodded “so let’s get started”. He set the projector up against the wall and turned the lights off as you tried to act natural sat on his bed. Mako sat next to you and played the movie. “You know you don’t have to sit on the edge” Mako commented seeing you perched on the edge of the bed and you blushed “ow okay” and moved closer. You and Mako sat beside one another and it felt awkward at first but soon it felt more normal and you found yourself laughing and enjoying the movie, sharing popcorn with Mako, when the door went.  

You and Mako both looked at one another. "Are you expecting someone?" you asked and Mako shook his head "Bolin said he wouldn’t be back for hours" Mako said getting up to go open it when the door burst open. "So you are watching Nuktuk!" your cousin Wei cried "why didn’t you invite us?". Your counsins Wei, Wing and Huan all stared at you from the door and you looked to Mako awkwardly. You both just stammered you didn’t think to and they walked further into the room. "Of course we’d want to watch it cous!" Wing laughed elbowing you. Wing and Wei sat on either side of you and Mako forcing you to move closer so they could fit.  Huan followed but frowned "was it just you two in here? Alone?". You blushed not looking at Mako but nodded. "That’s not awkward' Huan sighed sitting down too and you were grateful Mako hastily played the movie. Watching a movie with your crush which was then crashed by your extended family was very awkward. You and Mako were sat so close he couldn’t move his arm without knocking you. Not to mention Wei and Wing kept leaning over to grab the popcorn pushing you into Mako or Mako into you. Huan critiqued the film so much you didn’t even hear most of it. You were completely lost in what was going on when suddenly it ended and you frowned. "Is anyone else lost?" Mako asked and Huan shook his head "it was a pretty basic film plot". "Well if i’d actually been able to hear it' Mako said under his breath and you smirked. Huan didn’t hear him as he’d gone back to arguing with Wei and Wing. 'Well the movers over we should go" Wei said jumping up and Wing and Huan nodded following him to the door. You sighed in relief thinking you’d be able to salvage something from this night when they all looked at you expectantly. "Y/n aren’t you coming?" Wei asked "it’s late" and Huan raised an eyebrow. "No of course I am" you nodded standing up too "goodnight Mako" you said formally and turned to follow your cousins who were practically escorting you back to your room. As soon as you were shut up in your room you slumped against the door and laughed. This was not how you wanted this night to go. You’d been so nervous about spending time alone with Mako when you hadn’t even managed to spend any time alone with him. This was your one excuse to get Mako alone and now it was ruined and there was no way Mako would ask you back for a second date. You jumped as there was a knock on your door and you snapped it open to see Mako stood there. "Mako" you blushed "what are you...". "You left your mover" Mako said holding out the tape to you. You nodded "ow sorry" and took it. "It’s fine" mako smiled "also i was wondering if you wanted to watch it again some time seeing as we both didn’t hear much". You smirked but nodded in disbelief "that’d be good". Mako smiled "good...y/n can i ask you something? I don’t want to read too much into this, especially because i really enjoy working with you and would hate to ruin our profesional relationship but y/n was this a date?". You froze and bit your lip "possibly i mean...it was just casual, it doesn’t have to be if you didn’t want it to be" you frowned but Mako shook his head "no i did want it to be...if you did". You blushed "you do?". Mako nodded "I’ve always respected you as a fellow officer but this trip seeing you away from republic city and actually acting like a normal teenager for once” he smirked at your frown ”well I started crushing on you but i didn’t want to read into something too much but if you want this to be a date then...". "Yes" you said cutting him off and then blushed how eager that sounded. "Good" Mako chuckled "i’m sorry our first date was so awkward i’ll make sure nobody bothers us on our second one" Mako grinned. You smirked "that sounds nice but tonight wasn’t all bad". Mako shrugged "true but I know something that will make it better". You looked at him confused when he kissed you swiftly. The guy was smooth which didn’t suprise you. What did suprise you was how confidently you kissed him back, how you didn’t feel nervous or vulnerable kissing him but confident and excited. Mako seemed suprised too but kissed you back undeterred. You seperated but Mako didn’t move away from you "now that was worth being sandwiched between your cousins". You chuckled and smirked up at him when someone came around the corner. Your mom looked from Mako’s arms around you to, to the way Mako was looking at you, to your close proximity to one another and sighed. You and Mako held your breath waiting for death threats, to be fired, a lecture or all three but none of that happened. "So this is why you were acting so weird" you mom said undetered "atleast he’s a good guy but really y/n a cop?". You went to argue but she smirked making you realise she was joking. "Just don’t let it effect your work okay?". You and Mako nodded stunned as you mom turned away. "Ow and Mako? You hurt my daughter I’ll break your face" Lin called "got it?". You cringed as Mako winced "got it" he called back awkwardly. "Still want that second date?" You asked only half joking but Mako grinned as soon as he looked at you "totally your mom can’t scare me away that easily". You blushed and mako smiled "it’s cute when you do that". You blushed even more and Mako grinned "so i’ll see you tomorrow night for the do over?". "Sounds good" you nodded and Mako smirked "it’s a date" and winked turning away down the coridoor. You blushed and felt the excitement in your stomach, your lips still tingling from the kiss. Tomorrow night couldn’t come quickly enough.

[eideticmemory]

EVER SINCE NEW YORK V | MATTHEW GRAY GUBLER

Description: I was messaged saying: “If you don’t write a young Matthew enemies to lovers fic featuring an obsession with sucking on boobs then what’s the point 😔.” So, here it is, folks! The ultimate College!Matthew fic.

PART 5! Read Part 4 here!

SOUNDTRACK:

Falling - Opia.

Her - Majid Jordan.

Daylight - Maroon 5.

Word Count: 4,619.

Rating: M.

Warning/Includes: Sexual intercourse, drinking, recreational drug use, a bit of angst.

Spring, Junior Year.

Las Vegas,

Nevada.

“Hey.”

You pulled up the cover, holding it over your body and looking down at Matthew. His head was perched between your legs, and his lips were covered in slickness. “Hey,” you replied. “What’s up?”

“Nothing,” he shrugged, and placed a kiss on your inner thigh. “Wanted to ask you something.”

“Right now?” 

He laughed, “Oh, relax, princess. You’ll get your nut. I just wanted to see if...maybe, you might wanna go to Vegas?”

“Vegas?” you mumbled. “Why?”

“A bunch of us are going for spring break. I’m gonna be everyone’s tour guide, my mom is putting us up for the week. You should come.”

“You know what?” You smiled. “I should come. I really, really should. So, c’mon, get back to it.” You grabbed onto his hair, twirling it on your fingers. 

“Bossy,” he whispered. He leaned down and continued to eat you out. Your head fell back against the pillow, you let out a happy sigh. 

“Worst timing ever, Matthew. Ask me in, like, 10 minutes.”

He stopped, gasping, “10 minutes?” 

“Fine, 15, 20, I don’t care. Just please—“

It took approximately 16 minutes. Matthew was able to get you off with his mouth in no time, and the two of you tangled together in a sloppy kiss. His cock pushed into you, his hand wrapped around your throat and you went dizzy as he pressed his fingers into your neck. It was three in the morning, soft music was playing through Matthew’s room, the lights were dim. The brief seperation last semester happened, it was over, and you both silently agreed that it shouldn’t happen again. 

Since returning from Christmas break last month, you’ve gone back to your late night schedule. Aside from seeing each other in class and parties and hangouts, you spent the hours between midnight and three AM at Matthew’s place. It often left you tired for your 8 o’clock class, but it was worth it. You were getting dicked down — very well, by the way — Matthew and you were getting along, laughing and cracking inside jokes with one another. Things were great. Hence, Matthew’s invitation to Nevada. 

“So?” He said, holding you against his chest after the deed was over. 

“So? So what?”

“Vegas? Spring break?”

“To meet your mommy?”

“Well—“ he stuttered. “Yeah, it’s her house, so you’ll probably meet her.”

“You gonna bring me home to your mom? And say ‘hey, mom, this is [y/n], my nutty buddy.’?” You laughed. 

“If that’s how you’d like to be introduced,” he shrugged. “I was just gonna tell her your name and keep it at that.”

“Wow, I’ve never been so honored!”

You shook his head at you, giggling, “A simple no would suffice.”

You looked up at him, a small smile on your lips, “I’ll go.”

“Huh?”

“I’ll go,” you repeated. “To Vegas. Count me in.” 

“Cool,” he smiled. “Cool.” 

“Only if Claire can come, too.”

He sighed, “Claire.”

“That’s my condition. Take it or leave it, dude.”

He took it.

You got a few hours rest in your own dorm, and woke up promptly to shower and get ready for class. When you got out of the bathroom, Claire was awake, brushing her teeth in front of the mirror. 

“Hey,” you grinned, drying off your hair. 

“Morning!” She pipped.

“Hey,” You began to get dressed. “You didn’t have plans for spring break, did you?”

“In what world would I have spring break plans that you don’t know about?” She asked. 

“Right,” you nodded. “So, how would you feel about going to Vegas?” 

Claire stopped applying her makeup and turned to you, “Vegas?”

“Yeah. We fly out the Sunday before break. What do you think?”

She leaned against the wall, her eyebrows furrowed slightly. “Sunday...” she whispered. “This wouldn’t be, uh, the trip Matthew’s taking everyone on, would it?”

You took a step back, freezing from buttoning your shirt. “Well...yeah, I guess. I’m not sure, I just got invited by someone else.”

“Who?”

“Huh?”

“Who invited you?”

“Um—“

“Cause I can’t think of anyone in our friend group that would invite you on Gube’s trip, knowing...how you feel about him.” She crossed her arms.

“So...is that a no to Vegas?” 

She sighed, shook her head, “C’mon, [y/n]...”

“What?”

“Are you...are you fucking Matthew again?”

Her words hit like a bullet. They blew through you like a disaster, racking your stomach with nerves and knots and fear. You felt yourself falling in this pit of despair, of terror, the realization that your worst fear had come to life. And you could only say one thing: 

“Huh?”

“Oh, God!” She shouted. “You are! You’re fucking Matthew again!”

You gasped, “C-Claire, what...what are you talking about?” 

“Oh, cut the shit, [y/n]! I saw you guys in the pool at the beach house, okay?”

You sighed deeply, closing your eyes and ducking your head to avoid her gaze.

“Claire...”

“He treated you like trash, [y/n]! He fucked me, he fucked you, and broke your heart—“

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, please. The Roni thing had you depressed for weeks. And I thought maybe Alex was getting your mind off it. Oh, my God, [y/n], tell me you did not dump Alex to mess around with Matthew. Please, please tell me you have not been running around here, letting Matthew Gubler put his dick in you.”

“Stop!” You shouted. 

“What is it about him? I used to have to pay you five bucks just to be in the same room as him. Now, he’s got you out at all hours of the night, and running off to Vegas?”

“What’s your deal, Claire?”

“My deal is that you’re my best friend. My very best friend. You deserve better.”

“I’m going to class,” you muttered. You continued to fix your outfit, moving on to your hair — which you quickly styled. You grabbed your backpack and headed out without another word. From you or Claire. 

You didn’t mention this spat to Matthew. You just began spending an abnormal amount of time at his place, but he didn’t mind. He welcomed you with open arms, supplied you with an ample amount of sex. He helped you study, waited up for you after ballet practice, and always, always kissed you goodbye when you left. 

When spring break rolled around, Claire and you weren’t on speaking terms. She was well aware that all the time you were spending away was spent with Matthew, and she refused to entertain it. She spoke roommate business with you, kept things civil, but there were no late night movie marathons or afternoon lunches. 

“I’m leaving for Vegas,” you told her, hauling your suitcase. 

“Okay,” she replied, flipping through a book on her bed, and not looking up from it.

You sighed, “Okay.”

Matthew greeted you at the airport, keeping his distance to keep from alerting the rest of your friends to the relationship. “Hey, where’s Claire?”

You gulped, “Um, uh, she’s not coming. I didn’t tell you?”

“Oh. No, you didn’t. Everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine. Hey, how much money do you think I can win in one week?” You changed the subject.

He giggled, “I’m gonna have to keep my eye on you, aren’t I?”

“And keep me close,” you whispered. “Very close.”

You sat separately on the plane, but took the same car to his house. Matthew held the door open for everyone, winking at you as you came in last. His house was charming, had family photos plastered on the wall. 

“Aw, look,” you murmured to him, pointing at a baby picture of him on the wall. “Little Matthew!”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, keep it moving,” he rolled his eyes, and put his hand on your lower back, guiding you through the house. 

The group gathered in the living room, silently admiring the place. “My boy!” Matthew’s mom exclaimed, rushing from the kitchen with her arms wide open. This big smile grew out on Matthew’s face, and it made you smile instantly. His mom engulfed him a tender hug, holding him close, rubbing his back.

“Mom, you remember everyone,” Matthew said, his arm around his mom’s shoulders. He renamed everyone in the room, pointing them out to her. “And this is [y/n],” he motioned to you, giving you a faint smile. 

“Hi, Mrs. Gubler,” you greeted her. You reached out to shake her hand, and she shook it softly. 

“[y/n]...” She whispered, subtly glancing at Matthew. “Okay. Nice to meet you, [y/n].”

“Nice to meet you too.”

Matthew quickly ushered everyone upstairs. He showed your friends to the guest rooms, and while they were getting squared away, you waited in the hall patiently. He came up to you, your smiles mirroring each other’s, and the distance between you two was dangerously small.

“So, should I just set up my stuff out here? Lay down in the corridor?” You chuckled.

He shook his head, “Come on.” He grabbed your hand and your suitcase, and led you down the hallway. He pulled you into a bedroom on the right, set your stuff down on the mattress, and closed the door. 

“This is my room?” You asked.

“It sure is,” he nodded. “And the best part about it is that, there’s a room right next door.” He took slow strides up to you, a smirk on his face. You let him wrap his arms around you waist, pull you close. “And... tonight, or, every night this week, the door to that bedroom will be open. Real late at night. If you’d like to come check it out.”

“Oh, yeah?” You mumbled. 

“Yeah,” he put his forehead against yours, sighing. “I have to go talk to my mom. Be here when I get back.” 

“I might be,” you shrugged, watching him as he separated his body from yours. He gave you one last smile before leaving. 

Downstairs, Matthew’s mom was cleaning up the living room, talking to his roommate Steve. Matthew took a seat on the couch, kicking his feet up on the table. “Hey, my love! Is everyone settled in?” She asked Matthew. 

“Yeah, yeah, they’re getting there,” he replied.

“And your girlfriend?” She added.

He cut his eyes up to her, then Steve. Steve was chuckling under his breath. “I don’t have a girlfriend, mom.” 

“Oh? [y/n]’s not your girlfriend?”

“What? No,” he shook his head. “No. She’s not.”

“She’s new. I’ve never met her before.”

“Yeah...well, she...she’s my...uh—“

“Are you guys...are you...” His mom hesitated. He looked up at her, confused, until she raised her eyesbrows at him suggestively. 

“Oh, God, mom! Don’t ask me that!” He groaned, hopping up from the couch.

“I’ll explain.” Steve directed at Matthew’s mother. Matthew stopped in his tracks, and look at Steve, his arms crossed. “Matthew’s in love with [y/n].” 

“What?” Matthew shouted. “I am not—why would you say that?” His face turned bright red, the words flailing from his lips in jumbled stutters. 

“Oh, you really like her,” his mom grinned. 

“I don’t!” Matthew’s voice squeaked. 

“Matthew, I saw the way you two looked at each other. I saw how you came in with her, how you introduced her. You like her.”

“I’m hungry. Who’s hungry? I’m gonna see if everyone wants to go out for dinner.” Matthew rambled as he left the room. 

Matthew didn’t speak to you much throughout the day. He let you ride in his car, but not in the front seat. He started to pull the chair out for you at dinner, but played it off like that wasn’t his intention. It was his idea to show you all a nearby bar, and there, he was knocking drinks back, partying with friends, joking around. When you smiled at him, he pretended not to notice, and ducked his head down. And while your friends were keeping you plenty happy, you suddenly didn’t feel like being out anymore. 

You took an uber back to Matthew’s house, alone, and let yourself in through the back door as he had mentioned earlier. It was nearly two in the morning, pitch black, and you wound up getting lost upstairs. You waltzed into your room, at least you thought so. But when you opened the door, you came face to face with a room covered in movie posters, decorated with spooky trinkets. There was a blue undertone, a full size bed pushed against the wall and it smelled of smoke and mint. 

“You found it.”

“Ah!” You jumped, and turned around. “Fuck,” you huffed. “I’ve gotta get you a bell or something. What the hell, Matthew?”

“Why’d you leave tonight?” Matthew asked, stepping in and closing the door.

“I was tired. I wanted to sleep.” You shrugged. 

“In here?”

“I got lost. I can leave,” you sighed, and started heading for the door. 

Matthew grabbed onto your waist, and pulled your body into his. “What’s up, princess?” 

“Nothing. What’s up with you?” You scoffed. 

“What’s the supposed to mean?”

“You’ve been weird tonight! Why? Is it your mom? Are you — are you not comfortable with me being here?” 

“What? That’s crazy—“

“No, it’s not. Maybe me being here was a bad idea.” 

Matthew sighed, and ran his fingers through your hair. He turned away and walked up to his dresser, “You wanna know one reason I’m so excited to have you here?” 

You stared at the ground shyly, “Why?” 

He rummaged through his things, pulling out a small object that he craddled in his hands. “Because here...I have this.” He held up a sleek, professional looking camera.

You eyed it, stumped, “A go-pro?” 

“Yeah,” he shrugged. “Thought we could put it to use.” 

You tried to stifle your grin, “Put it to use?”

“Yeah. Let’s make a movie.”

You laughed dryly, “A movie?” 

“Yeah. A dirty one.” 

“Um...no!” You exclaimed. 

“Why not?” 

“Because...icky.”

He chuckled, “It’s not icky. It’s the same thing we always do. Just caught on film. C’mon, please? Pleeeease? I’ll make it tasteful.”

You rolled your eyes and exhaled, eyeing him intently. “Fine,” you agreed. “But, I have one condition.” 

“Name it.”

His bed was comfortable, soft. It permanently smelled like him. You laid on your back, your dress pushed up your thighs, and your panties laid on the floor. You held the tiny camera in your hands and had the lense aimed between your legs. You tried not to moan too loudly, Matthew working his mouth on you underneath the bed sheets. He was putting on a performance, twirling his tongue on your clit, sucking on it, humming in delight. 

You couldn’t help but touch his nose, admiring the way it sat on his face and grazed against your pelvis. You pressed your fingertip onto the bridge of his nose and ran it down to the tip, smiling down at him. He opened his eyes and peered in the camera. Watching on the camera screen, you couldn’t help but gasp at the sight of his irises, his gaze filled with intensity and lust. 

You tangled your fingers in his hair, your thumb tracing his cheekbone, “Come suck on my tits.” You commanded. 

He grinned, and he quietly began to kiss up your stomach. You kept the camera close to his face, capturing his every move. His tongue swirled around your nipple, and you had to push his hair out of his face to catch the action. The camera picked up the sound of your whimpers, the sight of Matthew gropping your breasts, his lips on you. 

Matthew kissed a trail up to your neck, sucking on your skin, so you could angle the camera and get a nice little shot of the two of you bundled up. “Give me this,” he whispered, taking the camera from your hand. 

He sat back and filmed himself undoing his pants, pulling his cock out and stroking himself. “Want me to fuck you?” He asked, and angled the camera at your face. You looked into the lense and nodded, twirling your hair on your finger. 

He bit down on his lip, pointed the camera back down at his cock, and pushed the tip into you. He listened to the wet sound of him sinking inside of you, pulling out halfway and them slamming back in. You tensed up and gripped onto the duvet cover, gasping. He immediately focused the camera on your face, watching through the screen as he pounded into you. 

“Fuck,” you muttered, your eyes rolling back. Matthew was practically drooling over you, huffing and puffing as he writhed on top of you. His shoulder were too far away for you to grab onto, but you dug your nails into his torso. You face was laced with pleasure and estacy, sweat forming on your forehead, your lips parted slightly. 

Matthew’s other hand held onto your face, his thumb tracing over your bottom lip. He continued to record your face as his thumb slid into your mouth. 

“Look at me,” he begged. “Look at me.”

Your eyes flickered up the camera, your lips tightened around his thumb and he nearly exploded. “Oh, God, you’re so hot,” he huffed. “You’re so fucking hot, princess.”

You whimpered against his skin, your jaw dropping down to release strangled moans. His hand dropped down to cup your boob, massage it between his fingers. He centered the camera on your chest, watching as your boobs bounced up and down. The camera followed his hand down to your clit, and he recorded himself fucking you and rubbing the sensitive nerve. You trembled underneath his touch, beginning to fall apart. 

“You gonna come, baby?” He panted, camera pointed at your face. You nodded quickly, your face hot, your lip caught between your teeth. “Come on, come on my cock.”

His voice sent you over the edge, and the camera caught everything. You — quivering, groaning, moaning, gritting your teeth. It set Matthew on fire. He fucked you through your orgasm, until you were melting into the mattress. His hips bucked into you sloppily, and aggressively, now videoing his cock with the camera. 

He moved the camera perfectly, capturing the moment he pulled out and came on your dress. His hand moved quickly to jerk himself off, until every last drop was on the fabric. He crumbled into a fit of breathy groans, hunching over and trying to catch his breath. 

“My dress,” you whined.

“Well,” he sighed, shutting the camera off. “Guess you’ll just have to take it off then.” 

By the time spring break was over, the two of you had made 5 videos. The number of times you fucked, however, was much greater. You were grateful for an opportunity to get back at him for every hickey he’d given you in the past. You constantly left marks on him that he had to hide from his mother, and you enjoyed every second of his squirming. Feeling much looser and more relaxed in Vegas, the two of you fell into a comfortable rhythm. Still secretive, still sneaky, just...less. You even got up the courage to sit on his lap in front of everyone, and no one said a word. 

They did, however, let you sit with him on the plane ride home. 

Matthew gave you a kiss on the cheek before you headed back to your dorm. You stepped up to your front door, took in a deep breath, and stared at the peephole. You weren’t ready. Ready to tell Claire everything that had happened. Even though there was no one in the world you wanted to tell more. But she had made her feelings about the situation very clear, and you had to respect that. So, instead of facing up to her right away, you left. You didn’t even think about why, or where you were going. Because the destination was obvious.

“[y/n]?” Matthew said as he answered the door. He looked down, noticing your suitcase still at your side. “Everything okay?” 

“Yeah, I, uh, locked myself out the room. Can I stay here for a bit? Just until Claire gets back.” You asked.

“Yeah, of course,” he nodded, letting you into the suite. 

You got to his room and instantly crashed on his bed, feeling so comfortable. “Jet lag?” He laughed.

“Amongst other things.”

“You really need to let your body adjust to the time change.”

“Mhm,” you hummed, pulling the covers over your body and snuggling into the pillows. He laughed at you, and sighed. Then he crawled into bed with you, and you let him hold you close. Thinking you were falling asleep, Matthew lightly ran his fingers down your cheek. It was soft and gentle and felt nice. And you desperately wished for a way to have this. To have him. Without losing your best friend.

But things between you and Claire just got worse. 

Over the next few weeks, she not only kept you at arms length, but Matthew as well. Despite living with you, she found creative ways to keep your conversations short and brief, and oftentimes would leave before you got back from Matthew’s. And despite being Matthew’s friend, she managed to avoid him at every party, every class. It just sucked. Because you were so, so happy, and then there was Claire. 

“We have to move out,” she grumbled as she entered the room.

“What?” You were stocking your mini fridge, but stopped to look at her. 

“They’re kicking us out because of this goddamn virus! Fuck!” She shouted. 

“What? Where’d you hear that?” 

“The school just sent out an email.”

You rushed over to your bed, grabbing your phone off your mattress. The email notification popped up, causing a vibration in your hand, and you opened the app right away. All NYU students to be moved out of campus housing by Sunday.

“Sunday?” You shouted. “Sunday? They expect me to pack all my shit in 4 days?”

Claire would’ve responded, but she was too busy already getting her stuff together, and you were occupied with rampant thoughts about, well, everything. You’d have to pack. Everything. Clear out your room. You’d have to call home. Have someone help. Fuck. You’d have to live at home. Home. For months. You couldn’t go out on campus, couldn’t see your friends, your friends!

Matthew. Oh, God. Matthew. 

He crossed your mind everyday for the next 2 days, as you packed your room into boxes and bags. He didn’t attempt to contact you, probably too busy with his own packing. Your family would be picking you up Saturday morning. So, you felt it best to go say goodbye on Friday. 

It was almost midnight, and you had just finished packing. You stood outside of Matthew’s bedroom door for a long time, after having been let in by his suitemate. Before you could knock, the door swung open and the two of you nearly collided. 

“Oh! [y/n].”

“Hey.”

“Hey,” he mumbled. “I was just on my way to see you.”

“You were?”

“Yeah.”

“I, uh, I’m leaving tomorrow morning. So, I wanted to come say...goodbye.” The words were hard to push out, and they hit Matthew even harder. His heart sunk to his stomach, and he wanted to do anything, anything, to make it go away. 

He grabbed onto your face and pulled you into a passionate kiss. You instinctively gripped onto his shirt, your face contorted in shock and confusion. He pulled you into the room, slamming the door behind you. 

“Matthew,” you whispered, but he continued to press his lips to yours. “Matthew.” You repeated as he began to kiss your neck. Your legs started to go weak, your breathing sped up. “Matthew, wait.”

He stopped abruptly and looked you in the eye, your face in his palm. “What is it?”

“I just—“ you sighed. “Are you okay?”

He digested the words for a second, looking down at you with a soft gaze. He kissed you once again, arms now around your waist, chest pressed against yours. You gave in. You both needed this. 

It was hungry. Eager. Clothes were torn off in less than a minute. Matthew pushed you onto the bed, tangled his fingers in your hair and devoured your body. He left a trail of hickies from your neck, to your chest, to your rib cage. The sensation was so overwhelming that you couldn’t do anything but stare at the ceiling, attempting to control your breathing. 

Soft kisses on your thighs led to an intense session of him eating you out, him pressing you against his face, his tongue encircling your clit. You rolled your hips against his mouth, gasping his name and pulling his hair. He worked himself to the brink, his jaw going numb, until you cried out his name as you came. It was an other-worldly, hypersensitive, super sonic orgasm. And it took you a minute to recover. 

His body laid on top of yours, his lips on your neck, his torso between your legs. You whined into your mouth as he pressed his dick in you, slowly, gently, until he was buried inside you. You could feel his arm muscles contracting and relaxing under your touch. His breath hit your shoulder with each quiet groan that escaped his lips. He put his forehead against yours, watching your face as he moved in and out of you at a steady pace.

You hummed softly, and kissed his lips, then his cheek, then his neck. His mouth dropped open, and he couldn’t stop himself from moaning. “Oh, my God, [y/n],” he panted. He never said your name to you. Ever. Very rarely. Especially not in bed. And it tore you apart. You held onto him for dear life and looked him in the eye as you massaged your clit.

Your moans increased in volume together, both of you nearing your release at once. You whimpered uncontrollably, your eyes fluttering closed. You couldn’t see Matthew watching you, but he was. He watched the way your hair framed your face, your expression of pleasure. He placed soft kisses all over your face, and the moment he caught your lips on his, you came. You accidentally bit down on his lip, and he let out a weak moan.

“S-sorry,” you whispered. 

“It’s okay,” he nodded. “It’s okay. Are you okay?”

“I’m okay. Are you okay?”

“I’m okay, baby.”

He followed his words with a grunt, slamming himself into you. Your chests rubbed against each other’s, the bed squeaked along with the movement of Matthew’s hips. His moans became breathy, vulnerable, and he proactively pulled himself out of you. You dazedly reached down and stroked his cock, watching his face as he trembled. He said your name again, faintly, very faintly, in a fit of moans as he released himself onto your stomach. 

You were sticky and sweaty and gross — both of you — but you held each other close, panting and wheezing. 

You spent the night at his dorm for the first time that night. The two of you slept cuddled up, his head on your chest, your arms wrapped around each other. At six in the morning, you woke up and slid out of bed without waking Matthew. You kept your vision away from him as you got dressed. And when you were ready to go, you turned to him and admired him.

He looked peaceful, soft. You wanted nothing more than to wake him up, stay in bed with him for hours. But you couldn’t, and you wouldn’t. So you gave him a kiss on top of his head, and you left.

[PART 6.]