#talking about the stupid day to day shit and wondering is this all there is for us? forever?

[sturnlsstuff]

FAMILIAR STRANGER | chapter six

what's gonna happen when you find out about your enemy's biggest secret?

ghostface!chris x enemy!reader

chapter five

— warnings; smut with plot, dom!chris, sub!reader, fingering, unprotected p in v, rough, creampie, dirty talk, pet names, bratty reader, cursing, - english isn't my first language.

~~~

you have gone through many stressful situations in your life. most of the time you didn't care about anything, always chilling and thinking logically, not emotionally. however, there were moments when even you started losing your shit and they were always more intense than they should have been. one of them, for example, was taking your driving test, which kept you up at night. or your 18th birthday that stressed you out so much that you had to drink a bottle of wine alone before the party to get rid of the anxiety. or choosing what college you wanna go to, and whether you'll even get there or not. lots of stressful days in your life, lots of situations.

but your heart had never beat as fast as it did in this moment.

your thumb hovering over the 'send' button while you consider all the pros and cons of what you're doing. biting your lower lip nervously, feeling the taste of blood in your mouth, but even this doesn't stop you. you had to make a decision whether to text chris or not, and that wasn't supposed to be so stressful, but it was.

after he left you alone in his room at the party, you didn't see him at all. after fixing your makeup, you went back downstairs and found emma, telling her you were going home, needing to process whatever happened in chris's room and how it made you feel. she knew you were with someone, anyone would notice by the state you were in, even if you tried to make yourself look presentable for twenty minutes in front of the mirror in chris's room. somehow you managed to get rid of emma and her questions for now, ignoring her for two days. in fact ignoring everyone, needing some time alone, but it didn't feel like you were by yourself at all, with the way chris was in your mind every second of the day.

finally, before you could change your mind, you sent the message and threw your phone to the other end of the couch, hugging your legs to your chest and clutching your heated cheeks as if that would somehow help you. tense silence remains in the living room for the next two minutes, as you start to regret texting him.

another five minutes and you finally reach for your phone, ready to delete the message when you see three dots showing that he is replying. with w muffled scream, your phone flies across the room as you throw it again, a notification indicating a new message heard. for a second you just sit still, wheels turning in your head, but then you almost jump from your place, your legs on the couch, the rest of your body hanging off it as you steady yourself with one hand on the floor, the other picking up your phone and reading the message. you could feel the blood rushing to your head.

"bitch," you mutter to yourself, looking at the screen in pure disbelief. there's no way you were stressing for the past hour to send that fucking simple message, overthinking all night if you should even text him and how to do it to not sound too desperate, even wondering if three question marks is too much and maybe you should put one, and he just said he's busy.

unfortunately for him, you weren't a person who gave up easily, and if you finally decided to talk to him, you will do everything to make it happen. so you reply back, not having to wait for his response too long.

you roll your eyes, upset that you even tried to start any conversation with him, that you wasted the entire day yesterday and today thinking about him when he was clearly busy and definitely not overthinking anything like you did. you're not only mad at him, but also at yourself for being so stupid. after all it was chris, there's nothing to talk about here. he had his way with you and that's it, nothing changes.

not that you wanted it to change anyway.

leaving him on seen, you decide to take care of yourself a little bit, to relaxe since this stress made you feel and look terrible, bags under your eyes after two sleepless nights. so the next hour you spend in your bathtub, cool music filling your ears as you read a book, careful not to make it wet.

then you hear a noise coming from your room, at first thinking it's some hallucination from the lack of sleep, so you stop the music and listen, immediately hearing another muffled bang that makes you jump out of the tub, almost soaking your book. cursing under your breath, you wrap a towel around your waist, looking around to find anything which could be useful in defense. all you find is a glass flowerpot, so you take it, poking your head out from behind the bathroom door.

silence.

you carefully step out of the bathroom, water dripping onto the floor from your body as you walk slowly barefoot towards your room where the door was slightly open. it seemed stupid to go there, but you were acting out of adrenaline.

you heard another curse and the sound of the window closing, a frown appearing between your eyebrows as you gently opened the door, ready to attack whoever the fuck was in your room, clutching the flowerpot in one hand and holding the towel that was sliding off your body with the other.

"chris, what the fuck?!" your eyes wide as he turns around to look at you, dressed as a ghostface.

"i got fuckin' stuck," he removes his mask, running his hand through his hair, eyes immediately traveling up and down your wet body, covered by nothing but some thin towel.

immediately pressing the material against your body, now feeling strangely naked, your expression questioning him before your mouth could. he rolls his eyes, "told ya to remember 'bout closin' this fuckass window, didn't i?" he takes off his robe, leaving him in black pants and a t-shirt, his gaze had not left your figure, a strange shiver pass through him, which he only felt around you. "i knocked on the door, but you didn't answer again."

"couldn't you call me?"

he blinks stupidly, his eyes moving back up, "right." then he notices the flower pot in your hand, a low mocking laugh leaving his lips, "wanted to kill me with this?"

you glance at the flower pot, rolling your eyes and walking into the room to put it on the desk, feeling his eyes on you. "i was taking a bath, you idiot—" turning around, you almost jump when he's suddenly in front of you.

"i noticed," he smirks, tilting his head to the side. you try to ignore his intense gaze, "what do you want anyway?"

"you wanted to talk."

"weren't you busy?"

"took care of that," he retors. your eyebrow arches up as you peak out behind him at the mask and knife placed on the bed. "yes," he simply says, noticing your expression. you didn't need to know anything else.

"well, okay," clearing your throat, you grab some clean clothes from the dryer. "let me get dressed first."

"no need to rush," at the stare you give him, chris lifts his hands up in surrender and flops on your bed just as you leave the room.

you put on some shorts and a two size too big shirt, quickly cleaning up the bathroom as well. honestly, you were playing on time. you didn't expect him to come after he definitely said no in the text, and now you had no idea what to tell him, and the stress you were feeling earlier came back stronger than before.

finally finding the courage you leave the bathroom, finding chris in the living room looking at the photos you had on the wall. stopping in the doorway, you quickly tie your hair into a ponytail.

"i remember that," he points at one picture with you, him, his brothers and nate on it after one of your old friend's birthday party. you liked this one a lot.

"crazy night—"

"we danced together," he says casually though his voice a little weaker as if the memory of it was doing something to him. you're taken back that he even remembers since he was awfully high that night.

"yeah..." your voice unsure since neither of you ever mentioned it before. "-- yeah, we did."

the corner of his mouth twitches into a smile but he quickly hides it, licking his lips and settling on the couch. you take the seat next to him, keeping your distance.

after a short silence, he speaks up, "it was fun. that party." you agree with a nod of your head. that night you two were pretty chill, he was high, you were drunk and both of you just had fun, for a few hours not remembering that you disliked each other. sometimes you thought of it and wondered why couldn't it be like this all the time.

"so," he clears his throat, getting more comfortable on the couch, arm resting on the back of the sofa as he looks at you. "what's this super important conversation you've wanted to have with me?" his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"uh, right... about that—" you think about how to put it into words, heart pounding in your chest while your brain working at full speed. finally you just blurt out mindlessly, "we fucked."

chris raises an eyebrow, his expression unreadable, "really? didn't notice."

you open your mouth and then close it again, trying to ignore his comment. taking a deep breath, you continue, "i mean... well, i was kind of drunk, let's be honest. so i didn't think—"

"c'mon, kid, we both know you'd fuck me even sober," he rolls his eyes, slight annoyance in his tone at the clear delusion coming from you.

"that's literally not even close to what i'm talking about..." a wave of heat washes over you from embarrassment of being called out like that. you had to find some excuse, because to be honest, you didn't know how you ended up in chris's bed. well, you knew how, but you needed some explanation for yourself. though, what you're for sure aware of, is that the desire and arousal you felt was real. "it was, like, another moment of weakness."

"you got a lot of 'em with me recently," he teases, scanning your face as if looking for something. for a moment you were speechless from the intensity of his blue eyes. and chris noticed it. of course he did. "it was good though..." he adds, his voice lower now.

you try hard not to look too nervous while agreeing, "yeah... it was." his lips curve into that smirk you knew so well while he shamelessly checked you out again, his eyes lingering on your exposed thighs for too long. noticing that, you quickly add, "it shouldn't have happened and we won't do it again."

"yeahhhh," his tongue clicks against his teeth. chris makes eye contact with you again and that's when you know you're screwed. "we won't."

with these words you look at each other too long and too intensely, almost as if communicating between the words. and you didn't even know when or how you ended up straddling his lap, gripping his shoulders desperately trying to steady yourself while he pumps his fingers rapidly into your cunt, curling them up to hit that sweet spot inside you. his thumb rubs circles around your clit, applying just the right amount of pressure. the ghostface mask is back on his face, making you clench around his fingers. it all happened in less than ten minutes, that's how weak you were for chris and how addicted to you he's become.

"mhmmm, look at you... so fuckin' pretty, drippin' all over my hand..." he says, his voice hoarse with arousal. his cock was rock hard already, uncomfortably straining against his pants. "your body doesn't lie, even if your mouth does," chris watches you closely, taking note of the way your chest heaves, lips parted with little whimpers escaping them.

"chris— mmmh, f-fuck.... so... so g-good— oh!" your walls tighten around his fingers, hips slightly grinding against his hand. he flexes his fingers inside you, stretching you, his thumb on your clit picking up speed.

he smirks to himself at how responsive you are to him, "you jus' fuckin' love when i manhandle you, huh?" he adds a third finger, scissoring them, his other hand tugging on your hair, forcing you to keep your eyes on his mask. chris was now aware of the effect it had on you and it was making him so turned on. "constantly tryin' to make me mad, messin' with my fuckin' head, kid... not really nice of you."

you let out a loud pornographic moan when his fingers once again curl inside you, hitting your g-spot perfectly, his thumb pressing more against your bud. at the feeling of you tightening around him, a low groan escapes his lips. "thaaaat's it— yes, c'mon, give it to me... show me how bad you fuckin' hate me..."

"chris!" your eyes roll back as euphoria consumes you, head dropping forward onto his shoulder. "my... god...f-fuck you—"

he pumps his fingers languidly to ride out your orgasm, drawing out your pleasure for as long as he can. "mhm, i will," he smirks, slowing down his movements. "no need to rush, princess." he finally pulls his fingers out of you, lifting up your head, "open up."

as you obey, he brings his fingers into your mouth, your tongue immediately cleaning them up, tasting your own release on your tongue. "fuckkk—" he bucks his hips up, his clothed hardness pressing against your swollen bud, stealing another whimper from you.

you were sure you had lost your mind. you really wanted to make it clear today, that what happened at friday couldn't happen again, but it was so hard when he was... him.

"chris, we need to stop," you say as soon as he removes his fingers out of your mouth, immediately placing them back between your legs, gently caressing your swollen folds and spreading your wetness around, which makes you flinch from the over sensation.

"stop sayin' that when you react so strongly to me," his other hand moving to unzip his pants and pull them down his hips, freeing his leaking with precum dick. you look at him, the ghostface mask sending shivers straight into your core and you already know there's no coming back. "so?" he asks, gripping your hips, "still wanna stop?"

"no," you mutter annoyed at the way he was making you feel. chris bites his bottom lip with a grin, his body begging for any kind of release. he's never wanted anyone so badly. he lifts you up a little, then impaling you on his length in one swift, deep motion. both of you moan, his head throwing back at the feeling of your tight walls sucking him in. he missed this.

"fuckkk, you jus' feel so good..." he praises, holding you still for a moment to savor the feeling of being burned inside you. then he starts pounding into you, his grip on your hips painful as he doesn't let you move at all, wanting to have the control over everything.

"...what a fuckin' slut you are f'me— jesus..." he looks down, watching as he slams deep into your heat, not caring about the noises or the mess. he's too far gone to worry about anything expect the feeling of your tight pussy wrapped around his dick. "sooo perfect, fuck— and what'd you say, huh?" he pants, looking up at your full of pleasure expression. "not happening again? fuckin' watch."

you're practically bouncing on him from the strength with which chris fucks you from below, your walls immediately clenching around him, the overstimulation from your previous orgasm makes your head spin.

"chris, s-so-- deep..." you whine, gasping for air as he changes the position to get a better angle. he flips you onto your back on the sofa, pressing your knees against your stomach which caused him to go even deeper.

"yeah? you like to feel my fuckin' cock? look..." his fingers wraps around your wrist and he moves your hand to the noticeable bulge in your gut as he slides in and out of your wet pussy. the feeling of him like that, makes your toes curl as you quickly feel your second release approaching.

"gonna... c-cum! oh—" your whines and moans now filling the room with chris's eventual groans when he feels you constantly clenching around his dick.

"come all over me, c'mon... and m'gonna fill you up, yeah? gonna do it so fuckin' deep, you'll be leakin' my shit for days..." he snarls, his thrusts becoming harder as another orgasm washes over you, your eyes locked on his ghostface mask, even if you could barely keep them open. he doesn't even slow down while you tremble from the intensity of your release, moans leaving your lips and back arching up. "squeezin' me so tight, shiiittt— you were made f'me...."

with a feral groan, he buries himself as deep as he can, his dick pulsing as he explodes inside you, his hot seed filling your cunt to the brim. both of you panting, chris props himself on his hands of each side of your body so as not to crash you with his weight. both of you panting heavy, your eyes now closed while you try to come back on earth.

once the last waves of his climax subside, he pulls out with a wet squelch, his cum dripping out of your hole. a smirk appears on his lips at your disheveled form as he takes the mask off, pulling back to have a better look on your swollen, glistening cunt. just as your legs weakly were about to drop onto the couch, he grips your thighs, keeping you spread open for him. "that's a sight..." he runs a finger through the mess he'd made, making you whimper. "sensitive much?" his tone mocking. his fingers slipping between your folds, gathering as much as he could of his and yours release and pushing it back inside, a muffled scream escaping you.

"chris!" you smack his hand away, your legs automatically try to close. he tsks, his face full of mock innocence, "what? just cleanin' you up." his eyes glistening when he makes eye contact with you and he adds, "unless you wan' me to lick it off instead?"

"no, thanks," you mutter fully aware he'd love to overstimulate you.

"a'ight, drama queen," he rolls his eyes, grabbing the tissues from the coffee table, cleaning his own mess before passing them to you. he sits up, pulling his pants up while you proper yourself on your elbows, starting to clean up.

a silence remains in the living room, he takes a rolled joint from his pocket, placing it between his lips, and looks towards you noticing how your hands and legs are shaking a little. you weren't able to clean yourself thoroughly, the mix of your and his cum running down your inner thighs.

"kid," he lights up the joint, taking a long drag. "the fuck you doin'?"

you give him a death stare, "it's quite clear to see."

he exhales, smoke billowing out as he speaks, "but, like... you don't— just..." he groans, putting the joint back between his lips, his voice muffled, "--fuckin' gimme it... can't even clean y'self up, jesus... so annoying..."

chris practically snatches the tissues from your hands as he spreads your legs, ignoring your confused and surprised expression. he simply starts wiping the mess between your legs, his touch strangely tender, "can't do shit with that shaky ass hands..." he keeps commenting under his nose more to himself than to you, the smoke from his joint filling the room.

you watch mesmerized, as he grabs the joint between the fingers of one hand, the other still focused on the task, his tongue poking out at the corner of his mouth in concentration. he was gentle, or at least chris tried to be when he saw how red and puffy your pussy looked. it was such a simple action but it made your heart do a backflip. and not only you felt this way, chris himself was somehow, almost nervous.

he finally catches up on your stare, a frown appearing between his eyebrows, "the fuck you lookin' at..." his eyes traveling to the marks he left on your hips, some of the bruises older from friday, others fresh and reddish. this sight fills him with a sense of pride. he finally leans back on the couch, throwing the used tissues aside, glancing back at you. "stop starin', kid."

your face all flushed as you finally tear your eyes away from his and manage to sit up, adjusting your shirt and looking around for your sweatpants.

"here," he hands them to you, taking another drag on his joint. you put your clothes back on, wondering what the hell was going on.

you sit next to him still slightly breathless, after a moment he passes you the joint, neither of you looking at each other as you take it.

"y'know..." chris finally speaks up, "for someone who claims to hate me so much, you sure do let me do all sorts of nasty things to ya."

that's what causes you to finally make eye contact with chris, annoyance flickering through your face at the sudden call out. "for someone who claims to hate me so much, you sure want to do a lot of nasty things to me."

he smirks amused at your response, looking like you exhale the smoke. "well, yeah, hating you and being insanely attracted t'you aren't mutually exclusive, y'know..." you raise your eyebrows as he continues, "besides i never said i hated you, i jus' said i hated you."

the clear confusion and how your cheeks were burning after his words, makes chris's grin widen. "what the fuck is the difference?"

"don' worry 'bout it," he retors, grabbing the joint from between your fingers to finish it.

"insanely attracted to me, huh?" you process his words. chris rolls his eyes, "insanely is a strong word actually, what i meant is—"

"nuh, uh," you interrupted him with a grin on your face, pointing your finger at him. "you said what you wanted to say."

"no, i—

"lalala, i can't hear youuuu," you cover your ears like a kid, the mix of annoyance and amusement building up within him. "you're a child," he puts out the butt of the joint in some empty can on the coffee table, and takes your hands away from your ears. "child."

you just smile, feeling unfamiliar warm spreading across your chest. it was strange, chris usually saw you smiling but at other people, not at him. it made him want to... kiss you? hold you?

"weirdo," he mutters, leaning back, but there's no usual bite in his tone. his arm rests on the back of the sofa behind you, his wheels turning around in his head. he glances at your side profile, his tongue clicking against his teeth, "i always wondered why you were with this idiot jake." you're taken back, glancing at him with a frown, but it doesn't discourage him from continuing. chris felt like he has to. "you were always annoying, but i thought you're better than that. he had no idea how to treat you right and you kept comin' back to him, what was insane to me. he was just a dick—"

"you wouldn't understand..."

"no, i definitely fuckin' wouldn't," he retors annoyed. "so m'not even gonna try, but he was pissin' me the fuck off. i was waitin' for the day you finally leave him for good."

"it wasn't that simple," you try to explain, but chris wasn't having any of that. "kid, don' bullshit me. you even try to defend him now when he's gone? don't tell me you..."

"no, i try to defend myself, 'cause you don't get it," you interrupt, not wanting to hear whatever he was going to say. "he was awful, but at that time i kinda just... craved affection, i guess," your cheeks heat with embarrassment. "and sometimes he was giving me that."

"what affection he could give ya? bet, he fuckin' sucked. and you deserve to get affection and all this other shit all the time, not just sometimes. that's fucked up."

"and what do you know about all of that?" you question him, which annoys the hell out of chris. "every week you have a new girl to fuck, then moving on to the next one."

he knows you're right, chris had no clue how to show affection either, he never was good at this because he simply never let himself attach to anyone. but he knew, if he had you, he would never be like your ex. chris would try his best to make sure you know you're loved.

"there's nothing wrong with that, they all know m'not lookin' for a relationship. i always tell 'em at the beginnin' that it's only a hook up. i don' play anyone..."

"always?" when chris nods, you add, "i didn't hear you saying that to me."

now he's surprised, quickly hiding it, but the way his eyes scanned your face was telling you everything you needed to know.

"well..." he slowly licks his lips, carefully thinking of his next words. "i never... i mean, i knew we'd do it again at some point... but i just— fuck, i don' know..."

your voice is dripping with sarcasm when you say the next sentence, but there was genuine curiosity behind it, "maybe deep down you expected something?"

his expression is unreadable, but chris's heart was beating so hard, he was afraid you'd hear. the question you asked stirred weird feelings inside him and he had to get out of this situation fast. you knew one of his deepest secrets already, there was no way he'd let you know his other ones.

"be serious, kid," his smirk doesn't reach his eyes. "enough with that talk. i gotta go..."

his reaction saying more than he would ever say. you watch as he stands up, "i am serious and you're running away right now—"

"shut your goddamn mouth for once, holy fuck," he snaps at you, gripping the bridge of his nose. "i have shit to do so i'm leavin', simple as that. not that is any of your business anyway."

your blood boil at his words but you don't say anything else. you were afraid your voice would betray you, so watching him gathering his stuff from your room and then hearing the front door shutting, was all you did.

taglist: @certifiedstarrr @chrislovespepsi @le4hsblog @sturnsxbitvh @sweetlikesug4rvenom @xaristhings @mattsfavbitchhh @lvrsturniolo @r0s3luvr @slut4brunettes @madisonsturnioloss @chrispillowprincess @sturnioloslutttt4 @ashlishes @mattsbitchh @hi-people-who-are-alive @stellward123 @inssanely @matts-girlfriend @imnotalive420 @emely9274 @shadowthesim @yunkilm @sophiaxsblog @namelesssav @demyackerman @fratbrochrisgf @lvrsturniolo @chrisweetheart @chrisfavoritewhore @sturnslutz @ncm9696 @certified-sturniolo @mattsobvimyfav @swagalicious260 @giannalovessturniolo @sophand4n4 @brazyturtleneck

[dcggersedge]

"Don't." Where the same objection had come out sharp and jagged with Alcryst, this time it tumbles into the space between them, exhausted and flat and forced out by a voice that just wants to rest. He meets her eyes again. She breaks first, grimacing as she turns away with a shake of her head. She sits up properly next to him again. "Don't apologize to me for something out of your control. You're only barely older than I am. You couldn't have done anything when it mattered."

The people who failed her aren't even dead. They just don't care. She doesn't want him presenting his heart in the place of the people who would call him weak for it.

"Besides, can you imagine it? The dashing prince rides in to save the day and change my life, like some kind of stupid fairy tale?" Yunaka laughs, even as bitterness pulls at the corners of her lips. "I would've been pissed, probably. I hated you and your family then."

Never him or Alcryst directly, but the idea of them. Of the royal family, living strong and proud while people like her had to fight through mud with mine dust in their lungs to survive. If the royal family was so good, she wondered late into the nights in her cold bed, then why was there no one to help her.

If the divine dragon was so loving, why was she alone?

It's different, but similar. The blood on his hands doesn't matter when there's fancy gloves to keep them clean, but they both know their stains are still there, no matter how much they scrub or how many years past.

Each life was a star now, sent too soon back to the night sky above. A life cut down, unable to see what the next day would bring. She could cover ever inch of herself in all the stars in the world, but it wouldn't be the same, no matter how many different sights and experiences she tried to take them to.

"I understand if you want to see me punished." Above them, the maple leaves still on the branches sway in the breeze. Their shadows below dance, and through the gaps little beams of light sparkle like fallen stars. "Whatever agreement I made with Alcryst doesn't mean shit if the king decides otherwise, after all."

She smiles softly. "I...I know I avoided you for a while back in the army...y'know, cause I was scared you'd find out and drag me back to Brodia when I just left...man, the way you used to always show up at the cafe when I was eating would give me heart attacks!"

She bumps him lightly, playfully with her elbow. For a second, she doesn't feel like the worst person alive. Just for a second. "But...I always liked the way you talked about what Brodia could be. About how it could be better, about how you wanted to help people, about how you cared. I thought it was nice, even if it couldn't include someone like me."

She meets his eyes again. The smile she gives him this time is real. Small and tired, but real. "...I hope you make a Brodia where people like me don't happen ever again."

do you see what I see

return to brodia

[shorlinesorrows]

qpr jean and neil. that's all i'm gonna say.

do you see my vision?

[livvyofthelake]

13 days until chain of thorns. it’s going to fix me i’m telling you. seeing cordelia is going to be so healing you don’t even understand

[actual-corpse]

Lol... I WISH my parents could afford to tell me not to get a job and just focus on my studies.

[domesticated-whores]

choked so hard swallowing my drink down the wrong way that I almost puked and I'm still kinda nauseous hours later, so lol. also, friend (the mutual work friend of me and my man that actually hangs out with him outside of work) witnessed and started saying something about how some people choke on things like that bad enough that it kinda spooks them from drinking and they get dehydrated out of paranoia (no idea if that's true, sounds fake but whatever, he's one of those people yk?) and my dumb ass, full of autism and pure thoughts only, said "damn, if that were a problem I wouldn't be able to put nothing in my mouth, my gag reflex is shit 😞😞" which has probably made it's way to my man. because I'm stupid and was really woozy from coughing til I almost vomited and totally didn't think of what I was saying.

[1roentgen]

weewoo 👽

[loverboybrightsideghost]

they should invent a way to ask if you have felt suicidal or have had suicidal thoughts at the doctor when they ask where you'll answer truthfully. i am fine and i always fight the suicidal thoughts but i went to the urgent care the other day and they asked and i said no no nothing like that. but i lied! of course i have! i've been vaguely fantasizing about getting hit by a car the past few days!!! i truly hate suicide for Reasons, it makes me incredibly sad and distressed, and for myself sometimes i don't even realize it's started creeping into my head again (i'm fine i genuinely promise) but like. as much as i hate it, it's there in some of my friends and me and i have to wonder about the fact that "yeah, but doesn't everyone at least a little bit?" isn't the right answer.

[insanechayne]

~ ~ ~

[maraschinotopped]

^ that is a trout. i think.

[inmaki]

gojo showing off your back scratches to geto

( cont from this fic! req, visual ) .

contains: sex talk, desc of back scratches, crack, sugu is called daddy once (as a joke.. right..)

everything was relatively peaceful in suguru's apartment. key word: relatively.

a forgettable yet appreciated sunday afternoon, not a cloud in sight despite the weather forecast predicting downpours of rain. either way, the raven-haired man insouciantly rested across his white couch, reaching the conclusion that today would be a day for self-care, relaxing, and perhaps some meditation.

there was only one thing ruining his peace.

all morning, suguru has been forced to try and ignore the stain a certain someone has left on his couch — a pair of unecessarily expensive yet dirty shoes being the culprit.

despite these attempts, every once in a while his gaze can't help but wander over at the mark — as if it'd poof out of existence if he glared hard enough.

"fuckin' asshole.." he mutters. it was a wonder his relationship with his best friend managed to stay so promising despite all their differences, yet suguru wouldn't have it any other way, even after situations like this.

right when he grumpily turns back to the tv — which was playing some crappy, low budget rom-com — his apartment door is yanked open and suguru swears he nearly jumps out of his seat.

great, was this it? was he about to get robbed, perhaps evicted? and then probably die? forced into the afterlife knowing gojo's shoe-shit was still on his new couch? no that can't—

"i fucked her!"

suguru whips his head towards the apartment door, announcement being disregarded as he nearly groans in agony. speak of the devil.

big blue eyes peak out from under circular sunglasses, one hand already raised in preparation for a dap up while his stupid, big, dirty shoe pushes the door closed behind him. gojo wears a black compression shirt with grey sweats, marching over to his friend with a ginormous grin across his cheeks.

"take your shoes off, now," suguru snaps, nodding to his friend's feet with a frown.

"yeesh... whatever y'say, daddy," the bastard never loses his smile as his hands raise in surrender, kicking them off by the door smoothly. "what's got your panties in a twist?"

geto pinches his nose bridge. "don't call me that," as he continues the scolding, he points to the living room with his free hand. "you got a mystery stain on my couch, satoru. do you know how many youtube videos i watched trying to get this shit off?"

unphased, gojo takes a look at the strangely colored blob against the armrest's leather material and shrugs. "my bad. did you try febreeze?"

"what— no? dude, febreeze is for.." when suguru looks back up to sourly meet his gaze, he could immediately tell the white-haired man was already drifting back into la-la-land, words going in one ear and out the other. "..nevermind. why're you here?"

at the reminder, satoru seemingly brightens, head shooting back up as if he was just told he'd won the lottery.

"oh god, don't make that stupid face—" he pauses. "the fuck are you doing?" suguru might as well say goodbye to his self-care day, because now gojo was stripping in the middle of his living room, shirt thrown haphazardly onto the still-very-much-stained couch.

"just look!" suguru squints as his friend swivels around to face the wall, pushing his bangs away to get a better view of the— oh shit.

it takes the raven-haired man a second to process what he's seeing before shuffling forward, closely examining the achingly red, bulging scratch marks displayed sexily across the latter's back and shoulders. "no way.."

suguru knows the strongest sorcerer well enough to notice how he purposely didn't use reversed cursed technique on these scratches, just so it'd be obvious to anyone that caught a glimpse of what exactly occured. to his further dismay, he can already picture a smug and sweaty gojo walking around their local gym like this, proud simper on his pretty lips as he easily raises a pair of weights in his veiny hands.

a hiss escapes geto's mouth as he runs his finger down a particularly agitated one, knowing exactly how painful they could be after experiencing many hook-ups of his own. even so, satoru only licks his lips, neck craning to the side so he can pride himself in his friend's gobsmacked expression.

"damn, these are deep. you actually hit it?" suguru confirms, raising a celebratory hand.

turning back around, satoru daps him up, a massive smirk now on both their faces. "hell yeah, it was amazing."

it was impossible to predict what gojo would do next after barging through his front door — especially considering how many times he's done so — but this has to be the last thing suguru ever expected.

not that he was complaining — in fact, all of geto's temper and need for relaxation seemingly flew out the window, the feeling of proudness for his best friend overthrowing anything else.

and even if he hated to admit it, the way gojo was so eager to come over and announce his virginity loss to him was more than a little endearing, and dare he say cute.

"that's great, man. congrats." suguru leads him into the kitchen — still shamelessly shirtless — to grab them both a can of beer in celebration. while the white-haired man usually didn't get involved with any form of alcohol, this occasion was most definitely exception-worthy. "you made y/n cum too, right?"

an offended glare is shot his way. "duh, two times."

"huh. surprised you could last."

as suguru pours their drinks into two fragile cups, gojo exhales, not bothered in the slightest by his jab. "dude, same.." he admits dreamily. "she was so fuckin' tight and warm.. and oh— fuck, her moans? heavenly.. 'can't believe i didn't bust after the first minute.."

geto gulps, trying his best to ignore the mental image his brain was producing from his dirty words. you can't blame him — both of you were smoking hot, and he was a simple man.

even now, he could already imagine what you both looked like; panting and moaning, skin-slapping so loud that it echoed through the whole room, how blissed out you'd look as gojo's cock split you in t—

satoru's playful sigh cuts through the tensing air. "who knows sugs, maybe you'll have another kind of stain to worry about next time we're over~"

he's never snapped out of a daydream so quickly. "don't even joke about that."

over the next hour, the two men sat manspread on the stained couch, taking leisure sips while recalling satoru's final moments as a virgin — suguru giving out his secret tips and tricks along the way.

maybe sometime, suguru could offer some.. hands-on learning instead.

mlist! <- sugu.. how could u think abt ur bestie and his gf like that... tsk tsk tsk (if u enjoyed reblogs/comments r appreciated heheh)

© inmaki on tumblr. all rights reserved. do not cross-post, translate, copy in any way, etc.

[kekewrites]

Tw. Bimbo reader, dark content, noncon, dubcon, corruption kink, coercion, creampie, size kink, magic sex toy/onahole/fleshlight, loss of virginity, not proof read

***

Thinking about being a childhood friend of a yandere duo.

You were just so friendly and cute, approaching them with candies in your tiny hands and offering it to them. So kind as you always play with them, and sometimes they would argue who'd be your husband when playing house. They often fought whenever they wanted to play with you but in the end, it always results to sharing you.

Middle school was a little different than Kindergarten. They get more protective when boys try to get close to you, painting them as insufferable brats that only want clout. Being neighbors with the wealthy kids, got you too much attention much to their liking, often getting bullied whenever you finally have some alone time, but this didn't get unnoticed as you wonder why that kid who pushed you on your locker, suddenly have bandage wrapped around his head and his reputation down.

Highschool is where the shift started. You wanted to explore more, finding new friends, and hanging out with other people, and they did not like that. You were just too dumb, they said. Too dumb to realize people manipulating you so that they can get close to them. Do you even realize that the girl from your class only talks to you about them? Dumb girl.

Safe to say, you never had a genuine friend in high school, not like you even had chance to form a deep level of friendship (by people who genuinely wanna be friends with you) by the way they hog all your attention and time.

College is where it gets difficult for them to spend time with you. Different schedules, classes, course. They even insisted you go to the same university as them. It's frustrating how little time you spend together, always with your stupid excuse of "working on an assignment".

Without you around, they definitely have a hard time relieving some tension. They couldn't just walt into your room and steal some panties scoot free without getting into trouble, even though they were star students and had plenty influence over the school. No, no, they won't put their reputation to ruin, they're your perfect best friends.

Despite them being a duo, they were quite different in terms of personality. One is patient and mature, thinking logical and more on the rational side. While the other is playful, outgoing and rash. Both have their charms that got everyone around their fingers. However, they wouldn't sleep with just anyone, no. It's hard to get their dick hard, always imagining your cute face whenever they try to fuck a desperate bitch to finally release some tension.

But your impatient friend had enough of some random girl, high pitch moans that's not yours annoying his ears. It's miserable to even hump his own hand, so hard and cold, different to what he imagine your tight warm cunt to be. This just won't cut it. He needs more, to finally feel your wet insides without you knowing.

So what's a good way to relieve tension?

Some good ol' fleshlight.

The moment it arrived at his doorstep, he straight up bolted to his door. Slamming the door close as he finally gets his hands on the toy after days of waiting. Fuck, he can't wait to use this thing.

It's like the half body sex toy he used to watch in porns. He was quite impressed by the details it had, he gotta give props for that, but that's not what he's after for. After reading the instructions, more like skimming and skipping most of the words. He use lubricant, using plenty of it and spreading it around the artificial pussy lips. Rubbing and feeling the flaps, like how he usually does. It's kinda weird that he's doing this for a toy, but he could just imagine it being your cunt, practicing his moves. After a few moments did he slide his thick finger inside the walls of the toy... How weird, the texture was oddly real, like it was alive. Well, that's probably some mechanic shit that the factory put there or something. This is his first time using a fleshlight and it cost a fortune through some sketchy website so it better be worth it.

***

You jolted in your sit in class, listening to your professor's discussion about physics until you suddenly feel something brushing on your thighs. Your head panning around the room before looking ahead, brushing it off. It was probably the wind.

You yelp when something began rubbing your cunt, earning a few concern looks for you and your professor glancing at you before going back to his discussion. You shrink in your sit, head hanging low as you pressed your lips together. Confused and scared by the phantom touch assaulting your nether region. Clutching your skirt, you try to maintain confused whimpers as the touches didn't stop.

You're scared.

The moment something pushed inside you, you stand up and excuse yourself, running to the nearest restroom. Your feet quick as you open a random stall and sit on the toilet. Your breathing heavy as you shakily lifts your skirt, looking at the wet patch on your panty.

What's happening? Why are you wet? How can something touching you there? You're not imagining this, right?

Your mind raced as you become more terrified. Is a ghost haunting you? Tears pool on your eyes, sniffling as the assault become more aggressive.

***

Fuck, this fleshlight was the best thing he ever bought. How was this even made? Whatever. He continues to pump his thick finger, inserting another one and he jump a bit as he felt the walls suck on his fingers. Damn, it can even do that? Just how realistic can this toy be? He's not complaining though.

He decided to touch the clit earning another tight squeeze. What a sensitive toy. He continues to play, eventually adding another finger. It was weird how the warm walls didn't run out of lube, if this were any normal toy it'd need to be lubricated after few minutes but this toy seems to produce it on its on.

He pulls out his fingers as he inspects the inside, it's undeniable that it's fake but the way it pulsates around nothing makes it a bit questionable on how it works.

Would your cunt also look like that? He could imagine your wrecked heaving face after fingering you. Poor little you never had something inside, let alone this thick fingers. He couldn't wait for the moment he'll ruin you.

***

You're straight up crying as an additional thick sensation pumped your insides. Squeezing your thighs shut, like it's gonna do something to stop the phantom. Everything inside you screams to remove the intrusion but you didn't know how. Opening your legs slightly, your shaky fingers removing your panty to see what's happening inside your cunt... but nothing was there. Only a gape.

Your fingers shifts towards the gape, gasping as the invincible touch was able to touch you yet you couldn't even see or feel it. Squirming uncomfortably, as you open your legs more to try and get "it" out with your fingers. Uselessly grabbing air, whimpering and sobbing as you fail to interrupt with its continuous pumping. Your stomach twisting and an unfamiliar coil was starting to unravel, your breath hitching and legs shaking.

But it's abruptly stop as the phantom pulled away.

Finally, relief and a little bit of disappointment fills your chest. Slumping on the toilet, panting like you run a marathon. You shift a bit as you sit upright, freezing as something thick pokes your entrance.

No way...

Your brain panics, your gaze staring at the way your hole widens and your legs subconsciously spreading more to prepare yourself for the inevitable. You clutch the wall of the stall, each hand gripping the surface. Tears streaming down your face and your cheeks getting hot.

This can't be happening.

You felt the thick thing stretch you open.

***

Something about fucking a fleshlight should embarrass him. But nah, with you in his mind there's nothing to be ashamed. This is just practice to him after all, he'll do this things eventually.

With his heavy cock around his fingers, he taps the opening of the fleshlight. His other hand grips the hip. Rubbing along the slit, he collects lube running on the head of his cock, catching the clit in the process. He lets out a breath, as he finally starts pushing his cock inside.

He's quite big, so he's a bit worried if he'll fit in some shady toy but he's sure he'll fit in you just right, even if he had to force himself in your tiny cunt.

But there's no need for consideration when it comes to a toy.

He sheath inside in one thrust.

Hissing at the way the walls clings to him, tightly wrapping around his cock and pulsating as if rejecting a foreign object. Shit, why does it feel like a virgin?

Warm, wet, and tight. The perfect toy pussy for him, this could even rival a real pussy if he were being honest. No time for adjusting as he starts to thrust. Pounding the onahole, roughly gripping the hips and fucking hard. Shit shit shit why does this feel so good? This stupid toy feels a whole lot better compare to a random slut.

His hips going hard and the way he feels the inside pulsating, sucking all his worth making him groan. Such a tight fake cunt.

He wonder if he can break the toy.

***

With a silent scream, your head jerk up as the big stretch was too sudden for your body to take. Legs wide open as you try to create space for the large object. You sob as quiet as possible, as the phantom starts pounding hard at your sensitive cunt. You want to scream but held back, tears blurring your vision as you pray for it to end.

Whimpering and sobbing was the only thing you can do. Waiting for the thrusting to stop, you teeth bite your lip to stop noise from escaping. It doesn't sound like you at all, it's weird, you're scared and confused.

Your mind tries to think of a distraction, to think of anything but the mysterious assault. How is this even happening? What did you do to deserve this? Why you?

Your breath hitched as you feel the tight coil in your stomach again. Moaning a little as you feel pleasure rising though you. Your hands clasp over your mouth, muffling your noise. You shake your head as the coil gets tighter and tighter, your legs shaking as you stutter words of apology to whoever's doing this.

And it snaps.

Your vision going white, body stiffening and eyes going into the back of your head.

Ah. You never felt this... good before.

It takes you a few minutes to recover. Your limbs feel like jelly, your chest rising up and down in a slow manner, and you greedily gulp air.

You were tired and exhausted but you were glad the assault has stop after that. You groggily starts to lift you panty's up however you felt something dripping down your hole.

... you wonder what it was.

***

After that day, the mysterious phantom would touch you at random times, when you're showering, classes, or even in bed late at night. It was torturous, you were becoming paranoid and it didn't go unnoticed by one of your best friend.

He's helping you study in the library as you'd ask him for his guidance in physics. You would've asked your other friend, but you can just imagine him play with your hair or something along of not really helping you study.

You're breathe hitch as you feel the phantom ghost rubbing your cunt. Shrinking on your sit, uncomfortably rubbing your legs.

"Something bothering you?" He ask, looking a bit concern of your shiftiness.

"O-oh, it's nothing. Just a little tired lately," You reassured, smiling as you pretend to be fine.

His sharp gaze examined your face before dropping the subject, deciding to just help you study.

"If you need something to talk to. I'm right here, ok?"

You smiled forcefully, "I-I will... Thank you."

***

You could never bring yourself to tell someone about it. No one would ever believe you.

You're laying in bed waiting for the phantom, already memorizing the way it'll touch you. You brace for the touch as you can't help but feel helpless. Are you going to live like this your entire life? You don't want to...

But would someone be willing to listen to you? To believe you? You don't wanna bother your best friend, you knew how busy he's gotten the recent days and you're doubtful that he'll even listen to your story when he's the rational one. That means...

Your thoughts were interrupted by the intrusion as you clutch your pillow and close your eyes. You're panting as the phantom starts its routine.

You're scared... You're scared that it's starting to feel good.

No. You don't want to be alone anymore on this.

You need help. Badly.

You shakily gets up from bed, putting some jacket on as you heads towards someone who can help you... At least you believe who will do.

***

"Oh? What's my little darling doing here at this late of night?" He grins as he opened the door with the sight of you.

You fidget with your jacket as you feel small under his gaze, "P-Please help me."

He raised his eyebrow, his grin replacing with a thin line. Yeah, he's playful but he'll never joke around when you're having a problem, "Come inside, we'll talk there, sweetie."

Sitting on his couch, you took a deep breath as you prepare to tell someone about this problem of yours. He won't make fun of you right? He won't be weirded out, right? He's a reliable person and your best friend.

He sits beside you, a serious and concerned expression on his face. It was rare to see him like this, which encourage you to finally tell him.

By the end, you were crying and hiccuping in your hands about the experiences you encounter with that phantom. Feeling his hand rub your back, cooing at you in comfort. He pulls your head to rest on his chest, telling you that everything's going to be fine.

You sob out a thank you, finding relief to finally get it out of your chest.

Unbeknownst to you, the man was smiling.

***

He didn't know if God was on his side. But, he didn't expect this would happen.

Who would've thought that the toy he was playing with was connected with cute lil you?

He didn't believe it at first but the way you described the timing was too much of a coincidence. Sweet little thing, don't worry you won't experience any scary thing from now on.

"Sweetie, do you want me to chase that scary invisible phantom away?" He cups your cheeks in his hands, locking gaze with you.

You sniffle before nodding, "Y-Yes, please..."

He gave you a toothy smile before gently pushing you down on his couch. His fingers swiping away your tears, "Listen to me, ok? I need you to trust me on this." His nose touching with yours as he leans close.

"O-ok... I trust you."

Dumb little girl.

You shouldn't have said that.

Now you've sealed your fate.

***

He wonders what was going on with you back when he helped you study in the library. Something was very off about you, and you were clearly uncomfortable to brought it up.

He thinks of you very often even when he's busy and swarmed with school works. Sometimes, getting frustrated to even continue and wants to just go to your place. He massages his aching temple, resting on his chair before a box caught his attention.

Oh yeah, that stupid guy gave him that a few weeks ago.

He recalls their conversation about it, saying that it'll help him release some stress. Well, he's plenty stressed now so why don't he test it out now?

He saunters to the box, sitting on the floor to unravel it. Only to be surprised by the object inside it.

An onahole...

If he was his usual self he would've flung this across the room and throw it to the garbage bin. But sometimes he needs to be relieve as well, plus he's a man too,

He's not that picky too.

This'll do for him.

A temporary replacement while thinking of your cunt.

[fireinmoonshot]

death wish love | tyler owens x fem!reader

Pairing: Tyler Owens x Fem!Reader Summary: As members of rival storm chasing groups, you and Tyler Owens have hated each other since the start – well, you were supposed to. Little do you know, Tyler has been head over heels for you for months, and it's only when he nearly loses you that he realises he's done with pretending to hate you. Warnings: Descriptions of injuries, mentions of blood, tornadoes (of course), Tyler is actually painfully obvious with his crush but thinks he's not at all. Word Count: 6.7k (I don't know how that happened) A/N: I had this idea for a fic a few days ago and when I was listening to the Twisters soundtrack as I wrote, I realised that the song Death Wish Love fits it perfectly. I did not intend for this to be so long, but it somehow just happened. It's probably one of the longest things I've written on this blog, so I hope anyone that reads it really enjoys it. I had so much fun writing it and playing around in the Twisters universe! I will definitely be writing more for Tyler.

One of these days, Tyler Owens was going to get his shit together and ask you out. There were, however, several things in the way. The most pressing being the fact that your storm chasing groups were rivals and had been for years.

The fact that you hated his guts would be the second. 

He was unaware that you didn’t hate him quite as much as you made out to, though. It was just that you had a reputation to uphold. Being the unofficial leader of The Thunder Team, your friends and fellow storm chasers all expected you to dislike the Tornado Wranglers just as much as they did.

And you had – in the start. 

You were just beginning your PhD, fairly fresh in the world of storm chasing and the rivalry between your teams had been there from the very beginning. To your team, the Tornado Wranglers were nothing more than a bunch of stupid kids who didn’t even have the correct knowledge to be chasing these tornadoes.

To you, they had slowly become something of a wonder. You didn’t think it was necessary to have a PhD or education under your belt in order to storm chase. As long as you loved it, that was enough. And you never doubted the love that the Tornado Wranglers had for it. 

But still, the rivalry continued. It was always a competition. Who could get to the tornado first? Who could get closer? Who had better instincts when it came to choosing which one to chase? Who could get more attention on social media with their photos and videos?

The Tornado Wranglers had an advantage on that one.

That never stopped your team trying, though. Which is exactly what they’re doing as you walk towards them from where you’ve just parked your car. They’re all crowded around the van in the motel parking lot. Robbie, one of your closest friends, is filming Ally talking about something, probably regarding the EF1 tornado you’d chased today. 

You stop far enough away that you aren’t going to end up in the background of the video, and that’s when Tyler Owens sidles up beside you, arms crossed over his chest.

“Not interested in going viral?”

You glance up at him and notice he’s already looking at you with a cocky grin on his irritatingly handsome face. “No, figured I’d leave that to you and your team. Shoot any fireworks up a tornado today? I didn’t see you out there.”

“I didn’t realise you were looking.” 

There’s something strange in his tone of voice, but when you look at him again, there’s nothing in his face to give away the reason. 

“I wasn’t,” you huff. “It’s just that I see your giant red truck everywhere when I’m trying to get good photos of the tornadoes and it’s quite obvious when you’re not there.” 

Tyler smiles to himself. “Why don’t you come chasing with us one day, then? My truck won’t end up in your photos if you’re taking photos from inside it.”

You laugh. “That is the last thing I would want to do.” A lie. You’ve thought about it several times in the past.

“Sure, sure. You keep telling yourself that and one day you might actually believe it.”

You narrow your eyes at him but make no move to walk away from him. Your team are still filming and you’d rather stay away until they’re finished, even if it means standing with Tyler Owens until they are. 

“You guys gonna stop by the rodeo tomorrow night?” Tyler breaks the silence. 

You shrug your shoulders. “Depends on how tomorrow goes. You?”

He nods. “Yeah, we probably will, even if tomorrow doesn’t go to plan. You know my team. We love a night out.”

The weather tomorrow was predicted to be a good one for storm chasers – thunderstorms with heavy rain and likely a tornado as well, if the conditions were good enough. You were all hoping that they were. 

“My guys are less likely to go if they know your team is going, you know?” You look at Tyler, noticing the way that he’s watching your team, who are now laughing at something that Ally had said for the video. “We are still rivals.” 

“Did you think I needed a reminder?” He chuckles.

“Why? Am I being too nice to you?”

Tyler grins, one of those ones that makes you feel a little funny in your stomach. Like butterflies – but you don’t get butterflies from people you dislike. 

“Oh, darlin', you’re always a delight.”

You roll your eyes. “Want me to get you a shovel so you can start digging yourself a hole?” 

He holds up his hands in mock surrender and laughs. “Sorry, sorry,” he grins. “You wanna grab one for yourself so you can help me? I’d love the company.”

You open your mouth to reply about how much you’d love to help just as you catch Robbie’s eye. He’s quick to call out your name, beckoning you over, and you have no choice but to listen to him and leave Tyler. You’ve already stood here talking to him long enough and the last thing you want is your team thinking that you’re colluding with the Tornado Wranglers. 

“Gotta go,” you nod your head towards your group. “Good luck tomorrow.”

Tyler bids you good luck as well and watches as you head over towards your group, all of them eyeing him as you reach them. He tips his hat at Robbie, who is watching him with judging eyes, and turns on his heel, heading back to his own team to get a well needed beer.

—

When Tyler gets back to his team, he realises that they were all watching him. They all give him questioning looks as he grabs a beer out of the cooler. 

“What? I got something on my face?”

“Yeah, it sure is written all over your face,” Boone says.

Tyler frowns. “What is?”

“Oh, don’t try and lie to us, Ty,” Dani adds.

He shakes his head and takes a seat on one of the fold up chairs beside his truck. He’s smart enough to see what they’re getting at – the way he’d been there talking with you for so long. His friends are smart too. But hopefully not smart enough to see through the facade Tyler puts up to try and convince them that he still dislikes you. 

“Her, Ty? Really? She’s from the Thunder Team.” Boone stares Tyler down.

Tyler has no choice. “Okay, no,” he sighs and takes a long swig of his beer. “We were just talking, and I was just messing around with her.” He was also trying to get the courage to ask you to the rodeo, just the two of you, but he’d chickened out at the last second. “She definitely still hates us, judging by her reaction.”

Truth is, Tyler Owens has been harbouring a secret crush on you for the better part of a year now. It had snuck up on him. He’d hated you at first, thought you were just another stuck up storm chasing student, especially when he found out you were studying for your PhD. But after spending so much time around you, something had changed and all of a sudden, you had a hold over him that you didn’t even realise you had. 

It drives Tyler insane. 

The way he feels when he looks at you is definitely not the way he should be feeling about anyone, letalone the leader of a rival storm chasing team. But here he is. 

The passion he’d seen in your eyes when you’d been chasing storms. The way you talked about them in your captions on social media when you posted photos you’d taken. Even the way you made time to learn more about them through school while being on the road so often.

He was well aware that he was supposed to hate you. And yet, he couldn’t find it in himself to do it anymore.

“You sure that’s all it was?” 

“A hundred percent, Boone.”

He’s thankful when the conversation moves away from you and the Thunder Team. It lets him sit in his own thoughts for a few minutes until he’ll undoubtedly be brought back into the conversation for one reason or another. 

He’s unable to stop his eyes from drifting over to you and your team. You’ve taken a seat on the back of a truck, watching safely from behind the camera as Robbie films Ally again. He tries hard not to smile at the look on your face as you watch your friends, laughing along with the others. The last thing he needs right now is for one of his team to catch him grinning at you like an idiot, especially after convincing them that there’s nothing going on.  

He realises, then, that he’s already in way too deep.

—

The last thing you expect when you wake up the next morning is to find out that your team made a bet with the Tornado Wranglers when you had gone to bed. 

It’d been raining for most of the night, the ground covered in mud and puddles. The sky was dark and you could just feel that the conditions were perfect for a tornado. You had a good feeling that today would be the day.

Until you learnt about the bet.

“I knew I shouldn’t have left you guys alone.”

Robbie laughs, nearly choking on the piece of bacon he’d been eating. You’ve all come to a nearby diner to fuel up on both food and gas for your cars before what was supposed to be a long day of storm chasing. You have a feeling that it won’t be now that the bet exists.

“Okay, technically it was their fault,” Ally offers.

“Explain.”

“So, we’d had a few drinks, and they had clearly also been drinking, and Harry and I were heading over to the bathrooms to clean up before going to bed – because dental hygiene is important!” Ally begins, forgetting all about her half eaten plate of food. “We were almost there when they called out to us – I forget their names. The blond guy and the one with the mustache, the cute one. Anyway, they suggested a bet. Whoever could hold their liquor the best gets to choose which direction the other team chases in today.”

You stare at Ally. “And you said yes.”

She winces, and then shovels a fork full of eggs into her mouth, nodding so she doesn’t have to give you a proper answer. 

Your team is usually quite well behaved. But even the best of people could get taken advantage of, and you’ve seen it many times first hand with the Tornado Wranglers.  They can hold their liquor very well and wake up the next day with very little consequences from doing so. You’re honestly surprised Ally is even functioning. Harry, on the other hand, you haven’t seen all morning. Unsurprisingly, your team had obviously lost.

“Which direction are we going, then?”

“That’s the catch,” Robbie interjects. “They choose for us before we go. They get to look at the radar first and decide which way is going to be best. And naturally, they’re going to send us in the direction far away from the best chance.” 

You groan and let your head fall into your hands, beginning to ponder your options. You can either deal with the bet and get sent in the entirely wrong direction, or…

Without a second thought, you’re pushing yourself up from the table and heading towards the door of the diner.

“Where are you going!?” Robbie calls after you.

“I’m going to fix this mess!” 

—

Tyler greets you with a smile that is way too cheerful for both the time of the morning that it is and the situation.

“To what do I owe the pleasure on this fine morning, darlin'?” He asks, leaning up against his truck. He’s holding a coffee in one hand. Good to know he’s human. You’re not surprised that he doesn’t look hungover at all. The man practically resembles a God. 

“Wouldn’t call it a pleasure, honey,” you sigh, deciding to use a nickname just like he always uses for you. You cross your arms over your chest as you stop in front of him. “This bet you made with my team last night. I want it called off.”

Tyler’s breath catches in his throat at the sound of the word honey coming out of your mouth, directed at him. He clears his throat, trying to ignore the way it feels to hear you calling him that. “No can do, I’m afraid. We Tornado Wranglers don’t back down on bets.” 

You narrow your eyes at him. “I’m asking nicely.”

“I think you can ask a little nicer. Maybe throw a please in there,” he says. “You know it wouldn’t look good for your team, though, right? Half the other teams know about the bet.”

For a few moments, you simply just stare at him, hoping he’ll budge. He doesn’t. He stands there staring at you, too, leaning against his truck in an effortlessly attractive way, smiling at you in that same way he always does. It’s like he reserves this specific smile just for you. 

You take a step towards him, testing the waters, and notice the way his breath hitches this time at your close proximity. Did he dislike you that much that you getting this close to him set him on edge? Or was it something else?

“Nothing can change your mind?”

Tyler shakes his head. “I already told you. We don’t back down on our bets.”

“Tyler.” It’s a rare occasion where you call him by his first name, but you figure it can’t hurt to try it. You can see his eyes soften a little at the sound of it. “If you do this, you’re going to send us right off the trail and ruin our chase.”

“Who said I’d send you in the wrong direction?” 

“I’m smarter than you give me credit for.”

“I don’t know, darlin'. I give you a fair bit of credit for being a genius,” he took a sip of his coffee. “You’re the one with the PhD. I didn’t study that much.”

Something about hearing those words sets off that feeling inside your stomach again. You push it down. “I don’t have my PhD yet.”

“No,” Tyler shakes his head. “But you’re close, aren’t you? That’s more than most people around here can say regarding their education on these things.” He points a finger towards the sky, which is rapidly darkening. 

You sigh. He’s right about that. You are close to finishing your PhD, and not many of the other storm chasers around you could say the same. 

“Just tell me which direction we’re going in, Owens.”

He looks at you for a moment. “I’ll give you a choice,” he says, and for a moment hope sparks in your chest that you’ll get to choose your direction – until he continues speaking. “I’ll let this bet go if you make another one with me.”

“What sort of bet?” You cross your arms over your chest.

“Not regarding our teams. Just you and me.”

You’re about to respond when you hear the sound of the van, playing music rather loudly – Harry’s choice – pulling into the motel parking lot behind you. You sigh and turn around to look at them, irritated that this is the second time in less than 24 hours that they’ve interrupted you and Tyler. 

“No luck?” Ally calls out from the passenger seat. 

Behind them, Robbie pulls up in his truck. 

You shake your head and turn back around to face Tyler. There’s no time to make another bet with him now that your team is here and they’re all ready to go. 

“East or west, Owens?”

Tyler turns around and looks at the sky around you. You figure he’s already done his research on the conditions in every direction and that he’s just messing with you, pretending to decide on the spot. Any good storm chaser would have been watching the radars all morning – which you had been, before you found out about the bet. 

“East.” He says, turning back around to face you. “There are two possible formations, so let’s see which one develops. Or, you can ditch your team and come join us for the day. My passenger seat practically has your name on it, darlin’.” 

A small part of you finds yourself wanting to say yes to him. To tell him that you’d love nothing more than to get in his truck and see what a day with the Tornado Wranglers is like. But the reasonable part of you wins out. 

“You’re going to regret making this bet with my team, Owens,” you take a step back from him, giving him his space again. 

“I gave you the choice of another option, but you didn’t take it.”

You ignore him and turn around, heading towards the passenger side of Robbie’s truck – your usual spot when storm chasing. Tyler laughs at your reaction and then gets into his own truck before pressing his hand to the horn, making you jump at the sound, obviously using it to call his team from inside. You shoot him a look over your shoulder and in return, he sends a wink your way.

“May the best team win,” Tyler flashes a grin.

“Oh, we will!”

—

As much as Tyler hates to admit it, he had sent you in the wrong direction. There were two possible formations, that was true. But it looked very clear that the one to the east wasn’t actually going to develop into anything, and he was sure you would’ve figured that out once you got on the road and actually checked the conditions yourself.

He hates disappointing you. He saw the look on your face as you tried to convince him to call off the bet, the way you wanted to make sure today was a good one for your team. But it isn’t entirely out of competition that he sent you in the wrong direction.

Subconsciously, he did it to try and keep you safe.

If you’re out of the way of the tornado, then it’s a weight off of Tyler’s chest. He wouldn’t admit that to his team, but it felt good to think about himself. That you’d be safe. Besides, he had tried to get you out of it by making another bet with you, but he knew that you wouldn’t humour him the second he saw your team arrive. 

He presses his foot down on the accelerator, watching the clouds ahead of them. Something is going to form. He knows it. He just hopes it’s a good one, something worth chasing. 

In the passenger seat, Boone is keeping a good eye on the clouds to the east. He’s filming as well, live streaming as usual. 

“You were right, Ty,” Boone says, pointing the camera out the window towards the east. “That one’s gonna give us nothing. It’s already disappearing.”

Tyler lets out a breath of relief. You’re out of harms way and even though he knows you’d be annoyed at him if you ever found out, he can’t seem to find it in himself to feel bad about the fact. He had felt bad about the bet when you’d been talking to him, but now he realises that keeping the bet was a good idea.

“This one’s gonna be a good one, I can feel it,” he says, eyeing the clouds above them. 

Then, it happens – the tornado forms right in front of them. It’s already huge, bigger than any tornado Tyler has seen in the past few months.

Boone whoops in the seat beside him, moving the camera to film the tornado through the windshield. 

“Just look at that beauty!” He exclaims. 

Tyler can’t keep the smile off of his face as they drive closer to it. He stops the car once they get close enough, anchoring it to the ground as usual, watching as it gets closer and closer to the truck. 

“Oh, this is gonna be fun,” Tyler yells, straight to the camera that Boone is holding in his face. “Let’s do this!”

It’s only a split second later that his heart drops to his stomach. He watches as the tornado, once coming right towards them, veers off course. It’s heading east. And it’s growing in size. 

He looks out of the passenger window and in the distance, he can see your truck. It’s white, so bright under the dark sky. You’re going to be right in its path.

He sent you in the wrong direction to try and get you out of harms way, and instead he’s sent you in the exact direction the tornado is heading. There’s no way you can get out of its path in time. 

Tyler suddenly feels like he can barely breathe.

“Turn the camera off, Boone,” he commands, and then he’s removing the anchors from the ground and pressing his foot down onto the accelerator before he can even really think about it, even though there’s no way he can reach you in time with how quickly the tornado is moving towards you.

Boone, thankfully, listens, ending the stream, putting the camera down and picking up the radio to try and reach you. He’s realised what’s happening. Tyler tries to ignore the panic he feels when there’s no answer.

He can’t lose you like this. Not now. Not when he never really even had you. Not when you didn’t even know the way he felt about you. He’d been an asshole, a fool, making that bet. If he hadn’t, none of this would have happened.

“Please be okay, please be okay.” He mutters it under his breath like it’s a mantra. He doesn’t care what Boone thinks. If he says it enough, maybe he can make it come true.

—

You’ve seen tornadoes before. You’ve been close to them before. But you’ve never had one quite this size coming straight at you. You hadn’t expected this. 

When Tyler sent you east, Robbie had checked the radar and noticed that the cells out here were much less likely to form a tornado compared to the ones west. You’d gone anyway, figuring you’d try your chances, leaving Ally, Harry and the rest of your team a little further back, trying to get as close as you could before you realised your tornado was going to amount to nothing at all.

You and Robbie had been watching the tornado forming west of you, wishing you had been able to chase that one rather than do what the Tornado Wranglers told you. 

And then, it changed course.

“Get out of the car! We need to run!” Robbie undoes his seatbelt as he speaks and it doesn’t take you long to follow suit, undoing your own and jumping out of the truck.

He takes off at a run ahead of you just as the rain begins.

Your heart is beating faster in your chest than you think it ever has before. Your legs burn at the pace you’re running, your feet sinking into and skidding through the muddy paddock thanks to the heavy rain last night and the rain growing even heavier now. It slows you down, but your adrenaline pushes you faster. You can’t stop, not now. Not when there’s a possible EF4 on your tail, getting closer to you with every breath you take.

You make a mistake, then, deciding to look back at it. 

The sight of it only makes you run faster, but when you turn back, fear strikes through your system as you realise you can’t see Robbie anymore. 

The wind isn’t strong enough to have pulled him back into it, not when he was running ahead of you, but you can’t help but think of the worst possible scenario as your gaze narrows in on a gully just ahead of you. Maybe he made it there before you and now he’s just waiting.

The wind from the tornado picks up trees and branches and other debris, sending things spinning through the air. You feel something slice across your leg and cry out at the sudden pain, but there’s no time to inspect the damage as you slide down the small hill into the gully, the mud going everywhere as you hit the bottom. 

You don’t even have time to scan for Robbie as you press yourself down onto the ground of the gully, covering your head with your hands and pressing your face into the ground. You try to ignore the feeling of the mud and dirt on your skin, the throbbing pain in your leg, the rain pelting down on your back, soaking you to the bone, and try to keep breathing steadily despite being out of breath from the run and the adrenaline. 

You can’t panic now. If you panic now, you’re dead. 

The tornado gets closer and you can hear it. Hear the wind rushing through the air, hear the sound of trees being ripped out of the ground. Hear the crashing sound of the truck being picked up and thrown by it. 

Everything is okay,  you tell yourself, like a mantra. Everything is going to be okay. Because if you tell yourself enough, maybe it will come true.

—

By the time Tyler gets to the place where your truck had been, the tornado is gone and so is your truck. He barely even has time to put his own truck into park before he’s jumping out of it and calling your name. 

Boone is quick to follow him.

Tyler’s eyes narrow in on something in the distance – the remnants of your truck. It’s sitting upside down, the cab crushed in and all the glass broken. Even some of the wheels are missing. His heart almost stops.

No, you would have been smart enough to get out. You wouldn’t have stayed in the truck. He knows that. He believes that. It was one of the first things any storm chaser learnt – never stay in your car, it’s better to take your chances outside of it.

He stops in the middle of the field and takes a long, deep breath to try and calm himself down when he hears the sound of someone yelling out.

“Hey, I need some help over here!”

It’s a male voice, not belonging to you, which is the first sign that makes Tyler realise something is wrong. He recognises Robbie immediately, even though he’s drenched in rain and covered in mud and blood.

Boone runs off towards him and Tyler follows.

“Where is she?” He cuts in as Boone begins asking Robbie where he’s been hurt. “Were you with her? Where is she?” 

He knows he’s being a little irrational. He should be kinder, especially when he’s the reason Robbie was even in this tornado in the first place, but his mind is narrowed in on you, on making sure you’re okay. He’s never been more terrified that he’s lost you in his life.

“I don’t know,” Robbie shakes his head. “She was behind me, and then I jumped down into this little dam and she never came in after me.” 

Tyler doesn’t let him say anything else before he takes off running. He knows Boone can handle Robbie. His only concern is finding you. He calls out your name again and again and again, willing you to respond to just one of them.

He only hears silence.

—

The second you wake up, you push yourself up, getting your face out of the mud and opening your eyes, trying to adjust them to the sudden brightness now that the tornado has disappeared. 

You’re vaguely aware of the sound of someone calling out your name, but it sounds fuzzy, far away. Your head is spinning and you’re pretty sure you could be imagining it.

You put a hand up to the side of your face, feeling the sticky sensation of blood on your hands. Something must have hit your head and knocked you out during the tornado. You can only remember something hitting your leg as you’d slid down into the gully. How long have you been lying here? Minutes? Hours? Days, even?

Looking around, you can see the devastation caused by the tornado. There are trees and branches everywhere, and with the rain, it’s made it even muddier – and probably impossible to climb out of, especially with your injuries. You finally allow yourself to inspect your leg, noticing a deep cut across your shin, ripping your jeans. Your leg starts to throb as you finally allow yourself to recognise the pain. 

With a deep breath, you try and push yourself to your feet. It’s slippery down here thanks to all the mud and rain, and you manage to stand for just a second before your leg buckles and sends you crashing back down. At least it’s a fairly soft landing.

You curse under your breath just as you hear movement above you. Your eyes flicker towards the direction of the sound, and when you see Tyler Owens appear at the edge of the gully just to the right of you, you nearly feel like you could cry.

“Tyler!” You manage to call out to him, though your voice is weak.

His head spins towards your voice, eyes widening as he sees you. You must look like a mess, covered in all the blood and dirt, but you knows he doesn’t care. Especially with the way he slides down into the gully and stumbles towards you, getting covered in mud himself in the process.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt?” He falls to his knees in front of you, his hands moving to cup your cheeks and move your head from side to side. He’s quick to check the wound on your head where the blood is coming from. “You’re okay, darlin’, it doesn’t look too deep.”

You can see the panic in his eyes as he scans you, scans your whole body looking for injuries. You can also tell from the look on his face when he looks at your shin that your injury there is worrisome. 

“It’s my fault,” Tyler shakes his head, refusing to move his hands from your cheeks. It’s as if you’ll fade away if he lets go. “I shouldn’t have told you to go east. I was just trying to get you out of the way of the tornado cause I felt that yours wasn’t gonna develop, but then ours changed course and it was heading straight towards you and I couldn’t get here fast enough and god, the idea of losing you, of never seeing you again, of never asking–”

“Tyler!” 

He stops talking, having not even realised that he had let the situation get the better of him and had been rambling on. When he meets your eyes, you’re shocked to see that there are tears in his. 

“You never call me by my first name.”

“I didn’t think I’d be able to get your attention if I didn’t.”

Your reach up and take one of his hands off of your face and weave your fingers between his. You don’t really know what you’re doing, exactly, but all you know is you need to comfort him. That and you’re shaking like a leaf and the feeling of holding his hand is like an anchor to the world. A reminder that you’re alive. 

“I’m still here, Tyler. I’m all right.”

“You’re not,” he shakes his head. “You’re hurt, and it’s because of me–”

You take him by surprise as you reach up and place your own hand on his cheek. It’s only when you touch his face that you remember your hand is covered in blood and mud, but when you try and take it away, Tyler places his hand over the top of it. His eyes flutter closed and he lets out a long breath that feels to you that it’s something like relief.

The two of you stay there like that for what feels like an eternity but is really just a few minutes, soaking in the feeling of each others skin and coming to terms with the realisation that you’re alive. 

“It’s not your fault, Tyler,” you mutter softly. “You couldn’t have known that tornado was going to change course and head straight for us. Just because that bet ended up landing us in the path of a probable EF4 doesn’t mean you’re the one to blame for it. I don’t blame you.”

He blinks his eyes open and stares at yours for a moment. 

“Now, what were you saying about asking me something?” You try to change the subject.

There’s a look of something in Tyler’s eyes that you can’t quite place, but it drops off of his face instantly at your words and he lets out an awkward laugh. “I don’t think now’s the right time, darlin’,” he says. “Some other time, when you’re not bleeding and injured. We need to get you out of here and to a hospital.”

You shake your head, ignoring the fact that the movement makes you a little dizzy. “I could have just died and I would have never known what it is you wanted to ask me. So I want to know what it is right now.” You’re surprised at how strong your voice sounds, even though you don’t feel strong at all right now.

Tyler sighs and you can see by the look on his face that he’s giving in to you. “I was trying to get the courage to ask you out, was trying last night actually but I chickened out. You can be quite intimidating sometimes, you know that?”

For a moment, you just stare at Tyler. 

“I thought I was the one who hit my head. Did you hit yours too?”

He lets out a soft laugh. “Something like that.”

“You need another reminder that we’re supposed to hate each other?”

Tyler shakes his head. “I think I’ve had enough reminders to last me a lifetime. But I’m done with pretending to hate you. With trying to convince my team that I dislike you so much. I know they know the truth. It doesn’t matter, even though you can’t stand me.” 

You meet Tyler’s eyes and in them, you can see that he’s telling the truth. He doesn’t hate you, nor dislike you, nor anything similar. With the way he’s looking at you, the way he was calling your name, the way he panicked so much when he thought you were seriously hurt… he really was trying to ask you out. Just the thought of it makes that feeling rise in your stomach again, and for the first time you recognise the feeling for what it truly is – butterflies. You don’t get butterflies from people you hate.

“I don’t hate you, Tyler.”

You can see the surprise flash across his eyes.

“You don’t hate me?”

“You annoy the hell out of me and you drive me insane sometimes. But no. You fascinate me, and you make me laugh, and even though every member of my team hates you and your stupid red truck, I’ve always wondered what it’d be like to be in the passenger seat with you, driving head first into a tornado, and I nearly said yes when you asked me earlier.”

Tyler chuckles. “My truck is not stupid.”

“Does your passenger seat really have my name on it?”

“Embroidered it myself.”

You laugh, then, a real, full laugh, and Tyler can’t help but laugh as well at the absurdity of the situation. You’ve just survived a devastating tornado, you’re injured in more ways than one, Tyler Owens has just told you he likes you and you’ve come to the realisation that you like the fact that he does. And maybe, you like him a little bit too.

“We’re not gonna make it to that rodeo tonight, are we?” You ask, once the laughs subside.

Tyler shakes his head. “Rain check for the next one?”

“That’s how you’re asking me out?”

He doesn’t get a chance to reply before you both hear your names being called and look up just as Boone and Robbie appear at the top of the gully. Tyler turns around to look at them. They look relieved to have found you both, and you feel just as relieved to see that Robbie is alive and well, only a little battered just like you are. Even if you’re a little disappointed that your moment with Tyler was interrupted. It seems that happens more often than not lately.

“Is she okay?” Boone asks Tyler.

He nods. “Yeah, but she’s injured. We’re gonna need a hand out of here.”

“We got you,” Boone says.

—

“So, when are you asking me out properly, Owens?” You ask.

It’s been a week since the tornado and a week since you found out that Tyler Owens had been wanting to ask you out for months. Boone had stayed true to his word that day, using a rope and Tyler’s truck to pull you both up out of the gully.

Tyler had barely left your side since – even in the truck ride to the hospital. He usually hated letting anyone drive his truck other than himself, but that day he’d thrown the keys to Boone so he didn’t have to take any of his attention off of you. He’d stayed with you in the hospital as well, even when the rest of your team turned up to check on you and Robbie.

You were surprised at how quickly your teams had dropped their rivalry after the tornado. They’d clearly seen the way you and Tyler acted around each other, how things had changed after the tornado, even though both of you refused to give them details on what had happened when Tyler had found you in the gully. 

It was something both of you were glad for.

“You can’t just ask me that,” Tyler says, kicking his legs up on the desk in the small motel room. Luckily, he’d taken off his muddy boots when he’d come inside to check on you. He had insisted you go back home to recover from your leg injury, but you’d refused. 

“I can’t?” You ask from your spot on the bed, resting your leg up on some pillows. It had luckily not been too bad of an injury, just a reasonably deep cut that needed stitching and wrapping. You still had to be careful not to rip the stitches, which meant no storm chasing and only resting for the time being. 

Tyler nods. “You made me admit the truth to you while we were both covered in mud and blood in the bottom of a wet, muddy gully. I’m not going to ask you out while you’re sitting on a motel room bed with an injured leg and stitches in your forehead. I’m classier than that.”

You snort. “You, classy?”

“From time to time,” he shrugs a shoulder.

You jokingly roll your eyes at him. “I’ll believe it when I see it. You know, you never actually explained what the other bet you wanted to make with me that day was. Was that something to do with asking me out as well?”

Tyler’s face broke out into a grin. “Maybe.”

“Of course,” you can’t help but laugh at the silly look on his face. “Are you at least going to ask me before I get swept up in another tornado?”

“Darlin’,” Tyler stands up and crosses the room until he’s standing right beside you. One of his hands reaches down and picks up yours, weaving his fingers in-between yours. “If you get swept up in a tornado, I’m going to be right beside you. I’m gonna be beside you for as long as you let me. For as long as I get. As long as I get, okay?”

He repeats it like a mantra. Because if he says it enough, he’s certain it will come true.

[kenzie-ann27]

what's the worst generation to have as parents and why is it gen x

[ms-spkhd]

It's not like there's anything inherently wrong with Steve. Just...weird. Odd. A wealth of other various synonyms to describe his decidedly bizarre behavior.

Well, Bizarre's a strong word.

But Eddie's point still stands! Steve's a little to the left and it makes Eddie feel endlessly awkward for noticing. The fact that he's uncomfortable about it compounds his unease over it.

"Wanna talk about it, then?" Jeff asks, riffling idly through the record crate. Of course, the one day off they spend window-shopping in Indianapolis results in Eddie getting the fucking 'let's discuss our feelings about things' talk from Jeff. He wonders how the man isn't green with sickness from therapizing all the goddamn time.

Eddie rolls his eyes. "I'd look like an idiot."

"Would the idiot keep running or confront his problems head-on?"

"This feels like a trap."

"Oh yeah," Jeff says simply.

"Like the ones with the cardboard box and the stick."

"Pre-cisely."

Eddie's shoulders slump in defeat. Better the idiot who speaks, he supposes. "He's very smiley about me being gay."

"Smiley."

"Smiley. As in he's acting like I vomit flowers and shit rainbows." Eddie shakes his head in frustration. "I'm not opposed to the support and everything...it's just that. He's like an octave higher than usual about it."

Jeff purses his lips in thought. "Like, his voice?"

"No--like...like, he's very enthusiastic about my sexuality."

Eddie leans back against the shelf behind him. Steve's a nice guy, really, but the way he goes about his support of Eddie feels like he's trying to compensate for something. A lack of empathy when he was younger, perhaps.

"He always asks if I have a boyfriend, or if I've been hooking up with any guys lately--which, hello, does he not know that queer metalhead nerd isn't a very hot item here?"

Jeff pulls a face but nods in understanding.

"And when I tell him obviously no, he says he can hook me up with his, what? Fucking father's brother's cousin's former roommate? It's like he's begging for a double date with him and his new squeeze, it's goddamn ridiculous." "New squeeze?"

"I'm hyperbolizing." Eddie blows a raspberry and shrugs. "He says it's sad that I don't have someone for how good-looking I am. You're making the face again."'

Jeff snaps out of whatever trance he's in, his drawn eyebrows shooting up to his hairline in surprise. After his gawking mouth clacks shut, he cautiously gestures at Eddie to continue.

"It's stupid," Eddie concedes, "but I really don't understand what changed, y'know? He used to be this cool, confident guy with a dorky side, but now he's just so...I don't know."

Jeff smiles lightly and knocks Eddie's shoulder with his. "I have a theory."

"Go on."

"I think Steve isn't being supportive."

"Uh-huh."

"Far from it, actually."

"Yeah. Whatever you say, chief."

"He isn't smothering you," Jeff points out. "He wants to fuck you."

Eddie blinks. Takes a moment to access and really take in what Jeff just said. "What?"

"Or at least, he wants you in an entirely non-friendly and possibly even carnal way."

"Excuse me?"

"Biblically."

"Dude," Eddie insists. "What. The. Fuck."

Jeff raises his hands placatingly. "Steve clearly likes you. A lot. He probably sees you being gay as an in for him."

"Okay, well, I don't understand. He tries to set me up with randos he knows all the time."

"He called you good-looking."

"While he was trying to set me up with said rando!"

"Guys like him have a really backward way of doing things." Eddie crosses his arms sternly. "Or he's straight," he says.

"Again," Jeff asserts. "Good. Looking. Dude, he's fucking obsessed with you! You said he's an octave higher around you now, right?"

"Because he's a well-meaning friend?"

"Eddie, remember when he crashed band practice last week?"

Oh yeah, Eddie remembers that. The man of the hour randomly parked in Gareth's driveway, leaned against his Beemer with his arms crossed, and watched Eddie play like he fucking hung the moon. Afterward, he'd sung his praises for the band and gave Eddie a yellow guitar pick attached to a sparkling silver chain. "Found the pick a couple of towns south with Robin the other day. Reminded me of you," he said softly. "Since you lost your last one."

It went unspoken where Eddie lost 'the last one'.

Eddie remembers smiling back at Steve with the force of a thousand supernovas, and thinking later in the night that it felt like a scene from a romance movie. Steve's favorite color is yellow, isn't it? It was like he wanted a piece of himself with Eddie at all times, right next to his heart.

Eddie didn't want to give himself that stupid hope. That Steve Harrington wanted in on his heart.

It doesn't feel so stupid anymore.

He looks back at Jeff and says, "Oh."

"Yeah, oh."

[screampied]

i have an idea :]

ok so i always see people asking for gentle/needy/desperate choso. and i love it, but…

what about unassumingly ruthless choso? reader doesn’t know what she’s getting into? reader is cocky and gets humbled FAST? idk i just…

👉👈

❤︎ ໋𓈒 choso who puts his cute bratty gf in her place

warnings. fem! reader, attempted brat taming, doggystyle, big dick choso, unprotected.

you’ve always been one to push his buttons, mainly because he always made it so easy.

choso was as intimidating as a kitten, whenever you’d tease him he’d always keep composure or restrain himself.

briefly smiling nervously, kissing your wrist and telling you to be a good girl and wait until you each return home.

but one day, he kind of just snaps…

he takes you home from shopping nearly all day with you, and you were enthusiastically ecstatic. you wondered what he’d do this time, but your thoughts were no match for what he had initially planned. to put it brief, choso had you laid on the bed on all fours. he’s drilling ruthlessly into your pussy and you’re just…speechless. choso’s so handsy, every few seconds he’d spank your ass to hear you whine out his name—in such two slutty syllables.

“c-choso..” you’d moan, the left side of your cheek attached practically to the silk bed sheets as if it was velcro.

“shh, no talkin, princess,” he grunts, and you could hear the slight whine picking up his voice before he stops himself. “i-i have to be more stern with you it seems. can’t always be so nice, gotta humble you just a little bit, fuck.”

if it was a word to perfectly describe you right now, at this particular moment…it would for sure be…dumbfounded.

you couldn’t see yourself but you’d bet money you looked stupid.

choso’s dick was so lengthy, appetizing and hitting every spot with just the tiniest amount of pressures his thrusts had you gnawing on the inside of your cheek with your toes curling tightly.

“what’s the matter? no more attitude?” he huffs, tilting his head to move some remaining strands that were starting to occlude his vision.

“i-if you’re gonna be rough, at least go h—”

“…oh, baby, you’re jus’ asking for it by this point.” he murmurs, wiping his forehead with the back of his palm.

your eyes rolls at feeling the very tips the curve of choso’s cock kiss against your folds. so deep, his thrusts were sloppy. purely responsible for the squelched that continuously sang throughout the room.

choso grabs onto both of your waist, and you moan once he’s just dragging your hips back and forth against him, making sure you feel every thick inch of his.

“do me a favor ‘n arch your back more,” immensely, you do—your body responds to choso with such a quickness it was simply humiliating. “good girl….now,” and you barely recognize choso’s voice. usually it’s so sweet and tender, now it was rough and a bit husky, a rasp hidden underneath each sentence he spoke.

needless to say, you found this version of choso to be quite hot.

“wait,” he pauses, pausing the mood with his own cute stammer in his voice, back to normal. “not goin' to rough, am i? i want you to be comfortable and-”

“baby, ‘m fine. keep fucking me please.” you pleaded, feeling his hips stutter as he was in the middle of talking. even trying to keep up a act, he still wanted to make sure you were okay—choso simpers to himself, caressing your ass before spanking it yet another time.

“okay okay,” he hums. his hips pick up again and you’re basically being pounded into the bed. the grip he had on your hips wasn’t too rough but just the perfect amount.

choso’s breathing starts to pick up, and he enjoys the view of you more than he thought he would. his head goes back, along with his let down hair before he pivots his hips a certain way. your pussy clamped down against him and you hear his jaw clench in pleasure. “…shit.”

your legs quavered beneath him, and he then used a hand to bring both of your wrists behind your back. “j-just like that choso, please, please.”

“baby, you’re not supposed to be praising me,” he pouts, and you giggle before moaning again — a sudden moment occurs where you thickly swallow, only to continue your sweet whimpers. “this was s-supposed to be a punishment.”

“so punish me then.” you mewled, your cunt easily hugs him like a vice, the noise it makes, a wet pop and you’re just soaked. choso’s ears grows hot from the feeling and he knows you can feel it too.

he sighs, shoving you further into the bed. “you’re something else.” and his voice grows low and pitched again—yet choso does the unexpected. he leans right into you, and you instantaneously feel the heel of his foot press against the very back of your head.

he wore socks, the soft padded wool brushes against your neck, and he’s roughly driving into your pussy now to where you can’t even saying anything.

all that came out of your dumb mouth was a squeal, this angle…

“let me have you,” he grunts, balls deep, his base was thick and repeatedly thwacked against your entrance. you were dizzy…drunk, but not that kind of drunk. the good kind where all you could think about was how good you were getting stuffed by your boyfriend’s hefty cock. “yeah, just lie down and let me—fuck.”

you’re panting, and it felt so good.

choso was always used to being gentle and tender with you, although if you wanted him to be a little rougher, he was more than happy to oblige.

“i-i’m gonna cum, choso… gonna make me cum.”

“don’t think you deserve it, he utters, and your lips part, jaw dropping, plethora of sweetened moans only escaping as a subtle response. “you’ve been teasing me all day. even started to stroke me in the dressing room.”

“s-sorry.” you moaned.

choso remains with his foot near the back of your head before pursing his eyebrows together. “you’re not sorry are you, baby? be honest.”

“n—no,” you whined, the thickness of his shaft twitching inside of you felt so heavenly. you could have sworn you felt a vein that ran down his length pulse inside of your tight cunt. “you’re right, you’re right, ‘m not s-sorry.”

he chuckles. “you could have just lied, you know?”

choso’s angle and thrusts against you were so pivotal inside you, so astonishingly deep that not even moments later you end up cumming hard. leaving a ring around his base. your breathing was irregular and heavy, eyes half-lidded and just convulsing underneath him.

“messy girl,” he whispers, pulling out, not even caring that he didn’t finish, all that matters was that you did. choso turns you over before planting a kiss on your lips—you pull him in for another, and another, before you make him trample onto you. “did you learn your lesson?”

“no,” you moaned, sitting up before lightly shoving him down on his back, straddling his lap now. “i want more.”

choso smirks, sliding a hand down your waist, fully disregarding his flustered face at seeing you attempt to take control. “of course you do, brat.”