#the pocket was not even overflowing

[mozart-the-meerkitten]

I survived another year of my life on this planet and I’m going to make it everyone else’s problem (by continuing to post the same weird crap as before)

[crazyw3irdo]

give me your pronouns. put em in the bag and no one gets hurt

[sweet-as-an-angel]

Hiiii, I loveeeee ur work ❤️

I was thinking about a head cannon of how some of the mw2 characters (ghost, soap, König, etc) would react to their partner sending them a nude photo?👀👀👀

Sorry if you did this already but I’m pretty sure you haven’t tho cuz I definitely would have read it already 😭

MW2 Reaction to Receiving a Special™ Photo from Their S/O

Warnings: 18+ (just to be safe), Non-Specific/Explicit Implications of Smut, No Pronouns used for Reader except 'You', Singular Mention of Graves Throwing Himself off a Cliff, Dominant! MW2, Submissive! MW2, Dominant! Reader, Submissive! Reader, Profanity, etc.

Ghost

He will literally stare bug-eyed at the picture you’ve sent him like 👁️O👁️

Since it’s a physical photograph, he keeps it on him like a chapstick, which is to say all the time.

He isn’t risking ANYONE besides himself seeing it.

And when he’s about to embark on a mission, he keeps it tucked into his vest right where his heart is so that it’s practically part of him.

He likes to think that, somehow, you can hear – feel – his heart beating, know that he’s still alive and fighting so that he can come home and see you.

And when he returns from a mission and goes to his quarters, he has some…alone time.

You know, to really study the picture.

Not that he doesn’t know every curve and edge of your body already.

But that doesn't stop him growling your name into the pillow as he rocks against it, a hole cut into the bottom of it – a poor imitation of you.

A makeshift lover.

If anyone ends up seeing that picture – if they stole it from him, if by some act of God (because that’s what it’ll take) it slipped out of his vest or pocket – they are in for a World of Pain™.

There won’t be a time they won’t flinch upon hearing Ghost’s name, or when they see his shadow like an omen on the wall as he commandeers the halls. Prowling.

He’d feel pretty guilty about someone else seeing you how he does, even if it was only for a fraction of a second.

So he’s definitely going to make it up to you when he gets back <3

König

His heart can’t take this kind of torment.

He’ll be looking down at his phone, the image of you burning into his skin like a holy artefact.

He definitely gets more jumpy around people when he has his phone on him.

Will literally clam up and shove it into the deepest recesses of his pocket if someone comes too close.

Even when your picture is safely stored behind a password-protected photo album.

He has to excuse himself from training or other commitments whenever his mind wanders back to you, and subsequently that image (which is basically all the time).

Sometimes he calls you while he’s sorting himself out.

He just needs to hear your voice – to feel closer to you.

It’s the only way he can finish.

“Engel,” he rasps, his breath stuttering, “I need you,”

And everyone just looks at him like he’s grown a third eye when he returns because, unbeknownst to him, König can’t keep quiet, and everyone who has never heard even a peep from him is suddenly aware of the carnality that lies beneath his skin, wired into his soul.

And at the centre is his love for you, boundless and overflowing so that the rest of his teammates know it, too.

Not that they mind all too much.

They all sit and think that you must be one beautiful person to evoke such a response from König.

Soap

Will tease you back.

Sends a mirror pic of him in a tight black shirt, saying something like ‘You’ll see the rest when I get home.’

Is absolutely ravenous when it comes to you.

No cap, goes absolutely ham in the shower when the image of you in nothing flashes in his mind.

His low moans are enough of a warning for the rest of the 141 to stay away for the next half an hour or so.

Aside from that, he’ll just look at the picture because he finds you beautiful.

Stares at it while he’s in bed. Laments on how much he misses you ☹️.

He’s counting down the days until he can see you again, and with each that passes, he can feel your silhouette becoming tangible in his hands, as if you were stepping out of the photo.

Sometimes, he dreams that you’re there with him, nestled between his arms.

Other times the dreams are a little more…graphic.

But Johnny can’t help it.

He just can’t contain himself when it comes to you.

Valeria

If you thought her violent tendencies could never extend to you, prepare to be amazed.

The second this woman sees what you’re trying to do – or, rather, what she thinks you’re trying to do – she is not happy.

You could have sent that image with the purest (within reason) of intentions; just letting Valeria know that you miss her, wishing her a good day – whatever.

What she sees is you trying to manipulate her by using your body as an instrument of destruction.

Dramatic, yes. But Valeria has never been one to take chances.

She’ll be deceptively calm over text: ‘Don’t tease me, Darling. You know what happens when you do.’

All day, all she can see is that image.

Whenever she turns a corner, you’re there; whenever she’s talking to someone, you’re peering at her over their shoulder; when she’s alone, you’re sat with her – on her – trying to take her attention away from her paperwork.

Redemption is a baseless concept when Valeria returns home that evening.

You will not know rest until she’s done with you.

Price

“Fuckin’ Hell, Love,” he’ll say, the darkness hanging on his voice tangible even through the voice note.

“What’ve you been up to while I’ve been away, hmm ?”

Will not rest until he knows he’s got you hot and bothered.

This entails him sending increasingly risqué images of himself; first, just one of him flexing, his arms thick and crawling with veins.

The next is of his shirt raised just below his chest, the dim light of the room keeping enough of him shrouded that his identity is unknown to all but you, his wide silhouette taking up most of the picture.

And, if you decide to be resilient against his attempts to make you feel as you have him, you’ll receive a series of menacing messages.

‘Don’t get too comfortable, Angel’, he’ll say.

‘You never know when I’ll come through that door–’

He grins as he sees you’ve read his message, hanging on his every word.

‘And ravage you.’

And you know he means it, too.

Meanwhile, he’s multitasking; keeping a clear, professional head and giving orders while resisting the primal urge to drop everything and find you.

And no amount of pleading or tears will spare you from his wrath when he returns.

Horangi

Regardless of how well the military life trained his self-discipline, nothing can dampen the sheer need Horangi feels whenever he receives a special picture from you.

I’m talking: he will literally sit in silence for ten minutes because he’s got a raging issue he needs to take care of but can’t risk anyone else seeing it.

Will thunder down the hall to the nearest bathroom when the meeting’s over and take out his frustrations there.

When he calls, you’d better pick up the first time.

If you don’t, you’ll have Hell to pay when gets home.

“Baby,” he breathes down the phone, the fog already making his mind frost over, his body burning up.

“What have you done to me–”

These brief encounters are the only thing keeping him sane while he’s away; they make him feel closer to you.

And, repaying you in kind, he returns one night, in the silence of the moon hours.

He finds you, pulls you to him, clutching on tight as you begin to wake.

And, between delirium and consciousness, his voice is all you can hear.

“Shouldn’t have tested me, Sweetheart,” he says, whispering as though partaking in a secret.

“Now I’m going to have to challenge you.” His arms are snakes as they constrict you.

“Fall asleep before I’m done with you, and I promise there will be no end to your suffering.”

Alejandro

Teasing a man as passionate as Alejandro is not going to end well for everyone involved.

Expect to receive a barrage of very choice texts back.

‘You have no idea what you’re doing to me’, he’ll say, followed by a photo of the tent in his trousers.

And a sinister: ‘But you will’.

If he’s away on business for even just a few days, he’ll go practically feral whenever he sees that picture of you.

To everyone else, he’ll be the leader Alejandro Vargas they all know him as – ruthless and righteous.

Yet, there’s something different in the way he walks as he excuses himself from the table, his destination unknown.

His gaze is narrowed and his teeth are grinding, rabid in disposition.

And when he gets home, no matter how long of a day it’s been, you’re in for a very long night.

He’ll appear behind you, a spectre, clamping a hand down on your shoulder.

“You shouldn’t test a soldier, Love,” he says, his grip tightening.

You don't turn around, an exhilarating fear keeping you frozen.

He leans down, his mouth just at your ear, his breath hot.

“Because you never know when he’ll snap.”

Rodolfo

This man is usually rather quiet and submissive when it comes to the more personal aspects of your life together.

But when you send him a picture that makes him question how long he can keep his composure for, you’re in trouble.

You’ll be receiving a phone call from a very exasperated Rodolfo, who, despite his best efforts, has succumbed to your charm.

Definitely a growler when he’s in a dominant mood.

More of a whimperer when he’s not.

At times like these, you get both.

“Darling,” he breathes, the back of his head pressed against the cold cubicle wall. “Look what you’ve done to me…”

His whining is more than enough to let you know the effect you’ve had on him.

And it’s what he says next that makes your blood run cold.

“I won’t let you get away with this.”

The husking baritone in his voice tells you he’s being truthful.

And if you try to clap back with something witty, or even an apology, Rodolfo just laughs.

“The time for mercy is long past, mi Amor,” he tells you.

“All you can do now is prepare for the Reckoning.”

Graves

This smug idiot.

Definitely smirks to himself when he gets that picture.

Has to resist the urge to show it off to everyone in the boardroom because he’s just that proud to have you as his partner.

Yes, he is hard. Yes, he’s still going to give this presentation in front of all the major shareholders.

Why ?

Because he’s Graves. Also, because he knows he has more money than everyone else in that room, and, consequently, more power.

Will shoot you back a text like: ‘Mighty fine work, Babydoll’, followed by, ‘You’re getting a promotion when I get home.’

Yes, he uses corporate jargon when discussing intimate matters.

He’s a businessman at heart, he can’t help it.

Definitely more playful than most of the others on this list.

The type to take his time with you and make you laugh while he does so.

But when he wants to be rough (and when you want him to be), he can be.

And he gets mean when he’s like that.

I’m talking hair-pulling, name-calling – basically just bullying you, but consensually.

Does his best to take care of you, though.

If he found out that he’d actually upset you, he’d literally jump off a cliff – he wouldn't be able to forgive himself.

Expect many lavish gifts if this happens, though.

But don’t tell him that I told you that 👀.

Gaz

Will nearly drop his phone – it turns to butter in his hands.

He looks over his shoulder at least fifty times before he’ll allow himself to look at the photo again.

Poor boy’s face is turning red, his palms are sweating, he can’t think straight.

Paranoid 24/7 that everyone knows he has that picture of you.

But it doesn’t intimidate him enough for him to even try to keep quiet in the barracks when he has some alone time.

Similar situation to Soap; everyone knows to steer clear of whichever room Gaz was last spotted walking into for a while.

It would take him a few days for him to send a picture back.

More than likely, it’ll be of him in a scarcely lit bathroom in nothing but his boxers with a very prominent outline in them.

Followed by a text with something to the effect of: ‘Been thinking about you all night, Sweets’

And God forbid you send him another image of yourself. And definitely do not send a message saying ‘Aww, has my good boy been behaving himself ?’

Will literally send him over the edge.

The rest of the 141 can’t commandeer the bathroom for the rest of the day after that.

And when Gaz gets home, just know that your phone screen can’t protect you anymore.

Not when you have a man made of pure intellect and solid mass running full-force at you with all the pent-up energy seen only in a nuclear reactor.

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

Masterlist Masterlist [Continued] Masterpost Modern Warfare AI Masterlist

AO3 Wattpad

[uolarieclosed]

nishimura riki ☆ ! glue song

━━━ in which the soccer captain can’t contain his overflowing desire for you …

NISHIMURA RIKI who leaves a drink he got at the cafeteria on your desk every morning before you come in.

“they didn’t have the one you liked, so i got you chocolate instead.” riki stands beside your desk with his hands in his pockets as he watches you grab the drink. “you really didn’t have to riki.” “i wanted to.”

NISHIMURA RIKI who likes to tease you by hiding your pencil case or work book so he can have an excuse to talk to you.

NISHIMURA RIKI who does anything he can to get you both in trouble so you can be in detention together and he has more time to spend with you.

NISHIMURA RIKI who shares his earbuds with you in class and has a specifically curated playlist for you with songs you said you like.

NISHIMURA RIKI who stares at you shamelessly just to watch you blush under his gaze.

NISHIMURA RIKI who flirts with you because he knows about the tiny crush you have on him.

“so, what’s your type?” he asks one day while he plays with your hair. “is it me?” he raises his eyebrows, teasing you but in reality he hopes you say yes.

NISHIMURA RIKI who invites you to his soccer game with plans on asking you out after + he makes you wear his jersey so everyone knows you’re his.

SOCCER!CAPTAIN RIKI who asks you out with an entire poster board held up by his teammates and a bouquet of your favorite flowers.

SOCCER!CAPTAIN RIKI who leaves his team zip up at your place so you can wear it to school (also because he loves when it smells like you).

SOCCER!CAPTAIN RIKI who walks you home everyday without fail even though he’s always late to his practice.

SOCCER!CAPTAIN RIKI who won’t shut up about you in the locker room and everyone knows who you are despite not meeting you properly.

SOCCER!CAPTAIN RIKI who tries hard every game and practice to impress you knowing you’re in the stands watching him.

“put your shirt down!” heeseung yells as riki wipes his sweat off—showing his abs and smirking at you.

SOCCER!CAPTAIN RIKI who introduces himself as your boyfriend to all your friends.

SOCCER!CAPTAIN RIKI who thinks your kisses are his lucky charm and cannot go to the field without one of your pecks.

“why aren’t you playing?” you run your hands through his hair as he pouts. “you didn’t give me my kiss.” his arms are crossed and he huffs until you give in.

SOCCER!CAPTAIN RIKI who has a shrine of you in his locker and occasionally has conversations with you before his practice (he’s insane).

SOCCER!CAPTAIN RIKI who goes all out for valentine’s day and sends a flower to you every class period until you have a full bouquet.

“did you like my surprise?” his arm is around your shoulder as he walks through the halls. “it was nice riki, thank you.” “there’s still more.”

SOCCER!CAPTAIN RIKI who gets jealous easily and doesn’t like it when you give someone else his undivided attention, so he gives you the cold shoulder.

however, he doesn’t last long until he’s spamming your phone and showing up at your house for late night cuddles.

“i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to ignore you.” he mutters while he hides in the crook of your neck feeling nervous but also accomplished.

SOCCER!CAPTAIN RIKI who buys you matching jewelry and clothes because he feels connected even when you both are away from one another.

SOCCER!CAPTAIN RIKI who teaches you how to play soccer so he can brag to all his teammates.

“so, i’ve been thinking that jake should be replaced by my girlfriend.” “stop it!”

SOCCER!CAPTAIN RIKI who claims that the reason he exists is to be your boyfriend.

SOCCER!CAPTAIN RIKI who isn’t shy to say he loves you with all his heart.

“i think you’re the coolest person ever, i love you.” he randomly says one night as you both go for a walk, but ultimately you feel the same.

© 2024 uolarie

[whytheylosttheirminds]

LUNCH

(rafe cameron blurb)

pairing: waitress!reader x rafe cameron

content: smut, 18+ minors do not interact!

‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿

You usually liked your job. Being on your feet all day sucked, and some of the members here were assholes, but they were rich assholes and you never left without your purse overflowing with tips.

It only took a few weeks of waitressing at the Island Club’s restaurant to learn what kinds of things had you clocking out with pockets full of twenties and fifties. You weren’t even from North Carolina originally, but you adopted a sweet, southern drawl to match your fake smile. When you were back-of-house waiting on food for your tables, you’d drop the act, fucking around with the cooks and swearing like a sailor, immediately codeswitching to an angelic southern belle when you were back on the floor.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” the old men would say when you dropped off their burgers. 

“You’re welcome, hun,” you’d say to their face, followed by “get fucked, creep,” once your back was turned.

Somehow, the younger guys were even worse. At least the older men had some subtlety, but the twenty-something, trustfunded Kook boys that would come in had absolutely no tact, and they tipped like shit.

Today, none of your work friends were scheduled with you, your new manager had laid into you about your dress being too short for a professional environment, and to top it off, you were working a double. You were actually considering quitting when a herd of local boys came barrelling into the restaurant, fresh off of making fools of themselves on the golf course - all swagger and no skill. You groaned when they sat themselves in your section.

You had absolutely no patience left in you. Instead of your usual chipper greeting and the list of today’s specials, you arrived at their table snapping, “you’re supposed to wait to be seated.”

The guy closest to you looked up under the shadow of his Titlest hat, a smug glint in his eyes as he said, “y'know, you’d be prettier if you smiled. You’d make a lot more money too.” His buddies erupted in laughter, as if he’d just brought the house down with his wit.

You were so fucking done, not even caring if you lost your job.

“Eat me,” you bit back at him. A casual flick of your middle finger in his face as you spun and sauntered away. He watched your hips swing as you left.

‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿

Your dress was bunched up around your waist and apron thrown on the club’s bathroom floor. He kneeled behind you as your nails dug into the marble countertop. Fingertips digging into your ass cheeks, he shook his head back and forth rapidly, dragging his tongue all over your pussy. His pornographic slurps made you whimper helplessly, so incredibly frustrated and turned on. He turned his hat around backwards so he could get deeper.

His big hand came down hard on the side of your thigh with a loud thwack. There would be a red handprint at the hem of your dress when you returned from your 15-minute break. If your boss wasn’t pissed at you before, you were in for it now. But you were too fucked out to care, forgetting all about your bad shift. You let him devour you, your whole body shuddering with every precise flick of his tongue against your clit.

He nibbled at the skin of your inner thighs as he hooked his fingers into you skillfully, drunk on the sound of all the pretty profanities that flowed from your lips.

You came so hard he had to hold you up against the bathroom sink, your knees shaking as you struggled to pull your panties back up. He stood behind you, wiping his mouth sloppily with the back of his hand. He caught your eyes in the mirror, smiling arrogantly at your bright red cheeks and smudged makeup.

“Be careful what you wish for, sweetheart.” 

‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿

Your legs wobbled as you walked back to the table with only his drink on your tray. His friends were already getting up to leave, complaining about how long their food was taking. You'd forgotten all about their orders. He took the cold glass from you with a wink, throwing it back before following his friends to the door.

“You gonna pay for that?” You scoffed.

“Put it on Cameron!” He called back.

You rolled your eyes.

Maybe you’d keep this job a little longer.

[bluejutdae]

• best friend Stray Kids saving you (or being saved by you) from a bad date | Jisung x you

Chan | Minho | Changbin | Hyunjin | Felix | Seungmin | Jeongin

genre: friends to lovers, romance

warnings: none

The guy is boring, misogynistic and keeps talking about his job like it’s the best thing in the world. He’s a banker, for fuck’s sake. How exciting can it be?

What did Hannie mean with “play along”? You smile thinking about your best friend. You have been friends for years now, and you’re convinced he’s your soulmate. Maybe he feels the same, but he’s unyielding in his idea of needing to be alone, to only focus on his career and not let romance distract him. You love him, but who are you to try to convince him he’s wrong? So you keep your feelings in line and don’t let them overflow.

“Oh, my love, please forgive me! I know I made a mistake but take me back!” A loud voice interrupts the umpteenth story about bankers. Jisung is in the restaurant now, hands clasping over his heart and his big boba eyes on you. “I can’t lose you, you’re the best thing in my life.”

Oh, so this is what he meant by “play along”?

“Sung”, you start. In a very dramatic manner, he interrupts you, a finger on your lips and unshed tears in his eyes.

“No, don’t talk. Hear me for a moment, I have to ask you this, even if it’s the last thing I get to say to you”.

You repress the instinct to roll your eyes. To your right you can hear a confused “what the fuck is happening?”. Jisung’s voice is loud again, tho, and he’s suddenly on his knee, looking up at you with a teary smile. “My love, would you make me the happiest man alive and marry me?” He has a ring in his hand. Where the fuck did he find a ring? Does he go around with an engagement ring in his pockets? Well, this is your best friend. And he’s fucking crazy.

You almost throw the napkin on the plate and get on your knees in front of Jisung. “Yes, yes, of course!” The smile on your lips is one of amusement, but for everyone is the smile of a newly engaged girl.

A round of applause fills the room and soon there’s a chanting of ‘kiss, kiss, kiss’.

The thing is: Han didn’t think this through. Did he stop at a street vendor's stall to buy the prettiest (fake) ring for this? Yes. Did he plan this whole farce in his head to have fun? Also yes. Did he put his fingers in his eyes so he would tear up? Sadly, yes. Did he stop for a second thinking about the fact that newly engaged couples kiss? No.

Jisung looks at you with comically large eyes and his mouth slightly agape and you take pity on him. Suppressing your laughter, you cradle his face into your hand and kiss him. It’s just a simple peck: your lips on his soft, pretty lips; your hand covers the most of the kiss from the guy you had a date with, but it’s the least of your worries now.

It’s just a simple kiss, chaste and functional to the farce, but it’s something you’ve dreamt for a while. The minutes following are a blur in your mind: you left your share of money on the table, apologized quickly to your date and grabbed your coat, leaving the restaurant hand in hand with Jisung.

You’re running on the empty sidewalk, still holding hands, laughing loudly when it starts to snow. It’s so intense and so beautiful, you both go quiet and stop. You love the snow falling: it’s so peaceful and beautiful, the snowflakes dancing in the hair, light and frozen. Seen from the outside, you’re just another couple holding hands in the streets, looking at the snow falling. For a moment alone, you let yourself daydream.

You let yourself imagine it’s real, that you’re a couple holding hands and walking home where you’ll get cozy on the couch, under a blanket, to watch the snow from the window. You’ll kiss again, you’ll make love, you’ll live your lives together and you’ll love each other forever. God, you’re so dumb. Why are you hurting yourself like this, now? It was just a fake kiss.

“So… we kissed.” Han says in a low voice. You can sense he’s looking at you, but you’re not ready yet to look at him and break the calm bubble you created around yourself.

“It wasn’t a real kiss.” It can’t be. Otherwise you kissed your best friend, who you’re in love with, and if it’s true then you can already see the floodgates crack under the pressure.

“It was for me.” The air is cold and it’s freezing your nose, but the shock of his words makes you forget all that.

“Uh- what?”

“The kiss. It was real for me. I know it wasn’t a big kiss but it was real. And I’ve thought about kissing you millions of times but this time it wasn’t a dream and it was real and I don’t think I can go back to when we hadn’t kiss and I don’t wanna ruin our friendship but now I know how your lips feel on mine and-“ he stops and takes a deep breath, looking down at his shoes.

“I’m sorry. I- I don’t really know what to say.”

“Do you really think it wasn't a real kiss? Does it… does it really mean nothing to you?” He asks, and you’re not sure why but you can feel your heart aching. Why does it feel like you’re rejecting him? He’s the one who doesn’t want a relationship, he’s the one who banned love from his life. And you tell him so.

“You said there was no place for anything that wasn’t work in your life.”

“That was before.”

“Before what?”

He turns completely towards you and you can barely see the redness on his round cheeks, but it’s there. “Before you kissed me and suddenly I realized how stupid I’ve been all this time. I know you’re the perfect girl for me, but I was too convinced I couldn’t handle a relationship. But why do I have to deprive myself of something I know would be good?”

“Don’t do that, Hannie. Don’t say this if you’re gonna change your mind later. You’ve repeated the same thing for years, and now suddenly you want more?” You can endure the idea of just being friends even if you’re in love with him, but you won’t let yourself get too hurt. And you’ll get hurt if he wants something now that he’ll change his mind about later.

“I’ve always wanted more. But I didn’t realize exactly how much I was giving up!”

“Tomorrow, you’ll change your mind.”

“I won’t.” Jisung lounges and grabs your hand. When did you let go of each other’s hand?

“You say that now, but tomorrow or in a week, you’ll be tired and stressed over work and you’ll decide you don’t want another commitment…” You feel like an asshole, but you’re just trying to protect yourself from an even worse heartbreak. His face shifts, and you remember that it’s your best friend the one you’re talking to, that no matter what he’ll always love and protect you from harm.

“Do you trust me?” You nod, fingers squeezing his.

“Then trust me I won’t change my mind. I won’t hurt you, I promise.” You bite the inside of your cheek, considering his words.

“I want more. I want to be able to kiss you everyday, I want to be able to call you my girlfriend. I want to be by your side on the days I’m stressed and on those I’m happy. I want to be by your side anytime you’ll let me.”

“Promise me you won’t regret it.” How can you say no to him? You’re scared he’ll break your heart, but it’s true he never broke a promise.

“I won’t regret it.” Again, it’s you who kisses him. This kiss is nothing like the previous: it’s hot and his lips are immediately moving under yours. You can feel his breath on your lips and it’s a heady feeling and you want more and more and more.

You want to know what he tastes like and how his tongue feels on yours, so you’re quick to prod at his lips, demanding entrance and licking into his mouth. The sounds Jisung makes are the best sounds you’ve ever heard, and all your worries dissipate.

Kissing your best friend under the snow wasn’t how you expected the night to go, but you’re not gonna complain…

[mrs-weasley-reid]

SAY DON'T GO

Spencer Reid x bau!reader

Sypnosis: Nothing hurts more than the fear of losing you. Word Count: 1600+ WARNING: Angst. mentions of death, blood, gunshot A/N: I wrote this in a haste, literally ten minutes ago, while listening to Say Don't Go (Taylor's Version) by mother Taylor Swift. It's definitely not perfect, but I was definitely in the zone when I wrote it, lol.

A gunshot.

Everything fades into a muffle. You blink once, twice, thrice... A wince connects your brows. As if you're figuring out if the oozing feeling on your abdomen should be causing you pain or ease.

Suddenly, Spencer's running to you. You think he's screaming. You hear nothing. There's only ringing in your ears. A thin, high-pitched ring that pierces through your brain.

You drop on the precinct's carpet floor, caressing your stomach like it's enough to stop yourself from bleeding out. You look at Spencer, "When'd you get here?" You ask, disoriented. You instantly pay attention to his watery eyes. "What's wrong? Why are you crying?" You reach to cup his cheek. You are shocked when you see your hand covered in red, smearing the liquid on his skin. Your eyes widen, "Oh, my god?! You're hurt! Spence—" You try to sit up, but a wave of stinging pain makes you fall back in his arms.

"WHERE'S THE MEDIC?!" Spencer's voice echoes in the entire place. He turns to you, unsure if he is even allowed to have you in his arms. He doesn't dwell on it as he holds your hand on his cheek, squeezing it. "Hey, hey! Breathe for me, yeah? Stay with me." He swallows a sob, placing pressure on your abdomen. "Please, stay with me..."

"I'm hurt?" Stupor begins to steal you out of consciousness. You blink. A bright light blinds your vision.

Once you open your eyes, you're back in Spencer's apartment. He's standing across the room while your feet are rooted at the door. He doesn't look at you. No. He's afraid to look at you.

His hands are buried in his pockets. He's wearing a nice suit. Fitted just for him. His tie is a dark shade of purple. You gave him that tie for his birthday last year. It's loose. His hair is a mess. And his face... it's wet.

He's crying.

You're crying.

"I think you should go," Spencer takes a gulp as he stares at the floor. Like it'd kill him if he looked at you.

You inhale deeply, sniffing as you wipe a tear with the back of your hand, "We don't have to do this, Spence. You don't have to do this."

"Yes, we do!" For the first time in what feels like forever, he finally lifts his gaze at you. His hazel eyes are rimmed with red heat, overflowing with tears. He's hurt. He's hurt, too.

"Is it really that horrible to love me?" You sob. You can hear your heart slowly shatter. Pins and needles knock on your chest. You wonder if you're still breathing right. "Am I that ugly—"

"You know that's not true, sweetheart." You hate that the nickname gives you butterflies. How his words, awful and insensitive, still made you attentively listen. How his voice still makes you want to hear more. "You're the most beautiful person I've ever met."

"Then why?!" You felt like a child throwing a tantrum. "Why are you putting a distance between us?" You bite your lower lip to stop it from quivering. "Why is it such a crime to be together?"

Spencer shifts his gaze to somewhere else. He runs a hand through his hair. You notice the coffee stain at the cuff of his sleeve. Then, you see the smudge of red lipstick past the line of his lips. Your red lipstick. He bought that lipstick a few months ago. No reason. Just for the fun of it.

Is it bad that you think he still looks handsome under the sun's setting light? Even when his hair is arrayed in different directions? Even when his face is drenched with his own tears?

He breathes deeply, audibly, "We're in the same line of work. You know better than to think we're going to work. News flash, sweetheart. It won't. It's not worth it." He can't look at you. He's ashamed to look at you.

"Not... worth it?" You blink. You stare at him with disgust, "So— So what? We're nothing, but we fuck? We're nothing, but we flirt? We're nothing, but you love me? Please, explain it to me because I'm having a difficult time understanding the stupid shit of a point you're making."

Spencer gulps for the nth time, "You love me."

"What?" You regret wanting to meet his eyes because now that he's staring at yours with such unfamiliarity, it hurts.

"You love me. You said you love me. I never said anything."

You're definitely not breathing right.

Inhale.

Exhale.

Inhale.

Exhale.

"Inhale, exhale... Yeah, that's right, sweetheart. Just follow me." Spencer holds your hand tight as the paramedics do their best to stop you from bleeding out. His voice sounds heartbreaking.

His voice...

You blink. Your hearing's back. You do as he says, inhaling and exhaling as he does. You feel lightheaded, like you're floating on a cloud.

Spencer keeps his and your hands intertwined. He follows while the paramedics roll you into the ambulance. "Hang in there, sweetheart. Please, hang in there." His face is a mess. He doesn't stop crying, swallowing his sobs.

You smile into the oxygen mask, blinking. You're on the verge of dying, and yet you find humor in knowing Spencer's tells. "You swallow when you're scared... don't be scared, Spence." You say it in broken words and in an almost soundless voice.

"I'm not," He denies, wiping his tears aggressively. He is. He's scared to the bone.

"The bullet shattered to her chest," The paramedic who inspects your chest claims, looking at her partner with worry.

"W-what?" Spencer stutters, stealing a glimpse down your neck. "No, no, sweetheart. Stay with me. Stay with me." He sees the way you flutter your eyes, fighting to stay conscious, listening to his pleas. And how you suddenly stopped, never opening your eyes back up. "Don't— Don't close your eyes! Sweetheart, please don't go. Please, don't—" He looks up at the sound of your vitals plummeting. He quickly looks back at your face, saying your name like it's a prayer.

The machine flatlines, and the paramedic pushes Spencer aside to perform resuscitation. "Sir, let us do our job." One of them says, two inches deep as she manually restarts your heart.

Spencer shoves himself in the corner of the ambulance. He wraps his arms around him. "Please, don't go..." His voice cracks and transitions into writhing sobs as he watches your body go limp with each surge of electricity that shocks your skin.

Then he thinks of that night.

He thinks of the image of you standing by the door. You don't want to go. He doesn't want you to go.

But you have to... because if you don't, he'll run to you and never let you go. So, he tells you to leave. You protest.

So stubborn. He cries in his head, wishing that you hadn't made things difficult for being so beautiful even when you're crying.

"You love me. You said you love me. I never said anything." His body shakes on the spot. His mouth goes dry. His chest compresses. He lies through his teeth.

Spencer saw the way your face turned into a ghost. He's done it.

He broke you.

He hurt you.

No turning back. No way of fixing it.

"Ah..." You say softly, nodding. "Checks out." You add without a sign of sarcasm. You stare into the air for a minute. You let the silence hover and hunt Spencer for a moment. You let him realize the pain, the stupidity of it all. "I think I should leave..." Your eyes say otherwise.

Please say, "Don't go." Tell me not to leave. Run to me... please.

You wonder if he knows it or chooses to ignore the way you held your tears. If he caught on all your tells. Because you knew he wasn't true. You knew he knew that you could read him like the back of your hand.

"Yeah," Spencer straightens his back, "I think you should."

You purse your lips into a thin line and nod, "Okay," You turn around. You take three seconds to grab the knob, but when the time has run out, you are out in a heartbeat.

"Spencer."

JJ appears in Spencer's vision. "Spencer, are you okay?" Her face was covered with worry as she placed two hands on his shoulders. She exchanges looks with Derek and Aaron.

They were there when it all went down. When the unsub came out of nowhere and started shooting. You were the first shot.

Spencer cranes his neck around. He's in the waiting room. He doesn't remember when or how he got there. All he remembers is the defibrillator jolting your unresponsive body more than once. His eyes widen. He says your name in haste as he stands up, "Where is she? Where— Where..."

Derek holds him back, "She's in surgery, Reid. Did you forget?" He asks, gently pushing Spencer back onto his seat.

"She was dead for three minutes... They couldn't find a pulse for three minutes." Spencer announces at a loss. He looks down at his hand, at the cheap friendship bracelet around his wrist. The one you made in your first year with the team as a last-minute birthday gift. He breaks into a sob, covering his eyes as if to push them back inside his tear ducts.

"So?" Derek catches Spencer's hands off his face, "She's been in surgery for thirty minutes. Her heart started beating again, and it had been for thirty minutes. She's fighting, man. At least fight with her before you wallow like a ninny."

"Morgan," Aaron warns but silently agrees.

You're fighting for your life, so they should, too.

You're not ready to go.

You don't want to go.

Spencer nods and wipes his face. He sniffs and takes a deep breath. He glances at the door to the operating room like he has x-ray vision, "Don't go."

reid masterlist | masterlist

[saltofmercury]

Sentimental

Pairing: Jason Todd x f!reader

Author's note: Writing feels so good!!! I'm so happy to be writing again :)

Summary: Jason holds onto things that make him emotional. That doesn’t make him emotional.

*

Jason Todd would never call himself emotional.

He prefers the term sentimental. Sentimental is what surrounds the items in his trinket box. There’s not many items inside —some personal information mostly. A death certificate, a watch, and more recently items from you. A scrunchie, a broken keychain, and notes.

He had noticed the bracelets, gold and silver trinkets decorating your arm, then something not as shiny, the weird black ribbon scrunchie. The scrunchie you never gave it to him.

He watched as you pushed your hair back, your hands guiding the elastic weaving through your hair, sitting on top of your head.

What was left was the red indent on your wrist. You seemed to pay no attention to it, but he did not like the idea of something leaving a mark on you. Red and indented. The angry mark kept being shown, often closed off by your other bracelets.

“Does this hurt?” He asked you later at night wondering how it hadn’t gone down since the afternoon. 

“No, I get these all the time.” You say, carefully gauging his reaction.

“But I don’t like the impression it leaves you with.” He scowled, rubbing his thumb along the indent. 

Impressed by the mark it did leave—He took the scrunchie the next day, wearing it for a total of five hours. He had come back to the apartment you two shared, showing you the indent of his own. Now he keeps your scrunchie on his arm, willing to hold it for you. You never really take it back though, you just let him hold onto it. Seeing how he fidgets and snaps it on his own. He doesn’t give it back either.

Sentimental over the keychain you bought him for the key to your apartment. A big step in your relationship, where he had been earning your trust, giving you space, waiting for you to take the next step — you just wanted some peace of mind from him entering through the balcony window.

It had been a small joke between you guys about how you wish you had a pocket sized “him” so you could tell him at any moment anything that happened during your work day.

It prompted the idea to make him into a Lego.

You carefully selected the top, bottom, and head, and even added a red cap on top as an inside joke for his mask.

Jason could hardly respond. It leaves him tongue tied at the little figurine placed in his hand. Your smile beaming at him, then, expressionless when he doesn’t say anything. 

“You don’t like it?” You pout, hoping you didn’t cause offense.

He stares back at you intensely, suddenly breathless.

“I love it.”

He does wish he were more careful with it. After falling from a two story building, he had landed on it causing the little figurine to crack into multiple pieces. He would have taken a dislocated shoulder over the broken keychain.

“You fell on it?” you ask, seeing it cracked in multiple pieces in your hands.

“The guy snuck up on me and kicked me off the ledge.”

“And you fell … on it? Didn’t that hurt?” You peer up from your hands concerned he’s not fused with any other Lego pieces on his leg.

He tries to glue it back together, seeing the irony in himself in the Lego pieces. It frustrates him, he places it in a bag and puts it away in the box. He just starts to keep the key around his neck. The next day he gets surprised by the different figurine.

“Don’t land on this one ok?” You smile up at him.

Sentimental over every note you’ve ever written him— which causes his small box to overflow with colors of

“I’ll be back with dinner”

“went to the market” 

“Ice cream in the freezer!”

And all the “I love you’s see you later”

Scribbled in your writing on blue, white, pink, and yellow scraps of paper, post-its, and notepads. 

What seemed like a small note was a reminder to him that someone does come back for him. 

Someone is there for him.

So no, Jason Todd isn’t emotional. He’s just sentimental.

[woodenanemone]

choso was a full-grown man.

a man who takes cares of his brothers, is employed, and pays his taxes. a man who can share his ideas and his thoughts with professionalism and skill. a man who can admit when he’s wrong, who can let his resentment go for the better.

so imagine his confusion when he acts like nothing but a developing teenager when you were around him.

he truly felt like his body had relapsed back to puberty. he can’t control his sweat around you, he’s switched his deodorant three times before finding something long lasting enough (although he barely spends more than a couple hours around you a day, if even that, and yet he still manages to produce so much sweat—). he can barely make eye contact with you without feeling his face grow hot (shooting down his neck, goodness, he has to fan at his face soon or he'll start sweating and he just showered for you—), a tremble in his hands, a trip in his words. the sentences that so ridiculously tumble out of his mouth are ineligible and humiliating, as if he forgot every single word he’s ever learned.

he talks to himself often.

whether it’s him walking on the way back home from your hangout, or when he’s alone at work, choso talks to himself. he walks alone and speaks your name out loud, a small awkward smile on his lips (even hearing the splendid name from his own throat dusts his cheeks pink.). he rants and analyzes how physically impossible it was for anyone to be as lovely as you. frustrated muttered outbursts of his incompetence around you. questions about if he was normal, if what he was feeling was normal (he concluded no.). these thoughts are too much to be confined within his mind, overflowing so much at the seams, he was afraid he would accidentally speak them aloud to you. so, he verbally lets them out when he’s alone, before his mouth gets the best of him. he never feels further from sanity when he talks to himself. but since it’s about you, well… it makes him feel better pretty quickly.

he writes about you.

talking to himself and thinking about you only helped him so much. he still feels a nervousness in his chest, needing to convey these feelings in some other form. so, he started scribbling little notes about you on napkins at restaurants and cafes, soon throwing them away; but he soon garners a deep hatred for this. anything that reminds him of you, anything at all, whether it be from his own hand or out in the world, has to be cherished. If not, what sort of insult is it to you? so, he buys a notebook. it’s a small one, black and dull, pocket sized so he can write about you whenever he so pleases. the first few entries are sloppy and messy, hurried so he could get the thought out before it slips his mind. but he soon grew a hatred for this as well. even thoughts written about you must be written with such a delicacy and care, even though you’ll never see it.

012324

When you look at me,

I forget that this world is capable of hatred and misery.

How could a being so light and pure,

Exist next to a miserable soul such as I?

the more i write about choso the less i feel i should be walking the streets as a free citizen. put me in a padded room, im not okay

[chiscaralight]

me and my roomie!

your roommate is obsessed with you! but you're hiding your own dirty little secret.

includes: nsfw! scara, tartaglia and bonus character separately, weird roommate behavior, use of their real names, weird reader behavior, tartaglia's is pretty long, fingering, begging, somno(?), pillow humping, missed tags. the bonus isn't as long as the other ones!

a/n: this was so much fun to write ! suzu helped me decide who to write for so the bonus at the end is dedicated to @hitomisuzuya !!

scaramouche!

"hey, i can't find one of my shirts can I go check your room for it?"

you give him a thumbs up as he makes his way to your door. now, he wasn't entirely lying, he was actually missing a couple of shirts! but, he knows you do all your laundry over the weekend, so your basket should be overflowing with dirty clothes by now. he does a quick check of the hall once more before shutting the door to your room. he's beelining straight for your pile of laundry. he starts rummaging through the trash like a raccoon but finally finds what he's searching for.

the cute panties you wear! the pair he'd stolen a week prior had lost your scent a while ago and it was starting to drive him crazy. he raises the newly acquired pair to his nose and he's twitching in his pants. but this isn't the place for that! it would be kinda hard to explain what was going on if you saw him bent over your laundry with a raging hard-on. so he quickly throws the old pair in and covers it up with the rest of your clothes. he shoves the new pair deep in his pocket before walking back to the living room, loosely announcing he didn't find it and heading for the kitchen.

the house is quiet when scara comes back. too quiet. his last class had been canceled, but you were free the entire day. so where were you? the house is usually filled with sounds of you doing something to keep yourself occupied.

it's the sounds that catch him first. they're..moans? they sound hushed, but they're definitely coming from his room. he peers through the crack in the door and the sight is truly one to behold.

there you are, small fingers tugging at your nipples as you roll your hips against the pillow, his pillow. that shirt he went to "search for" in your room? bunched up between your pretty lips as you try to stifle your whines. he's drinking up the scene, trying to etch this beautiful moment into his mind as hard as possible before clearing his throat.

his arms are folded and he's leaning against the doorpost. the corner of his lips twitch up as your eyes meet his. you're like a deer caught in headlights and his smile only gets bigger as you open your mouth to speak and nothing comes out.

"well, i see where my shirt went."

"open," he commands as his hand grips your jaw. the heavy drop of saliva hits your lolled-out tongue before you swallow. he hums as he's sliding his leaking cock back into your warmth. eye rolling back into your head, you're gripping onto the sheets tightly as he starts ramming into you.

"you slut, fuck, riding my pillow like that, hm?"

the only response he gets is the soft cry of his name. every whine, every cry, and every moan just fuels him further as his hips connect with yours. his hands are pressing your knees to your chest so he can have the best view of your cunt.

"the minute my head hit the pillow, i would've known. you know why?"

you weakly motion toward his bedside table. specifically the drawer where he keeps his... mementos of you. it should've set him off how quickly you knew what he was talking about, but all you could feel was the way he twitched against your most sensitive spots. you're even going through his stuff now? it's just so fun to think about. how you'd peek over your shoulder at the door to make sure he wasn't coming; how your eyes widened when you spotted the contents of the drawer. did you run away right then? or did you press your thighs together because you finally know what he really is.

but you've done such a good job so far of keeping it quiet! so good. that he's going to breed you as a reward for how nasty you are! you're drooling so much at the thought! your hands are dragging one of his towards your throat as you beg him to fill you up.

"kuni, please-, wanna feel you so bad. wanna feel all of you!"

and it's those words that send him over the edge, spilling deep into you as he groans deep into your skin. that action sends you over, as you cum around his still sheathed cock. both of you are panting and burnt out, but he still finds the energy to trap you in a heavy kiss. you whine into his lips in pure contentment.

tartaglia!

ajax is the best roommate! he's funny, caring, and knows how to take care of the house really well. hell, he's paying for all the groceries and at some point he even started paying your portion of the rent!

to top it all off, hes so so sweet! he's planning movie nights, finding games for you two to play and helping you out in the kitchen as you make dinner. his big arms wrap around you as you doze off against his body while you favorite sitcom is playing in the background.

it's too bad it's all just a front though, because in all reality he's waiting for the perfect time to pin you down and fuck you so hard like he's been dreaming of all these months! he can't count how many times he's pressed his ear to the thin wall that divides your room as he pumps his cock to the sound of your voice as you talk to your friend over the phone. the actual conversation is none of his concern; just the way you speak, the way your voice drips out is tugging his orgasm out of him at full speed.

or the way you tempt him without even knowing it. those shorts you wear around the house that just barely cover the curve of your ass? he has to physically restrain himself from pressing you onto his crotch. with your nipples poking through the lightly colored tank top on your body. he's practically gawking at you shamelessly until you turn your attention back to him and he's giving you that almost genuine smile one more time.

he's scrolling through all the pictures he'd taken of you sleeping when the knock at the door whips him out of his trance. the sound had scared him so hard he squeezed his eyes shut! of course it was you. who else would be at his door at this hour? he refuses to answer as you call out his name through the wood. the door slowly opens anyways. he's asleep, you think to yourself as you pad across the floor towards the bed.

it's not new for you to crawl between his sheets like this. on the nights when you're feeling not the best, he always opens his arms (and blankets) to you! so it should be no different now that he's 'asleep'. he can feel your back press against his chest as you try your best not to wake him. he pretends to groan and does his own shifting around until his nose is nestled in your neck and one of his hands is around your waist while the other is laid on your hip.

everything is still for a bit. he savors the warmth emitting from your body and the scent of the shampoo you use overcomes his senses. until you start shifting around. you're probably just trying to get comfortable, but it's been going on for minutes and he's starting to get a little riled up. it seems almost calculated as you push back against him. he's not sure what to make of the sigh that leaves you.

your hand lightly clasps his and you guide it downwards. this can't be real. his body is so stiff right now, but he doesn't want to move in case you stop! with just a little bit of struggling, you managed to get his hand into your underwear. your hand finds the top of his as you move his fingers slightly further down. you're soaking wet, using the pads of his fingers to brush against your clit a few times.

your fingers are moving down softly once again as you push them into your hole. your breath hitches and you feel so good, so soft around his fingers. you're moving them in and out now, teeth sinking into the plush of your bottom lip. but you can only get them in so far before your own fingers are getting in the way.

this is short-lived as tartaglia harshly curls his fingers into you. you're gasping out an airy "ajax!" as he draws you farther into his body with his other arm.

"if you wanted my help, you could've just asked, cutie."

the way his voice is low in your ear makes you clamp around his digits as he finger fucks you. his lips are on your neck now, dutifully marking you up as you squirm against his body. he's grinding into you from the back as he finds that spot that has you arching and moaning out even louder. he's prodding at that spot now and your body starts to shake. the sensation of feeling you cum all over his hand has him spiraling and cumming into his own shorts. you're starting to relax against his chest once more, but he's turning you onto your front with his hard cock pressing against your ass. you gasp at how hard he is, and he takes the opportunity to slip the fingers the fingers that were in you into your mouth. he smiles as you start to suck on them. he's going to have so much fun with you tonight.

BONUS: aventurine!

another nightmare has him sitting up in his bed. he's reaching over to grab his water bottle because of how dry his throat is, but it's empty. he groans as he throws the covers off of him. his eyes widen as he hits the bottom of the staircase. there you are, fingers rubbing messy circles on your clit as your legs are spread across the back of the living room couch. you purr his name, his real name out so beautifully as your eyes are squeezed shut, lost in your chase for pleasure.

"enjoying yourself, doll?"

the voice has you shooting up from the chair. there aventurine stood, one hand on his hip, bottle in the other as he smiled slyly at you. his messy hair signified that he'd just woken up, but he still looked as beautiful as ever. he raises his hands up.

"don't let me stop your fun! keep going."

is all he says as he starts to make his way towards the kitchen. you meekly call out his name and he stops in his tracks, craning his head to the side to peer at you once more.

"help, please?"

his mouth may have been dry, but yours definitely wasn't. you're slobbering all over his length, the nasty sounds coming from you causing him to moan. as much as he loves the warmth of your mouth, he'd much rather experience your cunt. so he's pulling you off of him and signaling you to straddle him.

the stretch is ungodly as you slide fully down onto him. you're bending over to catch his lips in a wet kiss as his hands find the fat of your hips. you're rolling them now, nails raking over the exposed expanse of his chest as he fucks up into you slowly.

he's always hated his nightmares with a fiery passion, but he's willing to let this one go just for tonight.

[sweetangelgirl7]

𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝜗𝜚 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐭 & 𝐜𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐨

𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 after a fresh new start, away from your toxic past, you’re met with the boy next door — your ex boyfriend’s brother.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: THREESOME, unprotected, creampie, oral (male & female receiving), and more filth

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 8.1k!

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: golden rubbers in these denim pockets 🎧 hiii loves! this fic is completely inspired by the song and mv for “she” by tyler the creator & frank ocean (without all the creepy stuff). i love this song sm, the first half of the mv is the overall vibe for this one. this may be one of my favorites, it’s definitely a little long but it’s SMUTTY, so enjoy!

squeezing through the boxes piled high in the back of the moving truck, you sifted through endless amounts of cardboard trying to find the right ones holding your things. finally getting your hands on one, you managed to pull the box, that seemingly weighed a thousand pounds, between your arms, carrying it carefully down the ramp to the street in front of the new house.

you didn’t want to move, no one ever really wants to move away from their childhood home, but it was inevitable. a fresh new start never hurt anyone, anyways. after all, it was what you desperately needed after these last few months.

you struggled to hold the oversized box between your arms, overflowing with all the useless things you still held onto. the weight of the box began to slip between your perspiring arms before you finally gave up, setting it down on the pavement. standing up straight to stretch your back after nearly pulling a muscle, you glanced down the empty street that you now called home.

the houses were lined up perfectly, all unique in their own way yet perfectly blending together. your house was at the end of the street, sitting on the right side of the cul-de-sac. looking across the way, your eyes raked over the houses circling the street as a burst of noise caused your attention to land on the one across the street, right in front of your own.

stumbling out of the front door was a group of three boys as the sound of their teasing and laughing amongst each other filled the silent street. while two of the boys made their way to the car parked in the driveway, you watched as the the other was still locking the door behind him.

finally snapping out it — not wanting to stare and make an awful first impression on your new neighbor, you attempted to pick the box back up between your arms as you lifted it from the ground.

standing up straight once more, your gaze locked onto the brunette boy across the street as he finally turned away from the door, revealing a face you knew all too well — the face that broke your heart, time and time again. the face you had hoped to leave behind, one of few the reasons you had found solace in moving away.

your heart dropped to your stomach in sync with the box crashing to the street, the sharp sound of glass shattering inside breaking the sudden silence. "fuck" you whispered under your breath, scrambling to retrieve the fallen box as your eyes dropped instantly to the ground.

“everything alright?” a voice shouted from across the street, although, it was a voice you weren’t familiar with. the other two boys were already inside of the car, waiting for the other, so you automatically attached it to the brunette.

you couldn’t gather the courage to look up, nor did you want to look up. how was this even possible? the boy you finally managed to leave weeks ago, with absolutely no contact, had somehow found you standing right before him once again. what are the odds, just your fuckin’ luck, huh?

you couldn’t speak, pretending to attend to the broken items inside of the open box as you frantically attempted to conceal your face and look busy, acting as if you didn’t hear his voice.

“need a hand?” he asked again, although his voice was nearly right in front of you now as you watched his shoes walk into your view of the pavement.

“i’m good” you mumbled, your eyes still glued to the ground as you miserably attempted to find any shred of strength left to pick the box back up. god, how pathetic you probably looked.

crouching on his knees, he reached down to pick up the box before you with ease. his arms wrapped completely around the box, you managed to catch a quick glimpse of the tattoos peeking out from beneath the sleeve of his crewneck that hiked up his forearms.

now you were left even more confused — unless he’d hit the tattoo shop the second after you broke up, there was no possible way it was chris. was it? although, you weren’t wearing your glasses. maybe it wasn’t chris, you thought, looking for any excuse to just dismiss it as your imagination deceiving you.

“i got you, no worries” he reassured as he stood in front you still crouched down on your knees. as right now would be the perfect time to stand up — you couldn’t, you were too afraid to look him in the eyes.

“everything good down there?” he chuckled sarcastically after a moment, looking down at you as your hair fell over your face to conceal your features. you managed to let a nervous laugh roll off your lips as there was absolutely nothing else left to say or do to get out of this.

standing up, you nervously tucked your hair behind your ears as your eyes trailed up his lower half and onto the oversized box snuggled between his arms. you nearly flinched waiting for one of chris’ snarky comments but it remained silent as the air hung still

why hasn’t he said anything by now?

surely, he would have said something by now, anything.

finally gathering the courage to fully look up at his face, your eyes trailed over his features in slight relief and utter confusion as you scanned over every last detail. he looked so much like chris, yet nothing like him at all — at the same time.

your lips were cracked open in hesitation as you stumbled to find the words, looking between his eyes as he raised his eyebrows with a smirk. “what?” he chuckled again, flashing his teeth while laughing at your uncertainty as the smile lines deepened in his cheeks — he was so handsome, in different ways than chris.

“something in my teeth?” he teased, licking his tongue flat against the top row of his teeth as you shook your head through a laugh.

“no” you smiled as he had your complete undivided attention now, your gaze completely fixed on him and every little detail that created his pretty face. “you just look familiar ‘s all.” you shook your head, knowing good and well that he looked much more than just ‘familiar.’

he nodded his head, shifting the weight of the box between his arms. “i get that a lot.” he pursed his lips before hiking his knee up under the box to hold it still as he held his hand out for you. “matthew” he smiled.

matthew.

for the months you were together, chris never mentioned a matthew. neither did he mention having siblings, yet alone any who looked nearly identical to him. maybe he was just a cousin with insanely strong genes in the family. although, thinking back on it, he never really wanted to talk about his personal life at all.

“nice to meet you, mathew” you smiled after briefly introducing yourself, reciprocating the handshake with a stiff hand.

"want me to take this inside?" he asked, his grip on your hand lingering longer than any usual handshake.

𝜗𝜚

a flash of lightning briefly illuminated your room through the curtains as you found yourself sitting on the boy next door’s lap. your legs straddled matt’s as he lay beneath you, his head near the foot of your bed. leaning forward, you slowly trailed your hands up and down the fabric of the white tank covering his chest.

you finally managed to have the house to yourself, inviting him over rather than sneaking out through the window for the past couple of nights.

looking down at matt lying against your pink bedding, you trailed your fingers across his jaw as he stared up at you. you didn’t know how to feel about this whole situation and you definitely didn’t know how to bring up the thing that had been eating at you since you first met — the “thing” being chris. however, you didn’t let those thoughts linger long as matt had quickly found his way between your sheets since then.

“what’s a matter princess?” matt asked, tracing his ringed fingers over your thighs as his eyebrows furrowed, looking up at you in the dim light of your room.

shaking your head, you managed to force a smile as you brushed the messy curls away from his eyes. “nothing” you pulled the fake smile farther up your lips, lying through your teeth. “just feeling kinda down tonight.” you lied, again, as you rested your back against his knees up behind you.

sitting up on his elbows, a frown of concern tugged at matt’s face as he held his hand steady on your thigh. “wanna talk about it?” he asked before you could shake your head, that same fake smile returning to your face again.

“no, it’s okay.” you whispered as matt nodded his head. leaning forward to grab his face, you pulled him into a brief kiss to smooth over the moment.

shifting his right hand beneath your weight, he shoved it into the pocket of his jeans. slipping a golden wrapper between his fingers out from the denim, matt’s lips quipped into a smirk as he pulled away from your lips to display it between your faces.

“maybe this’ll cheer you up?” he teased as a real smile finally spread across your face, playfully raising your eyebrows.

“i guess we’ll have to find out” your smile twisted into a smirk as you gently pushed his hand away, pressing your lips into his as you both smiled against eachother.

inching back on his lap, matt fiddled with his belt buckle before tugging his jeans and boxers down with one movement. taking his cock beneath his hand, he lightly pumped himself with a closed fist, tearing the golden wrapper in the other hand between his teeth.

crawling back against the headboard, you watched as matt sat up, rolling the condom down his length, the latex rubber laminating his veiny pink cock. you couldn’t stop yourself from comparing him and chris for the past few days, in everything he did, from his sweet mannerisms, all the way down to his cock.

the feeling of matt’s touch pulled you from your thoughts as his fingers trailed up your skin. spreading your legs for you, he situated himself between your thighs as he stood on his knees. wrapping a hand around your upper thigh, he tugged at the hem of your shorts. “take these off f’me, yeah, pretty girl?” he asked gently. in this case, chris would have already ripped them off your body the second you walked into the room.

nodding your head, you obeyed with a smile and pulled the pink cheetah print shorts down your thighs. the sound of rolling thunder echoed through your room as matt watched you, his hand reaching forward to hold your jaw as he leaned forward on the other hand to press a kiss against your lips.

pumping his hand up and down his cock, he pulled away slightly to look back and forth between your eyes “ready?” he smiled against your lips as you nodded back, taking his stubbled jaw between your fingertips. a gasp rolled off your lips as matt already sunk his cock between your folds with the slightest hint of approval.

your walls swallowed his dick entirely, slowly bottoming out as he let a groan out. “lay down for me” matt groaned as you followed his instructions, sinking down from against the headboard as you lay your back down on the cool pink sheets. he hissed slightly at your change in position as his hand gripped the headboard, adjusting to the newfound tightness around his cock.

“so fuckin’ tight” he moaned through gritted teeth, starting slow as he pumped in and out, his fingers gripping down harder on the headboard with the feeling. your head rolled back on the pillows as you watched his hips crash into you, holding your weight on your elbows as you watched him.

sex with him was almost the complete opposite than with chris. while they were both fantastic in their own ways, it was different with matt. it was sweet — he was rough yet caring and gentle, making sure he’d do everything in his power to make you feel good.

pressing his hand down on your lower stomach, he began to drive his cock harder between your walls as you didn’t bother to suppress your moans anymore.

looking up at him through hooded lids, the occasional flash of lightning through the window illuminated his concentrated features. reaching forward to grab the chain laying on his chest, matt’s gaze pulled up to the window above your bed as bright headlights cut through the blinds.

“what the fuck” he groaned out, slightly narrowing his eyes as he looked through the partially open blinds, casting a shadow on his face.

“what’s wrong?” you sat up as your expression slightly dropped, the sound of thunder filling the silence as you watched him with concern. matt’s eyes were still glued on the window as he reached forward to peek through the blinds, looking out through the rain pouring down outside.

“there’s someone out there” he slightly crouched down, pulling out with a hiss as he tugged his jeans back up swiftly over his waist, adjusting the belt hanging limp between the denim loops.

your stomach churned at his words, assuming it was your dad as you sat up quickly. fumbling to pull your shorts back on, you sat up completely and dug your knees into the bed to look out the window.

reaching over to grab your glasses from the bedside table, you quickly pulled them over your eyes as you pulled the blinds back. studying the car parked in your driveway, the headlights nearly blinded you. although, you knew that car from anywhere. with the sight of your face in the window, the headlights dimmed out to reveal chris sitting in the driver’s seat followed by a conveniently timed flash of lighting.

“shit” you mumbled beneath your breath, immediately closing the blinds as your heart sunk in your chest. you didn’t know what to be more afraid of in the moment — chris sitting in front of your house or having to explain to matt, who was just inside of you seconds ago.

“shit, shit” you repeatedly groaned to yourself, folding your glasses as you tossed them back on the side table, quickly standing up from the bed.

“was that my fuckin’ brother?” matt’s eyebrows furrowed with confusion and a hint of anger as he made his way towards your bedroom door.

“brother?” you shot back, your heart racing even faster now. although you weren’t surprised, what else did you expect? of course they were brothers, they shared nearly the exact same face.

“yeah, chris” he groaned out, just hearing matt say his name made you sick to your stomach. “i think he got the wrong house” he mumbled, taking the door knob between his hands before you practically jumped in front of him in attempt to stop him, trying to usher him towards your closet.

“what? no” you shouted through a whisper “i think it’s my dad” you shook your head as you slid the mirror door open, desperately trying to shove matt inside. “go” you ordered as he nodded, gently shoving him behind the hanging clothes you had lined up against the wall.

you adjusted the white tank top on your chest, pulling it down as you stumbled out of your door and into the living room. your mind raced as fast as your heart, beating a million times a minute. maybe he didn’t see you. although, knowing chris — he wasn’t gonna leave without a fight, whether he knew you were home or not. you couldn’t help but wonder how the fuck he found your address? you lived on the complete opposite side of town and it had been weeks.

peeking through the stained glass window of the door, the shadow of his car was still parked in the driveway. fuck.

taking your bottom lip between your teeth, you sat hiding against the front door before finally pulling it open after a minute. standing in the door frame, you looked over chris sitting in his car as you could see his expression change through the rain pouring down on the windshield. wearing that stupid smirk that somehow won you over everytime, but not this time.

stepping forward under the porch, you left the light off as he jogged out of the car through the rain and under the cover of the deck.

“what the fuck, chris?” you shouted over the sound of the storm, crossing your arms beneath your chest. “i block your number and you resort to stalking?” you shouted louder, now out of anger.

“you weren’t answering my calls sweetheart” he tugged a smirk onto his lips, pulling the hood from over his head as he now crossed his own arms. you scanned over his face as a knot formed in your stomach, knowing his brother was currently hiding in your bedroom closet.

“what do you want?” you spat, hoping he would just go away as he continued to do the exact opposite. “how did you even find my address anyway?” you continued, glancing over at the light cracking through your bedroom window.

“aren’t gonna invite me in? i brought a housewarming gift?” the smirk on his lips pulled up farther as he began to step toward the front door before you could move to the side to block his way.

“no” you shouted, pressing your hands against his chest as he sarcastically raised his eyebrows in shock, glancing down at your arms.

“is that anyway to talk to a guest?” he teased, acting surprised, as he grabbed your wrists, pulling your arms down before he continued to make his way inside.

rolling your eyes, you tried to act quickly, trying your hardest to stop him from getting inside as he stepped past you and into the living room.

“i swear to god i’ll call the cops.” you threatened with your voice low, not wanting matt to hear you just on the other side of the wall.

“nice place” he said sarcastically, his eyes roaming the house as he stopped in his tracks to turn to you. “where’s your room at?” he questioned with a chuckle, crossing his arms once again as he looked down the doors lining the hallway.

“jesus, chris — just leave, please.” you nearly begged, taking his forearm between your hands as you tried to pull his weight towards the front door.

his gaze landed on the door cracked open, the light of your lamp spilling through as a smile pulled onto his lips “damn, relax kid, is your room dirty or somethin?” he shook his head as he tugged away from your grip, beginning to walk towards your bedroom. “you know i don’t care” he continued to tease, taking the door knob between his hand.

“no, chris, please just go.” you cried out, a little too loud for comfort as you continued to fight against his movements.

standing in front of your door, chris pushed it back as his eyes immediately widened upon looking inside. letting a bitter yet amused laugh escape past his lips, he turned to face you briefly as he looked back into your bedroom.

“m’i interrupting something?” he scoffed, looking back and forth between you and your bedroom as you pushed past him, freezing beneath the door frame as you looked over matt sitting at the foot of your bed.

“matt” you mouthed his name although your voice fell silent, the expression on your face speaking all the words that you couldn’t manage to get out. you stepped back, bumping into chris’ chest behind you as he continued to chuckle out of disbelief. a mix of irritation, resentment and enjoyment rung in the sound of his laughter.

“nuh uh” chris gripped his hands firmly around your hips as he felt your back press against him, the ball of your heel accidentally digging into his sneaker.

matt sat in silence, his jaw clenching at the sight of chris’ hands wrapped around you as he seemingly connected all of the dots by now. chris pushed your hips forward as you stumbled into the room, slamming the door shut behind him to leave the three of you in a heated silence.

you couldn’t look either of them in the eyes, between the anger and disappointment in matt’s face or the smug, possessive, envy in chris’ expression. matt stood up from your bed, beginning to move towards your door as he shoved past chris’ shoulder on the way out.

“wait” you groaned out to matt, shaking your head as you stepped forward before being met with chris’ solid chest as he moved in front of you.

“hold up, matt” he mumbled, glancing quickly over his shoulder as matt stopped before the door, his back still turned to both of you.

“what?” he shot back, as this was the first time they’d actually spoken to each other in over a year. your eyebrows knit together as you looked from matt up to chris, his eyes now full of mischief.

chris put a hand on your hip as he guided your body weight to the side, causing you to fall back on the foot of the bed. crossing his arms over his chest, you could practically see the gears turning in his head.

“c’mere” chris nodded his head to motion his brother in his direction as he looked back at matt, who was now looking over at him past his shoulder.

matt’s face scrunched up in confusion and annoyance as he was far past fed up with the situation. “bro what do you want?” he spat, again, his face scrunching farther up as his eyebrows furrowed together, turning to face him.

“she wants both of us” chris scoffed through a laugh, looking him in the eyes as they were both ignoring you now. “don’t you sweetheart” chris narrowed his eyes and scrunched his nose up snarkily as he briefly turned to acknowledge you. you couldn’t speak as a weight crushed over your chest, your eyes flickering between chris and matt.

you loved chris. despite the arguments and possessiveness that once filled your relationship — you were drawn to the fire, even after burning yourself countless of times over.

however, you hit it off with matt almost instantly. in the weeks you had known him, he was so incredibly attentive and sweet — you two clicked into place like the final puzzle piece.

although you couldn’t physically say it, you did want both of them and their polar opposite elements.

“why not give ‘er both of us” chris shrugged, although he was confident in his words. your eyes shot back up to chris, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. chris couldn’t fathom the idea of sharing you, however, he knew that you weren’t his to claim anymore.

“what?” your jaw fell slack, inching farther back on the bed as your eyes were still glued on chris, who was ignoring you, staring back at matt now.

shaking his head through a laugh, chris walked over to the side of your bed, climbing onto the mattress behind you as he pressed a hand against your stomach, pulling your back into his chest.

your mouth still parted open as chris nearly forced your back against him, pushing your hair to the opposite side as he placed a kiss on your exposed shoulder. you were nearly frozen in your position, looking at matt as his fist clenched by his side, knuckles nearly turning white from the tension. the sound of his rings squeezing against his skin lingering in the silence.

“c’mon matt” chris nearly whined against your skin, his lips trailing up to the crook of your neck as his eyes were locked on matt’s across the room. matt’s face burned with anger as his eyes flickered to yours, doe eyed as your eyebrows drew together in a silent apologetic expression.

matt released the fist forming in his hand as he shook his head, scoffing before turning to face the door again “nah, man, whatever” he mumbled, beginning to walk out.

“matty” you called out softly, knowing that hearing you use that nickname made him weak in the knees. he closed his eyes briefly while biting the inside of his cheek, turning back to look at you once more as chris’ lips quipped up into a smirk against your skin.

holding your hand out for him, the glimmer of the dim lamp in your wide eyes only emphasized the innocent look on your face. shaking his head, matt gripped his fist together once more, also knowing that he couldn’t resist you.

hesitantly stepping towards you, matt took your hand beneath his as you pulled him into you with a soft smile. leaning forward he held his weight on one hand as you pulled him into a kiss, holding the side of his face as you caressed the stubble forming on his jaw. while the kiss was gentle, matt’s lips moved with anger as he grabbed the side of your neck firmly.

the smirk on chris’ face never left as he wrapped his hand around your lower half where your thighs and hips met, gripping tightly as he held you still, grazing his teeth down on the skin of your neck on the opposite side. groaning softly into matt’s mouth, you felt chris’ erection growing beneath your ass as you gently pushed your hips back to rub against him, causing him to hiss at the feeling.

“why didn’t you just tell me” matt whispered low against your lips, a hint of irritation in his tone. although, you didn’t even know the answer to his question as you chose to avoid it, hungrily crashing your lips together once more.

“are you two just gonna sit there and kiss all fuckin’ night or what?” chris groaned bitterly as he tugged the skin of your neck up between his teeth, blistering red as you winced at the painful pleasure.

matt shook his head in annoyance, slightly pulling back to shoot a glare at chris with his lips on your neck, hands around your hips as he chuckled quietly at matt’s reaction. “shut the fuck up” matt muttered quickly, connecting your lips once more as he kept his eyes on chris’ to get a rise out of him.

you felt chris’ grip get tighter as he clenched his jaw, nodding his head with another bitter chuckle while swiping his tongue against his teeth.

chris pulled away to wrap a hand around the side of your neck, pulling you back from matt’s lips followed by a soft gasp. “arms up” he groaned quietly into you ear as he reached around your waist to pull the fabric of your tank top up over your torso. raising your arms completely, he slipped it over your head and onto the floor to reveal your exposed chest.

leaning forward again, chris wrapped his arms beneath your underarms as he took both of your tits between his hands, gently rubbing at your nipples between his fingers. moaning quietly beneath your breath at the feeling, you sunk back between his spread legs and into his chest.

matt watched the interaction, still leaning forward on one hand with a tightened jaw — at this point, it became a competition between the two of them. crouching down on his knees, matt wrapped his ringed fingers around your thighs as he tugged your lower half forward on the edge of the bed, taking the fabric of your shorts between his hands as he pulled them down completely.

“there we go” chris chuckled quietly, watching matt as he seemingly lit a fire under his brother. pulling himself back, chris lazily took your hair between his hands as he used an old bracelet around his wrist to tie it up out of your face. connecting his fingers with your nipples again, you watched as matt pushed your legs up and knees back into your chest.

“so fuckin’ wet” matt mumbled, trailing his fingers flat against your folds as you squirmed at the feeling, moaning out as you hid your flustered features in the crook of chris’ neck behind you.

smirking at the sounds rolling off your tongue, matt leaned forward to press a kiss against your pussy coated with arousal. “matt” you groaned impatiently, reaching forward to lock your fingers into his hair.

“so needy, baby” matt chuckled quietly, looking up at chris as your eyes were squeezed shut against his larger frame. hearing matt call you that caused chris’ face to burn red with anger as he leaned forward, his face peering down at matt over your shoulder.

burying his face between your legs, matt wrapped his hands around your thighs to keep them spread as he swiped his tongue flat against your folds, eliciting a jagged moan from you as you desperately jutted your hips forward.

chris shook his head, knowing it should be him getting the reaction out of you as he had plenty of times before. completely wrapping his right hand around the front of your neck, he pulled your upper half towards his chest, moving his fingers up around your jaw as he forced your gaze to his face rather than down at matt.

messily connecting your lips, chris used his other hand to squeeze at your tit between his fingers. a wave of sensitivity rushed over your body at the feeling of matt’s tongue flush against your pussy and chris tugging at your nipples, unable to control the moans escaping past your lips.

“s’this what you wanted sweetheart?” chris grumbled against your lips, it had been months since you felt his touch, although this time around it felt like anger masked by lust. “my dick wasn’t enough so you fuck my brother?” he groans against your lips as you whined out at the feeling of matt dipping his tongue between your pussy, licking a stripe up towards your clit as your body squirmed at the sensitivity.

chris moved his free hand around your hips to hold you steady as his other was still wrapped tightly around your jaw while you kissed him, chris reciprocating the hunger in your movements.

as matt worked on your clit, the pleasure sent an overbearing chill down your spine, your hand still locked in his hair as you tugged harshly at the curls beneath your fingers. “hold still princess” matt groaned as he held onto your thighs tightly, the rings around his fingers digging into your skin.

chris smirked at matt’s words, knowing that the pleasure almost ached at this point as you wriggled beneath his hands.

while chris tended to fuck you rough, it was never out of ill intention — he would never wanna hurt you. he simply liked being dominant, although, he always wanted to make you feel equally good, if not more, at the same time. you two had a designated safe word for whenever you needed it and he was more than happy to stop the second you uttered that word. however, the jealousy that built in his system quickly turned into arousal as he watched you squirm between the two of them.

“yeah, princess, stay still for matt” chris groaned against your lips, slightly mocking matt’s tone as he’d never called you that before, his grip digging into your skin as he held you in place. matt’s eyebrows furrowed at his words, although he continued as this was the first time they had shared something in common for a long time: you.

“i c-can’t” you moaned out with a stutter through the sensation building in your stomach, finally speaking after minutes of silence. “oh my god” you groaned at the tender feeling of matt’s tongue against your clit, your legs beginning to shudder as matt held them in place.

“what’s wrong sweetheart?” matt began sweetly before letting a trail of saliva fall down his lips, spitting on your already soaking folds. “can’t handle both of us like you wanted?” he continued, his words hanging lustfully as your legs now fought against his hands.

“aht aht” chris pulled away, releasing his grip on your jaw as he reached both arms around your hips to hold your thighs spread open. matt glanced up at chris briefly as they soon realized they weren’t competing against each other anymore, rather working together. “keep goin’” chris muttered, nodding his head down at matt as he held your thighs open.

matt nodded as chris held you in place, one hand tugging onto matt’s hair as the other tightly gripped the fabric of chris’ shorts. with both hands free now, matt slipped the silver ring off his middle finger as he teasingly rubbed over your clit before pumping those same fingers between your walls.

you bucked your hips forward off the bed as your head rolled back onto chris’ shoulder, squeezing your eyes shut through a moan as matt’s fingers curled upwards. “that feel good baby?” chris groaned into your ear, his cock practically straining against your back as he watched your body shudder at the feeling.

nodding your head, you turned your face to look over at chris as you moved your hand up from his shorts and onto his face, holding his cheek between your palm. caressing his cheek, you pressed a warm kiss against his lips.

leaning forward once more, matt trailed his tongue up to your clit as he gently sucked between his lips, causing your body to tremble at the feeling, his fingers still working in and out deeper now. loud, jagged whines rolled off your lips, left and right, not knowing how much longer you could take it. “baby, i c-can’t” you whined against chris’ lips, not sure who you were talking to anymore at this point.

your thighs continued to jerk at the feeling of matt overworking your clit, your hand now grabbing a handful of chris’ curls, at this point they would have to restrain you if they kept going. “i’m gonna cum” you moaned, your head rolling down into the crook of chris’ neck as a smirk pulled onto his lips.

“what d’ya say? think she’s had enough?” chris asked, looking down at matt between your thighs as he pulled back to return the look, his chin soaked in your arousal, a smirk pulling at his face.

“nah” matt shook his head, deliberately slipping his finger deeper between your walls as your back arched off chris’ chest. “she wants both of us, we’ll give ‘er the full experience” matt laughed low, as desire had completely washed over him now.

chris’ eyebrows raised at his words, nodding in agreement with a laugh “alright ‘matty’ go ‘head” chris mocked your tone, spreading your legs farther apart for matt as you squeezed your eyes shut, your core also squeezing tightly as he continued to work against your clit.

“baby, please, i’m gonna cum, please” you moaned, your legs completely wrestling against chris’ hands as you tried to squeeze them around the sides of matt’s face. the feeling became unbearable as you felt yourself begin to slip. your back now arched completely off of chris’ chest, your hips digging farther back into the bed as you had finally reached your climax.

“atta girl” chris groaned into your ear, recognizing the way your face scrunched up when you finally came as he smoothed his hands over your aching thighs. your body sunk back into chris’ chest, breathing in and out heavily, wincing at the feeling of matt swiping his tongue upwards over the the cum leaking from between your folds. brushing the flyaways slicked with sweat against your forehead, chris placed a kiss against the side of your head as he held you. “relax” he drawled out a whisper, his arms now wrapped around your body.

looking up at you, matt peppered gentle kisses on your thighs as his eyes caught chris’ over your shoulder. “shhh” matt whispered, his breath hot against your skin as he comforted you. you kept your eyes shut, trying to catch your breath as you rested back against chris’ frame, the sound of your panting filled the room.

matt and chris practically spoke telepathically in the silence, reading each other’s mind through their eyes and expressions painted on each other’s face. “oh my god” you breathed out slowly, still sunk down beneath chris as matt dug his elbows forward into the foot of your bed, his hands wrapping around your hips as he pulled you towards him.

“you did so good” matt cooed, his thumbs rubbing up and down your skin as you sat up straight to look down at him, responding with a nod. chris rubbed your back in circular motions before sitting back on his elbows as you were still situated between his legs, watching and waiting for matt to sweet talk his way into making the next move.

“can you keep goin’ for us pretty girl?” matt asked gently, although chris already knew your limits as he waited for your response, matt’s hands still smoothing over your legs as you didn’t wanna give up now — nodding your head slowly as you tugged your bottom lip between your teeth. “good girl” chris sat up, both of their lips pulling into a smirk at your approval.

“get on your hands and knees” chris stood up off the bed now, the same demanding tone still lingering, months later, as you had heard those words from him plenty of times before. crawling towards the center of the bed, you dug the heels of your palms and knees into the mattress, waiting for either of their touch.

chris and matt stood at the end of the bed, arms crossed over their chests and eyes trailing over your figure on all fours in front of them. looking back over your shoulder, you heard them mumbling things quietly between each other as they decided how to go about it. “any day now” you teased with a giggle as both of their eyebrows raised identically at your tone.

“what was that?” chris asked, holding his finger behind his ear as he stepped closer to the bed, reaching out to smack his hand down against your ass, gripping the skin beneath his fingers. “the lip on this one” chris scoffed, a hint of his boston accent coming through as he glanced back at matt, knowing deep down he had missed that sassiness in your tone.

“take care of it” matt nodded his head towards you, as your head shot back over your other shoulder to look at matt, hoping your puppy dog eyes would somehow save you.

“nuh uh, don’t look at me like that” matt chuckled, walking towards the headboard as he held your cheek in his palm “too late now” he flashed a smile, gently patting his hand against your face.

you felt the mattress shift beneath you as chris dug his knees into the bed behind you. both of his hands palming at the skin of your ass before slapping his right hand against you again, rocking your body forward with the force. you softly hissed, your eyes closing immediately at the touch.

matt climbed onto the bed, taking your chin between his fingers as he pulled your jaw up “look at me sweetheart” he tugged at your chin, forcing you to look up at him with a nod.

“still on the pill kid?” chris asked, his hand smoothing up your back as he waited for your response. “mhm” you nodded, although the idea of you fucking anyone else, raw at that, still tinged his face red with jealousy. “good” he shook the thought from his head before smacking your ass again, making up for all the lost time as he began to pull his shorts down.

taking his cock between his hands, chris pumped his length a few times before slapping his tip between your ass. your body tensed at the feeling as he trailed himself down your pussy on display between your ass cheeks. teasingly rubbing himself against your folds, he lubricated himself in your arousal.

your eyes began to close as you waited for him to sink inside of you before matt tugged at your chin again “what’d i say?” he mumbled, forcing your eyes back open as you looked back up at him again. his free hand working on his belt buckle before pulling his jeans down, letting the denim pool around his knees as he held his cock straining bright pink in front of your face.

the sound of chris’ spitting came from behind you as he let a puddle of saliva build in his fingertips, lubricating himself even more as he found himself lining up with your entrance soon after. the room was silent as they mutually agreed to sink into you at the same time, matt’s hand locking on your ponytail as you wrapped your lips around his cock, pushing his hips forward into your mouth with a groan in response to the warmth.

chris used his free hand to spread your ass open farther, finally pushing his cock through your folds “jesus, forgot how fuckin’ tight you are” he hissed, his hands now grabbing onto your ass for leverage as your walls wrapped snugly around his dick.

your eyes remained up on matt’s face as his head slowly rolled back, groans escaping past his lips as your cheeks hollowed out around his cock. “that’s my girl” he moaned low, his chest rising and falling as he looked down at you again, his hand caressing your cheek. you held your weight on one hand, holding the base of his dick in the other as you pulled back to breath before chris could pound into you from behind, pushing your lips forward to gag down on matt’s cock again.

chris chuckled, his hand smoothing down your back as he smacked his free hand against your ass between thrusts. “can’t run that pretty mouth now, can you baby?” he teased, trailing his hand back down your ass to pull your weight back down on his cock. your eyes nearly rolled back in your head at the feeling, tears welling in your eyes as you tried not to gag again.

matt moved both of his hands behind your head as he sluggishly removed the bracelet loosely holding your hair back, grabbing all of your hair between his fingers to re-tie it up into a messy ponytail. keeping his hands rested at the back of your head, he used the force of chris’ thrust to bob your head back and forth on his dick. looking up at matt through tear laden eyelashes, his face fully concentrated as he stared back down at you wrapped around his cock. “pretty girl, takin’ both our dicks so well” he cooed, trailing his hand forward to rub the pad of his thumb against your cheek, biting at the inside of his cheek as he felt an orgasm inching closer in his stomach.

it felt like you couldn’t breath, although you weren’t gonna give up — not yet, as it also felt like a wave of pleasure nearly paralyzing your body as they both drove their hips into either ends of you. your cheeks were flushed red, your baby hairs slicking down to your forehead as your moans were suppressed by matt’s cock pulsing between your lips.

you felt the pressure building in your stomach as chris continued to fuck you from behind, the sound of his skin slapping against your ass as he pounded into you harder. he gripped onto your hips, guiding you back and forth on his cock “so quiet ma, isn’t this what you wanted?” chris teased, deliberately driving his hips harder into your ass to get a moan from you. you felt yourself gag again around matt’s cock, quickly raising your hand to hold his length as you pulled back to nod your head.

“i’m gonna fucking cum” you breathily choked over your words, matt’s dick pushing between your lips again as he grabbed your chin. “jus hold on princess, i’m almost there” he squeezed your face, using both of his hands now to cup your cheeks as he pulled your head down on his cock.

chris continued with the same force, screwing into you as his life depended on it. your hands and legs grew weak holding your weight up, knowing an orgasm would completely send your body over the edge.

“fuck, keep goin” matt groaned as his eyes squeezed shut, rolling his head back as he quickly pulled out soon after, shooting his hot load over your face as it covered your features. his stomach twitched along with his cock, making sure every drop coated your pretty face as he rode out the high.

dropping back on the bed, matt rested his back against the headboard, allowing you to breathe out heavily as matt finally pulled out. immediately your body fell forward, the side of your cheek smushing against matt’s thigh, trailing his fingers through your hair to pull the ponytail down as he was the first to tap out.

chris, on the other hand, showed no sign of stopping anytime soon as he fucked your face farther into matt’s thigh. “there we go pretty girl” chris groaned, as the sound of your moans now filling the room was music to his ears.

“you wanna cum for us?” matt asked, his fingers brushing the hair out of your face as he comforted you through the tender orgasm building in your stomach. you nodded your head over enthusiastically, eyes squeezed shut as you gripped matt’s hand tightly, your nails digging into his skin.

“c’mon mama, cum for me” chris groaned to himself under his breath, knowing you were close. his hips driving into you as he finally buried his cock far enough to hit your sweet spot, immediately pulling an orgasm from deep in your stomach as your back arched farther into the bed.

“fuck, chris” you whined out as he ripped the words from your mouth, squeezing matt’s hand as he now held you through your climax. chris’ face twisted into a smirk at your words, knowing your body like the back of his hand and just how much you could take — worked like a charm every time.

“atta girl, just like that” chris cooed through a groan, talking you through your orgasm as he was also nearing his own.

“you got it princess” matt whispered, his hand resting on the back of your head as your eyes burned with tears and remnants of cum in your eyelashes. thrusting one final time as he buried his cock deep between your folds, you felt his dick twitch inside of you as an immediate warmth filled your cunt. “fuck” chris drawled out another groan, his cock continuing to pulse as his cum finally coated your walls.

chris lazily pulled out as his dick fell limp against his thigh, his head rolled back in pure bliss while you were a mess, face down against matt’s thigh. you felt tears stream down your face as your body ached, your pussy bright red and raw.

“shhh baby, y’okay?” matt sunk down farther on the bed, his hands immediately wrapping around your face as he wiped away the tears and cum pooling near your eyes. you couldn’t even find the energy to nod your head, your eyes still shut as your stomach fell flat against the bed.

chris still catching his breath as he was the last to tap out, although that didn’t stop him from instantly aiding you in your recovery. quickly pulling his shorts on, he reached his hands down to soothe over the back of your tender thighs. “you did so good ma” he praised you, gently moving his hands beneath your hips as he turned you flat against your back so you could rest your head on the pillows.

“you okay?” matt asked again, his fingers caressing your cheek, both of them now looking down at you as chris used his shirt to clean the cum still lingering on your face. you nodded up at them, your eyes flickering back and forth as you were still slightly seeing stars above them.

laying down on either sides of your body, your skin stuck together with sweat, neither of them skipping over the aftercare as they trailed their hands over your body to soothe your sore muscles.

you three sat in silence, your bodies pressing against each other as you all caught your breath “so” you nearly squeaked out, clearing your throat, after remaining silent for a couple of minutes.

“are you guys like twins or?” you continued, looking up at them as a cheesy smile twisted onto your lips.

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: welp 🫣 this one is for my pookie @hearts4sturniolo we literally just met but i love her sm, anyways hope y’all enjoyed!

tags: @watercolorskyy @joemamaaa42069 @luvergirlgabby @hearts4sturniolo @chrizzpiecreme @dietcokenumberonefan @sofieeeeex @eyelovedher89 @mattslolita @luverboychris @x0x0bunny

[letorip]

kiss with a fist [ii]

"Blood sticks, sweat drips, break the lock if it don't fit, a kick in the teeth is good for some, a kiss with a fist is better than none"

===+++===

pairing: tara carpenter x reader

summary: you signed up to help tara with her stupid plan. not whatever the hell one would call this.

warnings: implied sex, use of alcohol, puking, arguing loudly and wrongly, curse words(?)

word count: 5.2k

A/N: sorry to make you wait so long, but here's the second part. there will probably be a third, so fear not, the story doesn't end here. i originally thought i would be able to just end it off right here, but it’s going kind of really well and i think a third or maybe even a fourth part is more reasonable

===+++===

===+++===

For almost the entire walk to the frat house, Tara didn't actually say much. It surprised you too, the way she just glanced around the city that passed as you walked and fiddled with her nails. It wasn't an uncomfortable silence, but you were so used to Tara having something to say that it made you speak instead.

"Wow, for once, you're speechless," you commented as you passed under a streetlight. Tara shot you a glare, shoving her hands into her jean pockets.

"Would it kill you to shut the hell up?"

“There we go, back to normal. Why are you being weird?”

“I’m not being weird,” she scoffed. “Mind your own business.”

"I'm just saying."

"Well don't say. Don't say."

===+++===

The party fucking sucked. It was quintessential college, with frat boys who attempted to yell over the loud music that rattled your eardrums. Coolers upon coolers of shitty, cheap beer sat against the far wall, and a crowd had gathered around them to pick off all the free alcohol they could. Maybe a year ago this would’ve been fun. Now you found yourself disenchanted with the ordeal.

Tara was off god knows where, doing god knows what, which you figured was the point of the arrangement anyway. You weren’t too concerned with tracking her down, especially if situation also presented itself as a pleasant bonus— not having to put up with her.

Chad had wandered out of the room when he saw you and Tara arrive together hand in hand, going deeper into the party without a word. He was usually the one you hung around with at these kinds of things, but he had been a sad little dog with his tail between his legs since you and Tara announced you were meant to be a few days before the party. It seemed some of your friends were still adjusting.

The immediate reaction after Tara said “soooo, we’re together,” was to laugh, like you two were doing a bit. It got less funny when they saw you both blankly staring back at them and then Tara grabbed your hand and held it up with a forced smile.

The whole group was going through a somewhat awkward seven stages of grief thing. Chad was avoiding you completely, Quinn was a bit annoyed you were off the market now after an egregious few months of hitting on you, and Ethan was the only one to be a bit normal, even though it was clear he too had a crush on Tara and was disappointed with the matter.

When Mindy had gotten over her disbelief, she dove right into an endless game of questions, only occasionally staved off by Anika. "So who confessed first?" had been one of the first ones, accompanied by a glint in her eye. Tara jumped in before you could even open your mouth, eager to answer.

"(Y/n) showed up on my porch, all sweaty and disgusting looking, just smelling so unbelievably bad it was overpowering-”

“I had been working out,” you rolled your eyes. “That’s why I was sweaty."

“Mhm, whatever. Anyways, apparently they were just being such an asshole because they were in love with me," Tara said, with a wide, shit-eating grin. "Right?"

You had to hide your glare behind your solo cup. "Mhm. I was just overflowing with it. I have so many things to say about you."

“All nice things,” Tara corrected.

“Yeah. That’s what I said.”

“Was it?”

“Uh huh.”

Mindy’s questions followed you everywhere she did. Who kissed who first? Who’s more cuddly? Have you guys slept together yet? They volleyed back and forth and you and Tara fought for the first word each time to pin it to the other with gleeful sadism. Of course, it was then flipped around once the next question came and you would huff in annoyance at the other for being an asshole.

It wasn’t as bad of an arrangement as you had dreaded. You only had to be couple-y when other people were watching you two interact, or when Sam would glare in suspicion. Hold hands a few times, smile, share a glance. Other than that, things stayed mostly the same. The group probably appreciated you both not acting head over heels for the other and you liked it because it meant you didn't have to pretend to like her.

Tara had a brazen way about her that made you roll your eyes. She never took no for an answer, had a teasing remark for anything, and always felt the need to be doing something. Other people seemed to find themselves charmed by it. Others, but not you. Never you.

The walk there had been about all she could take of your personality, and the moment after you two were seen together, she ditched you at the door and wandered off to the dance floor. After that you had lost track of her, and ended up splitting your time between the kitchen, the bathroom, and the front room, away from the crowd. Mindy found you there, tugging Anika along with her.

"Cut the bullshit," She said with an eye roll, sitting right down on the couch in front of you. Anika plopped down next to her. "There's no way in hell you got together with Tara."

You grinned, sipping your beer and partially using it to block your expression. "No, we're together. I really like her."

Mindy scoffed. "You're a terrible liar." Your cheeks warmed and you tilted your head to the side.

"We have to separate you two like warring chihuahuas every time we hang out together," Anika said. She leaned forward and narrowed her eyes in a study of your face. "You're not confessing your undying love."

"I did."

"You didn't!" Mindy said, and she threw up her arms.

"I did."

"You didn't," Anika snorted.

"I...," you looked at them both, "...are you guys going to snitch?"

"Snitch to who?" asked Mindy. Now they were both leaned in, like eager children around a campfire. You swallowed.

"Sam." Mindy blinked. Then she sat back.

"What the hell did Tara get you involved in?" she asked. As much as Sam was part of your group, it was known not to fuck with her, and that's exactly what Tara was making you do.

You frowned. If anyone was going to ruin the plan, it probably wouldn't be Mindy or Anika. "You can't tell Chad, but we're not actually together."

Anika raised her eyebrows and shot Mindy a glance. "That didn't take a lot of brain power to figure out." You shrugged.

"Well, we fooled Sam. Tara needs a fake partner so she can go to parties and see people and stuff. And, well, you know how Sam is about that stuff."

Mindy crossed her arms. "And you said sure?"

You shrugged. "I mean, I didn't really see why not. Plus, she was being super annoying about it. Showed up at my house. She was begging, almost."

"So, you what, took pity?" Anika asked, giving you a look. You rolled your eyes.

"Trust me, it's not because it's fun. She's way too annoying and she'd probably say the same thing about me."

Mindy frowned, looking out the doorway and into the booming party. "Chad wouldn't like it."

You sent her a worried look. "Please please please, don't tell Chad. I know he's upset by the whole thing, but Sam would literally kill me if she knew I was helping Tara run around town."

"I don't know...," she said. "I know Tara wants freedom, but this is kind of bullshit, (Y/n)."

"It won't be for long. She just wants to meet someone. When she does, it's over. Life goes back to normal."

"Do you guys have a target in mind, or something?" Anika asked, a bit amused.

"Not even a little a bit. It’s like, her second party ever,” you shrugged. “I don’t know if she’s really dead set on a person yet.”

“Well… she better figure it out soon.”

“Mhm.” You looked out the same glass door and into the booming party outside. Through the jumping crowd, you could see in the distance Tara, who was dancing with her eyes shut and a smile spread wide across her cheeks. She looked happy like that.

You took a swig of your beer.

===+++===

The boom of a fist on your door shook the thin walls of your apartment, and you jolted awake to hear three more hit the wood.

“OPEN UP (Y/N), NOW!”

Immediately, a headache washed over you and you groaned. You tried to smush your head into the pillow to make it go away but there were the banging fists again, and you sat up, letting your legs dangle off the edge.

“OPEN THE FUCK UP,” came the voice again, and you blinked. Oh shit. You knew that voice. You clambered to your feet and stumbled out your bedroom and down the hall in a dusty pair of shorts and shirt. “I’M NOT KIDDING! OPEN THE—”

You pulled the door open like a deer in headlights, seeing Sam seethe on the other side with her fist raised. Nostrils flared, forehead creased, eyes narrowed. She looked about ready to rip your head off.

“You,” she said, spitting the word. You flinched. “Where the fuck is Tara?!”

Shit shit shit shit shit. Had she not gone home the night before?? Things felt a little bit fuzzy still. You remembered grabbing another beer from Ethan and flopping down in an armchair, then another and another, and then maybe wandering home while the sun started to rise. Had you seriously lost track of the attempted murder victim on her first night out???

You blinked, already aware that your cheeks were a dusty pink. "I, uh... she, um..."

Her hands went to her hips, glaring at you expectantly. "Well?! Where the hell is my sister?!" When you were still staring like an idiot, she threw up her arms. "I fucking knew I shouldn't have trusted you with her! This is what I get"

You stared, feeling a lie (though probably a clunky one) come to your brain. "I think her phone must've died, but she just left."

Sam's eyebrows rose, but you weren't sure if it was in disbelief or even more rage. "What do you mean?"

"We, um," your eyes went to the floor, feeling her glare laser itself into you as you spoke. "We got super drunk last night at the party, and I brought her back here and we both fell asleep," you looked back up to see her giving your pyjamas a once over, nose wrinkled. You flushed. "No! No— we didn't do that. We just fell asleep."

Sam looked at you for a moment, then crossed her arms. "I waited all night for her, you know," she said.

You nodded. "I know. I'm so sorry, it won't happen again."

"It won't." Sam repeated. "When I don't hear from her for a whole night, you know what I assume happened, right? You know how that feels?"

You swallowed. "I do."

She sighed. "I'm really trying here. I know she doesn't want me worrying about her, and I know she wants freedom. So I'm trying, (Y/n). Don't make me regret it."

"I won't, Sam." It felt like a giant wedge in your throat, and you tried to smile at her but she continued to frown, and she turned around and walked off. The moment she was gone, you spun around and slammed the door. You dashed through your apartment, grabbing your phone off your nightstand and quickly pulling up her contact.

Little Shit (do not pick up). You pressed the button and put it up to your ear, wandering over to the nearby curtain and lifting it to look out onto the city. "Come on, come on," you pleaded aloud. "Fucking pick up, asshole."

After the third ring and a good prayer to god even though you weren't especially religious, it stopped ringing and you could hear her grumbling.

"Tara??" you rushed. "Tara, where are you?"

"Mmm," she groaned, "the hell do you want so early?"

You scoffed. "Tara it's almost noon." There was a pause on the other end of the line.

"What?"

"Uh huh," you grunted. "Your sister just almost ripped my door off it's fucking hinges because she doesn't know where you are. And you know what, neither do I!" There was some shuffling from her end, and then what sounded like running footsteps.

"I went home with this girl last night, I just woke up," she rushed. "Sam is going to kill me!"

"She almost killed me!" You almost yelled into the phone. Now that the worry had subsided you were left with anger. "She almost killed me because you wandered off and didn't go home."

"It's not like I meant to fall asleep," she argued back, and you could hear some talking in the background in faint voices. "I must've slept through my alarm— wait, what did you tell Sam?"

"That your phone died, and you were on your way home."

"WHAT?! (Y/n), this girl's apartment is at least fifteen to twenty minutes away," Tara said into the phone.

"Well it's not like I knew that, now is it?" you shot back, scratching your arm, "considering I didn't know if you were even alive until you picked up."

"God, not you too. I'm fine, drama queen."

"Drama queen?"

"Yeah, drama queen," Tara repeated, and more noises flooded in. It sounded as if she was in the city now, walking, "you sound just like Sam. I picked you because I thought you knew I didn't need a babysitter."

"That's not being babysat, Tara. That's making sure you're not dead," you rolled your eyes.

"Well, I'm not."

"Good."

"Great."

"Fine!" you shot back.

"Awesome."

You sighed into the speaker. "Pick up some flowers or something on your way back. Claim that's why you're late."

"Good idea, actually," Tara hummed.

"I know." And you hung up.

===+++===

You found yourself at an identical party the very next Friday night too, and the Friday after that, and after that too. The walls were just as stained. It smelled just as full of mold. This one didn't have a front room for you to barricade in, so you sat at the bar top instead, in the kitchen with your chin rested on the cool granite.

It had taken a whole night to get rid of the hangover from a few weeks before, and in doing so you had remembered why it was exactly that you didn't find these things too fun, anyways. You hadn't gotten anywhere near as drunk since. Mindy and Anika had decided on date night instead, and Chad and Ethan were off to watch a movie that originally you would've been invited to, had it not been for Tara.

It was painful, that Chad was ducking you. The irony wasn't lost, that the more time you spent with your fake girlfriend at parties and outings like a couple, the closer you got to actually repairing your relationship with him. You still would've rather gone to the movie, though.

You could actually see Tara, from where you sat. Through the bar window in the kitchen, she was on the dance floor, moving along with the rhythm of hard EDM as best she could. It was a giant mob of people, all clumped up and hopping around in excitement, and you didn't especially want to be out there.

As you watched, a guy came up behind Tara, tapping her on the shoulder and smiling down at her. You thought nothing of it, until you got a longer look at the guy's face. In the revolving, multicoloured lights that hung over the crowd, you recognised him in an instant, standing straight up and weaving your way through the party.

"You having fun, Carpenter?" He asked, with a douche-y smirk on his face as he said it. You rolled your eyes, coming up behind Tara and standing right behind her.

"I—" but you interrupted her.

"She is, Frankie," you shot, staring at him and crossing your arms. Tara whipped around to you with a glare.

"(Y/n), go away," she whispered loudly. But you stood your ground.

"Tara, literally anyone but him. I mean, anyone—"

"That's not your decision."

"Sam tased him in the balls last time. I mean, come on, you have to know he's a douche."

Frankie scoffed. "I'm sorry, who are you?"

"(Y/n) is just a—"

"—We're dating," you interrupted again. "So fuck off."

"No, we aren't," Tara shook her head. "Not really."

"Yes, we are," you nodded at Frankie. "Please leave. She's not sleeping with you tonight." He frowned, but started to walk off.

"That's not your decision, asshole!" Tara scowled and she reached out an arm to stop him. "Frankie, stay. You know what, I wasn't going to, but I will now."

"Frankie, leave. I mean it, you creep." You turned to her and glared. "Tara, listen to me, you—"

"No! Frankie, stay. Maybe I need the company," she shot back, narrowing her eyes. Frankie looked between you both, as did a few other people in the room who were starting to notice.

"They literally call him Date-Rape-Frankie, Tara. There's no way in hell you're sleeping with Date-Rape-Frankie. Frankie, leave."

"Frankie, no, stay. Well, what if I want to?"

"Then you're being stupid."

"Bold choice of words coming from you! You're not my mother."

"I'm not trying to be your mom, Tara. I'm using basic common sense. That guy is a creep and a perv," you pointed to him.

"Hey!" Frankie interjected, raising a hand to your shoulder.

"Fuck off!" you and Tara said in unison, dismissing him to glare right at each other.

"Well maybe I deserve the freedom to sleep with weirdos and whoever I want! I mean, who are you, the fucking sex-Nazi?"

"I don't have a problem with literally anyone else, Tara, but he's a weirdo!"

"Well then let me make that call! I'm not five. You don't need to baby me, I know he's a weirdo!" People were definitely staring now. You were both shouting, but a lot of it was drowned out by the EDM. It didn't stop others watching you point in each others faces and scowl.

"It's not babying you, Tara! It's basic caring! You have no clue about this shit, this is like your fourth party ever!"

"I've managed this far, haven't I?!"

"What, you want a cookie?!"

"Yeah, maybe I fucking do! I'm an adult, asshole! Let me do adult shit!"

"Wow, it's so adult and mature of you, to sleep with creeps and get hungover every Friday. How adult."

"Well, maybe it's not, but who gives a shit! I'm having fun for once! I'm being free without a fucking serial killer on my ass! I know you can't relate, but Christ, take the stick out from your ass!"

"Real nice," you shook your head. "This is what I get for helping you. Of fucking course." Before she could reply, you turned around and headed out the sliding glass door, into the fenced-in backyard. There was a pool back there, and you collapsed into a wrought iron pool chair, right near the edge.

People watched you warily, as you sat out there, but within minutes, the party was resumed. Even from outside, you could hear the thumping bass shake the windows gently as the glass moved in the panes.

There was a faint scent of petrichor from the small patch of grass out there, and the sky rumbled in the distance. It was peaceful out there, with small hanging fairy lights and the pool in front of you. You propped your legs up on the glass table and tried not to scream.

This was exactly what you should've expected, from Tara. Of course she would be selfish. Of course she would be brash. A part of you wasn't surprised. Disappointed, sure. But not surprised. You just sat there and tried to cool your breathing, watching the city lights in front of you.

You must've sat like that for an hour or two, just watching the city. It didn't feel like long enough. You might've even felt at peace, until you felt a hand on your shoulder.

"Um...excuse me?" You craned your neck around, looking up in your chair to see a concerned guy looking down at you.

"Are you (Y/n)?" He asked, awkwardly scratching his neck. You nodded, confused.

"Uh, yeah? Do we know each other?"

"No! No, I was asked by Tara, I think was her name? She wanted me to get you. She's your girlfriend, right?"

The worry came back, and you stood up. "Why, what happened? Where is she?" Sam was really going to kill you.

"She's in the guest bathroom, I think she's sick."

===+++===

"Tara?"

"(Y/n)?" you heard a very uneasy voice on the other end.

"Can I come in?" you asked, and when there was no response, you let yourself inside. She was on the other end of the massive bathroom, leaned up against the bathtub with her head close to the toilet bowl.

Tara looked absolutely green, with her hair sweatily stuck to her forehead and eyes barely open. "Christ Tara, how much did you have to drink?" you asked in worry, coming to stand over her.

"Oh, just—" she gagged like she was about to puke and you bent down to grab her and tug her towards the toilet bowl. You spun back to the guy in the doorway, who stared at you both with wide eyes.

"Can you get me some crackers and Gatorade?" you asked him, sending a hopeful glance. He nodded and closed the door, and you turned back to Tara, who was bent over the toilet bowl.

You moved her gently and lifted the toilet seat up. "Are you okay?" you asked with a frown. You felt like an idiot the moment it left your mouth.

She raised her eyebrows. "Do I look okay?" Tara mumbled.

"Well, no."

"Thass' good," she slurred. "I had too many," she hiccupped. You nodded.

"I'd say so. How much did you have Tara?"

She giggled. "This many." She held up four fingers with a giant, toothy grin and slumped with her arms encircling the toilet bowl.

"Since when?" you blinked.

"Since you got allllllllll pissy!" You sighed, hands going to her hair and pulling it back. She wrinkled her nose at you. "Why are you touching my hairrrrr?!"

"So you don't vomit all on it, idiot," you replied, shaking your head. Tara huffed.

"I'mnuh gonnuh puke."

And then Tara puked. Everywhere.

===+++===

You both sat there, that way, for about ten minutes. Tara vomited three times, during that span, and when she was done, you handed her the crackers and Gatorade and told her to do her worst.

She downed them in another fifteen minutes, sitting in the bathtub and eating while you sat leaned up against the bathroom wall, across from her, just in silence. The sounds of the party seemed to have died a little bit as the night droned on, and by now people would be wandering home or to someone else’s place.

While you waited, you shot Sam a text, letting her know you’d bring Tara home and that she was okay. Sam didn’t reply but she saw the message, and you figured that was good enough. When you checked the weather app, Tara finally spoke, coming to her senses a bit with more food in her system.

“Thank you,” she said quietly, staring down at the package for the crackers in her hand. “Thanks.”

You shrugged, staring at the toilet in front of you. It probably reeked in there, but at this point you were nose blind. “For what?” You meant for that to be it, just a small little acknowledgment, but Tara shook her head.

“Thank you for that. For being here.”

She stared right at you when she said it, and you knew she meant it with conviction. You nodded. “I know we don’t always get along, but I had your back, back there.”

“You have my back?” she asked, smiling a little and grabbing her Gatorade from the edge of the tub.

“I agreed to help you, didn’t I?”

She paused for a moment, then nodded. “You did, yeah.” Tara looked over at you, then tilted her head to the side. “I still don’t get why, though.”

“You were honest, for once.” It came from a surprising place, and you said it before you entirely knew you were speaking. You didn’t completely know what it meant either, until after you said it, but the words passed between you almost like a new understanding.

A few moments of silence came and went, before she spoke again. “I walk silently places at night in case I hear I’m being followed. By Ghostface. Same thing as when I’m home alone. I don’t do it as much anymore, but I still do it sometimes. Don’t tell Sam, please please please. She’ll make me go to therapy.”

“Okay,” you said, nodding gently. You leaned your head back up against the wall, craning it up to look at the ceiling.

“Why are you being nice to me?” She asked. You laughed, tracing the popcorn pattern of the roof with your eyes.

“I’m not the devil, Tara.”

“…Neither am I.”

“I know,” you said, and you reached your arm out for a cracker. She gave you one and you crunched down on it, while an especially large bass hit came from the speakers outside. “God, this music fucking sucks,” you groaned.

Tara nodded. “It’s really hard to dance to.”

“Well,” you shrugged, “it didn’t seem like you were struggling earlier.”

Tara frowned, then tilted her head in curiosity. “What’s your favourite song?”

You raised your eyebrows in amusement. “Why?”

“Just wondering,” she said.

“Okay… you’re going to laugh, though.”

“Am I?” she grinned. You nodded.

“Do you know that one song, The Promise, by When In Rome? It’s from the 80s, it’s super cheesy?”

She stared off for a moment, in thought, then shook her head. “Don’t think so, how’s it go?”

You rolled your eyes, but began to quietly sing it in a tone that wavered in between spoken word and humming. It was terrible and you were tone deaf, but it was the song. “If you need a friend, don’t look to a straaanger. You know in the end,” your voice broke a little at the low note, and Tara giggled but you continued, “I’ll always be thereee.”

“Wow.”

“Mhm. And then it skips a little bit and the chorus goes, ‘I’m sorry but I’m just thinking of the right words to say, I know they don’t sound the way I planned them to beee.’”

She cut you off with her hand, laughing hysterically. You felt your cheeks flushed, and in any other time you would’ve been annoyed with her laughing at you. But this didn’t feel mean. You just smiled right back.

“That was good, actually,” she managed, between small laughs. “Why is it your favourite?”

“Um,” you shrugged, “my brother used to sing it to me, years ago when I was scared.”

“I didn’t know you had a brother,” Tara said, leaning her head on the tile wall of the tub.

“I have six.”

She blinked, then sat up straight. “Since when?!”

“Always, Carpenter,” you shrugged. “Everyone knows.”

“Everyone who?”

“Chad, Mindy, Anika. Even Quinn.”

“I didn't know. How come you never talk about them?”

”I just don’t,” you frowned. Tonight was definitely not the night to get into that. Instead, you pivoted topics. “Why, what’s your favourite song? I showed you mine, now you’ve got to show me yours.”

“I’m ninety nine percent sure that’s not how that saying is used,” she laughed, “but fine. When I was crying as a baby, my mom sung me this song, called Baby, I Love You by The Ronettes.”

“Don’t think I’ve heard of it.”

Tara shook her head. “Probably not, but they’re the same group that does that one song Be My Baby?”

“Oh, yeah.”

“Apparently my mom had Baby, I Love You playing in the hospital, when I was born and everything. It’s kind of comforting. When I miss her, I play it.”

“How often is that?”

She shrugged. “More than you’d think, considering she’s a giant asshole.”

"That's always how it is."

"Mhm... and just so you know, I know Frankie was a creep. I wasn't actually going to do anything with him. Just flirt. Have fun."

"I know. I wasn't trying to babysit you, I just wanted to warn you. That creep has so many stories."

"I know. I just don't like being told what to do, sometimes. It's a whole thing. I'm working on it, seriously."

You didn’t know what to say to that, so you didn’t say anything at all. You both sat in what you assumed was a prolonged silence, until you looked down finally to see Tara’s eyelids falling heavy.

You stood up with a sigh. “You should go home.” There was no reply, and you checked out the small window in the bathroom to still see it was pitch black out. It was definitely too late to send her home this sleepy, and after the incident a few weeks ago, there was no way Sam would let her stay at yours. “Tara,” you nudged her.

She groaned, rolling over in the tub and snuggling up. You rolled your eyes, then looked out the window one more time with an annoyed grumble.

===+++===

The longer you had to walk with her on your back, the more you regretted this. Her arms were wrapped around your neck, face pressed onto the back of your shoulder and knees held up by your hands. You couldn’t see her, but you knew her eyes were shut and she was super close to being actually asleep.

"We make a good team, you know," she mumbled into your shoulder. You knew she was being funny, but you were too tired to laugh as you trudged up the hill. Carrying a drunk girl home was not at all what you had anticipated of the night, and though it had been shitty at the beginning and shitty until almost the very end, you could definitely say it wasn't shitty right then.

When you arrived at her apartment complex, Tara was soundly asleep and Sam came out to meet you both, taking her sister from you and stumbling with her towards the door. In the distance, right over another hill, the sky was already beginning to lighten up a bit.

Right as both Carpenters reached the door, Tara stopped for a moment to turn back to you with a smile. "Thanks, babe," she said with a cheeky grin that was only half awake. You smiled back.

"You too, babe."

Sam rolled her eyes, pulling Tara through the door. It was a pleasant night, still with the same faint scent of rain oncoming. In your weird, newfound peace as you walked home yourself, you didn't see that Quinn was watching you from the upstairs window.

===+++===

so that was fun lmao. anyways there will be a part 3 but you and tara are kind of maybe friends now? now it's time for feelings 😈

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Under the Mistletoe || OP81

Pairing: Oscar Piastri x bff!fem!reader Summary: Sick of his friends pining for each other but two stupid to realise it was mutual, Logan sets about making sure they both get their Christmas wish. Warnings: pining, angst, fluff WC: 2.2k

“Hold up, let me find his spare key,” Logan said as he balanced his box on top of the one you already carried.

“Just use mine,” you said as you carefully turned. “Back pocket, left. Other left, dude.”

“My bad.” Logan grabbed the keychain and tried the ones that weren’t your car or letterbox keys. “He gave you a key?”

“Just so I can water the plants while he’s away, and make sure the stove is turned off.”

Logan laughed, turning the right key and opening the door. “He doesn’t even cook.”

You shrugged and followed him into Oscar’s house. “Doesn’t stop him thinking he’s left it on as soon as he’s at the airport.”

It was like walking into your own apartment, there was a home comfort to hanging your keys on the hook that had your initials and hanging your coat on the rack. Picking your box up again, you followed Logan to the kitchen and deposited it on the bench before grabbing two glasses and pouring you both a much deserved drink.

“This is why people don’t believe you are ‘just friends’,” Logan stated, chuckling when you rolled your eyes at him and continued to help yourself to the snacks Oscar kept stocked for you.

“Just shut up and hang the decorations before I overlook your usefulness.”

Logan returned to his box, unpacking the tinsel and bunting that you had bought. “At least you didn’t deny it this time.”

“We are definitely just friends, Lo.” You looked down at the crisp packet and muttered under your breath, “I’m not his type anyway.”

You didn’t notice Logan pause, but you did look up when he shoved his handful back in the box. “What?”

“What?” you echoed.

“What did you say?”

“We are just friends.”

“No, after that.” He leaned back against the kitchen benchtop and crossed his arms. “How do you know you’re not his type?”

“Because we are friends, we talk about these things,” you said with a shrug. “Can we not talk about this right now? He’s going to be home in a few hours.”

“We have time,” Logan said with a shake of his head. “What makes you think you’re not his type?”

You huffed in annoyance and grabbed the decorations yourself, taking them to the living room since Logan was going to be no help. “Because I’m not, okay. He likes funny girls. He wants someone he can have a laugh with to take his mind off work when he gets home. And pretty too, actually he said ‘beautiful’.”

“Okay…” Logan stared at you until you grew uncomfortable.

“And he's surrounded by models at every event.”

“So why isn’t he dating one of them then?”

“Because his standards are obviously high if they aren’t pretty enough for him. I don’t stand a chance.”

Logan shook his head and groaned. “Have you told him that you love him?”

“Of course I have, I tell him all the time.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

You gave him a look that warned him not to ask another stupid question. “I’m not going to risk our friendship when my relationships never end well. I’d rather be his friend forever, than an ex I never see again.”

“God, you are both so stupid.” Logan brushed you aside as you tried to jump and reach the hooks high up the wall. “Give me that before you hurt yourself.”

You watched on as he hung the tinsel around the room with minimal guidance needed and deemed it safe enough to leave him in charge. Oscar was fairly tidy, compared to the other men you know, but his pet hate was making his bed. He would always leave it unmade claiming he was only going to make it messy again that night.

You went upstairs and made the bed before seeing the laundry basket was overflowing. He mustn’t have had time to do it between his trip to Baku, the McLaren Factory and then his short trip home to Melbourne. That was why you were in his house, setting it up for another Christmas he would miss with his family. You didn’t want him to feel alone so you were bringing Australia to him.

You lost track of time when you found his whites mixed in with the colours and you tutted to yourself as you separated them to soak in the sink.

“You don’t have to do that,” Oscar said when he found you in his laundry, both the dryer and the washing machine working as hard as you.

“Hey, you’re home!” You dropped the clothes you were folding and threw your arms around him. His tired chuckle made your heartbeat a little fast as he embraced you back and buried his face in your neck. “How’s mum and dad? And your sisters? Did they like the presents?”

His head grew heavier as he leaned against you and nodded. “Of course they did, you always know what they want.”

“Not me, you,” you corrected as you brushed a hand over his messy hair. “You got them remember.”

Oscar pulled back with a shy smile. “I think everyone knows you are the mastermind. I would have just given them a gift card.”

You laughed at the truth as the dryer finished another load but Oscar took your hand and towed you out of the laundry. “I’ll do it later,” he stated. “Logan’s already got the tree up but there’s one thing missing.”

Your jaw dropped as you saw the living room had been completely transformed into an Australian Christmas so Oscar would feel at home. A pine tree sat in the corner of the room, needles scattered around the base from trying to manoeuvre it into place. Like the ceiling, green and gold tinsel snaked around the tree but it was the floor that caught your eye.

“The sand was meant to be in the pool,” you laughed as you pointed to the small children’s sized blow up pool still in the box. Logan had poured the bags of golden sand around the tree and the wooden floor now resembled a tiny beach.

“You know, that makes more sense,” Logan admitted.

You bit your lip but it did little to stifle the laugh and when Oscar’s deeper laugh joined there was no holding back. The three of you collapsed laughing onto the couch to embrace the beach themed room and you kicked your shoes off to dig your toes into the sand.

“It’s so weird to imagine,” you chuckled, the snow falling outside a complete contradiction to the scene inside. The central heating had been cranked up to its hottest setting and it truly felt like summer. “Christmas is for making snowmen and having hot chocolate by the fire.”

Oscar draped his arm over the back of your cushion and stretched his legs out after his long flight. “How about next year I can take you home to experience this first hand?”

You smiled at the idea but you couldn’t make that commitment by saying yes, even if you wanted nothing more than to make it happen. “Maybe, let’s just see what the year brings. Who knows, you might want to take your girlfriend home.”

He looked at you with a frown. “I don’t have a girlfriend, yet.”

“Exactly, yet.”

“Idiots,” Logan mumbled as he got up. “I’m getting a drink. You guys want one?”

You both thanked him and as he left the room Oscar patted your knee. “Star time.”

You grinned at the fact he remembered your favourite part of setting the tree up and his hands settled on your hips when you reached it. “I can’t be bothered getting the ladder out,” he said before he picked you up. You placed the glittery star on the highest point and adjusted it a few times more than necessary until Oscar laughed and eased you down. But his hands still remained on your hips. “It’s perfect.”

Logan returned and the moment shattered as you took your drink from him and cleared your throat. “Merry Christmas, my orphan friends.”

“Thanks for the adoption,” Logan chuckled. “If I can’t spend Christmas with my family it’s nice to at least have you guys.”

“That probably sounded better in his head,” Oscar teased before raising his glass too. “But he’s right, thank you.”

“It’s my pleasure.” Your cheeks warmed at the smile on his face and you were sure he felt it when he pressed a chaste kiss to one. A little frazzled, you tried to hide the effect he had on you and pointed to the mess on the floor. “Do you think we can build a sandcastle?”

“No, but I think we can build a snowman. Go put your coat on, I know you want to.”

You didn’t have to be told twice and Logan laughed as Oscar followed you to the backyard. “You two have fun, I like the heat more.”

Your breath misted as it hit the chilly air and you rushed to pull your gloves on, something you should have done before stepping outside.

“Here, let me,” Oscar offered, shoving his own in his pocket in the meantime. He took your woollen mittens and held them open for you before tightening the wrists and sealing the warmth that remained inside. “You look like a marshmallow.”

You bent down and started to collect the snow needed to make the first ball and narrowed your eyes at him when he joined you a moment later, his gloves already on. “I’m going to take that as a compliment.”

“You should,” he smirked. “Marshmallows are cute.”

“Cute?” You wrinkled your nose and gently nudged him with your shoulder. “Now that’s an insult.”

His brows furrowed in confusion. “To you or the marshmallow?”

“Uh, both,” you decided with a definitive nod.

“Okay, sorry,” he apologised and then bit his bottom lip as he stared at you over the growing snowball. “Marshmallows are beautiful and my favourite thing in the whole wide world. I love marshmallows.”

“Wow, weirdo, they aren’t that great.”

Logan had been about to ask if you wanted another drink but instead he closed the kitchen window. “Marshmallows, idiots.”

“Not bad for an Aussie,” you commented as you wrapped your arms around his waist and admired the finished product. “A shame you didn’t have a carrot in your fridge.”

Oscar pushed the cucumber nose in further to stop it drooping down before hugging you tighter. “Or a spare scarf, you must be freezing.” He pulled his own off one and draped it around your neck so yours could stay on the snowman. “Ready to go back in?”

You nodded reluctantly and let him go, following him into the warmth where Logan sat in the leather recliner watching Home Alone. “Nice to see you waited for the rest of us,” Oscar noted as he dropped onto the couch and pulled you down with him. 

“You know it word for word.”

“So do you.”

“I ran out of things to do,” he said with a shrug.

Everything had been seen up so you were confused by the statement. “What did you do?”

Logan didn’t answer as he tossed another handful of popcorn in his mouth before blindly pointing in your direction, but higher. You and Oscar looked up and found a small wreath hanging where a picture frame of the Albert Park F1 circuit was, woven into the greenery you spotted it - Mistletoe. 

“Dude!” “Mate!”

Logan laughed to himself and kept watching the movie. “You know the rules. Kiss or streak in the snow.”

“I don’t remember it being streaking,” Oscar commented as he turned to you.

You looked at him too, your eyes drifting down to his lips. You had spent countless daydreams imagining how they would feel against yours.

“Don’t overthink it, the rule needed changing,” Logan mumbled. “So…”

“It’s really cold outside,” you murmured as you dragged your eyes back up to meet his. 

“Way too cold,” he agreed with the smallest of nods. The air was pregnant with the pause before he exhaled and reached for you. His hand curled behind your nape and drew you closer, so slowly you weren't sure he was going to change his mind or thinking you would. If only he knew.

Your heart thumped loudly as you felt his breath on your skin and your hands found their way to his shoulders and ran along the thick muscles that climbed his neck. “Osc,” you whispered softly as you felt the warmth radiating off his lips but still they didn’t touch.

“Yeah?” he asked, the corners tugging up as he heard the need in your tone.

“Please...”

He pulled back just far enough to see the burning desire in your eyes and his thumb stroked your jawline. “Been waiting years for this.”

You couldn’t tell who moved first, but you both moved together, his mouth slanting over yours perfectly like they were made to complement each other. Your fingers tangled in his hair and you tasted the beer on his tongue when he slipped it between your parted lips with a deep moan.

Popcorn rained over your heads and you broke apart to glare at the very smug looking man responsible. “About fucking time! I love you, but you are both idiots.”

[drabblesandimagines]

Crash

Leon Kennedy x female reader, established relationship

The sidewalk feels cold beneath your thighs as you stare blankly into your lap, your breaths heavy, struggling through a tight chest. You’re sat cross-legged, like a child - the nice, elderly lady had encouraged you to sit down, said you were looking pale. She’d definitely meant for you to take a seat on the bench a few steps away, but you’d just dropped, seemingly forgetting how to get from standing to sitting in any sort of graceful manner.

She’d smiled sympathetically then, offered you some candy from the bottom of her purse – kept a stash in there for her grandchildren - said you needed sugar for the shock. But you’d shook your head, feeling sick at the notion of eating anything. She asked if there was anyone she could call whilst waiting for the first responders.

You’d put your hand in your jacket pocket for your phone at her question – relieved it’s in one piece, not smashed up like the hunk of metal just out of eyeshot. You don’t remember calling Leon’s number, but you must have because now your phone’s up against your ear.

“Hey, sweetheart.” He answers after only four rings, though his voice is hushed - maybe ducked out of the room to answer. “Can I call you back in 20? Just wrapping up something here.”

“I-crashed-the-car.” You blurt out, the words running into one another. It’s not technically true, you were crashed into but this seems easier for now.

“What?” His volume amps way up and your stomach twists with the change, unsure of the implications – is he mad? Upset?

You were borrowing his car. Yours was in the garage, the brake discs needed replaced and would take a couple of days to get the parts in. You’d planned to take city transport but Leon insisted you take his car - arguing it was winter, that it gets dark so early and the idea of you walking to and from the bus stop on your own isn’t one he wants to entertain. You don’t live in a terrible neighbourhood, but you don’t have to be for monsters to be roaming the streets, after all. Plus, it made sense for him to ride his bike to HQ whilst you borrowed his SUV and he wouldn’t have to worry, have one less thing on his plate… ..or so had been the idea. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

“I’m so sorry,” you don’t even take in his questions, really. “They came out of nowhere and…“ Your breath hitches in your throat, a sob building up and threatening to overflow.

“Baby,” his tone is firm, “are you hurt?”

You can hear his shoes slapping against the floor as he begins to run, though it sounds too hard a sole for his boots... No, that’s right, he went out in a suit this morning – leather jacket on top, motorcycle helmet tucked under his arm, still made the whole ensemble look good albeit it being mismatched.

“No…” That’s not true - there’s blood, and it has to be yours, but you feel numb of any sort of pain. “I don’t know.“ Your voice cracks again. “That’s okay,” he soothes, barging through a door with his shoulder. “We’ll work it out.” Nearly takes a woman out the other side with how hard the door slams against the wall, mutters half an apology as he darts around her. “Are you still in the car?” You turn to look at Leon’s black SUV laying on its side, the under carriage on full display – not the way a car should be. The driver’s side is against the concrete. You’d climbed out the passenger side, somehow, having to fight gravity itself to get the door to open, clambered up and over the leather seats. Should you have done that, or should you have stayed put? You’d just wanted out from the metal box – the windscreen was a spiderweb of cracks, creaking like it would explode in shards at any moment. “N-no, I’m on the sidewalk.”

“Okay, good. Ambulance on its way?” He’s reached the elevator, mashes the down button like it will make it accelerate to his floor any faster than usual. He feels awful that he’s interrogating you, but his training has kicked in - gather as much intel as possible – and he needs the facts.

“Yeah. Police too.” A few cars had stopped after. Someone said they were calling 911, another saying they got some of the license plate, the old lady and her purse full of candy. The other car drove off, tyres burnt with how fast they fled the scene.

“Good. That’s good, sweetheart. You’re going to be okay. Can you tell me where you are? What street you’re on?”

“Erm…” You look round, but in the shock nothing looks familiar, though it must be a route you’d driven down hundreds of times before. “I was on the way home from work, so, I’m, erm…”

“That’s all right.” He can hear the tightness in your voice, knows you’re not thinking clearly and so he changes tact. “Is anyone nearby that you could ask?” He hits the elevator button again, swears it’s been on floor 12 for far longer than necessary. Come on.

The elderly lady comes back to mind – she must’ve stepped back to give you privacy when you’d pulled your phone out. “There’s someone.”

“Great. Can you ask them where you are?”

“Yeah…” You pull the phone down from your ear, looking around to find she’s not gone far at all, hovering a few metres away. “Excuse me, where are we? Sorry.” The apology slips out, feeling more of a nuisance to her than you’d already been.

“16th Street, dearie.” She smiles, keeps her tone gentle. “Just near Jack’s Groceries.”

The elevator finally arrives – empty - and Leon positions himself between the doors, aware that his reception might drop when he starts to head down to the garage and he can’t leave you on a dial tone.

“Thank you.” You force a smile in return, hold the phone back up to your ear. “16th Street, near the grocery store, Jack’s - it’s the one with those chips you like?”

He smiles at that – it’s not your usual place to shop, but you go there sometimes to pick them up for him ‘just cos’. “I’m on my way, sweetheart. Can you call or text me if you go anywhere else?”

“Y-yeah.” You take another shuddering breath, dig your nails into the palm of your hand. “Thank you. I’m so sorry.”

He steps into the elevator fully, double taps the button for the garage before assaulting another to close the doors. He hopes no-one tries to grab it on the way down, cos he won’t be able to hide his irritation.

“Nothing to apologize for. Everything’s going to be okay. I love you, baby.”

“Love you too.”

“See you soon.”

He hears the beep, signaling the call is cut off and takes a grounding breath, though his foot taps impatiently as the elevator continues to descend. He scrolls down his contacts, thumb poised to dial as soon as the doors open again.

“Leon,” Hunnigan sounds surprised to receive his call, probably cos he’s in the same building as her and usually swung by the office if he was after something. “To wha-“

“I need a car.” He cuts across her, heading over to where the company vehicles are kept. “Any car - I’m in the garage already.”

“Right. Why?” He feels a smidge of relief when he hears her begin to type.

“Please - just give me anything. I don’t care what, I just need to go.”

There’s the clunk of a lock down the line of vehicles, a black estate vehicle’s lights flashing. “Bay C3. Keys in the sun visor as usual. Tell me later.”

“I will. Thank you.”

 --

Leon drives a little faster than he should, but it still feels like hours until he reaches his destination. There’s a couple of cop cars blocking one of the lanes, red and blues flashing, an officer stood diverting traffic around the closure and another manning the perimeter. He pulls up behind the cars and hops out, scanning for you.

There’s an ambulance parked up in the lane and his heart skips a beat when he sees you sat on the steps, a cop on one side, a paramedic waiting behind in the wings. There’s one of those silver foil emergency blankets draped around your shoulders and you look so goddamn small.

He starts to jog over, intent on getting to your side as soon as possible, when the cop manning the perimeter sidesteps in front of him, holding his hands up to get him to stop.

“Sir, I need you to stay ba-“

Leon flashes his ID in his face – it’s not something he likes to do and so he rarely does it, but he doesn’t have time to put on the charm. “Agent Leon Kennedy. That’s my girlfriend over there – I need to get through.”

The cop steps back and Leon feels weirdly grateful for once for the DSO.

As he gets closer, his eyes narrow at the fact that they’re making you blow into a breathalyzer. He clenches his fist then - you’re bleeding and they’re accusing you of drink-driving?! He wants to give them what for, but then he sees the way you’re shaking and knows him storming into the scene ready to blow is not going to help, especially with how apologetic you’d been on the phone.

He forces himself to stop a moment and breathes deeply again. You’re shook up, but you’re in one piece, conscious and that’s the most important thing.

“Thank you, ma’am.” The officer nods, noting down the reading as Leon walks over, catching the tail-end of the conversation. “Nothing to worry about there. I’ll just go update the control room – it won’t be long.”

“Leon,” you stand abruptly at the sight of him as the cop steps off to the side and the foil blanket slips off your shoulders, gauze taped on multiple parts of your arms. You’re trembling. “I’m so sorry.”

“Come here,” Leon wraps his arms around you, coaxing you into his chest. He wants to squeeze tight, to confirm what he’s seen with his eyes, that you’re real and whole, but he doesn’t want to aggravate any injuries so he’s careful, pressing a kiss to your crown. “Don’t apologise, sweetheart. I’m just so glad you’re okay.”

“Y-yeah, I’m fine.” You’re not, but maybe if you say it to Leon it’ll make it real. There’s a horrible burning sensation in your chest. You want to cry, but not here, not in front of everyone.

“Sorry, ma’am, can I get you to take a seat again?” The paramedic interrupts, emergency blanket back in hand. “I won’t be long, sir. I just need to check a couple more things.”

“No, of course.” He presses another kiss to your forehead and guides you back to the steps, encouraging you to sit and takes the blanket from the paramedic’s hand to drape back over you. “I’ll be right over there, okay? I’m just gonna go have a word with the officer.”

“Okay, yeah.”

He steps aside so the paramedic can move in and waits for the officer to come off the radio, approaching and offering his hand. “Leon Kennedy. I’m her boyfriend.”

“I gathered.” He shakes it. “Officer Jacobs. It was your car she was driving?”

“Mm-hm.” He keeps half an eye on you as he sees the paramedic shine a flashlight in your eyes, getting you to follow his finger. “What happened?”

The cop consults his notepad, flipping through his notes. “A witness stated another SUV-type vehicle went through the red light at some speed. Said it had been driving erratically for a while, so I’m figuring drunk-driver. T-boned, sent your SUV spinning and flipped onto its side after it collided with the lamp-post. The other vehicle stopped for five seconds or so, then gunned it. I’ve got dispatch sending a description out for the highway patrols. Partial registration but it’s gonna have damage, I’m sure, so should be easy to spot if it’s still in transit.”

Leon swallows, taking all the information in.

“How lucky do you think she was?”

“Truthfully,” the cop scratches his day-old stubble, looking between the SUV and you, “I think if she’d been in a different car than that, we’d be having a very different and difficult conversation right now.”

Leon’s fists clench. He’s encountered unspeakable horrors too often in his time, but the idea that some drunken jerk could just get behind the wheel and end your life is more terrifying than anything he’s ever faced. His thoughts swirl down a dangerous drain - wonders if Hunnigan can grab the partial registration from the cops, run it through her software and find the culprit, or trawl the CCTV cameras for a screengrab. He’d show up at their door, or maybe wait for them in the parking lot, revving his own engine, scare them the way they’ve traumatized you and-

“Sir?”

The thought extinguishes as he realizes the cop is offering him a slip of paper.

“Case number. We’ve got her details and we’ll be in touch if we hear anything, but just in case either of you want to follow anything up.”

“Got it.” He nods, taking it and popping it into his wallet. “Thanks.”

--

Leon wants to take you straight home – he’s got a substantial first aid kit there that’ll do the trick on the cuts that need stitching – but, honestly, you need a proper check-up and only the emergency room will do.

You’d required a few stitches from where you’d been caught by the glass from the driver’s window and bruises had started to develop, specially from where the seatbelt had jerked at the impact, but the overall prognosis was positive – you’d be sore for a few weeks, that was for sure, but armed with some painkillers and some rest, you’d be fine.

Leon doesn’t think he’s ever driven quite so carefully the way he drove to and from the emergency room. Not that will help against other assholes on the road, but he’ll be damned if he does anything that means he has to slam on the brakes and give you a fright. You’ve been silent most of the time – silent on the drive, silent in the waiting room, answering the doctor’s questions in a quiet, unsure voice, and then silent again on the drive home. He’d placed a cautious hand on your knee, squeezing it in reassurance, meaning to draw it away but you’d placed your hand on top of it, looping your fingers through his.

He pulls into the parking lot, gives your hand one last squeeze and hops out, dashing around so he can help you out the vehicle. Leon can read you like a book, he knows you’re holding it together until you get inside – you know you are too.

The elevator is mercifully sat on the ground floor when the two of you enter the lobby and Leon keeps you close as you ride up to the 12th floor and the safety of the apartment.

“Can we sit?”

“Of course, sweetheart. Whatever you want.” He sits down on the sofa first and you drop yourself down onto his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck. It’s only a second before you burrow your head under his chin and, with a heaving breath, finally let out a proper sob - releasing everything you’ve held in for the last few hours. You feel stupid, annoyed, frightened, sore, relieved – too many emotions to keep track of.

He wraps his arms around you in turn, pressing a long kiss to your temple, tears burning at his own eyes.

In that moment, it hits Leon in the gut that he doesn’t know what he’d do without you, what he would have done if you hadn’t come home that night. If he’d have to come back to the apartment and not find your shoes kicked off at the door at the end of the long day, the glass with the lipstick smear on the rim near the sink from the water you’d gulp down greedily whilst making dinner.  It’s not like he takes you for granted by any means. He feels lucky every morning when he gets to wake up next to you in bed, and every night when he climbs back in, wrapping his arms around you. He’ll never let the two of you go to sleep or part ways if you’ve had harsh words or a full blown argument as all couples do, not with the risk his line of work brings, the threat that he could be called away in the middle of the night and have to bid goodbye to a turned back.

He rubs his hand gently up and down your back then, tears silently rolling down his face as he takes you all in, relishes your warmth as he cradles you in his lap.

“I’m so sorry.” You hiccup, your sobs eventually ceasing into sniffles, but still you kept your face pressed into his chest, seeking the comfort of his smell – the faint cologne and natural musk that was so uniquely Leon.

“You did nothing wrong, you hear me?” He mumbles into your crown. “You have nothing to apologize for.”

“Is the car a complete write-off?”

“Don’t know, don’t care.” He gently lifts your left hand, presses a kiss across your knuckles. “I love you, baby. So much.”

“Love you too.”  

The day after the next – he negotiated a personal day to spend doting on you, breakfast in bed, cuddles on the sofa, takeaway for dinner – Leon goes out and buys a ring.

--

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[onlygarden]

[he accuses you of cheating] - yang jungwon

genre- angst/ comfort

description: jungwon grows suspicious when you run into a coworker during a date with him

requested!

the sunlight subtly beams through the window of the coffeeshop, landing gracefully upon your boyfriend’s features as you both converse quietly. you laugh at something jungwon says and he smiles fondly at you, his eyes beaming with adoration for you. 

“i’ll be right back,” he says, suddenly standing up and heading towards the restroom.

you nod, and you admire his shoulder-to-waist ratio as his distance from you grows further. your eyes don’t leave him until he disappears into the entryway of the restrooms. 

after shamelessly observing your boyfriends unbelievable body frame, you turn to gaze outside of the large windows beside you. the small tree outside of the shop trembles in an (almost) unnoticeable manner as a slight breeze barely drifts by. the day was so lovely. 

you hear the sound of the entrance opening behind you, and you return your gaze to the inside of the coffeeshop as you bring the straw of your beverage to your lips. 

“y/n?” a voice gently asks for your attention. 

you shift your gaze upwards, spotting a tall, slim man approaching your sitting figure, a delicate smile stretched across his face. you quickly recognize him as a coworker of yours, standing up to greet him with excitement. 

“oh my goodness, hey!” you say cheerily. you don’t expect him to extend his arms towards you for a hug, but you oblige, seeing no harm in the friendly gesture. your job doesn’t require you to work during the summer, so it had been a few weeks since you’d seen any of your work friends. 

as you pull away from the brief hug, you notice jungwon standing beside the two of you with his hands in his pockets. his expression was deadpan, although a slight glare touched his sharp eyebrows. his eyes fell from the man in front of you as they eerily landed upon you. 

although you were startled by his expression, you take it as a cue to introduce jungwon to your friend. “oh! jungwon, this is a coworker of mine. we work in the same department.” you inform him, gesturing towards the man. 

“this is my boyfriend, jungwon,” you tell your coworker, placing your hand on your boyfriend’s shoulder and moving to stand at his side. 

the two men shake hands, jungwon’s eyes piercing intensely into the man in front of him. you noticed how rigid jungwon’s body was, and you realize you should keep this interaction short. 

following your exchange of final greetings, your coworker takes his leave. jungwon grabs your hand as he pulls you out of the coffeeshop with haste. 

the car overflows with an unbearable tension as jungwon enters. he closes his car door, and the silence that follows tightens the invisible pressure surrounding your body. even turning to look at him seems too difficult of a task at this moment. 

he battles no reluctance as he turns to look at you, though. his body is leaned back in his seat, but he’s anything but relaxed as his anger seethes underneath his skin. you sat underneath his fixed look, finally finding the strength to return his stare. 

“who was he?” he asks you bluntly. your brows furrow slightly. 

“he’s my coworker jungwon, i told you that,” you say calmly. jungwon nods ominously. your stomach turns.

“what made you guys so close? he looked like he could barely contain himself when he touched you,” jungwon’s skin heated up as he remembered the way that man wrapped his arms around your body. 

you felt a pang in your chest. “what are you trying to say jungwon? ” you turn to face him fully, beginning to grow annoyed with him now. 

jungwon’s face darkens. the thought of that man running his hands across your body as he privately undresses you flashes cruelly through his mind. jungwon closes his eyes, his head tilting a bit as he inhales sharply. letting out his breath, he eyes fall back on you.

“you letting him fuck you?” jungwon’s skin burns. 

your mouth falls open slightly. why would he even think something like that?

“no, of course not,” you assert with a raised tone, “do you seriously think i’m cheating on you?” 

jungwon leans closer to you, his forearms landing upon the console that separated the two of you.  “why’d you wear that? did you want to remind him what he was missing?” 

you stare at him in disbelief. his eyes glide across your exposed legs and he grows angrier at the thought of that man seeing them. seriously? does he really have a problem with a casual dress? 

“how was i supposed to know i’d run into him here? and what’s wrong with what i’m wearing?” you ask incredulously. 

jungwon’s eyes drill into yours. “i should’ve thought twice about this relationship. i had a feeling you’d be the type to need constant male attention. you really can’t last eight hours at work without needing a man to touch you?” his tone started to elevate.

you were beyond words. you never once even thought about being with another man since you and jungwon had been together. whenever you look at jungwon, you feel without any semblance of doubt that he’s the one for you. this new side of him absolutely sickened you, though. you’ve never known him to be so unreasonably jealous and accusatory. what troubled you further, though, was the frightening realization that he doesn’t trust you. 

“why don’t you trust me, jungwon? what have i ever done that would make you think of me in such an awful way?” your voice was raised, and you fought hard to resist the tears of hurt and frustration that urged against your eyes. jungwon sat directly in front of you, but you could feel an endless gap stretching hideously between the two of you. 

he didn’t feel bad. his anger only soared to higher lengths as he perceived your dismay as a slick attempt to conceal your true devious nature. he refused to be fooled by you. 

“even if you haven’t already done it, i know you have every intention to. why else would you let him touch you?” he yells back, aggressively slamming his hand down onto the console that his forearms rested on. “nasty unfaithful slut.” he quietly added as he turned towards the steering wheel, leaving you speechless again. 

without another word, jungwon starts the car. 

you could hardly describe the car ride as uncomfortable, because your mind and body were too shocked to even begin to process any feelings or emotions. jungwon pulls into the driveway of your home, his face still donning the same peeved expression. you get out before him, quickly unlocking the front door and heading straight to the shower.

your mind swirled with an abundance of thoughts and questions. his sudden harsh words, however, chiefly persisted in your brain. you wished your mind didn’t bestow you with the pleasure of an endless encore of jungwon’s dreadful performance. 

dressed in lounge clothes with your hair still slightly damp, you enter your bedroom and sit on your bed with a sigh. sitting criss-cross, you drop your face into your hands. the door opens steadily. you lift your head at the sound, and you stand up to leave. you didn’t have nearly enough time away from him to gather yourself. 

jungwon catches your wrist before you reach the door. startled, you turn to look at him. he looked warmly apologetic. his facial expression wasn’t enough to change anything, though. 

“noona, i was wrong,” he begins, his eyes swelling pleadingly. “i’m so stupid, i don’t actually believe anything that i said to you. i was just so shocked when i saw him hugging you that i didn’t know what to do.” he grabs your other wrist, shifting his delicate grip to your hands. 

“i’m so sorry,” he says, falling to his knees and sitting on his heels, his eyes begging you to forgive him. 

you look at him. you couldn’t describe the emotion your brain launched at you as you processed this situation; anger, sorrow, despair, and disgust jumbled within you, leaving you frazzled. this is so unfair, you thought. he sat before you, apologizing so sweetly after he tossed words at you that left you completely shattered. it’s not like you didn’t want him to apologize, but this was such a troubling situation. instinctually, you wished to forgive him. you wanted nothing more than to sit down with him and squeeze him in a hug, telling him that you forgave him and that you knew he didn’t want to hurt you. but was that entirely true? he aimed to belittle you with his words, even if they only arose from the bitter envy he held towards your coworker. he insists that he didn’t mean it, but why would he even think to say it? 

“jungwon, please stand up,” you begin composedly, although you were miles away from being composed. 

he squeezes your hands gently as he lifts his body from the floor in front of you, his sorrowful expression now coupled with anxiety. he felt uneasy as he anticipated your next words. 

“it’s not that i don’t forgive you. i do believe that you’re truly sorry,” you say, removing your hands from his. he looks pitifully upon the gesture before returning his eyes to yours. 

“i just haven’t fully gathered myself yet. the things you said to me… it’s not something i can just shake off.” you admit. you felt awful as you watched him take in your words, but you couldn’t just ignore the fact that you needed more time to heal. 

“okay, baby. yea,” he responds, fighting through the torment he felt from you words. “whatever you need.” his regret was punishing him more severely than ever, right now. above all, he didn’t want you to suffer anymore than you already were because of him. he’d give you all the time in the world.

“if there’s anything i can do to make it better, i will. i hate that i made you feel like this.” he says, pulling you in for a hug. even if you ended up pushing him away, he couldn’t resist the urge to at least try. 

you returned his hug, exhaling shakily as you began to cry. the sound brutally squeezed his chest. he could hardly bear it. desiring to provide you with any bit of solace he was capable of, he began to rub his hands against your back, reassuring you and gently encouraging you to ‘let it out, baby.’ 

“you know that i love you, baby,” he says, “so much.” 

“i know. i love you, too.” you tell him. he’s your everything. even though he hurt you, no matter how many other men there are, you’d still choose him. you know that’ll never change. you knew, without a doubt, that he wasn’t the type to hurt you without drowning in regret. he would never leave you with such neglect to endure endless agony after arguing. 

jungwon spent the next few weeks pampering you with no bounds, in hopes of quelling your pain even a little bit. his loved reached you, and with no time to waste, you both settled back into a beautiful eternity together.

@unii30 : ]

[justwinginglife]

Gimme a oneshot of Reader who doesn't have any experience in love so she panics when she gets feelings for Hoshina, giving him random things (a nice rock, random vegetables, ect.) And randomly blurts out embarrassing compliments "YOUR MUSCLES LOOK VERY NICE TODAY VICE CAPTAIN SIR" before she just fucking books it out of there.

I love you so much bestie. I will do this for you 100%, thanks for always matching my freak.

The Thing About Being In Love

You always thought you wouldn't know love if it hit you in the face. But then you fell in love and felt like you just couldn't stop taking hits. You had no idea how to process your feelings, no idea how to convey those feelings in a way that made sense, and no idea how to stop those feelings from overflowing.

The thing about being in love with Soshiro Hoshina was that your feelings always made themselves known to him before you wanted them to. Before you could even think about what you needed to say and how you needed to say it, you words were already tumbling out in a chaotic jumble. They always did. And it made you love him even more that he never judged you for it. He'd just smile the same sweet smile again and you could feel yourself falling deeper and deeper.

When you first met him, you made quite the first impression- after reflexively reaching out to ruffle his hair because you just needed to know if it was as soft as it looked, you earned yourself 50 push-up's and his undying attention going forward. He wanted to know more about the girl who'd said fuck it to all manner of decorum and propriety, ignoring the chain of command to satisfy her desires. It wasn't until he got to know you better that he realized that you just couldn't control yourself.

He'd been particularly amused when you'd complimented the way his muscles looked in his favorite compression shirt (it was his favorite only because you'd complimented him in it). In fact, you'd noticed that he'd started wearing it more frequently around you after you made comments on it the first time around. And you just couldn't stop making comments on it every time after that.

"Oh, wow... your back muscles are gorgeous, can I touch them?" You yanked your hand back before you actually did touch him and scurried off, red in the face.

"Your abs look so solid... shit, I'm drooling." You shook your head aggressively, wiped your mouth, and ran off again.

One time you'd even had the nerve to say "Do you think you could wear me like that shirt?" Immediately after, you slapped a hand over your mouth and bolted like you were on fire.

And when you'd taken up gardening for fun, after harvesting a bunch of potatoes, you wondered if Hoshina liked potatoes which led you spiraling down the rabbit hole, wondering if he was eating enough. So, of course, you made the walk to his apartment in your gardening overalls and offered him the potato, still covered in dirt. He took it, stunned, and watched as you proceeded to walk away as if you'd never been there in the first place. Little did he know, you were embarrassed that you'd trudged over to him, still caked in mud, just to present him with the most underwhelming of gifts. You still didn't know how you got these ideas in your head and why your body executed them before your mind could properly protest.

Then there was the time that someone had painted a smiley face on a rock and placed it near the sidewalk by your house- it had reminded you of his warm smile and you'd given it to him in the middle of a training session. Despite your malfunctioning brain, your strength and your skill were actually quite impressive, and he always enjoyed a good spar with you. It wasn't until he had you pinned to the ground that you felt the rock digging into your leg and you'd pulled it out of your pocket and gifted it to him right then and there. He did more than smile that time, he actually laughed. You flushed, wondering if he was going to make fun of you for once, but he didn't. He took the rock gleefully and even named it after you. You started giggling and soon, the two of you were just collapsed on the floor, filled with laughter.

At least some good could come out of these random bursts of affection and you wouldn't trade these precious little moments with him for the world. The thought that you were the one that made him smile and laugh like this, it filled you with the most genuine sense of happiness even if you were embarrassed at how you'd done it.

At some point, Hoshina thought he'd have some fun with the situation- he didn't want you to feel left out after all, and he wanted to compliment you too.

So he started running up to you, yelling something like "Your hair looks very pretty today!" or "Those curves of yours are looking mighty fine!" and then dart off; even though he wasn't embarrassed, he wanted to keep the same energy as you. It made you laugh. And he loved when you laughed.

And then it got easier and easier to be around him. You weren't stumbling over your words anymore, you were proclaiming them with pride.

"Thought you could hide those biceps from me forever, huh, Hoshina? Let me get a good look." You even had the nerve to fucking wink at him.

He'd smirk and flex them at you, then blow you a kiss.

And you went on and on like this, flirting with him, laughing with him, stealing little moments with him anywhere you could. The thing about being in love with Soshiro Hoshina was that your feelings always made themselves known to him. But somehow, someway, through all the awkward encounters, all the stammered words, all the heavy breaths threatening to collapse your trembling lungs, your feelings found their way into his heart. And he guarded them like they were his treasure. And he reciprocated them tenfold.

One day, he said the cheesiest thing about how when you had kids he'd have the best story to tell them about how you met and how you started falling for each other and you teased him for being so corny, but that was the day you knew you'd marry him.

Because the thing about being in love with Soshiro Hoshina is that it's the best feeling in the world, but being loved by Soshiro Hoshina is even better.