#even music kind of tastes bad right now

[atlasifyllm]

#ive been so anxious over college stuff i've been willy wonka-ing my ocs #my brain doesnt feel good! so plotting my ocs doesnt feel good! their plots just dont feel good! #even music kind of tastes bad right now #it doesnt help that ive been having massive art block recently #and if i cant draw or excitedly oc infodump what CAN i do aside from be anxious over The college thing im being anxious about?!?! #mmm i hope it resolves once this week is over :s #atlas speaks; #vent;

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

i dream, now, of a normal life with you ; suguru geto

synopsis; suguru isn’t a lightweight. this is your first time actually seeing him drunk — though maybe it shouldn’t come as a surprise that he’d be the sappy kind.

word count; 9.4k (..... i got carried away ok)

contents; suguru geto/reader, gn!reader (shoko calls u "girl" but in a "girl help" way not a gendered way), written w a no curses au in mind, sugu is a sappy emotional drunk i said what i said, sickening amounts of fluff, depictions of intoxication, reader is averse to alcohol, sugu wants to marry u so bad it makes him look silly, lots of emotions & lots of love <33

a/n; this fic has been ROTTING in my drafts for the longest time but its super precious to me and now i finally get to post it!! @softgirlgonehaywire & @hayakawalove ily ty for being interested in sappy!sugu this is a treat for u <33

the bar isn’t all that far off from your apartment.

it’s a short distance, really. walk straight ahead, until you reach the record store that suguru likes to frequent, and then take a right; a minute or two uphill, and then you’ll be able to see the blue of the sea. once you’re there, all that’s left is to look for mellow golden lighting and descend a set of stairs.

which is what you’re currently doing, popsicle in hand, loose clothes and comfortable shoes on as you wallow in the mellow summer evening. everything is blue — the dark shade of the sky, and your ice pop, pastel and sweet, tasting of pure youth. the hoodie you threw on is a rich cobalt, suguru’s in name but yours in spirit. he only wears it when you complain that it doesn’t smell like him anymore.

humming a jolly tune, you take a sharp turn, allowing the summer sensations to curl around your subconscious. blissed out and content. 

you were so, so bored — stuck at home with no one to keep you company, no one to mumble snarky commentary about the show playing on tv, no one to run their fingers through your hair while your head rests in their lap. pure torture, really, being faced with the consequences of your own actions. after you stupidly told suguru you’d be okay on your own.

he even asked you twice, just to be sure, even told you that he’d prefer you to join him on his night out. and again, you declined; because it’s been so long since he had some time alone with shoko and satoru, and you were feeling a little tired anyways. 

so he gave in. heading out, with a promise to bring back a tub of your favorite ice cream, leaving you with the apartment to yourself. did you come to regret your little white lie? maybe. possibly.

but everything worked out in the end.

a pleasant breeze caresses your skin, brushing against the apple of your cheek, and you watch as peach blossoms dance in a faraway park. cicadas cling to every tree in sight, buzzing a pleasant tune, mingling with the giddy giggles of high school students enjoying their summer vacation. it’s been raining for a couple of days; you can still smell it in the air, feel it in the low tinge of humidity clinging to your skin, still hear suguru’s insistence that you bring an umbrella with you to work — just in case.

but today, the skies were clear, and it’s late, not too humid but not too chilly. and the stars are out, glimmering in that fuzzy sea of mellow cerulean, leaking out like little marbles cast into space. falling down, down, down, close enough for you to see. from here, it looks as if they’re waving. you resist the urge to wave back.

peace. bliss. a nostalgia so vibrant you could drown in it, feel it lick at your ankles like soft sea foam.

eager to scratch a certain itch in your brain, attention span zipping from one street vendor to the pop music blasting from a couple streets away, you take your phone out from your pocket. absently scrolling through your messages, until you get to the ones shoko sent you just ten minutes ago. the ones that brought you out here, into a summer evening soon to slip into nightfall, ones that have you walking to the bar you chose not to join them at.

messages that still have you pushing back a bout of giggles, chewing lazily on your ramune ice pop with a giddy smile.

sho 🚬: come get ur man sho 🚬: he’s drunk. sho 🚬: like DRUNK drunk 

you: …… um.  you: what happened to hi? hello?? good evening???

sho 🚬: no time for that. look sho 🚬: [ image ] sho 🚬: he looks so goofy lol

unable to resist the temptation, you press the pad of your finger against the screen — opening the image attachment, just to drink in the sight once again. what you see is a certain man, slumped over in his seat, cheek smooshed against the wooden table in front of him. messy hair, no longer tied into a bun, cascading down his shoulders and back. from the little you can see of his face, his skin is flushed a light pink, and his eyes are closed, fingers still curled around an empty beer jug. 

like a sleepy puppy.

a coo tiptoes on your tongue, but you bite down on your lip in an effort to stop it, just grinning at your screen with pure adoration in your lovesick eyes. 

he’s drunk, alright. an unfamiliar sight, but not at all unwelcome. because he’s cute, terribly so, so cute that it hurts, even when he’s obviously wasted. it’s almost funny — you know their drinking habits. shoko holds her liquor so well that it’s a little horrifying, and satoru can get wasted if he has more than a sip of it. and suguru?

suguru never gets drunk. he barely even drinks. out of consideration for satoru, maybe, or you. probably both. that’s just how he is; you thought he hated fish for years, because he was always so eager to give you the best bites of the sushi rolls you ordered. turns out he was just indulging you.

so, to be frank — the idea of him suddenly being drunk is a little bit of a shocker. but it’s also kind of exciting, in a ridiculous way. new, fun, just what you need when you’re bored out of your mind.

(or maybe you’re just happy to have an excuse to go see him.)

you: NOOOO  you: MY BABY 😭😭😭 you: what did u guys DO to him???

sho 🚬: satoru and him made a bet 😐 you know how they are sho 🚬: he drank like a divorced mother of four ive never seen something so beautiful

you: …. you: have i told you that you’re both terrible

sho 🚬: u love us <33 sho 🚬: anyway he’s been asking me where u are for the past ten minutes pls come i can’t stand him sho 🚬: he’s crying.

you: HUH???????? you: WHY????????????????

sho 🚬: dude i dont know sho 🚬: please come get him he’s being so sappy that satoru’s abt to throw up

you: ???? okok 😭 you: im omw ig??

sho 🚬: girl hurry he just told me he genuinely appreciates my presence in his life 😐

an exhale — laced with deep amusement — drops from your lips and spills into the summer air. it tastes like a memory from long ago.

slipping your phone back into your pocket, you raise your gaze, searching for a glimmer of goldish light. soaking up the scent of the ocean, sparkling on the border of your peripheral. salty and sweet.

no matter how hard you try, all you can think of is that certain someone, waiting for you to pick him up. your mind keeps drifting back to the way his eyes crinkle when he laughs, the way his hair falls over his face when he leans down, the sound he makes when he stretches in the morning.

you want to see him. badly. you want him near, want to feel the familiar warmth of his presence, want to see him smile and laugh and sigh and raise his eyebrow at your antics. 

so there isn’t any time to waste. you’re walking towards that familiar set of stairs before you know it, shoes hitting the asphalt with a mantra of satisfying thuds. 

and when you step in through the opened door, you’re immediately engulfed by a sense of overflowing comfort. mellow, warm lights, the soft buzzing of static from an old radio, low citypop beats trailing through the air. the bartender by the counter gives you a curt nod in greeting, before motioning towards a certain table. it’s over in the corner, covered in beer jugs and fancy glasses, with three beauties seated around it.

satoru notices you first.

a bright grin finds its way onto his face, and he waves you over giddily, happily. barely contained excitement in the motion. shoko’s gaze follows his, flitting over to meet yours — and you think she mouths an oh, thank god, before taking another sip from her glass. she brings a hand up in greeting when you come closer, and you can’t see her smile, but there’s a crinkle to her eyes; a warmth in them that you’d never miss.

”hey, guys.”

”yo!” satoru chirps, beaming in a way that’s so distinctly him it makes you soften. he looks so comfortable in his seat, with a cocktail you know is non-alcoholic and probably too sweet for anyone but him to stomach. giggling to himself, leaning over to poke suguru’s cheek, with a teasing declaration of your chaperone is here! 

and there he is. 

the man you came here for, still slumped over in his seat, unresponsive. not for long. as the lilt of your voice reaches his ears, his eyes flutter open, in a bout of recognition — even in the drunken state he’s in. an immediate sensation of familiarity creeps into his veins, rousing him from his cozy, half-asleep stupor. 

he doesn’t even grumble over the way satoru keeps poking at his cheek, interest and attention focused solely on a certain someone. you, your presence. 

and when your eyes meet his, he lights up.

it’s precious, you think, how his eyes widen, blooming with genuine affection, so endearing you could kiss him right then and there. his face is flushed, and his hair is tousled, and the warm lighting of the bar paints him in a golden hue. so perfect for him, your star in the sky. 

a smile spreads across his lips, big and happy and warm, and you can’t help but mirror it. 

(gosh, he’s cute.)

with a dizzy kind of eagerness, suguru sits up, palms flush against the table to support his weight. he stumbles out of his seat, paying no heed to satoru’s amused huff of careful! or the rattling of fragile glass.

it only takes a few uncoordinated steps for him to reach you, where you haphazardly lean against the wall, watching him amusedly. that delighted smile never leaves his lips, as his arms go to curl around your waist, big and heavy, his jaw finding its rightful place on the curve of your shoulder. 

”baby,” he drawls, fond and affectionate. breathing you in. ”sweetheart. my angel.”

a flustered puff of laughter slips from your lips, stumbling a little under his weight. his voice is syrupy sweet, overflowing with love and adoration, soft in a way that has your knees buckling. a little raspy. murmured right into your ear, sending pleasant shivers down your spine. 

he’s too sweet for you to handle, really, even sweeter than satoru’s overpriced cocktail. and he smells the same as always; a blend between coffee grounds, cigarette smoke and rain, one that never fails to soothe you. even when it’s tangled up with a vague but vivid stench of alcohol, courtesy of the drinking he’s been doing until now. 

you crinkle your nose, but don’t let go of him, nuzzling your cheek against the side of his head. words buzzing with warmth. ”hey, sugu.”

suguru only squeezes you tighter, content to have you in his arms. finally, his world makes sense again. all he can do is bask in your voice, warmth, scent — he’s just so enamored by it all. almost in a trance, heartstrings dancing along to the beat of your presence, your very existence, that appears to him as something almost angelic. soft and familiar, something that feels right at home when it’s tucked into his embrace. where he can keep it safe.

”missed you…” he murmurs, sleepy, smearing an open mouthed kiss against the crook of your neck. ”i love you s’much…”

a chuckle. ”i love you too,” you echo, running a steady hand over his back. your voice is laced with something teasing, but awfully fond. ”you really are drunk, aren’t you?”

”mm…” he only hums, cheek pressed flush against your soft skin. ”’m sorry…” he mumbles, stifling a yawn. he sounds a little guilty, and it makes you want to coo. pull his cheek a little.

instead, you laugh. amusement vowen into the bubbly noise. ”it’s fine, sugu. c’mon — let’s go home, alright?”

at that, satoru visibly reacts, placing his glass on the table with a soft clink before getting up to stretch. he grabs suguru’s discarded jacket, letting it hang off his arm as he walks over to the two of you.

”i’ll help you carry him,” he smiles, always so dependable. so ready to be of service. maybe a little too eager to carry suguru around like a sack of potatoes. 

a smile blooms on your face, and satoru gives you a playful wink. shoko just leans back in her seat, stretching idly. it feels like home with them there.

”i’ll stay here,” she hums, a faint grin tugging at her lips. ”he’s your problem now.”

”got it.” you meet her lidded eyes, sharing an amused look as satoru tries to coax suguru away from you, pulling at his cheek while he whines and clings to the fabric of your clothing.

finally, he relents, and you look back at the table with a grin. ”see you later, sho’.”

a smile is the only response you get, but it’s enough. it’s her, the same as always, still sipping from a glass of expensive whiskey and raising her hand in a silent see you. relaxed and cool, and so very lovely. 

with one arm over satoru’s shoulder and the other clinging to your hoodie, suguru stirs.

”shoko…” he groans, craning his head to look back at her, even as satoru makes a move to leave. ”don’t drink too much. and watch out for strangers…” 

he trails off, blinking drowsily, a protective tone to his voice. worried. awfully like him. neither you nor satoru can resist the chuckle you indulge in, but shoko just rolls her hazel eyes.

”i don’t need to hear that from you,” she scoffs, tinged with amusement and what you’re almost certain is embarrassment. there’s a fondness to her snark, one you’d never miss. 

(shoko will always be shoko. you know that she appreciates suguru’s concern, even if she doesn’t want to show it.)

”alright, c’mon,” satoru quips, slapping suguru’s back with a grin. ”there, there, big guy. let’s get you home, hm?”

just as you suspected, he doesn’t let you help, doing all the heavy lifting on his own. not breaking a single sweat, flaunting his strength as he hoists suguru up the steps — while you do nothing but follow, a light jacket hanging off your arm. 

cold midnight air embraces you, slathering your cheeks with the essence of summer as your shoes meet the asphalt. satoru smiles, a low exhale escaping him, dusting off his hands. ”there we go.”

suguru stumbles towards you, no longer caged in, slumping against your shoulder with a satisfied sigh. blinking slowly, as you link arms, his muddled senses adjusting to the outside world. a pleasantly blue sky, a sun long set, and a string of lamp posts to light up the street ahead of you. artificial fireflies, watching over the town you love so dearly.

you part your lips, and a soft exhale slips out, dripping with fondness. ”thanks, satoru,” you smile, meeting his gaze.

”don’t mention it,” he waves you off, but you know he appreciates it; always eager to be praised. ”can you bring him back by yourself?”

”yeah, we’ll be fine. it’s close, anyway. don’t worry.”

a hum buzzes in his throat, and his cobalt gaze drifts upwards, to bask in the starry sky. a moment passes, and then he’s looking back at you and suguru; a soft and earnest smile playing at his lips. so sincere you want to reach out, cup his cheek, make sure he knows how loved he is.

”i’ll go back to shoko, then,” he chirps. bubbly and graceful, giddy and playful. always so lovely. ”gotta make sure she stays out of trouble.”

a chuckle. you mirror his smile. ”of course.”

and with that, your precious best friend makes a move to return to the bar, taking a decisive step away from you. before he can get too far, though, a certain hand reaches out to hold onto his sleeve — keeping him still.

satoru turns around. blinking once, then twice, in confusion; faced with none other than suguru, still slumped against you. a little out of it, sleepy and disoriented, yawning quietly, but his eyes are as clear as ever. caring and sentimental. 

his gaze cuts to the bone of things. it’s something you’ve grown used to.

”thanks, satoru,” he murmurs, letting go of said man’s shirt. the words that spill from his lips are straightforward, a little tactless, but overflowing with earnest appreciation. ”you’re my best friend.”

a moment passes. the stars burn in silence.

satoru blinks.

then he sighs, with what you know is nothing more than feigned annoyance. masking his embarrassment, the same way shoko did, the same way suguru always does. your repressed, beloved little losers. 

”yeah, yeah. i got it,” he pats suguru’s shoulder, once, twice. not looking at him. ”you’re such a sap, you know that? geez.”

a grin crawls up to rest on your lips, fresh mischief blooming in your eyes. ”not gonna call him your best friend back?” you tease, a soft tilt of your head.

satoru gives you a glare, playful, one you can’t physically see from behind his shades but still somehow sense. ”don’t add fuel to the fire,” he grins, with a halfhearted flick to your forehead.

before you can bicker further, suguru yawns, loudly, closing his eyes and nuzzling into you. you share an amused look with satoru, until he shakes his head fondly.

”take care of him, alright?”

”i will. you guys have fun!”

and at last, satoru turns on his heel, coupled with a smile and a lazy wave. but suguru calls out to him once more, unwilling to part ways without saying his piece. so sentimental, so loving it comes to him like breathing.

”bye-bye, satoru,” he slurs, voice loud enough for the entire street to hear, tired and honest. raising his arm in a lazy wave. ”i love you!”

”go home already!” satoru shouts, descending down the steps with a flush to his cheeks that you’ll tease him for later. his soft laughter is carried away by the breeze, sweet and saccharine.

(satoru will always be satoru. you know that he loves suguru back, even if he doesn’t want to say it out loud.)

with a faint chuckle, melting into the summer air, you tug on suguru’s arm. ”alright,” you chirp, looking up at him. ”let’s go!”

he seems a little more awake now, at least, trying to match your steps. meanwhile, you do what you can to support his weight; he’s stumbling a bit, but you don’t mind. if anything, his weight is a comfort, your arms linked together like a lucky charm. a safe harbour.

suguru is acting kind of like a big puppy, gazing at you with hearts in his eyes. a little meek, clinging to you, trailing after you pliantly. he’s a little dizzy, still, and he needs you to get back home in one piece. it makes you puff out your chest, stand up straighter. makes you feel protective of your 6’2 boyfriend, all toned muscle and broad shoulders, the personification of scary dog privilege. but he needs you right now.

a soft bout of laughter spills into the air, as you try to ignore his heavy stare. it’s impossible, though — so you turn your gaze to meet his own, and he practically glows under the sound of your giggles, that cheeky smile you’re wearing. ”you okay, suguru?”

his eyes soften. silently, he runs a thumb over the knots of your knuckle, smoothing down your skin, thick fingers intertwined with yours. 

he looks deep into your eyes, and a soft hum of affirmation buzzes in his throat. 

”i’m just so happy,” he grins, with a sincerity that has your heart doing flips inside your ribcage. it flutters, flutters, flutters, in the wake of his unbridled joy. it buzzes like it wants to break out.

suguru has this dreamy look on his face, one you can do nothing but admire, painted over with fluorescent moonlight and pure summer bliss. one that reminds you a little of high school rooftops, midnight road trips, what it means to be in love.

you nudge him, softly, with the arm that’s tangled up in his own. tilting your head, teasing words on the tip of your tongue. ”you know, i never took you for a sappy drunk.”

suguru's only response is a cute little mmrn, steps heavy as he leans on you for support. trying his best to carry himself, not wanting to inconvenience you, but it’s just a little tough. especially when he feels this soft, this grateful — this blessed.

a giddy, dreamy smile tugs at his lips. his amber gaze travels up, towards the little pale dots of star clusters all across the night sky, gleaming like milk poured over rich coffee. then he exhales; a soft, blissful little sound. ”i’m so lucky.”

a moment passes, silently. in the distance, cicadas buzz. with a patient smile, you admire him, the reflection of starlight in his eyes. suguru has this forlorn look, etched into his expression, like he’s seeing something that isn’t quite there.

”i have satoru and shoko…” he mumbles, just loud enough for you to hear. as if he’s tasting the words on his tongue, as if he can’t quite believe them himself. that’s how lucky he feels, sometimes.

a nod. ”they love you a bunch, you know?”

(they do. they’re both horrible at saying it out loud, but you know they do. you know that they love suguru, just as much as he loves them, even if none of them are good at putting it into words. perhaps they don’t really even need to, in the first place.)

suguru mirrors the soft nod of your head, bangs falling over his eyes as he does. ”and i love them, too.” his smile grows. ”they’re my best friends.”

absently, you reach a hand out, brushing away the strands of hair obscuring his vision. and suguru stirs, his gaze shifting until it falls on you. like a moth to a flame. there’s something indescribable in his eyes, soft and heavy and tender and true.

”— and i have you.”

a stutter of your heartbeat, a jolt throughout your chest. his stare almost burns, but you can’t avert your gaze — suguru looks positively lovesick. admiring you with a dreamy gaze, as if he can’t believe you’re real. 

he reaches a hand out; cradling your face with one big palm, the rough pads of his fingers smoothing down your skin so very gently. smearing his fondness from your jaw to your cheekbone, so loving your breath hitches in the back of your throat. 

a soft, content sigh spills into the air, like a prayer that doesn’t need any words. his smile is serene.

”my angel.” 

as the words fall, that peaceful smile of his changes shape, shifting into a big, giddy grin. it lights up his whole face. a chuckle leaves his lips, content and delighted. ”i’m the luckiest guy in the world.”

and for a moment, you fear that your heart will stop beating entirely. frozen, listening to the lullaby of your heartbeat resounding in your ears. 

suguru has always been frighteningly good at flustering you — but isn’t this a little unfair? you clear your throat, hoping to regain some composure. it’s tough, though. your words could never measure up to his, could never flow as freely, but they’re honest. wholly and thoroughly. and maybe that’s enough. 

”we’re the luckiest in the world, too, then,” you echo, smiling, words barely above a whisper. willing yourself to meet his gaze. ”since we have you.”

suguru looks into your eyes. there’s starlight inside them, he thinks, shining brightly, gleaming in the dark. with the hazy filter of intoxication clouding his mind, it’s all he can think. you’re his northern star, his lighthouse. his one and only saving grace.

(you’re so, so pretty.)

a pause. after a silent moment, spent etching your features into his retinas, suguru tilts his head. his expression is unreadable.

— he boops your nose.

you blink. once, twice, caught entirely off guard; and suguru giggles. soft, giddy little breaths falling from his lips like marbles, strewn over the sand of a warm beach. his eyes are crinkled at the edges, and his smile is sweet, meeting your surprised gaze with a honeyed coo. ”you’re so cute, baby.”

silence. you look up at him. 

then you sigh, exasperated, more flustered than you’d like to admit. god. okay, he’s really out of it. for some reason, you still thought you could get a good one-liner in, but of course he had to ruin that by being a little tease.

you grab onto his bicep. gaze fixed straight ahead, giving it a tug. your steps are more decisive now, and suguru follows you happily. ”alright, alright. c’mon,” you beckon, slightly gruff. ”we’re almost there.”

when you finally reach the familiar front door of your apartment, you exhale a deep sigh, laced with pure relief. limbs tired from dragging suguru up the stairs, mind muddled and sleepy and senses practically engulfed by a man still clinging to you like his life depends on it.

after fumbling with your keys and hearing the click of the lock, you take a victorious step over the threshold, and a familiar scent greets you. soothing, comforting, a blend between fresh laundry and leftover curry and blooming hydrangeas. filling your senses with a fervent kind of bliss. of course, suguru’s does the same; intimately intertwined with the scent of home. that everlasting, never-changing blend. 

with him clinging to you like this, it’s almost suffocating — but you truly don’t mind. suguru’s warm, and sweet, and being close to him like this makes you feel at peace. his hands rest on your hips, his jaw on your shoulder, and he adamantly refuses to let go of you for even a second. it’d be annoying if he wasn’t so cute, if he wasn’t suguru geto, if you weren’t so horrendously weak for him.

what you don’t know is that suguru has an agenda. one that isn’t just i want to hug the love of my life, although partially that as well. suguru has a plan, one he’s been absentmindedly dreaming of for the past five minutes; he’s a man on a mission.

but he’s patient. always has been, always for you. so he waits, and waits, for you to hang his jacket up, for you to kick your shoes off your feet. and when you’re finally, finally finished, suguru leans in to kiss you.

— you block his mouth with the palm of your hand.

a moment passes. silent, almost tense. in his stupor, suguru’s mind can’t quite seem to comprehend the situation before him; he doesn’t understand why he isn’t pressing a kiss to your lips, right now, why he’s kissing the skin of your palm. he doesn’t understand why you look so troubled, a faint guilt simmering in your eyes. he just doesn’t understand.

all he can do is blink, dumbly, surprised. a question written on his features clear as day. 

”well, it’s just…” you sputter, sheepishly. avoiding his gaze, a little guilty. ”you know. since you’ve been drinking, and all…”

and it hurts, you think. it hurts a lot more than it should. it hurts to reject him, hurts to see the way he deflates at your clarification. like a big kicked puppy. like you just threatened to throw him out into the street.

suguru removes your hand, gently, holding it in his own as he speaks. those amber eyes are downcast, and a soft pout rests on his lips. the sight alone feels like a dagger to your chest.

”but…” he frowns, voice awfully meek. he looks so sad. ”i wanna kiss you…”

a soft sigh leaves your lips, before you can think to hold it in. oh, he’s being so unfair. guilt clings to your mind, an itch you yearn to scratch, and all you want is to kiss his pout away. but you really, really don’t want to kiss his alcohol-soaked lips.

so you settle for the second best option.

”’m sorry, sugu,” you coo, reaching a hand out to cradle his cheek. he leans into your touch, still pouting, and you tug a little at his bottom lip. wasting no time in closing the narrow distance between you.

the kisses you press against his skin are soft. peppering kisses all across his face; ghosting your lips along his jaw, trailing towards his cheekbones, and settling on his forehead. tiny little pecks, wherever you can reach. your voice is soft, muffled into his skin between butterfly kisses. ”tomorrow, okay?” 

and suguru seems to brighten up a little, melting under the contact, exhaling in pure bliss. he fervently returns the treatment, planting open mouthed kisses all over your face, respecting your wishes and avoiding your lips. they’re a little sloppy, but you don’t mind.

it does make you a little flustered, though. with his palms cradling your face, engulfing you, there’s nothing you can do except drown in his affection, the love he showers you with. it tickles — and suguru’s smile only grows, at the sound of your soft giggles. his cheeks are starting to hurt.

the state he’s in is just a little bit hazy. despite his initial dejection, he no longer minds that he can’t feel your lips against his, disappointment warded off by your smile and laughter alone. he thinks you’re so, so cute, and all he wants is to kiss you forever. 

but you have other plans.

and before you know it, you’re both curled up in bed, limbs all tangled up beneath the blankets, bodies pressed together as suguru cages you in. he squeezes you tightly, hugging you close, practically melting into you. usually, it’d be so easy to fall asleep like this. with suguru cradling you, covering your body with his own, warm and safe. he’s like a furnace. 

but right now, it’s a little tough. you’re kept awake by open mouthed, ticklish kisses pressed against your skin, supplied by the love of your life. it’s sweet, but he’s being far too distracting — as soon as your consciousness begins to fade into the fuzzy realm of sleep, he leaves a sloppy kiss against your collarbone, and you’re jolted awake once more. 

”suguuu,” you whine, dragging his name out with childish inclination. ”we need to sleep…”  

”sorry,” he only murmurs, muffled into your skin. he doesn’t stop, though, planting a wet smooch on your cheek, and then another. you squirm a little in his hold, and he emits a shaky breath. ”jus’ love you so much…”

suguru knows that he needs to stop. he knows that both of you need to sleep, that you need to rest up. that he needs to recover from the intoxicated state he’s fully aware that he’s in — but he just can’t seem to follow through with it. every cell in his body burns with a certain desire, a need to shower you in love, and it’s unendurable. with every kiss, every giggle he manages to pull from your lips, suguru’s heart fills up just a little more. 

your presence surrounds him, like a weighted blanket, and he clings to it with a desperation he never knew before you. 

in the midst of his feverish consciousness, you’re all his muddled mind can think about. the way you fit together with him like a puzzle piece, like he was formed in the shape of someone meant to hold you. like you were formed in the shape of his embrace. with you pressed up against him, limbs tangled with his, everything feels so right.

but it’s so overwhelming. 

you’re so, so close, so close he’s practically engulfed by your scent, your touch, everything that makes his heart burn with devotion. it’s beating so viscerally in his ribcage, stirring the protective instinct inside him; he just wants you to stay close, by his side, wants to keep you safe and happy. wants to make you feel loved. 

suguru’s heart feels wet and raw and bare, fully exposed for you to see. beating just for you.

with the alcohol inside his veins, and the nostalgia of the summer evening on his mind, everything weighs on him just a little too heavily. everything feels just a little too much. every sensation, every emotion, every sappy thought. all of it together is almost too much for him to handle.

all he can think of is you. how lucky he is, to have met you, to have gotten to know you. how much you’ve changed him, changed him for the better, how much of him is directly tied to your existence.

suguru never truly appreciated his name until you came into his life. it was always no more than a simple fact, a gift from his parents that he hadn’t asked for. something natural, that he didn’t question, didn’t think about. 

but you say his name with such warmth.

he wants to hear you say it, over and over again, forever. suguru — in that sweet, lovely voice of yours. better yet, just sugu, a cutesy, silly nickname he could never bring himself to actually hate. he just wants to hear you call out to him, with that warmth of yours, the one that never fails to soothe him. no matter how tired he is, how stressed. how much everything else weighs down on him. 

at the end of the day, he’s simply your sugu. and that’s all he ever really wants to be.

with a hazy filter clouding his senses, coaxing him into closing his eyes, suguru should give in. he should fall asleep, let you fall asleep. but he can’t bring himself to stop thinking about it; he just loves you so wholly. who you are, what you do. as an equal, an individual, a little galaxy tucked into a body made of flesh and blood. no matter what you’re doing, no matter where you are. 

and right now, you’re here, with him. curled up in bed, in your shared apartment, inhaling the same air, exhaling at the same time. by his side, when you could be anywhere else in the world.

his heart is yours. that’s all suguru can bring himself to think, the only coherent thought he can cling to and echo in his head. his heart is yours. forever and ever. 

he makes no attempt to stop the tears from pooling in his eyes, even as he feels them cling to his lashes, even as his breathing clogs up in the back of his throat. they’re proof of his devotion, his carefully nurtured love. growing over the years, into something almost sacred, a kind of faith. something so fervent he wouldn’t dare deny himself of feeling it.

he can’t hold in a faint sniffle, either, just barely audible. one that breaks your heart in two. it aches, aches, aches. suguru is gazing at you with glassy eyes, a sight you aren’t used to seeing — but he also looks so genuinely glad. his tears aren’t ones of sadness. you know, because you know him. 

”aw, honey…” you coo, the pads of your fingers reaching out to cradle his cheek. despite your efforts, your voice wavers when you speak, little more than a whisper. ”don’t cry... you’ll make me cry, too.”

suguru places his larger palm over yours, choking on another sniffle. the sight renders you completely helpless — you want so desperately to stop his tears from falling, but a part of you is too touched to speak. too mesmerized by how beautiful he is, translucent tears illuminated by softly flickering moonrays, lashes glimmering like shooting stars.

all you can do is smooth a thumb right under his eye, wiping away a stray tear with enough tenderness to stitch his heart back together. suguru emits a shaky breath.

”’m sorry,” he sniffles, closing his eyes. nuzzling into the crook of your neck. ”i’m just so happy… love you so much… you mean so, so much to me, i…”

an exhale, a little breathless, tears soaking through the material of the shirt you’re wearing. his shirt. that realization makes him cry even more, a shuddering breath that shatters like glass when it drops from his tongue. 

and then, in a voice so quiet you barely hear it, a soft whisper worth a million words:

”i don’t know what i’d do without you.”

and it hurts. your heart aches so sincerely, thorns curling around your ribcage, because suguru is crying, and he’s telling you all this. with such an honest intonation that you don’t dare doubt him, even for a second. heavy thumps of blood rush through your veins; he’s still clinging to you, sniffling into your neck, and you’re so in love with him that you almost can’t comprehend it.

all you can do is press a kiss to his shoulder, chaste and tender, and hug him just a little tighter. echoing his words, in earnest, desperately trying to keep your voice from breaking apart. ”i love you, too. more than anything.” a sigh, full of wonder. little butterfly kisses scattered across the expanse of his neck. ”you mean the world to me. honestly.”

with a smile against his skin, you hope so tenderly that the soft kisses will comfort him, will stop the tears from falling. 

”my sweet boy,” you murmur, lovingly, because he is. the sweetest boy you’ll ever know. suguru shudders when you press your lips against his jaw. ”i’m so, so lucky.”

with the combined efforts of your kisses, the alcohol slumbering inside his veins, and the tears running down his cheeks, suguru begins to feel awfully tired. sinking into sleep’s embrace, like a sailor lost at sea. comforted by the glimmer of a lighthouse, just out of reach.

everything feels right. he’s safe, and happy, and in love. so hopelessly, blissfully in love.

the exhaustion creeps up on him, tidal waves embracing a shore, beckoning him into closing his weary eyes. a yawn leaves his lips, and he shifts a little in your hold. you’re smoothing down the back of his head, almost protectively, and sleep is only a flicker away for the both of you. with the last of his strength, suguru snuggles just a little further into you, nose pressed up against your neck, close enough that he feels the flutter of your heartbeat. 

”wanna be with you forever,” he murmurs, sleepily, stifling another bout of yawns. his smile is sweet and dreamy. ”gonna marry you one day…”

a moment passes.

for a second, you think your heart does actually cease beating entirely.

swallowing a gulp, you allow yourself the luxury of an inhale — and fresh air fills your lungs. grounding. all you can hear is the rapid beating of your own heart, heavy thumps reverberating in your ears. warmth flows through your entire body.

marry.

the word is spoken so casually, so sincerely, as if he’s said it countless times before. as if he’s repeated it, over and over again in his mind, just to get used to the idea. as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. marriage. something so foreign, so scary, enough to send shivers down every narrow of your skeleton. such a large step to take. 

(but suguru says it with such tenderness.)

”… okay,” you whisper, at last. breathless. ”i’ll be waiting, then.”

there’s nothing else to say. you don’t know if suguru is even conscious enough to hear you, let alone understand the full weight of your words, of his own words. but you don’t mind. 

a soft smile lingers on your lips, as you stroke his hair, mind hazy and limbs heavy. nuzzling your cheek against the side of his head, full of affection. dripping from your hands down to the column on his throat, through his windpipe, down to his heart.

”goodnight, sugu.” you press a kiss to his messy hair, tender and chaste. ”i love you.”

an incoherent mutter leaves his lips, in response, one you can’t quite make out — but you don’t need to. because you already know what it means, in the same way you know that the sky is blue.

(an echo buried deep within his subconscious, voiced without effort, as easy as breathing.

i love you, too.)

the sizzling of a pan and the whirring of a coffee machine form a beautiful morning symphony, bouncing off the walls of your kitchen. to your ears, and your still sleepy brain, it’s a soothing sound — coaxing soft little melodic hums from the depths of your throat.

with such a tantalizing aroma in the air, a blend between espresso and pancake batter, you can’t help but buzz with a mellow, groggy kind of joy.

honestly, you're beginning to understand suguru’s fondness for the morning hours. waking up to his soft snores and content expression was more than enough to give you the energy you needed to get out of bed; all sleepy and relaxed and pretty, with hazy morning sunrays kissing up his bare skin, caressing his messy bedhead. 

a rare sight, awfully precious. a part of you wanted to stay in bed and admire him all morning, but the thought of taking care of him coaxed you into leaving. it’s the least you could do, really — after seeing him so sincere, so open and vulnerable. 

hopefully, his headache won’t be too brutal when he wakes up. you left some hangover pills on the nightstand, courtesy of shoko’s advice: just get him ibuprofen and coffee. works like a charm. are you a little worried about her nonchalance? maybe. but you trust her judgement. they’re a handful, but you love them — even when they’re drunk or hungover. 

which is why you’re standing in the kitchen, engulfed by the morning sunlight, in front of a sizzling pan. trying your very best not to burn the pancakes you’re making, patiently waiting for the coffee to be done. 

in your blissful stupor, caught up with thoughts of suguru and breakfast and forevers, you don’t notice another presence coming up behind you.

two arms wrap around your waist, and a jaw attaches itself to the curve of your shoulder. you startle, a little, jolting at the contact — but then you recognize that telltale scent, the familiar weight of his arms, and immediately melt into the embrace.

suguru breathes out a raspy chuckle, amused at your surprise. 

a sigh slips from your lips, content. ”good morning,” you hum, placing the palm of your hand on his forearm. suguru shifts a little, getting more comfortable as he leans against you. tenderly, not too much weight. he’s delicate like that.

”g’morning,” he rasps, leftover sleep clinging to the syllables. the usual smoothness of his voice is coupled with a deep, rough kind of tilt, one that always accompanies it in the morning. your heartbeat picks up, silently.

suguru smiles. dreamy, giddy, because you just looked so pretty, in the morning light, hair still a tad messy. humming happily, swaying slightly side to side. so irresistible. he’s beginning to understand why you love sleeping in so much; getting to wrap his arms around you like this, instead of the other way around, doesn’t feel bad at all.

he squeezes you just a little tighter, hoping it’ll convey his gratitude. there are holes in his memory, last night no more than a blurry sequence of still images, but some bits and pieces remain intact. he remembers getting drunk in a way he hasn’t since he made that bet with satoru back in high school — and he remembers that you were there to take care of him.

a smile tugs at his lips. a little giddy, butterflies erupting in his chest. he’s so damn lucky.

”thanks for taking care of me yesterday, sweetheart.”

a hum. you smile, sheepishly, patting his arm. ”don’t need to thank me for that. how do you feel?”

suguru smiles. you feel it, against your skin, a chaste kiss on your neck. ”better.”

the low purring of the coffee machine has stopped, but the sizzling of the pan remains. from beyond the opened windows, you can hear the chirping of cicadas, melodic and serene. singing a summery tune. both of you soak in the preciousness of the moment, the fragile silence, before suguru breaks it.

”everything from last night is kinda fuzzy,” he admits, clearing his throat. just a tad sheepish. you simply hum, a low noise of acknowledgement, and he continues. ”i don’t really remember anything… ’m sorry, baby. i hope i didn’t make you uncomfortable.”

your lips curl up into a tiny smile. such a sweetheart — always worrying about you. always so caring and attentive. eager to reassure him, you smooth over the skin of his arm with your thumb. ”not at all.”

then you’re taking a couple steps back, moving from the stove, and suguru follows. you turn yourself around to meet his gaze, his arms still attached to your waist, a comforting weight.

a grin blooms on your lips, a little teasing, and a flicker of mischief shines in your eyes. ”you were cute, you know.”

suguru blinks, before emitting a low chuckle. a raspy little thing. ”was i?” he drawls, as you brush his bangs away from his face. 

”mhm,” you chirp, eyes crinkled as they meet his own. you just can’t help but want to tease him, a little bit. just a smidge. ”kept going on and on about how much you love us.”

hands moving to cup his face, you squeeze his cheeks softly. and suguru lets you, too tired to resist, only giving you a lazy raise of his brow. there’s a sense of amusement in his eyes, and something in you knows he likes the attention. your teasing words buzz with endearment, akin to a purr. ”my sweet lil’ sugu.”

all he does is lean into your touch, allowing himself to melt into the tenderness of the physical contact. even as you pull at his cheek, earning you a very gentle pinch to your side. but he lets you have your fun. you’re warm, and sweet, and he’s so in love with you he’d probably let you tug his body around however you please.

still, your words leave him just slightly perplexed. he’s still smiling with half-lidded eyes when he asks you to elaborate, basking in the feeling of your thumb smoothing over his cheekbone. ”us?”

your grin widens, by a tad, something deeply amused glimmering in the depths of your iris. ”yep,” you answer, popping the p. for some reason, suguru dreads the teasing edge to your voice. ”me, and shoko, and satoru.”

a moment passes. he stiffens, for a second or two, mind processing the words. then he groans, softly, squeezing his eyes shut.

it makes you laugh, soft and amused, and he can’t help but smile along. despite the dreadful realization you present him with. no wonder he was met with so many notifications when he tapped at the screen of his phone — he didn’t read through any of them, but now he’s apprehensive to do so at all. shoko and satoru can be so goddamn obnoxious when they feel as if they have blackmail on him.

he can see it now, in his mind’s eye; shoko nagging him to run her errands, satoru reminding him of his words every time they have a slight disagreement. 

(grab me a coffee. three shots of espresso, one cube of sugar. got it?)

slacker.

(we both know i’m right. don’t be so stubborn, suguru! it’s okay to be wrong sometimes.)

asshole.

(c’mon. you said you loved me, right?

so mean. and here i thought you loved me!)

idiots.

(he does love them. more than anything. even when they’re being absolutely insufferable.)

suguru just sighs, deep and fatigued, already anticipating his doom. ”they’re never gonna let me live it down, are they?”

a giggle slips from your lips, and his heart flutters helplessly. ”probably not. my condolences.”

another sigh. it only makes your smile widen. there’s something awfully delighted, in your eyes, as you cradle his face in your hands. ”well, i thought you were very sweet!”

”yeah, yeah…” he mutters, vaguely amused. placing one of his large palms over your hand, where it rests on his cheek. ”i won’t be doing that again anytime soon.”

a chuckles bubbles up from within your throat. ”aww,” you pout, giving way to a teasing grin. ”that’s a shame. i wanted to hear you talk about how much you love me again.”

suguru blinks. 

then he smiles. a very particular smile, characteristic, one you’ve come to associate solely with him. resting somewhere in the intersection between a soft grin and a teasing smirk. a flicker of mischief shines in his eyes, and you realize your mistake.

you can tease suguru all you want; but he'll always turn the tables on you, at the end of the day.

”oh?” he chuckles, fondly, thumb smoothing over the lines of your hand. his eyes gleam, looking straight into yours, shining with something mildly devilish. ”i don’t need to get drunk to tell you that, baby.”

in a smooth motion, one you can’t help but silently envy, suguru intertwines his fingers with yours and brings your hand to his lips. he never once breaks eye contact, gaze heavy as he basks in your flustered expression, planting a soft kiss against your knuckle. reverent.

”i love you. more than anything,” he purrs, lips still lingering on your skin. warm enough to burn. ”you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

a pause. heat crawls up your spine, and a flush rises to your cheeks. you couldn’t stop it if you tried.

”my everything,” he continues, intent on flustering you as much as humanly possible. voice low and smooth, honeyed and deep, and worst of all; terribly earnest. lips trailing over your knuckles, against every knot, so soft that you barely feel it. ”my entire world.”

”okay, okay!” you sputter, an embarrassed hue to your cheeks, your gaze landing on the windowpane to your right. his stare is just too heavy, too deeply in love. overwhelming. ”point taken. nevermind.”

suguru laughs, genuine and full. warm and amused, deep and real, and you catch yourself thinking that you don’t want to go a single day without hearing it. even if it’s at your own expense.

a coo rests on his the tip of his tongue, but he bites it back, opting to lean forward instead. he trails the pads of his fingers along your jaw, touch like a butterfly, lifting your chin up ever so slightly. then he closes the distance between you. 

in your throat, your breath hitches.

— but he doesn’t kiss you. suguru stops right in front of your lips, so close you can feel his breath on your skin, taking a moment to simply look into your eyes. and despite how flustered the close proximity makes you, you can’t bring yourself to look away. heart fluttering madly, a string of staccatos against your parted ribs.

a tilt of his head. amber eyes gleaming, crinkled and fond. ”can i kiss you, now?” he asks, grinning softly. hand smoothing down your hip, big and warm, teasing. ”i made sure to brush away all the alcohol. or do you still not want to?”

you pause. 

”hey, what happened to not remembering anything?” you pout, narrowing your eyes. the corner of suguru’s bottom lip twitches upwards.

but he only shrugs, feigning nonchalance, a playful glint in his eyes. ”guess i was just that disappointed.”

a giggle flows from your lips. he drinks it in, gazing at you with pure contentment.

”alright, alright... c’mere,” you coo, smile honeyed and sweet. tracing your fingertips along his jaw, brushing a silky strand of hair behind his ear. you take in the sight of him, meeting his lovesick gaze. he squeezes at your hips softly, a little impatient — so you finally lean in.

suguru’s lips are warm, when they meet yours. they taste like sunlight, devoid of any alcoholic flavour, just like he so kindly assured you of. and it’s a little amusing, the thought of him in front of the bathroom sink — desperately scrubbing his teeth, just to get his kissing privileges back. such a dork. 

he’s your dork, though.

suguru sighs into the kiss, smiling giddily, satisfied at last. a sound you can’t help but mirror. he deepens it, ever so slightly, fingers squeezing gently at the plush of your waist. a hum of approval buzzes in your throat, and his smile only grows.

when he pulls away, that smile is all you can see, along with the ever so slight flush to his cheeks. a hint of peach dusting his skin, framed by the sunrays caressing his jaw, highlighting his handsome features. breathtaking. 

before you have a chance to protest, he’s leaning in again, to press one more chaste kiss to your lips. your heartbeat picks up.

everything finally feels just right.

the warmth of the sizzling pan, the fragrance of freshly made coffee and now-burnt pancakes. the light of the morning sun, scattered across the open space of your apartment, splotches of life painting everything in a heavenly glow. the love in the air, all soft and light and comfortable.

domestic bliss. with suguru, who never seems to change, no matter how many years go by. if you could live in this moment for the rest of your life, forever and ever, you’re sure you’d die happy.

and wow, is that a heavy word. forever. 

(but suguru makes it feel so very, very light.)

forever feels a lot more real, like this. cradled in the midst of a drowsy morning, bumping elbows with the man you love most, after getting to take care of him in his most vulnerable state. accepting every part of him, and having him accept you just as fervently. 

just this moment alone is worth far more than you could ever comprehend. 

suguru, with his warm hands, his familiar embrace. your shared laughter, bouncing off the walls of the kitchen as you try in vain to save your scorched pancakes. and his smile, his fervent devotion, coaxing him into eating them even though they’re burnt at the edges and don’t taste even a quarter as good as his. because you made them, for him, and that makes them taste sweeter than anything.

you stare at him, from across the table, admiring the sight you’ve grown so used to; suguru, with his slightly tousled hair, mug in hand and smile painted on his handsome face. drowned in sunlight, pink petals flitting in through the opened window. you don’t want a single day to ever pass without you seeing this. what does that mean, exactly? you think you know. 

it means forever.

(forever, forever, forever. what a pretty word.)

marriage. you think of it, again, let it linger in the depths of your skull, bounce around until you grow just a little more used to it. and it’s a scary thought, for sure. a terrifying thought, even, something so foreign that it makes you nervous. but you truly wouldn’t mind doing this forever — not one bit. not if it’s with him.

and, unbeknownst to you, maybe that promise of forever isn’t all that far off.

maybe it’s only a couple rooms away, hidden within the depths of a certain drawer, until suguru finally gets the courage to bring it out. and maybe, just maybe — that day isn’t all that far off, either.

(suguru smiles at you, from across the table. he thinks you look ethereal, sipping from your morning coffee, blinking tiredly. so sweet and angelic.

all he can think of is forever.)

#finalllyyyyyyy took the time to finish this r u proud of me 👉👈 #im very very soft for this sugu in particular :< kinda takes place in the same universe as the breakfast sugu fic !!!! #he’s ur smitten husband-to-be <333 i love to see suguru geto thrive and be happy i think being a househusband could save him #geto x reader #geto x y/n #geto x you #jjk fluff #geto fluff #geto suguru x reader #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n

[sugrhigh]

THE BOY IS MINE - ( m.s )

REQUESTED**

summary- after years of friendship, you’ve seen matt date people before, but none of them have been as bad as this new one. you’ve never interfered with any of the girls in the past, but one night she takes it too far and your true feelings come out.

warnings- cursing, unprotected sex (pretend ur on birth control but also wrap it before you tap it), choking, cheating, dom!matt, it’s smut with a plot guys are we surprised (read at ur own fucking discretion PLEASE!)

a/n: thank you @stonermattsgf for the request!! i fucking loved this concept and the song eats down i hope i did u some justice <3 the touch it chris fic will be coming too cuz im fuckin with that song as well (if you weren’t tagged it wouldn’t let me tag you, i’m sorry!!)

@fawnchives @teapartyprincess4two @sturnioloco @mattinside @l9vesick @sturnsblunt @ev3rgreenxtrees @wh0resstuff @matthewsmocktails @cherrypostsposts @bxbynyah7 @seababehh @sturnsfav @mattsluv @sturniolossss @melanch0lybby @sturniolos-blog @lustfulslxt @sturnioloobssesd @ginswife @amypull @vivianalovesmatt @st4niolos @sturnioloobessed @sturnlova @bigbeefybitch @minhyucks @iheart-zegras @vicsguitarr @melonjollyranche @hearts4matty @vickyzloserz @user8000000 @xoxo4chrisss @unfilteredassmf @mattsbiggesthoe @chrisstopherfilmed @st3rniolo @goldengrapejuice @luv2matt @vsangel-starbies @mikaelabutterfield @mattnchrisworld @bluesturniolo333 @wurlibydominicfike @kp07on @hayleyreadsblog

in no universe did you expect to be pining after one of your best friends.

it had always been strictly platonic between you and matt, aside from a little harmless flirting over the years. you loved him and his brothers so much that you never wanted to mess anything up, or complicate things when the dynamic was already perfect.

but as much as you’re close with each of them, you know you’ve always understood matt on a deeper level. you share the same goals, the same fears, even the same taste in music and movies.

he’s always been the first person to check in, the only one who can read your mood like the back of his hand, the guy who cheers you up and lets you cry on his shoulder when things are shitty.

despite these sweet gestures, you’ve both had your fair share of relationships and flings while being best friends. none of them have ever bothered you before, and you’ve always tried to be respectful and kind to whichever girl he picks.

that is, until now.

matt is sitting across from you on the couch in their living room, slight frown etched on his face. his girlfriend, maya, has her legs sprawled across his lap comfortably, arms linked like she’s claiming him.

her eyes are practically locked on you. you don’t blame her; she’s well aware that you’re not her biggest fan.

all she does is complain about all of the things she doesn’t like about matt. last time she hung out with you guys, she was bitching about the fact that he kissed her in public at a party, as if she was worried he was scaring off other guys.

when he buys her flowers, they’re the wrong ones. if he takes her to dinner, she whines about the food. she’ll even criticize his clothes, demanding that they match and he hides the tattoos. to her, he can’t do anything right, even though he’s incredible just the way he is.

so it drives you absolutely insane watching the way she walks all over matt, all over his brothers, even you. it’s been two months of this agony, and you can’t believe it’s even lasted this long.

you spend nearly every day thinking about how much better you could treat him. every time he touches you, no matter how briefly, your skin burns in desire. it’s selfish to want someone who’s taken, and you’re well aware of that.

but you just love matt, you know him. and he deserves better. maybe it’s you, maybe it’s not. but it’s certainly not maya.

“give it to me, fuckhead.” chris’s voice rips you out of your trance, and you snap your head toward the middle of the U-shaped sofa.

he’s currently fighting nick for the remote, who slaps the side of his arm rather hard. chris lets go, only to pull his brother into a headlock seconds later. nick lets out a yelp of surprise, jamming an elbow into his side to get him to stop.

in all the commotion, you decide to grab the remote for yourself, a wide smile settling across your features as you take it into your palm.

they both notice quickly, groaning in protest as you wave it at them tauntingly.

“too slow! now i get to pick, idiots.” you tease.

“c’mon, i just went to war for that thing.” nick complains, kicking your leg half-heartedly, but you just shake your head.

“snooze you lose.”

you scroll through your options, trying to pay no mind to the way maya is whispering to matt for so long she could be reciting the bible. then your eyes land on a title that makes you pause, chuckling a little to yourself.

“oh no way, they have fucking cocaine bear on here?” chris cackles.

nick looks rather amused himself, raising his eyebrows like he’s intrigued. “i mean, i’m game.”

you glance over at matt, who’s already looking at you with a grin on his face. he mentioned the movie to you a little while ago, and how he just had to see how stupid it was eventually.

“why would we waste our time watching this shit? isn’t it supposed to be awful?” maya chimes from beside him, and your gaze narrows in on her.

“it’ll be funny, you know, ‘cause it’s so bad.” you reply, trying to keep your voice light and friendly.

she tilts her head to the side slightly, studying you with disapproving eyes. “yeah, i’m not so sure about trusting your taste. i mean, that god-awful outfit is just one example.”

the air seems to be sucked out of the room as you grip your sweats self-consciously. nobody moves, nobody speaks. you feel the anger flare up in your veins as you look at matt, wondering if he’s going to step in like he should.

but he doesn’t. in fact, he’s avoiding your gaze altogether. so you square your shoulders and turn your focus back to the girl you dislike so much. you’re done with the passive aggressive comments, with all of the bullshit glares and insults.

you’re done letting her bulldoze you. if matt wants to go through that, fine. but he doesn’t have to take everyone down with him by subjecting them to maya’s presence.

“well, you seem to be the only one who has a problem with my taste, so maybe you should just leave.” you say calmly, smiling sarcastically at the end because you can’t help it.

her mouth pops open, and you can hear chris and nick trying to stifle their gasps and chuckles. even the corner of matt’s lips turn up, which makes you wonder.

maya turns to look at her boyfriend, completely astonished. “are you seriously going to let her talk to me like that?”

he seems conflicted as he briefly looks your direction, clearing his throat to buy some time. you tilt an eyebrow, crossing your arms like you’re just waiting for him to pick his side.

she may have asked the question, but now you’re dying to know the answer.

“maya is right. and, uh, i think you should apologize.” matt fumbles with his words, unable to speak to you directly.

you feel the fury work its way up your face, and you force yourself to blink away the burning sensation of frustrated tears. maya looks far too satisfied, and you want to slap the smirk off of her face.

but you know you can’t lay hands on her, so you decide your words will have to be your knives.

“you know what, i am sorry,” you begin, raising your hands in surrender.

they’re both a bit surprised by this change in direction, so after a brief pause, you continue.

“i’m really sorry that you’re dating a stuck up bitch. i’m sorry that she’s constantly taking advantage of your kindness. i’m sorry that she treats you like shit, that she talks down to you like you’re a child, that she’s never satisfied with the things you do. and i’m especially sorry that you continue to let her, because you can do so much better.”

if maya’s eyeballs could pop out of her skull, you would imagine it would be exactly like how she looks right now. matt is also slack jawed beside her, and you can’t be near him any longer.

so you stand up, turning to leave the boy you love so much without another word.

the fresh night air of spring is a relief once you step out the front door, and you try to let it calm you as you hustle toward your car. you can already feel your phone buzzing in your back pocket as you move, presumably nick and chris.

you hope they’re not angry. it’s bad enough knowing that you’ve royally fucked things up with matt, but you couldn’t bare it if all three of them hated you.

you practically toss yourself into the drivers seat, slamming the door closed with a force that shakes the entire vehicle. you’re peeling out of the driveway before you can even reflect on the consequences of your actions, speeding home as if your life depended on it.

your ringtone continues to erupt as you drive along the backroads, but you force yourself to ignore it for the time being.

only once you throw the car into park in your own driveway do you check the messages, scrolling through the numerous notifications. unsurprisingly most of them are from nick and chris like you presumed, wondering if you’re alright and applauding you for finally standing up to the wicked witch of the west.

for a brief moment, their kind words make you feel better.

but then your eyes catch a contact that you actually don’t expect; matt’s. you stare at your device, throat going completely dry. a missed call and two texts.

matt

i’m coming over

don’t bother saying no, im already on my way

that was five minutes ago, which means he’s not too far behind you. you tear out of your car and across the yard, throwing the door open carelessly.

your heart is still slamming against your ribcage, and fear crawls up your throat as you press your back to the wood, kicking your flip flops off in the general direction of the coat rack.

your mind flashes to the idea of him yelling at you, which you suppose would be somewhat warranted. you’ve seen matt angry on a couple of occasions, and you can’t imagine he has anything kind to say to you right now.

you pace the foyer as you wait for his arrival, picking at the beds of your fingernails anxiously.

and then it happens; the loud knock on the front door, followed by another series of harsh slams.

impatient motherfucker.

you straighten up as your palm wraps around the knob, sucking in a breath before pulling it open to reveal a rather disheveled matt.

he’s breathing heavy, hair messy as if he’s been tugging at it for the entire drive. his earrings glint in the porch light as he stares at you like he’s trying to commit every feature to memory, wetting his lips hungrily.

“matt—”

you barely get his name out before he wraps his ring-clad fingers around your throat, pulling your mouth to his harshly. he molds against you perfectly, his other hand traveling to your hip to hold you flush against his own body.

he just couldn’t help it. he was so desperate on the entire ride over, replaying your outburst on a loop in his mind as he drove further and further away from his girlfriend. there’s been only a few occasions he’s seen you that upset, and your comments had been a necessary slap in the face.

plus, watching you fight for him when he was too much of a bitch to do it himself was a bigger turn-on than he’d like to admit.

all he’s ever wanted is you. and it shouldn’t have taken this long to admit it to himself.

matt guides you backwards, hand still squeezing your neck as he blindly kicks the door shut with one foot. you feel your back bump against the kitchen counter, and you’re trying to register what the hell is going on, but his kiss is so fucking intoxicating that it’s impossible to think clearly.

his tongue slides against yours passionately, and the flavored chapstick you’re wearing is driving him insane. you can feel him growing hard against your thigh as he toys with the elastic waistband of your pants suggestively.

you have no idea if this means it’s officially over with him and maya, but you find that you quite frankly don’t give a shit.

in this moment, he’s yours.

his fingers finally dip into your sweats a few seconds later, traveling down to brush against your clothed heat as he moves his mouth to your jaw sloppily. a breathy moan escapes before you can stop it, involuntarily rutting your hips against his cold rings in search of more friction.

one of your hands goes to grip the hair at the nape of his neck while the other claws at his back, desperately wrapping your knuckle around the cloth of his muscle tee.

“you like that?” matt grumbles against your throat, nipping at the skin as he begins to apply real pressure to your cunt in little circular motions.

your back arches and you tilt your head to the side so you can give him full access, silently hoping he’ll leave a mark behind.

“you’ve been thinking about me touching you like this, haven’t you? wishing i would come fuck you instead of her?” he questions further, moving his head slightly so he’s speaking directly into your ear.

the hand that was choking you slides down so he can grope your chest, his thumb running over one of your hardened nipples through the thin shirt you’re wearing. the combined pleasure has you whining in his grasp, a submissive sound that you wish you weren’t making.

you can feel him grinning as he presses his mouth to that sweet spot below your earlobe, his tongue darting out to wet the area.

“you want me just as much.” you manage to find your voice, though your claim is muttered with no conviction.

matt pauses his movements and brings both hands to your waistband again, which makes you whimper as you clench around nothing. his mouth finds yours briefly to swallow the sound, and he bites down on your bottom lip as he pulls away.

“you’re not wrong. so are you gonna give me what i want, baby?” he asks as he teases your sweats and panties just a little lower on your hips.

“keep going.” you plead.

you let go of your grip on his body so he can tug both items down to your ankles, helping you step out of their grasp before discarding them a couple feet away.

matt doesn’t immediately stand back up; instead he takes his time, kissing the side of your knees as his hands slide up the outside of your thighs. you feel so exposed, so on-display that you clench your legs together before you can help it.

he immediately pries them apart, shaking his head slightly with a little smirk. “don’t be shy now, you had so much to say earlier.”

his words spur you on, so you spread yourself wider, opting to grip the counter as he reattaches his lips to your inner thighs. matt inches closer and closer to where you really need him, taking his time to nip at the supple flesh that comes before.

he pulls away right when you think he’s finally about to put his mouth on you, letting his hot breath fan across your soaked center. it makes you shiver in anticipation, and you’re getting a little too needy now.

“quit fucking teas—oh shit.”

you throw your head back as his two fingers spread you apart, tongue coming in contact with the middle of your cunt as he laps at the wetness that had pooled there.

he slows his pace slightly after a moment, making sure to pay attention to the whole area, working his way up until his nose bumps against your clit. you spit a curse out, letting one hand go so you can grip his soft hair.

matt continues on, his lips closing around the sensitive bud so he can apply more pressure and suction. your gut flips at the sensation and your grip on his roots tightens as his mouth works.

he grumbles, loving the way you’re pulling at him so desperately. the noise sends vibrations through your core, which only makes the experience more enjoyable.

“fuckkk, matt, feels so good.” you praise dumbly, your words slurring.

the vocal admiration makes his pulse quicken, and at this point he’s straining against his jeans. he just can’t believe he’s got you like this, grinding your cunt against his face as if he’s the best you’ve ever had.

he can tell you’re growing closer just based on the little gasps and moans leaving your mouth, and your legs begin to shake ever so slightly. but he won’t let you finish just yet.

“want to be inside this pretty pussy.” he pulls away to say it, pressing one more wet kiss to the delicate area before he gets up.

you’re craving more, so you decide to take initiative, reaching for his belt and fumbling to undo the buckle. you tear it from the loops and toss it away, moving to his zipper as he reaches behind his head to tug his loose tank off.

his pants fall to the floor, leaving him in only his tented boxers. he’s quick to kick his shoes off, followed by his jeans right after.

then his hands go to your waist, fingers digging into the smooth flesh.

“up.” he instructs bluntly, helping lift you onto the end of the marbled countertop so he’s standing between your legs.

he lifts your shirt up next, and you help him out by throwing your arms above your head so he can fully remove it. his eyes train downwards, admiring the way your sheer bra hugs your tits. it hardly leaves anything to the imagination, and matt finds it extremely hot that you’ve been wearing it all night without him knowing.

before he can make a move, you surprise him by reaching back confidently to unhook the garment yourself. you let it slip from your shoulders before throwing it to your side, revealing your bare chest to him wordlessly.

he pulls his lip between his teeth as he exhales, gently guiding you downwards so your back is pressed flat against the cool surface. matt looks intimidating standing over you, his dark eyes drinking in every inch of your body.

“you’re so fucking sexy.” he says in awe, leaning down to give you another real kiss, a salty mix of sweat and arousal on his lips.

then he finds his way down to your collarbone, staying there shortly before traveling between the valley of your breasts. without warning, he presses his tongue flat across one nipple, flicking it back and forth.

you push your chest further into his face with a moan, both hands in his hair this time. he moves to the other perky bud, sucking on it as his teeth graze the tissue ever so slightly.

you’re practically writhing underneath him, and you can feel the pit growing in your stomach again. so even though it feels incredible, you yank his head back off of your chest by his hair.

“need you to fuck me.” you mutter, pushing his hair out of his face with both of your hands.

matt nods once, straightening so he can slide his underwear down. his erection finally springs free, pink tip glistening with precum. you watch as he spreads the wetness around, pumping himself in his hand a few times.

he’s bigger than you expected, and your mouth is watering just thinking about how much you want him to be pounding into you already.

“wrap your legs around me princess.” he commands gruffly, and you do just as you’re told, hooking your ankles behind his back.

his dick presses against your heat, and you buck against it to try and feel more. matt is quick to steady your hips roughly, holding you down against the edge of the counter as he teases himself into your entrance.

you both moan, his low and rumbling, yours high-pitched and greedy. you use your thighs to pull him closer, forcing him to drive into you fully so you can feel that pleasurable stretch.

“mmmn—fuck, you’re so tight.” he sighs, giving you another moment before he begins to drag his cock in and out at a steady pace.

you rock with him as best you can, finding the perfect rhythm so that he’s plowing his full length into you, filling the house with the sound of skin slapping skin.

matt lets one hand wrap around your neck again to choke you, tattoos on display as his muscles flex, and the pressure traps your lewd cries in your throat. his other fingers continue to toy with your nipples, which makes you arch off the counter, head rolled back as your eyes screw shut.

“look at you, taking me like such a good girl. just like i knew you would.” he compliments breathlessly.

he starts snapping his hips harder, enjoying the way your tits bounce as you slide slightly against the slick counter. you look so fucking beautiful, mouth partially open, barely able to squeak out a moan.

never in a million years did matt think he’d get the opportunity to fulfill all of his shamefully dirty fantasies about you, but here you are, completely naked and spread out in your own kitchen.

you’re squeezing around him now with every stroke, and he somehow keeps getting deeper, hitting your g-spot in a way that makes you jerk.

the familiar feeling of your abs tightening occurs as you get closer to your orgasm, and you swear you’re seeing stars at this point. he’s right there with you, a groaning mess as your fingers reach up to dig into his bicep.

“yes, matt, right there! m’gonna—” you fumble over your words, unable to finish the thought as the satisfaction builds.

he uses the last of his strength to drill into you, moving both hands back to your waist quickly so he can slam you down on his cock a few more times.

“come all over this dick baby, don’t hold back.”

you’re practically screaming his name as you hit your high, releasing all over him as his hot cum spills into you at the same time.

he slows his movements as you look up at him with bleary eyes, enjoying the last moments of being inside you before he pulls out. you feel your mixed arousal dripping out onto the counter, and you don’t even care that you’ll have to clean it up later.

that was completely worth the mess.

your chest continues to heave as you relish in the come down, dropping your thighs from his hips so he’s free to move around.

but matt stays between them, leaning down to capture your mouth with his one final time. it’s brief, but it means more than either of you truly understand.

he’s the one to break it first, pressing his forehead against yours before he speaks. “you’re incredible, you know that?”

you smile weakly, pushing against his chest to put some distance between the two of you. reality is creeping back in, reminding you that this was probably a one time thing.

“help me down?” you ask, and he complies.

matt lifts you a bit as you slide off the countertop, setting you back on real ground a second later. you’re not sure what to say as you stand before him, completely fucked out and terrified of whatever is coming next.

“so, um…i should probably get cleaned up.” you try to sound casual, even though you’re feeling anything but relaxed.

he immediately notices the switch in tone, the way you’re wrapping your arms around yourself like you’re trying to shrink away and hide. he’s also pretty sure he knows where this insecurity is coming from.

his fingers go to grip your chin gently, demanding that you look him in the face. your eyes widen as he brushes his thumb along your swollen bottom lip.

“i’m cutting things off with maya. i just…love you. and i’m sorry it took me so long.” matt finally admits.

it takes a second to click in your brain, but when it does a wide grin spreads across your face. butterflies erupt in your stomach, and you kiss the pad of his finger as he moves it along your mouth.

“i love you too, but i think you knew that already.” you tease playfully.

“yeah, maybe. but i like hearing you say it out loud.”

#matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #Spotify #matt sturniolo smut #sturniolo fanfic #fanfic

[dazednmatthews]

number neighbor!matt x reader: semi face to face (part four point five)

the thrum of the facetime ring had y/n very rightfully shitting bricks.

it wasn’t that she was scared of matt, nor would she ever let him know what she really thought of him, but the thought of finally talking to him semi-face to face was something that sent a weird hum through her veins.

they’d been talking for close to three weeks now, annoying him becoming a quintessential part of her days. she wouldn’t admit it to him, but she liked matt. as a friend. he was funny, and despite what she constantly told him, he wasn’t boring at all. she would have stopped trying a long time ago if he was.

on the third ring, matt picks up. the lighting in his room is warm, pale yellow filling her screen. the motherfucker is laid in bed, shirtless of course, hair fluffy and curling into his eyes.

it makes her sick to her god damn stomach the way the silver chain sits on his collarbones. and the way she can see stubble aligning his jaw. and the way the blanket just barely covers his chest. she wants to hang up.

she’d lost her ability to speak suddenly, so when matt raises an eyebrow, she knows he’s about to start something with her. “hello?” he draws out the ‘o’. “are you going to say something or am i gonna talk to myself during this?”

it’s enough to snap her out of whatever the fuck trance he had her in. “it’s been twenty seven seconds and i already wanna hang up.”

he smirks slightly, “i think that’s a lie.”

“whatever,” she grumbles. “why don’t you have any clothes on? classless.”

“i have pants on. wanna see?” y/n holds her hand up to the camera, flipping her middle finger. matt laughs. it’s a nice laugh. oh fuck. “am i distracting you?”

“i will hang up if you start this shit again.”

“fine, fine.” matt sits up slightly, angling the camera more on his face. he leans forward, eyebrows furrowed. “let me see your room.”

y/n is sitting at her desk, avoiding open makeup bottles and random pens strewn about. she shrugs, flipping the camera. her room is filled to the brim with things. her walls are covered in posters; from her favorite horror movies and icons and just films in general to her favorite musicians. she even has a funny minion poster in the corner that her best friend got her for a gag gift. she loves it just the same though.

“other than that fucking minion poster,” matt rolls his eyes. “you kind of have good taste.”

she scoffs. “kind of? bye. my taste is impeccable.”

matt eyes the poster right next to her closet door. “you like mac miller?”

she nods fondly. “he’s one of my favorite artists.”

something in his voice changes. “me too.”

“you wanna be me so damn bad. it’s flattering.”

it’s matt’s turn to scoff. “i actually couldn’t think of anything worse.”

y/n ignores him, giving him the full tour. she shows him the extent of her cd collection, which he of course, has something to say about all the disney channel soundtracks. she simply states that, “good music knows no bounds. it’s not my fault shake it up had the best ghost writers.” and yeah, matt does laugh at that.

she shows him the various pieces of art her sister has drawn her, which he’s actually really loves. they bicker about whether or not astrology is real, again, when she shows him her crystal collection. predictably, it ends up with her calling him a bastard and him telling her she’s insane a thousand times.

when she gets to her book case, he looks surprised. “you read?” his eyes are scanning the screen. “those are all yours?”

y/n’s face twists at the borderline insult. “are you calling me fucking stupid or something?”

“no!” he sounds kind of frantic. “i didn’t mean it like that. i just meant i didn’t know you enjoyed books like that.”

she shrugs, flipping the camera back to her and sitting back at her desk. “there’s a lot you don’t know about me, matt.”

she pretends to find something interesting in her reflection, not seeing matt’s eyes turn slightly soft. “yeah. i see.”

when it’s his turn to show his room, y/n’s surprised at how clean it is. there’s a bed and a desk with a monitor, headphones next to the keyboard. his bed is big and looks comfy, dark red silk sheets on it. it makes something in her stomach flip. she tells it to shut the hell up.

she teases him for the few stuffed animals he has on his bed. “aww, matt. you big softie.”

“yeah, yeah, what the fuck ever. they’re cute.”

“mr. tough guy, making room on his bed for his plushies. adorable.”

“go to hell, y/n.”

there’s not really much else in there but a couple framed pictures, so it’s over pretty quick. and when it is, something weird happens. the two sit on the phone, for hours. they talk about any and everything, bicker about the same things and tell each other more about themselves. y/n learns that he has the cutest little dog named trevor, he also likes to read from time to time and that he’s obsessed with watching tv.

she tells him about her parents and how they aren’t as close anymore, her siblings and how she wishes she could see them more and that she has an unhealthy attachment to word searches.

it’s nice, she decides.

it only ends when there’s a bang at matt’s door, followed by it flinging open. “matt, can you take me to the gas station? i want twizzlers.” one of his brothers says.

the other one flops down next to him on his bed, poking matt in the stomach. “i need chips in my system, like now.”

matt closes his eyes and sighs. “you both are so fucking annoying.” he turns to the side. “i’m on the god damn phone.”

the middle one in that one picture matt sent, chris she thinks, pokes his head into the frame. “oh shit, is that the girl that you’ve been texting?”

the other triplet, nick, let’s out a laugh. “you mean the one he never shuts the fuck up about-“ and suddenly the audio is cut off and matt is out of his bed.

y/n is taken aback by the statement. matt talks about her to his brothers? she would definitely be putting that in her back pocket for later.

she watches matt leave his own room and hears the sound come back. “i’ve gotta go, y/n. they’ll only get more annoying and i don’t feel like cleaning up a crime scene if i kill them.”

she smiles in amusement. “that’s fine, i should probably finish my laundry anyway.”

there’s a moment of silence and then she can hear the smirk in his voice way before she sees it. “yeah i noticed. do you wash that pair of lacy black underwear on your floor on delicate or regu-“

“goodbye, matthew!”

her face heats up as she presses the end call button, cutting off his maniacal laughter.

as y/n sits in silence for a second after he’s gone, she wonders if matt felt the shift between them just as much as she did.

a/n: yes the inspo is the still of matt from the new tiktok cause that shit got me soooo bad. anyway hope you guys liked this!

TAGLIST:

@sturnioloco @peachmels @sugrhigh @rootbeerworshiper @hollandsangel @sturnolio-luvs @mattsobvimyfav @misscocodiorsblog @ilovechrisssturniolo @pepsiboyy @braindead4l @mxqdii @fawnchives @hearts4chriss @certifiednatelover @nmegamett20 @imaslut4kehlani @dominicfikue @wovenribbons @streamermattsgf @pr1ncessmatt @pinksturniolo @yourfavoritefangirl @nickmillersn1gf @freshxsturniolo @sturniolobltch @mattspolitank @lookingformyromeo @alorsxsturn @imwetforyourmom @kiarastromboli @sleepysturnss @mattscoquette @sturncakez

#matt sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo fluff #matt stuniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo texts #matt sturniolo headcanon #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #chris sturniolo texts #nick sturniolo texts #christopher sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #nick sturniolo #chris sturniolo #sturniolo edit #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo x reader #sturniolo x reader

[straykeedz]

Thinking about Chan taking you on the backseat on your weekly night drive after you confess some dirty thoughts you have about him

(May I be 🎀 anon??)

𝐦𝐨𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 ; 𝐛𝐜

thank you so much for your request, hope you like it! ♡ 🎀 is not free, but you can claim another emoji! check out which emojis are already taken! ♡

𝐭𝐰: female anatomy ; fingering (f receiving) ; handjob (kinda) ; protected sex (shocking, i know) ; clit play ; dirty talking ; they're in love your honour ; ♡

𝐰𝐜: 2,7k ♡

The parking lot is empty - Chan stops the car and turns the engine off. 

“We’re here, baby.”

It’s your favorite time of the week, when you can finally spend some time together and be yourselves - catching up with what’s going on in your life, updating each other about work and other boring, mundane stuff, and also gossiping. You don’t need fancy dinners or eye-catching acts or ridiculously expensive gifts - having milkshakes and donuts in his car, with some music softly playing in the background and his hand on your thigh is more than enough. 

“You didn’t have to pay for all this, you know?” You tell him, pointing at the paper bag in your hands with a nod. 

He chuckles, tonguing his cheek. “It’s just milkshakes and a couple of donuts. Besides, what kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn’t spoil my girl?”

You roll your eyes at him. “As if you don’t spoil me enough already,” you shake your head. “But really, you don’t have to. You know I feel bad when you pay for my stuff.”

Chan works a part-time job and is also a college grad, which means his finances are a bit… tight, at the moment, and you do feel guilty when he buys you stuff - even if it’s just donuts and a milkshake. It’s not like you don’t try to pay for your things, because you do - he’s just incredibly fast at pulling out his credit card. 

“I love spoiling you, though. Honestly, I’d pay for more of your stuff if I had the money,” he chuckles. “Now let’s drink the milkshakes before the cream melts.”

The moon shines bright up in the sky, lighting up your surroundings delicately. Chan drives you always to the same place and parks the car in the same spot - it’s quiet and intimate, and no one’s ever around. Most of the nights, you’d just chill in his car and just talk about everything and nothing at the same time - other nights, he’d lower your seat and make sweet love to you in his old car, way too small to fit the both of you but hey, at least it’s an excuse to be even closer. Like that time he was all over you, inside of you, with his body pressed tightly on yours - only a soft blanket covering both of your naked bodies as whimpers and moans filled the cramped up space of the small vehicle. 

“Earth to y/n?” Chan giggles, waving his hand in front of your face. You rapidly blink a couple of times and shake your head, finally turning to look at him. “Whatcha thinking of, baby?” 

“Oh…” you blush a little, “nothing in particular.”

“Oh, really?” He teases you, placing his hand on your thigh, stroking it with his thumb. “Because I know you, I know there’s something on your mind.” He comes closer, brushing your nose with his, and you feel his hot breath on your skin. You shiver. 

“There’s nothing on my mind,” you place your hand on top of his, intertwining your fingers and smiling at him. “‘M just happy to be here, with you.”

“Hm, is that why your face is so red?” He looks into your eyes as he speaks - he always does this when he wants to tease you, and it’s working. “Is it because you’re happy to be here with me?”

His fingers on your thigh, his hot breath on your skin - and he’s so, so close. Just an inch or two away from your lips. You bet he tastes of his strawberry milkshake - you can’t wait to find out if you’re right. 

“I… I was thinking about…” your mouth falls open and your eyes flutter when his lips find your jaw - he starts leaving open-mouthed kisses all over your skin, sometimes running his hot, wet tongue all over it. He chuckles when a tiny yelp leaves your mouth after he sucks on a precise spot on your neck. 

“You were saying?” He breathes against your neck, rubbing circles on your thigh with his thumb. “‘M sorry, I distracted you, baby,” he teases you, but won’t stop kissing you, “you were thinking about…?”

“About what… what happened the last time we were here,” you breathe out at the feeling of Chan’s hand moving up your thigh, closer and closer to the spot between your thighs he knows very well. 

His heart skips a beat, and he feels himself growing harder inside his boxers. “Oh, yeah? And what are you thinking of, exactly? I’m curious now.”

You entangle your fingers in his curly, dark hair, pulling him closer as you finally feel his thumb brush the center of your thigh, right on your clothed clit, just teasing you with the tip of his finger. He brushes your hair from your shoulder, guaranteeing himself more access to your now exposed neck, moaning against your skin. A Chase Atlantic’s song is still playing in the background, and the car windows are slowly fogging up due to yours and Chan’s heavy breathing. 

“I was thinking of your fingers. Of when… of when you touched me,” you mumble, relaxing completely under his touch, “I was thinking that maybe it’d be nice if you…” you tug at his hair, and he grunts against your skin, sucking on your clavicle. 

“If I?” He presses a little bit harder on your clit. 

“If you did it again?” It comes out as a question, and Chan can’t help but smirk at that. 

“Yeah? You want me to touch you here?” Chan mumbles, his fingers moving up to toy with the button of your jeans. You nod, and he undoes it. “What else were you thinking about?” He unzips your fly, revealing a small portion of the fabric of your panties. 

And then, his fingers slip under the waistband of your lace panties, and you gasp. 

“Just-just that…” you try to sound convincing, but your red cheeks and your stuttering are exactly what give you away. 

“Ah, just that… Are you sure?” you hiss when his fingers brush your clit with a delicacy he’s always had towards you - then, he touches your wet entrance, and licks his lips. If the space weren’t so little, he’d already be on his knees eating you out like a starved man until you’re creaming on his tongue. “You’re so wet, oh baby…” you whine when he pushes his middle finger inside. 

“I… there’s other things I think of, sometimes,” you confess, and Chan finally pulls away from your neck to look you in the eye. His lips are swollen, and his pupils are blown. You run your hand up and down his arm, feeling him up and squeezing his muscles. 

“Yeah?” His lips finally brush yours, but he doesn’t kiss you yet, “will you tell me about these things?” Chan asks, and you nod.

When he finally kisses you, you inevitably smile against his lips because yes, his lips truly taste like his strawberry milkshake. He kisses you and kisses you, running his tongue along your lower lip, whimpering when you do the same. Chan adds another finger inside of you, and slowly begins to pump them in and out of you. He nearly jumps in his seatwhen, all of a sudden, he feels your hand on his crotch, palming his erection. 

“I… I think about giving you head. About… wrapping my lips around you,” you mumble on his lips, and Chan’s eyes flutter shut as he rests his forehead on yours - his heart is beating fast inside his chest. 

“Oh, God,” Chan kicks his head slightly back as you start kissing his neck. “What… what else?”

“You…” you slip your hand under the waistband of his dark grey sweats, squeezing him though his boxers, “you fucking me in the backseats. I’m talking - hot, desperate, needy sex. Right here, where e-everyone could see.” 

“Fuck, you want me dead,” he hisses, fucking you a bit faster with his fingers, curling them inside of you and toying with your clit at the same time. “When… when do you think about these things?” 

“When- when I’m getting off,” you admit, and Chan lets out a guttural moan. 

“Yeah?” He squeezes his eyes when your fingers brush the tip of his clothed cock. “You think about me when you touch yourself?”

“Always,” you whimper on his lips. “I always think of you.”

“Me too,” he blurts out in a huff, completely lost in what you two are doing now, “I a-always think of you when ‘m gettin’ off. Always cum so hard, too.” 

Chan is losing his mind, he literally can’t think straight - mostly because there’s no blood left in his brain, but also because you’re so hot and you’re telling him all these filthy things and he’s weak. He wants nothing more than to lift your hoodie and free your pretty tits and take them in his mouth. It’s when you finally touch him properly, freeing him from his boxers and wrapping your fingers around his thickness, that he pulls away abruptly after you’ve stroked him a couple of times. 

“‘M not- ‘m gonna cum if you do that, I swear,” he mumbles, blushing out of embarrassment as he pulls your hand out of his sweats, “I wanna- wanna make love. D’you want to?” 

He’s always so romantic, your Chan. Even if he’s rearranging your guts, he always calls it making love. 

“Yeah. Yeah, of course I want to,” you kiss him once again, pecking his lips a couple of times. You wrap your hand around his wrist and pull his hand out of your panties. Then, you begin to pull your jeans down your thighs and undress yourself. 

It doesn’t take long before the both of you find yourselves in the backseats - Chan on top of you still fully dressed while you only have your hoodie and your soaked panties on, and he’s palming himself over his boxers.

“Lemme see your tits, please,” he’s almost begging, and he bites his lip when you slowly lift your hoodie and top, revealing your boobs to his eyes. “Oh. Oh, baby. You’re so damn perfect, oh.”

You pull him in for a kiss, but you still feel him fidgeting with his sweats. He slides down the curve of his ass rather quickly, pulling them down enough to free his cock and balls. The car windows are completely fogged up by now, “Moonlight” by Chase Atlantic starts playing. 

“Do you have a condom?” You mumble on his lips, wrapping your fingers around the tip of his cock and stroking him gently, slowly. He shivers under your touch, but still nods at you. 

“Yeah, of course,” he pecks your lips, then stretches his arm to grab his jeans jacket, pulling out a small foil wrapper from one of the pockets. “Don’t wanna put any risk on you,” he kisses the tip of your nose. 

He tears the wrapper open and carefully positions the rubber on his cock, rolling it onto his length in a matter of seconds. Is it weird that you’re turned on by watching him performing such a mundane action? You don’t know, but you can’t tear your eyes off of his hands and, consequently, his hard cock, licking and then biting your lip. He’s between your legs in a matter of seconds, pulling your lace panties to the side and positioning himself at your entrance. 

“Don’t think I didn’t notice these,” he mumbles, toying with the hem of your underwear - his favorite. “You’re so hot, baby. Makin’ yourself pretty for me all the time, ‘m so lucky. I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” you whisper, and then he’s pushing himself inside of you. 

A choked moan leaves your lips as you feel him filling you up with his length slowly. He grips your hip as he does, intertwining his fingers with yours as he bottoms out inside of you, letting out a desperate whine because God, he missed this. Not just the sex, he missed feeling you so close. He lifts his own t-shirt too, and then he presses his now bare chest on yours, feeling your skin on his in a way that has his head spinning. When you latch your lips on his neck and wrap your arms around his waist, pulling him even closer, he shudders as he starts to move inside of you. 

“Chan…” you mumble on his skin, running your fingers up and down his back. 

“Baby,” he moans as well, thrusting at an excruciatingly slow pace, just to feel you around him - your hole gripping him tight as he fucks into you, hips rocking back and forth ever so gently, but it doesn’t stop the car from rocking as well. 

If anyone were to pass by right now, they’d surely figure out what’s going on - neither of you care. You only care about Chan, and he only cares about you. 

“You feel so- so amazing, baby,” he pulls a couple of strands of hair from your face, looking into your eyes as he continues to fuck you - his eyes are sparkling, there’s a light in them you only see whenever he’s looking at you. “’m so… so lucky you’re mine. My baby.”

“And you’re mine,” you whimper on his mouth, rocking your hips as well to meet his movements. You love him, you love him so much. 

The pace of Chan’s thrusts becomes quicker and quicker - he places the palm of his hand on the fogged up car window, leaving his print there as he angles his hips so that he’s hitting your g-spot with every thrust. “Yeah, yeah, I’m… ‘m yours, baby. Yours. No one else’s, promise you. Yours. ” 

His mouth falls open, choked grunts and desperate whimpers are the only thing that fall from it as he feels himself getting closer and closer. He hides his face in your neck, squeezing his eyes and leaving a series of wet kisses on your collarbone. 

“O-open up, baby,” Chan whimpers, bringing two of his hands to your lips. You accept them into your mouth, coating them in your own spit, and after Chan makes sure they’re moisturized enough, he pulls them out and slides his hand between your legs, touching your clit. “Tell me, baby. Tell me what you think of when you pleasure yourself. I wanna know everything.”

“I think of- of you fucking me raw,” you blush like crazy, and Chan gulps as his eyes widen. “I think about… about letting you cum inside. About you filling me up, Channie.”

“Oh, fuck, you- you… you drive me crazy, you know that? Love you so fuckin’ much.”

His thrusts turn sloppy as he rubs your clit the way you like it - his touch is delicate and intense at the same time, not too light and not too rough. Your legs begin to shake in mere seconds, and you can feel the familiar feeling burning in your stomach - you whine and take deep breaths as he keeps rubbing you in circular motions, faster and faster. 

“Chan- Channie, I’m- oh, Channie,” you squeeze your eyes shut, scratching his back with your fingernails. 

“Yeah, like that, baby,” Chan sucks on your neck, “cum for me. Prove me you’re really mine.”

When you finally find your release - it’s with an obscene moan of his name and your teeth in his shoulder. You clench so tight around him that Chan feels suddenly on the verge of his own orgasm. 

“‘M close, baby, ‘m so close,” Chan breathes heavily, his thrusts turning frantic and erratic. He needs to let go. “Tell me- fuck, baby, tell me you’re mine. N-need to hear it,” he begs.

“‘M yours. ‘M yours, Chan. Love you so much, baby,” you whine and he eventually teaches his own orgasm, that washes all over his body and has him shaking on top of you as he fills up the condom with his hot release.

“My- my baby. ‘M so fucking in love with you,” he mumbles on your skin, pecking your neck, and then your jaw, and then your lips. 

“I’m in love with you, too, baby.” You run your hand through his hair, kissing his temple as you both catch your breaths. “Let’s eat the donuts now, yeah? ‘M kinda hungry,” you giggle, and he does, too.

-> 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐛𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦. 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐢𝐬 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐞.

-> 𝐦𝐲 ☕️

#bang chan smut #bangchan smut #bang chan x reader #bangchan x reader #bangchan hard thoughts #bangchan hard hours #bang chan hard thoughts #bang chan hard hours #stray kids #skz #stray kids smut #stray kids masterlist #skz smut #skz masterlist #stray kids fanfic #stray kids fic #bang chan fanfic #bang chan fanfiction #bangchan fanfic #bangchan fan fiction #bang chan x reader smut #stray kids drabbles #stray kids hard hours #skz hard thoughts #skz hard hours

[chronically-ghosted]

i wonder if you stopped his world like you did mine

rating: teen

pairing: frankie morales x f!reader

word count: 5K

summary: watching the woman he loves be with someone else is killing him, but for your sake, he manages. But when Benny's birthday loosens him up, he can't help but bear his soul over a phone call. Too bad you don't pick up and he's forced to leave the evidence in a voicemail.

tags/warnings: pining, light angst, idiots in love, country music as a catalyst, romance, tw alcohol, tw drinking, hangovers, ultimately very fluffy

a/n: Happy Valentine's Day @toomanystoriessolittletime! I hope you receive and give all the love you need and want! I've had this idea for a while, but once I saw that Frankie was your fave, I knew I had to do it!

one day i’m gonna do the series of all of my favorite country songs with a Pedro boy. This is one of them: Singles You Up by Jordan Davis. Had thoughts of Me and My Kind by Cody Johnson for our ever-fantastic Jack Daniels and Hurricane by Luke Combs for Joel. One day, my loves, one day. 

🤍Masterlist | Frankie Morales Masterlist

Frankie Morales has a problem.

Given the life expectancy in his line of work – all things considered – it really wasn’t that bad of a problem. Sure, his knees were busted, his shoulder aches when it was cold out, and his ex keeps hounding him for money he doesn’t have. But on the flipside, his little family unit of friends and brothers united by combat are (mostly) all alive and healthy. He has a steady job and his little girl, whom he loves and adores, thinks the sun shines out of his ass. All things considered, there’s not much else he can ask for. He’s far better off than some of the men and women at Will’s talks, or in Santiago’s field teams. 

So – really, truly, seriously – all things considered . . .  he can’t classify this as a bad problem.

In fact, this is a problem he would willingly have. Gladly even. Not quite joyously, but if it’s a choice between this problem and not having the problem at all, he will choose having this consistent, thorny, kind-of-hurts-to-breathe-sometimes problem every single time.

And right now, it’s wearing a dress.

Uh, well, you’re wearing a dress. An off-white, hinging-on-cream, dress that sits above your knees, cuts flat and wide across your chest, and puffs out into cotton sleeves that remind him of those conchas his abuela used to make. Sweet, fluffy, and absolutely forbidden. 

Until the time is right, at least. His abuela always made him wait to eat until the time was right.

He calls it – you – a problem, when in fact, it’s the opposite of a problem. There is nothing he would ever want to change about the warm, engulfing feeling that starts somewhere in his stomach and rises like conchas up his spine until it’s somewhere in his ribs, then under his breastbone, right by his –

He would kill anyone who tried to take that feeling away from him. It’s when he feels most alive, most present, most out of his head – like these things in the dark and sleeping corners of his mind that nip and bite at him can’t find him. He’s thrown them off his scent in his search for you and, even for a brief moment, he can step into the light.

There is no problem, in how you look tonight, how you look every night, with your bright shining smile, sweet-smelling hair, cowboy boots, glass of whiskey – you had such a fantastic taste in –

Wait. 

That’s not whiskey. Not even a whiskey glass. 

That’s –

“White wine?” Benny yelps as he leans forward and his chair legs clatter against the concrete floor. “If that’s Moscato, I’m calling the cops because you’ve been replaced by an equally hot body double.”

You roll your eyes as you sit down and take a long drink from your glass, as if to make a point. Frankie’s eyes are drawn to where your dress hangs over your crossed legs, exposing the curve of your thigh. 

“It’s not fucking Moscato, Benjamin,” you say, eyes narrowed, completely side-stepping his compliment, like you always do. “It’s Chardonnay. Nick recognized the vineyard on the menu so he recommended it. Thought I’d give it a try, because I like trying something new, Benjamin.”

He rolls those beautiful blue eyes and leans forward towards you at the table, that grin that brings grown women to their knees plastered across his face. He knocks back his cowboy hat with a tap of his knuckle. 

“Well, excuse the fuck outta me.”

“The fuck outta you is excused.”

You tug his hat back down over his face, smirking back at him, just as Nick saunters over – with what looks to be a wine glass of his own. 

Okay, in hindsight, you’re not the problem. 

His real fucking problem is Nick. 

Your boyfriend. 

Frankie, who has decided to only drink beer around you since The Almost Incident, takes three long pulls so he doesn’t have to watch Nick and his stupid hands slide across your exposed back and sit down in Santi’s empty chair. 

“Happy Birthday, man, thanks for inviting me out.” Nick says briefly, raising his glass to Benny. “But I gotta say, I was a little worried when my girl here said your party was gonna be at a country dance hall. I’ve never been to one of these. I had to buy cowboy boots just for the occasion.”

He sticks his leg out, and rotates his gator-skin boot back and forth as if to illustrate how important to him this whole thing is. 

But Benny doesn’t look down, doesn’t approve the boots, or Nick’s attempt at fitting in. Instead, he just smirks, his smile growing fat and lazy, a bit of the warmth fading from his blue eyes.

“Your first time at a cowboy hoe-down? I had no idea.” 

Nick grins, because he doesn’t know Benny well enough to see the dig for what it is. But you do. You know him and you know he’s ragging on your boyfriend. You narrow your eyes and shame coats Frankie’s chest. Because he knows also Benny and he knows why he’s giving Nick such a hard time.

See, the problem isn’t you, or even your boyfriend – not really. 

Nick is actually a decent guy. He treats you right, if a little delicately, but he buys you drinks, takes you places Frankie could never afford, in a car Frankie could never ever afford. Sometimes, you’ll say something, or tell a story and it’s obvious Nick doesn’t really understand you or your jokes, but he smiles along anyway. He makes good money and supposedly he keeps in touch with his mom. Nick is the kind of guy any brother would want his sister to date.

So the problem isn’t that Nick is a bad boyfriend, but that he’s your boyfriend.

The problem that Frankie Morales has is that he is painfully, achingly, in love with you.

And he’s your friend.

Maybe that would change, if he ever could work up the guts to say something. For fuck’s sake, he’s killed people – asking you out can’t be that much worse (as Santi often reminds him). But if the guys you’re into are like Nick, or even Nick-adjacent, then what fucking chance does he have? He never thought money was important to you, but apparently it is and that’s something he definitely can’t give you.

Or maybe you like the stability of a high-paying job with fucking miraculous health-care. And that’s two things more he can’t offer: stability and health-care. 

So, maybe, maybe his problem isn’t with you or Nick or the fact that Nick is your boyfriend. It’s that he never could be. He, with one failed marriage already behind him and a coke rap sheet, has nothing to give you . . .

And you deserve the world.

You deserve more than he can offer you. You deserve better than him.

That’s his real fucking problem. And one he can't ever fix.

Will couldn’t get off work to come to this, so he owed Benny a beer and a nice steak dinner – according to Benny. Santi, despite absolutely swearing up and down for a week he wouldn’t be caught dead in cowboy boots and a hat, showed up tonight in full gear, belt-buckle included because he lost a bet with Benny over the Thursday night game. Santi, like everything else in his life, researched the hell out of the two teams, their past history, older statistics of both the players and the coach. He was confident, so confident, that he put his pride on the line. 

Never a good idea with Benny Miller. 

I don’t know, Benny said at the sports bar when his team was whooping Santi’s team’s ass, I just had a good feeling. Presumably, Santi did three shots before leaving and with another two in his system at the bar, all anger and frustration and embarrassment and inhibition had melted away and now Santi was doing what Santi did best, especially when drunk: dancing with beautiful women.

“The son of a bitch can dance, I’ll give him that. ” Benny muses as the three of you watch Santi, who despite having been taught the moves three minutes ago by two gorgeous blondes, complete a perfect line dance of Copperhead Road. 

“Oh, shit, I could never do that.” Nick shakes his head. “Not even after a hundred classes.”

“Ah, I find that hard to believe, Nicky Boy. You seem like a natural,” Benny smirks over the lip of his beer bottle. He finds Frankie’s eyes and winks. 

You are not amused. You glare at him over Nick’s shoulder for the second time tonight. 

“It’s really not that hard,” you smile tightly and squeeze Nick’s shoulder. “I can teach you.” 

“Oh, yeah, don’t you know your girl here?” Benny leans back in his chair, balancing against the rung of Nick’s chair by the ball of his foot. “She used to put all of us to shame. Dancing the night away, leading the crowd in line dancing. In fact, if I remember correctly, she and Frankie used to get into all sorts a-trouble on the dance floor. Isn’t that right, Frankie?”

Now he drew a glare from you and Frankie. 

Don’t, man, just don’t. 

Benny shrugs, swallowing his smirk with another sip of beer, hands raised. Just trying to help out. 

Over the speakers, the song winds to a close and the crowd does their final spin. Across the dance floor, Santi bows, his hat sweeping the floor, to both of the girls who giggle like high schoolers. 

“I’m gonna go get Boot Scootin’ Boogie over there some water before he up-chucks all over those nice ladies.” Benny stands and fixes his hat. “You guys want anything?”

Frankie shakes his head, his own hat that Benny insisted he wear, making the line of sweat across his forehead itch. You and Nick decline as well. You’ve barely even touched your drink, Frankie notes with a certain level of satisfaction. 

As Benny walks towards the bar, the next song starts up and you let out a squeal. Bring on The Good Times has been one of your favorite songs since college. And Frankie should know – he introduced it to you. 

“This one is the best! A classic!” You grab Nick’s forearm, but he almost immediately pulls it back. 

“Ah, babe, my first line dance is not gonna be in front of strangers! I’ll embarrass you and me. Why don’t you ask Frankie?”

Fuck, why could Nick just be a raging, flaming asshole? This would be so much fucking easier. 

Frankie swallows his beer empty, an excuse for a refill prepped. He hates cowboy hats, but he’d fucking set fire to the sky for Benny – he just hopes he immolates himself in the process. The giant brim makes him feel like he’s got a neon sign over his head that blinks, I Am A Giant Dork. Only further proven if he gets anywhere near that dance floor with his two left feet. 

Your eyes are unreadable as he tries to coax your boyfriend into taking you dancing.

“Nah, man, you got this. Your girl’s a great teacher.” By some cowboy miracle, his voice is steady as he says those two words. On the table, your fingers curl in, your wine glass still untouched.

Nick makes a face, eyes flitting back and forth to the dancers as they start the dance.

“My feet are already killing me in these new boots. Besides, this isn’t really my song.”

Over his shoulder, you find Frankie’s eyes. He knows that look on you – he knows everything about you – and you’re trying to hide how hurt you are.

He’s on his feet before he knows what he’s doing.

You and Nick stare up at him, surprised by how he practically bounded to his feet. 

The sweat at the ring of his hat runs down the back of his neck. Frankie does the only thing halfway-normal and extends his hand.

“Alright, princesa, I’ll fill out your dance card.”

He doesn’t care, or even really register, the darkly confused frown Nick sends him when you stand up, take his hand, and smile at him. He feels warm all the way up to his chest. 

“Thanks, Frankie. Let’s boogie.” 

That was a mistake.

This whole fucking night is a mistake. God help him, he loves Benny like a brother but he should have just said no and promised to take him out later like Will. He would have bought Benny any drink, any ridiculous chicken wing plate he wanted if Frankie didn’t have to be here, right now. 

Because right now, right now, that wall of self-control that he uses to stem the reservoir, to stem the flow of whatever you cause to pour out of him, it’s leaking. It’s busted holes and now he’s drenched with it – with the scent of you, with the memory of hair down the length of your neck, the heat of your skin overworked and flushed, the sweet taste of your breath in his mouth when you leaned forward, into his space, his senses, and whispered,

“C’mon, Frankie, you’re a better dancer than this.”

But in his defense, he couldn’t feel his feet, much less make them move when he watched you with your skirt rucked up high in your fists, your cowboy boots kicking like fish in a stream, and that smile – that fucking smile – brighter and sweeter than all the whiskey in the world. 

C’mon, Frankie, you’re a better dancer than this

C’mon, Frankie, you’re better than this.

C’mon, Frankie, tell me you love me.

Kiss me, Frankie. Kiss me now.

His restraint, his resolve that he will never, ever have you – he can feel it throb beneath his palms. Shudder and wobble under the thundering of his heart. It’s so close to breaking. Too close. This is why he doesn’t drink anything harder than beer around you. This is why he rarely drinks around you at all. 

When Nick finally calls it a night because he’s already got a blister from the new boots, you don’t put up much of a fight. You’ve danced with Benny, you’ve danced with Santi and his gaggle of girls, Nick himself went up for a slow dance or two.

Frankie only ever asked for one. 

He knows he disappointed you, has been disappointing you because you can feel him layering you away, brick by brick by brick. One of his oldest and longest friends, barely visible now, and he’s going over it with caulk to make sure you can’t touch this fragile, weak, emaciated thing he calls a heart. 

The instant you walk out of the bar, Nick’s arm across your tense shoulders, he all but rushes for the bar. 

“Six tequila shots, please.”

You wake up where you went to sleep: curled up on your couch, your giant Florida Gators blanket wrapped around you like a mentally-supportive straight-jacket, with Golden Girls reruns on the TV. The empty bottle of 19 Crimes explains the sticky, dry feeling in your mouth and the thundering headache accompanying swollen eyes and cheeks. You’d rather get hit by a train than have to move out of this position, but Nick has always been punctual.

Which, you assume, extends to picking up his stuff from your apartment first thing in the morning, his final threat that ended your conversation last night. 

The sooner, the better, you mother fucker. 

You blindly grab around for your phone, knowing that it’s most likely shoved into the deepest cracks of your couch, hoping against hope Panera delivers on a Saturday morning. There’s a distinct possibility you might start swinging if Nick shows up before you get a baguette and a coffee into your system. 

The things he said about Benny and Santi last night on the drive home. This break up was a long time coming, but fuck, if this is what he’d been sitting on about your friends, what the fuck did he actually think of you? 

And the things he implied about Frankie – how Frankie was in love with you and you were willingly not seeing it – ridiculous.

You fight the rancid taste of hope that anything Nick implied about Frankie might even remotely be true when you close your fingers around the shape of your phone at the far end of the couch. 

22%

Just enough to order then yeet this fucking thing into another room because there is no way in hell you are answering Nick’s calls.

But, as you scroll through your notifications, maybe you should have answered Frankie’s.

He had called sporadically, starting about two hours after you and Nick had left the dance hall, all the way until four in the morning. 

One text at 1AM: com e hang out wit us.i mis s you u 

You smile, despite the obviously drunken text. Frankie rarely texted, only if it was dire need – and apparently, you continuing to party with the boys at 1AM was very, very dire. Judging by the eight missed calls.

Eight missed calls, but only one voicemail. 

Like you’re about to settle down for some good TikTok scrolling, you lean back into the pillows, rubbing your eyes to clear the hazy fog, and press play. 

First, there’s noise. Lots of it. Country music and people laughing and singing. Clearly still at the dance hall. You wish for a minute it is a video instead because you’d pay hand over fist to see those guys falling all over each other.

But then comes Santi. Over the years, you’d picked up some Spanish here and there, mostly enough not to embarrass yourself if you ever went to Miami. 

But whatever Santi is saying, you’re not entirely sure it is Spanish, or any human language. 

“Comotuamiga, teruegoqueselodigas porfavornopuedo hacerestopormucho mástiempo. Estaríasmásfeliz y ellaestaríamásfeliz. Nomemiresasí, sabesqueloúnico quequiereesqu labeses y la beses y luegohagasotrascosas – ¡Estúpido! ¿La llamaste?”

There’s a shuffling, hushed voices, the music still far too loud to make anything out.

“Déjame en paz, dude.” Frankie. Frankie, very very very drunk. “I’m gonna – I’m gonna say – voy a decirle. Ella lo sabrá. She’ll get it. I know–,”

“Then say something now because you’re leaving a voicemail!”

“Ah, mierda – um, baby?”

In two words and two filler words, Frankie’s whole demeanor changes. You can almost picture him curled around the phone, his hand cradling the phone to his ear as he rests his head against a wall. 

“Baby, listen – fuck, sorry, I’m starting all wrong. I shouldn’t even call you that – I shouldn’t call you ‘baby’ because you’re not mine. You’re not my baby or anyone else’s because you’re so fucking independent and I love that about you but I wish you were. Mine, I mean. Not a baby.”

You don’t even remember sitting up, but your feet are on the ground. You’ve dropped the phone onto the table in front of you, staring at it as if it’s been dripping poison into your ear. Your heart is pounding. 

There’s silence from Frankie for a second, the music still loud, but it’s dampened. You can hear Frankie breathing, swallow, and start again.

“You looked so fuckin’ good tonight. You look good every night but fuck, baby, that dress. I couldn’t take my eyes off you. Even for a second . . . he doesn’t tell you that you look so fucking good enough, you know? You should hear it all the time. I wanna tell you – tell you all the time – he didn’t say it once. Not once and that’s a fucking crime. He makes you drink white wine when I know you fucking hate it – I know you, baby. I know you more than I know myself because you’re all I fucking think about. You’re in here, all the time, all up in my chest, my throat, my gut – and you can have it. You can have it. You can have all of me, if you just . . .”

His voice breaks and your fingers clench around the edge of the cushion. 

“If you just . . . look, I know this is so fucking outta line and I wanna say it to your face and I’m gonna but . . . when that fuckin’ moron forgets how good he has it, I’m gonna be there. Gonna be right there. Because –,”

And then like someone shoved a speaker right up against Frankie’s phone, as clear as day, you hear Benny yell:

“IF HE AIN’T HOLDING YOU TIGHT, IF HE AIN’T TREATIN’ YOU RIGHT, I’MA BE THE FIRST ONE CALLIN’ HIM CRAAAZY–,”

“Benny, fuck off!”

And then the call drops, along with it your stomach. In fact, it slides out of your body, slouches off the couch and melts into the floor.

Oh, Frankie, do you even mean a word of it?

The hangover rubbing your nerves raw, tears spring into your eyes, the silence and fear and terrible hope tightening like a band around your head and infinitely increasing the pressure in your temples. You want to cry but your eyes already feel too puffy. 

You’re stuck, frozen by every single possible outcome or single next step spinning out like chaotic webbing you can easily catch yourself on. 

This was a mistake, it had to be. He didn’t mean to call your phone. He had accidentally called you when he meant to call another girl . . . also with a boyfriend named Nick. Frankie, sweet Frankie, who you’ve all but outright begged to take an interest in you – said it with your eyes hundreds of times – Frankie couldn’t actually have feelings for you.

Not like you had for him. Not like the ones you’ve slowly plucked out of your ribs over the years because god, even just looking at him seared a scar across your heart. 

Fuck. Fuck!

You snatch up your phone, wiping your teary eyes and frantically hoping he might have said a name or anything – he couldn’t possibly have meant you – when three loud bangs on your front door sends your phone into the air and your heart into your throat.

The way he calls your name is frantic, verging on hysterical. In a daze, you glance at the clock. 9:04. Frankie’s had about four hours of sleep, if any at all.

“Please, open the door! We gotta talk – there’s something – there’s something on your phone you shouldn’t hear – please, baby, open up –,”

You stare at the phone on your floor. 

Don’t they always say you can’t tell the moments that irrevocably change your life until after they’re gone?

Not this time.

You open the door and either way, everything changes. 

“C’mon, please, let me explain.” His voice has quieted, no longer shaking, softer as though wounded. “Just five minutes and I’m gone. I swear. We can forget the whole thing –,”

You open the door to a hungover Frankie Morales, still in the same outfit you saw him last in, but his eyes are rimmed with black circles, his patchy beard even more patchy as if he had rubbed the bristle clean off. He reeks of beer, peanuts, and cigarette smoke. His shirt is loose, wrinkled, his belt isn’t even on all the way, and he’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen.

“What if I don’t want to forget it, Frankie?”

You see the realization strike him through the eyes, the throat, the chest, his gut, his brown eyes swimming with shame and horror. He leans over as if kicked and presses a hand against your doorway. His thumb rubs the corner and he swallows.

“So you listened to it already?”

“Yeah, I did.” He closes his eyes briefly, hanging his head, every apology in every language he knows sitting right behind his teeth. “But did you hear what I said?”

He frowns at you through those thick eyebrows. “What?”

“When I opened the door, did you hear what I said?”

“You said –,” that beautiful bottom lip parts from its sensual top and Frankie blinks at you. The oily blackness of shame has evaporated from his eyes, but that stormy fear rages on. 

You inhale, breath getting caught on every knot in your spine, and step back.

“We need to talk.” 

He glances once over his shoulder, as if taking in the hallway to your apartment for the last time, and he steps inside. Immediately his height and broadness fill out every empty space in your tiny living room and you’re launched back into the memory of when the boys came over for Christmas and there was hardly enough room for anyone, but somehow you all made it work and after four rounds of DDR, everyone was so tired and drunk, you passed out pillows and blankets and you spent your first adult Christmas at what could have been mistaken for a thirteen year old’s slumber party. It was one of the happiest times of your life.

His thick fingers clench and unclench when Frankie spies your phone on the floor, like a bomb waiting to go off. 

Your brain struggles to default to hostess mode because you can’t think of anything to say.

Do you want coffee?

Do you want some cereal? 

Do you want to– 

“Tell me what happened last night.” You surprise yourself, Frankie, and your whirring brain by cutting right to it. As with the first question when you opened the door to him, there’s something inside of you that has taken on wings, spread them wide, and threatens to soar out of your body. Frankie’s here, he’s here, and he said he wants you –

He called you baby.

You breathe in, trying to scrape up some courage from the bottom of your lungs, wishing in the back of your mind under everything else that you’d chosen literally anything else to go to bed in than your Tweedie Bird shirt from Six Flags. 

“I don’t understand, Frankie. Please help me understand.” 

With a monumental sigh, he rubs his wide hand across his face and up into his hair, his other hand lifting his cap up off his head so his fingers can dig into his curls. It’s only then that you realize Benny’s cowboy hat he wore last night is gone and his tried and true Standard Oil ball cap is back. Meaning he must have gone home at some point. When did he realize (or remember) that he’d left you that voicemail? 

“I’m gonna get my ass kicked,” he murmurs, eyes darting like a fox to your bedroom door. “Maybe that’s exactly what I deserve.”

“He’s not here.” This great thing arcs between you, the emptiness a presence and clarity all at the same time. 

“What do you mean? Where is he?”

“We broke up.”

“When? Why?”

“Last night, after we left the bar. We got into an argument. He doesn’t like the way . . .”

Frankie – physically, mentally, emotionally, fundamentally – overwhelms you. He’s across the room in an instant, closer than you think he’s ever been before. But maybe this is the first and only time you’ve ever allowed yourself to enjoy it. Revel in his closeness and let this caged feeling in your chest break free. You touch his chest with the flat of your palm, the size of it, the breadth of him, staggering. You literally feel weak at the knees. 

“He doesn’t like the way what?” His voice luxuriates in his throat – warm, deep. He sounds like what you imagine a hot spring feels like against your skin.

“He didn’t like the way I looked at you.” Your fingers make circles where they did into his shirt. His hands have found their way, after all this time, to your waist. “The way I always look at you, Frankie.”

His breath, subsequent to the ghost of his lips, across your forehead is so gentle it makes you close your eyes, to block out one sense to encourage another. 

You feel him swallow even though he’s a foot away from you.

“Why –,” he stops, and starts again, just like on the phone call, “why do you look at me . . . when you have him?”

“Oh, Frankie.” His grip on your waist tightens as if you’re about to disappear forever. “I took him because I can’t have you.” 

You blame the tears on the hangover, the headache, and the way he takes your chin between his thumb and knuckle. 

Grateful.

He’s looking at you, eyes soft, mouth curved into a disbelieving smile, with gratitude. 

“He’s the furthest thing from you because I tried to get you out of my system – I did – I promise. I can’t lose our friendship, Frankie, but it’s killing me . . . not having you. Nick said it was obvious the way I felt about you and that was a problem for our relationship, so he tried to make me choose between you and him and every time, without a doubt, I’ll always choose–,”

This is the right time, he supposes. 

Hand over your cheek, he holds you still in silence to press his mouth to yours. The final word of your sentence dies on his tongue, muffled by a soft groan of surprise. Your breath is terrible, your skin is oily and damp, he knows he stinks like the bottom of a wet bar, but he can’t find himself to care. Your mouth opens to take him and the hand on your cheek sinks to your neck as you both move past the initial shock of I’m finally getting to do this and you’re not pulling away and into an actual, proper, deep kiss that sends sparks into his toes. Your tongue marks the bottom of his mouth, your arms going around his neck like you want more – you need more – and Frankie pulls back.

Not only because he’s slightly dizzy but because he a) won’t fuck you for the first time on your living room floor and b) absolutely will not do it hungover. 

“Breakfast. Do you like . . . uhm, breakfast?” He can’t quite focus on a single spot on your face, eyes half-lidded and gaze blurred.

You giggle, letting his beard tickle your nose as you sneak your face into his neck. He sways a bit with you, his arms around your back, and you don’t think he’s even realizing what he’s doing.

“Yes, Frankie. I like breakfast. I eat it almost every day, in fact.”

He grunts, neck suddenly flushed, embarrassed. “Sorry, I mean –,”

“I know what you mean, baby.” You lean back and run your fingers through the thatch of curls at the back of his neck. Both of you are so grimy but you can’t care. “I’d love breakfast.”

Frankie smiles his Frankie smile and the thing in your chest is illuminated in gold. 

“How do you feel about conchas?” 

Translations:

Como tu amiga, te ruego que se lo digas. Por favor, no puedo hacer esto por mucho más tiempo. Estarías más feliz y ella estaría más feliz. No me mires así, sabes que lo único que quiere es que la beses y la beses y luego hagas otras cosas. = As your friend, I beg you to tell her. Please, I can't do this for much longer. You would be happier and she would be happier. Don't look at me like that, you know all she wants is for you to kiss her and kiss her and then do other things.

¡Estúpido! ¿La llamaste? = Idiot! Did you call her?

Déjame en paz. Voy a decirle. Ella lo sabrá. = Leave me alone. I am going to tell her. She will know.

#SpaceSistersSecretValentine #frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #triple frontier #frankie morales x you #francisco catfish morales #triple frontier fanfiction #francisco morales #pedro pascal characters

[leahwllmsn]

16,904 | leah williamson x reader

so this was something I wrote a few years ago and I decided to change it into a leah fic cause I've been so obsessed :-)

hope you like it!

--

Melbourne

October, 2023

You finally tell your friends that you’ve been talking to someone you met online on a Friday night. The response you got is that they all think you're crazy, and you can’t blame them—saying that you have a tiny crush on this blonde who’s almost twice your height and likes football and country music without actually knowing if this said blonde exists is kind of crazy.

But you really do like talking to Leah and you could only hope that Leah is Leah and not some fifty-year-old man. 

“You don’t even know what she looks like,” one of your friends snorts. 

“It’s not always about the looks,” you argue.

“That’s true,” another one of your friends chimed in. “But you gotta admit, the looks matter a lot.”

You were about to correct her and say no, they do not, because yeah, sure, Leah is so freaking gorgeous based on the pictures on her profile, but what matters the most is that she’s so kind, and funny, and just overall amazing.

Instead you kept your mouth shut. A part of you don’t want to share Leah with anyone just yet. 

(And another part of you still needs the confirmation that that is actually Leah because god damn it Leah is the most beautiful woman you have ever seen and you wish that it’s really her.)

—

6 Oct, 9:02 pm

y/n: I told my friends about you. they think it’s weird that I’m starting something with you when we’ve never met  

y/n: it’s not weird, is it? 

leahw6: starting something huh? ;) 

y/n: shut up 

y/n: we met on tinder. what were you expecting to find? a math tutor? 

leahw6: ...  

leahw6: you’re really funny, love

leahw6: and no, it’s not weird 

y/n: good 

y/n: and for the record, even if they think it’s weird I couldn’t care less 

—

6 Oct, 9:25 pm

leahw6: just to be clear 

leahw6: ‘starting something’ that means you want to date me right 

y/n: how else could I mean that 

leahw6: idk maybe you were the one looking for a math tutor 

— 

London

October, 2023

“Where did you meet her again?”

“Tinder.”

“Tinder,” Lia repeats.

“Yes,” Leah nods. “When we were in Australia for the World Cup… I got bored one night and decided to go on Tinder.”

“And you found her there,” Lia muses, sipping on her cup of coffee. “Wait, so she lives in Australia?”

“Melbourne, yes.”

“And does she know you’re all the way here in London?”

Leah hesitates before answering. “No.”

“No?”

“No.”

“Oh boy,” Lia gives her a sympathetic look. “Does she know who you are?”

“Me… as in Leah?” Leah gives her teammate a confused look. “Yeah?”

“You as in you’re Leah Williamson.”

“Oh,” realization sunk in Leah’s face. “Then no. I mentioned I like football and she said she hates it. So, I doubt she knows who I am.”

“Oh boy.”

“I know,” Leah drops her head on the table. “I’ll tell her soon but what if it’s a deal breaker?” 

“Which part? The part where you’re a famous footballer or you live thousands of kilometers away?”

Leah grimaces “Distance problem. She already said she hates football and wouldn’t dare step foot in a football game, but it’s fine! That’s not a problem because I can and will convince her to watch one of my games.”

Lia laughs. “Sure, buddy.”

“I really like her,” Leah continues. “She’s funny and witty and passive aggressive sometimes but it’s so endearing. She has great taste in music, great taste in movies and books, and just great taste overall—”

Leah’s words get cut off with Lia’s hand on her mouth. “You’ve known her for a few weeks and this is already how you act?” Lia chuckles, taking her hand away. “You got it bad, Williamson.”

Leah groans. “I know.”

“Just tell her now. If she likes you the same way, I have a feeling that she wouldn’t mind either.”

—

24 Oct, 4:13 pm

leahw6: can we talk ?

y/n: sounds serious 

leahw6: kind of 

y/n: are you getting tired of me already :( 

leahw6: ofc not 

y/n: oh okay :D 

leahw6: idk how to say this 

y/n: do you want me to call you? 

leahw6: oh god no 

leahw6: omg wait 

leahw6: I didn’t mean that in a bad way I swear  

leahw6: it’s just that if you call me I’ll be hearing your voice for the first time and I’ll be even more nervous  

leahw6: and I don’t think I’ll be able to put out a coherent sentence bc I’ve been imagining so much what your voice would sound like with that face and all my guesses are that you have an extremely hot voice, raspy maybe?  

leahw6: but actually no I don’t think you have a raspy voice 

leahw6: a deep one maybe and holy shit a deep voice with an australian accent? I’ll faint on the spot I’m afraid  

leahw6: no you can’t call me 

y/n: okay...? 

leahw6: I’m really sorry please ignore all that 

y/n: I won’t ignore it, it’s adorable  

leahw6: you think I’m weird don’t you 

y/n: absolutely 

leahw6: great 

y/n: it just makes me like you even more

leahw6: I live in london 

y/n: as in the one in england … ? 

leahw6: is there another london I don’t know about 

[incoming call from y/n]

leahw6: why are you calling me ?! 

leahw6: I told you I’m too nervous rn 

y/n: I don’t get it. it says that you were 2km away? 

leahw6: yeah… I was on vacation… kind of...

y/n: kind of?

y/n: so you don’t actually live here? 

leahw6: y/n if I was only 2 km away from you I would make up excuses just so I can see you everyday 

y/n: how many km is it instead 

leahw6: between us?

leahw6: google says it’s 16,904 km

y/n: ??! holy shit 

leahw6: I know 

leahw6: look, I get it if you want to stop this. not everyone is cut out for long distance

y/n: we’re like

y/n: on opposite sides of the world

leahw6: I know

y/n: do you want to stop this? 

leahw6: I don’t 

y/n: then we won’t 

leahw6: are you sure 

y/n: let me call you 

leahw6: NO 

y/n: leah

leahw6: give me a day to prepare 

y/n: you’re so dumb

y/n: but fine 

y/n: do I at least get a facetime

leahw6: FACETIME? 

leahw6: no. you get a phone call. voice only

y/n: r u catfishing 

y/n: I knew it you’re too beautiful to be real 

leahw6: ha ha 

y/n: call me tomorrow okay lee? 

leahw6: okay

leahw6: and y/n

leahw6:  thank you

y/n: what for

leahw6: for giving us a chance

y/n: leah I’d be stupid not to 

—

Melbourne

November, 2023

You're in the middle of a meeting with boring, old men in suits when your phone rings—very loudly at that. You curse yourself for forgetting to put your phone on silent, quickly pressing the red circle on the screen, but not before smiling at the caller ID.

When the meeting finishes an hour later, you immediately pick up your phone and dial Leah’s number.

“Hey you.” 

You smile at the voice on the other end. “Sorry I couldn’t pick up. I was in a meeting.”

“Oh sorry, bad timing. Thought you were finished for the day”

“Bad timing indeed,” you chuckle. “It rang really loudly.”

“Y/n,” you could hear Leah’s soft giggles. “The silent feature exists for a reason.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” you take a seat in your office chair and sigh contently. “I’m glad it rang though.”

“How so?” 

“I saw your name and my mood instantly picked up.”

Leah snorts. “You’re such a sweet talker, mate.” 

You throw her head back in laughter. “But it’s true!”

Leah doesn’t say anything after that, all you could hear is the sound of chatter and honking of cars. “Where are you?”

“I just had breakfast, I’m walking to the… office.”

“You called me when you were having breakfast? Am I that much more interesting than whoever you were with?” you ask, your tone teasing.

“Of course you are,” is Leah’s reply and you could feel your stomach flipping upside down.

“Now who’s the sweet talker?”

“Still you.”

“Says the person who couldn’t stop telling me I’m pretty when we facetimed for the first time.”

Leah laughs and you really, really love the sound. “But you are pretty.”

“But I don’t think I need to hear it every five minutes.”

“Just accept the compliments, love.”

“Okay,” you relent, a grin spreading across your face. “Who did you have breakfast with?”

“Just my team– colleagues. My colleagues, Beth, Viv and Lia.”

You go silent for a few seconds, the last name ringing a bell in your head. “Lia as in your ex?”

“The one and only.”

“Oh.”

Leah must’ve sensed the jealousy in your voice (but honestly, you aren't jealous, you’re really not), because the next thing you know Leah is laughing and telling you that it didn’t work out between her and Lia because they were better off as friends.

“You see her everyday though,” you say, your voice less confident than before.

“And what about it?”

“You don’t see me everyday,” you pout, staring at a polaroid picture of Leah smiling at the camera that is stuck to the wall of your cubicle. Leah sent you a handwritten letter along with that picture a few days ago. Your roommate was the one who received it and it went something like this:

“Oh my god, there’s no way this is your Leah.”

“What?” 

“This! Is this really her?” 

“Is that Lee’s mail for me? Did you open it?!” 

“I got curious!” 

“Give me that!” 

“You never mentioned that she looks like this!” 

“I just haven’t shown you what she looks like ‘cause everyone kept on teasing me!” 

“Because she could be a fake for all we know! But holy shit, she’s soo stunning. Does she have a twin sister?”

“No.”

“A twin brother?” 

“No.” 

“Can I have her instead then?” 

“What the—no?!” 

“Fine, be stingy like that.” 

“...I’m really fine with us like this.”

You blink away images of your roommate in your head and focus your attention back to Leah’s voice. “What did you say?”

“I said I’m okay with not being able to see you everyday,” Leah repeats. “Talking to you over the phone is enough.”

You smile. “It’s enough for me too. It’d be great to have you next to me but this is good too.”

People would think otherwise but for you, having Leah a phone call away really is enough; you'd take hearing Leah's laughter through the phone than not hearing it at all.

—

10 Nov, 1:11 pm

y/n: I got a dog

leahw6: ???!! 

leahw6: Y/N CALL ME OMG 

leahw6: I WANT TO SEE 

y/n: you’re more excited to see him than me :// 

leahw6: YES 

y/n: excuse me 

leahw6: WHAT’S HIS NAME 

y/n: robert 

leahw6: ROBERT? 

y/n: yes, robert 

leahw6: he's now my favourite

leahw6: SEND PICS

y/n: :/ 

y/n:

leahw6: you know you're my favourite too  

y/n: :D 

leahw6: but I think I like robert more than you OMG HE'S ADORABLE!!!!

y/n: bye 

—

London

December, 2023

leahw6:  want to hear a funny story

y/n:  what is it

leahw6:  a guy tried to hit on me tonight

y/n:  excuse me???

[incoming call from y/n] 

“That’s not funny,” is the first thing Leah hears once she accepts the call.

“Hello to you too,” Leah stifles a laugh. You sound tense and Leah can just picture the frown on your face.

“Leah.”

“Yes, babe?” Leah learnt that the quickest way to melt away your anger is to use pet names and so for any argument (even if Leah is in the wrong), Leah would always win.

This time it doesn’t seem to work. “How is that funny again?” 

“Darling, I’m just teasing you.”

“Did a guy really hit on you?”

“Yes,” Leah answers honestly. “He bought me a drink.”

“I see.”

Leah doesn’t like how dejected you sound. So she presses the button for facetime and the first thing she sees when you accept is her girlfriend pouting at the screen.

“What are you doing?” Leah giggles.

“Is all of this funny to you?” you pout even more, your phone screen illuminating your face in the dark room.

“Did I wake you up?” Leah asks instead. She knows you like to sleep in on weekends.

“Yes, but that’s fine. You know I want to talk to you any chance I get,” you answer, shifting so that you’re now lying on your side.

“You’re the best,” Leah says as she climbs in bed, tucking herself under the covers.

“Obviously,” you scoff. “Unlike that stupid guy who doesn’t know you’re off-limits.”

Leah grins at the annoyed look you’re giving her. “Baby?”

“Hm?”

“It’s so cute when you’re jealous.”

You roll your eyes. “Of course I’m jealous. He gets to be within your presence while I’m stuck here, freaking sixteen thousand kilometres away from you. It’s unfair.”

Leah sends her a soft smile. “But you’re the one I’m talking to every day, so who’s the real winner here?” The frown is still present on your face and Leah wants nothing more than to kiss it away—so that’s what she did.

“Leah, what the hell are you doing?”

“Kissing you,” Leah answers simply, kissing her screen again.

And when Leah hears laughter from the other end, her heart feels much lighter.

“Lee, have you cleaned your phone? That’s gross.”

“Shut up. I’m trying to be romantic.”

“Cute, but maybe clean your phone first.”

Leah rolls her eyes at you, her smile never leaving her face. “At least I made you laugh.”

“You always make me laugh,” you say, your face so close to her camera that the entirety of Leah’s screen is just a close up of your face. Leah’s heart swells in adoration at the sight.

“Did you have a good night's sleep?” Leah asks.

You hum in answer. “Now it’s your turn to get a good night’s sleep.”

You could see how hard Leah is trying to keep her eyes open.

“This sucks, time difference sucks” Leah pouts. “I just want to talk to you.”

“Baby,” you give her a sad smile. “It is how it is. We’ll talk more when you wake up.”

“Yes, captain,” Leah gives you grin, her eyes fully closed.

“Good night, Leah. Sweet dreams.”

You watch Leah go to sleep for a few minutes, the sound of her soft snores making it seem like she’s right next to you. 

That night Leah dreams that you're right next to her, holding her close and keeping her warm on the cold winter night.

#leah williamson #leah williamson x reader #woso #woso community #woso fanfics #leah williamson imagine #awfc x reader #lionesses x reader #woso x reader

[sl-ut]

Wait a sequel to the drunk reader partying fic drabble thing where abbys trying to get you to drink water and you're refusing and arguing with her in your drunk state insisting you're fine LMAOOO (you're not)

party girl

pairing: college!abby anderson x fem!reader

description: the cheer team won nationals, and they’re ready to party. only problem is, there’s a team-only pregame, which means abby can’t keep track of how much her girlfriend has to drink.

warnings: alcohol consumption, reader is VERY drunk in this, some creepy men (ew always), making out, femme reader, cursing, i was sorta rlly high when i wrote this sorry excuse any badness

words: 1.2K

date posted: 06/04/24

more college!abby

it's quite rare for abby to go to a party without her girlfriend. in fact, abby typically only goes as a formality, but she likes when her girl makes an effort to come with her. unfortunately for her, the cheer team decided that they would be having a squad-only pregame, which meant that abby would be wrapped into driving her drunk friends around before (and probably after) the party. at least she was getting a pretty steady stream of snaps from her girl throughout the night, but as soon as she starts getting the ones from nora, she gets worried.

they're all videos of y/n shotgunning, funneling, and demolishing lines of shots in record time. normally, she wasn't very possessive over her girlfriend, but she knew from their very early relationship that y/n could not handle her liquor, so she knew she was in for quite the treat when she got there.

but she could not have imagined what she was about to see the moment she walked into the crowded house. it took her a moment to truly realise what kind of spectacle could have caused every frat guy in a mile radius to flock together so wildly, until she realised that her girlfriend was swaying to the music atop the kitchen table, her skirt hiked up over the meat of her thighs and she didn't even seem to be aware of it.

abby quickly pushed her way through the crowd of boys, roughly shoving one of the ones at the front who had been attempting to angle his phone to get a proper up-skirt shot. y/n's eyes popped open at the sound of her name, an excited grin appearing on her face as she all but leaped off of the table and into her arms (thank god for all those muscles).

she laughed as her girlfriend practically wrapped herself around her, pressing sloppy kisses against the side of her face.

"heyyyy baby," y/n smiled drunkenly up at her, "i've been waiting for you."

"seems like it," abby laughed, "you having fun?"

"more now that you're here," she leaned up to kiss her, and abby almost gagged at the taste of every alcohol she could name on her tongue. "we won today."

"i know, i was there. you were so so so good, beautiful."

"mhm," y/n smiled, "i love winning. i feel like such a winner right now."

abby was the first person to understand the feeling, it was the exact same rush of confidence she felt in her own veins after her own games. she had been excited to take to the stands this time around, watching and cheering for her girlfriend in the same way that she had always done for her.

"you are a winner, baby."

she fluttered her eyelashes at her, "and i can't wait for you to give me my reward later."

"reward?" abby asked, feigning innocence.

"oh please, i know you could tell what i was wearing under here," she pursed her lips, fingers tugging at her dark red bra strap, "if you aren't gonna give me my reward, i guess i'll have to take it for myself."

abby shook in head in disbelief, "you're gonna have to sober up some if that's what you were wanting."

y/n leaned in to tug abby's reddening earlobe between her teeth, "no matter how sober i get, i'll still be drunk on you baby."

"oh, that one was bad," abby tilted her head back as she laughed, one hand coming down to grasp at her girlfriend's lower back, "you're cheesy when you're drunk."

"what, are you lactose in tolerant all the sudden? maybe i'll have to find someone who likes my cheese."

abby gripped her hips, "okay, okay, i'm sorry. you know i love your cheese."

"i know," y/n grinned, "you can make it up to me by dancing with me."

abby nodded, "that i can do."

she allowed her girlfriend to lead her into the crowd of sweaty bodies, easily pressing herself into her back and holding her hips as she moved her hips into hers. she was happy enough to just sway side to side, let her girl do all of the heavy work as she ground her ass into her groin with one arm slung back and around abby's neck, holding on for dear life as the blonde began pressing kisses along the side of her throat.

y/n's body tipped to the side the a hard push, both of their attentions being turned to the tall brunette who scowled down at y/n with a mean stare.

"watch it, bitch."

abby doesn't even remember moving, just taking hold of the front of the girl's shirt in her fist, pulling her close and breathing her own warning into her face. y/n watched in amusement as the brunette shrunk at the threat and moved as quickly through the crowd as possible. y/n laughed with glee, hugging her girlfriend tightly.

"you are so so so sexy when you get protective over me."

abby took her by the hand, pushing her ahead and guiding her by her hips to the kitchen, where they were quickly recruited to join nora and manny in a game of beer pong. abby reassured her girlfriend by promising to grab her a new drink (it was just a coke), and snickering behind her hand at how oblivious her girlfriend was to her scheming. once the cup was empty, abby changed her tactic to offering her girlfriend shot after shot of water under the guise of vodka, laughing to herself when her girlfriend commented on how drunk she must be if it wasn't burning her throat so badly.

after winning the game, y/n decided that it was time to sneak away with her girlfriend to the bathroom, where she made quick work of her top as she made a rather sloppy seduction attempt. abby had to use every ounce of her self control to push her hands away as y/n tried to unbuckle her belt.

"c'mon baby," abby groaned as she felt her hot tongue drag across her collar bone, the first few buttons of her shirt having been undone the moment that the door had been shut behind her, "cut that out."

"what? you don't want me?" she whined.

"i do, believe me i do," she groaned, taking her hands in her own and forcing her to look at her, "but not here, and not while you're this drunk."

y/n groaned, "sometimes i hate how good of a person you are."

abby chuckled and kissed her on the cheek, "i know, i know, me too. now let's get some water into you because i do plan on giving you that reward tonight."

#reader insert #x reader #imagines #lesbian #abby anderson #abby anderson imagine #abby anderson x reader #abby tlou #abby anderson x you #college!abby anderson

[jayybugg]

poison

Theodore Nott x Fem Reader Based on Poison by Brent Faiyaz

Summary: You've poisoned Theo's mind and it's driving him completely insane.

Warnings: Language, Slight time skips, Jealous Theo, Smut (18+), No specific house is mentioned.

Word Count: 3.6K

Music:

Note: HI! This is my first time posting a fic on here so please be patient with me. Any feedback will be great but be nice. ALSO, a big thanks to @pizzaapeteer for proofreading and the pretty banner (created by @cafekitsune). Other than that, ENJOY.

Know you ride it right, I might just die tonight. but you know I’m still coming through, baby.

Friends with benefits. That's all you were to Theo, nothing more, nothing less. It had surprised him that you happily obliged to keep it a secret. He still couldn’t believe you didn’t make a big deal about it.

His fleeting glances at you in class, the hallways, and social events never seemed to bother you. Outside the bedroom, you never batted him an eye. You paid him no attention. It plagued his mind to see how unbothered you acted in public, yet you were always whining and begging for him in private.

Despite how you treated him in public, he always found himself at your mercy and door. The sex intoxicated him like a drug, making him feel like he was on cloud nine. You took his breath away like no one else could. Every time. He could die at your mercy right then and there.

I know it's bad for me, and you know it tastes so sweet. I think I need your abuse, baby.

Theo knew it would be trouble to continue this relationship with you. It was terrorizing his mind, thinking about you constantly. Day and night, his mind turned. He knew he needed to end it.

So, he tried, but it only lasted two days.

His attempt to avoid you failed miserably. In those two days, he couldn't stop thinking about you. His mind lingered on your scent, voice, and the way you tasted. He craved you.

Merlin, he missed you.

Before he could register where his feet were taking him, he had already found his way in front of your dorm.  Knocking on the door, he was half expecting you to not be in or at least not answer.

But fortunately for his heart, and unfortunately for his mind, you answered.

"Teddy?" your soft voice filled his ears, and it took all his strength not to fall to his knees right there. He hated the nickname when Mattheo and Enzo teased him with it. But when you said it, he felt at ease. The childhood name that followed him all the way into his teen years was only a tool for his friends to use to tease him.

But you? When you said it, it reminded him of the happy times that he had as a child and with you.

"I need you." Was all he said, pushing past you into the room. He shoved his jacket off, turning to you. You had closed the door, tilting your head in curiosity as you watched him.

He glances down at you, taking in all your glory. He bit his lip as his eyes trailed your outfit, dressed in just a tight spaghetti-strap shirt, no bra evident to him. Continuing his gaze down to your delicious thighs covered only by tight boy shorts. He'd never seen you look hotter with your hair pulled into a ponytail and glasses perched on your head. The fact you had answered the door looking like that. Not knowing who it was, lit a fire in Theo.

"Fuck," Theo groaned before closing the distance between you two.

Girl, you do damage to me. You know I love it, yeah, I love you. Ain't nothing better for me now than your poison.

Unbeknownst to you, you were breaking Theo down piece by piece. His days became increasingly hard to tolerate if he didn't catch a glimpse of you. Even when he did see you, his need just grew more and more. Theo was starting to think that this had to be some kind of curse. You had to be some kind of poison to make Theo like this. 

"Theo? Theo! hello?!" Blaise slammed his hand on the table, bringing Theo out of whatever trance he was in. He sat with Enzo, Mattheo Draco, and Blaise in the Great Hall. Theo wasn’t very interested in what they were talking about, so he tuned out whatever they were speaking about. Theo eyed Blaise grumpily for having ruined his thoughts.

"Fuck do you want, Blaise?!" Theo snapped at the boy, shooting a menacing glare at his other friends, who were laughing.

"Did you hear anything I just said to you?" Blaise raised his eyebrow at him. "Obviously not." Theo grumbles, "What is it?"

"Party tonight. In Ravenclaw. Are you coming?" Draco repeats Blaise's question to Theo.

Before Theo could tell them to fuck off for bothering him about a stupid party, he saw you enter the Great Hall. Laughing with your friends, he caught the end of your words "Yeah, I'll see you at the party tonight," you said. He watched you hug your friend goodbye before separating from them to sit at your respective tables.

"Yeah, I'll come." Theo said quickly. The four boys shoot Theo a glance, confusion and suspicion spread across their faces.

"Why?" Enzo asked. Enzo wasn’t sure if he had heard Theo correctly. Theo narrows his eyes at him, "What do you mean 'why'? you just asked me to come."

"Yeah, but you always decline so, we expected you to say no." Draco says, shrugging his shoulder.

Theo huffs, annoyed that this conversation was going on for longer than he would have liked. "Whatever. I said I'm coming so shut up." Theo snapped, grabbing his stuff, and stalking out of the Great Hall.

At Theo's abrupt exit, Draco and Enzo share a look of confusion, but shrug it off before continuing to eat. Meanwhile, Blaise and Mattheo wear knowing smirks, having caught Theo's wandering eyes towards you.

Angel of the night, drowned between your thighs. I’m still here, ain't no excuse, baby.

The next time Theo saw you was in Transfiguration class, sitting in front of him, not helping his already preoccupied mind. As Professor McGonagall lectured, all Theo could think about was propping you up on one of the desks and letting your thighs give him engulf him with warmth as he used his tongue to pleasure you.

Theo massaged his temples as he tried to get you out of his mind. It was working until he heard your soft giggles, his eyes shooting open to witness you laughing at whatever Fred Weasley had whispered in your ear. He felt anger boil within him as he watched you smile brightly at Fred as the redhead’s hand rubbed your lower back. He couldn’t believe his eyes. Right in front of him? Did you truly not care about him? How could you flirt right in front of him?

There was no clear explanation for why he was so angry. No justification for why you were filling up his mind every second of the day. No reason why he couldn't function when he wasn't around you. You were supposed to be just his friend with benefits. A no-string-attached fling.

As soon as class ended, you left without a glance towards him. Not only that but with a Weasley twin on either side of your arm. Theo felt strapped in his seat, unable to move. Even though he wanted to chase after and punch the twins for touching you, he physically couldn't move.

"So, we were right, Blaise." Mattheo's amused voice states, causing Theo to drag his eyes from your table to him.

"It seems like we were, Mattheo." Blaise says, matching his amusement. The two of them snicker knowingly.

"What are you two idiots chatting about?" Theo mumbles, gathering his stuff.

"Oh, nothing. Just talking about how you like Y/N." Mattheo teased. Theo's eyes widened before he narrowed them at his two friends. "I don't like her."

"Oh, but you do," Blaise says teasingly as Theo pushes past them and out of the classroom. The two boys follow him, continuing their torment, "You were burning holes into Weasley's back as you watched the two of them interact."

"If looks could kill, Weasley would've been six feet under," Mattheo adds with a laugh.

Theo rolls his eyes at his friend's accusations, "They were just laughing obnoxiously loud." He mumbles.

"You could barely hear her laugh." Mattheo rolls his eyes in response, "This isn't just some small crush you have. This is a humongous crush you have on Y/N."

"I do not have a crush on her!" Theo yells, causing people to glance over at him. Theo cleared his throat and glared as Blaise and Mattheo laughed at him.

"Okay, you don’t have a crush on her." Mattheo smirked, "So, therefore, I’m going to ask her out tonight." Mattheo gives Theo a challenging look, waiting for him to fight him on his comment.

Theo looked at Mattheo, searching for any sign that he was bluffing, "What?"

Mattheo walked past his friend with a bright smile, "You heard me, mate."

I see you in my sleep, I'm scarred beyond belief. Ain't nothing you can't make me do, baby.

Theo struggled to get a nap after class before he had to face you at the party and try to contain himself. He was trying to convince himself that everything was fine. Trying to convince himself that he didn’t like you more than a friend.

But of course, his mind had different ideas.

Only he would suffer not only experiencing wet dreams but regular daydreams about you. Theo groaned, closing his eyes. He didn't have a moment of peace with you, always in his thoughts. The buzzing of his phone made him pry his eyes open. Your name lit across his screen, causing him to sit up and grab it.

The text read: teddy, can you cover for me to professor hooch? I reallyyyyy don't wanna go to her class tomorrow? please?

Theo sighed, already coming up with the perfect cover story for you. It had become second nature for him to help you without much of a second thought. If you had asked him to burn down all of Hogwarts, he would've casted the incendio spell in an instant. Another buzz came from his phone. Another text:

i'll make it up to you. whatever you want. tonight, tomorrow, whenever.

As innocent as the text read, Theo knew the underlying message in it. He blew a raspberry as he fell back on his bed. You had him wrapped around your finger.

And that was dangerous.

Eventually, it was time for the party. By the time Theo got there, it was in full swing. His worry grew when Draco told him that Mattheo had left for the party first. Mattheo was known to be notoriously late to everything.

He wasn't going to seriously ask you out, was he?

Theo knew that Mattheo found you attractive. All his friends did. He remembered when the group of them had seen you step off the train at Hogwarts after a long summer. The blatant staring that Enzo did was enough to draw their attention to you. While Theo wholeheartedly agreed, a part of him grew jealous at the thought of them even thinking about you. 

Theo entered the party, scanning the room for you. He immediately found you leaning against a wall. Pansy and Blaise are on your left and Mattheo is on your right. Mattheo stood dangerously close to you, running his hand up and down your arm. Theo watched the interaction, feeling the same anger from transfiguration boil again as his eyes narrowed at his friend. Mattheo’s eyes caught Theo’s causing Mattheo to chuckle at his friend’s anger. He smirked and waved at Theo, pissing Theo off even more.

Theo made his way over to the group, watching as your eyes lit up as he got closer.

"Teddy, you came! Blaise and Mattheo said you were considering not coming." You smiled at him, causing his anger to subside. He wanted to pull you into his arms and tell you that anywhere you were, he would be there too.

"That's weird because I told them that I was coming." Theo glanced at the two, who were desperately holding back their snickers.

"Oh, must've slipped our minds." Mattheo grinned, "Y/N, dance with me?"

Theo’s anger returned quickly at Mattheo’s question, and he resisted the urge to punch the shithead in his face. "Yeah, of course." You smiled at Mattheo, taking his hand, and moving to the dance floor. Theo felt his fist start to shake with anger as he watched the two of them dance. Blaise's laughter made his head snap to him with a pointed glare.

Pansy rolled her eyes, slapping Blaise's arm. "Stop laughing, you idiot! He's obviously quite upset." Pansy said. Blaise grinned, "Oh, but why is our poor Theo so upset? Is it because he has a crush on her?"

"Fuck you, Blaise." Theo avoided the question, which only made Blaise grin harder. Blaise gazed past Theo, quipping, "Oh, no thank you but you know, those two might start fucking soon."

Theo's head whipped around quickly, almost giving him whiplash. The sight in front of him fueled his anger further. Mattheo and you were grinding on each other, as you smiled at whatever he said to you. Theo couldn’t do this any longer, he had enough. Theo marched over to the pair, grabbing your arm and yanking you out of Mattheo's grasp. "I need you." was all Theo said as an explanation as he dragged you out of the party.

Theo angrily muttered to himself as he dragged you to his dorm. He was so preoccupied with cursing his friends that he didn't even notice the amused and knowing grin on your face. Pulling you inside his dorm, he pushes you against the wall planting kisses on your neck.

Girl, you know I play my role when I'm inside that. With my hands around your throat, I know you like that. Girl, I'll do anything to hear you scream my name. I love your game, I do.

He knew your likes, your dislikes, your hobbies. He knows when you're annoyed, he knows when you're sad, he knows when you're happy.

He knew that you bounced your leg when you were anxious. He knew that your eyes darted around when you were trying to come up with a lie. He knew that you press your thighs together when you're horny. He knew that you get a gleam in your eye when you're being mischievous.

Theo knew that you poked out your lip when you were about to cry. He knew that you hopped up and down when you were excited. He knew that you blink fast when you’re trying to stop your tears from falling. He knew you.

So, when he finally caught that gleam in your eye as he kissed up your neck, he immediately pulled back and looked at you.

"Tell me." Theo said, after studying you. You bit your lip in amusement, "Tell you what?"

"What did Mattheo and Blaise tell you?" Theo asked.

"Mmm, I don't know what you're talking about." You smiled at him innocently, though the gleam was still there in your eyes.

In an instance, he picked you up and threw you on the bed, yanking your skirt down. Overwhelmed by lust at the reveal of your emerald, green panties. He eagerly bent down, becoming face-to-face with your pussy. Theo knew what he had to do to get the truth out of you. He trailed his fingers down your clothed clit, causing you to shiver and whimper. Theo loved hearing your moans as he continued to drag his finger up and down, tauntingly, "Still don't know what I'm talking about, baby?"

"Nope, not at all." You said. Theo smirked slightly, moving his thumb to rub your clit. You squirmed slightly under his touch, before receiving a slap on your thigh, "Stop moving."

Theo kept rubbing your clit at a slow, teasing pace with the cloth of your underwear still acting as a barrier between the contact. "Teddy, come on...." You whined.

Theo looked up at you with feigned innocence, "What do you mean?"

"I need-" You halt your words, a moan stopping your words. As Theo rubbed his fingers faster, you rushed out, "I need something, anything of you inside me."

"Hmmm." Theo hummed, moving your panties to the side, "What did Mattheo and Blaise tell you?" Theo blew slightly on your core causing you to shiver, "I'll finger you if you tell me."

Persuaded by his promise you confess, “They told me you liked me. They said that you were super jealous of other guys around me." you gushed out, eager for more of Theo. "We decided to do stuff to make you mad and jealous for these past few weeks."

Theo tried to fight off the redness that was climbing up his neck, "Few weeks?" This whole time, you knew what you were doing. You were terrorizing him on purpose.

You nodded, biting your lip, "They came to me-" you moaned out as Theo flicked his tongue up and down you, "And said you liked me." More words started gushing out as Theo licked you faster, inserting a finger as he did.

Of course, his two friends had been aware you his budding feelings for weeks now. Theo cursed silently at how observant Blaise and Mattheo were. "And?" he asked, taking a breath. He inserted another finger, going back down to suck and lick on your clit.

“I didn't believe them," you whimpered, letting out an airy breath as you felt yourself coming close. “I thought you just liked the sex, and I didn't want to get my feelings hurt,” you admitted.

He looked up at you, his eyes softening at your confession. You didn't need to explain further, because he knew what you meant. He realized that both of you were in the same situation. Too scared to make a move, in case your feelings aren't reciprocated. Theo couldn't stay too mad at you and decided to forgive you for trying to make him jealous.

Theo pulled away from your pussy, causing you to whine. You were silenced quickly by Theo kissing you. He had only one thought running through his mind: You liked him. You wrapped your arms around him, pulling him close.

"Don't do it again." Theo muttered against your lips, causing a smirk to spread across your face, "I don't know it was kind of fun, flirting with all those guys in front of you."

Theo pulled away from you slightly, raising an eyebrow at you, "Oh yeah?"

"Mhm, Mattheo was nice to dance with and-" cutting you off mid-sentence, Theo had flipped you over to all fours, positioning himself at your entrance. Before you could comprehend what had happened, the undoing of his zipper and the sound of his pants hitting the floor was heard. "Teddy, wait-" An uncontrollable moan escaped your lips as Theo sank into you. He groaned, his hand wrapping around your throat, picking up the pace of his thrusts. "You’re mine. Not Riddle’s or Weasley’s. No one but mine. Do you understand?" Theo snapped at you.

Struggling to control your moans, you nod which displeases Theo. You whimper at the hard slap Theo lands on your ass. "Use your words, baby. Do you understand me?" Theo keeps at his relentless pace, making your mind blank.  “Yes, Teddy. I understand." You managed to say in between your moans.

"Good girl." Theo smirked, "You're such a pretty, good girl." The praise caused you to moan and whimper under his touch.

"I’m c-close, Teddy. please." You pleaded at the contact of Theo’s hand rubbing skillfully on your clit.

"Cum for me, baby. Go ahead." Theo whispered in your ear. Your release hits you, his words being the tipping point to send you over. Your moans merge with Theo’s as he comes with you.

With heavy breaths, Theo pulls out gently and lightly taps your hip to let you know to relax. You lie down on the bed as he walks to the bathroom. Cleaned up, he returns to take care of you, wiping you down so you can move more freely. He hands you one of his shirts before putting on his pajama pants. You stand, redressing yourself in his shirt before sprawling across Theo's bed.

"When?" You ask, breaking the silence, as Theo cleans up the clothes off his floor. He looked over at you, a smile tugging at his lips as you made yourself comfortable.

"When what?" He finished his task, laying down next to you.

"When did you start liking me?" you elaborated, turning to catch his eyes.

Theo thought for a moment, "I don't know."

"You don't know?"

"I don't know." Theo confirmed, "I remember when I first saw you on the train one year, I thought you were so pretty, but it was no more than that because I didn't know you. Then we had classes with each other, and I got to know you. Somewhere in that I became attracted to you."

You hummed at his explanation, "It was the third year."

Theo raised his eyebrow. He couldn't remember anything significant about his third year. That was the one year where you didn’t have any classes together. It bothered Theo how little he saw you daily that year.

You chuckled at his confusion, "It was when we took the annual trip to Hogsmeade. I was in the bookshop, but I had forgotten a chunk of my money at school." The memory quickly resurfaced to Theo’s mind and his entire face flushed red. You have a love for muggle romantic literature so when you came across four books that you wanted but couldn't afford, Theo decided to gift the other three to you. Though he had gifted them to you secretly.

"Oh Merlin, how in the world do you know about that?" Theo asked. You grinned, "Ah, I can't reveal that to you."

Theo simply shook his head, pulling you close and letting out a content sigh.

"You're poisonous, love, but you're my poison."

#harry potter #slytherin boys #theodore nott #draco malfoy #enzo berkshire #mattheo riddle #blase zabini #hogwart #smut #Spotify

[a-dauntless-daffodil]

the way Pearl instantly slammed down her "check out Marina she's so ***ing AWESOME" line so fast and it's the smoothest verse she spits in the rap battle-

she was SO READY to gush about Marina she was SO THERE for the chance and when it came she didn't even have to THINK

her going from casual barely-worth-my-time roasts and boasts (talking over Frye's turn like she isn't even there) to 'did you just call marina an imaginary friend?? YO ARE YOU CRAZY SHES AMAZING'

and THEN instead of getting defensive or pissed at Frye's 'oh so she's your groupie' jab she just turns hype man literally goes AS IF! LISTEN TO THIS! before bowing out so Marina can freeze Shiver solid by cheerfully taking every passive aggressive compliment from Shiver with a smile, a hearts eyes emoji, and an uno reverse card

Shiver: "Your voice is so haunting (possibly in a bad way) must be nice for your fans (implying it isn't so nice for anyone else)"

Marina, mimicking Shiver's singing: "You're far too kind! (i see you insulting me on the sly) Love your vibe! (that's very cute~) I can learn so much from your style! (i'll give you a taste of your own medicine if you want me to~)"

Shiver: "You remind me of my neighbor's daughter- (grow up) what do they say? Octo see octo do? (stop copying me)"

Marina: "Glad you approve- (im rubber you're glue) your praise has left me moved (not saying what KIND of moved tho). Thanks to your notes (you decide if i mean your feedback or your actual ability to hit musical notes) I'll find my own groove! (you're not actually worth copying for real~)"

Shiver: "Oh, look at the time. Isn't it getting late? (if you keep acting like a kid im going to treat you like one)"

Marina: "Not at all! I could go on like this all night long. (what do you mean? im having so much fun right now!) (oh but is this hard for you? ...do YOU need a break...?)"

and then Pearl barges in with a HOW'S THAT? YOU HAD ENOUGH YET??????

like kudos to Shiver and Frye for laying out some slick jabs, but they were working as two solo acts and didn't have a power couple combo move to counter Pearlina's with m(_ _)m ....they spent the whole time on offensive defense, trying to inflict some deep lyrical cuts while Pearl and Marina were happily tossing out hooks and reeling in fresh lines as they floated high up above on their dumb little rainbow cloud together

legit Pearl's only real reaction to Frye is her going <3 <3 <3 at Marina, and Marina not even treating Shiver as someone she needs to fight with while Shiver repeatedly tries poking at her, which Pearl sees and just effing LOVES ....amazing.......

no matter who you think rapped better, it's pretty clear which pair had the most fun and got the most kicks out of this (the wives)

WHICH IS EVEN FUNNIER BC IT'S HONEST TO COD JUST FRYE BURSTING INTO OFF THE HOOK'S GREEN ROOM AND YELLING AT THEM FOR DARING TO HAVE A CONCERT IN HER TOWN ONLY TO GET SMACKED IN THE FACE BY A RAINBOW LASER BEAM OF GAY MUSIC I LOVE IT XD

#splatoon 3 #pearlina #pearl houzuki #marina ida #off the hook #frye onaga #shiver hohojiro #suffer no fools....

[rubyreduji]

chicken — bsk

summary: the teasing between you and your best friend gets taken a bit too far

tags: smut (minors dni!), best friends!au, non-idol!au warnings: sexual content, grinding, boob sucking wc: 1.9k an: this man is SO FINE why aren’t more people obsessed with him

You and Seungkwan are sitting, listening to K-Pop, as two besties do, when Seungkwan suddenly starts to speak. “You know, I kind of think this album was a bit over hyped.”

“What?!” You screech, jumping to your feet. You’re in utter disbelief that your best friend would just insult your favorite album like that. “Take that back right now Boo Seungkwan!”

“You’re just mad I’m telling the truth,” Seungkwan scoffs.

“It wasn’t over-hyped! It was one of the best albums of the year. You’re just mad that your favorite album didn’t even make it on the charts.” You know it’s a low blow, but Seungkwan 100% started the fight.

“That’s not fair!” Seungkwan shouts, jumping to his feet as well. “They’re a new group!”

“They debuted two years ago! Plenty of groups have charted even within the first few months of debuting.”

You’re used to getting into petty fights with your best friend over everything and anything. Which shirt looks better on him, what kind of coffee is best, if his face looks puffy or not. So you know all of the right arguments to make and buttons to push.

“Just admit that the album wasn’t their best work,” Seungkwan gets in your face.

“I will when you finally admit that their whole discography is some of the best work in the K-Pop industry.” You step closer to him, pressing your chest up against his.

“Yeah right. They’re good, but not the best. You’re just delusional.”  

“And you can’t admit you’re wrong.”

“Like you’re right?”

“I always am, aren’t I?” You smirk and Seungkwan rolls his eyes so hard you’re afraid they’re going to pop out of their sockets. He gets you’re just teasing him at this point.

“I’m the reason you listen to K-Pop in the first place.”

“Yet, I still have better opinions than you.”

“You’re literally insane. You’re obsessed with being right and you wouldn't know good music opinions if they smacked you in the face.”

If you were talking to anyone other than Seungkwan, you might have gotten offended, but this is Seungkwan, you know he’s just hot headed and doesn’t mean it. Instead you just smirk at him.

“Ooh you wanna kiss me so bad,” you say in a teasing tone.

Seungkwan scoffs and finally pulls back a bit. It’s not uncommon for either of you to pull a line like that out. “Oh, shut up.”

Normally neither of you would be bothered by it, but you want to push Seungkwan a bit more. “What? Too scared?”

“To what? Kiss you? Please, I'd be doing you a favor.”

“Yeah?” You lean in towards Seungkwan.

“Yeah.” Seungkwan leans in closer.

“Then do it, chicken.”

There’s always been a sort of…tension between you and your best friend. Always toeing the line of being something more than just best friends. Years of built up arguments and hot-headedness; Chan once described it as “sexual tension so thick it suffocated him”. Neither of you talk about it, but it’s always a bit apparent.

Seungkwan leans in closer, you do the same. You can feel his breath against your face as you two are only a few inches apart. Your throat is tight as you hear the thud of your heart rapidly pounding against your chest.

“Still have time to back out,” you say in a low voice, doing your best to ignore your own reaction to Seungkwan being so close. 

“No way,” Seungkwan responds, pressing your noses up against each other. Your lips are basically brushing, just mere millimeters apart.

“C’mon Seungkwan, don’t be a pussy.”

That’s all it takes for Seungkwan to close the gap, pulling your body against his as he captures your lips. The kiss is harsh and Seungkwan’s pressing a bit too hard, but you don’t pull away, grabbing onto him too. 

He tastes like a mix of the americano he was sipping on earlier and the slice of cake you two shared for lunch. The bittersweet taste lingers on his lips and you do your best to lap it all up, taking in as much of Seungkwan as you can.

His skin feels soft under your fingertips and as you grip his face, squeezing his cheeks so you can pull him closer to you. Realistically you know you don’t have to be holding him so tightly, frantic to burn this moment in your memory like it will completely disappear if you two pull apart. You’re not thinking realistically though. All you’re thinking about is Seungkwan and Seungkwan kissing you and Seungkwan’s hands on your waist and Seungkwan’s fresh scent in your nostrils and Seungkwan’s tongue swiping over your lips and Seungkwan, Seungkwan, Seungkwan. You want more of him, despite already having all of him.

You don’t feel too bad about wanting Seungkwan so desperately though, because he seems to be in the same boat. His fingers dig into your shirt, gripping the fabric so tightly it pulls taught against your stomach. His body is practically shaking in your grip as he presses against you harder and harder, his tongue licking into your mouth to taste you better. You can hear the soft mewling noises he makes when you suck on his tongue.

This has been a long time coming and you two put all your years of pent up feelings into the kiss. You barely take a break for air, panting into each other’s mouths for a few seconds before diving right back in. Your hands have moved into Seungkwan’s hair, fisting the soft strands between your fingers. Seungkwan’s hands have been rubbing up and down your torso for a few minutes now and it sends a warm thrill through your body.

You feel Seungkwan tug at your waist as he walks backwards, falling onto the couch when it hits the back of his knees. He pulls you down with him, tumbling onto his lap. He helps you get situated in his lap, positioning you so you’re straddling his thighs, your core placed right over his crotch. You can feel the bulge of Seungkwan’s cock pressing up against his shorts and you’re glad that you’re not the only one whose gotten worked up from the kissing, your panties drenched from your arousal.

“Kwannie,” you whine out, soft and needy. You roll your hips experimentally, slow and teasing, and you relish in the gasp that Seungkwan lets out, his fingers digging into your thighs. 

He throws his head back a bit, panting his breaths out. “Fuck, do that again.”

You do, dragging your clothed cunt over his lap, grinding against his confined cock. You can feel the pressure against your clit, sending thrums of pleasure through your body. You repeat the motion, over and over again against Seungkwan’s lap, pleasuring both you and him.

Seungkwan has now buried his face in your chest, kissing at your exposed cleavage. Your mind has quickly fogged with lust as you ball the back of Seungkwan’s shirt up in your fists. Your body feels so fucking good right now, but you need more. Reluctantly you pull back from Seungkwan, climbing out of his lap.

Your best friend whines at you, sending you a confused look. You don’t answer, just start to shed your pants, pushing them off your hips and down your legs. Seungkwan’s eyes light up when he sees you doing this and he does the same, quickly kicking his shorts off onto the floor. You lick your lips at the sight of strong, thick, pale thighs on display for you and you think about how you wouldn’t mind your head being crushed by them. You can’t think about that just yet though.

You tug your shirt over your head as well, leaving you in just your bra and panties. When you climb back onto Seungkwan’s lap you lift his shirt over his head as well, discarding it with the rest of your clothes.

With two layers gone now, you can feel the definition of Seungkwan’s cock much better now against your folds. Your panties are drenched by now and leave little to no barrier of your cunt against Seungkwan’s boxers. You’re sure you’re getting his own underwear wet as well, your slick seeping through his boxers and rubbing up against his length.

With both of your shirts off now, you can feel the heat coming off of Seungkwan’s body. Your bare skin feels nice pressed up against his, giving you another layer of closeness to your best friend. Seungkwan’s fingers trace circles against your hip as you speed up your hips.

“Y/N,” Seungkwan mumbles against your ear and you pull back to look at his face. His eyes are droopy with desire and his lips are plump from all of the kissing. You’ve mussed up his hair from burying your fingers in it and you can’t help but grin at just how fine he looks right now.

“Kwannie?”

His fingers move up your back and flick at the clasp of your bra. “Can I please…?”

You nod and it takes barely a second before your bra is on the floor as well, your tits bare to the room. He paws at them, squeezing them and tugging at your nipples and you arch your back into his touch. You lean back and brace your hands on his knees, grinding down harder when you feel his lips wrap around one of the buds, sucking it into his mouth. 

Your body is desperate to cum now, your limbs trembling as you struggle to remember to breathe. Seungkwan’s body is pushed forwards with his arms wrapped tight around your waist as he continues to attack your chest with his mouth. 

You can feel that you’re so close, your body starting to tensen up. You can feel Seungkwan’s hips thrusting up to meet your grinds, his hard cock knocking against your clit over and over again. Under you, Seungkwan is a mess, panting and whimpering as his fingers bruise your sides with how hard he’s gripping you. His mouth has gotten sloppy, his mind too fuzzy to put his complete focus into sucking your tits.

Your whole body feels on fire and the only way to extinguish it is to get your release. You’re not sure your legs can keep doing this for much longer though. Your cunt is clenching around nothing, desperate to cum. Just when you feel like you’re about to die from how pent up you are, your orgasm hits you like a train. Your legs shake as you cling onto Seungkwan, your head falling against his shoulder.

Seungkwan thrusts his hips up against you, before he’s shaking too, painting the inside of his boxers white with his release. You pull your head away from Seungkwan’s shoulder, bringing your lips to his once more. Your two kiss messily, all wet and warm and sloppy as you two come down from your highs. Your body is satiated for now and when you pull away from Seungkwan he looks content as well, a pretty post orgasm glow illuminating his face.

“I think we needed that,” you finally break the silence. Seungkwan laughs. With his arms still around your waist, he rolls over so he’s laying on the couch, your body tucked into his side. You snuggle even closer, burying your head into his neck.

“Should we talk about it?” Seungkwan asks after a couple moments of silence.

You snort. “Yeah probably. Let’s take a nap first.”

“Yeah okay,” Seungkwan agrees, wrapping his arms around you tighter, content to work things out later.

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#boo seungkwan #seungkwan #seungkwan smut #seungkwan fanfic #seungkwan x reader #seventeen #seventeen smut #seventeen fanfic #kpop #kpop smut #rru.fics #rru.writes #★ mdni

[aeliuss]

warnings!: NSFW MDNI!!! | mentions of drinking and being high | four year age gap between reader and Chan but reader is an adult by the time any romance blossoms |

Brother'sbestfriend!Chan who has known you since you were fifteen and geeky and he was a sophomore in college.

Brother'sbestfriend!Chan who laughed when your brother teased you but never joined in. Honestly, he kind of felt bad for you sometimes.

Brother'sbestfriend!Chan who brought ice cream for you with him whenever he visited your house.

Brother'sbestfriend!Chan who was surprised at how good your music taste was when he picked you up from school that one time and let you control the aux.

Brother'sbestfriend!Chan who watched you date your first boyfriend and can't help but feel protective. He definitely didn't pull him aside and give him a detailed explanation of what would happen to his limbs if he ever broke your heart.

Brother'sbestfriend!Chan who didn't know what to do when he walks into your living room to find you crying over your breakup. He just came to pick something up for your brother but ends up sitting on the couch beside you, handing you tissues and awkwardly patting your back as you rage to him.

Brother'sbestfriend!Chan who watched you graduate highschool and get accepted into your dream college overseas. Who drove you to the airport because your brother was crying so much he had to take the passenger seat because he couldn't see the road.

Brother'sbestfriend!Chan who slowly lost contact with you over the years as he gets caught up in his own life. Who graduated college and gets a job producing music like he always dreamed of doing. Who dates on and off but never had a long term relationship and, frankly, never really wanted one.

Brother'sbestfriend!Chan who didn't even know you were back until he ends up running into you at a cafe.

Brother'sbestfriend!Chan who sees you before you see him and almost drops his coffee because you look the same but also somehow completely different. A good different.

A very good different.

Brother'sbestfriend!Chan who leaves without saying anything to you because he's too flustered and taken off guard. He acts surprised when your brother tells him of your return.

Brother'sbestfriend!Chan who notices the way you look at him right away. Notices that you fill out your clothes better than you did four years ago.

Brother'sbestfriend!Chan who's heart skips a beat every time you smile. Who's heart nearly stops when you laugh.

Brother'sbestfriend!Chan who finds himself stealing glances at you more often than he should, trying to reconcile the image of the girl he used to know with the woman standing before him now.

Brother'sbestfriend!Chan who tries to play it cool whenever you're around, but his heart races a little too fast and his palms get a little too sweaty.

Brother'sbestfriend!Chan who starts making excuses to hang out with your brother more often, just so he can catch glimpses of you.

Brother'sbestfriend!Chan who tries his absolute hardest to not let his eyes linger on your thighs when he picks you up one day, per your request. You're dressed up all pretty, in a low cut top and a pretty pink skirt that leaves very little to the imagination.

Brother'sbestfriend!Chan who struggles to keep his composure as he feels a wave of desire wash over him, his mind racing with thoughts he knows he shouldn't entertain.

Brother'sbestfriend!Chan who tries to distract himself by engaging in light banter during the car ride, but every now and then, his gaze involuntarily drifts to your enticing silhouette.

Brother'sbestfriend!Chan who can't help but feel a pang of guilt for harboring such feelings, knowing the unspoken boundaries that exist between him and you.

Brother'sbestfriend!Chan who drops you off with a polite smile and then immediately calls up one of his situantionships for a quick fuck but is dismayed to find that it doesn't feel the same anymore. That he has to imagine that it's your plush thighs wrapping around his hips for him to get off.

Brother'sbestfriend!Chan who nearly chokes on air when you bend over to pick something up, giving him a perfect view up your skirt. And you know. He knows you know what you're doing.

Brother'sbestfriend!Chan who picks you up when you call him, drunk and high off your mind at the club.

Brother'sbestfriend!Chan who rushes to the club without a second thought when he hears your slurred voice over the phone, concern overriding any other feelings he might have.

Brother'sbestfriend!Chan who pushes through the crowd, his heart pounding with worry as he searches for you amidst the flashing lights and thumping music.

Brother'sbestfriend!Chan who finally spots you in a corner, surrounded by strangers, looking disoriented and vulnerable. Who punches a boy in the jaw for trying to pull you back onto his lap.

Brother'sbestfriend!Chan who takes you back to his apartment because he knows that your brother would highly disapprove of your current state.

Brother'sbestfriend!Chan who respectfully averts his eyes as you change into his sweatshirt, even though you were barely dressed to begin with.

Brother'sbestfriend!Chan who croaks "please don't do this to me" when you crawl onto his lap, whispering profanities into his ear.

Brother'sbestfriend!Chan, who's mind is racing with conflicting thoughts as he feels your breath hot against his neck, sending shivers down his spine. He knows this is wrong, knows he should stop you, but every fiber of his being yearns for the taste of your lips, for the warmth of your touch.

Brother'sbestfriend!Chan, who's crumbling resolve is like a sandcastle against the tide of desire as he succumbs to the intoxicating allure of the moment. His hands, trembling with anticipation, find their way to your waist, pulling you closer against him, unable to resist the magnetic pull between you.

Brother'sbestfriend!Chan, his lips meeting yours in a feverish kiss, a whirlwind of passion and longing unleashed in that single moment. It's as if the years apart have only fueled the fire burning between you, igniting a flame that refuses to be extinguished.

Brother'sbestfriend!Chan who pulls away with a gasp when you fumble with the buttons on his shirt, pushing your hands away as gently as he could because, not like this. He can't have you like this.

Brother'sbestfriend!Chan who tucks you into his bed and then settles on the couch furthest away from you. Who feel so so so guilty for the raging boner he has just from kissing you.

Brother'sbestfriend!Chan, who spends the rest of the night wide awake, his mind swirling with confusion and guilt. He can't shake the feeling of your lips on his, the taste of you lingering on his tongue like a bittersweet memory.

Brother'sbestfriend!Chan, who avoids you for weeks afterward, unable to face you after what transpired between you. Every time he sees you, his heart races with guilt and longing, a tumultuous storm raging within him.

Brother'sbestfriend!Chan, who you have to corner weeks later in the kitchen and place his hands firmly on you waist and declare that you want him

Brother'sbestfriend!Chan who freezes in place, his eyes widening in shock at your bold declaration. His heart pounds in his chest, a mixture of disbelief and overwhelming desire coursing through him.

Brother'sbestfriend!Chan, who lets out a shaky breath as he struggles to find the right words, torn between his loyalty and his heart's deepest desires. He knows he shouldn't give in to this forbidden temptation, but the pull of your touch is too strong to resist.

Brother'sbestfriend!Chan, who searches your eyes for any hint of doubt or hesitation, but finds only sincerity and raw need reflected back at him. His resolve wavers as he battles the internal conflict between his sense of duty to your brother and his undeniable attraction to you.

Brother'sbestfriend!Chan, who finally surrenders to the overwhelming passion that consumes him, pulling you into his arms with a fierce intensity. His lips crash against yours in a desperate kiss, igniting a wildfire of longing and longing that burns away any doubts or reservations.

Brother'sbestfriend!Chan, who fucks you right there in the kitchen, his ears tinted red but his hands are feverish, all over your body, pulling you as close to him as you can get. Who is gentle with you even in his fervor, who you have to practically beg to be more rough with you.

Brother'sbestfriend!Chan, who embraces the forbidden love that blossoms between you, knowing that it may come with consequences but willing to risk it all for the chance to be with you.

#stray kids hard hours #skz drabbles #skz smut #straykids #straykids fanfic #stray kids smut #bang chan #bangchan smut #chan smut

[ginnsbaker]

the follow up

Summary: Sequel to 'prophylaxis'. Wanda's follow up appointment with you, her dentist. Includes ice cream, Vision playing matchmaker and Wanda's questionable taste in music

Word count: 3k | Warnings: None. Tooth-rotting fluff. Pun intended.

Ship: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader | Platonic Wanda Maximoff X Vision

Author's note: Let's pretend that the Sokovian accords resolved itself without Tony and Steve divorcing | P.S couldn't resist inserting a T.S. lyric (sorry not sorry)

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

-

Wanda Maximoff is strapped to a chair.

Again.

Fortunately, it's not because she'd been caught behind enemy lines or had to be restrained because of those stupid accords that nobody really cares about except Tony and Steve. 

No, Wanda Maximoff is at the dentist's office. 

Again.

Okay, so, she’s not strapped per se, but the patient bib she wears over her clothes certainly feels like one, especially when that chair starts to tilt back as soon as you nudge the adjustor with your foot. It's like being bound in place, just without the actual restraints.

Her lips are dry, and her heart is beating just a little too fast, but not from fear this time. It's a different sort of edginess that Wanda feels, especially when you lean in too close to her face to check her molars. Your face is just inches from hers, eyebrows strewn in concentration and eyes focused. Wanda tries to look away, but there's nowhere to look except the ceiling or into those scrutinizing eyes.

It also doesn’t help that you smell absolutely incredible. Last week, you smelled like raindrops on petals. Today, you smell like cinnamon and vanilla, and she finds both scents comforting and addicting. 

“So, Wanda,” you say, your voice calm and gentle, “How have you been taking care of your teeth since the last visit?”

“Uh, fine,” Wanda tries to articulate the words properly but all that comes out is a garbled “ahhh fuh”. You don't mock her in any way; instead, you display an expert understanding of your patients' speech patterns. 

“You've been brushing and flossing?”

Wanda nods.

“Good girl,” you say, and even though your smile is hidden behind the mask, she can still see it in your eyes. They crinkle at the corners, and it just sends something warm and happy in Wanda’s chest whenever she sees it. 

But there’s nervousness, too.

In fact, a lot of things about you make her nervous. After all, your kind used to be the bane of her existence.

You turn away to prepare the necessary tools, and Wanda's mind starts to wander. How many patients do you see in a day? Are you always this nice and charming to them? 

Are they also nervous around you? Or is it just her?

“Alright, Wanda,” you say, turning back to her, your eyes kind and understanding. “Let's get started. Just a small pinch, and you'll feel a little numb.”

She nods again, and the procedure begins. 

As you work, you talk about mundane things and the new plant you acquired over the weekend. You also talk a little about the Avengers compound and the unique experiences that come with being their on-call dentist, especially with a synthezoid who insists on getting their teeth checked. 

Wanda answers more freely now, her initial hesitation gone. She finds herself enjoying your company–enjoying this dental appointment, of all things–and even laughing at some of your anecdotes.

Finally, the fillings are in place, and you help her rinse her mouth.

“See?” you say, patting her shoulder. “That wasn't so bad.”

Wanda beams at you, feeling quite proud of herself. “No, it wasn't. Thank you.”

“There are still three more that might need fillings, but we can schedule that for some other time. Don’t want you to get overwhelmed,” you add with a cheeky wink that has Wanda unwittingly clutching the armchair tightly.

You carefully set your tools down on the tray, giving Wanda some room to breathe. Right then, the numbing effect of the anesthesia begins to fade and Wanda winces, her hand instinctively coming up to her jaw, fingers massaging the area where the discomfort is blooming. 

Seeing her reaction, you recall the ice cream you'd thoughtfully stashed away after she’d confirmed her appointment.

“Feeling a bit tender there?” you ask, moving towards the small refrigerator you keep in the room. “I have just the thing.”

Wanda looks at you curiously as you retrieve a container of Ben & Jerry's Cherry Garcia ice cream. Her eyes widen, and she exclaims, “How did you know this is my favorite?”

You blush as if you’ve been caught doing something you shouldn’t. You hadn't expected Wanda to notice the specific flavor of the ice cream, let alone comment on how suspiciously perfect it was that you picked her favorite. 

“Well, I may have called the Avengers compound and asked around,” you say, sheepishly rubbing the back of your neck. “It was Vision–was it?–who knew. Said you always choose this one.”

You extend the tub of Cherry Garcia to Wanda, and as she takes it, your fingers briefly brush against hers. Both of you pause at the unexpected touch, a small gasp escaping her lips. You quickly shift your attention to the utensil drawer, pulling out a spoon and handing it to her. But instead of digging in immediately, she hesitates, glancing up at you. 

The white mask you're wearing has kept your full face hidden throughout the appointment, and now, she'd be utterly disappointed if she never gets a peek at your face, which is partly the reason she agreed to come here in the first place.

Wanda Maximoff can’t have that. After sitting through an hour in that torture chair, she needs to be rewarded. And not just with ice cream. 

“Would you... would you like to share it with me?” she asks hesitantly, trying to be subtle–

 “I'd really like to see your face, just once.”

–and then failing at subtlety half a second later.

You blink, surprised at her straightforwardness, and feel a deeper blush spread across your cheeks. Her request is unconventional, yes, but it's also earnest and endearing. Slowly, you reach up and remove the mask, unveiling the smile that Wanda's been so desperate to see.

“Well, I do have quite the sweet tooth, so I couldn't possibly refuse.” you say.

You sit side-by-side on the coach, your knees touching ever so often. You occasionally find yourself pointing to Wanda's lips, indicating where she needs to wipe away the stray cream. Wanda blushes at your attentiveness, but she can't help but appreciate the caring gesture.

Wanda truly wants to prolong this moment, this unexpected opportunity to have you all to herself. But as delightful as the company is, ice cream has its own rules, and it's not much enjoyable when it's melted. So, despite her desire to make the moment stretch on, the ice cream is finished in under ten minutes. 

Staring at the empty tub, the idea that she might not be the only one to experience this side of you fills her with both reassurance and a hint of envy. Wanda can't help but wonder if there's something special about the connection you share during these brief appointments, or if your comforting demeanor is simply part of being a skilled and compassionate dentist.

Either way, she wants to do something with you that would set her apart from all your other patients.

“Um, so,” she begins, fumbling with her words, her eyes darting around the room before landing on yours. “I was thinking, you know, if you're not too busy or anything, maybe we could... do this again? Not the dental part!” she quickly adds, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. “I mean, maybe dinner, or a movie, or whatever you like? If you want to, of course.”

You look at her with wide eyes, mouth slightly agape, as if you're trying to catch the words that just slipped out of her mouth. Is it a date? Is it just a friendly outing? Regardless, it's not typically professional to see a patient outside of the clinic, especially one as renowned as Wanda Maximoff. 

“Wanda,” you start. “You’re interesting, funny, and truly amazing.”

You watch as Wanda’s face becomes hopeful, which makes you want to strangle yourself for what you have to say next. 

“But I’m sorry, I can’t. I have to consider the professional boundaries that I need to maintain.”

Wanda's eyes widen momentarily, and then she quickly masks her disappointment with a dismissive wave of her hand. “Oh, of course, I understand,” she says, her voice light, but not quite reaching her eyes. “I shouldn't have asked. It was silly of me.”

But you can see the hurt in her eyes, the way her shoulders slump just a little, the way her smile doesn't scrunch her nose the way it normally does. She's trying to brush it off, to act like it doesn't matter, but you can tell that it does.

With that, your time together draws to a close. You ask Wanda if she wants to schedule another filling for her remaining molars, but she merely shakes her head, telling you she'll have to think about it. Her eyes avoid yours, and her voice is distant, a clear indication of how your rejection has affected her.

You watch her walk away, a part of you wishing you could call her back, and another part knowing that you made the right choice. 

It's the first time you experience a profound sense of loathing towards your profession as a dentist.

You wouldn’t be surprised if they don’t invite you back next year for another routine check-up.

-

Which makes your predicament the following day all the more baffling.

One second, you're tending to a tall, blonde, seemingly ordinary man in your dental chair, going through the routine motions of preparing for a check-up. You turn your back for a moment to prepare your tools, lost in thought and still reeling from yesterday's encounter with Wanda.

When you turn to face your patient again, your heart skips a beat, your hands freezing in place. 

The man is no longer blonde and ordinary but bald and a striking shade of red.

In a snap, it’s another Avenger in your hands.

You clear your throat, forcing a smile as you approach the chair. “Mr. Vision,” you say, trying to keep your voice steady. “I wasn't expecting to see you here.”

Vision is ready to correct you with your use of ‘Mr.’ but then he tilts his head, deciding he likes the title next to his name.

“It's my pleasure to see you, Doctor,” he smiles at you, sitting perfectly still.

You blink at him, still trying to wrap your head around the fact that a synthezoid–one who technically doesn't even have biological teeth–is sitting in your dental chair. You can't help but wonder if this is some kind of joke or if Wanda sent him to kill you.

When you continue to stand unmoving in your position, Vision says, “I’m here for a check-up.”

Huh. 

Okay?

You reach for the mouth mirror and probe, tools typically used for human patients, and hesitate for just a moment. 

How exactly does one perform a check-up on a synthezoid?

Vision seems to read your uncertainty, his crystal-blue eyes meeting yours. “I assure you, I have all the components you would find in a human mouth,” he says. 

You nod, beginning to understand. Gathering your focus, you proceed to perform the unusual check-up he's requesting. As you explore his mouth, you find yourself fascinated by the impeccable craftsmanship that went into creating Vision. Every tooth, every gum, is a perfect imitation of its human counterpart. 

You find yourself feeling a little jealous of his orthodontic assets. 

As you continue the check-up, he starts to share some stories, his voice even and clear despite your probing.

“You know, Wanda once fed an alley full of stray cats during a mission in Bucharest,” he says, a soft chuckle in his voice. “We were on a surveillance assignment, and she noticed them, all huddled together, looking hungry. Before I knew it, she had conjured up bowls of food for them all. It was quite a sight.”

You pause, caught by the image of Wanda surrounded by furry, adorable kittens. “That sounds adorable.” you reply, moving on to examine his upper molars. 'Cute' was the word on the tip of your tongue, exactly what you meant to say. But you know as well as anyone that finding a patient cute is off-limits.

He continues, “Yes, Wanda has a way with things. Once, back at the Avengers HQ, she'd make her dinner portion smaller so the guys with big appetites could eat their fill. Even Natasha, who's quite the cook, found it a stretch sometimes to satisfy the team's hunger.”

And then as he drones on about Wanda, you slowly begin to piece together what's really happening here. Vision isn't just in your clinic for a check-up. 

He's talking up Wanda. 

To you.

As if Wanda even needed talking up.

All you could think about was the brunette with her soulful green eyes and a smile that makes you go weak in the knees. Your heart skips a beat at the very thought of her.

But it's not just because Wanda is your patient that you rejected her. There's the awe and reverence you feel towards her as an Avenger, a symbol of justice and freedom, a hero who seems to belong to the world more than to any one person. And then there's the raw, personal part of you, still healing from a toxic relationship that ended only six months ago.

And as Vision concludes his tales of Wanda by sharing how she's the only one patient enough to show him the ropes of what being human is, you see through his carefully crafted façade. 

He's here to bridge the gap, to make Wanda more accessible, more human in your eyes. He wants you to see her not just as a public figure but as a person with feelings, quirks, and simple kindnesses.

And more than that, he wants you to realize that you're an idiot for saying no to someone as wonderful as Wanda Maximoff.

“You’re not really here for a check-up, are you?” you smile at him knowingly.

Vision looks at you, his synthetic eyes almost mischievous and for a while you forget that he isn’t human. 

He pauses for a moment, as if considering his next words, and then he smiles back.

“No,” he finally says, his voice carrying a hint of both humor and sincerity. “I'm not.”

He then continues, his tone turning thoughtful. “Wanda has been... sulking. For hours, locked up in her room listening to ‘Lips of an Angel’ on repeat. She told me before that I am her 'best friend,'” he says, the term slightly foreign in his mouth. “I looked up what that means, and it included helping her be happy.”

Apart from the reveal of what kind of music Wanda listens to, you feel Vision’s words tugging at your heart strings. Well, at least until he says–

“Natasha explained to me that Wanda is being, as she put it, 'emo' because she got rejected by a possible... sexual mate.”

You'd choke on your water if you were drinking one.

That's not what you expected him to say, not in the least. The sentence hits you like a left-field curveball, utterly disrupting the flow of the conversation. It's so... so... un-Vision-like, and yet, here he is, stating it as matter-of-factly as he might describe the weather.

“Given that, I would like to ask you to reconsider going out with my ‘best friend’.”

You're still coming to grips with everything that's just happened. Vision, Wanda's “best friend” here in your clinic, attempting to play matchmaker. What he's asking isn't small, but the way he's asking, the care he's shown in understanding human relationships, his concern for Wanda's feelings–it all makes you pause.

You think about what you were doing on your computer last night, googling Wanda’s name and trying to find out all you could about the young Avenger.

Finally making a decision, you look up at Vision squarely in the eye. 

“Would you happen to know Wanda’s email address?” you ask, fiddling with the lapels of your white coat. “And also her phone number?”

-

“Oh, thank god,” Natasha sighs as she hears Wanda hit pause on the 46th replay of Lips of an Angel.

Yes, 46. Natasha had made Vision count, and that doesn't include the ones he missed when she urgently dispatched him to you to remediate the Wanda situation immediately.

She hears someone whistling a tune coming from the hallway and is surprised to see Vision, apparently adopting Steve's habit in his eagerness to act more human.

“Mission accomplished?” she asks, her eyes narrowing.

Vision stops whistling, a look of satisfaction in his synthetic eyes. “I believe I made some progress. Our friend has promised to think about reconsidering the decision.”

“Just think about it? You were gone quite a while for a 'maybe.'”

Vision pauses, his head tilting slightly. “I believe I was able to present Wanda in a way that may help our friend realize her feelings for her.”

“You think she has feelings for our Wanda?” Natasha's voice betrays her surprise, and she can't quite catch herself using the word ‘our’. She continues, slightly flustered, “I was thinking maybe she'd just indulge Wanda's crush for a while, then befriend her, so as not to completely shut her down.”

“I observed her vitals while telling her about Wanda, and all the signs point to yes, she has feelings for our Wanda,” Vision answers, thoughtfully echoing Natasha's use of ‘our’. 

She smirks, leaning against the wall. “Well, let's hope your efforts pay off. I can't take another 46 replays of that song.”

Vision stoically considers Natasha's last statement. “Actually, Agent Romanoff, I must disagree. I could listen to another replay. Technically, it's a well-composed song.”

Natasha's face twists into a look of mock disgust. “I swear, if you start advocating for boy bands next, I'm holding Wanda personally responsible.”

“I'll consider that when expanding my musical repertoire.”

She waves a dismissive hand, still grinning. “Just don't start singing in the shower. We've got enough noise in the mornings as it is.”

-

Around the time that Wanda has just hit pause on the Hinder hit that has been playing on loop, a notification sounds off her laptop. 

She quickly turns her attention to it and clicks on the email that has arrived from your clinic. Inside, there's a referral letter personally written by you, referring Wanda to another colleague of yours.

You no longer want to be her dentist, the email makes that clear. Somehow, this hurts more than your rejection of her yesterday.

Before she can fully process the referral, her phone buzzes with a call from an unknown number. She hesitates, before deciding to answer. “Hello?”

“Hi, Wanda. It’s Y/N. F-From the clinic?” you breathe out in a rush, the words tangled with your nerves. Wanda takes note of how your voice sounds over the phone–deeper and more intimate against her ear.

She takes a moment to reply, still a little thrown by the referral. “Oh, hi. I just read your email,” she says.

“Yes, about that…” You trail off, pausing as you try to find the right words. “I was thinking, instead of discussing that over the phone, maybe we could talk about it over dinner on Friday? If you're free–”

“I’d love to,” Wanda quickly accepts, her heart threatening to jump out of her chest.

You try to suppress a chuckle, grateful that Wanda can’t see your cheeks turning a rosy pink. 

“Great! I'll pick you up at seven?"

“Seven it is.” Her reply is soft, almost shy. You say your goodbyes, both of you grinning to yourselves as you both hang up. 

Back in her room, Wanda stares at her phone, a broad smile on her face, touching it as if it's your face.

She presses play on the song once more, not as a lament but as a triumph. 

Much to Natasha’s dismay.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff x you #wanda x you #wanda maximoff #unbetad #my writing #my fic #elizabeth olsen x reader #elizabeth olsen #wanda maximoff fanfiction #natasha romanoff #wanda maximoff x female reader #vision #steve rogers

[les4elliewilliams]

Ellie is away... // e.w

chapter 1 – 2002, Senior year High school

a/n: helooo:)) okay so this is my first series and first time actually writing something, i'm aware its not the best but its just for fun so idrc. im new to tumblr and i'm still trying to figure everything out so, reblogs and comments are highly appreciated. this is based off the game emily's away. also i know youtube wasn't really a thing back in 2002 but for my own sake, please, lets pretend it was. wc/cw: 1.6k. swearing, mention of drugs (just ellie saying she wants to get high) loser!ellie(??) don't know but anyways they're both simps but too scared to make a move on each other. no smut but still MDNI.

summary: a time before skype and facebook, windows xp just came out and Windows Messenger was the thing of the moment. you just got a new computer to chat with your friends

➥ part two

since windows xp came out everyone's been talking about this new instant message thing that lets you chat with your friends, everyone had it, your friends, your whole school had made an account on it, hell even your teachers used it, everyone except you and that was because you didn't even own a computer in the first place. you've begged and begged your parents until they got you one, you didn't care what kind of computer it was, even the cheapest and the shittiest worked for you as long as you could chat with your friends it was safe to say that they bullied you into getting one you made an account and signed in, typing in the search bar their weird usernames to add them to your 'friends list'. you made sure to write all their usernames down on a piece of paper before you rushed home, Ellie even had to explain to you how to do it. you picked a random icon for your profile and tried your best to pick a not so stupid and childish username who thought that picking a username for your account would be so hard? shit, you swore you probably spent more time picking a user than on your math problems and you weren't even that good in math.

you made sure to include your name in it so that your friends would recognize you and not freak out when they saw a friend request from a certain somebody

dinathedrummer ⇨ friend request sent.

jessescool ⇨ friend request sent.

brickmaster ⇨ friend request sent.

now you just had to wait until they accepted your request. meanwhile you just navigated on the internet, trying to learn a thing or two about your new computer, it was so odd but addictive.

you nearly jump when you hear a sound coming from your computer and something popping up in the right corner of your screen

brickmaster has accepted your friend request!

you eagerly click on it and it immediately leads you to the chat, your fingers aggressively hitting the keycaps almost too enthusiastic to chat with your friend Ellie (as if you don't see her daily)

brickmaster has signed in.

ynshere: Ellll!!! hiii

brickmaster: aboutt freaking time ynshere: right ynshere: but hey ynshere: better later than never, right?

brickmaster: yeah yeah brickmaster: nice icon by the way brickmaster: so, whats up??

ynshere: nothing really, just talking to you ynshere: what are you up to?

brickmaster: nothin, just listening to music :)

ynshere: ew what's that

brickmaster: rude brickmaster: it's called smiley face brickmaster: i really gotta teach you everything don't i?

ynshere: shut up ynshere: i know what it's called, i'm not stupid

brickmaster: you sure about that?

ynshere: positive :P

brickmaster: ooooh brickmaster: look at yn go

ynshere: shut it ynshere: so what are you listening to? ynshere: your depressing music again?

brickmaster: you're one to talk brickmaster: my grandma got the same music taste as you brickmaster: even Joel got better taste than you

ynshere: okay and

brickmaster: and you'd be nothing without me brickmaster: let me educate you brickmaster: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vabnZ9-ex7o

ynshere: not bad

brickmaster: told you brickmaster: it's one of my favorite

ynshere: not that good either

brickmaster: now you're just being delusional brickmaster: remind me why we're friends again

ynshere: because i'm great and you love me

brickmaster: don't know about that

ynshere: and because i let you copy my homework every single day

brickmaster: yep, that's the one

ynshere: i hate you Williams

brickmaster: sorry can't hear you over my depressing music

ynshere: i hope Joel takes your computer away again

brickmaster: oh hell no brickmaster: it took me 2 weeks to get it back brickmaster: you have no idea of what i had to do to get it back

ynshere: lmao now i really wanna know

brickmaster: had to spend time with him hiking and watching action movies with him brickmaster: i even had to help out the neighbor, take care of his garden and all that shit, even take care of his goddamn dog (nothing against the pup he was such a good boy) but still brickmaster: he's so against technology he really expects us to live like dinosaurs and those primitive dudes

ynshere: lol yeah my mum's the same way ynshere: are you going to Jesse's party tonight?

brickmaster: of course i'm going brickmaster: his parties are always fun brickmaster: and i really wanna get high tonight brickmaster: are you?

ynshere: well if you’re going i am too ynshere: it’s crazy we’re already having end of school parties

brickmaster: dude brickmaster: can't wait for highschool to be over

ynshere: ahh same here ynshere: i'm so over this school

brickmaster: yeah same brickmaster: you know Cat from our math class? brickmaster: she won’t stop messaging me brickmaster: we've been messaging for days

ynshere: what does she want?

brickmaster: nothin she just wants to talk brickmaster: she said she thinks i'm cool brickmaster: like i don't know that already

ynshere: you're so damn cocky ynshere: you ain't even cool

brickmaster: what? brickmaster: jealous?

ynshere: of what? ynshere: there's nothing to be jealous of

brickmaster: cause i'm the coolest and you're just a loser

ynshere: yeah yeah keep talking ynshere: so you like like her?

brickmaster: she's pretty and all but i don't know brickmaster: too clingy

ynshere: wait ynshere: is it THAT Cat ynshere: the girl with the tattoo?

brickmaster: yep brickmaster: the one Dina hates

ynshere: oh yeah ynshere: don't like her either

brickmaster: now you're just being mean

ynshere: bitch you're the first who called her clingy

brickmaster: i was describing her

ynshere: and i was just telling you how i feel about her

brickmaster: uh oh someone’s mad

ynshere: you're making me regret getting a computer in the first place

brickmaster: i'm kidding i'm kidding brickmaster: you're just so easy to mess with

ynshere: uh huh ynshere: fuckk just one more month to graduation brickmaster: man don't remind me brickmaster: we're getting old brickmaster: did you pick a school yet?

ynshere: didn’t get accepted into my reach school :( ynshere: so i'm just going to one of the others ynshere: i don't mind though, anything’s better than high school. where are you gonna go?

brickmaster: aw man i'm sorry, i remember you telling me how bad you wanted to get into that school brickmaster: going to art school :)

ynshere: yeah makes sense ynshere: you always liked drawing after all ynshere: and you're also very talented

brickmaster: thank you brickmaster: took me some time to convince Joel but eventually he gave in ynshere: i'm glad he did ynshere: would've been a waste of talent ynshere: i still have the drawing you made for me two years ago  :) brickmaster: lol really?? brickmaster: i wasn't even that good back then but i got better

ynshere: dude you joking right ynshere: it's literally so accurate and you even managed to make me look pretty

brickmaster: lol i'm serious brickmaster: i can do so much better now brickmaster: maybe i should draw you again sometime

ynshere: i mean i am an excellent muse so why not

brickmaster: totally brickmaster: can't believe you kept it

ynshere: of course i did, it's so pretty ynshere: no one has ever made me a drawing before lol

brickmaster: glad to be your first ;)

ynshere: god that thing is horrendous

brickmaster: you literally used it a few minutes ago

ynshere: maybe Joel was right ynshere: technology really is bad for you ynshere: are you starting to see things, Williams?

brickmaster: oh please brickmaster: this is why no one likes you

ynshere: seriously though ynshere: you promise to be there for me even if we won't see each other everyday? ynshere: you're my best friend i don't wanna lose you  :(

brickmaster: shut up you're literally one of my best friends brickmaster: nothing could ever keep me from talking to you brickmaster: who’s gonna annoy you when i leavee

ynshere: right ynshere: i’d be miserable without you ynshere: asshole

brickmaster: here we go with the pet names again brickmaster: stop flirting its working on me

ynshere: see what i mean ynshere: i could never go without all this ynshere: you're like one of the few people who made high school tolerable

brickmaster: same goes for you stupid brickmaster: you made it fun

ynshere: i know ynshere: who's miserable without me now?

brickmaster: shut up you dork brickmaster: Dina’s coming over in a few so we can head to the party together

ynshere: alright so i'll see you two there?

brickmaster: yep i'll see you there brickmaster: think Cat is gonna be there too? brickmaster: what if she wants to hang out with us

ynshere: don't know El ynshere: she’ll definitely be there ynshere: you don't want her around?

brickmaster: i mean, i don't know brickmaster: i don't wanna be a prick

ynshere: you are a prick ynshere: just tell her you're not interested

brickmaster: yeah i think i will brickmaster: or i could just avoid her, she’ll get the hint, right?

ynshere: or you could just tell her ynshere: why so scared?

brickmaster: i just don't wanna be mean and hurt her i guess brickmaster: but it's whatever. i'll tell her i don't like her that way brickmaster: it's better than leading her on

ynshere: mhm ynshere: look at you being mature

brickmaster: shut up brickmaster: shit, Dina’s here brickmaster: see you soon?

ynshere: see you soon ;)

brickmaster: oh look you just did it again

ynshere is away. brickmaster: of course you'd do that. brickmaster is away.

¡! daily click・palestine masterpost・do not buy any game from naughty dog, neil druckmann is a zionist・more daily clicks. ¡!

#ellie williams #ellie tlou #ellie x fem reader #ellie x reader #the last of us 2 #tlou2 #ellie the last of us #naughty dog #wlw #sapphic #lesbianism #angst #slow burn #ellie x you #ellie x y/n #tlou ellie #the last of us #tlou #tlou x reader #tlou x you #tlou x y/n #loser ellie #loser!ellie #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x you #ellie williams tlou #ellie williams x female reader #ellie is away...

[stirthewaters]

Too Sharp to Touch pt.4

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: Slight language, brief descriptions of blood

Summary: Late to fighting practice, Wednesday tries to find you

Pairing: Wednesday x Reader

You were late.

What kind of ignorant fool could somehow be late to a meeting that they themselves had worked so hard to arrange? Of course, you, of all people, would be that fool.

Wednesday somehow found herself unsurprised. 

A glance at the clock mounted high above the door in the fencing hall would show that you were late. Half an hour late. Wednesday’s lips pulled into an irritated frown as she paced the wooden floors, her footsteps echoing loudly throughout the room as she did so. Wednesday, of course, was one who enjoyed silence, welcomed it even, always particular to the peaceful atmosphere of a wonderfully and eerily quiet room. 

The ticking of the clock accompanied the echoes of her footsteps as she continued to pace, occasionally glancing at the door or the windows, waiting for your arrival. Not hoping. Waiting. 

 The fact that you were supposed to be here and you weren’t was leaving a bad taste in her mouth. She hated the way that you could make her somehow unsatisfied with such a gloomy situation; what had you poisoned her with?

You had to have done something to her, surely. Consulted with Enid and Thing and injected her with a mind-altering fluid in her sleep. Slipped something into her coffee mug when she wasn’t looking. Cursed her with an ancient spell book discovered in the darkest reaches of the Nightshade library.

Wednesday was positive that you had done something to her, and she was not happy about it.

She continued to pace, frustration and, though she wouldn’t admit it, confusion. Where were you? Wasn’t this a priority to you? You had seemed so desperate to fight… you had offered her those flowers…

No. She was not going to think about the flowers right now.

The tip of her blade dropped slowly as she sighed, frustrated, and pulled the fencing helmet off of her head, tucking it under an arm as she fixed her messy bangs stuck to her forehead, a tinge of annoyance trickling through her as she arranged them once more.

If you had actually arrived on time like you’d said you would, she would’ve been able to follow through on her plans of terrifying you the second you stepped foot in the hall, scheming to jump you by the doorway with the tip of her blade pressed to your neck, to watch the thin line of blood she would be lucky enough to draw.

It would’ve been lovely to see some trace of fear in your eyes for once. Even a little. She would live for it. Especially if she could be the cause of it; she craved that moment.

But no, you just had to go and ruin her fun.

Neatly arranging her fencing gear back into her locker, that of which she closed and locked, Wednesday turned and promptly exited the dark and now empty fencing hall heading up the stairs and toward your dorm, boots clomping in the halls as the occasional group of students swerved to avoid her as she ducked into Dionysus hall, the one that you occupied.

The normally busy hallway was quieter than usual, most students already headed out for the weekend or in town for the evening, which was, admittedly, appreciated, but Wednesday was more focused on your whereabouts than the volume of the hall.

The raven didn’t even hesitate at your dorm door, opening it and storming inside as she looked around. On quick inspection she promptly discovered that you were nowhere to be found, surprisingly. She had expected you to be here, listening to music, drawing, or whatever you did in your free time, which she most definitely did not have memorized. Your bed, as usual, was messy. Empty. Your deskspace, equally messy and scattered with art supplies and assignments. Empty. The small space under the bed she’d discovered that you yet had to tell her about? Empty. 

Where were you?

Sighing in annoyance, Wednesday whirled around and exited your dorm, closing the door carefully behind her as she set off for the quad, determined to find you. You were not getting away that easily.

The student population increased dramatically as the goth entered the quad, eyes scrunching slightly at the sudden lack of darkness.

The quad was lit well with string lights illuminating the space as a handful of students lingered around, chatting and laughing and mingling amongst one another - a nauseatingly cheerful scene. Wednesday scanned the small crowd carefully, eyeing each person with a precise eye. You were quite the social student, so she expected you to be here, laughing and goofing off as you typically did when you could be avoiding work.

But, as she observed the students, not seeing you with any of your friends, she realized that no, you were not here. Frowning, Wednesday approached Xavier, who was, as usual, buried in a sketchbook at one of the tables, scribbling away. 

Stopping in front of him, she waited impatiently for the psychic to notice her. After a couple minutes, she realized he was too absorbed in his work and huffed, delivering a rough kick to his shin to make him look at her, arms crossing over her chest as she glared at him.

“Hello to you too, Wednesday,” Xavier groaned, rubbing his now-sore shin as he looked up at the raven, rolling his eyes. “What do you w-“

Wednesday didn’t even let him finish his sentence, cutting him off - “Y/N. Where is she?”

The psychic sighed and returned to sketching as he muttered, “she’s in the shed, last I saw her. She was working on some sort of art project I left her with. Haven’t seen her in a while.”

“She didn’t mention any plans that she had tonight?” Wednesday’s eyebrows furled. 

“Oh, right, Y/N couldn’t stop talking about how you two were going to fight tonight. Sounded like a death wish to me,” the psychic chuckled, returning to sketching. 

Sighing with irritation, Wednesday crossed her arms over her chest, sighing and turning away without thanking him, already on her way into the woods for the second time that week; you were really trying her patience, weren’t you? 

The incessant sounds of the academy faded into the background as the sound of faint birdsong and the whistling of wind through the trees welcomed her, and Wednesday felt herself relax as she embarked.

The faint light of Xavier’s shed in the woods led her way as she stepped through the wooded area, easily reaching the doors at the pace she was going, completely unbothered by the sounds of the woods at night as she knocked on the door once. Twice. Three times. No response. 

Frowning, Wednesday abruptly opened the door, inviting herself in as she looked around the shed; the lightbulb was illuminating the place as well as it usually did, coloring the shed a faint yellow as the paintings on the wall were suspended in shadow; the vibe overall was a more moody one that she found herself partial to.

She wouldn’t have minded it if she wasn’t so annoyed with you right now. She took a moment to look around; the shed wasn’t that big. You had to be in here somewhere. Passing by Xavier’s most recent canvas, she glanced at your usual spot; a paint splattered stool facing a large canvas, which, this time, was somewhat painted.

In the center of the canvas was a rough painting of a stag, head proudly raised, it's fine eyes peering out of the canvas as if observing for danger, scanning its surroundings. Wednesday took a moment to raise her hand to touch the dark paint strokes, running her fingers down the image as she took in the messy style you had adopted in the piece. 

And atop it all, one broad, dark red stroke slashing across the face of the stag, dripping down to the bottom of the canvas, in what she thought to be blood

What you had done… she couldn’t help but find the darkness you had perfectly captured in the creature’s eyes…impressive. You did have some talent.

And, upon bringing herself closer, she could tell from the consistency of the dried blood that you had, in fact, used real blood; it looked like the blood she had used on you the week prior for her bloodstain analysis in the woods.

Dragging her eyes away from the painting, Wednesday noticed movement in the corner of her vision, slowly turning to see what it was as her eyes fell under one of the tables in the back

And there you were.

In the darkest corner of the room, partially hidden by large canvases and other tables full of art supplies, you were asleep on a couple of blankets piled on the floor, practically buried out of sight. Soft breaths escapes your mouth as you let out a small incoherent mumble.

Wednesday’s step faltered slightly.

Never once had she seen you asleep. Not that she wanted to, no. But you were always the type to be snarky, retorting her insults and cracking jokes of your own instead of genuinely vulnerable. 

And now, here you were, curled up in a pile of blankets under a table in a shed, completely forgotten about what you had been so excited to do.

Wednesday watched you for a moment.

And then another.

Studying every inch of you. The way your chest barely rose and fell with every breath you took. The way your eyes fluttered as if you were dreaming. The way your eyebrows furrowed slightly as you dug yourself deeper into your nest of blankets, as if in a dream…

Wednesday considered it to be… almost… adorable.

What had you done to her? Here she was, staring at you like a nauseatingly obsessed teenager, thinking…affectionate thoughts toward you? Wednesday didn’t know what the demons of hell had found in her that was unworthy, but she was going to figure it out before she turned into some disgusting version of her mother.

To snap herself out of it the raven edged her way through the tables, stopping at you and crouching down on her knees to be at your level as her dark eyes flickered over you before she reached out and gave your ear a light flick. Nothing too hard, and not because she knew your ears were sensitive, merely because she didn’t want you to wake up in pain, although you were missing out - waking up in pain truly was a wonderful feeling.

You were awake almost instantly; Wednesday wasn’t surprised as you sat up straight and banged your head on the bottom of the table, groaning and hand lifting to rub the sore spot.

“What the hell…Wednesday?”

Wednesday huffed and straightened, folding her arms as she glared down at you, not giving you your answer as she waited for you to figure it out yourself.

You took a moment before realizing the situation, and Wednesday had to suppress a smirk at the look of surprise and frustration on your face as you shuffled out of the small space, straightening and stretching with what she thought to be a very childish pout.

“Goddamnit, Wednesday, I’m sorry for missing it, I was painting with Xavier and I fell asleep” - you glanced out the window at the dark sky - “look, I’ll make it up to y-“

You were cut off as Wednesday sighed and grabbed your wrist, yanking you backward and watching you stumble. As you fought for balance she firmly wedged her heel behind yours, causing you to trip and take a tumble to the floor, the shed rattling with the impact of you hitting the ground.

“What the hell?” You panted a little bit, pushing yourself up by the palms of your hands as you glared up at her. “What did I do?”

Wednesday rolled her eyes as she folded her arms over her chest and glared right back at you as she deadpanned.

“You said you wanted to learn to fight. Get up.”

The raven watched as you stumbled to your feet and without hesitation she hooked her leg around yours and yanked, watching in satisfaction as you crashed to the ground again, a couple pencils hitting the floor along with you.

“I wasn’t ready,” you complain as you struggle back upright again, eyebrows furrowed in frustration as you let out a small whine.

“The point isn’t being ready, Y/N,” Wednesday rolled her eyes as she studied you. “As a werewolf you have heightened senses. Put it to your advantage.”

Without warning, Wednesday stepped forward, taking the offensive as she kicked out toward your stomach. She felt a tinge of satisfaction when your hands caught her boot, pushing her away, but she wasn’t done yet.

She ducked your swing, stepping behind you and reaching up to your neck, touching it lightly and smirking when she saw you freeze. Her fingers lightly brushed the small patch of fur you had on the back of your neck, just under your head. 

“If your opponent knows about your weak spot they will take advantage of it.” She released you, watching you relax. “Do not let anyone touch it.”

As you turned to face her she scoffed slightly and gestured for you to strike first, deciding to take assessment of your offensive skills, which surely would be abysmal at best, if you were lucky; maybe you were right to come to her.

It was almost comical, the look of concentration on your face, and Wednesday was caught slightly off guard when you struck out with your foot. The raven dodged, getting out of the way in time, but your shoe did manage to graze her side as she did so. A flicker of focus in her eyes, Wednesday stepped under your arm, pushing herself against your back, forcing you to stumble forward.

Now that you were off balance she decided to test what she had just told you, reaching for your neck. She felt another glimmer of satisfaction as you dodged away immediately, ramming yourself against her stomach so that your weight and momentum was to your advantage, causing her to stumble backward a little bit. 

You were panting, definitely focused now as your eyes flickered up to meet hers, sparkling with pride at managing to unbalance her so quickly. Wednesday wasn’t too surprised, though. Sure, you were definitely a poor fighter, but you still had that werewolf fighting instinct, no matter how much you complained.

When you swiped again the raven merely stepped aside, smirking as your fist swung through the air. Before you could hit again she gave you one good shove, kicking the crook under your knee. You tumbled backward, hitting one of the canvas and tearing through it with a crash, art supplies flying through the air and adding to the new mess of the shed, a cloud of dust now rising into the air as you groaned.

As you sat up the mess of paintbrushes, acrylics, and torn canvas fell around you, and your jaw fell in shock before looking back up at Wednesday.

“Xavier’s gonna kill me.”

Wednesday smirked at your words, turning on her heel and shouldering her bag, already on her way out. She didn’t stop as she heard you exclaim from behind her, “you’re not gonna help me clean this up?” 

Both of you knew she wouldn’t.

“Consider this your payback for being late. Next time I won’t be so generous,” Wednesday tossed you a glare before opening the door of the shed and disappearing outside. She could hear another crash from inside the shed, as you tried to follow her, but she knew that you’d have to stay and clean the mess, otherwise risking losing your shed privileges completely.

It was completely fair, and Wednesday was willing to sit through your complaints about the paint that you had most definitely gotten on your clothes, throughout the week.

She felt a prickle in the collar of her sweater and paused, brow furrowing in annoyance as she reached around to try and find the source of what had been bothering her, pulling out a few tufts of your fur. The raven rolled her eyes with a scoff, shoving it into her pocket and heading back toward the academy.

—————

pt.5 here!

#wednesday addams #wednesday series #wednesday x reader #wednesday #wednesday 2022 #wednsday addams #jenna ortega #tstt #werewolf #wednesday x werewolf reader #wednesday x werewolf

[k2ntoss]

SI SE DA - NEIGHBOR!DICK GRAYSON

tw ⭒ minors dni, SMUT, dirty talk, dick grayson x f!reader, latina!reader, voyeour, fingering (f. receiving), spitting, spanking, oral (m. receiving), p in v, unprotected sex, breeding kink, choking, size kink, etc.

a/n ⭒ dunno if i do really need to go out to dance but i've been listening to a lot of reggaeton lately so it's not my fault i used like three songs exactly to write this but mostly this playlist if you're interested to get into it. and no, there's totally nothing personally related to my experience, nuh-uh.

side note to show y/n teaching dick how to dance like this

words count ⭒ dunno anymore, i struggled too much with this one at some point i didn't do a word count

neighbor!dick grayson likes the wide windows both of your houses have because he gets to see his cute latina neighbor moving her hips to the loud music you blast everytime you do your chores, the way you dance and let your hands glide over your body in such a sexy way it's making it so hard for him to quit from looking to your place.

it's not even 10am when dick listens to the bass of your music blasting from the small speaker you keep on your kitchen, once again you're making breakfast on a lazy friday morning and it's been like that almost every weekend since the last two months since you moved to the house next to his. a hot girl with a really nice accent, pretty friendly and good with the kids from the zone.

there's been a few times when he has talked to you, dick tries to be a helpful neighbor by helping you when you come back from the super or to receive the important mail when you're not home, he'll take a quick peek but as soon as you are back he is at your door with a pretty smile.

little did you knew was that whenever you decided to put on a little show and he was doing any kind of research on his living room you would end up making him hard, dick's mind flooded with the image of you swinging your hips while riding him, his hands holding your waist to pull you down on his cock while he pulls your hair and suddenly he's ignoring work because he has to use his hands to stroke himself, imagining it's your mouth, the one he has seen moving to sing along to each song you play and he wants to fuck your throat so bad, here the issue is he thinks you can't be less interested in him but hey, guys are pretty oblivious almost always.

you've caught a glimpse of how he looks at you, the nice kitchen of your house faces his big living room so while you walk around wiggling your hips you've felt his stare on you, hungry gaze you can sometimes see when he's being the perfect neighbor as he brings back your cat when he sneaks into his house but what has you more eager to grow closer to him is the few times you've seen him pleasure himself when you go around your house only wearing a long shirt because you have to go on your tiptoes to reach things from the cabinets on your kitchen and he gets to see your bare thighs, when he's lucky enough he also gets a glimpse of your pretty ass.

first idea on your mind to get a taste of him is to throw a nice party, maybe he'll come by and you will have a good chance so as soon as you're free you're walking to his house and knocking on his door, a wide smile when dick opens and looks at you "hey, i was thinking about throwing a little party tomorrow at night so i was wondering if you wanted to come by" you say, eyes fixed on him and he swears that he wasn't thinking about it but he can't help to think about those lovely slutty doe eyes and how would they look up at him if he had you on your knees.

you can see his blue eyes turn a little darker before he shakes himself out of his thoughs and nods "yeah, sure" he says with a smirk "i'll be there and i guess i don't need you to tell me when to go, right?" you know what he means, he's right next to your house so he will notice when the party starts.

the plan was going on smooth, now you just had to get everything ready and that incluided getting your own room ready just to lock it in case you had the chance to get dicked down there.

the little outfit you picked up that evening was surely somethinf that would have more than a guy and a girl looking at you, little black top and a nice pair of jeans that hugged your curves made a good work with the stares it stole from the people that were slowly flooding your house.

two of your closest friends already drunk enough to make you have to be around them made finding dick a bit harder, gut feeling telling you he was already there. walking behind one of your girl friends you get to the kitchen when you spot him, hot as always but the way he held the glass he was sipping from made him look even better.

"thought you'd missed your own party" he said as soon as you stood closer to him, his body leaning against the kitchen counter "but it's nice to see that you didn't" the smirk on his lips made it hard not to jump on him right there but you managed a soft chuckle.

"couldn't miss the opportunity" you say while grabbing a glass to get yourself a drink before taking a long sip of it "i must say this doesn't seem to be the kind of places you usually visit" there's a hint of playfulness on your words and dick notices it.

"i can always make an exception for a pretty girl" he trails off, his voice sounds low and raspy from the burn of the alcohol and he has to lean in for you to listen to him from over the loud music "it's not always a bad idea, less if i have the chance to dance with the girl"

and something that's been buzzing into his head is the fact that right here, in front of him one of his dreams is turning real because of the way your body seems to move on it's own while you speak, hips barely shaking to the beat and your lips mouthing the lyrics in the hottest way he's ever seen.

"who could the lucky girl be?" you tease and it makes dick laugh, a low rumble that makes your legs shake a little.

he takes a step closer and the song ends just to let the next one start and you know that this is your chance too.

"you want to dance?" he asks close to your ear, his hand hovers over your waist as if asking for permission to touch you and when you nod he does. hand on your waist while he walks you out of the kitchen, his eyes unable to move away from the way your hips swing and he tries so hard not to press himself against your ass.

"i adore this song, you know?" you turn around and grab his hand, pulling him closer once there's a small place between everyone. your arms snake around his neck, your body starts moving to the rhythm of 'no me conoce' and he swears he has to think on the worst thing ever.

"didn't knew but you seem to like it a lot" he chuckles, his arm wrapped around your waist and at first it's a little awkward because he finds it hard to find a right way to match your movements but when you smile and lean to sing into his ear he finds it easier. letting himself go and taking the last sip of his drink his hands hold your hips as he pulls you closer.

this is part of what he has dreamt of and he swears he's touching heaven because the first part of the night goes like that, you drink, laugh and dance until one of your friends stumbles on your way "come on, why don't you kiss already?" and there's another girl next to her that nods with a wide grin, making you look at dick before he is the one leaning in to capture your lips in a quick kiss that makes the both girls clap and laugh before they leave.

"why don't we go sit somewhere else?" the way he asks makes a shiver run down your spine, dick's eyes are fixed on your lips for a split second before he looks back into your eyes and it's enough to make you agree.

there's space in the couch and as soon as your body touches the cushion next to his dick pulls you in a new kiss, deeper this time as his tongue pushes between your lips dragging a soft hum from you, mouth parted to let him control the kiss while your hands hold onto his forearms. it's heaven on earth because he is trying to eat your soul, the way his lips move against yours in a bruising kiss is overwhelming when he sighs into your lips but it turns you on as soon as he speaks so close to you.

"i've been waiting a lot to do this, y'know?" he sound breathless and there's a cocky grin on his face before his tongue traces your bottom lip.

"yeah? didn't knew... but you can keep doing it" you tease him and suck on his tongue playfully, your hand now caressing his neck before you pull away "mhm, i want to dance again..." and how could he deny you from it.

how could he deny himself from how good it felt to have you so close?

dick nods and stands up, helping you to do the same just to pull you to the place where everyone was dancing.

'quiero bailar' is now playing and it makes you smirk at him when ivy queen starts speaking, there's a hint of pure mischief on your eyes that starts a spark on him when you start to sing and dance pressed against him, he holds your hips when you turn around and your ass grinds on him.

there's a good amount of words he understands from every song, in fact he understands it pretty well so he plays along with you, smile wide when your surprise is evident.

"so you're the one calling the shots tonight?" he whispers into your ear, his eyes fixed on the way his hands moved on your waist and hips "am i making a good job teasing you?" and the way his voice sounds so low is hot.

"i am calling the shots, papi" your voice is almost a purr, head dropping back leaving your neck exposed and the grip he had on his control goes to hell when your ass presses a little more against him.

just by turning his head a little dick is kissing the side of your neck, the grin on his lips could make anyone go weak but feeling it against your skin is on another level.

"i think it's not really like that" he presses his lips behind your ear before pulling away and the lack of attention makes your body tingle "why don't we go sit again?" and it's not hard to agree.

back on the couch he waits no time before going to kiss your lips hungrily, your hands on his neck and chest while his find your waist and then your back, fingers sliding slowly to the edge of your jeans.

"not here, wait" as soon as you are able to pull away from his lips you stand up, pulling him to reach one of the small hallways of your house. the lights are low and the space is empty but before you can make a second check dick tugs you in, pressing you against the wall.

"better now?" he asks, hands caressing your waist and giving you a soft squeeze when you nod and pull him into a kiss. both of you are kissing as two starved animals, lips crashing and tongues fighting between sighs and low grunts that somehow manage to raise over the music.

your fingers grip his shirt when dicks hands slide under your top, fingers tracing teasingly your stomach right before he goes a little higher until his fingertips are barely brushing over your tits, making you moan into his lips and he grins when you press your body against his.

dick's touch is now moving, fingers quickly undoing the button of your jean to access your hips easily, gripping and squeezing your flesh without leaving your lips. it makes you hiss when his hands find your ass, caressing it slowly before his fingers dig into the soft skin "you like it, right? feels so soft, baby" he growls.

"i like it a lot, yes..." your sweet voice makes him feel hungrier, his left moving to your front and going under your panties stealing a gasp from your lips when his index slides between your folds.

"feels good, pretty?" he asks playfully when your legs part a little for him to touch you "so hot already for me, right?"

"do you see someone else here, handsome?" you asks teasingly, the way dick strokes you slowly with just one finger is driving you crazy, it has you rocking your hips against his hand "uh, feels good, yes"

he holds one of your legs up, making you wrap it around his hip before he adds two more fingers to his strokes, his thumb pressed against your clit while his lips travel to your jaw and neck, pressing you more onto the wall.

a soft but long moan escapes your lips as soon as he slides two fingers inside you, it brings a halt to your movements when he starts pumping with his hand as his eyes are fixed on yours "what a nice and thight pussy you have, i'm dying to bury my cock on you"

"it's mean saying it and not doing it right away" your words come out breathy, a hand pulling him in for a messy and sloppy kiss while his fingers move deep inside you making you gasp and whimper while you tug on his hair before kissing his neck, the taste of his expensive perfume making your tongue linger for a little more.

"and skip foreplay? hm, i don't think i could miss making you so needy for me, feeling you so wet" dick's lips are behind your ear, he kisses your lobe while his thumb draws his name on your clit and he laughs when you squirm on a certain letter that he traces all again before he stops.

your hands pushing him back makes dick look at you with a small smirk when one of your hands runs down his chest, undoing his belt and the first button of his jeans while you walk him until his back is touching the wall.

"you're being incredibly mean, that's hot" your words are filled with a sort of tease dick is sure he has never heard before, this was new and completely calling because it wasn't just your words, it was also the fact that you kissed your way to his pelvis until you were kneeling in front of him.

it's easy to pull down his jeans when there's no one watching and you are so eager to taste him, lips brushing against his clothed length while one of your hands is caressing him from above his boxers "you're gonna put that mouth to better use, pretty?" he asks teasingly, letting out a sigh through gritted teeth while his left hand fixes your hair behind your ear.

"you'll be surprised" it's a simple talk back but as soon as your hands pull the front of his boxers down he feels his cock getting harder if it's even possible and the way your eyes shine at the sight makes him smirk.

his breath catches on his throat when you don't really wait to wrap your lips around his tip, tongue playing with it and your eyes fixed on his. this was completely different to what he imagined plenty of times before, it was way better because your warm mouth taking almost all of his cock while you sucked him off was like being on heaven, your hands wrapped on his base to stroke what you couldn't take made him see stars.

"fuck... you look so pretty, that mouth was made for my cock, wasn't it?" he asks, his fingers gripping your hair to bring you closer and he laughs when you gag at the way he slides a little deeper on your throat "little slut made for me, gonna fuck that throat of yours, 'kay?" and the hum that escapes you it's his green light.

both of his hands hold your face for him to start thrusting into your mouth, your eyes teary and the trails of saliva that drip down your chin makes it ten times better because there's no way he's been missing this to replace your mouth with his hand.

he's too into it, his hips giving slow but deep strokes while you moan muffled against him, nose pressed against his skin when dick makes you look up at him through your tears before letting go of you and the soft 'pop' that comes from you when you release his tip draws a growl out of him.

"i don't think this is enough, baby" he speaks as soon you stand up and the way he looks around tells you he is indeed looking for a better place.

"c'mon, there might be a nice place around here" words that tell dick that this has been what you wanted since you invited him and it makes his ego boost like nothing else while you both fix your clothes.

the darl hallway leads to the stairs to the second floor and to your room, once there dick sees no use on wasting too much time so his hands find their way to your hips.

"so you've had this in mind all this time?" he asks, leaning in to lay a small trail of kisses while his hands slide under your top to caress your stomach.

your hands go to find his, taking them out of your top and turning around, pulling dick into another deep and hungry kiss that leaves him breathless and makes his heart run when you smirk against his lips.

"how could i've missed an opportunity like this?" words as sweet as honey but hot as hell because there's an intention on them that could make anyone go crazy "no when i've seen the way you look at me and i don't think you don't know i want you"

it's enough for dick to walk you over your bed while he undoes the buttons of your jeans once again, his hands working on getting you undressed before he's bending you "so you've been thinking about me? have you ever thought about how good it would be to have me inside of you?" he asks, his hands gripping your ass and squeezing it before he lets fall a playful slap against your skin.

"i've thought a lot about it... i've seen how you look at me and i swear i just want you to fuck me" your words are muffled by the music that plays loudly all across your house mixed with the sounds dick's clothes make when he is getting undressed and before you can turn to look at him he's grinding his cock between your wet folds.

"good thing i came here then, because i haven't been able to stop thinking about how much i would love to have you to scream my name while i strech your pretty cunt" he leans in, whispering into your ear before he presses a hot kiss on your shoulder.

dick is impacient, that you can tell since he didn't waited a lot more before he slid inside of you, growling in an almost animalistic way that made your body tense. his hands gripping thight on your hips as he inhaled deeply, trying so hard not to come already from how good it felt to finally having you moaning underneath him.

"look at that... you feel so good, so thight around my cock" he mutters when his hips stroke slowly into your pulsing walls, he is teasing you and seeking for you to push your hips back "you're so needy, fucking yourself with me like a bitch in heat" dick is smiling widely, you're sure he's not the kind of guy to stay quiet during sex and that only turns you on more.

his hand snakes from your hip to your neck, holding you harshly to make you bend back as his hips slap against your body, his face next to yours making sure you hear every single grunt he lets out while you moan loudly, his free hand playing with one of your nipples while he keeps thrusting.

"taking me so fucking good, you're such a nice whore" his voice is low and raspy, some of his words come out slurred but you can barely notice because he knows where to touch you to make you squirm under his weight "can't even speak, bet you would love it if i filled your greedy cunt up, right? having me to let your pussy so full of my cum"

his hand grips your throat thighter, fingers digging into your neck when he chokes you as you try to speak "f–fuck, i want it... want you to cum inside of me, yes" and your answer makes him go harder, letting go of your tits his hand trails now between your legs, fingers circling fast on your clit just to make you whine.

"oh, such a greedy, nasty girl" he speaks, his thumb pressing on the sensitive nub between your legs "begging to be nothing but a cumwhore, is that what you want? being used until you pass out" his teeth sunk into your neck before he lets go, dick's hand still holding your neck.

there's no way you can keep up with his talk, words dying on your throat because he tilts his hips to hit every spot that makes you scream to drive you insane and you realize this was a lot more of what you thought it would be but the way dick was fucking you had you seeing the stars and feeling the flames of hell licking your skin with every deep thrust he gave.

he towered over you, his hips moving in a way that made the tip of his cock hammer against your cervix making your mouth fall open, breathlessly moaning just for him to take advantage of it by spitting into your mouth.

"you're so wasted, so damn pathetic... already brain dead, bunny" there's a hint of cruelty on his voice that doesn't match the sloppy kisses he's leaving on your shoulders "squeezing so good, are you gonna cum already? bet you'll make a fucking mess around my cock"

he laughs when you nod, desperate as your walls clench painfully around him when your climax reaches you in a loud moan, so hard your vision goes blurry from it and he grunts at the feeling.

"so fucking weak... look at this mess, baby, gonna fill up that nasty cunt" dick growls on your ear, his hips moving at a messier pace only making the lewd noises louder until you feel him spilling inside of you.

his body crushing on top of yours when he finishes releasing his thick load inside of you, leaving your body shaking from the intensity of it all and there's not so much words left to say so dick is just kissing the back of your neck, his hands caressing your waist in a soothing manner.

the party was still going on in the first floor of your house but it didn't troubled you anymore right there with dick burried deep inside of you, making sure you didn't wasted a single drop of his cum.

#mara's thoughts #dick grayson x latina!reader #dick grayson x you #dick grayson imagine #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson x fem!reader #dick grayson x y/n #dick grayson #nightwing #dc comics