#THIS IS A JOKE I KNOW WHAT GIRLS GONE WILD IS
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We all know what a “gonewild” subreddit is, and some have even heard of the “ur”-gone wild subreddit, known simply as r/gonewild. But lately, I’ve had the sneaking suspicion that even this might have a yet further namesake. But I know next-to-nothing about it.
At first I thought it might have been some kind of pornographic news show feature that they used to fill time on air before they started reading tweets. But the chance memory of a Rhett and Link lyric threw that theory on its head.
The song “Squirrel Rights” is about two squirrels confronting you for filming them without consent. The line in question is:
If you don't cease and desist, a suit will be filed/Especially if we end up in the next Squirrels Gone Wild
Surprisingly, “Squirrels Gone Wild” follows the name format of subreddits like r/altgonewild or r/gaymersgonewild, rather than that of the plain r/gonewild. I can think of two ways to explain this.
There were actually many pre-reddit Gone Wilds. There was an Alt Gone Wild, a Gaymers Gone Wild, etc., and these are what got adapted into subreddits first. Later, a “neutral” gonewild subreddit was created, and called simply r/gonewild.
There was only one pre-reddit Gone Wild, but it wasn’t called “Gone Wild”. It was called something like “People Gone Wild”, and this is the name Rhett and Link are parodying. For an unaccountable reason, the subreddit named after it dropped the first word. The memory of there having been a first word may have inspired the naming of some of the spinoffs.
I have no way of deciding between these two theories.
Moving past the name, let’s take a look at what it might have actually been like.
Logically extending the premise of the song from squirrels to people would seem to imply that the original Gone Wild consisted of photographs or videos of unsuspecting people in public spaces, rather like r/creepshots. But not only would that raise the question of why gonewild subreddits only accept consensual pictures, it would also seem to contradict the titular concept of “going wild”
To go wild, at least as it is understood on the gone wild subreddits, connotes abandoning one’s shame, specifically the shame that attaches to one’s most eroticized bodily regions, whereas the subjects of an r/creepshots-type exhibition, being unaware, do no such abandonment. So maybe we probably shouldn’t take the reference so literally. It’s still possible that Gone Wild consisted, like the subreddits, of audience-submitted photos.
There is one thing I think we can learn from the song. There’s another word in the lyrics that stands out. “Next”.
This implies that Gone Wild was released in installments. Perhaps a TV show or a magazine, but not something as frequent as a news show segment.
Anyway, that’s all the evidence I could find. Our reconstruction is extremely hazy. If anyone is privy to a potential piece of evidence on this topic, please send it to me and I may revisit.
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Core, what about a bit of competition with ps! Gaz? Some new girl who think's she's already the darling of the studio takes a liking to Gaz, but finds out about his ties with reader.
The one time she gets to film with Gaz, she overplays her role and absolutely covers his neck, collar, shoulder, everything with hickeys, hoping it will deter the reader.
So imagine her shock when the next day, she pops into his dressing room and finds the reader in there as well, applying foundation over the marks and littered with dozens from Gaz himself. ❤️
(I realize how dumb this sounds as an ask but it's been rotting my brain for days and I desperately need it gone so I can focus on my college classes 😭)
thanks this has also been rotting my brain because i just love putting people in their place (: more ps!gaz here <3
The crux of your ass sits in perfect place on Kyle's thighs while your legs straddle the expanse of his hips. Warm hands rest on your waist as you manhandle his jaw, tilting his head side to side to get better access to his neck. Thick, round hickeys litter the delicate skin around his throat and down to his shoulders in angry, red pinpoint marks that break the beautiful and even tone of his skin with something revolting. They look like proper bruises rather than the after effects of a... wild video shoot. As if someone had tried to strangle him rather than make love to him.
You remember the video well, along with that new model with her fake blonde hair and even faker tan that they had paired Kyle with to shoot the other day. You had only seen her in person one time, and you vividly recall the way her blue eyes rolled over your body, assessing every inch of you before ultimately deciding you were worth very little time. Confidence was a must when you worked in the porn industry, but her attitude borders on an arrogance you haven't seen since your teenage years in public school.
As you apply yellow color corrector onto the dark marks on his skin, you nearly shiver as the images of her stained lips suckling on Kyle's neck flood your mind. There was little room to feel jealousy about her ravaging your favorite co-star when you were too busy cringing. So childish. Over zealous. You nearly cried tears of laughter when you noticed Kyle's expression, grimacing at the wet tongue and annoying teeth that nipped at him, yet still having to pretend to enjoy it. Even the comments on the video joked about it.
Put him back with the other model.
"If I didn't know any better, I would have thought someone tried to strangle you," you tease.
"She might as well have," Kyle sighs. He adjusts his shoulders against the back of the chair, bare pecs flexing with the movement, bringing your attention to the uncovered marks that line his collarbone. "Haven't been able to go out in public without a goddamn turtleneck 'cause of her."
You chuckle as you finish applying and buffing out the rest of the color corrector along his skin. It leaves him looking sickly and discolored, which oddly enough is an improvement to what it looked like before. Setting the corrector to the side, you grab foundation next, hips swaying as you attempt to get some movement in your aching knees. Holding that position for so long without moving had them burning with fatigue.
"Need a break, doll?" Kyle prompts, hands sliding from your waist to your thighs.
"Don't know if we have time for a break. Got a lot of ground to cover before we start," you humor.
Kyle sits forward, throwing you off balance, yet he doesn't let you sway very far before his arms wrap around you, hands supporting your back. Adoring eyes crease as a grin floods his face. Even without the aid of studio lights he glows like a god as he leans closer and places a kiss on your neck.
"Show can't start without us," he says, teeth grazing your skin as he wanders down to your collarbone. "Could always give you a few hickeys to match, if you want."
He doesn't wait for you to answer before his tongue glides across your clavicles just for his teeth to follow right after. A chuckle rumbles in his chest at the tightening of your legs around his hips, and his hands only pull you closer. It doesn't take much for you to give in. Head rolling back, muscles melting as his lips conquer everything you're willing to give him. It's a delicate softness mixed with a brutal bite, something that leaves you gasping as he pulls the very air from your lungs and feeds on the sounds.
Kyle is more starved for you than usual. Sick of the fake, over dramatic screeching he got last week with that other model, he's hungry for the real thing. Hungry for you.
The unopened foundation falls free from your loose fingers and rolls along the floor into some forgotten corner when his hands wander underneath your shirt. It's a dance he has memorized; unclasping your bra without a second thought and tearing both it and your shirt off in a single, swift motion. He gives you little time to recover before his mouth is on your tits, kissing a sparse trail until he's rolling a perky nipple between his lips.
His bare skin feels like heaven underneath the palm of your hands as you grip his shoulders for stability. He'd take you on the cold, dressing room floors, you knew he would. A part of you wanted him to. Fuck the shoot, they should've learned well enough to put cameras in the dressing rooms by that point with how handsy Kyle Garrick always was with you.
"Can't wait until we get on set to try and undo me?" you ask breathlessly.
"Doll, I'll undo you right here and then again on set if you asked me to," he mumbles into your skin.
A quiet squeak interrupts your moment and the ambiance of the room shifts when the door to Kyle's dressing room opens. His hands grow stiff against your spine as you look over your shoulder at the figure in the doorway. You smell her perfume before you recognize her. Something drowning and floral, like a mall department store. It burns your nose, yet you're too distracted by the slack-mouth surprise etched onto the features of the new blood's face.
It's cute; her confusion. How her eyes flicker over your bare back and Kyle's hands pressed against your skin like he's cradling the only thing he cares for in the world. The dots just can't quite connect in her mind as to why he hasn't completely fallen for her yet, as if the only way she knows how to lure men is by butchering their neck with discolored marks. She can't comprehend why he'd rather have you in his lap than her.
Kyle draws a shocked groan from you when his teeth nip at your shoulder, and your eyes have no choice but to fall away from the woman in the doorway as he pulls you closer to him. His chin gently rests on your shoulder as he stares at the model, hands moving to rest on your hips.
"Need somethin?" he asks, bored.
There is very little you wouldn't have given to see the look on her face, but the small huff followed by the door slamming shut is good enough. Small giggles rattle your body as you lean back to get a better look at Kyle, as if your body would throw a fit if he wasn't within your sight. There's an inexplicable relief that floods his face as he looks up at you, and he mirrors your smile.
"What?" he defends. "Only asked her if she needed somethin."
"I think you broke her heart," you patronize.
"She'll live," he mumbles, lips falling against the crook of your neck again. "Your heart is the only one I care about, anyway."
#pornstar!gaz#gaz x reader#kyle garrick x reader#gaz x reader smut#cod smut#kyle gaz garrick x reader#kyle garrick x reader smut#f!reader
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you should do johnnie x fem!reader but she has a christina piercing
Call Me
*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*
Summary: A post-breakup piercing turns into something much more
Pairing: Body piercer!Johnnie x feminine reader
Warnings: NSFW content, dirty talk, fingering (f), genital piercing
Word Count: 1k
A/N: Thank you for the request! I didn't write a ton of super in-depth smut because of legality (even though this is au and a fanfic, i try to keep it semi appropriate <3), but if you'd like a part 2, send it in my inbox!!
*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*
You had never been a wild girl. Down to have fun? Sure. But never wild. All of that changed today, though, as you walked into your local tattoo and piercing parlor. Having recently gone through a rather messy breakup, you decided the best way to find yourself again was to reclaim your own body. A tattoo had seemed a bit too permanent, whereas ear and nose piercings had seemed too basic. After a bit of research, you had decided on a Christina piercing. Was it a bit out there? Definitely. Then again, no one had to know about it except you and your sexual partners down the line.
You signed your name in at the front desk, feeling so thankful you didn’t have to put down what kind of piercing you wanted. As excited as you were, that would be too embarrassing for you. You waited, anxiously tapping your leg until a man came from the back and called your name.
“Y/N?”
You stood up, meeting him at the door to the back in quick strides. “I’m right here.”
“I’m Johnnie. I’ll be your piercer today. Come on back.” the man nodded, leading you into the studio.
Whatever you had done to piss off the universe, you regretted it. Not only were you about to have a man pierce your clit, he was hot too. He had the classic emo style that you hadn’t seen anyone in real life wear since like 2008, and tattoos and piercings littered his own skin. You couldn’t help but to stare at his spider bites, wondering what it would feel like to kiss and tug on them.
“My eyes are up here.” Johnnie joked, leading you into a private room and closing the door.
‘Fuck, Y/N. Get it together.’ You thought, forcing your eyes to roam up Johnnie’s face to meet his own. That was a mistake, though, because your piercer had the iciest, most gorgeous blue eyes you had ever seen, rimmed with dark eyeliner that only added to his good looks and complemented his long, black hair.
“Sorry, I’m a little anxious.” You mumbled, cheeks burning.
“I understand,” Johnnie smiled kindly. “So, what piercing were you looking to get today?”
“I, um…” You started, but the words got lost in your throat.
“Let me guess. Nips?” he chuckled.
You shook your head, embarrassingly flustered and Johnnie’s eyes widened with realization.
“I see. Well, a Christina is an anatomy based piercing, so I’ll have to assess before I pierce. Is that okay?” he asked, keeping a cool, professional tone.
You nodded, your cheeks so beyond red both from the conversation and because of how hot Johnnie was. You honestly wished that this was another setting, because you knew he had to remain professional, no matter how badly he or you wanted it. Johnnie politely turned his back while you shimmied out of your pants, knowing there was no going back now. An unfamiliar man was about to see your whole pussy in bright, LED lights and you honestly wished you were more uncomfortable with it.
Once he had gotten confirmation from you, Johnnie turned around, pulling some black, latex gloves onto his hands. “I’m going to touch you now, okay?”
He moved to spread your legs, slowly caressing your inner thighs gently. As Johnnie moved towards your slit, you prayed he wouldn’t notice the dampness that had pooled between your thighs. His gracefully artistic fingers neared your clit and you couldn’t help but to let out a tiny moan at how great it felt. You hadn’t gotten laid in over a month, and you were desperate for an orgasm that wasn’t the product of your hand or battery operated ‘friends’. If Johnnie noticed, he was too polite to say anything. He plucked a flashlight from the medical cart beside him and examined you a bit more. You couldn’t help but to notice the way his fingers lingered on your clit for a moment longer than they should have as you let out another moan.
“You like that?” he chuckled, seeming to be joking.
You didn’t know what possessed you to do it, but you nodded softly, whispering out a “yes.”
Johnnie hummed, coming around the side of the table and whispering in your ear, his breath hot on your neck. “Tell me, Y/N, are you single? Does your boyfriend know you’re trying to get off on my fingers?”
You blushed, trying to arch into his touch. “I’m single.” You grunted out against the arousal.
“Thought so,” he smirked. “Better for me.”
Johnnie turned his back to you as he prepped the needle and jewelry, almost in a teasing way. You heard the plastic opening and couldn’t help but to think about the way that would be the sound of Johnnie opening a condom, prepping himself to go inside you. God, you needed to get it together.
“Are you ready?” he asked you, spreading your legs as he held the needle.
You nodded, eager to see how Johnnie would do this and how it would look. “I am.”
“Deep breath. 1, 2, 3,” Johnnie inserted the needle, quickly and expertly giving you the Christina piercing you had been looking forward to. “Good girl,” he was practically moaning himself. He quickly cleaned you up, caressing your pussy gently and with loving care. “Took that like a fuckin’ champ.”
You blushed at his praise, your clit throbbing both from the pain and from the arousal. “Thank you.”
Johnnie walked you out of the room and to the front counter for you to pay. You were rather disappointed when he disappeared into the back again as you handed the cash for your piercing to the girl working the front desk. Just as you were about to leave, though, Johnnie opened the door and slid a card across the counter to you.
“Aftercare instructions.” he winked.
You flipped the card over as you walked out of the building, only to see a phone number scribbled in messy, black ink on the back with a ‘;)’ and a heart. Somehow, you’d gone in for a piercing, and come out with both a piercing and the desire for a fuck buddy.
#johnnie guilbert#johnnie guilbert fanfic#johnnie guilbert x reader#johnnie guilbert fic#johnnie guilbert fanfiction#johnnie and jake#fanfic#jake webber fluff#jake webber fanfic#jake webber fanfiction#jake webber#jake and johnnie#johnnie guilbert smut#johnnie guilbert fluff#the tinas#tara yummy#jake webber smut#johnnie guilbert edit#fanfiction#body piercing#body piercer au#tattoo artist au#jake webber x reader#johnnie guilbert x you
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Funny Gaming moments with Lando and Max (F) x QuadrantStreamer! Reader
Plot: Just funny moments where Reader is a member of Quadrant and is a big UK streamer that does everything on Twitch and YouTube.
A/N: this is only small and just for fun, better Lando stuff is coming out.
Credit to formulaonedirection for the GIF
Moment 1:
"Do you earn more than Lando Norris, chat you guys are wild ... but honestly with my individual sponsors, YouTube and streaming and any of my weird side activities I think it'd be up for debate" you giggle not actually knowing how much difference there was in what you or Lando earned.
"Not girlie casually admitting that with her side hustle she earns as much as an F1 driver, yeah guys, you gotta think I stream and upload full time. So i get paid for each YouTube video I do, I'm a twitch affiliate and you guys are so so generous. I game competitively and earn from that. I have sponsors, so ... lets just say i had no trouble buying Lando's Christmas presents" you grin, knowing the man had widely expensive taste.
"Who am i spending Christmas with, well Lando's family has asked if I'd like to join them, but I'll be spending the holidays mostly with Max and Pietra. Oh my gosh guys, did you see Instagram? I met Martin Garrix! How cool is that!" you laugh.
Moment 2:
"So I'm here today with Lando, and I'm teaching him Valorant, he knows that I'm in good but I don't think he knows I'm Immortal" you say until you unmute yourself in discord.
"Hey Lando baby" you joke but all you get from the otherside is silence which makes your chat go absolutely crazy.
You hear a few coughs that sound like choking, so you check his stream making sure not to tab out on stream, seeing him sat there in shock in his chair blushing.
"Lando?" you ask, and you watch as he rearranges himself in his chair pulling the mic closer to him.
"Hi, hello yes. Sorry you just threw me off guard" he laughs, wiping across his face with his fingers.
"What are we?" he asks, and you burst out laughing at the question which makes him laugh too. Chat on both ends starts going crazy, with the spam of Lando Norizz <<< Y/N the Rizzler and you were both dying.
Moment 3:
"Argghh fuck" you scream leaning back and fulling falling back off your chair. You were currently playing the horror game ' In Silence with Max, Lando and Ria.
"No way did Y/N just fall?" Max asks laughing at the girl whose stream he pulled up seeing her laying on the floor gripping her shoulder while her chair was now also laying in the floor.
"SHE DID" Lando laughs and you groan out in embarrassment.
Moment 4:
"What was that chat? My door reopened and closed shut while I was gone?" you ask looking back at your door. You knew you were home alone, the only people having a key to your apartment being Max and Pietra and Lando. But they were all travelling right now and were on the plane.
"Chat, stop messing with me" you scold jokingly, you start to load up the game your changing too. However a knock at your bedroom door has you stilling.
"What" you mouth looking at the camera. You go to the door, chat spamming saying how by opening the door that how all the dumb movie characters die. You here another knock making you flinch, you rip open the door, screaming when you see the scary mask, jumping and tacking the person now.
"Ow Y/N fuck" you hear and you rip the mask of, knowing that voice but not wanting to assume.
"Lando?" you ask looking at him.
"I thought it would be funny" he jokes laughing.
Moment 4:
"So Lando, Max and I thought it would be funny to play Valorant but for every kill we get we do a shot" you exclaim.
"Y/N gonna need new kidneys by the end of this? Hmmm very true, maybe we change it to every time we die we do a shot?" you ask seeing what chat's opinion would be on that.
"Then Lando and Max will be needing new kidneys? Well, I'm playing on my alt account and I'm just chilling so we'll be in gold/silver lobbies. Last time we played on my normal account, it was a struggle.
"Lets ask what they prefer! Guys? You want to do shots every time we get a kill or when we die?" you ask after unmuting yourself.
"We playing with MILF account of FnaticY/N?" Lando asks.
"MILF of course. And no comps, I'm not being called a booster" you grin and Max groans, Max was gold 2 and was asking for you to coach him, you had watched him in unrated's but refused to do comps together.
"Wait, when did you change your name...didnt it used to be Ilovetits6?" Max laughs.
"Yes, but chat started to call me mother? So i just rolled with it" you grin looking at chat and winking.
Moment 5:
"Are you and Lando Norris dating?" you ask, and then you open your phone and call Lando himself.
"Hey baby!" you smile and show the chat what Lando is saved as and the picture while he's on speakerphone.
"Hey love. I'm a little late coming back. I got stuck here with Zac and Oscar, but Max and P wanted to know if you would like to go out for dinner with them tonight" he asks and you laugh.
"Wait, Y/N are you live"
"Maybe, look you said you were ready to go public. So this is payback for what you did to Max on stream!" you laugh, knowing he wont be mad at you, as you'd talked recently about going public.
"Exposed? Yes yes i did" you grin.
Moment 6:
"Y/N your boyfriend is horny come sort him out" AngryGinge says adding you to the call forcefully mid stream.
"Mmmm that sounds like a job for you" you says seriously and you pull up his and Lando's stream to watch what was going on. Some people had come into your stream to say to get Lando to end the stream before PR has his head.
"He's been moaning on stream Y/N get your man and take him home"
"Yeah sorry let me just hop on the jet to Monaco..." you joke, knowing you definitely don't have a private jet.
"Wait, just how rich are you? Your boyfriends out here buying watches for 400k, you have a private jet. This just ain't right!" he exclaims making you laugh.
"I don't have a private jet. But... I've been in one of Max Verstappen's" you boast, you'd been introduced to him through Lando as Kelly wanted to meet you and set you up with her modelling agency.
"Huh? WHAT?" he screams and you just laugh before leaving the call. You shoot Lando a teasing message watching his eyes change as he reads it, and he lets out a groan that soon turns into a joke as Angry Ginge yelled at him to calm down again.
Moment 7:
"Salem stop" you tell your cat, which had jumped up and starting to paw in your lap where the blanket lay across before flopping down wanting fuss.
She started to meow at you not getting the wanted attention, but you were in the middle of an important rank up game, that would put you as radiant in Valorant.
As the game went on, you apologized to your teammates when you died after nearly clutching a round when Salem distracted you by pawing at your hand on your mouse.
"Salem please bub. 3 more rounds and you can have all the cuddles in the world" you whisper to the cat before she settles down, you proceed to Ace the next round and your team and you win the next two. The end of the game, with the MVP you get promoted to Radiant #497.
You celebrated by grabbing Salem your black Bombay cat and hugging her tightly, she leans into you wrapping her paws around happy for the affection she's finally getting.
"Treat?" you ask receiving a meow.
Chat:
y/nloverrr02- not y/n celebrating like she just got a podium
landonorizz- what's harder, f1 win, or reaching the top 500 valorant players
wedonttalkabouther- please, mother is mothering!
deadlocknerf- not her top fragging as an omen and their jett with a negative kda.
lockandassit- well done on the promo!
LandoNorris- Babe! Well done! I watched your win! I'm so proud
"Thank you, everybody. I think I'll leave it there for the day and I'll come back and we can try and get into the 450's!" you exclaim before cutting stream.
Taglist:
@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @stupidandunnecessary @clayra-g @daemyratwst @honey-belden @moonypixel @lauralarsen @vader-is-hot @ironcowboycopnickel @itsjustkhaos @the-untamed-soul @beebo86 @happylittlereader @ziejustme @lou-larcher5 @thewulf @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @chillyleclerc @chanthereader @annoyingmoonballoon @summissss @evieepepi08 @havaneseoger08 @celesteblack08 @gulphulp @fandom1ruined2me @celebstories @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhh @georgeparisole @dakotatankbig @youcannotcancelquidditch @zzonsbeek @tallbrownhairsarcastic @mellowarcadefun @ourteenagetragedy @otako5811 @countingstacksandpanicattacks @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @hopexcroc @mirrorball-6 @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @bigsimperika @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @lilypadlover
#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#formula 1 x you#formula 1#formula one#formula one fanfiction#lando norris imagine#lando norris#lando x reader#lando norris fanfic#lando norris x reader#max fewtrell#max fewtrell x reader
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emperor rudolf did not need a sign from the heavens to do that
#talk#valentia#gaiden did it better less is more#jokes but#dunno if id back it but what if alms birthmark was artificial like a tattoo that would be wild#would make rudolf seem That more unhinged#lowkey insp by a fic i read a while ago but yknow#or if it was natural like id assumed during fe2 then rudolf would have just looked at that and the gods and gone im gonna make my son the#Chosen One with no regard for his (emotional) wellbeing#my original frustrations are that 1) gaiden never said whether the brand was of divine origin#and it would be part of the Chosen One subversion thing i hoped would happen#only that rudolf told zeke to 'follow this guy'#2) celica didnt need a brand to water down her Conviction to help her country and try to take history into her own hands#and it would preserve the original spin on mycens 'you and the red haired girl' that actually meant that they would be acting during the#strife that rudolf alone incited bc he didnt need a blood pact to know that there had to be an Intervention#and that he would Play God#like i think i missed the fact that there was an ancient blood pact LMAO#this is all just based off my memory so if ive got smth wrong LMAOOO#trying to not be repetitive and keep my sixth-monthly sov moaning to a minimum aaaaah
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I Miss You, Mr. Miller
DBF!Joel Miller x fem!reader
Masterlist
Summary: Joel makes you WET wet.
AKA
There's a pun here about eggs somewhere.
Warnings: Masturbating, sex toys, body worship, "little bunny", joel making sure reader knows he's old man, degrading, almost getting caught.
Immersivity: Reader is fem, dresses very feminine. Drinks and celebrates Christian holidays, not is christian but like family and culturally. Major age gap. Big girthy age gap but reader is 21+. Mentions of church.
A/N: Part of the DBF!Joel Holiday fuck series but you don't gotta read the previous part. I missed Easter OOPS so now we get a flashback.
1.3k words
You liked to start off slow, take your time with yourself. Hands, gliding over your shirt, feeling your body all the way down to your thighs. You learned this from Joel.
Sure a quickie was fun, especially under the threat of being caught, but Joel preferred to take his time with you. Likewise, you started to mimic this when masturbating. Joel you could, theoretically, take the vibe to your clit, put on some Gone Wild Audio and git’er done, but why? Why not show your body the appreciation it deserved. You were beautiful. You were sexy. Joel wasn’t the only one who could enjoy it.
Joel knelt before your spread legs, hands running up and down your pretty little Easter dress. Your dad had invited Joel over for Easter dinner, and you’d stayed in your dress all day to make sure he saw you in it. Joel was certain to show his appreciation.
“Such a pretty dress… such a pretty little bunny…” His fingers tweaked your nipples as he eyed you. “M one lucky old man.”
You giggle. “Thank you, Mr. Miller.”
Joel hummed. He loved when you called him that. Today, he’d had to hide the bonner he was sporting after you greeted him as Mr. Miller in your cute dress, hair all done up… he couldn’t stop thinking how he’d railed you in the church bathroom after Good Friday services… dirty, dirty girl.
Your hand skimmed over your clit at the memory… you might not need any porn this time, you were so turned on, so sensitive… you whimper at the first touch. Cupping your breasts, you try to get the feeling Joel gave when he touched them, but it wasn’t the same. Joel’s hands were large, rough, sure… Still, it felt good touching such sensitive parts of your body, and you sigh. You remember how much Joel praised you on Easter, touch yourself to the echo of his voice.
“Darling, beautiful girl… just look at you, cock dumb girl begging to be fucked with her dad downstairs… surrounded by teddies and pink frilly pillows… act’n like such a good girl, but you ain’t, are yuh?”
“Joooooel” You whine under his touch. “No, I’m a good girl…”
“Nuh-uh” Joel rips open your white tights to find you bare. “Good girls wear underwear to church.” he runs two fingers up your slicked up cunt. “Good girls don’t get wet for grumpy old men.”
You plunge two fingers into your core quickly dissatisfied so you add another. That makes you moan. You begin to pump them in and out of yourself, nowhere near as thick and god, not hitting close to how deep Joel hits you, when he fucks you raw. It’s wholly unsatisfying, but you were just getting started.
Joel finger fucked you, his two middle fingers pumping you at a rapid pace. “Naughty, naughty girl, little cunt clenching on my fingers… I can feel how tight you're getting, but you can’t cum yet… you wanna behave, don’t you? Or are you just as bad as I thought you were… Jesus Christ darl’n, can’t wait to get my cock up my bunny girl's guts again, shit, ‘m gonna miss you.”
Sarah was graduating college next year, and Joel was taking her on a road trip for a few weeks to tour colleges. Tommy had joked, saying he could ‘take care of yuh’ while he’s gone but Joel smacked him upside the head.
“Joel” you whimper. “I think… fuck… I think I’m gonna pee”
Instead of getting off you, Joel grinned. “Keep hold’n, baby… Ima take care of you.”
You stuff your cunt full of four fingers, just trying to get a taste of what Joel left you with, a bit of that memory. Chanting his name, ‘Joel, Joel, Joel’ You chase that high that’s starting to build in your stomach. You remember how he fingered you, how he kissed your neck, arms, stomach, legs, every single inch of your body he loved so much.
“Joel!” You try to warn him again, but he’s not listening. Instead, he brings his face close to your dripping hole.
“Let it go, sweet bunny, let go.”
Fuck. He edged you for 20 minutes, even as your mom walked past your door gossiping on the phone about Mrs. McKenzie’s nose ring. You’d warned him, now he’d deal with the consequences. Can’t be as bad as when you’d thrown up on him after St. Patrick's Day.
But when you let go, you cum. It’s hard, liquid shooting out of your body but it didn’t feel like pee. Your legs shake, body seizing up in shock from the sheer force of your orgasm. Joel laps it up, hungrily devouring your, drinking you up like you were communion wine.
Vibrator on your clit, you remember how Joel ate you out as you came, grinding his hips against the bed, small little moans escaping his pretty little mouth, he bucked and licked and humped and sucked, growling when you stopped and eating you out until you came again, desperately biting your lip to not scream his name. Here in your apartment, in your own bed that Joel carried up here on Presidents Day, you could scream if you wanted to. And you did. Your orgasm hitting you, you keep the vibrator to the exact pressure it was at and ride out your orgasm wishing it was on Joel’s face.
Joel kissed you, his soaking wet face and beard all over yours as you lay there in shock, completely spent from the orgasm.
“What…” You pant. “Was that…”
Joel couldn’t keep his mouth off your skin very long, only barely managing to mumble that you squirted. “Such a good girl, oh my god, I was wrong, you’re just, fuuuuck, such a good fuck’n girl…”
You smile against him. “You gonna fuck me or what, Mr. Miller?”
Joel ground his crotch against yours. Wet. “Your little stunt make me cum in my pants like I’m a fuck’n teenager again, yuh lil brat.” He flicked a tit playfully.
Once every last bit of pleasure was exhausted, when you had cum your hear out to the thought of Joel fucking Miller between your legs, loudly and proudly. You sit up and smile at the phone at you pillow, still recording. You make sure to save the voice note in messenger, then cue it up to send it to Joel.
Sweet Thing: Use headphones, don’t open around Sarah ;)
*Send* You fall back on your bed, smiling.
“Joel?” Your dad called along with your name, making you startle. “I know you’re in there!”
You look to Joel in a panic, eyes wide and scared. Not scared of your dad, perse, he was good natured. Scared of disappointing him.
Your dad again. “Your boots are still at the door and it’s too muddy to go outside without em, open the damn door.”
Joel turned to you, whispering. “I’ll take the fall, it was my idea.”
You and Joel both stand, looking more proper. Joel’s black pants covered the fact he came in them, and your dress covered your ripped tights“Joel, no-” But he cut you off with a stern look.
“Ima take care of you, darl’n, understand?”
You nod. Joel unlocks the door and your dad steps in, arms crossed. “I know what you two are doing.”
Joel steps forward. “Listen man, it ain’t her fault.”
Your dad held out a hand. “Hey, I don’t care if you guys smoke weed together.”
You blink. He thought you were sneaking off together for a blunt? “Oh… you don’t?” You don’t smoke weed. Joel does, but you never found much interest.
“Nah,” He waved his hand. “Just do it behind the garage, okay? It ain’t legal here yet. The neighbors can see your window from here.”
Joel cleared his throat. “Right, right, thanks man.”
“Thanks dad, sorry.”
Your dad chuckled. “I’m the cool dad, remember!”
Your dad was absolutely not cool, but he was fun. A good dad. And you and Joel dodged a bullet, but you needed to be more careful. You run off to pretend to smoke a blunt.
SORRY IM LATE YALL LMFAOOOOO
Lum to me: Are you not doing the holiday Joel series anymore ;-;?
Me: Did I miss a holiday?
YEAH JUST EASTER I GUESS
I relayed this story to Clem and said "not my fault, I don't celebrate easter anyway, Jesus means nothing to Jews"
Clem "DIDN"T YOU CELEBRATE EASTER FOR A CHUNK OF YOUR LIFE?"
She's right! but she didn't have to say it :((((((( lmfaooooo
Anyway I did a new chapter of this AND and new Room's on fire so, y'all'er welcome XD
Check out my upcoming pride event!
hugs!
Im phasing out my taglist, so make sure to follow @romana-updates
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#joel miller#joel miller smut#joel miller x reader#fem reader#tlou smut#tlou#joel tlou#joel the last of us#joel fanfiction#the last of us fanfiction#the last of us#daddy joel#daddy joel miller#dbf joel#dads best friend#dads best friend joel#dbf joel miller#joel miller tlou#tlou fanfiction#the last of us hbo#tlou hbo#tlou fic#joel miller fanfic#joel miller one shot#joel miller x you#joel miller fic
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JOHN PRICE - ATTITUDE READJUSTMENT
— warning: in no way this is meant to sexualize anyone, this is all entertainment purposes only. thanks for reading.
- harsh language. possessive behavior. smut scenes which includes eating out. shit gets wild.
Who the fuck does he think he is? Thinking he can just waltz in my life out of the absolute blue and tell me I’m his? What a delusional fuck. I threw my phone directly at the pillow before plopping myself haphazardly onto my bed, glaring at the ceiling angrily. If only he knew what I was like, really knew what a bitch I could be.
Fuck him. He doesn’t know a thing about me, never has he even attempted to. He doesn’t know my favorite color or my tv shows i enjoy.
I already blocked him from any social media platforms I’m registered on or I could think of. The last thing I need right now is him fucking messaging me. But it’s like the universe hates me right now as my phone starts ringing, and I’m already full aware who it is. I feel the anger bubbling in my throat because of course I forgot to block his damn number but god, the fucking audacity of this man? My stupid ass picked up the phone and answered it…
“Cut the fucking call I dare you. I’ll come over there right now and fuck the shit out of you until that shitty attitude of yours is gone. Mark my words.” He huffed, the anger palpable in his tone. Who the fuck does he think I am? His little bitch who does as he says? I don’t think so. With one tap I ended the call. As if he’s gonna do something about it.
He can’t do shit. He’s nothing but a pussy. At least that’s what I had in mind until I heard a loud banging sound on my door, quite startling me. It hasn’t even been five minutes and this fucker is already here?
There’s no fucking way he’s out there. He’s bluffing, he has to be. The blaring of the phone’s ringtone and him banging on the door cuts my thoughts short. Slowly I accepted the call— bringing it next to my left ear…
“I’ll break this fucking door and come straight for your throat if you don’t open it within the next five seconds.” I can almost hear his teeth grit together over the phone. The repeated banging stops abruptly just the sound of the soft moving air fills the area. Silently walking towards the door and it is him, but I’ve never seen that emotion in his eyes before.
He’s looking directly at me through the eyehole with an unreadable expression. The anger in his eyes and voice are nowhere written on his face. In fact, it’s quite the opposite. He has the calmest expression painted— and that’s the most fucking terrifying thing I’ve seen in awhile.
He knows I’m there, just the door separating us. I could now feel my confidence and boldness I had seven minutes ago buried six feet under the ground. I can feel that horrifying aura around me making my hair stand. Whether I open this door or not, I’m fucked either way. I placed my warm hand on the unsettlingly cool door knob, twisting and praying I get out of this alive.
I’m pushed inside the moment I opened the door— a hand around my throat as I’m aggressively slammed to the door. My vision blacks out momentarily as my back hits the door. I suck in a deep breath. I can barely see his dark shadow through the black spots. He’s looming over me, towering over everything. Even in the dark, the look in his eyes are enough to make a girl fall on her knees. It’s like he’s staring down at me, daring me to defy him.
His hands are still around my throat, holding me against the door. I can feel his hot breath on my face, his lips inches away from mine. “You take me as a fucking joke, don’t you?” He chuckles bitterly before his head suddenly drops down, kissing me roughly. My body stiffens immediately but shamelessly give in to his soft pink lips devouring my own.
It’s not the comforting type, obviously. But the kind to make my cunt tingle as I squeeze my thighs together.
I hate myself for enjoying but who wouldn’t enjoy this? His tongue slips inside my mouth, tasting and exploring every nook, cranny and crevice. A small moan escapes my lips as I feel one of his hands drop my throat down to my thighs, roughly spreading them apart. His slender fingers linger on every inch of my thighs but not where I’m throbbing.
It’s pulsating so hard I can almost believe that he can hear it. “Do you think you deserved to be touched after pulling that shit?” He snarls lowly as he continues to ravage my mouth roughly.
This isn’t what I expected, not at all. It’s more like he’s showing me dominance by pushing me against a door, trying to crush me against it, to dominate my entire self with his actions. He throws me over his shoulder and seconds later on the bed like some ragdoll. I struggle under his hold but I guess it turns him on even more. “Do you think you’re worth for my cock?” He questions softly.
Must be entertaining watching me like this by the way his eyes are completely scanning my writing figure. He strips off my clothes and within a blink his body dips down between my thighs. His calloused fingers playing with the now soaked material of my lacey panties. My breathing quickens, my heart rate accelerating wildly.
He swiftly discards my panties. “You wanna act like a whore, you’re gonna get treated like one.” He groans before I yelp loudly, feeling my clit between his teeth. He bites teasingly, not in a hurtful manner— pulling away from my arousal, his teeth dragging my clit slowly. He takes a good look at my wet cunt. I could feel myself pulsating harder under his gaze
His long wide tongue licks my slit torturously slow, stopping before my clit. My body is just a pliable mess under him right now. His finger slowly circling my hole while he sucks on my clit again. I screamed, my fingernails digging into his shoulders as he pulls away. My breathing turns erratic, waiting for him to put his finger inside and fill the pain shaking emptiness I feel inside.
“You look so beautiful squirming underneath me, my love.” He growls hungrily before pulling away completely. He climbs on the bed, on his knees settled between my thighs again. The huge tent in his pants clearly visible to me now. “Take it off.” He commands calmly, and I lurch forward to meanwhile he discards his black t-shirt.
His throbbing cock glistening red, a size so huge I feel the doubt churning in my stomach. My eyes dart down to his cock then back to his face. His hand is on my throat once again, his tip hovering my entrance. His face lunges forward between my tits, feeling his tongue circling my nipple before his teeth clamp down on it. He enters at the same moment— I can’t differentiate the pain from the pleasure but whatever it is, it feels fucking amazing.
The length of his cock grinds against my spot. His fingers grasp my throat, blocking my airways making my head light and hazy. His pace picks up, thrusting faster and faster inside me as I grip onto his arms. His length has probably bruised my cervix, for all I care.
“Oh, fuck!” I gasped, feeling my legs slightly shaking.
“You’re fucking mine.” He growled. I could only hear a few words he was saying as his thick cock slides inside me again.
My eyes roll back unconsciously as another moan erupts from my chest. Not even seconds later— I feel hot stinging pain on my left cheek from his harsh slap, his hand grasping tighter. “Watch me, you’re gonna watch as I fuck this tight little cunt of yours. Your eyes better stay open when I make you come, understood?” I barely take in his words right now, my head is clouded— but that seemed like a satisfying response to him.
I can feel my stomach coiling harshly, as I inch closer to coming. A few moments later I feel my walls start to tighten around him. His thumb gently strokes my bud and that’s all I need— and that’s all it takes. I can feel the familiar warmth enveloping me, engulfing me whole. As my body shudders violently, my inner muscles contracting.
I pulled him in for a sloppy kiss before falling back to the mattress, completely exhausted.
“Hm, guess my girl just needed a small attitude readjustment. Maybe next time you’d listen to me.” He said before pulling out and laying beside me.
#captain john price#captain price x reader#cod mw3#cod x reader#john price#john price smut#john price x reader#captain john price x reader#captain price smut#barry paul sloane#barry sloane#smut#18+ content#18+ post#18+ only#female reader#cod modern warfare#cod mw2#taerple#all fake#captain price#obsession#possesive love
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Bad First Impression
dealer! reader x first time stoner! Choso SMUT, 18+ MDNI
Choso makes a really bad first impression on you after catching you selling to his younger brother. When he finally apologizes, he reveals he has never gotten high. You two change that. and then....ya know....
8.9k words of pure filth. I wrote this because I was horny and high and reminiscing about my dealing days. support your local drug dealer. Enjoy. ao3
content warnings- SEX, drug use, subby choso, kind of in charge reader, choso has a tongue piercing because i made it up, riding, eating pussy, a lot of talk about spit, like a lot, also a lot of talking about smell, again its nasty (im kind of on my high horse about weed, sorry, )
You met Choso a few weeks back. The air was hot and thick inside of the long ranch house. Bodies packed together, music blaring, lights of all colors and strobe speeds dancing through the space. You had been invited by the party's hosts to help “supply” the partiers with anything and everything that could keep them going all night. You didn’t deal in anything that hard, mostly weed, mushrooms, you could get acid easily if it were requested of you, occasionally you helped distribute the stray gram or two of coke for nights like this. But you tried to cap your work in hard drugs there. That night you were only holding ten or so pre rolls, and a quarter of unground flower, ready to help any first timers learn the process of smoking all the way from the beginning. You had already sold the single gram of coke you had been asked to bring with you, mostly to the wilder of the pair, who was currently grinding so hard with his boyfriend, the other host, that you were beginning to worry they’d lose their clothes soon. A few other lines had gone out earlier in the night, their users sweating away on the dance floor in front of you. You didn’t partake yourself, but you enjoyed seeing the results of your labor in their smiling, energized faces.
You kept to the side for now, sipping a warm light beer out of a flimsy solo cup. A hand tapped your shoulder and you turned to face a fresh faced girl with a cute auburn bob.
“Hey you’re the …..dealer….?” She kept her voice low when she uttered the street name of your profession
You matched her hushed whisper, “yeah. But you don’t have to whisper. Everyone here is already pretty fucked up. Anyone undercover would certainly have incriminated themselves.”
You were intending to make her laugh and put her at ease but she looked a bit panicked, smiling wryly with big wild eyes.
“I’m joking, babe.” You smiled at her, “what do you need?”
She giggled a bit, exhaling her anxiety, “I was hoping you had some more pre rolls for my friends and I?”
She gestured behind her to a pink haired guy and a taller black haired guy standing off to the side. The two of them were watching her nervously, but trying to remain cool, turning away quickly when you looked, one of them even whistling to convey his faux nonchalance. These kids are freshmen for sure.
“Sure.”, you nodded at her friends and at her before opening your bag and pulling the jar of pre rolls you kept sealed, for maximum freshness.
You picked through them briefly, “how many do y’all want? Are you guys pretty heavy smokers or still getting the hang of it?”
“We’ll-uh— I guess just whatever you smoke? I’m sure that’s good.” She shrugged, clueless.
No chance they could take what you take.
You pulled two of your lowest level strains. These kids were for sure just figuring out what they liked and you didn’t want them greening out in the middle of the party. Both because you had your own memories of over serving yourself and spending the subsequent eighteen hours truly and utterly miserable and you didn’t want to potentially cheat yourself out of three eager new customers.
“Why don’t you start with this, I’ll give you the second one as a freebie for your first time. it’s Zelato, mid strength hybrid strain, you won’t be too up but you won’t be couch-locked either. I think you guys will like it. If you do, you come back and see me, okay?”, you offered her the two pretty pink pre rolls along with your contact info and she gave you a clean crisp bill in exchange before fluttering back to her friends.
You watched the trio excitedly hurry out to the backyard, like kids on Christmas wanting to play with a shiny new toy fresh out of the box. You liked the job, you enjoyed gathering more and more knowledge about strains and terpenes and sharing what you had learned with your customers. Patients felt like a better term, but it also felt a bit self congratulatory. But it felt true, you loved how natural weed was, it made you feel more like a botanist or a healer than a pharmacist. Still helping people manage anxiety, pain, depression, or just to have a fun night and relax, but without all the side effects and the regulation.
You hoped she and her friends would call on you again. They seemed nice and like they could use someone like you. Especially if they were already experimenting with drugs and partying, it helps to have a dealer you can trust. One that isn’t just wanting to make money, but wanting to educate as well.
You were considering heading outside to smoke a joint of your own, a treat after a job well done. You would probably bail soon, the party seemed to be declining from its apex, and soon your services would no longer be needed. Before you could turn to head to the back yard you felt a strong hand clap around your shoulder. This was so different from the timid shoulder tap of your earlier customer, it almost made you laugh. You didn’t laugh, however, at the grip that stayed on your shoulder, pale knuckles clasped tight around your bone.
You followed the hand up the arm and finally turned to face your assailant. Dark, angry eyes ringed with smudgy purple eyeshadow met yours. A large black bar was tattooed across the bridge of his nose, in the dim, colored party lights you thought it almost looked red. His dark hair was messily tied up in two knots on either side of his head, you thought you could see piercings up along the sides of his ears and he was irate, staring right into your eyes, his lips were moving but you were so stunned and the music was already so loud, you couldn’t hear what he said. You found yourself opting to watch his mouth move for a moment, admiring the fullness of his lips, and the wicked snarl they held.
He was hot. Like really hot.
But who the fuck did he think he was grabbing you like this?
You came back to your senses and smacked at his wrist, “back off, dude.”
“Did you sell drugs to my little brother?” He repeated, and this time you heard him. His voice was rough and low, he didn’t release your arm, instead gripping tighter.
“I don’t know who your brother is, I don’t know who you are. Get your fucking hand off of me, asshole.” You gripped his wrist tight and tried to pull it from you. Your touch was like nothing to him, this guy was strong.
He didn’t let up, gesturing behind him with his other hand to the pink haired boy from earlier, red faced with embarrassment,“The fucking kid that you sold drugs to. He’s not even twenty and you’re trying to dope him up?”
“Dope him up? What are you, ninety? Get the fuck off of me” Finally you pulled his hand off of you and pushed him back, hard.
“He’s still a kid, he doesn’t need your shit. Stay away from him.”
He had stepped too far by insulting your craft.
“I never even spoke to your brother, his friend is the one who bought it. Take it up with them if you have a fucking problem.”
The boy, the brother you now knew, and his two friends rushed up, trying to deescalate the quickly rising situation. People around you were starting to take notice.
“Choso, come on relax, we were just experimenting a little. It’s not anything crazy! Everyone smokes weed in college!” Little Brother tried to laugh off the stakes of the situation but his trembling voice betrayed him.
The man in front of you hadn’t stopped glaring at you, he seemed to be calming down a bit, but you could practically hear his blood boiling.
“Yuji, I told you not to come here. You’re here to study, not to mess around and get high.” He barked at his younger brother, who seemed to crumple lightly.
You were seeing an opportunity for a somewhat graceful exit so you started to withdraw, “sounds like this is a family affair, so I’m gonna head. Fuck you, don’t grab random women you don’t know. Kid, your friend has my card if your cop brother decides to let up.”
With your last comment you glared back at the older brother, before turning and leaving the party, Choso seething in your wake, anger now directed at the trio instead of you.
You figured that would be the end of it. That asshole ruining your night and probably never getting another sale out of those three. It was a week later that you got a message from the girl, Nobara, who you had spoken to. She wanted to buy again and you set up a date with her to come by your place and pick up from you. She seemed apologetic in her texts, but you couldn’t blame the girl, you were just thankful she reached out again.
It wasn’t until you opened the door that you realized why she had sounded so sorry. Swinging open your front door you were met with the same asshole who had been bouncing around in your mind making you furious again and again, it was a set up.
“Fuck off.” You slammed the door in his face, locking it loudly.
He knocked before speaking through the thick wood of the door, “I’m here to apologize.”
Yeah, right.
“Don’t care. You can go.” You were already retreating from the door, pissed that not only did you have to see this clown again, but you wouldn’t be getting the money from the deal you had lined up.
“Please let me apologize. I was way out of line. Yuji asked me to come here. Yuji’s my brother, from the party, please I want to apologize.” His voice came muffled from the other side of the thick wooden front door.
He sounded…..desperate. Embarrassed, maybe even ashamed. It wasn’t okay that he grabbed you, yelling at you without even knowing what had happened, but you couldn’t help but think he sounded genuine.
Kicking yourself already, you unlocked the door and opened it. He looked pitiful; big, brown eyes that once were so angry, now turned down giving him the look of a hurt dog. You could see now, in the light, that he had dark bags under his eyes as well, he looked like he had barely slept. His hair was down instead of pulled up like the other night, it hung in loose waves, stopping right at his shoulders. The black tattoo across his face was somehow less threatening, it looked almost like a bandage. The makeup from the other night was present again but softer somehow. You should have been so mad, you should have yelled at him for putting his hands on you and demeaning your work. But seeing him like this, you couldn’t help feeling bad for him. You opened the door and he looked down at you. He was taller than you remembered, a head or so above you. You met his eyeline and leaned against your door frame, crossing your arms in an attempt to maintain your cold demeanor despite how quickly you were forgetting why you had been angry.
“I never went to college.” He blurted, your face must have betrayed your confusion because he elaborated, “I don’t really know how it’s supposed to work. I guess drugs and parties and whatever are part of it. I overreacted. I want to make sure Yuji has a future and a good one, he was the one who deserved to go to college and I didn’t want him to mess up his chance. But that’s not fair. He deserves to have the full experience and I can take that from him.” He huffed out the last part quickly.
You raised your eyebrows. His admission was wandering and full of half offerings that you could piece together to create a clear-ish picture of an older brother pushing his younger brother to try his best and remain undistracted. You could empathize with that, but it doesn’t give him a pass to put his hands on you.
“I told him not to go to that party, I know the guys who were throwing it and I don’t want them taking advantage of him. Yuji’s a really great kid and he’ll go out of his way for pretty much anyone, and I didn’t want to see him get involved with people who don’t care about him. So I went to the party to bring him home, but when I saw him and his friends smoking I figured they had already started working him over and I took it out of you instead of them. I should never have grabbed you like that, or spoken to you like that. I’m sorry.” The words spilled out of him like a boiling over pot, fast and bubbly, quickly falling back to a simmer once out.
Choso looked lighter, still hanging on anxiously at the prospect of forgiveness, but lighter after bearing part of his soul to you. His hands that had been clenched into fists at his sides now hung freely, shoulders dropping slightly with less tension pinning them back. You felt lighter too, clearly the other night had been a misstep, and he obviously felt terrible.
Now that you felt saited in your week old anger, you could finally allow yourself to acknowledge how hot he was. Your anger towards being harassed had distorted your memory of him, he was tall and toned. You would have guessed he was a swimmer or did some kind of daily work that kept him in such incredible shape. The T-shirt hanging loosely over him was cropped enough to end right at his hips, a small sliver of skin peeking out underneath. He wore a simple pair of dark jeans and boots, nearly identical to what he had been wearing at the party. In the daylight you could see he did have a few piercings in each ear, hoops through his earlobes, silver barbells riddling asymmetrically along each ear's cartilage. His nose was strong and structured, lips full and pouted. You had never seen a tattoo like his before, obstructive and obvious right across the bridge of his nose, pure blackout work.
God that had to hurt.
“Why didn’t you go to college?” You pried, resting the top of your head on the doorframe as you looked up at him.
He looked surprised but shrugged, tucking his hands into his pants pockets, “Families are….complicated, I guess. When our parents died, I wanted to be there to look out for Yuji. He was always special, if either of us deserved to have an education, he would have been the one to do something with it.”
You couldn’t help but feel moved. This guy had quite the sob story, dead parents, a younger brother he was the caretaker of, it was noble for him to have sacrificed his own aspirations to support those of his brother. You admired it. A silence settled in between the two of you, wind rustled the trees outside of your house, you could see the chill set over Choso, he had turned his gaze to the ground, jaw set, hands still in his pockets.
“You want to come inside?” You opened the door more, allowing him to see inside.
He cocked his head a bit at you. You couldn’t blame him, you had told him to fuck off the moment he got here, and now you were inviting him inside. Still confused he nodded finally and you moved aside to let him in. He stepped in tentatively, as he passed you you could smell something metallic and organic, like wood stain or metal grease. He stood awkwardly in front of your door as you closed it.
“The smell is kind of…intense in here.” He cleared his throat.
“Right, I’ve gone a little nose blind to it. I hope it doesn’t bother you too much. Would you like anything? Water, coffee, I don’t know if you like tea. I have some beer or something like that if you’re feeling like drinking at 2pm.” You offered, realizing you didn’t actually know why you had invited him inside. Sure, he had looked cold but really you didn’t want him to leave yet.
“Coffee, if you have it.” He perked up a bit.
“Always.” You walked over to your small kitchenette.
You lived in a one bedroom. It really should have been considered a studio, but technically your bedroom did have a door. The living area, entryway, and kitchen were basically all one large room. You had a brown couch along the wall next to the door facing the tv, an afghan blanket draped over the back, a low coffee table in the middle covered in various hobbies of yours: books, your bong, half done crafts. A two chair dining set sat mostly unused against the far window across from the front door, you never sat there unless you were working, you took nearly all your meals in front of the tv. A bad habit you knew you should avoid, but just couldn’t bring yourself to break.
Your bedroom was off to the left, with the bathroom attached behind the door. It was a pain to have guests over, knowing they would have to walk through your bedroom in order to use the restroom. But it was a good incentive to keep your room tidy! You were suddenly thankful your anger had fired you up to do some cleaning this week, grumbling to yourself while folding laundry, “another thing-s” and “if he fucking tries again-s” leaving you as your scrubbed the bathroom and made your bed.
Choso was still standing, watching you, hands in his pockets.
“You can sit down if you like,” you nodded towards the couch, pulling two mugs down from where they hung above your sink.
You heard the sounds of his clothes rustling, some jewelry jingling, and the creek of your old couch adjusting to new weight. You tried to stay focused on pouring the coffee, pulling some sugar packets from a small drawer beside your coffee maker.
“Black is fine for me.” He piped up from the couch, he was sitting so stiffly, hands folded in his lap, back straight, thighs rigid as if just his presence would break something.
You dressed your coffee how you liked and grabbed his black cup and brought them over to the coffee table, sitting next to him. You sipped your coffee, watching him take his time doing the same.
“So if you didn’t go to college…” you started carefully, “how do you know Geto and Gojo?”
“Geto and I used to work together. Before he went back to school. He’s not a bad guy, neither of them are.” Choso held his mug close to his lips, he was being so honest, you got the sense he struggled with hiding his feelings. Hence the temper.
“Earlier, when I said I didn’t want Yuji around them. It’s not about them. They’re fine guys. I just don’t want Yuji getting distracted.” His voice was even and firm, he really did sound like someone’s parent.
“I get that. Those two…they’re kind of their own breed. I know what you mean.” You leaned back a little on the couch, letting one leg cross over the other.
Gojo and Geto were intense, and they had a reputation for throwing wild parties and nearly getting kicked out every year. You let the camaraderie of shared secrets hang between the two of you before pressing further.
“So I take it you and Yuji had a talk about casual drug use?” You couldn’t help but smirk a little, taking a mental tally of the bong on the table, the joints rolled and packaged on your dining table, the bag of flower tucked beside your tv.
Choso let out a strangled laugh, clearly an unfamiliar sound for him, “yeah he uh…he kinda let me have it. I know I made an ass of myself, but I didn’t realize how much I had embarrassed him.”
You joined his laugh thinking of the smiley, awkward kid laying into his much more intense older brother.
Choso turned his body toward you, “look, it’s not you. It’s not even the drugs. I just don’t want him losing himself to anything before he has the chance to figure out who he is and what he wants. I don’t want him stuck with something when he’s just barely starting his life.”
You couldn’t stop the laugh that left you. Quickly it progressed to a fit of laughter. Choso was not laughing, he was watching you laugh at him. Something serious that he had shared with you, a real fear and concern of his that you were now cackling at. You could see the hurt in his face start to give way to anger again, and you came down from your fit.
“I’m sorry, I really am. I get what you’re saying, but don’t you think you’re kind of overreacting. It’s just weed, he’s not shooting up in alleyways. He’s not dedicating his life to anything, he’s just relaxing and having a little fun with his friends.”
“It’s my job to make sure he stays focused and I don’t see how smoking is going to help him.” He crossed his arms, starting to get agitated.
“Seriously? A little weed, a big cup of coffee, and you feel like you could knock out all the work you’ve been putting off for weeks. It can help you get rid of all that noise in your head that makes little tasks feel big and scary. You know what I mean?” You were a little on your soapbox now, but when he shook his head silently it dawned on you.
“You’ve never tried it?” You marveled at him. He had to be 26 or 27, and he hadn’t tried it once?
He shrugged again, “I don't really have a lot of free time, I guess?”
You gasped happily, suddenly all the anger was erased under a new beautiful light of discovery.
“Choso, you have to try it. If anyone needs it, it’s you. All that responsibility, you’ve got to be stressed out, give yourself an hour or two to get away from it. You’ll love it.” You had moved onto your knees now, energy shooting up your body.
“I don’t know…”He was smiling despite himself, hesitation in his voice but excitement leading the charge.
“ If you try it, and really try it, right now and afterwards tell me you hate it, we can forget all about this and we’ll be square and I won’t sell to Yuji and his friends anymore.” You offered already thinking about whether a joint or glass would be better for him, “but if I’m right and you like it, I get a new customer and you get completely forgiven for the other night.”
Choso looked into your winde, eager eyes and felt his reservations melt, how could he say no.
“Okay. Just a little.” He agreed, finally cracking a smile onto that stern, beautiful face.
An hour later, one coughing fit from him attempting to use a bong, and half of a joint later, you and Choso sat side by side on your couch beautifully high. Smoke hung thick in the room, his head was leaned back against the back of your couch, his ropey neck on full display, adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed again and again trying to wet his dry mouth.
You rested your head on your wrist, watching him grapple with the high for the first time. You had turned some music on, something low and vibey, just to keep up the ambience and avoid any paranoia brought on by old house noises or -god forbid- silence itself.
“Did you want some more water?” You offered, gesturing to his mostly full cup that he had kept forgetting about.
He sat up slowly, “Yeah, that sounds good.”
Leaning forward, he grabbed the cup and drank it down furiously, wayward droplets spilling out of the sides of his mouth. You watched closely as the little stream of water slipped between his lips, down the side of his chin, across the cut of his jaw, and down the column of his throat, passing the chain he wore and trailing underneath the neckline of his t-shirt. Your mind raced before you could catch it, you imagined how it would feel to slide your tongue up its wake, the cool water contrasting against his hot, flushed skin.
Quickly blinking away the fantasy, you saw he was looking back at you. He had been watching you, his dark brown eyes moving all over your face in an unreadable expression.
Could he read your mind? Could he tell how you had been imagining him?
He finally blinked and looked away, drawing in a breath and leaning forward to place the glass back on the coffee table, “Sorry.”
Before you could brush away the apology he continued.
“So how long have you been…..doing this?” he settled back down against the couch, the weed soothing any lingering nerves.
“A couple years, it's a good way to keep myself in school and avoid any debt. Plus you get to make your own hours, it's flexible.” You shrugged, “and, I don't know, I guess I like that it helps people. To have fun and relax or like, helping them just get through the day. I like that I can help people feel better.”
He looked surprised at you, and you shrugged again, feeling your face burn slightly.
“I get it's a dumb thing to say, and I know I'm really patting myself on the back here, but that's why I like it.” you pulled slightly at a loose thread on the hemline of the couch cushion underneath you, avoiding his gaze, avoiding his judgment.
“I dont think it's dumb. I know what you mean.” the sincerity in his voice was so simple, as though thinking anything else hadn't even crossed his mind, “I already feel more relaxed than I have in years. I didn’t know it was like this, so you helped me. I like that you want to help people.”
You smiled, you couldn't believe this was the same guy you had met so poorly the other night. He smiled back at you, a crooked, unpracticed smile that seemed as shocking to him as it was to you. You let the smoke linger between the two of you, both inside and outside.
“So obviously you know my job, but what is it you do?” you scooted a little closer on the couch.
He slumped a little, “a couple things, I do tattoos, piercings, that sort of thing..I’ve been working at an auto shop for the last few months, on days where I don't have appointments.”
“Do you do your own?” you asked, you had only seen the one across his bridge, you weren't sure if he had anymore.
“A few. I didn't do this one,” he gestures to his nose, “Not the one on my back, but a few others, yeah”
“Do you like it?”
“I do. I always liked to draw,” he stretched to scratch the back of his neck, “a buddy of mine let me into his shop a few years ago. I only started the car stuff when Yuji went to school, it's a good skill to know, helps me feel useful.” he shrugged, “I like working with my hands, it keeps me out of my head.”
“Are you in your head right now?” you asked, hoping being with you was relaxing him as much as the weed had.
“No.” He smiles just to himself, closing his eyes and taking a few deep breaths, enjoying how clear and simple his usually racing mind felt, “I kind of forgot it's supposed to feel like this.”
You laughed a bit, “It can be.”
He laughed too, a calming, easy chuckle.
“I’m glad you came by today, Choso.” You said softly
“Me too. I know I said Yuji asked me too, but I wanted to come and apologize. I was out of line, the over protective big brother act is so lame, I know. We’re just…all each other has.”
He suddenly was struggling to find the right words, he didn’t usually talk this much. The drugs had made him chatty, you had made him relaxed. Choso realized he hadn’t been alone with a woman in months, going on a full year. He spent nearly all of his time working, rarely went out with his few friends, and almost never went out on dates. He hadn’t even thought of being interested in a woman in weeks, choosing to rely on himself whenever the rare sexual urge did arise. He wasn’t a man without libido, but he was usually so focused—stressed out— sex just kind of lost priority. But here, sitting next to you, nerves hazy, voices soft, it was quickly climbing back up his priority ladder. He hadn’t noticed the first night how beautiful your eyes were, now they were slightly lidded and sensual as they looked over him, pupils wide and hungry. Your lips were full and shapely, a little dry from the smoke, but your wet tongue would dart out occasionally to moisten them again. His neck grew hot thinking about how soft your tongue looked. He bet you tasted so good, the lingering taste of coffee and smoke in your mouth, sliding your soft tongue against his, running your skilled hands over his body. He had watched you rolling the joint earlier, it was so routine, so ritual for you, but it was so intricate. You had clearly perfected it, nimble fingers filling, rolling, and sealing the flower inside of the pretty pink paper. Looking at them now, he wanted to put them in his mouth, to suck on them, to feel them tangle in his hair while you rode him right here on your couch.
He thought he would burst into flame when your fingertips touched the top off his hand, derailing his perverse train of thought from continuing.
“Choso?” Your voice was so soft when you said his name, it sounded right coming out of your mouth. You liked the way the letters tasted, he liked the way your tongue slipped around each sound, directly into his ear.
“Thank you, for giving me another chance.” He said finally.
Neither of you were sure when or how, but you had become very close. You could smell the sting of tea tree oil on his skin, now identifiable, and see every little crack in his glossy lips. You were staring into his bottom lip, as if summoned he drew it in, whetting it before releasing it again. He could see you watching him, he was watching you right back, he could feel your hot breath against his face, he could smell your shampoo, he could see the small coffee stain on the corner of your mouth, he wanted to be the napkin or shirt sleeve you’d use to wipe it away. Before he realized it, he was leaning closer to your lips. Your heart raced as he came closer, you weren’t sure how you had gotten here, just minutes ago the conversation was so benign and so casual, and now there was this…heat… between the two of you. You watching his mouth, him watching yours, you felt the electricity in your body ignite. The fingers that had been on the back of his hand trembled slightly as he leaned forward. He was moving so slow, being so careful to not push you. You gripped his hand tightly and pulled him closer, connecting your lips.
Your eyes were closed tightly, or else you would have seen the way his flew open before rolling back in his head. The same hand that had first grabbed you a week ago now moved up your arm and up to your jaw, pulling your lips harder against his. His kisses were hungry and desperate, yours were just as fevered as you felt his spit combine with yours.You moaned, lips parting enough for him to slip his tongue inside of your mouth. To your shock and delight you felt a small metal ball slide against your tongue, his tongue was pierced. You shivered, already thinking of how that cold metal would feel along your body, across your nipples, flicking against your clit. You thought you might faint as he pulled you over his lap.
He was faring no better, his hand pulling at you desperately, your jaw, your hair, your waist, your back, anywhere he could reach. He felt clumsy and a little pathetic, but he was too desperate to care. You were so hot, you smelled so good, your lips were so soft, he couldn't stop himself if he wanted to. When you finally did pull away, needing to catch your breath, he followed your lips eagerly, opting to kiss your chin or the underside of your jaw instead.
“Choso” you whimpered, pulling lightly at the hair at the back of his neck.
He continued kissing along your neck, moaning happily at the feeling of your nails against his nape. The sun had set outside, leaving the two of you in warm lamp light, the amber auras setting the deep brown of his eyes ablaze as he gazed up at you. Once your breath returned he moved one hand over the side of your face and pulled you in for another, softer but still passionate kiss. You relaxed into him, moving your hands over his chest, feeling the taught muscle and pleasure heated skin.
“I want you to tell me what you like.” He muttered against your lips in the form of a lover's secret, “I want to make it up to you. I want to please you.”
You felt yourself start to drip at his words, so devoid of the ego you were so familiar with in other men. A fast learner, too, his hands were carefully tracking your reactions, already finding erogenous zones that you usually had to demonstrate, tongue matching pace with yours. Kissing him deeply, tongues tangling, saliva and moans losing their origins points in the mess of shared wetness, you rocked your hips against his. He jerked up, unwillingly, a long, throaty moan leaving his lips as he threw his head back against the back of the couch, his hands on your hips gripping tighter.
“Baby….fuck”, he was getting hard so fast just from kissing you, it was embarrassing.
“You feel so big, Choso.” You rocked against him more, grinding into his erection over and over.
He blushed, the bar on his face doing nothing to hide the deep red settling across his cheeks. Feeling emboldened by the effect you had on him, you pulled your shirt off, leaving you bare chested on top of him. He was awestruck at the sight of your nearly naked body, his shock only growing when you grabbed his hands and brought them up to your breasts,squeezing them through his hands.
“Touch me here, like this.” You showed him how you liked to be squeezed and groped, all while keeping up your gyration on his lap.
He followed your lead immediately, mouth watering at how your breasts moved in his hands as you moved. He wanted to put them in his mouth, he wanted you completely naked, his own clothes felt so stiff and tight now. Choso removed his hands from your chest in a flash to quickly remove his own shirt before putting his hands on you once again, groping and squeezing the mounds freely. You moaned both at the sight of him bare and at how well he was following your directions.
“Fuck Choso… you look so good.” You marveled at him through your heavy lashes.
He was so toned, so well cultivated. His body was like that of a swimmer or a rock climber, lean and muscled, clearly focusing on mobility and functional strength above vanity. Tattoos littered his body, classic things, sigils and birds and quotes you couldn't quite read.
All in due time.
In a move surprising you he sat up, abdominals rippling, keeping one strong forearm around your waist to hold you firm against him and he brought one of your nipples into his mouth. Even the fatty flesh couldn't muffle the haughty moan that escaped him, nor could it hide the way his eyes rolled back in his head. Your hands pulled at his hair, bringing him as close as possible, letting loose mewls of pleasure at his sucking. His tongue piercing circled around your areola, teeth quickly following to bite lightly at the rising peak. His dark eyes, now almost entirely black from blown out pleasure, looked up at you. The pornographic display in front of you was enough to have you whimpering already, the feeling of him so solid and throbbing underneath your hips wasn't helping, or was it, you supposed it depends on the goal; Longevity or absolute pleasure.
Choso moved his mouth over to your other breast, repeating the same routine of circling and biting and suckling, he was completely blissed out, barely registering anything beyond the taste of your skin and the weight of your body on his. When you pulled at his hair to get him to face you again, you had to pull harder than you expected to get his attention. When you finally did, his head tipped back dramatically, a drunken smile across his wet, swollen lips.
“Take your pants off,” you whimpered breathily, “please.”
You stood up in front of him, feeling a slight ache in your hip hinges from your previous position and quickly rid yourself of your pants. He did the same, removing his belt, and kicking his shoes off before pulling his jeans off and tossing them aside. You stood in front of each other, in only your panties, him in black boxer briefs, length straining against the fabric. Breathing hard, you took each other in, it was so simple, but so sexy to be just standing before each other nearly completely naked. Not touching, not distracted by embracing hands or mouths, just taking a moment to appreciate the unguarded form of one another.
He was so taken by you, the swell of your hips, the curved lines of your silhouette, scars and lines and tattoos adorning your skin in a completely unique and deeply personal pattern. He liked the panties you were wearing, he wanted to keep them, maybe you would let him. They were a dark purple mesh fabric, his favorite color. There was no way you could have known, but it felt like fate. Your neck was starting to show little bruises from his kisses earlier, soon they would be purple too, he couldn't wait to see. Finally, he stepped toward you, his strong hands finding yours, bringing them to his body just as you had earlier. Your hands followed down the lines of his body, the muscles so hard under your touch. He moaned at your touch, chills rocking through his body, he was so reactive for you, every twitch of your fingers being amplified through his body like an electric current.
“You want to stay out here, or do I get to see your bedroom?”
“I’m a little partial to riding you right here, what do you think?” you flirted up at him, pushing on his stomach lightly, he was practically drooling.
You had chosen his exact fantasy from earlier and once again he found himself thinking that it was impossible you could have known, but it had to be fate. He kissed your lips again, the fever from earlier returning as you pushed him back down onto the couch, following him closely to keep your lips connected. Before you could move to straddle him, he gripped your hips.
“Please. Wanna taste you first, please baby, please.” He begged. He sounded so good when he begged.
You weren't one to argue with someone asking so nicely, so you did as he asked, sitting where he had been earlier, loving the feeling of the warmth he had left behind embedded in the cushion. Choso moved between your legs, his hands sliding up your thighs and pulling your panties away from your aching sex. He couldn't stop himself from bringing the panties to his face and taking in your scent, he didn't care if it made him a pervert, he loved the smell of a good, wet pussy, and yours may be the best he had ever had. Your jaw dropped at the unabashed display, catching his eye as he exhaled luxuriously.
“Fuuuuck, can I keep these?” It was like he was high all over again, one hit of you knocking him on his heels more than your highest testing strain ever could.
You nodded slowly, too shocked to speak. You didn't even care that you liked that pair, they were comfortable and sexy, nothing could compare to the thought of Choso keeping a pair of your used panties for himself.
He set them on top of his pants on the floor, before resuming his migration across the sensitive skin of your inner legs. You could feel yourself dripping onto the couch, you didn't care, you were too turned on to care about anything except him. Lying on his stomach on your couch, he was finally face to face with your bare pussy. He could feel himself starting to rut into the couch cushion, aching cock desperate for relief. Finally, with one last cautious look up at you, Choso slid his fore and middle fingers between your lower lips, separating them slightly to look right at your weeping folds. Even the light brush of his fingertips separating you had you ready to arch your back, you were so wet, his long tongue swiped up your slit, and a strangled gasp ripped itself from your throat.
One hand flew to his hair, struggling to decide if you wanted to push him away or pull him in deeper, opting to just pull. Choso was completely lost within you, your taste, your smell, the feeling of how wet you had gotten already, he wanted to drink up everything you had. He moaned into your dripping pussy as you pulled his hair harder, loud squelching and slurping sounds filled the room alongside your gasping, frantic moans of curses garbled with his name.
“You taste so good, baby,” he complimented, his round tongue piercing flicking so deliciously against your clit as he spoke, “I knew you would. Fuck, you’re too good to me.”
You could barely hear him. Too fixated on rocking your hips against his face, trying desperately to amplify the pleasure he was giving you. Choso kissed your pussy with long, flat tongued laps, his piercing circling your clit in a delicious rhythm that had you wailing. You had never been so thankful to live alone, one of your hands left his hair so you could bite hard on your knuckles, a foolish attempt to stifle your moans. Wisps of his bangs fell in his face, blocking you from his eyeline, he attempted to blow the strands out of his way, needing to see you struggle to quiet yourself. You were putting on such a beautiful show for him, panting and moaning above him, showing him exactly how good he was making you feel, he didn't want to miss a second of it. Breaking away only momentarily to brush his hair away from his face, only to have them fall back in their place, Choso huffed in frustration, his hot, irritated breath sending tingles across your slippery folds. You looked down at him, feeling him pull away briefly to pull a black hair tie from one wrist and hand it to you. Your instructions were clear as he dove back in, once again devouring you; you pulled his hair into a small bun, tying it quickly and returning your hand to cover your mouth. His own hands were clasped around your thighs, bringing them into his ears and diving in even further.
The lower half of his face, from top of nose to under his jaw, was shimmering, he was losing all sense of himself. He wanted to die between your legs, he wanted your thighs to crush him, he wanted to drown in your cum, he wanted the last sound he ever heard to be your squeaking whimpers of his name. His cock was pulsing against your couch, swollen nearly to the point of pain, with every lap it was getting harder. He didn’t think he would ever stop, your hands in his hair, nails against his neck and shoulders, your smell in his nose, your taste on his tongue, he could have stayed there forever. It wasn't until you started to pull him away by his roots that he finally came up for air again.
You shuddered as you peeled Choso away from your pussy. A thin, glistening string of spit and your arousal joined his wet lips to your sex, it was so erotic. He was panting as well, eyes wild with pleasure, damp face, swollen lips, looking to you for why you would have deprived him of his meal.
“Please, Choso, please let me fuck you,” you begged.
He protested weakly, “But I want you to--”
“Please, baby. I need you inside so badly.” You pointed out, moving your hand over the side of his face.
He pressed his cheek into your palm and nodded, sighing hard trying to catch his breath. You pulled him up to you, he followed, crawling on his hands up to your lips. Your kisses were now wet after his pleasuring you, you could taste yourself at the deepest part of his mouth you could reach. Choso ground his erection into you, sliding his length across your slick pussy and panting into your mouth. Gathering all your strength back you sat up, moving to assume the position from before. In the movements, he had finally freed his aching cock, gripping it hard at the base as you climbed over his lap. You slotted your lips against his over and over, tongues tangling, hands moving over hot, prickled skin. You rocked your hips up and down your slit, drenching him and building your anticipation. Choso pressed his forehead against yours, you could feel the sweat of his skin and the sweat of yours combining in between your skin. He angled his now dripping cock right at your entrance, you hissed as you made your way down his length. Moans escaped both of you as your tight walls sucked him in, head still pressed together, his hand bruising your waist. It had become so intimate, he filled you so entirely, pushing hard against the barrier of your cervix. You started to grind against him, moving your hips up and down, whimpering pathetically, arching your back. Your hands settled on his shoulders and stomach as you rode him faster and faster.
“Fuck, yes, you feel so good. Thank you.” Choso’s eyes were locked on your bouncing breasts. He leaned forward and caught one of your puffy nipples in his mouth again, sucking hard.
The feeling of him so deep inside of you, your increased sensitivity from him eating you out, and now his hot mouth teething and pulling at your chest had you so close already. You were almost embarrassed, but you couldn't keep yourself from bouncing more and more, grinding right up against his pelvis. Your hands moved up the back of his neck, keeping his head buried in your breasts, he switched to suck on your other nipple, moaning against your hot skin. One of his big hands squeezed at the fat of your ass, he couldn't get enough of you; he wanted to keep his hands and his mouth full of you, his cock buried inside of you forever. Your moans rose in pitch quickly, the hair at the base of his cock rubbing right against your clit. You pulled away, arching into his hand on your lower back, and humping against him even faster.
“Cho-Fuck baby, I…” You mewl out.
“Cum, please cum for me, baby. Make a mess on me please, cum on my cock, pleasepleaseplease.” he babbled, holding your hips in a bruising vice and helping you to raise and lower yourself.
He planted his feet on the ground, thrusting up to meet you halfway. You were so tight and hot, he could feel your wetness dripping down his balls, he could taste your sweat on the backs of his lips. Your cries started becoming intense and your body was shuddering against him, you could barely string together any thoughts beyond your desire to cum. FInally it all became too much, the hot pleasure that had been building all bursting out from you at once.
“Choso! I-- I--I’m cumming!” You cried against him, his thrusts under you were relentless, not stopping even as your orgasm peaked and valleyed before him.
“Fuck baby, yes. More more, please, fuck please, im--,” Choso’s own orgasm ripped through his body with nearly no warning, finally slowing his thrust, opting to press as deep as he could and dropping his head back against the couch. He moaned your name scrambled with curses and his throaty raspy groans.
Coming down from your shared high, Choso thrust up into you a few more times, shuttering at the feeling of spilling long spurts of cum inside of your hot, wet walls. You stilled your motions completely, hips aching, sweat dripping down your body, you pressed your head against his again, trying to catch your breath as quickly as possible. Choso kissed your jaw, your neck, your lips, your cheek, your temple, anywhere his lips could reach, sturdy hands massaging your hips and ass as he did. You smiled down at him, his face was tinted pink, his eyes were wet and full, he looked so fucked out, and so beautiful. The bun you had styled for him was barely hanging on,his bangs now stuck to his damp forehead. You dipped your head down and kissed him, the kiss now lazy but just as wet. Slippery mouths joining again and again as he rubbed your back. Once you felt you could move again, you moved off of his lap, his softening cock sliding out of you and flopping against his stomach. He panted in recovery once you had taken your place on the couch next to him, he pulled your legs into his lap, wanting to keep as good a hold on you as he could while still inside this bubble of intimacy you had created. He moved the back of his knuckles up and down your shin, turning his face toward you and gazing at you.
“That was…” He started, trailing off as words failed him once again.
You nodded blissfully, reaching over to grab his hand. He kissed the back of your hand.
“You’re….” this time he found his finishing words, “wow.”
You chuckled, “You too. I’m really glad you came over.”
“Me too.” he laughed a bit as well, gesturing to the half joint on the table, “You’re a bad influence on me.”
“I think you liked it.” you sat up taking the joint between your fingers and taking a lighter from the table.
You held the pink joint in between your lips, lighting it and puffing once before passing it over to Choso. He accepted and took a hit, then another, exhaling happily.
“I did. I do.” he answered finally.
You took the joint back, sitting up to his eye level as you puffed.
“I hope you don't think I’ll be giving you a discount because of this, I’m not that kind of dealer.” you joked.
A flirtatious smirk pulled at his lips, “If you had let me finish making you cum in my mouth, I think I could change your mind.”
You rolled your eyes, already feeling your pussy dampen and your nipples harden at his candor. He slid one arm around you, pulling you close and kissing your smoke warmed lips.
“Could I, maybe, come over again?” he asked against your lips, “Without needing to apologize to you for making a total ass of myself?”
Your heart squeezed, you had not yet started to worry that this was a one and done, his expert work leaving you already craving more. Everything that had happened was so unexpected, you started the day still seething from the first impression, but he had melted your icy demeanor instantly. You did want to see Choso again, you wanted him to make you feel like that again, you wanted to spoil him the way he had spoiled you. You wanted a chance to show him how good he had made you feel, and now you had the chance. You knew his situation, you knew yours, it was incredibly likely that this would be temporary, but even one more chance to share a night with him was enough for now.
I hope you guys enjoyed! As always, i did! Remember to use drugs responsibly and not give in to peer pressure, unless you think itll make people like you, then succumb. (im joking). alright bye!
-- <3 Doodle
#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#choso x reader#choso kamo#kamo choso#choso smut#stoner choso#jjk fic#jjk x reader#jjk smut#jjk choso#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen fanfic#jujutsu kaisen x reader#choso x female reader#choso kamo smut#fanfic#smut#18+ only#18+ content#sub choso
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ok that pic u reblogged of the polaroid in the wallet -- reader slips a naughty pic into dbf!joel's wallet and he doesn't find it till he's buying a round of beers for you and your dad and nearly chokes. your dad is somewhere between teasing and admonishing "have you got a secret girlfriend?" and "maybe keep that a little more hidden, I know my kid's an adult but she does not need to know about my friend's sex life" all the while you're smirking and Joel's getting redder and redder
yes yes yes !!!based off this nsfw favorite 😵💫🥵
warning(s): 18+ themes, age difference, alcohol, spanking(mention), bj(mention), dbf joel (a personal fave)
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Joel is laughing at some joke he knows he wouldn’t be laughing at if he were sober. Has to wipe the leftover foam on the corners of his lips from how eagerly he gulped down the last sip of beer waiting at the bottom of his glass.
It goes down his belly nicely—floods Joel with a subtle new sense of confidence from the buzz. Even though it still feels like there wasn’t enough alcohol in the world that’ll loosen him up enough to stare across their booth directly at the girl he’s been fucking every weekend for the past three months along with her own goddamn father, also known as his very own goddamn best friend.
Joel can one hundred percent comprehend how dirty, how sick it is to pursue her in the first place, and to let it get as far as it has. But at some point, he decides there’s no sense sinning only halfway.
If his best friend’s own baby girl, his pride and joy wants to spend her weekends bouncing in his bed and on his cock, then fuck yeah. So be it.
Whenever she gets down on her knees, she’ll suck him dry until he fucking weeps. Yeah. Grown ass man, getting his dick sucked for possibly the five hundredth time in the entirety of his life, but yet still finds himself acting this unstable, this erratic whenever she wets those lips he could kiss all night long, then mumbles something under her breath about how much she craves another taste. Making his libido uncharacteristically wild witnessing her frequent sex drives unravel. The depravity in every touch, every movement.
Like she wouldn’t breathe again unless her lips were wrapped around and sealed like a vacuum around his clothed growing bulge, clawing at his stubborn belt.
It’s gone as far as collecting a neat little album of Polaroids he himself has snapped of her. Whether she poses for him or is too blissfully lost in the moment, he’ll tease her with a taunt of ’say cheese’ before she’s hearing that click and blinks from the quick flash. Bites down her lower lip while he ripped the photograph out right when it printed. She’ll turn her head back and smile towards him with a wicked, devious grin that might as well say I know exactly what this does to you. What I’ve done to you.
His photo collection has grown since they started this arrangement. Half the photos consisted of him showing off the lewd aftermath while his cum oozed between her legs, or the stinging red handprints he’s left on the globes of her ass. Might even be one or two risky ones with their faces captured clear as day, kissing with passion after another round devouring her in his sheets.
Their album of dirty secrets always stays buried under his bed, locked up and secluded from the world. Only coming out from hiding whenever Joel felt like doing a little reminiscing of the times they’ve shared together late in bed at night. Ending him with sticky fingers, a guilty conscience, and his twitchy cock finally giving him a fucking break. It does things to him that no blue pill ever could.
There’s enough spank bank material and physical evidence of all his sins to grant him a one way ticket straight to hell, and Joel has accepted that.
No one else but her knew where the pictures were stored, nor of their mere existence. Each photograph was stashed together in some old vintage tin that looked like it could belong at a grandma’s home to store more innocent contents. Preferably not dirty Polaroid shots of every one of Joel’s fantasies he’s lived out inside his best friend’s daughter.
She was poison, disguised like a pretty piece of candy just dangling right in front of him. Pulls him in like he’s a golden retriever begging its owner on a goddamn leash.
Fuck, it’s time he really stop thinking about that.
He’d been doing a somewhat decent job these past few months so far. Keeping her out of his periphery whenever he spent some time quality guy time with her father in their home. All the while, images of her naked frame above him (on the nights he’d beg her to get on top) feel like they’ve been tattooed to part of his brain, and he nearly has to beg his dick to forget she even exists in the vicinity.
But after getting roped up in their family plans for this Saturday night (against his will), he won’t get to feel those nails drag down his back while she wails underneath him tonight. No—instead of that, he gets to guzzle down as much beer as his gut could handle in his forties to make it through the evening, sandwiched next to both of them at the same fucking time. Fuck.
“Next round’s on me,” Joel announced to the table, hoping the leftover self pity and humiliation will wither away with the more he drank. He gets up from their booth and idly pats the butt pocket of his jeans to feel for his wallet, oblivious as to why her face seems to light up all the sudden in the corner of his eye in some sort of amusement. Like she’s in on some joke that he sure as hell isn’t. Story of his life.
Her eyes dance across his figure, checking him out head to toe the way she does when they’re alone shedding each of their clothes off. How much it makes him long to punish her for doing all of this to him, making him strip down his pre-existing morals of being a good man and a decent friend just to pin her down and make her cum and take the bait.
She slides her empty glass over and simply says, “I’ll take another Cosmo.”
Her dad chimes in, hardly ungluing his eyes from the game glaring on the TV. “Get a side of some fries for us too, Miller. Don’t you know anything about wining and dining?”
Joel sighed and rolls his eyes, choosing to ignore the ridiculous level of irony hidden between the lines in his friend’s jab. Yeah actually, I do. It’s working out great on your daughter. She’ll probably invite herself back to my place tonight, if you aren’t too careful.
“Just come up and order yourselves, for Christ sake.”
The snickering from her dad doesn’t let up as they follow Joel up to the counter. On the way, she pokes him with her fingers in the middle of his back. Knowing there’s likely some scarring still engraved in his skin from her nails last weekend. He shivers just feeling her make even the smallest, shortest contact in public like this. Next to her father like this.
Joel knows his ass is on the line if God forbid they get caught. She had every ounce of power and freedom to turn him to mush at the drop of a goddamn hat, whether she was doing something as innocent and carefree as smiling or bending over.
“One Cosmo, two whiskey’s, neat, and a side of fries.”
He grabs his wallet and flips it open, sliding his ID out of the front pocket (even if he’s to the point of graying) and flashed it towards the bartender. He gives him his total, and before Joel can pay, the other shoe drops.
“Whoa whoa whoa, dude. Who’s the unlucky lady?” her dad laughs, all the sudden pointing downwards at Joel’s wallet in his hands.
His eyes travel down to whatever her dad was so flabbergasted by. It barely takes a split second long of a glance for him realize that he is so very fucked.
And as if he thinks Joel didn’t hear him the first time, didn’t just unknowingly traumatize himself by pointing at a photo of his own daughter’s back while she’s lying in Joel’s bed, and he goes and pesters him some more. “She some secret girlfriend, or what?”
The frog in his throat betrays him, choking on nothing but air while he’s riddled with utter humiliation as he stubbornly yanks his card out to hurry up and pay. Fumbles when he finally gets his receipt and quickly stashed it back. If only his pockets went deep enough.
He looks over at her, baffled by her mischeviously guilty silence, finding how much she’s amused by this, by the risk of being found out.
Joel goes for what he knows.
Deny, deny, deny.
Trying to scoff and laugh at the same time to make it more convincing, he stuffs his receipt in his pockets. “What? No. No, there’s no secret anything, Jesus….”
“What’s wrong, Joel? You feeling okay?“
Right when he thinks he has a sliver of control in the situation, the culprit looks at him with her shit eating grin, knowing he’s suffered at the hands of one of her master plans to get him fucked. Other than lifting her skirt up a little too high at family dinners once in a while, this has to be the most dangerous prank by far.
“Good. Great, actually. Looking forward to that drink.”
“I bet you are.”
Once they’ve been seated and served there’s a noticeably pregnant silence that Joel will overthink about and regret allowing it to have happen for his remaining lifetime.
Her dad attempts to fill the silence that he didn’t understand, luckily blind to any context of what the Polaroid actually was. And God forbid didn’t recognize the panties she owned and wore, or her distinguishable hair splayed out down her naked back.
He thinks he’s being quiet enough to block it out from his daughter’s ears when he whispers, “Look, man, you’re embarrassed. It’s private, I get it. For s’long as I’ve known you you’ve barely ever talked about women. S’just weird to see a naked chick in your wallet outta the blue, you know?”
He downs his whiskey right as it reaches their table, doesn’t let it sit untouched for even a second—as it warms his chest and tingles in his belly, he sees that not-so-innocent face smiling behind her glass.
“Uh-huh. Must be pretty weird.”
And for the cherry on top of all the mortification he’d experienced tonight, right when he thinks it’s come to an end, that he gets a goddamn break from the close calls—her dad opens his mouth to haunt him yet again.
“Maybe keep your little trophies a little more hidden next time. I know my kid’s an adult and all, but she does not need to know about my buddy’s sex life.”
-
thank you for the love and kindness and support:)it means more than you know
masterlist + buy me a ko-fi
#joel miller smut#joel miller fanfic#joel miller x reader#joel miller x f!reader#joel x reader#pedro pascal#the last of us#joel miller#tlou fanfic#the last of us smut#dbf joel miller#joel miller/reader#ask#anon
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How They ...
A/N ::: I probably should have done these in different order (bedtime first) but oh well. I'm in a very HC headspace right now. I hope you guys enjoy. Horrific typos? lmk. Thanks!
C/W ::: Oral sex (nothing TOO graphic though - I think)
MDNI Under The Cut, Please
⊰ Go down on you
⊰ Draken ::: Is either slow and methodical or will devour you.
⊰ Mitsuya ::: Prefers to take his time and do it "correctly" (hint: "correctly" is how you taught him through your non-verbal cues. God help me, I'm so in love with him)
⊰ Mikey ::: For real, whatever, however, wherever, whenever he wants. But you always walk crawl away with newborn deer legs.
⊰ Baji ::: Sloppy. Sloppy sloppy sloppy and it's the most marvelous sound in the world, you think. It's so loud and wet and squelchy (shut up, it is a real word) that you don't know if you're getting off to the sensation of him rockin' your world, suckin' on your clit and tongue-fucking you or the lapping noises he's making.
⊰ Chifuyu ::: Prim and proper until you're about to cum. Then he has fun with it. Gets a little sloppy but that's only because Baji told him that you like it so much so he tries it out on his girl and "I'll be damned," he'll say to Baji, "she came all over my face, man!"
⊰ Hanma ::: Wild card. Sometimes the two of you will be laying in bed watching tv and he'll shimmy up over to you and push your shorts/panties aside and lazily finger and lick you. Sometimes he will throw your dress or skirt over your head and eat you like a man on death row. Sometimes he will eat you so thoroughly that you're sure you'll be sensitive for a week. But most of the time you can count on it being from behind. As I've said in the past, Hanma likes you face down, ass up.
⊰ Kisaki ::: Is surprisingly good at this. But he won't give you what you want right away. He likes to take his time with you; to tease you. On a few occasions he's gotten crazy with it (I'm talkin' glasses-fogging-up-and-crooked-on-his-pretty-face crazy). You're just so damn happy when he looks up at you and starts crawling backwards that you don't even care how he does it ... just that he does.
⊱ Get Ready for Bed With You
⊱ Draken ::: Makes sure you don't need anything else before he lowers his towering body down next to you and tells you "Yes, I made sure the doors are locked. But baby, I don't know why you're afraid. I'm here." He smiles at how you flipped the covers back for him and slinks down onto the mattress, scooting over as close to you as possible. He sleeps on his back mostly so you can rest your head on his chest, under the warmth and safety of his left arm.
⊱ Mistuya ::: Likes to brush his teeth at the same time you do and will use the other end of the towel you're using to dry his face off (at the same time). Follows you around to make sure things are locked up and turned off. Puts his hand on your lower back as you climb over the bed to your side and pull the covers back. Likes to sleep with his right arm and right leg draped over you in the winter (the extra heat and closeness never hurt anyone, right?). In the summer lays on his back, sprawled out, like he's in the beginning phases of making a snow angel.
⊱ Mikey ::: Likes to watch you do your routine before bed. He likes it even more when you're feeling playful and smear a little of your nighttime lotion on his face. He will joke about how he's really noticing a change in the elasticity and evenness of the skin on his face. You both have always kind of gone to bed at the same time/together, unless his boys are over. In which case he will come climbing into bed later and that's ok with you because baby boy is a bed/blanket/pillow hog. He 100% of the time always has to have his cheek pressed to your chest. Says he likes how soft and warm your boobs are and that the sound of your heartbeat is the most pretty lullaby he's ever heard. *Still shares his favorite blanket with you.*
⊱ Baji ::: Purposely waits for you to finish brushing your hair so he can start to brush his hair with your hairbrush. Then he will come pouting and stomping into the bedroom where you're already settled and comfy, whining about how his arms are tired from fighting and can you please brush his hair (you do it better anyway, something about less split ends). He has literally fallen asleep on top of you. And no, it's not like that. He just loves being super close to you and if that means behaving like a cat, so be it. Also really likes how it feels when you're sleeping on him (anywhere/any part of his body. his legs, his chest, his shoulder. He loves that you trust him enough to be unconscious around him - that's never happened with anyone before. I mean, you can't entirely blame them - no offense, Baji!)
⊱ Chifuyu ::: He will use the time that he's waiting for you to clear out of the bathroom to feed the cats that hang around your place (he knows you like to have a little time to yourself at the very end of the day to unwind in peace and quiet). But once that's out of the way, he likes to walk around with you and talk about your days/what you have planned for tomorrow. He will ask if you packed your lunch for work for the next day and if you haven't he will ask if you want him to help you or if you'd like him to bring you something when he closes the pet shop on his lunch break. "Maybe we can have lunch together?" His green eyes and sweet smile are so potent that you can never say no to him (you even offer to buy when you two meet up the next day at the place you both agree on - damn, he's good0). Once the two of you are all snuggled in bed, he will ultimately change his mind about how he is laying and roll over, throw his arm over your waist, kiss your shoulder and tell you he loves you and he hopes you have sweet dreams.
⊱ Hanma ::: He doesn't really have any routine at bedtime other than one more smoke, pissing and making sure you're coming in "sometime soon." He likes to hold you once you're both in bed but I think he likes to be held a lot, too. For all of his bravado, there's definitely a part of him that wants to be wanted for more than a pair of fists. When he's deep in sleep, he thrashes around like a drowning drunkard. Is a human furnace. Likes to have fanS (yes, plural) pointed at him from all different directions.
⊱ Kisaki ::: Has a more in depth bedtime routine than even you or your girlfriends combined. He showers every night. And don't count on or even try to join him unless he gives you "the look." He takes cold showers and is in and out in less than 5 minutes. It's just to wash the day off of him before climbing into bed - which we all know, is a sacred space - and such spaces should be kept tidy. He has a glass of water on his nightstand and a case for his glasses to rest in while he isn't wearing them. Prefers to keep to himself mostly unless he knows you're having a bad time of things or he just wants to cuddle with you. It's ok, though, because his hands and feet get freakishly cold (regardless of the season) and if he were to touch you in the night, it would startle the hell out of you.
@viburnt @darkstarlight82 @kazutora-kurokawa @arlerts-angel @southside-otaku @katkitkats
#tokyo revengers#tokyo revengers fluff#tokyo revengers smut#kisaki smut#kisaki fluff#draken smut#draken fluff#chifuyu smut#chifuyu fluff#mikey smut#baji fluff#baji smut#tokrev#tokyo rev#tokyo rev smut#tokyo rev x reader#hanma smut#hanma fluff#mitsuya smut#mitsuya fluff
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hi hi hi!!! congratulations on one year!! you've accomplished so much and i'm so very happy for you! you deserve all the love and more 🫶🏻💞
as always, i have to leave a little dad!steve request, because who would i be if i didn't? lol. anyway, since you are celebrating your one year, i was hoping maybe we could get something like dad!steve and mom!reader celebrating their one year as parents, aka giving their lil girl her first birthday party? i can just imagine aunt robbie and uncle eddie spoiling steve's baby girl almost as much as he does 🥹
congrats again, bug! love you so so much 🫶🏻
- @honeysuckleharringtons 🍯💛
ty angel!! and ty for keeping dad!steve alive on this blog hahah — you and steve struggle to cope when your baby turns one year old (mom!reader, fluff, 1.7k)
bug's one year celebration ♡
Steve rises that morning before you do. He couldn’t say he woke up, really, ‘cause he didn’t sleep at all. Maybe an hour or more, but that’s being generous. Between decorating the house after you put the baby down (his soon-to-be one-year-old, that is) and stressing all night about tomorrow, tomorrow finally came. Tomorrow is now, and his baby’s a whole year older.
He worried and worried and worried, and the time passed anyway.
You rouse with a cat-like stretch. You look at the clock first, 7:26 a.m., and then over at the boy beside you. He’s already looking at you, the creep. His features are gently swollen from the weight of his middling slumber — pretty pink smile soft and slightly crooked.
The attention makes you cower as your eyes squeeze shut again. No one should be looked at so fondly so early in the morning.
“Do you know what day it is?” Steve croons to you.
He props his wild head on his fist and smooths a free hand up your stomach, bare from where your shirt had risen. Your skin is as warm and as soft as it ever was, and his chest stings because Nellie used to be in there. He agonized nine months over for her arrival, and now she’s here — in the bedroom down the hall — and one year old already.
You scoff a faint laugh, weighed down with exhaustion. Of course, you know what day it is, but you humor him anyway. “No, Steve. What day is it?”
“We’ve been parents for a whole entire year,” he whispers, voice faraway with disbelief.
“Oh. How could I forget?” you joke, giggling into the kiss he gives you.
He pulls away with a gentle smack and smiles softly down at you. “Remember when we thought we wouldn’t make it?”
“That first night,” you answer with a sigh, heavy eyes fluttering shut again. “After we brought her home, and she just… wouldn’t stop crying…”
“Yeah, I know the one…” Steve hasn’t been able to forget it, really. He doesn’t think he ever will, or if he even wants to. It was the first day out of the hospital and the very first time he felt like a parent, when it was just him and you and a colicky baby. It felt like the weight of the world was on his shoulders.
The stress of the long-gone moment still stings.
“I thought the world was gonna end,” you confess.
Steve’s wide hand gives your bare side a reassuring squeeze. “And look at you now. A total pro.”
“Hush.”
“You are.”
“Only ‘cause I’m copying you,” you argue, equal parts sincere and deflecting. Your wild head tilts against the pillow, and you bring a heavy hand to his jaw. Your palm settles along his stubble with a playful roughness. “I’m glad I shacked up with the best dad ever and not some other schmuck.”
Steve’s grin widens until his honey eyes crinkle at the edges.
“I’m blushin’, baby,” he teases lowly, then leans down to kiss you again.
It’s a mixture of subtle morning breath and the coffee he’d had an hour or more ago. It’s a chaste peck first, to gain your footing in the early morning, and then a more intentional second one. Then he kisses you a third time, a much more languid thing. His exhaled sigh brushes your cupid’s bow when he melts into you.
You pull back from him (as much as it hurts you) before he can give you a fourth.
“We need to start getting ready,” you tell him. “People will be here soon.”
His features scrunch together, just like Nellie’s does right before she cries. Steve buries his face into your shoulder with a whine that rivals your baby’s. “No— I don’t want people to be here soon.”
Your laugh matches the sunrise. “You planned the party, Steve.”
“Yeah, but when people come over, it means the party’s started,” he rambles, muffled into your neck. “And when the party’s started, it means Nellie’s officially a year old.”
Your hands smooth up and down the length of his pale, freckled back. “Well, technically, she won’t be a year old until later tonight, so… You’ve still got a couple hours with a baby.”
He sniffles, and you can’t tell if he’s joking or not.
“Steve, I’m just kidding,” you coo with a soft giggle. “She’s still a baby! She’s always gonna be our baby.”
“Yeah, except now she’s a baby that can walk,” he whines. “And eventually, she’ll be a baby that can talk— and then she’ll be in college, and then she’ll be married—”
“Well, at this rate, you should probably start preparing for her to move out,” you joke drily. He sniffles again. You cave. “Sorry…”’
—————
You languish in the grass a couple hours later, over an old quilt Steve pulled from the top of your closet.
Energy seems to seep from your pores, ebbing with the setting sun. You’ve spent the better part of your day running after Nellie and tending to guests. Now, all you really want is some peace and quiet, a shower, and a good cry.
Steve sits just beside you, leaning back on his arms while you lay on your stomach. Both of you keep a vigilant eye on your baby girl — watching while she gets all the attention she deserves and smiling to yourselves because she’s the most loved baby in the universe.
“Whatcha thinkin’ about?” Steve asks after a few minutes of silence. Well, not silence, exactly. The radio’s playing distantly, and the chatter hasn’t stopped since Dustin arrived (first, of course, and a whole hour early).
“It’s stressing me out that there’s food on a blanket,” you murmur in response, chin bobbing against your folded arms.
Steve laughs through the chips in his mouth. “Well, that’s the point of a picnic, baby.”
“I know,” you sigh and get distracted again. “I can’t believe how popular our baby is.”
“Well, I mean, she is our daughter, so… It kinda checks out.”
“Shut up.”
“Look at Eddie— What an idiot.” Steve chuckles as he watches the wild-haired boy drive around the backyard in a bright pink Barbie Jeep. It was a present for Nellie, of course, but she can hardly walk, let alone drive the damn thing.
Eddie cruises around in it for her, lanky limbs barely fitting inside. It whirs as he drives it back and forth over the patio.
Nellie’s having more fun watching him than she would be driving it herself, you think. She squeals with delight in Joyce’s arms, smiling a big, toothless smile and clapping (as best she can with chubby baby hands) every time Eddie reappears from behind her.
“How’s our baby so pretty?” you wonder quietly to yourself. “Like, how did we do that?”
Steve ponders the question with a deep huff. He turns to lie next to you on his back, then grimaces when the ground does little to cushion his aching spine. A harsh reminder that he’s not sixteen anymore.
“Well… Her mom is the most beautiful woman on the planet, and her dad’s pretty alright, so… One plus one equals two, I guess.”
You squint. “Don’t flirt with me, Harrington.”
“Can’t help it,” he shrugs with a boyish, lopsided grin. “You’re too pretty. I have to love on you, or I’ll die.”
You start to make a joke then — about how Little Eleanor definitely got all her dramatics from her father. But then Steve leans in to kiss you, and you lose it. You can taste the birthday cake and Coca-Cola on his breath as he nears you. You forget how to form words in your mouth.
“Wait,” you murmur, pulling back before he can kiss you. You raise a hand to swipe away the crumbs sticking to the corner of his mouth. “Okay. Now you can kiss me.”
You never need to tell him twice. His lips meet the very corner of yours until he can realign himself for a more direct, proper peck to your mouth.
“Hey, hey, hey!” you hear Hopper scold from ahead of you.
The two of you pull away from each other with a soft smack and find the man walking towards you. He’s got crumbs in his mustache and a cheekful of the hotdog he holds in his hand. He’s got his work boots on, too, paired with a pink and green tropical button-up. The coolest shirt he owns, you figure, especially for Nellie.
His sharp features are screwed with disgust. “This is a kid’s party. Keep your hands to yourselves.”
You laugh because the only real kid here is Nellie. And she’s far too obsessed with Eddie to care about anything else.
“Sorry, Hop,” Steve mumbles even though he doesn’t really mean it. He’s just not in the business of smart-mouthing the chief.
You are, though. And it’s one of the million reasons why he loves you so damn much.
You peer up at Hopper, squinting one eye to shield your gaze from the golden sun. “You know we have a baby together, right?” you wonder in a monotone.
He takes another too big bit of the hotdog and shrugs. “Well, yeah. She’s, like, the best thing ever— Obviously, I know that.”
“So then you also know that we kinda made her by not keeping our hands to ourselves.”
Steve chokes back a laugh when Hopper gets so suddenly stern. His features harden as he points a firm finger your way. “Don’t,” he murmurs in a feeble warning, then decides to leave well enough alone. He walks back towards the bustling party, beelining for Joyce and Nellie because he’s in desperate need of a purer cleanse.
“Holy shit…” Steve sighs when his laughter dies down.
“What?”
“Nothing,” he hums to himself, a soft smile on his lips. “I just love you.”
Your nose scrunches. “Ew.”
“Like, I get to be in love with you forever. How cool is that?”
His boyish musing makes your chest sparkle. “I’m glad you’re coping well,” you tease with a sigh as you lean over to lay on him. Your head rests against his chest. You can hear his heartbeat there, slow and firm. You exhale again, with content this time. “‘Cause you’re stuck with me, Harrington. For life.”
You feel a chuckle rumble in his chest. “You make it sound like it’s prison.”
“It’s not?” you joke.
“No, baby. It’s heaven. It’s better than heaven,” he tells you, then gets immediately distracted. “Wait— Like that song— Ooh, baby do you know what that’s worth—”
“Steve!” you giggle at his offkey crooning.
“—We’ll make heaven a place on earth!”
#published by bug#steve harrington x reader#stranger things x reader#steve harrington#steve harrington x y/n#steve harrington x you#stranger things#stranger things imagine#steve harrington imagine#stranger things fic#stranger things fanfiction#stranger things fanfic#steve harrington fanfiction#steve harrington fic#steve harrington fanfic#st drabbles#stevie drabble#event: bug turns one
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As You Wish, Chapter 1
Summary: When arriving at Camp Silver Star, Abby Floyd was anticipating a summer of adventure with an ocean separating her from the three people she loved most: her mom, her Uncle Bob and her Aunt Natasha. But after a run in with Charlie Seresin, an extremely familiar looking and irritating camper in a different cabin, her summer plans take a turn that neither girl ever could have expected.
Trigger Warnings: reader's children are described as being blond with green eyes because genetics are wild and Jake's genes are strong, reader is canonically Bob's sister, reader is described as having a tattoo and goes by Buttercup, verbal arguing, almost physical fighting, alcohol use, references to death and loss and mourning
Jake’s House, a few months after the Uranium Mission
When she had been invited to Miramar to visit her older brother, Robert Floyd, she had been given two ground rules. Follow all of Robby’s instructions so as to not get into trouble with the locals or the top brass. And do not fall for Hangman’s charms.
The first rule was easy. She was a rule follower by nature, allowing herself to be ruled by her brain and her built in sense of logic, so following Robby’s lead was easy. And she’d assumed that the second rule would be easy as well. Anyone named Hangman was not someone she was interested in getting to know, especially since her brother had told her almost a year ago that the man earned the nickname by always leaving his wingmen hanging as he chased the glory for himself. Though Robby had seemed to relax his personal views of Hangman after their latest top secret mission, he remained firm that he wasn’t going to allow his baby sister to become one of his co-worker’s (dare he say friend’s) conquests.
And yet, here she was, three months after she was supposed to leave to go back to New York, cuddled up on Hangman’s couch as they settled in for another movie night. So much for letting her brain rule and following her innate logic.
Her brain was mush and her logic had gone out the window the second he’d asked her to stay, and she knew it wouldn’t be coming back so long as he was tracing his long fingers up and down the length of her spine as she laid on his chest, her head slowly rising and falling as they watched her all time favourite movie.
She sighed happily as she felt his plush lips press into her hairline.
“What’re you thinkin’ about?” he whispered as two characters sword fought on screen.
“How happy I am,” she murmured into his chest. “And how lucky. I’m lucky I found you, lucky my job is letting me work remote, lucky to feel so happy.”
Jake pulled her closer, tangling their legs together beneath the light throw blanket that had been tossed over them. “I’m happy too,” he whispered, watching as the main character on screen was now struggling to fight a giant. “Even though I have zero idea what is happening in this movie,” he added with a chuckle.
“That’s because you’ve been too busy trying to cop a feel to pay attention to a seminal classic of our generation.”
“Can you blame me? You’re literally on top of me. No guy in his right mind is going to pass up that kind of opportunity.”
She giggled. “Well, try to focus because my favourite part is coming up.”
Jake pouted but agreed, watching as the man in black outwitted the smaller man, grabbed the princess, and took off running.
“This is your favourite part?” he chuckled as the man in black mocked the princess’s pain.
“Would you hush?” she clapped a hand over his mouth, then shrieked as he licked her palm. “You’re disgusting!” she giggled, wiping her hand down his shirt. “Ooh! This is it!” She turned her attention completely to the screen as the princess shoved her captor down a large hill.
“As…you…wish!” the man called as he tumbled head over heels, the princess following straight after him.
“There had to be an easier way to follow him down the hill,” Jake joked.
“Jake!” she whined, craning her head to look at him from her position against his chest. “She doesn’t care! Buttercup doesn’t feel any pain. Her Westley is alive, so she’s so happy she could fly! Now stop ruining it!”
“Alright, I’m sorry. Hey…” he pressed his lips to her forehead. “I’m sorry. Thank you for sharing this with me, Buttercup.”
She blinked, her head cocking to the side in an inquisitive display that made him melt. “Buttercup?”
“Yeah. You’re brave and clever and loyal, definitely stubborn, and I have no doubt that you’d push someone down a hill for insulting you if you knew you could get away with it. Plus…” he pressed a sweet kiss to her lips this time, grinning as she gasped lightly. “I’d definitely fight a determined Hispanic swordfighter, a giant, and a conniving Wallace Shawn to keep you safe.”
She giggled, resting her head back on his chest. “Buttercup…I kinda like that.”
Camp Silver Star, Now
Abby quickly settled into her cabin, a cozy wooden building with four sets of bunk beds and large windows that opened onto the woods that surrounded them. Her cabinmates were nice enough, not judging her for her slight British accent, though there were some questions as to why a child with family in the American military had a British accent. However, by the end of the first day as the eight girls shared stories and jokes about their lives. They had all been impressed when they found out that her mum was a famous author, most of the girls recognizing her mother’s penname from their own bookshelves back home, and even more impressed when they found out her uncle and aunt had flown with the near infamous Dagger Squad. Most of the girls in her cabin had family in the Navy, so they were at least semi familiar with stories of the defunct but elite squad of fighter pilots. Her mum had been right, in a way. Being around other children who had family in the military (whether they were currently serving or retired, like her aunt and uncle) was a bonding experience. Plus, it helped that she genuinely liked the other girls. They were friendly and two of them, her bunkmate Isabelle and her friend Max, even wanted to be fighter pilots, just like her.
Abby could feel the sting of homesickness fade with every day that passed. She filed things away in her brain, stories that she wanted to share with her mum when she was able to call her on Phone Home Fridays, activities she wanted to continue once she was back home, jokes she wanted to tell her aunt to see if she could earn a rare smile. She even planned on begging Penny, the owner of the camp, for some of her recipes to take home, because the food was absolutely delicious.
Abby sniffed as the scent of maple and salt hit her nose as the door to the dining cabin was thrown open and her troop strolled inside for breakfast on the first Friday of her visit to camp. Pancakes were apparently a Friday morning tradition at Camp Silver Star, and Abby could feel herself salivating at the very thought. She was about to make a beeline for the breakfast counter when she heard a voice calling her name.
“Abby!” Max pouted. “My braid came undone. Can you help?”
Abby rolled her eyes fondly. Max had extremely curly hair and always complained about it getting in her eyes when they were doing activities, so Abby had started braiding it for her.
“Yes,” she called back, eyeing the long line of campers jealously as she turned her back on the table laden with all her breakfast favourites, just missing a young camper rushing behind her to bypass the line and go straight to the woman manning the tongs.
“Hey Amelia, does the fruit salad have cantaloupe in it? Because I’m allergic,” Charlie stated, holding out her bowl of fruit salad. She’d been so distracted by the delicious smells and the juicy gossip she was sharing with her friends that she had totally missed that very crucial detail.
“Oh shoot! Yeah, it does. Sorry, Charlie. I’ll talk to the cooks about leaving cantaloupe out of the fruit salad. You and another camper are allergic, so that really can’t be happening.”
“Thanks, Amelia. I appreciate it.”
“Yeah, and I’ll appreciate not getting yelled at by your dad for letting you go into anaphylactic shock,” Amelia winked and Charlie grinned. She’d known Amelia just as long as she’d known Penny, given that Amelia was Penny’s daughter and she’d been present for all visits and memorials for her stepdad.
“Don’t worry. Your mom still scares him, so he wouldn’t yell. Too much.”
Amelia rolled her eyes playfully. “Thank god for small miracles.”
Charlie waved and walked over to her cabin’s table, not paying any attention to the camper who had just sidled up to the breakfast table.
“Good morning,” Abby chirped happily as Amelia turned away from her to grab a plate. “I have a quick question about your fruit salad, if you don’t mind.”
“Sure, kiddo. What’s up?”
“Would there happen to be cantaloupe in your fruit salad? I’m unfortunately allergic.”
Amelia’s brow furrowed as she turned back to face the camper. “I already to — oh!” She blinked as though she was trying to erase a sudden case of double vision. “Oh. A-Abigail, right?” When the camper nodded at her, she giggled nervously. “Yeah. Abigail. Hi. Hi. I’m—I’m Amelia. W-we know about your allergy. You a-and another student—I mean—camper have the same allergy. I…I’m gonna go talk to the cooks right now and make sure they know not to put any more cantaloupe in the fruit salad. Okay?” Amelia rambled, backing up and almost bumping into a cook bringing out a hot tray of bacon. “Oops! Sorry, Ralph! Can you take over for me for a quick second? Thank you!”
Abby was left scratching her head, wondering why the breakfast lady was so jumpy, and particularly curious as to why she could be heard running towards the main office screaming, “MOM!”
Abby and her cabin had spent the morning in the flight simulator, which had only served to cement her desire to be a Navy aviator like her aunt and uncle. She couldn’t wait until later that afternoon, when she could use the computers to video chat with her family back home and tell them all about how she had almost made it to the end of the program without crashing once. Until then, her cabin, Cabin 4, was scheduled with Cabin 7 for horseback riding. And while Abby was an accomplished English rider, she would much rather be joining the queue at the computer building. But, since she couldn’t skip the activity, she lined up with the rest of her cabinmates along the wooden fence that sectioned off the riding ring.
A girl inside the ring was just finishing up her turn on a small course of jumps that had been set up at the opposite end of the ring.
“Way to go, Charlie!” the riding instructor called as the girl, riding a large palomino, trotted back to the entrance of the ring.
“No sweat,” the girl, Charlie, shrugged as she dismounted with ease and patted the horse’s neck. “Champ’s a sweetheart, and that course is nothing compared to the one back home.”
The instructor, Karen, rolled her eyes playfully. “Yes, we shouldn’t expect anything less from the ranch girl from Texas. Would anyone like to try to top Charlie’s time?” she called, looking down the line at the rest of the campers.
“I’ll give it a go,” Abby volunteered, adjusting her helmet and leading her horse, Rosita, towards the gate. “I’m a pretty decent rider.”
“I’m not sure ‘pretty decent’ is going to cut it, but suit yourself,” Charlie retorted as she passed.
“Charlie, be nice!” Karen barked, her eyes scanning over Rosita’s tack to make sure it was properly fitted.
“Sorry, Karen,” Charlie replied in a tone that suggested to Abby that the apology was less than sincere.
Abby rolled her eyes and mounted up, patting Rosita’s chestnut hide as she settled into the saddle.
“Don’t let Charlie get to you, okay?” Karen murmured, tightening the girth of Rosita’s saddle. “She’s a nice kid, just a little…”
“Ostentatious?”
Karen stifled a smile. “You all set?”
Abby nodded, gathering her reins and clicking her tongue. “I’ve got this.”
Charlie smirked as the other camper started off at a trot, but that smirk slowly faded as she and the horse started going through the course with ease, clearing the jumps and obstacles with greater ease than she and Champ had. She was left to scoff as the pair cleared the last jump with ease and cantered back to the starting line, the kids from Cabin 4 cheering her on as Karen announced that she had beat her time by one and a half seconds.
“It’s alright, Charlie. You’ll get her next time,” assured Ryann, her bunkmate, as they led their horses back to the stables to groom them and bed them down for the night.
“It’s probably because she was riding English style,” Charlie grumped. “Everyone knows its easier to jump in English style.”
“That’s not true and you know it,” a posh voice sounded behind them, and Charlie rolled her eyes.
“How would you know? Have you ever tried to ride Western?” Charlie challenged, stepping closer. The girl didn’t back down, clipping her horse onto the tether outside the stall and stepping up to her.
“No. Have you ever tried riding English?”
“No, but—”
“Then you can’t claim that one is easier than the other, can you?”
The other girls from Cabin 4 laughed, and Charlie felt her blood boil. She hated being laughed at. It happened enough at her school back home and she absolutely despised it.
“Yeah, well English riders are usually stuck up rich kids anyway. How much did your mommy and daddy spend to teach you how to ride like that?” she snapped, feeling her face flush with anger and envy.
Abby felt tears pool in her eyes. “I…I mean…”
“Why are the horses just standing around, not being groomed?” Karen questioned as she strolled in from the office, taking in the stiffness between the two girls and the heaviness in the air.
“I…it’s nothing, Karen,” Abby murmured, taking her helmet off and pulling her hair out of its low bun.
“Yeah. We’re fine,” Charlie added on, removing her helmet and allowing her blond hair to cascade over her shoulders, ignoring the gasp of surprise from those around her.
Charlie turned to put her helmet on the shelf at the same time as Abby, their eyes locking with hurt and anger glimmering beneath the matching green seas.
Abby’s eyes blinked in shock and Charlie schooled her features.
“What are you looking at?” she muttered.
“I…I mean, we…”
“You two are practically identical!” Ryann screeched, the horses nickering in surprise.
“You’re dreaming, Ry,” Charlie stepped around her and started brushing down Champ.
“I agree with her,” Abby stated, stepping up to Champ’s other side and meeting her eyes. “If you take away a few cosmetic differences, we look the exact same.”
Charlie shook her head. “You’re imagining things. Or you need to get your eyes checked.”
Abby scoffed and crossed her arms. “I have perfect vision, I’ll have you know. And I’m not imagining things.”
“Well, I think you are!” Charlie dug her heels in. “There’s no way I look like someone as snooty as you!”
Abby crossed her arms. “Well, I don’t particularly want to look like a cornfed hick either, but at least I’m not delusional and denying the situation.”
“What did you just call me?”
“Girls, girls!” Karen appeared at Champ’s head, soothing the now nervous horse. “Take a walk. Both of you. Cool off before you call home. And I don’t want to hear any more negative talk like that. Not in my stables.”
An echo of “yes Karen” bounced off the walls as the girls glared at each other and stalked off with their cabinmates, each set of girls trying to calm down the green eyed blond in their midst.
“Ugh, dad! But you promised!”
Charlie glared at the pixelated likeness of her father’s face. Normally, she would’ve been thrilled to see her dad. He had a kind face that let Charlie know that, even when he was mad or tired or frustrated, he loved her, the crow’s feet at his eyes and the dimples in his cheeks appearing every time he smiled at her. They appeared now as he grinned at her through the computer screen.
“I know I did. But I’m still saying no. And that’s because the only complaint I’ve heard is about this girl,” Jake Seresin chuckled. “Otherwise, you seem to be having a great time. And I know Penny is taking good care of you.”
“Well, yeah…” Charlie muttered. “But she called me a cornfed hick!” She purposefully left out the argument they had about possibly looking alike, because Charlie knew it was not the truth.
“Only after you called her snooty, punk,” Jake shook his head. “I know I’ve taught you not to dish it out if you can’t take it.”
“I know, but…but she’s so infuriating!” Charlie moaned as she sat back in her seat.
“You want me to come down there and handle it, Charlie?” a voice called as a moustachioed man in a Hawaiian shirt crowded into the screen.
“You are not going out there to handle an 11-year-old, dude,” another man appeared on the call.
“It’s fine, Uncle Roo,” Charlie giggled. “Listen to Uncle Javy.”
“Yeah, Uncle Roo, listen to Uncle Javy and get out of here,” Jake parroted, glaring at his best friend.
“Hey, don’t put words in my mouth,” Javy ‘Coyote’ Machado countered, leaning further into view. “You’ve just got to find something you’re better at than her and beat her at it. That’ll teach her.”
“Yeah!” Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw crowed, leaning in on the other side, completely blocking Jake from view. “I’m sure you could hustle her in darts! You and your dad have been beating us since you were big enough to handle sharp objects!”
“Alright, alright, enough!” Jake shoved his way through the two other men and glared at them. “Would you mind giving me a moment alone with my daughter?”
Charlie giggled as her uncles blinked at her, then at her dad, before muttering about rudeness and walking away, waving at her as they clicked the door shut in the distance.
“Sorry about those animals,” Jake joked but Charlie shook her head.
“No, it’s okay. I missed them too.”
“Ah. I see how it is,” he pouted.
“Oh, c’mon, dad. You know I miss you most.”
Jake smiled softly, gazing softly at his little girl. “Yeah, I miss you most too.” He sighed. “Listen, kiddo, I…I wanted to tell you something. I—”
“Alright, girls!” Penny called. “Time to switch and let the next batch of girls have their turn.
“Maybe you can tell me next week?” Charlie suggested as she prepared to log off, her heart panging at the thought of not seeing her dad for another week, but the lack of communication was supposed to simulate not always being able to talk to your family while you’re overseas. Plus, it made things equitable for those who had parents in the military, because they wouldn’t have to hear their cabinmates talking about frequent talks with their folks.
Jake nodded with a sigh. “Yeah, I guess so. Hey, punk?”
“Yeah, dad?”
He grinned. “I love you lots.”
“I love you lots too,” she murmured, feeling herself choke up at the pang of homesickness she felt. “I’ll see you next week, okay?”
“Okay, kiddo. Bye.”
Charlie blinked at the black screen before slowly standing up and walking away, only pausing to glare at Abby as she strolled by and sat in the same cubicle she had just been using.
Her uncles were right. When the time came, she would whoop that prissy girl’s butt in darts, just like her daddy had taught her.
“But mum!” Her Aunt Natasha smothered a chuckle at Abby’s affronted tone. “You and Uncle Bob promised!”
Her mother sighed, pressing her fingers into her eyelids. “I know, love. I’m sorry. But having a small spat with another camper doesn’t mean your uncle can drop everything and come to get you. I’m sorry.”
“But…but…”
“What’s this about, kiddo?” Natasha ‘Phoenix’ Trace asked from her position next to Abby’s mother. “I know you, you don’t quit on something just because some little bit-ter girl gave you grief.”
Abby giggled weakly at her aunt’s poor attempt at covering the near curse.
“What is it, darling?” her mum leaned closer, close enough for Abby to make out the small buttercup flower tattoo on her clavicle where it peeked out from her neckline. She had seen that tattoo her entire life and it always brought her comfort. She knew from experience that it was the reason her aunt and uncle always called her mum Buttercup.
“She said that I was prissy and snooty and that my mommy and daddy must’ve paid a lot of money for me to be able to ride like I do,” she almost whispered, but she knew from the pain in her mother’s eyes that she had heard her.
“Oh, baby, I…”
“Yeah, no, I was right the first time. What a little bit—”
“Nat!” Buttercup cried, whipping her head around to stare at her best friend. “Not helping!”
“What? You want me to just sit here while someone insults our girl?”
“Yes, I want you to sit there and let me handle it!”
Nat rolled her eyes and stood, half disappearing from frame. “Well, in that case, I’m just gonna go. Bye, kiddo.”
“Bye Auntie Nat,” Abby called at her aunt’s retreating back.
Buttercup sighed again, rubbing her eyes. “Sorry, baby. I know that talking about your father is a sensitive subject—”
“Yes, because I don’t know anything about him!”
“I…I know,” Buttercup murmured, leaning in closer to the screen. “And I know we should’ve had a conversation about him a long time ago, but…”
Abby’s shoulders heaved and she leaned in close too. “I know. I’m sorry, mum.”
Buttercup smiled softly. “My sweet girl…you have nothing to be sorry about. I…I’ll tell you what. We’ll have a girl’s day when you get back and we’ll have that conversation.”
“You promise?”
“I swear.”
“Thank you, mum.”
Buttercup smiled at her through the screen. “You shouldn’t have to thank me for having a much-needed conversation with my growing daughter. And in the meantime, please just ignore this girl. I’m afraid that engaging in more competition with this girl will escalate the situation beyond either of your control.”
“But mum!”
“Just ignore her. She’s probably taking something wrong in her life out on you.”
“So, you want me to be the bigger person?”
“I know it’s not fair, but yes. I know you have the same competitive spirit as your uncle and Nat, and that you need that competitive spirit to make it at the Naval Academy and at Top Gun, but right now you’re just a kid. So, please, just let it go.”
“Mum, I—”
“Alright, girls! Say goodbye and let the next group have a chance!” Penny called.
“Abby, promise me.”
“Bye mum! Love you!”
Buttercup sighed before smiling. “I love you too, sweetheart. Take care.”
Abby smiled, feeling a small pang of loneliness as she looked at her mother’s kind face. “I’ll see you soon, mum,” she murmured before closing the tab and sighing. She had been feeling so much better about being away from home, but seeing her mother’s face made the longing for home rush back. Home was her mom, her uncle, and her Aunt Nat, where everyone understood her and nobody questioned her small, odd family. Home was not Camp Silver Star, where a girl who looked just like her gave her attitude and made her think about a huge part of her life that was missing.
“Sorry, mum,” she whispered to herself. She loved her mom and often took her advice, but not this time. She could not in good conscience just ignore this girl. That’s not how she operated. So she would find a way to put this Charlie girl in her place, whether her mother liked it or not.
While the other campers were making their phone calls home, the kids who had already made their calls or were waiting to call got to hang out in the games cabin. It was full of a mix of old and new arcade games, an air hockey table, board games, a couple of pool tables, and a dart board.
When Abby arrived at the games cabin, she immediately spotted Charlie and her friends standing at the dart board and an idea sparked in Abby’s brain. She was decent at darts, her aunt and uncle had made sure of it, and she was good at bluffing. Perhaps this was something that she could beat Charlie at.
Rolling her shoulders back, she strode over to the small group of girls and cleared her throat.
“I’ll play winner,” she declared, staring Charlie down.
The other blond smirked and nodded. “Done deal,” she chuckled and threw a dart, not daring to break eye contact.
Abby turned at the sound of cheers and gasps, and saw the dart sticking directly in the bullseye, her heart sinking at the sight. She was, in fact, decent at darts, but clearly Charlie was more than decent. This would be more difficult than she thought.
“And that—” Charlie let the dart fly and smirked in triumph. “Is game.”
Abby sighed but something occurred to her as Charlie’s friends surrounded her for a congratulatory hug.
“I guess that makes us tied!” she called over the din, causing it to silence immediately as Charlie turned to her.
“What are you talking about? I beat you.”
“Yeah,” Abby agreed. “At darts. But I beat you in the riding ring. So that makes us tied.”
Charlie rolled her eyes. “That doesn’t count. I beat you fair and square.”
“If you insist…I suppose that means you’re too scared to face me at billiards.”
Charlie froze, a scowl marring her eerily familiar features. “I’m not scared.”
“Prove it,” Abby stepped up to her, gesturing to one of the empty pool tables. “Winner can even break.”
“Fine,” Charlie muttered through gritted teeth. At least she knew she was a champ at pool too. She had been playing with her dad and uncles since she was tall enough to reach the tabletop. However, she gulped as she watched Abby expertly rack the balls and chalk her cue, maybe it wouldn’t be that easy.
“Eight ball, corner pocket!” Abby crowed as the ball sunk neatly into the net.
Charlie groaned, leaning on her pool cue. They had been pretty evenly matched up until one of Charlie’s stripes had ricocheted wrong and sunk one of Abby’s solids. After that, Abby had proceeded to sink every one of her balls neatly, ending with the solid black eight ball. Charlie had never seen anything like it, not even when her dad was playing against Javy and Rooster.
Abby approached her, her hand outstretched with a small, taunting grin gracing her face. “Good match. I believe that makes us 2-1.”
Charlie smacked her hand away as a bolt of frustration tore through her. “I told you! Your little stunt while riding didn’t count! Besides, even if it did count, Rosita did all the hard work anyway!”
“Then I suppose it was Champ who did all the hard work while you were riding the course!”
“That’s not true and you know it! I’ve spent my entire life on the back of a horse! You’re only a half decent rider because your mommy and daddy paid for you to be.”
Abby fought back the tears that almost always automatically pooled in her eyes at the mention of her parents. “Stop. Saying. That. You don’t know the first thing about me!”
“Or. What? You gonna sic your mommy and daddy on me?”
The two girls were nose to nose, their friends and fellow campers huddled around them in a circle, anxious to see exactly what was going to happen.
“Ahh!” Abby’s cry was sharp and painfilled as she pushed Charlie away from her, but Charlie had been working on her father’s ranch since before she could walk and she wasn’t so easily swayed.
“That’s it!” She grabbed for Abby, but before she could make contact, she felt a firm hand grip her arm and looked up to see Penny standing above them, holding the two of them apart as her nostrils flared.
“I will not tolerate any fighting in this camp,” she stated stonily, glaring between Charlie and Abby. “And from what I’ve heard, the two of you have been at each other’s throats all day.”
“W-what are you going to do with us?” Abby murmured, her eyes heavy with fear.
“Send us home?” Charlie tacked on hopefully.
Penny sighed heavily. “No. The two of you will be assisting with extra chores around the camp instead of participating in group activities for two weeks. And…you will be removed from your cabins and placed into a smaller cabin. Together.”
Charlie gasped. “You can’t—”
“And you will be there for the rest of your stay. Together. Amelia will come get you for your meals and escort you to the dining hall, where you will be allowed to sit with your friends. Other than that, you will be living together, cleaning together, and working together until you two can figure out how to get along.”
“Mrs. Mitchell—”
“Aunt Penny—”
“My decision is final. You have ten minutes to grab all your belongings and to meet me by the trail head. Am I clear?”
“Yes, Mrs. Mitchell.”
“Yes, Aunt Penny.”
“Good. You are dismissed.”
Penny sighed as she sat at her desk, her small office only lit by her desk lamp and the faint hint of moonlight trickling in from the window. It had been a long day. Between Amelia hunting her down and explaining that there were a pair of doppelgängers at camp, Karen’s report about a verbal altercation during riding practice, and one of her younger campers running to tell her about two girls getting into an argument in the games cabin, she knew she deserved the small glass of whiskey she was currently sipping on. The campers were safe, the security systems were set, and Amelia had opted to sleep close to the smaller cabin where her two problem campers were now housed, claiming that she’d be able to step in before any blood was shed if the two girls went at it again.
Penny sighed again, rolling her neck before looking at the photo frame she had on her desk.
“I don’t know, Mav,” she whispered to the portrait of her late husband, dressed in his military whites as he waited for her to come down the aisle. “Maybe inviting Charlie and Abby here at the same time was a mistake.” She laughed quietly before taking another sip of her drink. “I know, I know. You would’ve wanted me to invite them the second I opened this place, but I wanted to have a year or two experience before I tried to do…this.” She shook her head. “They’re just so angry at each other. And at themselves. God, they remind me so much of Amelia after I split from her dad. But at least she was old enough to understand. And I wasn’t hiding a whole sibling from her either.” Penny drained her glass and leaned in close to the picture. “I know. You’re right. It’s my duty to try to fix this…the way you wanted to before you died.” Penny sighed shakily and wiped her eyes. “I miss you, Mav. I know you would’ve known how to bring Charlie and Abby together if you were here. I’ll do my best. I love you.”
With that, Penny pressed a light kiss to the glass of the frame, thousands of lip prints providing proof of her nightly ritual, and stood to stretch before heading off to bed, her head swimming with different ideas on how to bring the two girls together.
—————————-
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#jake seresin x reader#jake seresin#top gun maverick#top gun fanfiction#parent trap au#jake hangman seresin#glen powell#jake hangman fic#as you wish fic
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hi! I saw your post about soft/fluff things and I was wondering what you would think about steve with a girl who is accidentally touched starved so Steve, could be bestfriend!steve who has feelings or boyfriend!steve, always makes it a point to hold her face when he's talking to her because she just melts? I just love your Steve (and your remus and peter)
this is the cutest! tysm for ur req i hope it's okay ♡
You're holding a small glass under the faucet. The water quickly overflows. Steve's in the middle of a train of thought babble and doesn't notice at first, his back to the sink basin, aimless chatter echoing through his empty kitchen.
"So, I try to tell the guy. It's an adult section. I can see that you're an adult but the system needs to know that I saw an ID or I could lose my job, and I'm not gonna risk that so you can watch Redhead Babes Gone Wild in secrecy, and he…Y/N?"
"I'm listening," you say.
Steve pulls your hand from under the flow. The water is freezing cold, your fingers like ice cubes. He sets the glass aside and dries your hands off, trying to keep the small line of concern from his brows as he does.
You're perturbingly quiet. A knot works its way into Steve's chest as he massages your cold hands in his, attempting to start his story from where he left off but drawing blanks, worried by your distracted state.
"You wouldn't lose your job for him, so he…?" you work out like the words are hard to say.
He smiles gratefully, bringing his hand to your face as he talks to give you that little bit of grounding you need.
"He gets furious, starts shouting at me, and tries to drag Robs into the whole thing. Keith comes out of the office-"
"He was actually there?" you ask, voice weak.
Steve grins brilliantly.
"He was actually there. He comes out and point blank calls this guy a pervert, which makes him even more mad." He strokes the length of your cheek mindlessly, eyes on yours as they start to shutter. "Keith says he'll call the police and the guy runs off."
"Anti-climatic," you murmur.
Steve squeezes your cheek gently. "Not quite. He runs off, but what does he take with him?"
"What?" you ask, smiling like you know.
"Redhead Babes Gone Wild."
You're relaxing under his hand. He likes this part, reassured in knowing he can give you some relief and settle your agitation, your despondency with a loving touch. He brings the other hand up and cradles your face, taking advantage of your closed eyes to ogle the lines of your face, your small wrinkles, your fine hairs, your dots and your skin and your lashes where they kiss your under eye delicately.
"You didn't get it back?" you murmur.
"No. Worse, some guy comes in the next day requesting it. We had to tell him to come back next week."
Your head drops slowly until his hand is sandwiched between your shoulder and your soft cheek.
He rubs a sweeping line over your other cheek, too affectionate, not that you'd ever deny it.
"The redheads are gone," you mumble. "Not sure about wild."
"Gone hostage," he furthers. It's an awful attempt at a joke and still you laugh, hands twitching at your sides. "You… do you want a hug?"
"Please," you whisper.
He pushes his hand from where it's been leveraged to cup the back of your neck and the other joins it, wrists crossing, the heat of your chest flush with his. You wrap your arms around his back and sigh so quietly he almost misses it.
"Babes gone forever," he says as he pushes his chin over your head. "Gone fishing. Gone camping. Babes gone kidnapping? Kidnapped. The babes are gone, whatever way you look at it."
He laughs so loudly his throat burns, pulling back to pat your face. "Rest in peace, redhead babes."
Your laughter plants a seed of heat in his chest, and your attempt to get closer waters it. He's a vestibule of blossoming fondness as you needle your arms around him tight enough to make him ache and say, "Babes gone but not forgotten."
"Rest in peace," you agree. Steve doesn't mean to brag, but the affection definitely makes a difference, your smile a deitific sight.
#steve harrington x y/n#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington#steve harrington x you#steve harrington x gn!reader#steve harrington x reader fluff#steve harrington blurb#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington drabble#stranger things fic#stranger things x reader#stranger things 4#stranger things
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Well, hello.
A couple months ago one silly woman (me) decided that it’s time for creativity to take a hold of her and let something cool into this world.
And that’s how I decided to give birth to…a The Amazing Devil blanket.
Or I might have dreamed it whilst being feverish. Who knows.
It’s been three months of stitching, embroidering, sewing, unmaking the mistakes, cursing, saying ‘waahheeey’ at the end of the complete step, cursing again and enjoying the hell out of the process of something being made into the realness.
It is literally the embodiment of me. I love it and hate it equally. It has got my favourite quotes from the songs. Yes, that’s me — your favourite girl with maelstrom of lyrics instead of a brain. It also has got some of my blood somewhere along the stitches (did i do it on purpose to please the fae gods aka Joey and Madeleine? you’ll never know. hashtag blood magic.)
I wanted to get it done for the Ruin Appreciation Week (though it contains lyrics from all albums) so that was me last week because it was very FAR from being done:
I’m posting the bigger picture + close ups of smaller details and songs’ lyrics. Please feel free to reach out if you want to see a better close up or just to pat me on the head.
I’m posting a video too. It’s silly so enjoey. (ha! see what I did here. that was a typing accident. it’s 1am now. forgive me my jokes.)
warning: the video include some probably offensive actions to the professional seamstresses. i’m only a humble ignorant person who decided to sew for the first time in her life. i do hope you’ll like it.
references used:
the central embroidery: TAD’s old picture from some posters back in the love run era + some sage and forget-me-nots
top right and left bottom corners: pictures of joey and madeleine
songs: secret worlds, the calling, inkpot gods, drinking song for the socially anxious, chords, farewell wanderlust, not yet/love run (reprise), that unwanted animal, battle cries, elsa’s song, wild blue yonder
UPD: A few of you have been asking about the quotes I used on my blanket/quilt and why I chose them so here I am:
If you ask me for my fire, just watch me burn — you know what, I recently started to interpret this line in a positive way? It was a recent thing I understood about myself. I always thought I was good at working/doing things well in the long run, when you have to do it patiently and for years but in my journey of self-discovery I realized that in reality I’m much better as a sprinter — someone who does an incredible job while being under the vast amount of pressure and when you need to do it in a restricted period of time; I will give all of myself to this project/work, every bit of passion I have, every bit of patience. So yeah. If you ask me for my fire — just watch me burn. But then I’ll hibernate for a month.
Can’t you hear it howling? — OKAY HANDS DOWN PROBABLY MY FAVOURITE LYRICS/MELODY SECTION FROM THE WHOLE RUIN ALBUM. Even not the part that is sung by Madeleine, but the back voices Joey’s harmonies sing in the final chorus at 4:28 and till the end. OOOOH WHY SO GOOD.
If I don’t make it back from where i’ve gone just know I loved you all along — this is such a beautiful closing of the song. also such a tormenting thought. i love it.
Such endless blue — I’ve always been drawn to the dark blue colours, especially when I paint. I always run out of the blue watercolour because contrary to this song, it’s not endless :D I’m manifesting an abyss of blue watercolour for myself here lol
You say the words so often but I barely know the meaning — okay so Elsa’ Song is primarily pretty heartbreaking right? The more heartbreaking part being that it is sung as a lullaby. Who didn’t have that moment when the meaning of the words you’re saying slips through your fingers just because you said them too often? Who didn’t have that sad awakening moment of losing trust in a person just because they always promised something and never did it?
After summers of fasting I feel hunger at last — I’ve been thinking about tattooing this quote for quite a while now. It reminds me of my depressive state which very often returned to me in summer and every time it slowly creeped away, I felt the hunger for life in the early autumn. Every time felt like an eternity.
Is nought but fumble-falls and guns and tumbleweeds, love, run — my favourite quote from the superior use of the English language that is that section in Love Run. I am in love with it. All the phonetic twirls makes me shiver sometimes.
Well, hello my hollow Holofernes — ALLITERATION SUPREMACY!!
I’ll sing silence and ask my glass of wine for guidance — i love to sit at home alone and stare into my glass. it doesn’t answer though. what about it. and again — to sing silence? OXYMORONS GIVE ME THEM
Go tell me how we fucked you up and oh my god, it’s so unfair — ah. the hardship of parenting/teaching. I was there, I remember it all too well.
Let’s us waltz for the dead — the oxymoronic style of this line IS JUST A CHEF’S KISS. WALTZ? VERY SOPHISTICATED THING? FOR THE DEAD? NOT THAT PLEASANT TYPE OF A THING? mister batey let me boop you affectionately on the nose you are so clever.
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Daryl Dixon FanFic-Rough Hands
Relationship: Daryl x Reader
POV: First person
Where: Alexandria
When: First night
———————————————————————
For years I barley knew him, I respected him but he’s distant to everyone, I cant help but notice the scars on his back, and the fleeting look whenever family’s mention, for years Ive known Daryl but I know nothing about him nobody does. Daryls shy in a way, hiding his emotions and showing no sign of fear. I never thought to much about him. Until all I could do was think about him; Miss him and his touch, crave it even, but nobody could know… he couldn’t know. I had a school girl crush on Daryl Dixon.
I thought it would go away, just pent up energy in the apocalypse with no were to go, but it never did.
Life wasn’t about living but about surviving, Then we got to Alexandria.
Covered in blood and dirt we crawled are way into this surreal town frozen in the past, a past I barley knew.
Together on the cold hard floor of the living room huddled around like wild animals in a pack. That was the first night in Alexandria for our little group.
But not for me I chose to sleep next to him, where I felt most safe, especially in an unfamiliar place. I rolled on my side where I found you staring up at the ceiling not even trying to sleep.
He reeked covered in dirt and blood, his greasy long hair resting on his face covering those beautiful blue tired eyes.
He turned looking at me, the eye contact made me shutter in the dark.
“Like what you see” Daryl said.
“Always do” I smirked.
We always joked, but I never got to know him, which I desperately wanted.
“I don’t trust this, I want to but I’m scared”
“I’ll protect you, always do” He mimicked jokingly.
Wether it was sleep deprivation, dehydration, or a sudden boldness I felt covered by darkness; I reached out and laid my hand on his bicep.
“I feel safer when your around Daryl”
And I rested my eyes trying to look like id dazed off. I felt his arm twitch under my fingertips and after a few minutes past he rested his hand over mine.
His fingertips were rough and wide, yet I would take his touch over any smooth gentle hands.
I barley slept just laid there with my eyes closed feeling his arm, and his hand on mine. My thoughts raced all night. Maybe I could do far more than survive.
I woke up late in the afternoon, it felt like I hadn’t slept in months and truthfully I really hadn’t. Everyone was gone from the house as far as I could see. There was a pleasurable familiar feeling, which I deduced was the smell of a freshly brewed pot of coffee.
As I approached the kitchen I saw Daryl, showered and smelling of mint and sandalwood. His hair tucked behind his ears with the exception of a strand peeling over his eye like always, the one with the scar.
“Im sorry do I know you.” I said sarcastically.
“Whats that saying, early bird gets the worm? You would not be getting any worms today ma’am.” He said with an unfamiliar smile on his face, while holding out a cup of coffee.
His voice was rough and deep, with his withered accent. It was like hearing my favorite song play after years.
“Well I why would I need to when I have you to make me coffee.” I said, accepting the coffee with a warm smile.
We both sat on the living room floor leaning against the wall, sipping coffee glancing over at each-other; and occasionally making small talk.
You leaned your head up against the wall facing him. “Why do you always have this here?” I said wiping the strand of hair behind his ear.
He looked deep into my eyes glancing at my lips.
“Just how it falls I guess.” He mumbled with a shrug. “Who would wanna see my ugly ass face anyway.”
“Me, your face is beautiful, don’t even get me started on your eyes.” I smirked innocently.
“Don’t play with me girl.” His voice said in a deep grumble, looking away.
“Im not” I said sincere “not about this.” You said looking over at him as you pit your hand in his.
He slowly turned dazzling me with those dark blue eyes. He turned his hand with mine still on top of his and slid his fingers slowly between mine.
“Ok.” He said scanning my face, taking time to stop at my lips in his gaze.
He slid his other hand up my arm turning into me slowly as he made his way and stopped at my cheekbone pulling me in closer. I didn’t resist and ran my fingers through his hair shuffling onto him.
We kissed slow and passionately. Pulling my lip as he made his way carefully out of each kiss. It was warm and I felt a rush of excitement and joy. One kiss and already I was falling in love with him. He softly caressed my cheek with his rough hands and I could have died happily the next day as long as this was how I spent my last hours.
#daryl dixon#daryl dixon smut#daryl dixon fluff#twd fanfiction#twdfanfic#daryl#daryl / reader#daryl dixon x reader#first person pov#the walking dead#fanfiction#smut#story#netflix#popular fanfic
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♡.˚ ୨୧ ｡˚ ♡.˚ wild - m.s
summary: you leave your boyfriend to go on a hiking trip. you- on a hiking trip. this leads to matt thinking you're gonna leave him.
warnings/notes: lowercase intended, matt's pov (i suck at first person so i apologize), guys this is literally the scene from "gilmore girls: a year in the life", NOT PROOF READ, cursing
wc: 1.6k
*this story is told from matt's pov :)*
5 years. thats how long ive been with my girl, yn, and i wouldnt have it any other way. life is great, fabulous even! im incredibly happy. i thought she was too- that was until sunday afternoon.
i sit in the kitchen, signing cards for our 6 million merch. i let out a small smile just thinking about the milestone. yn walks in wearing her puffer coat. she plops a large backpack next to her on the floor. i look up from the table. things have been weird these last few days, to say the least. she was becoming.. distant? it's just weird because "distant" is never a word i'd use to describe our relationship. but we have never ever felt so apart.
"hey." i take off my headphones, looking up and down at her attire and the bag by her side. she takes in a deep breath. "im going away." she states bluntly. she bites her lip gently, clearly waiting for my response.
i stare directly at her while her eyes wander off in the distance. blinking before dryly chuckling, i respond,“whaddya mean? you’re leaving?” i drop my sharpie onto the table, turning my body to give her my full attention.
"i'll be gone a while. probably like a couple of weeks." she stands nervously, twiddling with her fingers like a child being scolded though matt feels as if he's the kid. a look of concern draws itself over my face. "baby, what is this? what's going on?" she doesn't answer for a moment. instead she takes in a breath.
“i’m gonna do Wild.” she states like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. i almost want to laugh. this has got to be a joke. “w- huh?” i sputter, rubbing my temples. she repeats, "Wild." i pause, thinking. then it hits me, "ohh you mean the movie?"
"the book. the movie took liberties, the book is pure, so.. book." she nods, finally deciding to drop her hands at her side. i guess my face still has that weird confused look because she emphasizes, "i'm going to the place. the pacific crest trail. and i'm going to walk it." i snort, even though i tried not to. "you mean hike?" i correct and she simply rolls her eyes. "are you serious? that trail's 2,000 miles long!" i stand up while using my hands to speak.
she grins, "i'm not doing the whole thing, silly."
i began to list all the factors of nature, her muttering an “i know” after every one. “bu- it's a trail“ “i know” “it's outdoors.. in nature.” “i know” “there's dirt, bugs, animals!” “mosquitoes, rivers” "i know" "you have to carry your own backpack! by yourself." "i know"
it pauses while i think of even more things she won't like. but then i remember, "you haveta sleep on the ground. the dirty ground, sweetheart." "i know." "you cook your own food" "i know" "you boil your own water" "i know" "you get your water from a stream" "i know" "that's in nature!"
"i know, matt. i know what's out there." she sadly smiles, beginning to fidget with her fingers again. "wow.. so. you're still gonna go? you're not joking?" my voice cracks. she shakes her head. i sigh and sit back down to bounce my leg under the table. "why?"
tears well up in her eyes. she's holding them from falling, standing her ground. "because.. i need to. it's now or never." she whispers, concluding the conversation before grabbing her backpack and walking out, leaving me alone and bewildered.
"god, who cares?!" i snap at my younger triplet, chris. it's been a week without my yn and i'm dyin. i dunno what's going on and i'm sick of it- sick of everything. chris sits down next to me, snatching my phone that was previously in my hands and throwing it on the couch. i groan, dropping my head onto the table. "jesus, man, what's going on?" he nudges my shoulder.
"it's yn. she's doin' wild."
"the movie or the book?" chris answers and i scoff. "what?? they're two different experiences." he tries to reason, but i just give it up. "the book. yknow, i jus-- i can't understand why. she's doing wild. she just left and bought some hiking boots."
"cute hiking boots?" chris chuckles. that cracks a smile out of me. "nah, real hiking boots. that you can hike in. and she did this after, uh... well. it's uh been.. weird. i mean, my girl, y/n l/n decides to hike the pacific crest trail to figure some things out, what the fuck?"
it's quiet for seconds. chris' mouth forms a straight line. but i already know what he's thinking. after a defeated sigh, he mutters, "it sounds like she's leaving you."
two days after my conversation with chris, i stand in the kitchen feeding yn's puppy. i stroke his fluffy head with a sad frown on my face until i hear the door open. i stand up immediately with my eyes widened. there she is. yn walks in carrying her heavy backpack on one shoulder. "what're you doing here?" i ask, surprised. i take a step towards her but she lifts her free hand up in defense. "don't come near me!"
with my eyes still wide, i let out a "why?" and she walks further into the kitchen. "because.. i smell. every part of me smells. i didn't even hike! and i stink. i showered, even. and i came back home," she explains while dropping her backpack into one of the chairs. "i haven't even been near a cactus for hours and apparently all you have to do is simply think about hiking and boom, you smell."
i cut in, "you didn't hike?"
she shakes her head, not even looking disappointed. "nope, they wouldn't let me. i tried. i forgot things and.. whatever. i didn't hike. but the thing isss.!! i didn't go to hike. well, i did, but i just needed to figure something out. and i figured it out! which is great because-" she rambles and my eyes drift to the floor, knowing what's to come. i try to brace myself but i can't. i can't let her go.
she's still going on.. babbling about coffee and hills, but i couldn't take it anymore. "stop!" i yell out, holding both of my hands up. now it's her turn to be surprised as her eyes go big. "i know what you're doing, yn."
"you do?" she asks, sounding happy for some fucking reason.
"you're going to leave me! and i just have to tell you, it's a big mistake." i put it out there and her face drops. she shakes her head from side to side, her mouth opening. "wait- matt-" i interrupt her. "i've seen the signs, i've seen them coming for months. your bolting signs- yknow the distance and then suddenly you're doing Wild?? like seriously? hiking alone with nothing else to do? no music festival or hello kitty booth, just you and nature."
"i don't care what anybody says, space is never a good thing. there, i said it." i point my finger at her accusingly. she tries to butt in again, muttering, "matthew hold on-"
"no! we have been through too much together, you and i, okay? listen, i know things aren't perfect, i'm not perfect, and there's been some issues. i am not unhappy. i am not unsatisfied. you think i'm unhappy and unsatisfied, and i can't convince you that i'm not! i mean.. this.. right here-" i motion towards me and her, who is standing absolutely frozen. "-is all i will ever need. shit, i never even thought it would happen! and i thank my fucking lucky ass stars every day. i know i'm not the easiest guy in the world to build a life with and.. and share a house with, but there is no one who will be more here for you than me!
"i will never leave! i will never think about leaving. i will do whatever it takes to fix what's wrong. i'll- fuck- i'll go to a therapist or some shit, i'll quit youtube if that's what you want! i'll give you back the entire closet, i don't need it! i only took that half because you insisted i do.. i don't need it, take it."
she frowns. "i don't want it."
"well it's yours, take it."
"i don't need it!"
"yes you do! you need it! you need the space and I NEED YOU. damn it, yn! we have been through so much. but we made it here! you can't leave, sweets, please." i completely break, raising my voice and expressing my deepest feelings without even hesitating.
all i can hear the cars honking outside for a good ten seconds. yn has tears gushing down her pretty face with the most beautiful smile spread across her lips. "matt.. i think we should get married."
oh. i furrow my eyebrows. "but.. i-i thought-" i cut myself off, fucking shut up. i run out of the room to a closet by the front door. i pull out the engagement i ring i bought a year ago, quickly dusting off anything on the velvet box before walking back into the kitchen. she lets out a small gasp, wiping the hot tears from her eyes. i grab her hand, kissing it softly. then i get down on one knee.
tags <3
@stargirlsturniololover @junnniiieee07 @mattsneezing @freshloveee @freshsturns @emma4eva @r6diosturns @matthasmywholeheart @donthugmeimhot @blahbel668
#𝓶𝓪𝓽𝓽 𝓼𝓽𝓾𝓻𝓷𝓲𝓸𝓵𝓸#sturniolo triplets#matt sturniolo#sturniolo#matt sturniolo x reader#matt sturniolo x fem reader
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