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suguann · 3 months

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PRETTIEST BABY—JJK MEN. * ˚ ✦

✎. they can't help it, they're kind of obsessed with you. | wc. 2k+

tags. fem!reader, thigh riding, slight food play, unprotected sex, mating press, spit play, object insertion, oral sex, threesome, spit roasting, rough sex, degradation, praise kink, pet names [18+ only]

featuring. nanami, sukuna, choso, gojo & geto

an. dividers by @/hitobaby | masterlist

↬ NANAMI

You don’t hear him when he walks in, too busy dancing around his kitchen to a song playing on the radio in that short sundress that always makes his pants feel tight. But at the sound of him setting his keys and briefcase down on the counter, you turn and give him a pretty little smile.

“Hey, I just put the kids down for a nap.” You pop a dollop of cream into your mouth from the bowl you’re holding. “How was work?”

Nanami can’t think straight enough to answer, too busy staring at your cheeks, how they suck in around your finger, and the sound of your hum when the sugar hits your tongue. The sound has him thinking about you humming like that around his cock, or wondering if you’d tease the purpling head the way you’re licking your finger.

He shouldn’t be thinking it at all—not when the babysitter should be here any minute to watch the boys.

But he can’t help it.

When you pull your finger out of your mouth, you have just enough time to squeak before his hand is palming the back of your head, and his lips come crashing down against yours.

He groans into your mouth, his hands carding down your sides before finding purchase at your hips to bunch in the skirt of your dress. You release the most adorable gasp when he picks you up, carrying you across the kitchen to sit in one of the dining chairs; his hold keeps you from falling off his lap as your legs drop from behind his back to around his thighs clumsily.

Nanami’s hands slide up from the swell of your hips until they cup your breasts, his thumb circling a nipple reverently.

“Prettiest tits,” he mumbles to himself.

You moan louder than you should with the kids right down the hall, your fingers flexing around his shoulders. “Oh!”

“Shh, honey,” he smiles faintly, pressing kisses against your open, panting mouth. “Don’t want to wake the kids.”

His thumbs brush against your nipples through your dress, his hands spanning almost the entire width of your rib cage. You shiver from how the fabric of your bralette and dress rub against sensitive, pebbling skin, creating an electric pulse with every pass that travels down to where you’re aching and empty.

You bury your face in his neck, rolling your hips over the hardness in his neatly pressed dress pants.

“Do you think you cum for me like this, sweetheart?” His lips move along your jaw, a distraction that makes your head fuzzy. But you still hear him, and your thighs clench around him in anticipation—a delicious sort of ache tingling up your spine with a subtle thrust of his hips against yours.

“I—ah—don’t think—not like this.”

“I think you can,” he coos, nosing at your neck, pressing another kiss there. “Come on, be a good little wife and cum for me.”

Oh, god. You’re going to cum from this—maybe from the filth dripping from your husband’s tongue alone.

Your thighs are slippery. You can feel it every time Nanami helps you roll your hips against him, and a sticky-hot heat swirls in your abdomen, moving all the way down to your curling toes. Your heart stutters in your chest to keep up with your rapid puffs of breath into his mouth.

You’re going to…You’re really going to—

His fingers twist your nipple, and like a switch, your mouth falls open in a silent scream, and you’re shaking in his lap. Nanami helps you move against him to ease you through it, whispering tiny indiscernible praises through the fog of syrupy bliss.

“So good for me.” You hear a zipper coming undone as your head slowly clears. “You can be good for me a little longer, and try to give me another, okay?”

↬ SUKUNA

He asks you to stay the night after he gets home late from a busy day at the gym—his clothes rumpled and hair sticking every which way. You get a little flustered at the thought of sleeping under the same roof as the stupidly attractive father to the kid you babysit, and you try to politely decline by saying, “I shouldn’t.”

“I can’t let you walk home in the dark,” he says, sounding just a tad tired as he heats up leftovers in the microwave. “Plus, Hana was disappointed when she found out you leave every night.”

“Really?” Hesitant, safe.

A little grin spreads across his face, making your breath stutter in your chest. “Yeah. Imagine how excited she’ll be when she finds you here in the morning.”

You bite your lip, already thinking about it. She is a sweet kid…

“If it’s…If it’s not too much trouble.”

“Cross my heart,” he tells you.

It’s surreal to think saying yes leads to him fucking you into his super soft king-sized mattress an hour later—you and Sukuna were never supposed to be a sweet mix of limbs and hot pants into each other’s mouths, and yet, here you are. If you’d known this would happen from wearing his clothes, you would have done it months ago.

He has two thick fingers pressed against your tongue to muffle your moans, the way you slightly gag around them sounding so much louder in your ears than the noises he’s trying to keep quiet. Your cunt feels swollen and sensitive just from him notching the head of his cock inside, only aided by the rough swipe of his thumb against your clit.

It’s already the most you’ve ever let any man do—no condom, nothing but slick skin—reasonable, responsible words turning to smoke with another inch inside you.

“Look at you,” he groans, a large hand covering the small impression of his dick pressing up against your belly. “So fucking tiny, I hardly fit.”

But he does fit, slipping in the last half inch, his thighs touching the back of yours, his fingers sliding a little deeper down your throat. The sudden need to get air into your lungs distracts you from the uncomfortable stretch between your thighs.

“Fuck, baby. Took me—ah—took me like a champ.” His breathing is labored, his voice rough. “How about a little more, okay?”

All you can do is nod, teary-eyed, whimpering.

When his fingers leave your mouth to palm the back of your thighs, you can’t control the too-loud whine that escapes your raw throat—high-pitched and surely reaching beyond his bedroom door. His shoulders press your legs further into your chest, making you feel smaller than you already are underneath his broad shoulders, and he brings his hand back up to your mouth to cover the moans you can’t hold in.

“Be quiet—so fucking tight, needed this—and let me fuck this toy cunt.”

↬ CHOSO

“Come on, baby, you can do it,” you tell the little boy, trying to make his way from the back steps to you sitting in the grass.

Choso watches from the porch, sucking on a lollipop as you play in the yard with his son. You hadn’t expected him to come home for a few more hours, and it’s hard not to look over at him, your cheeks hot from the amount of attention on you.

Neither of you spends much time together outside of a few pleasantries before and after work, asking about each other's day, him asking if Yuji was good for you—he always is—before you go home.

Then, one drunken night, you’d ruined everything by accidentally sending a nude to him (your boss, no less). Now, he hardly says a word to you; no, you leave in a rush—hair in your face, coat hanging off an arm—before he can open his mouth.

But Choso coming home right around Yuji’s naptime (he’s never home this early) is about to change that.

“So,” you start to say after setting the baby monitor down and curling up on the couch, “have you gone to that new Thai place down the street?”

“It’s down the street. Of course, I have.” He crosses the room, almost looking like a predator with the way he stalks towards you.

“Oh—”

In a matter of seconds, Choso easily has you pinned underneath him like a butterfly, the skirt of your dress pooling up around your waist. Your head spins from the proximity, chest heaving when he moves down, down—-

He lays on his stomach between your legs, carefully wrenching your soaked panties to the side to expose your cunt. Drenched and vulnerable on his couch, your thighs tremble as he parts your folds with his thumbs to reveal the wet, clenching part of you that’s suddenly desperate for his touch.

“You’re messy down here,” he hums, popping his sucker out of his mouth to spit against your folds. “Drippy.”

The melted red sugary confection drips from his mouth onto your clit before ducking his head to swipe his tongue through your slit, slurping up the mess he made.

“Choso—oh!”

Your hands fly to his hair, messing up the bun he has it in, and he groans into your cunt. It makes the muscles in your stomach jump, and you tip your head back against the arm of the couch. The noises he pulls from your throat are embarrassing, whimpers and moans that make you sound as desperate as you feel.

“Knew you’d taste sweet ever since you sent that picture of this pretty pussy.”

Another cry flies from your lips when he pushes the sucker inside you, and one of your hands comes up to cover your mouth, trying not to wake the baby—you don’t want this to end before it’s even really started.

“You look so cute spread out like this, letting me play with you like you’re mine.”

Then he suctions his soft lips over your clit, and your vision goes white.

↬ GOJO & GETO

You hadn't meant to interrupt your husband while he was in a meeting with Gojo. But it’d been important at the time—a reminder of an upcoming appointment that he forgot to mark on the calendar. Your daughter needed it for school.

Now you’re wondering if it could have waited—and at the same time, you’re glad you didn’t.

"Look at you, taking cock like a bitch in heat," Geto sneers down at you where you're sprawled out against the expensive leather couch in his office, mean fingers roughly tweaking your sensitive nipples raw through your sheer bra. "Couldn't wait for me to come home, huh?”

You whine around Gojo’s cock that’s currently stealing the air from your chest, his grip tight in your hair to keep you from pulling away.

“Fuck,” he mumbles, a grin on his lips. “Didn’t think your wife would be a good little cocksucker?”

You’re tacky-wet and sticky between your legs, staining Geto’s expensive pants, creating a large dark spot on the fabric below where his hips kiss the back of yours with every harsh thrust into you.

A distressed mewl leaves your lips when he reaches down to thumb at your clit. "Please," your voice cracks, garbled consonants, and vowels barely making sense on your tongue—overstimulated tears leaking past your hairline and onto the cushion under you.

“Shit, baby—” Gojo groans, practically fucking your face—a stark contrast from how Geto steadily presses in you. It makes you dizzy. “You keep whining like that, and you’re going to make me cum.”

Sweaty strands of hair cling to your temples as you writh underneath the two imposing men determined to ruin you. You feel like an exposed nerve—a tender bruise before it blooms—desperately chasing a release just out of your reach because Geto refuses to give it to you.

You don't stop yourself from bringing your fingers down to where he sinks into your slippery heat, hoping he'd just give in and fuck you how you want.

He scoffs but doesn't push your hand away. "Did I say you could touch my cock?"

You try moaning a response, only to have Gojo’s hips stutter into your mouth, a guttural sound releasing from his throat.

"But you're a slut for my cock, aren't you? Can't keep your—fuck—hands off it." You don't even answer, can't when the feeling of sticky ropes of cum paint your throat, making all the words stick to the back of your tongue—your mouth quivering as you remember to inhale through your nose.

Geto’s resolve slowly crumbles when you clench around his cock, his hips needily pressing into yours with a grunt. "Shit, princess, just like that. My messy, drooling slut."

Just when Gojo slips from your mouth, Geto starts pounding into you, making you squeal hoarsely and arch up into his firm chest. "Aah, yes! F-feels good!"

He brings the wide pad of his thumb up to your hot cheeks and wipes away the fresh set of tears collecting along your lash line. "C'mon, baby. Stop your crying and cum. Milk my cock with this greedy pussy of yours."

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radiance1 · 2 months

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"Danny!" Danny turned around to find Plasmius, gunning straight for him on his motorbike, and came to a quick stop as if he wasn't about to run him over. "You need to keep your alternative self on a leash. You hear me?"

Danny took one long sip of his tea, staring Plasmius straight in the eyes, savored the taste for a moment before swallowing. "Nuh uh."

"What do you mean 'Nuh uh'!?"

"Nuh uh."

Plasmius straight up hissed, red eyes glowing from beyond his pair of sunglasses as he stared the teenager down. "Do you know how many times he's woken me up, before the sun itself is up, just to annoy me into spending valuable hours of my time with him!?"

Danny took another sip of his tea, reaching a hand under his shirt to scratch his stomach. "That sounds like a you problem, really."

"Da-"

"You know he's also made from you right? If I had to fight him, you're going to be annoyed by him." Danny stated plainly, making a gesture with his thermos. "Also, it's a bonus for me since you're too busy to do your frootloop things-"

Plasmius grabbed Danny by the back of his shirt and wrinkled his nose. "You really need to get better pajamas than a simple shirt and oversized pants." He placed the boy under his arm and took the sky. Danny idly shifted to Phantom as he took another sip. "So like, where're you taking me?"

"To go and put stop to that imbecile."

"You know I had plans today."

"Ice cream for a month, all from my card."

Phantom humed. "Make it two."

"Deal."

Phantom flexed his fingers. "...Three..."

"Doable."

"Oh, you're actually serious about this."

A drive later

You see, Dan was having the time of his life. Strongarming that old man at the asscrack of dawn, driving to Metroplis and causing mass amounts of property damage with the crown jewel being that he got to chase around Superman in an attempt to run him over.

He should've expected something to go wrong.

One moment, he was casually minding his business, trying to trample one of the Earth's greatest heroes under his motorbike. The next he was nearly knocked off of it when something slammed into him.

"Ello." Phantom said calmly, as if he wasn't just thrown by Plasmius right into his alternative self from a future that no longer exists. "Twerp." Dan also said 'calmly' as he grabbed onto Phantom and lifted him off of him.

Then dropped him.

Superman was very quick to catch the boy. "Thanks." Phantom said, and Superman smiled. "You're welcome! Are you here to pick him up now, or are you just waiting?"

"I'm getting three months worth of ice cream if I stop him now so like, pick him up I guess."

Superman help him up under the armpits and faced him towards Dan. "He's here to pick you up, by the way!"

"I fucking heard that!" Dan shouted at Superman before turning his attention to Phantom. "Also, what the fuck! You can't just do that! Did that old fuck put you up to this!?"

"Whaaaat? Noooo, he would neveeer..." Phantom glanced around, looking for Plasmius before clicking his tongue. There was an unfortunate lack of said halfa to throw under the bus. "If you stop for like, now, I'll share some of my ice cream with you."

Dan genuinely considered this proposal. "Know what, fine." He yanked Phantom from Superman's hold and dropped him onto the seat beside him before driving away.

"Enjoy your ice cream!" Superman shouted.

"Shut the fuck up boy scout!" Dan shouted back.

#dc x dp #dp x dc #dpxdc #dp x dc crossover #dcxdp #dc x dp crossover

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dante-mightdie · 2 months

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A small req? Wheree we're a milf and our incel son eventually joins the military (you choose if he joins the military or meets at a bar I ain't gaf) and meets Ghost, 141 whatever. He brings Ghost home to his basement room(or the 141 bb do whatever you want) and ghost is surprised n shi that we this incel momma when we com with snacks or something like 'get outta here mom you're embarrassing me Infront of my new friends!" Is our sons reaction or sum. And ghostie pookie excuses himself up to the bathroom to sloppily makeout with us 🥺

nobody look at me i’m foaming at the mouth

c/w: simon is kinda strange but in a weird sexy way, mentions of misogyny, talks of sex must no actual smut, housewife kink kinda

it’s no secret that your son is a nasty little misogynistic shit. everyone on base has had the experience of standing next to him on a night as out when he gets a drink thrown in his face by whatever girl is he was chatting to

they’d been there every time he dogs out in front of everyone when you visit him on base. watching your eyes well up when your son tells you that he doesn’t like your new haircut or dress, that you’re too old to wear stuff like that

simon tried not to judge, appearances can be deceiving. perhaps you’re not all smiles and baked goods, maybe you’re an awful mother behind the scenes. he really tried. until he found out the real reason your son treats you like shit…

“she made my dad leave. he told me after they divorced that she wasn’t giving him what he needed, that’s why he had to go and get it somewhere else.” your son finally admitted one night after going through half case of beer

simon felt his hand tighten around his bottle as your son continued to ramble about how you were always busy with shit jobs. waitressing, cleaning or retail. he spent most of his childhood never getting all the latest toys and clothes because you could never afford it, too busy catching up on late bills to make sure there was a roof over both of your heads

“she’s so selfish.”

‘fuck being non-judgmental’ simon thinks. this kid doesn’t know how lucky he is. having a such a lovely mum like you, never losing your patience with your son even when he treats you like dirt. always trying to greet him with a hug or kiss just for him to push you away. begging him to call when he’s away just so you can know your boy is safe :(

“sounds like your mad at your mum for being the one that stuck around, lad.” price buts in, shaking his head with a small laugh.

you had been a topic of discussion the night after your first visit to the base. the product of a few glasses of bourbon shared between simon and john

“did you see the new recruits mother? fuckin’ hell, if I were 10 years younger I’d be all over that.” price admitted, adjusting his hips as he leaned back in his desk chair. simon let out a small grunt of agreement, having thought about this since he first laid eyes on you

simon had come to the conclusion that you both just needed a good man in your life. your son needed a father figure that would actually stick around, he could tell by the way your son looks up to him and the captain, eager to impress them

and you. oh, you. with your sweet, simple dresses and adoring smile. simon wishes you’d smile at him like that. all that cooking that your son lets go to waste could go to him instead. you could cook his favourite dinners for him and take care of his house whilst he’s away at work, whipping the boy into shape. teaching him every thing that your sack of shit ex-husband clearly didn’t

he’d be so good to you too. he knows it’s been a while since you’ve had a man to take care of your needs. he sees the way you nearly drool as you watch him running laps around the field, tatted arms on display. he’d spit you open so nicely on his cock and he knows you’d take him so well too, your pretty cunt would he creaming all over him

he soon takes advantage of this knowledge, subtly convincing your son to invite him over to your home on leave. dropping some story about how his flat is getting some work done and that he only lives 20 minutes from you both. your son was quick to offer the lieutenant a place to stay, telling him that he could take your room. that you could sleep on the couch for a couple weeks.

‘we’ll share the bed.’ simon thinks, but he doesn’t dare say it to your sons face. can’t have this little brat meddling with his plan

his arrival is clearly a surprise to you from the way you rush about shortly afterwards to start scrubbing the house top to bottom, rattling off apologies about the state of everything. simon quickly shuts down any offer of him taking your bedroom

“keep your bed, love. I’ll take the sofa.” he grumbles, sipping the tea that you made for him whilst your son rolls his eyes from the other side of the kitchen

he can see the way your eyes look at him with this longing. he knows it won’t take much to get you into bed. poor thing that hasn’t had anyone to look after her for years

he spends the next few days proving to you that he can provide. helping you carry anything heavy, drying the dishes after you’ve watched them, fixing the handy jobs around the house

you’re constantly praising him, focusing your love and attention towards him instead of your ungrateful son and the boy hates it. which is just the cherry on top, simon thinks

“your mother is so lucky to have a son like you. you must help her around the house all the time!” you coo, fidgeting with your skirt

“my mum passed away… jus’ me left out of the whole family.” simon admits, solemnly

“you poor thing, I’m so sorry. you’re welcome here anytime…” you gasp softly, placing your delicate hand on his arm and squeezing the muscle of his bicep gently and simon is ashamed to say it made his cock twitch against his thigh

“thank you, sweetheart… such a lovely girl, aren’t you?” he smiles behind his mask, reaching over and wrapping his arm around your waist. he pulls you against him, putting one hand over your mouth to keep you quiet as he hoists you up onto the kitchen counter

he squeezes his large frame inbetween your spread legs, leaning forward to look into your widened eyes

“been so good to me, love. taking care of me. such a good mum to your son, ya just need a good man to be a wife to, don’t you?” he says, pushing your skirt up your lap and revealing your thighs to him

he feels your thighs squeeze his waist, an aroused reaction from you. your body slumps into his with a natural submission that makes his cock ache. he lowers his hand and hooks his mask over his nose, revealing the scar running over his lip

“s’alright, darling. ‘m here to look after you now. me, you and the boy will be a nice happy family, yeah?” he says with a small smirk. leaning forward to mould his lips against yours before you can answer

he hears the little whimper you let out as you kiss him back, a little sloppy and inexperienced from years of being single, too busy with your son and work to date

but that’s okay because simon’s here now. ready to claim his family.

#mw2 #cod mw2 #ghost #simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost simon riley

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scruus · 9 months

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playful slutty boys who send videos of them jerking off or fingering their tight hole on days you are busy in office. a lazy grin on their face with their legs spread wide apart for you to stare wide eyed through the screen while their hands rub up and down their sensitive chest, moaning out loud. they say the nastiest shit, “my hole is feeling so empty without you” or “my poor cock needs to be roughly slapped mommy”, while shamelessly wiggling their ass towards the camera. and when you get home all dizzy and extremely fucking horny, he sits on the couch all pretty in your hoodie with a tub of ice cream. eyes blinking innocently up at you, feigning the question, “what did i do?” before you drag their ass into bed to rail them hard.

ASMODEUS, CHILDE, suguwara, OIKAWA, atsumu, marius, GOJO, howl, KAEYA, venti, ayato, bakugou, DENKI, SAMPO

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gamermattsgf · 4 months

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Pulling on pigtails // beard Matt

Warnings: smut tehee / beard kink (is this even a thing?? lol) / cunnilingus / ‘good girl’ + ‘little girl’ / thigh kink / hair pulling / soft dom x sub fem reader / seated scissors / praise kink / spit kink / cream pie / hair pulling if you squint

Summary: you and Matt didn’t like each other at all when you were younger. In fact, you hated each other. Or so you thought. Y’know that one saying? That if a boy pulls on a girl’s pigtails it means he secretly likes her? Well… in Matt’s case that was certainly true, it just took him a little bit of growing up to realise.

Author’s notes: childhood enemies to lovers oooo, new trope time. This was a spur of the moment idea that literally popped up into my head during one of my classes. Reminder to pretend the reader is on the pill PLS. And just a quick warning that this one is going to be switching from in between diff time periods if anyone gets confused. Also beard Matt? R u kidding?? *orgasms*.

“Sometime ‘round eighth grade, remember our bodies were changing, you looked at me different…” - Ant Pile, Dominic Fike

•First grade•

You’re playing in the sandpit, just minding your own business by piling hoards of grit into the little bucket you have resting at your side. You intend to make a sandcastle, one of the best sandcastles you’ve ever made.

You stick your tongue out in concentration, your summer dress fit for the sunshine as it adorns your little body. Your sunhat is nestled on top of your head to shield you from the harsh rays that beam down from the sky whilst you busy away with playing by yourself. Packing in the sand tightly and then turning it with expert precision, your small chubby arms lift the mould carefully before you smile widely at the vision of the perfect sculpture placed before you. Well, as perfect as a sculpture of something can be to a 6 year old…

You have your back turned to your surroundings as you marvel at your creation. A mistake. Because, after you place the bucket back to the floor, someone else’s hand grabs a firm hold of one of your pigtails, yanking it backwards. You squeak as you fall onto your behind, covering the dress printed with sweet little strawberries in a myriad of sand before you twist your head at the sound of a childishly mean laugh.

‘Ouch? What was that for?’ Your voice wobbles, your glassy eyes looking at a young Matt who stands and crosses his arms in gleeful cruelty behind you, his dungarees still a little big for him and the slivers of a Spider-Man t-shirt peaking out from under the covers of his denim. He ignores you as he boyishly smirks, his dark blond hair straight and his mouth opening to bully you even further.

‘Ha! You loser. What ya doin’ building sandcastles?’ He jeers as he steps into the sandpit, his new pair of unlaced converse already scuffed up because of the amount of games of tag he’s played with his friends this morning. Suddenly, and to your utter dismay, he doesn’t give you enough time to retort back your upset before he is raising one of his legs and kicking it outwards. It barrels straight into your perfect sandcastle.

‘Building sandcastles is for babies. Babies like you!’ He ridicules as he stomps his foot into the sandcastle that you had just poured your entire heart and soul into creating not even moments ago.

Your fragile eyes well up with tears that drip from your waterline after Matt finishes crushing your craft. ‘That wasn’t very nice…’ you peep with an unmistakable frown on your face and your voice already raggedy with sobs. Matt’s beady blue eyes look at you once more, before he screws his face up and observes the way you cry, still in the position from when he had first snuck up to you and pulled on your hair teasingly.

‘Aww what’s wrong… you gonna cry?’ He feigns a pout as your nose begins to run.

Your little self feels so embarrassed that you’re crying in front of a boy, no less crying in front of Matt. He’s so mean to you. He picks on you all the time. You get no peace from him, you just wish he’d leave you alone, you liked being alone.

Pulling the stuffed animal you take everywhere you go from the floor, you hug it delicately into your chest as Matt jeers a chanting ‘Crybaby! Crybaby! Crybaby!’ Continuously whilst leaping around and pointing at you. You look to the ground shamefully, before you can’t take much more of his abuse. You don’t want to attract any more attention, not even from the parents that all flock together just yards away, huddled around the neighbourhood barbecue. And you certainly don’t want Matt causing you even more grief by calling you a snitch.

So instead, a simple whine is peeped from your throat as Matt steps back out of the sandbox, but not before playing with you once again by knocking off the little flowery bucket hat that had been fixed onto your head. You swipe it back up and dust it off angrily as he giggles and skitters off to go and play another game of hide and go seek with all of the other kids on the neighbourhood block. He turns back around once more to rudely stick his tongue out at you before leaving you all by yourself, now to wallow in your own sadness as you slump next to the destroyed sandcastle.

You just can’t help yourself as your nerve snaps, and as Matt runs away in his baggy dungarees, you squeal a high pitched and defiant ‘Maaaattt!!!’ To emphasises your anger, before huffing and petulantly crossing your arms, your head still kind of emanating a dull ache from where he had pulled your hair earlier.

Like you said, you just wished that annoying boy would leave you alone.

•Now•

‘Matt…’ you moan as he drops your thighs from the fleshy grip of his hands. You fall to your bed.

Within the soft lighting, his beard looks even darker and more prominent as he gazes at you with hungry eyes. Your heart beats down at your clit at wanting his tongue on you as soon as possible.

You and Matt are slightly older now.

At the roaring age of 20, you had bumped into him in your local grocery store after not seeing him for years. You see, you and him had gone to different high schools when you were younger, and sure, you had seen him around your neighbourhood a couple of times before, but it had never been enough to form a proper conversation with him.

Both of you had clearly been shocked at how much your appearances had changed as adults. You found it quite funny really, that the boy from your old neighbourhood block who used to crumple up balls of paper and chuck them at your head childishly, now had himself a beard.

Matt had been too stunned to speak.

Now being the mature young man that he was, he really didn’t expect to see an age old crush of his standing before him and looking just as pretty, if not prettier than she had when in her youth.

In the grocery store, he remembered smiling fondly at you as you both stood in the bread section, before reaching out one of his hands to jokingly tug on one of the pigtails. ‘Still wear around your pigtails huh?’ He had mumbled, a wave of nostalgia hitting the both of you as you looked at each other curiously. You blushed, embarrassed that the day you had decided to plait your hair into pigtails was the day that you would bump into what you considered to be your childhood bully. Typical.

Although, Matt saw you as something completely different at the time - unbeknownst to you.

You had shrugged and smiled sheepishly, replying with a ‘you’ve got a beard now…’ as you pointed towards the dark hair holding up his cheekbones sharply. Matt had softly chuckled and gently dropped his eyes to check you out. ‘Yeah I guess I do’.

As you chatted a little more, both of you decided to stick with each other for the rest of the duration of your grocery trips to catch up. Matt had even walked you out of the store and into the small parking lot. After he had put his groceries away into his car, shutting the trunk and locking it back up again, he felt the need to talk to you further and so shyly asked you out to dinner- which obviously you agreed to.

It was nice to see how much Matt had changed and really grown up, it was refreshing almost. However, that dinner date didn’t end at all like how you expected it would… because to end the evening, Matt had spent the entire night apologetically fucking his cock up into you on your couch, both of your faces sweaty and blushed, soaking in the obvious attraction you had felt towards one another. His hands had tightly intertwined with yours as he pinned them above your head and his mouth had been so close to yours the whole entire time. You remember him releasing whimpering pants against your mouth in between sloppy kisses whilst he mumbled ‘m’sorry… m’so sorry for how I treated you when we were kids…’.

But after you were finished, the endeavour didn’t end there, you didn’t cut off all contact with each other and go back to never speaking again. No. Instead, Matt had boldly asked for your updated number, since both of you now had phones, a luxury that 6 year old you two could have only dreamt of. And he texted you, again and again, and he also came over to fuck you… again and again. He was certainly a lot more straightforward with it now, that’s for sure.

Matt just couldn’t get enough of you, he was fucking obsessed with you, and he took full advantage over the fact that his 20 year old self now had the confidence to pursue you, the confidence that 8th grade Matt lacked.

And so that was that.

Now you are both here, Matt making a routine visit around to your apartment with hungry eyes and a hungry appetite.

The older boy kneels onto your bed, the mattress groaning and squeaking underneath his weight which gets you to shift in anticipated desire as he crawls right over to your awaiting body.

Slipping in between your legs, your hands splay behind you and keep you steady as his lips feather onto yours again, his tongue making easy work of snaking into your mouth and licking against your own. He kneels in between your spread legs, smoothing his hands down your rib cage and sliding them to your hips, before moaning ‘lie down angel’ into your lips, gently helping you by digging his thumbs into your tender flesh.

You fall back, your hair fanning out around you, but your head not quite reaching a pillow, so Matt smacks his lips, leaning over you so he can snatch one and slide it under your head for your comfort.

‘That better for my baby?’ He mumbles with his hands coming to rest under your arms, dangerously close to your swelled tits that had hardened upon his presence. You nod and he smirks, leaning his head down as he simultaneously moves his thumbs onto the pebbles of your nipples, yourself whimpering whilst he rubs them and kisses down into your mouth again.

Matt spent an awful lot of time during your horny fucks trying to make up for his past actions and mean comments by showering you with compliments and babying you as much as possible and it worked to flatter you into wetness every single fucking time.

‘Aren’t you just so pretty…’ he absentmindedly praises against your lips, now slipping the rest of his hands onto your tits to gently squeeze them, resulting in your rosy blush turning to an aroused red.

You swallow, bashful and nervous as he gets you to lean up so that he can slip your thin cotton top from off of your torso.

Throwing it to the floor, he sits back on his haunches to admire your bare tits, dewy and flushed whilst you look away in embarrassment.

‘Stop staring…’ you mumble shyly, but he only frowns, reaching his hand forward to grip your chin and turn it back to his face. ‘But why? They’re mine are they not? You’re my little girl… not anyone else’s… beautiful things should be looked at’ he starts, and once again, you feel the gush and drip of your arousal seeping through your underwear.

His voice dims to a whisper… ‘and beautiful things should be touched… shouldn’t they angel?’ He asks a rhetorical question before his hands find your tits again.

You falter, moaning a little when his mouth comes next, fully attaching itself to your right one so that his tongue can roll over your sensitivity, he hums and your back arches when you grip onto his floppy hair, his palms now caressing your waist. ‘Fuck…’ you quietly breathe into the air, nearly having to bite your lip and suppress a groan when Matt cheekily mumbles ‘is my little girl trying to use big girl words now?’ into you tits.

His tongue drips saliva all over them, and when he pulls away the freshly coated skin shines within the light, before he goes to suck on your left one.

Matt likes to spend extra time on every inch of your body, every inch of your skin, before he really gets what he wants, which is a taste of the delicate cherry nestled in between your honeyed thighs.

Leaning his chin on your breastbone, he watches the way you have your head thrown back in ecstasy like a lion, before he leans back up to roll both his sweater and his shirt up and over his head, soon discarding his own clothes. Then, he slips his thumbs into your pyjama shorts, taking them off and almost drooling at the sight of your baby pink panties, soft with a little bow at the stitch of them.

Some things never change. Your incessant love for the colour pink ever since you‘ve been a little kid being one of them.

This makes Matt’s cock throb, and he drips pre-come into his boxers at the sight of his little girl with her tits out, all hot and bothered just for him as he leers over her.

Suddenly, you pipe up in a gentle voice, being careful with your inquire which makes Matt’s heart melt and his cock even harder.

‘Can… can I have your special kisses now, please?’

Matt nods his head, stroking his hands down the backs of your thighs as he dreamily muses ‘of course you can angel… such a good girl for asking so nicely, aren’t you?’.

His praise naturally rolls off of his tongue like melted chocolate, and his hands make you ache. Finally, he leans down, before nudging his nose against your throbbing nerve, mumbling a starved ‘these panties are so pretty little girl… I think I’m going to keep them so that I can wrap them around my cock whilst I think of you when I touch myself’.

With that being said, you let out a strangled breath, your back yet again arching and your toes curling as his thumbs slip into the waistband of them to pull them off.

After they roll off, Matt shoves them into his back jean pocket, wasting no time in diving back down and spreading your thighs open for him whilst he caresses them. He squeezes them when you hiss at the feeling of his tongue licking into you, his head nestled right in between your thighs so that he can look up at your face over-protectively.

Matt’s facial hair is long enough for you to feel his bearded face harshly graze along each side of your thigh whilst his jaw works mercilessly. The rough hairs rub against your core when his nose nudges against your folds to get better access and you arch your back into the air at the sensation of it.

‘Matt- that feels so good… please-’ you beg, not being able to help yourself as you grab his hair and keep him there, squeezing your thighs around his head so that you can guiltily feel his facial hair better as he licks into you.

‘Yeah? Am I treating my little girl well hm? Am I taking care of her like I said I would?’ He teases, bringing his face up to look right into your eyes from between your legs, obviously happy with the noises he has managed to force out of you thus far.

You nod your head, humming aggressively before you buck your hips up, wanting him to continue for a little while longer… and so he does, except this time, something changes within the swirling motions of his tongue.

Instead of his usual strokes and licks, he slows his wet muscle down, making you realise within the suggestive motions that he is spelling out an ‘M’ on your clit. After the ‘M’ he slowly kisses it once, before spelling out an ‘A’. Your stomach drops and churns with desire at the possessive yet erotic nature of the action.

Soon after a continuation of kisses, two ‘T’s are spelt out, and finally an ‘S’…

Matt’s…

Your clit belongs to Matt, and he makes that very clear with the flick of his tongue and the look he gives you as he gazes up at you whilst spitting on it to get it wetter with his own saliva.

‘You’re fucking mine’ he throatily speaks with a deep hoarseness to his voice, and your stomach rises and falls with laboured breaths.

‘Yes… yes I’m all yours!’ You whine into the air, looking down at Matt just as lustfully as he looks up at you, your past hatred of each other all washing away as you find comfort within the tangle of your limbs.

Then Matt hums. ‘You’ve been such a good girl for me, letting me have you like that…’ he strokes your thighs yet again in adoration, resting his bearded chin on your pubic bone whilst lustily flitting his eyes up to you.

You smile at how similar yet different he looks to you now, both of you enthralled completely with each other. Past pains and experiences are wiped clean from the new slate you selected for your lives as soon as you had bumped into each other that one time in the grocery store.

•Fourth grade•

You’re on a field trip with your fourth grade class to your local aquarium.

You mind your own business, sticking out like a sore thumb as you trail behind everyone else, walking at the back by yourself. But you don’t feel lonely, you feel content at finally having peace. As the rest of your class chatters in groups happily, squealing and marvelling at all of the colourful fish, you prefer to admire them in quiet silence, walking right up to the glass and staring at their delicate fins before each time, seeing that the rest of the class has moved on and running to catch up with them.

You had just exited the underwater tunnel through the shark tank, looking at the floor to see their sleek grey bodies gliding underneath you before entering the jellyfish room. There are tanks upon tanks of different colourful jellies, some poisonous and some harmless, but all of them equally as beautiful with their trailing tendrils of stingers. You gasp quietly, your eyes sparkling as you run up to a massive tank full of a glowing purple and green species that float and dance about in the deep blue water aimlessly.

You press your hands up to the glass in childlike wonder, your nose almost touching the thick material whilst you scan over them and try to count how many are in the tank.

Unbeknownst to you, a pair of eyes watch your back, he too, by himself as his group of friends had left him to go and look at a tank full of long orange jellyfish. He hides behind a small tank in the centre of the room, shyly peaking around the corner at you and trying to think of a way he can poke at you.

He bites his nails and hums, wanting an excuse to walk up and tease you since he hasn’t already done so today. Ultimately, he decides to creep up behind you, smirking quickly at the creative idea that shoots through his mind whilst looking at your dad’s old baseball cap sitting on your head.

His quiet walk soon turns into a quick bursting sprint, allowing him to race up to you and pluck your hat from off of your head before you have the time to register who it even is. You yelp and spin around in fear, your hand slapped on top of your now bare head as you look at a proud Matt in horror and fear. Your heart rate quickens. You were so scared of him.

‘HEY! Give me that back!!’ You bravely demand, your attention now distracted from the jellyfish and fixating upon the wicked boy who smirks and holds it up above his head. You go to reach for it, but realise in dismay that you aren’t tall enough. Matt had annoyingly had a boyish growth spurt over the winter break and was now a couple of inches taller than you.

You feel sick in worry as your heart rattles against your ribcage.

‘Ha! Nice try’ he cackles, extending his hand up even further when you wobble onto your tiptoes to try and reach for it. To steady your balance, you have to grapple your hand onto one of Matt’s shoulders to stretch upwards and he secretly blushes, not too sure as to why your touches seems to give him conflicted feelings of affection. You whine when he only leans up onto his tiptoes too, again, pushing your hat up further from your reach.

‘Matt this isn’t funny’ you struggle, smacking your lips and extending out your body as far as you can, before he starts to wave about his arm to dodge your clawed hand. He only giggles deviously in return.

Once, just once, you’d wish for him to not pester you when you’re minding your own business, you were enjoying your little day trip out, and this just ruined it all.

‘Yes it is’ he retorts back. But before he can take his jest any further, your fourth grade teacher Mrs Banks notices your little ruckus and decides to intervene, much to your immediate relief.

‘Matthew Sturniolo!’ She calls and Matt suddenly goes rigid, the hairs on the back of his neck raising as he turns to look at her sheepishly whilst her short high heels clack towards you two. You relax, knowing that Matt is probably most likely going to be told off. And you’re right when she berates him and forces him to hand you back your hat and apologise.

For the rest of the school trip you stay glued to Mrs Bank’s side, fearful that trailing at the back will only make you more of a target for Matt’s vicious onslaught of teasing once again. But Matt stays put with the rest of his friends, only giving you periodic glances and death stares after being chastised by your teacher.

You went home that day feeling dejected and Matt went home feeling confused and frustrated. Because why is it, that he enjoyed teasing you so much. So much so to the extent where he didn’t think he could go a day without it?

•Now•

‘Do you think you’re ready for my cock now angel…?’ He questions, before answering the question himself when he leans upwards to unbuckle his belt, the metal jingling as he threads it through his belt loopholes and onto the floor.

Then his pants come next, leaving him almost as exposed as you, before he bends back down and digs his hands underneath your body, scooping you up effortlessly and cushioning you into his lap. His hands freely trail, groping and squeezing your thighs so hard that when he removes them, they leave little red marks and crescent moon nail imprints into your flesh.

You kiss frantically once again, desperate to engulf your scents over each other’s skin whilst you place your thumbs on either sides of his cheeks. His tongue is hot and sticky, your connection so messy that sometimes you accidentally get spit over the skin around your mouths. As you stroke your fingers over his jaw and cheekbones, you feel his bristly facial hair and clench your soaked thighs at its roughness, remembering the way it sharply rubbed against the insides of your spread legs just moments ago.

‘Please- please can I have your thigh…?’ You politely ask into his lips, your beg coming out breathless and whimpered. Matt sighs, ‘but baby… I wanna have your gut…’. You pull away and pout in sadness, and Matt’s heart sinks at the look on your face, again, the guilt of his past coming to haunt him. Just then, he thinks of an idea.

‘Why don’t we compromise then…’ your face lights up and you nod.

‘What do you want me to do…?’ You trail off and clench again when Matt pinches one of your thighs. Matt smirks, and then crunches his stomach so that he can lower his back onto your mattress, yourself still sitting on his lap. ‘Take these off angel…’ he mumbles, referring to his boxers that conceal his dripping cock. You obey him without question, the angel comment driving you to the edge as you hook your hands into his pants and slide them down. You get up from off of his lap momentarily to remove them from his haired thighs and toss them onto the floor before returning your full attention to the way his cock stands and almost visibly pulses.

‘What now?’ You breathe and watch Matt’s grin as his head props itself up onto your stack of pillows. ‘Back on my lap n’turn around… let me see that ass’ he instructs lightly, his voice soothing and encouraging as you squint your eyes and turn your back to him in confusion. Swinging one of your legs over to his other hip, you sit on his pelvic bones, the sight of his sticky red tip dripping from just below you.

‘Spit on it.’ He demands once again, this time in a more commanding tone. Again, you do exactly as he says and let a thick string of saliva pour from out of your mouth. It splatters right onto his head and he hisses as it slowly rolls its way down the left side of his thickness. ‘Good girl…’ he struggles, his voice forced through his gritted teeth.

‘Now put one of your legs in between mine and sit on my cock’, you obey him quickly, your core aching to feel his shaft forcing your walls apart as you hoist you left leg in between his so that you can now sit on top of him at an angle. Gravitating upwards, you grip onto him and push his tip in between your folds. Slowly sliding down you let out a gulping pant before fully sitting your ass back down over his bulging hipbone. Matt tips his head back and feathers his eyes shut before willing himself to slide the thigh nestled in between your two legs upwards.

He brings it up just far enough for you to grind your clit over it when you start to move.

‘There’s your thigh angel’.

He smirks whilst looking at your back, your ass so tantalisingly sat on him that he could burst at any moment. He feels the heat from your clit emanating towards his thigh readily and it makes his mouth water.

Your chest heaves as you look down at his haired thigh wedging open your legs, the hard muscle of it brushing against your clit ever so slightly. After a couple of moments of silence and heaving breaths, Matt decides to reach out his hands to smooth them against the curves of your hips, his palms splayed on the sides of your asscheeks. ‘Is my little girl gonna move then, hm?’ He hums tauntingly, before helping you a little by rocking you forward and flexing his thigh towards you so that you can grind it onto your clit.

Your breath hitches and one of your hands comes flying up to firmly grasp ahold of his bent kneecap, the other one gripping onto the bedsheets at your side.

He starts to move you gently, his cock slipping in and out of your cunt slickly whilst your weeping clit is continuously stimulated on his thigh. You bite your lip, tossing your head back and arching your spine into the rest of his thigh whilst he keeps his eyes trained on the way your ass shakes gently with every swivel of your bouncing hips.

‘Thaaaat’s it… that’s my good girl’ he coos up to you with his raspy voice, admiring you from the back whilst you get off to him in the scissored seating arrangement.

‘Matt… this feels so good- please don’t… don’t stop…’ you whine through a moan, twisting your neck back slightly so that you can watch the way Matt’s mouth opens through pants, his cheeks pink with bashfulness as he guides your hips with his veiny hands. He hits all of your sweet spots at once this way.

‘Don’t worry angel face… m’not stopping until I make you cum the amount of times I made you cry…’.

•Eighth grade•

Matt and you are 13 now. Both going into eighth grade. Matt had been away at a summer camp all break and within that expanse of time you had developed a bit, both inwardly and more importantly… outwardly.

When you both return to school he isn’t quite expecting the sudden change in your appearance and he wonders how someone could morph so much in such a small amount of time… Going into your teenage years is certainly a perilous time for both of you because for one, your bodies are changing and your hormones are only just starting to activate properly, and two, Matt is finally getting to understand that possibly… affectionate feelings of his turn into acts of bullying when he likes someone.

That someone being you.

Matt’s 13-year-old self stands there, with gangly, growing limbs as he quietly ogles at you from afar, feeling awkward and self conscious in his own teenage boy body. What are these fucking feelings? Why are they so confusing? And why can’t they just leave him alone?

He watches you walk down the corridor towards him, his heart nervously thumping in his chest. He thinks you’re going to just walk past him, until he sees that you’re walking straight for him instead. He freezes, and almost pisses himself in fear with his fingers twitching and his eyes widened.

Quick Matt, think of something mean to say to her before it’s too late.

‘Excuse me’ you say bravely, trying to force down your nerves in front of a Matt, who clearly came back from summer camp with a gorgeous tan, his also usually dark brown hair bleached slightly lighter thanks to the sun. You thought it had been odd when his blonde hair back in first grade had slowly started to darken until he had turned into a brunette, but now you were used to it.

‘What?’ Matt mumbles, a little spaced out.

You raise your eyebrows at him. ‘Um… you’re standing in front of my locker I think’ you say, scared as to why he could be standing in front of your locker. Matt tried his hardest to shove down any nerves in front of you before scoffing and stepping to the side. He rolls his eyes.

‘Oh great, more than a hundred lockers in school and I get stuck next to yours’. Ah, so that’s why he is standing here… his locker is right beside yours. Great. You wince. You anticipate a mean comment from him every time you interact with him, but it doesn’t get any easier taking it. Guess that summer camp spirit he would have been surrounded with didn’t change his tune as much as you had hoped it would have.

‘Believe me, I’m not happy about it either’ you spit back, and shove past his lean figure to get to your locker. You start to put in your combination.

Matt blows a huff of air from out of his lips, crossing his arms and fidgeting about awkwardly behind you.

‘Knowing- knowing my luck… I’ll probably get stuck in the same class as you too’ he stutters, inwardly scolding himself for literally losing the ability to summon his normally quick witted attitude. Instead he stumbles over his words like an idiot. You only shake your head and sigh, shoving a note pad into the metal compartment before slamming it shut and re-locking it. ‘Whatever Matt’ you scoff and strut away, leaving Matt almost gripping the wall and heaving a sigh of relief when you’re gone.

But then later that day, it really is just your luck. Because both you and Matt end up walking into the exact same math class together, the two of you collectively sighing, but for vastly different reasons.

•Now•

‘Fuck you always feel so good’ Matt whines deliriously. ‘You’re perfect… just perfect for me’. The air around the both of you is hot, your skin rough and sticky with sweat whilst the sound of the bed squeaking underneath your bounces harmonises with your moans. You feel like crying in ecstasy, you love it when Matt’s cock makes you feel so full, because it helps to sate your appetite and you look forward to him coming around everytime he texts that he’s going to drop by.

You are so fond of how mature he is, how old he looks. It makes you squeeze your thighs together. And now he grows his beard out just for you because you say you like it so much, until it gets a little too long and he has to shave it again. But whenever it’s at that perfect stage, he always spends multiple nights around at your apartment, just so that you can utilise it. Matt doesn’t mind, he fucking loves it. Anything to make you happy.

‘I’m… I’m your good girl’ you breathe back to him, his thigh now almost soaking with sticky precum and spit whilst you grind you clit onto him and ride his cock simultaneously. ‘You’re my good girl’ he responds back reassuringly, the possessiveness in his tone only making you squeeze around him more. He doesn’t bother to bite his hand to hide his whimpers of pleasure because he knows you deserve to hear them, deserve to see the way you make him feel after all of these long winded years of unsolved feelings and pain.

You swivel on him a little longer, your tits bouncing rhythmically before pressure knots your stomach tightly together. Your mouth hangs slack as your shoulders heave more than normal. ‘Baby… baby I think I- I’m gonna cum’ you utter a high pitched breath to him, and he nods, rubbing his thumbs over your ass cheeks comfortingly as he helps speed you up a little faster. It drives him fucking feral when you call him baby, because he’s so fucking selfish and possessive over you.

‘Go on angel… cum all over me like a good girl’ he states once again, which is enough for the tight tension within your gut to snap. Waves upon waves of euphoria rush all down your thighs, your high lasting for a good while. Within this time, Matt’s breath similarly hitches, and it’s not long before he’s creaming his load into you too, ropes of cum dripping down your walls and around his now extremely slimy member whilst he thrusts you into oblivion and exemplifies your orgasm.

After they are over, you messily collapse backwards, your chest heaving thickly as you laugh. Your sweaty skins lies flushed against Matt’s whilst you rest on top of him. He smiles gently at your little giggle before scooping his arms up to tuck them underneath your tits. Using his upper body strength, he gently slides you up his torso a little farther so that he can cuddle you into him closely. He kisses your head gently, before moving on to kiss the shell of your ear as well. In doing this, his cock is slowly removed from your spent hole, allowing you to both relax in tired exhaustion.

Matt closes his eyes whilst nuzzling his nose into your hair. You delicately place your hands onto his forearms that wrap tightly around your chest. You stare at the ceiling before mumbling ‘who would’ve thought…’ down to Matt, who simply grumbles in questioning from below you. ‘That the guy who I thought used to hate me ended up in my bed a couple of years later’. You snigger and Matt smacks his lips, opening one of his eyes to turn and peek at your side profile from below you.

‘I never hated you… not really…’.

Author’s notes p.2: I just love Dominic Fike bro, any excuse to put his songs in one of my stories. No because I actually love this plot line, aren’t they just cuties?? I hope u guys were okay with visualising the position I had them in bc I gotta tell you, I was squinting my eyes trying to write it so that it made sense lmaoo. @luvmila444 u are so so welcome for this, sorry for the wait bbg :(. Also the blogs that are in bold on my taglist- I’m so sorry but for some reason tumblr isn’t recognising your names so I don’t think I’ve been able to tag u properly :/. But anyways I hope u all enjoyed this, and as always, ask/request anything, I love answering shit hehe.

Taglist: @lovingmattysposts @sturniolosreads @luv4kozume @luvmila444 @strniohoeee @strawberrysturniolo @asturniolos @thesturniolos @matthemunch @sturnioloenthusiast @vecnasnose0 @chr1sgirl4life @kvtie444 @ellie-luvsfics @hrt-attack @gigisworldsstuff @stargirlsturniololover @imlidewwallyhittingdagwiddy @sturniololoverr @jahlisa22 @bernardsgf @luvasr @meg-sturniolo @blahbel668 @liz-stxrn @sturnreblog @ratatioulle @luverboychris @isabellehoran @carolsturns1 @meanttomeet @rootbeerworshiper @lovergirl4387 @1800chokedathoe @sophie21153-blog

#sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #sub matt sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic

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rafeandonlyrafe · 4 months

Text

you're not his girlfriend

words: 700

warnings: 18+ only, smut, p in v sex, riding, angsty/sad ending, controlling rafe, drinking/partying, mention of physical violence, drug dealing, reader taking drugs/getting high

you’re not his girlfriend, but you do attend every party on rafes arm, his hand placed securely around your waist, giving warning looks to any man who stares a little too long at you, a little too long at your long legs in the short dress or your cleavage spilling out the top.

you’re not his girlfriend, but rafe saves the best of his stash for you, of course never making you pay. his eyes are possessive and lustful as you snort the line of coke off of his finger before collapsing into his body. he cares for you throughout your high, getting you whatever you need, talking to you, keeping you calm and happy.

you’re not his girlfriend, but spend hours riding his dick, bouncing and grinding after you convinced him to finally let you take control, his arms behind his head, a lazy grin on his face, watching your tits bounce with every movement, determined to make him cum as deep as possible inside of you. rafe only helps out when you cum, body shaking as he pushes you down onto his cock, cumming in time with you.

you’re not his girlfriend, but when ward kicks him out of the house, you’re the first person he calls. he pretends hes doing it for you, eating the ice cream and watching the cheesy movies, but when you cuddle up in bed, your arms around him, you both know that all the comfort is for him to feel better, to feel at home.

you’re not his girlfriend, but when you are chatting with another guy at a party, rafe gets furious, pulling you away, about to deck him straight in the face when your hands wrap around his bicep, explaining that the guy is gay, and you weren't flirting. rafe doesn’t punch the guy, but does take you upstairs into the bathroom and fucks you against the sink.

you’re not his girlfriend, but when he has to go away for a week for some business with ward, he tasks topper with looking after you, adding kelce in as well, needing to make sure you were looked after, with strict warnings not to touch you or get too friendly. you’re nice to the boys, inviting them inside for lemonade, knowing they’ll follow whatever rafe says.

you’re not his girlfriend, but he moans into your ear about how much he loves your pussy as he’s thrusting into you, making a mess of your cunt, his cock splitting you in half as his hands grip your waist, leaving bruises on your skin from how tight he’s holding you, but you love the marks, physical reminders of his impact on you.

you’re not his girlfriend, but you hang out with his little sister wheezie, taking her on shopping sprees with rafes credit card and out to ice cream.

you’re not his girlfriend, but rafe invites you over for movie nights, cuddling close to you. he holds you throughout the night, for once not putting his hand down your pants as he strokes a hand over your hair absentmindedly, eyes on the screen.

you’re not his girlfriend, but he invites you as his date to midsummers, matching his tie with the color of your dress. he spins you around the dance floor and looks happy being there for once.

you’re not his girlfriend, but he makes sure you get your favorite drink at a party, holding it for you when you go to dance with your girls, fingers twitching impatiently as you move on the dance floor under his watchful eyes, waiting for you to be back within reach. he lets out a breath of relief when you rejoin him, press yourself into his side and finish off your drink.

you’re not his girlfriend, even though you wrap your arms around him and kiss as his hips move slowly, his cock pushing gently in and out, slowly, deeply. he moans into your mouth, enjoying the slow and smooth motions of your bodies connecting, of being one.

you’re not his girlfriend, so you don’t say anything when you see him dancing with another girl.

you’re not his girlfriend when you watch him take her upstairs.

you’re not his girlfriend, but it doesn’t stop your heart from shattering.

taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @rafecamerongirl @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @jjmaybankisbae @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog @outerbankspov @drewstarkeyswifehoe @cutielando @kamninaries @buckyswhxre @rafeinterlude

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daisynik7 · 5 months

Text

Double the Fun

Pairing: Eren Jaeger x f!reader x Reiner Braun

Rating: Explicit – MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

Word Count: ~3.9k

cw: next-door neighbors Eren and Reiner, modern day au, all characters are mid-twenties, explicit language, p*rn no plot, smut – threesome, vaginal sex, anal sex, anal play, spit play, nipple play, cunnilingus, face-riding, blowjob, hand job (M/M), double-penetration, multiple orgasms from the reader, sex toy use (anal plug), cream pies (in both holes), Reiner is a bit of a perv and sniffs panties (just like how he sniffed Historia’s letter in the finale LOL), pet names (baby, sweetheart, sweetie), slight degradation (use of slut, cock slut, whore, and cock sleeve to address the reader), slight breeding kink, sex without a condom (assuming reader is on some form of birth control)

Summary: You’ve been having a bit of a dry spell recently with how busy you’ve been at work. When you finally manage to snag a date with one of your online dating matches, you’re unfortunately stood up, leaving you in a worse mood than before. Lucky for you, your two hot neighbors are more than willing to cheer you up.

Author’s Notes: Phew! This one is a doozy! Please make sure you read the content warnings before reading. This is filthy and shameless; I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it! I LOVE Eren and Reiner together, idk, they just always scratch this everlasting itch I have. I’m still getting used to writing threesomes, so I hope this is okay! Also, this is my first foray into butt stuff and I may have awoken something inside me, LOL. MDNI divider by the loveliest @/cafekitsune. Thank you for reading!

Taglist: @batafuraikisu @neverlandlostchild @bloompompom @dprkento @a-listaire @man-knees @slvt-for-smut @antique-remains @aiyaaayei

part 4 of to all the boys who live next door anthology series

“Are you sure you don’t want me to sit, like, two tables away? What if this guy is sketch?”

You can spot the obvious concern in Pieck’s voice through the speaker of your phone, which is currently face-up on top of your vanity as you get ready. You finish the last steps of your makeup, inspecting yourself in the mirror, satisfied. “Don’t worry, I’ve got pepper spray in my purse in case he tries anything funny,” you assure your best friend. It’s been a while since you last went on a proper date. Pieck’s always been a worry-wart about you meeting strangers from your online dating apps, constantly reminding you to stay vigilant. Tonight is no different.

“You should at least let your hot neighbors know that you’re going out, so they can keep an eye out for you,” she suggests, throwing that in casually. Ever since you moved in a few months ago, she’s been rooting for you to hook up with either of the two men next door, Eren Jaeger and Reiner Braun. She’s met them plenty of times in passing and would much rather you date one of them instead of the countless of mysterious men on your current roster.

There’s no denying that they’re attractive. Eren with his long, dark hair, striking eyes, and toned physique. Reiner with his sharp jawline, broad shoulders, and well-groomed goatee. They also happen to be incredibly friendly towards you, always greeting you in the hallway with a genuine smile, asking how your day went or what you’ll be up to. They’ve invited you for dinner on several occasions, which has always been pleasant, sometimes leaning towards the flirtatious side. You’re sure they’re just nice guys, cordial neighbors looking out for one another. There’s nothing more to it than that, even if a small part of you wants there to be.

You step back from your reflection, checking yourself out once one more. “I’ll be fine, Pieck.”

“What if I can’t reach you? There should be at least one other person who’s aware of your whereabouts, right?” This is what binging too many true crime documentaries does. Still, you’re grateful for your friend’s concern, knowing it’s all out of love. You can tell she’s actually distressed about this, so you end up agreeing, mostly to appease her. She wishes you well before hanging up as you slip into heels by the door.

You tug at the hem of your skimpy black dress, hand motionless on the doorknob. It’s your first date in over a month. Work has been so busy that you haven’t had time for romance or sex. The variety of sex toys tucked away in your drawer has been your only solace these past few weeks. To say you’re ready for some real action is an understatement. You’re also incredibly nervous, afraid you’ve lost your groove. That’s why you’ve taken extra measures to fully prepare yourself for anything tonight.

With a deep breathe, you step out into the hallway, following Pieck’s advice. You knock on your neighbor’s door and Eren is the first to answer. His expression brightens when he realizes it’s you. “Hi,” he greets you, flashing that charming smile of his. He scans you up and down, taking in your appearance. “Wow.”

“Is that a good wow or a bad wow?” you grin, twirling for him.

He swallows hard, checking you out once more. “Definitely a good wow.”

It’s that extra boost of confidence you need for this date, so you’re appreciative of him. “Thank you, Eren. You’re always so sweet.”

He crosses his arms over his chest, smirking. “So, hot date tonight?”

You decide to be honest with him. “Yeah. It’s been a minute, so I’m a little nervous.”

“Don’t be. Any guy would be lucky to date you.” His eyes twinkle at you kindly.

You imagine Pieck screaming at you from twenty miles away, begging you to date Eren instead of going out with this random swipe right. Eren is simply a sweet guy paying his neighbor a compliment. There’s nothing more to it than that. Before you get the chance to thank him, Reiner’s deeper voice calls out from inside the apartment. “Who is it?”

Without taking his eyes off you, Eren answers with your name. Soon, the blonde joins him, jaw dropping when he notices you. “Fuck.”

Eren elbows him in the chest, to which Reiner mutters a strained apology. “Sorry. You just look amazing.”

The flattery is almost too much, cheeks warm with embarrassment, stomach fluttering. “Thank you.” Reiner is usually the more forward of the two, blurting out whatever is on his mind, though you’re not complaining.

Grinning, Reiner asks, “So, who’s the lucky guy?”

“Someone I met online. My friend said I should let my wonderful neighbors know my whereabouts tonight, in case I end up missing,” you explain casually.

“How morbid,” Eren chuckles. “We’ll keep an eye out for you later so that your friend doesn’t have to worry.”

“I would appreciate that.”

Reiner raises a brow at you. “Unless you’re planning on sleeping with him. We probably won’t see you if it does go well.” He hunches forward when Eren lands another blow to his chest, shutting his roommate up.

You giggle, agreeing with him. “No, you’re totally right. I’m going to stay optimistic and say that if I don’t come home tonight, that’s a good thing.”

“We’ll hope for the best, then,” Eren replies, beaming.

You turn to leave, waving farewell to them. Reiner yells out, “Have fun tonight! But not too much fun!”

~~~

You return to your apartment complex less than two hours later, heels clicking loudly on the tiled steps, feet heavy with disappointment. After taking a twenty-minute taxi ride to the restaurant you agreed to meet him at, you proceeded to wait an entire hour only to realize that you’ve been stood up. No text, no reply, no call. You’ve been made a fool, completely humiliated, the night and the rest of your weekend absolutely ruined by this asshole’s no-show.

It takes you a while to dig through your purse for your keys, patience already worn thin. Frustrated, you groan out loud, staring up at the ceiling. “Why me?”

In the worst timing ever, the door to your left swings open. Eren pops his head out, saying your name curiously.

Reluctantly, you turn to face him. “Hey.”

He comes out, dressed casually in sweats, hair wrapped in a messy bun with the few stray strands draping the back of his neck. “That was quick.”

With an unconvincing smile, trying to hide the shame that currently consumes you, you admit, “I got stood up.”

His demeanor changes instantly. The concern on his face is endearing, and when he drifts towards you, he reaches out, then drops his arm, unsure how best to console you without crossing any lines. “No way.”

You nod, sighing. “It’s true.”

“Fuck, I’m so sorry.” He steps closer to you, hesitantly placing his hand on your shoulder, testing the waters.

You smile at him, enjoying this simple touch of comfort. “It’s fine. It is what it is.”

The two of you linger like this, Eren gazing into your eyes, holding you. His palm is hot on the fabric of your dress, and for a split second, you wonder how pleasant it’d be on your bare skin. And maybe it’s your wishful thinking or your desperation for human contact after being rejected tonight, but you can feel the heat of a spark between you now. Before you let your fantasies drive you to do something unprecedented, you search your bag again, finally retrieving your keys. He lets you go, watching you shove them into the keyhole, unlocking the door. “Are you okay?”

In all honestly, you’re not, but there’s nothing him or anyone else can do about it, right? “I’ll be okay. Sucks that I got all dressed up for this, though. What a waste.”

He doesn’t respond right away, choosing his words carefully. “Well,” he starts, the faintest blush tinged on his cheeks. “It doesn’t have to be.”

You stare at him, heart beating faster, making sure you’re understanding him correctly. “Really?”

He clears his throat, licking his lips. “Yeah. Maybe we can get some use out of it.”

“We?”

As if on cue, Reiner emerges from inside their apartment, having heard everything. “Fuck that shitty asshole. You’ll have way more fun with us.” He stands next to his roommate, grinning at you.

This time, you do listen to Pieck’s voice in your head, yelling at you to go for it. To let these two alluring neighbors of yours take care of you the way you deserve. Already feeling better, you give them a coy smile, opening the door to let them in. “Okay, then. Come on in.”

~~~

It’s the first time they’ve ever been inside your apartment, though you save the formal tour for later. As soon as the three of you are inside, door shut, shoes off, they’re both kissing you fiercely. Eren faces you, slipping his tongue into your mouth, hot and heavy. He caresses your sides, squeezing the curves of your body through your dress. Reiner is behind you, grip just below Eren’s, firm on your hips. His lips brush delicately on the nape of your neck, groin pressed to your backside, the bulge protruding from his pants growing harder and harder between your ass cheeks. You moan into the kiss, pussy throbbing in your lingerie, eager to be touched by either man, by both of them. Why did you even bother trying to hook up with strangers online when the perfect matches were beside you all along?

Reiner chuckles, breath hot on your ear, voice low and rugged. “You’re really horny, aren’t you? All dolled up and ready to be fucked, huh?” There he goes again, blunt and straightforward and so fucking sexy, exactly what you need tonight.

And here is Eren, soft and gentle, committed to kissing you, whispering sweet nothings any chance he gets. “You’re beautiful. Such a gorgeous girl. So pretty for us.” Also exactly what you need.

You lead them into your bedroom, Eren flipping on the light switch, keeping his lips on you while Reiner strips out of his clothes, starting with his pants. Eren does the same, hoisting his shirt off, revealing his impressive figure. You attempt to slip out of your dress, but Reiner stops you. “Keep it on,” he rasps, down to his underwear now, boner more obvious, poking out from his briefs.

Eren pinches your butt, snapping the tight fabric to your skin. “We’re not letting this go to waste, remember?”

You nod mindlessly, brain hazy with lust, too eager to be fucked. “Fuck me,” you beg, spit smeared all over your lips.

They both laugh softly, walking you towards the bed. “So impatient, so needy,” Eren coos, positioning himself in front of you, toying with the hem of the skirt.

Reiner sits up against the headboard, propping you up on his lap, your back pressed to his muscular chest. “What’s the rush, baby?” he teases, licking a stripe behind your ear. “We’re going to take care of you. Right, Eren?”

Eren bites his lip as he works your dress up past your thighs until it’s bunched up at your hips, exposing your soaked thong on your wet cunt. “Oh fuck yeah,” he huffs, salivating. “Gonna make you feel so good. Make you come so fucking much.”

You spread your legs wider for him, a pathetic whine escaping your throat, more and more desperate by the second. He hooks his finger on the crotch of your panties, smirking at the string of arousal that stretches between the fabric and you. “So fucking wet, holy shit.”

He tugs it all the way off your legs, tossing it over to Reiner, who brings it up to his nose, taking a big whiff. “Such a slut for wearing these on a first date. Our naughty girl.” He lets your lingerie fall from his grasp onto the floor, sliding to the plush of your thighs, keeping your legs spread apart.

Eren dives in, spreading his wide tongue flat on your clit, moving it side-to-side, stimulating you into your first orgasm. Your knees twitch from the sensation, the pleasure rippling through you like waves of ecstasy. You turn your head towards Reiner’s, opening your mouth, pleading him for a kiss. He obliges, sticking his tongue inside you, slurping up your saliva, hungry for it. “You’re so fucking nasty,” he growls, reaching for the drawer beside the bed. “Bet you have toys hiding in here. Why don’t we have some more fun and play with them?” You whimper wantonly, keen on the idea of Reiner using whatever he wants on you to make you come again.

He finds exactly what he’s looking for: your precious anal plug, tapered on one end, heart-shaped gem on the other. When he pulls it out, he barks out a laugh, almost like he can’t believe his luck. “You really are a whore,” he whispers in your ear, sinister and wicked, about to have too much fun with this. “Did you prep yourself to be fucked in the ass? Be honest.” Even Eren pauses, peering up at you, curious.

“Yes,” you mewl, squirming with arousal, body tingling all over.

Eren’s chuckle reverberates against your clit, releasing you from his mouth to lap at your wet slit. “Good girl,” he muffles, collecting your cum on his tongue. “So perfect for us.”

The dynamic between them spurs you on, Eren playing the good guy, Reiner playing bad. Both of them work together with a common goal in mind: to cheer up their pretty neighbor from what would have been a bummer of a night. But already, you’re thankful that you were stood up; you’re certain now that this is the much better alternative.

“Eren, switch spots with me,” Reiner demands. “And you,” he says, giving you a quick peck on the cheek. “On your stomach.”

You both obey him without protest. Eren leans against the headboard with a dazed look in his eyes, licking his shiny, cum-coated lips. He smiles as you gaze up at him, wrapping your fingers around his shaft, stroking him. You open wide, tapping the tip of his dick on your tongue before sinking down on him until you’re too the hilt, swallowing him into the back of your throat. He cups yours cheeks, caressing you gently. “So fucking pretty with my cock in your mouth. My gorgeous girl.” You accept the praise shamelessly, relishing the distinct taste of him.

From behind, Reiner worships you, squeezing your ass cheeks, spreading them apart to ogle at your fluttering hole. Without warning, he hocks a frothy wad of spit directly onto it, teasing his thumb on the rim. “Fuck, baby,” he utters as you moan on Eren’s cock. “I’m gonna put it in now, okay?”

You nod, taking Eren deeper, your nose pressed to his groin, drool leaking from the sides of your mouth, bracing yourself. The plug is slick with lube as Reiner pushes it in carefully until the heart-shaped jewel is flush to your hole. He swears under his breath, marveling at the sight before him, cock pulsating in his fist. You stay like this for a while, adjusting to the toy inside you. It really did help that you prepared for this earlier.

“So sexy,” Eren murmurs from above you, staring on your backside. “You take it so good, sweetheart.”

“Like an obedient slut,” Reiner adds, using his thumb to push the plug the slightest bit deeper. He lifts your hips to position himself below you so that you’re straddling his face. “Can you come again, baby?”

“Of course she can. She’s our good girl,” Eren purrs, petting your head softly as you continue to blow him.

Reiner eats you out sloppily, different from Eren, who’s intentional with his every move. It sends you into another frenzy, pushing you closer and closer over the edge, especially when he begins playing with the plug, pumping it in and out of you slowly. You’re overstimulated with Eren’s hot cock throbbing in your mouth, clit swollen on Reiner’s tongue, and asshole puckered around the smooth glass of the plug. You reach your climax easily, gushing all over Reiner’s face, riding out your orgasm until you’ve completely soaked him in your juices. He drinks it all up, messy and greedy for every drop of you he can scour. He really is as insatiable as you imagined he’d be.

You release Eren to catch your breath, to which he tips your chin up to face him. “You’re incredible,” he says, the familiar twinkle in his eyes making your heart race. You paw at his chest, crawling up to meet him for a kiss.

Reiner quickly joins the two of you, not wanting to be left out, rubbing his hard cock between your ass cheeks. You kiss the both of them at the same time, all of your saliva mingling together into a hot, wet mess that you’re currently intoxicated by. After a moment, Eren pulls back. “Does our pretty girl want to get fucked now?”

“Show us how big of a cock slut you are,” Reiner grunts, circling the jeweled end of the plug, teasing your hole.

Eren helps remove the dress off you completely, hoisting it off your body. He stretches his arm towards the drawer. “Are the condoms in here too?”

You shake your head briskly, bringing his attention back to you. “I want it raw. Want you to fill me up.”

They both moan, clearly fond of your request, kissing you feverishly. Eren nudges your breast into his mouth, latching onto your nipple. Reiner sucks the skin all along your neck, leaving his love marks, growling, “You want us to breed you, huh? Want all this cum inside these tight little holes of yours. Oh fuck.” His voice is rough and husky, gradually losing his composure.

Eren’s remains tender, his breath soft on your bosom. “We’re going to breed you so good, sweetheart.” He shimmies down the bed, lying flat on his back, peering up at you with adoration. You straddle him, rubbing yourself on his shaft, needy for friction on your aching clit.

Reiner’s embraces you from behind, groping your chest, focusing on his roommate’s dick and your wet cunt gliding along it. He reaches between you and Eren, fisting his friend’s cock with fast strokes. “Look how hard he is for you. He’s going to fuck you so good. Make you cream all over the sheets.” Your pussy is sopping with arousal from the dirty talk alone, but watching Reiner touch Eren has you dizzy.

“Fuck, Reiner,” Eren moans, throat bobbing as he swallows hard. “That’s so fucking hot.” He lets his roommate jerk him off while you continue to grind yourself on him. Soon, he replaces Reiner’s fist with his own, cockhead glistening with precum. “Are you ready, sweetheart?”

Reiner moves to your swollen bud, tapping it with his thick fingers. “Oh yeah, she’s fucking ready. Come on, cock sleeve. Put it in.”

Without wasting another second, you line yourself up with him. Eren slides in smoothly, his entire length in you, pussy stretched around him perfectly. You whimper from the fullness, his cock to the hilt and the plug nestled in your backside. Reiner places his hand on your posterior, urging you to lean down so that your chest-to-chest with Eren, who kisses you passionately, remaining still inside you. “Eren,” you whimper his name, drooling into his mouth. He smiles against you, delighted at how fucked out you are for him.

Reiner adjusts his stance, hovering over you by planting one foot on the bed to prop his knee up, giving him enough leverage. He focuses on the plug, tugging it out just barely only to push it back in, repeating this several times, causing you to cry out in pleasure. Finally, he removes it completely, staring wide-eyed at your gaping hole, oh-so-inviting for his fat cock. “Look at that,” he croons, circling your rim with his finger, sensitive to his touch.

You want so badly to be stuffed full by both of them. In a trembling voice, you whine, “Please, Reiner.”

Laughing, he delivers a harsh smack to your ass, skin immediately stinging from it. He dribbles more of his spit onto you, teasing the tip of his dick on the rim. “Not yet, slut.” You can’t see him, too immersed in kissing Eren right now, but you can practically hear the wicked grin on his face, watching you squirm below him as he torments you.

Eren intervenes, annoyed with his friend’s behavior. “Come on, Reiner. Give her what she wants. She deserves it.” He nuzzles his nose to yours. “She’s been a very, very good girl.”

Eventually, Reiner relents. “You’re right. She’s a good girl. And good girls deserve to get fucked in both holes.”

You shiver at his perverse words, bracing yourself. At last, he guides himself inside you, filling you to the brim. It’s better than any fantasy you could dream of, the sensation so intense, tears begin welling in your eyes.

They start thrusting simultaneously, Eren pummeling your cunt from below, Reiner pounding your ass from behind. It’s messy and raunchy, their hands slippery all over your body from lube, slick, and sweat. The air surrounding you is laden with lust and desire. The collective moans from all three of you echo off the walls of your small bedroom, along with the squeaks of your mattress creaking under the weight of your vigorous lovemaking.

Reiner is rendered speechless now, totally concentrated on pumping his cock in and out of your fluttering hole, the only sound from his mouth being his ragged breaths. Eren slips one hand between you, his digits pressed to your puffy clit as he fucks up into your pussy. The other fondles your tit, thumb flicking your nipple until it’s perky. He continues to praise you, constantly musing about what a good girl you are, how perfect you are for them.

At this point, you’ve lost track of how many times you’ve come. You’re in a perpetual state of ecstasy, surrounded by the two hottest men in your life who are voracious for your orgasms. The sour memory from earlier has completely faded and all you can think about is the sweet bliss you’re currently indulging in.

Eren is the first to come, no longer able to endure it. His even thrusts turn erratic. “Fuck, I’m coming. I’m coming inside you sweetheart, oh fuck.”

You kiss him languidly, drinking up his moans as he floods your cunt with his load. Soon, Reiner swears loudly, announcing his own climax. “Fuck, gonna breed this slutty hole.” His cock swells, spurting his warm seed inside you.

You relax on top of Eren, who’s equally as spent as you. Reiner pulls out slowly, fixated on his own cum dripping out of you. “Fuck. Let’s see the other one, baby.” You lift off Eren, who almost seems reluctant to let you go. Both of them watch with hazy expressions as his creamy load spills out of you and onto his lap.

The room is musty with the scent of sex, the sheets messy and stained beneath you. Despite that, you’re on cloud nine, soaring high from having the nastiest ménage á trois with your next-door neighbors.

Maybe you should try getting stood up more often.

#eren smut #reiner smut #eren x reader #eren x you #eren jaeger #eren jaeger x reader #eren jaeger x you #eren jaeger smut #eren yeager smut #reiner x you #reiner x reader #reiner braun smut #reiner braun x reader #reiner braun x you #aot smut #aot x reader #to all the boys who live next door #anthology series #eren x reader x reiner

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sp0o0kylights · 7 months

Text

Whole thing on A03

It didn't matter how much Steve explained. Not one member of the Party was going to get it.

Tommy and Carol would, but then, they were no longer on speaking terms. A fact that hurt even if it was for the best--particularly in times like these, because they got it.

They understood how he had been ensnared with the very same wealth people mocked him for. What it meant when his parents demanded Steve drop everything and go on vacation, his own plans be damned.

They knew, because their families had done much the same, and so the lives they led also were tethered to leashes made of their parents' design.

Dustin, whose mother bent over backwards to try and better her kid’s life, didn’t even have a frame of reference for this kind of thing, let alone sympathy.

"Do they not understand you have a job?" Dustin asked incredulously, and Steve didn't have the emotional bandwidth to explain that his parents didn't consider working at Family Video to be a real job.

As far as they were concerned, Steve could quit if he had to, and then go find another job when they were done using him to play the nice, All-American family.

Likely for business purposes.

"They aren't the type to care." Steve said instead.

It was easier than getting into it.

(Easier than explaining the BMW wasn't in his name, but his parents.

How his money went into a bank account they had access to.

That practically everything he owned was actually owned by Richard and Stella Harrington, and both were quick to remind him of that fact the second they felt Steve was acting out of line.

And boy, had he been acting out of line.

Getting into fights.

Turning their punishment of working a job they picked specifically for the humiliating outfit, into the far worse public embarrassment of being involved in a mall fire--an embarrassment because Steve had "lost" the keys to the BMW, had "put himself in danger" playing hero instead of letting the perfectly capable firefighters do it, then “paraded around” with bruises all over his face, racking up medical bills.

Truly a sin for someone who hadn’t made it into college.)

So no, this vacation they demanded Steve drop everything for was not anything close to a reward, or even something they were doing to spend time together. There was a reason they needed Steve, and as far as they were concerned, Steve was at their beck and call until he shaped up and got his life back on track.

His own plans be damned.

"That's not fair though!" Dustin burst out and Steve sighed in relief, because here at least, he knew what to do to distract his younger friend.

“We planned our trip months ago!” Dustin continued, looking two seconds away from giving in and stomping his foot.

The kid might have been smarter than Steve--smarter than most people really--by a hell of a lot, but he was still fourteen.

Smarts, Steve knew, didn't exactly equate to emotional intelligence, and it definitely didn't stop rampaging hormones.

Ice cream on the other hand, was a great aid in both areas.

"You better be making this up to us." Dustin threatened thirty minutes later, spoon wedged deep into a sundae. “We can’t do, like, half the stuff we were going to do without you!”

“I'm sure you guys didn’t need me to play ghost runners or whatever.” Steve said, but was quick to back down when Dustin nearly threw his spoon at him.

Rather than antagonizing him more, Steve dutifully raised his hand to put over his heart. "I swear on your mom that I’ll make it up to you.”

Dustin rolled his eyes, but otherwise, finally, let the whole thing go.

Stupidly, Steve thought this meant the worst was over.

He was wrong.

xXx

Mike hadn’t cared.

El and Will hadn’t really either, though both expressed some sadness that Steve wouldn’t be participating in the camping trip that the Party as a whole had been looking forward to for the past few months.

Erica had simply snapped at him, making him promise much the same as Dustin had that he would be making it up to her sometime in the future. Likewise, she had been bought off by ice cream (even if she insisted it didn’t count because Steve owed her ice cream anyways.)

Max was the surprising emotional standout.

"You can't tell them no?" She demanded, arms crossed over her chest.

Lucas was hovering awkwardly at her shoulder, shooting "what can you do?" vibes as hard as he could at Steve as his (currently on-again) girlfriend outright dressed the elder boy down; her shoulders creeping up higher and higher until she seemed to realize she was visually giving away her upset and forcibly relaxed them.

Unlike Dustin and Erica, her tirade was very out of character and Steve was growing more concerned by the second that something was wrong the more she spat at him.

“I mean for fucks sake, didn’t you tell them you had plans!?” She finished, eyes narrowed in rage.

Which was rich coming from someone whose stepdad had Billy Hargrove running all over town before he’d run off after the guy’s death, but then, Steve knew better than to bring all that up.

(The image of Max, unresponsive in the hospital with casts on almost every limb, was still too fresh.

Even now he didn’t like to push her, even if the Party as a whole did their best to take notice when one of them was isolating themselves again.

Max, though she was down to one crutch, was still inclined to use it as a weapon and very much enjoyed practicing her swings on people’s ankles.)

“I did indeed. They don’t care and they’re not giving me a choice, but for what it’s worth I am sorry.” Steve tried to keep his voice even and out of angry-shrieking range, and vaguely prayed it was working. “I swear, I will make it up to you guys, even if we have to go on a second camping trip.”

This was clearly not the correct thing to say.

Though judging by the murderous rage being aimed his way, Steve was pretty sure nothing short of “You know what you’re right, let me go tell my parents to fuck off!” would make Max happy.

“So you’re seriously just going to drop everything, all our plans, your job, us,” She took a very threatening step forward and despite her being a full foot shorter than him, Steve had to fight not to take a responding step back. “So you can go play rich boy in the Bahamas?”

“We’re not going to the Bahamas--” Steve tried, but was interrupted with a loud “ugh!” of disapproval.

“Whatever makes you happy, Steven.” Max spat, and then turned on her heel, storming off towards the rest of the Party (who had taken one look at Max’s face and fled into the arcade so she and Steve could “talk.”) “I’m sorry us peasants weren’t good enough to hang around!”

“Sorry man.” Lucas apologized quietly, on his way to run after Max.

Steve just scrubbed a hand through his hair and sighed.

xXx

“The kids are mad at you.” Nancy announced, appearing across the Family Video counter like a phantom.

Steve swore, nearly dropping his stack of VHS’s, while Robin (who had clearly seen Nancy approach) cackled at his fumble.

“Yeah, I did get that memo.” Steve said, after he stabilized his stack, safely moving them from his arms to the counter.

Nancy peered around them, her face giving away nothing. “It is kind of shitty to cancel at the last minute like that. We were relying on you to drive.”

An old fury shook itself awake in Steve’s chest, taking an interest in the conversation the second Steve realized what Nancy was here to do.

He took a deep, shuddering breath, and pressed it down, back into the box he’d slammed it in all those years ago.

“I’d leave the keys to Robin here, but unfortunately, someone failed their drivers test.” Steve said instead, jamming his finger over his shoulder and blatantly attempting to pass the buck.

Robin, who absolutely knew that was what he was doing, faked a gasp and kicked at his ankles.

“That crotchety asshole failed me on purpose!” She protested, spinning to face Nancy. “He made like, three misogynistic comments before we even got in the car!”

“Pointing out that he knew the car wasn’t yours wasn’t misogynistic, he was just surprised to see me letting you use the Beemer.” Steve shot back, rolling his eyes. “I don’t exactly let a lot of people drive it.”

Unspoken was that Steve’s BMW was one of the town’s more unique cars, and thus easily identifiable by the locals at large.

“How is that better!?” Robin returned, but Nancy cleared her throat before they could successfully get the Steve-and-Robin show on the road.

“The point is that we--but really, the kids, were counting on you.” Nancy said, dipping into her patented “I’m upset with you” tone.

A year ago it would have cut Steve to the bone, even if he didn’t show it.

Now he just stared tiredly at her back.

“I’m sorry, Nance, but it is what it is.” He said simply, hoping the apology (even if he knew it wasn’t so much a real apology as it was something he said to keep the rage from breaking out and wrecking havoc via his mouth) would soften his ex. “I don’t know what else to tell you.”

Given the abrupt narrowing of her eyes, it very much did not help his case.

“For someone who was so vocal about trying to change I have to say this is pretty disappointing.” Nancy said simply, but with just enough of a tone that Steve had to close his eyes for a second.

Feel the way that old anger, the one that had powered King Steve, hit the bars of its cage.

Robin stilled immediately next to him, her head ping-ponging between Steve and Nancy both as she too, clocked that Nancy was pissed, and here to chew Steve out about it.

“Um.” She said, voice going high in discomfort.

Steve grit his teeth. “I don’t exactly get a say in these things, Nancy. You know that.”

He had to work to keep his voice even, fighting against the ice that wanted to sharpen his own tone.

It was just---Nancy did know.

Steve had told her all those years ago, in the safety of her arms, about his parents' expectations. Their predetermined path, the way they dictated large swathes of his life.

How they’d allowed him to pick which sports he played, but required that he play a sport no matter the time of year.

That the pool they had installed wasn’t for him, he just got to use it as much as he did in part because he’d joined the swim team, and the kind of mental mind games he and his parents played about things like that.

Apparently either Nancy had forgotten, or simply hadn’t taken it in to begin with because she wasn’t backing down.

(Not that Steve had ever seen Nancy Wheeler back down.)

“I know you have trouble juggling your parents' plans with your own.” Nancy said, and her tone was absolutely icy now. “I certainly remember waiting for a date that never happened.”

Steve sucked in a breath through his teeth, knowing immediately what Nancy was referring to.

“I told you they came home unexpectedly.” He said, arms now crossed against his chest, nails digging into his arms as a way to help himself stay grounded. “They wouldn’t let me use the phone until the next day and I apologized.”

“And I recall having a lovely conversation with your mother where she said otherwise.” Nancy said, her words punctuated by another high pitched “Uhhhh.” from Robin.

“Funny how you believe my mom over me.” Steve said and whoops, yup, he definitely sounded mad now.

So much for all the effort he’d put in to staying calm.

“Because I look at actions, Steve. Patterns. The same ones you kept repeating.” Nancy was clearly about to escalate, and Robin, bless her, had had enough.

“He-eeey.” She said, wedging herself in between Steve and the counter Nancy was starting to lean over. “I totally get it, you’re both upset, but this maybe isn’t the venue to fight about it? There are customers in the store and--sorry Nancy--but I do kinda need Steve for work, so…”

She trailed off, glancing nervously between the two of them.

Nancy took a breath, blasting it out of her mouth like an academically inclined dragon. “You’re right. I’m sorry Robin.”

She then turned on her heel, making her way to the doors. She paused before them, and Steve prepared himself because he knew whatever she was going to say next, it was going to hurt.

“I wouldn’t care if it was just me, Steve, but the kids don’t deserve you pulling this shit. Not after all they’ve been through.” With that, Nancy pushed through the door, head held high as she stormed to her car.

As was typical for Nancy’s aim, she scored a direct hit.

Steve, somehow, resisted throwing things.

“Can you believe her!?” He said, the second the doors were closed and Nancy safely out of eyeshot. “Coming in here like that!?”

He ran his hand through his hair, once, twice.

A third time for good measure.

“Yeah, that was seriously public for her.” Robin agreed, sliding up next to him. “Like really public.”

Steve shrugged, because well. Not really.

Not anymore.

But Robin didn’t know that, just like Robin wasn’t entirely familiar with the depths Steve’s parents went to save face. They hadn’t exactly had time to really dig into it all, given how fast the Vecna situation had hit after Starcourt and the sheer PTSD both incidents had caused.

Most nights they spent together was spent trying to avoid reliving nightmares, not discussing ones they were currently still living in.

A fact that Steve was more than happy to bring her up to speed on, but to do so involved a lot of backstory, and backstory involved Nancy, and God, he was fucking pissed at Nancy.

Soon it was an hour into his rant and he hadn’t actually gotten around to the sheer level of shit his parents would pull, too busy with Nancy and old echoes of ‘bullshit.’

He only stopped when Robin put a hand on his shoulder, shaking him ever so slightly.

“Dingus. You know I love you, and I know you’ve changed, but you do gotta admit, canceling at the last minute is kinda shitty and I get why they’re upset.”

It was like the carpet had been pulled right out from under Steve, yanked so quickly he’d have to pinwheel to keep his feet.

“What?” He said, eyes round in sheer surprise.

“I just mean like, I get your parents are dicks but,” Robin’s face screwed up, looking like she’d sucked a lemon. It was her “I’m going to say something you don’t like face” and it hit Steve like a punch to the gut.

“Our shift’s almost over and no offense, you’ve started to repeat yourself about Nance, and I get it! I do, memory shit is hard!” Robin’s hands moved as she talked, her bracelets jingling as if punctuating her point.

“But I also think admitting you double booked yourself on accident and just taking responsibility for it would help smooth things over. Middle ground, you know?” Robin waggled her hands in a gesture that, for the first time in a long time, Steve didn’t understand.

He found himself suddenly struggling to breathe.

“Are you--are you saying you think I didn’t tell them I had a trip already planned?”

Steve wasn’t sure how he managed to get it out. Wasn’t sure how he was doing anything, given the heat that was shooting through him, a hot mix of confusion and betrayal as Robin fidgeted to his left.

“No! Okay well,” The lemon face got worse for a second. “I’m just saying you did kinda forget to pick me up that one time, and you do kinda blame your parents when stuff like that happens.” She bit a nail, peering at him out of the corner of her eyes.

“I don’t--” Steve said, completely knocked adrift. “I…”

Robin didn’t believe him.

His Robin.

Who wasn’t--wasn’t exactly siding with Nancy, but wasn’t saying she was wrong either, or that she understood that this shit was out of his control, and in fact, was kind of implying that Nancy was right more so than Steve was and---and--

There was a ringing in Steve’s ears he wasn’t sure actually existed.

“I’m sure a lot of it is your brain injury. The doctors said your short term memory can take a while to fully come back and I totally get why you don’t wanna say that, I just, I think it would be better if--Steve?” Robin jumped back as Steve finally found his footing, swiping his jacket and punching out before she could catch how badly his hands were shaking.

“I’m leaving.” Steve told her, his own words a million miles away, entirely uncaring if Keith fired him.

Keith was likely going to fire him anyway, given Steve was about to ask for a week-long vacation not even four months after the whole Vecna ordeal.

“Wait, Steve, hey--Dingus! I wasn’t done, I mean, I had more to say I, dammit Steve--!” Robin called after him frantically as Steve bolted for the door.

Steve ignored her, aiming for the Beemer and swinging himself numbly into the driver's seat when he got it open.

Put the car in park and avoided Robin’s face entirely as he backed it out, punching the gas far harder than he needed to.

The Beemer roared in response, nose rising as it shot forward.

Robin was his best friend. His fucking--platonic soulmate, as she kept calling him. The very idea that she agreed with Nancy in general was a blow but in this?

Against his parents?

Nausea rolled angrily in Steve’s stomach, matching the sudden wetness that coated his eyes.

Angry and needing an outlet, Steve stomped hard on the gas, taking the next corner far too sharp and making the beemer fishtail, tires squealing .

He didn’t know where he was going.

He figured he’d find out when he got there.

xXx

Given what Steve knew about the universe at large, (nevermind Hawkins) it probably wasn’t the smartest thing to hang around the Quarry at night.

But then, summer was in full swing. Kids were home from college and itching to find a place to party without parental overhead.

Deep to the left side of the water, around a few bends and tucked oh so neatly out of sight, was a place where one could do just that.

Party.

This stretch had long been claimed by the college kids of Hawkins, and guarded zealously for it.

With the sheer number of drunk people whooping and hollering around the bonfires below the ridge where everyone parked their cars, Steve figured he was safe enough.

Even if he was up with said cars, sitting alone.

Not like it mattered. If a demodog or demogorgan or demo-fucking-dragon decided to come along, Steve had half a mind to just let it have him.

It felt easier than trying to fix the current mess his life was in.

So he sat up here, blowing through the alcohol he’d purchased from the one gas station that never carded, drinking his problems away.

(That also wasn’t the best course of action but with his parents home to spring the whole “vacation” ordeal on him, it wasn’t like Steve had a choice.)

He hadn’t grabbed a lot--had been so damn upset and struggling to hide it that he’d picked up a four pack of wine coolers instead of the intended beer he’d wanted. It was all he had though, and so he chugged the last bottle with a wince and wished he was a hell of a lot drunker than he felt.

Then promptly caught sight of the person walking towards him, and wondered vaguely if he was drunker than he felt.

Of all the people to come and offer him a can of beer, Steve would have never expected Tommy Hagan.

He eyed it and his old friend both, before slowly reaching out and taking the can.

“Heard you and your parents are doing CoHo this year.” Tommy said casually, leaning up against the front of the Beemer like it was old times.

“Yup.” Steve replied, drawing the word out.

“Angie Tideman’s parents are going, they’re bringing her ith .” Tommy said it casually, and had the good graces not to grin when Steve audibly groaned.

“Oh god.”

Tommy sucked on a lip, nodding absently. “Yeah.”

Then; “It gets worse.”

Steve, who now knew what this conversation was about, instantly began tearing into the beer can. “How can it get worse? You know what Angie’s like.”

Angie, whose full name was Angelina, lived a few towns over. Born to wealthy parents who doted on their beloved only child, Angie had more in common with your average shark than she did her fellow humans.

A comparison that, frankly, was unkind to sharks.

She was without a doubt the most selfish person Steve had ever had the misfortune of encountering, and the mere idea of being trapped in a room with her made his skin crawl.

Their parents were business buddies though, and god forbid he ever insult a business buddies kid,

“She goes to Purdue, you know, with me and Carol.” Tommy said, instead of answering directly. “We cross paths a lot, party wise.”

Steve stayed silent.

Knew how Tommy talked, how his stories meandered. Especially the juicy ones.

“She’s been talking a lot recently. Given you don’t look all that informed, I’m gonna assume the one person she hasn’t talked to is you.”

Steve gripped the can of beer, a sudden, sick fear blooming in his gut.

“Tommy.” He said mildly, not loud enough to really interrupt, but with enough force to let his former friend know to get to the point, now.

“Got all super fancy right before we left for summer break. Hair done, whole new wardrobe, nails, you know.” Tommy waggled his fingers playfully, but dropped them when Steve just stared. “Went full whore on us. I swear she was making out with any guy who even looked at her--”

“Tommy.” He repeated, this time a hell of a lot firmer.

Done pushing, Tommy let go of the proverbial bombshell. “Apparently you’re planning on proposing to her this summer. She’s gonna return next year as an engaged woman, with you in tow, because apparently, you got into Purdue. Congrats by the way.”

Tommy clapped him on the shoulder, right as Steve’s mouth went dry.

For the second time that day, he found himself fighting the burning heat of embarrassment and fury as it rolled through him.

“I’m proposing.” Steve said, as if saying it out loud would scare the very idea away. “To Angie.”

“Yeah we kinda figured you didn’t know.” Tommy said with a snide little grin. To the average outsider it was mocking, but Steve knew better.

Tommy was uncomfortable, because Tommy had understood what Steve’s parents had done.

“What I’d like to know is just how much Angie’s parents paid to get you into Purdue. That’s gotta be a minimum fifty thousand dollar donation at least.” Tommy removed his hand, to instead lean his shoulder against Steve’s. Like this was the old times, before they’d fought. “ I didn’t think they had that kind of money to throw around.”

A past conversation with his father struck Steve, running through the front of his mind like a bad horror movie.

“They sold the estate.” Steve said vacantly, the implications not quite hitting. “The one they’ve been trying to get rid of forever, over in Cape Cod.”

“Oh shit.” Tommy said, blinking as he too, recalled what was likely his father telling him the very same news.

“They sold the place on Cape Cod, and they used part of the funds to fucking buy me like a toy.” And yeah, saying it out loud, it definitely sounded bad. “I didn’t think Angie even liked me.”

“Does Angie like anyone?” Tommy asked, incredulously, but nudged Steve’s shoulder again when his joke didn’t net him the laugh he wanted.. “I mean, you had to know your old man had plans to straighten you out. He keeps getting mad at my dad, because the ass won't stop making jokes that I’m going to take over the company instead of you.”

“And this is it. Attaching me to Angie.” Steve said vacantly. “Because they know if I get married…”

He’d put his wife first. His family, first.

The one he’d wanted, dreamed of, since he first realized he didn’t have one.

He’d been playing checkers the entire time, too busy fighting fucking monsters and Russians to realize his parents had upgraded to chess.

In a dizzying array of mental connect-the-dots, Steve replayed the last years worth of conversations. All the odd little things they’d said. All the dumb things Steve had just ignored.

They’d warned him.

Had told him he better shape up, or they’d be forced to do something drastic.

That his parents hadn’t wasted all this time, effort, money on him, for him to throw away his life like he was.

“You better start acting right and figuring out how to get your life back on track, because you won’t like what happens if I have to fix it for you. You get a month Steven, and after that? Well. Just remember you forced my hand, Steven.”

They knew. They knew him, and what made him tick.

“I think the real question is what Angie’s parents see in you.” Tommy teased, but then they both knew the answer to that puzzle.

For all that Steve’s mom complained about her husband, the guy was a shrewd and calculating businessman. Those weekends, then weekdays, then more and more time away hadn’t just been so he could go screw his secretary.

Richard Harrington had fast tracked his business to the point where it was now getting attention. The business journal, ‘Top 50 Companies to Watch’ kind.

Even if Steve fucked up entirely, he was set to inherit a fortune and a business that would continue adding to it, for some time to come.

Provided he did what his parents wanted.

Such as marrying Angie.

Thing was, if his parents did what they always did, and held their wealth (his car, his home, his life and all the little things in it) against him like a gun to his head, if Angie got that ring around her finger?

Steve would bow to their whims.

Because they could fluster him into proposing so he didn’t embarrass Angie, and her parents and anyone else who’d undoubtedly be watching. They’d make a spectacle of it.

Because once he did propose, they wouldn’t let him back out, burying him under guilt trips and veiled threats until he was marched down the aisle in a groomsman suite and told to stand.

Because against all common sense, Steve wanted a family who loved him so desperately he’d chase it like a dog if he was presented with the opportunity and told to make it work.

It didn’t matter that Angie was selfish.

Steve would try anyway.

His parents were maneuvering him as easily as they had back when he was a kid, using love as a tool to get him to do what they wanted and even seeing the nose hanging from the rafters, they knew just the right words to get him to place it around his neck.

“Thought you’d wanna know.” Tommy finished, pushing himself off Steve’s car. “Before your parents sprung it on you.”

“Sonofabitch.” Steve hissed angrily, a million thoughts racing through his head, the heat of being caught in a trap blasting down his spine.

“Yeah.” Tommy added, rather unhelpfully. “But hey, given that you’re about to go on vacation to propose, why don’t we consider this,” here Tommy swept his hand, gesturing to the party below, “your proposal party?”

It was a downright horrible idea.

But then, Steve didn’t exactly have a better one.

Not when the world itself seemed against him, grinding its heel into his back and laughing about it.

He knew the drill. If he went down there, arm in arm with Tommy, then it wouldn’t matter that half those kids were from a few towns over, driven in by new college buddies.

They’d see him as a reason to get wild, absolutely uncaring that they didn’t know who the hell he was.

Steve needed that.

People who weren’t mad at him, buying into the easy lies his parents wove, or who didn't understand the games played against him.

“Fuck it.” He announced, standing up from the hood of his car as Tommy’s grin morphed into something he used to see in the days of old, back when they were sneaking drinks from their parents' alcohol cabinets. “This way at least I get a party.”

Not like his parents were going to let him have an engagement party. Or a bachelor party, or likely let his ass back into Hawkins.

No matter how long the engagement.

Tommy cheered, raising his arms to the sky and Steve grinned wildly with him.

He’d figure out how to get out of all this later--but for now, he wanted just a few damn hours where he didn’t have to think.

Not about his parents, or Angie, or possible attempts to force him into marriage, like this was the yee olden days and Steve was a Victorian maiden who needed to be brought to heel.

Likewise he didn’t want to think about the Party, or Russian torture, or how Nancy could be so damn smart in some things and downright stupid in others.

He absolutely didn't want to think about Robin.

“Hey boys and girls, look who I drug up!” Tommy yelled as they approached and soon, word had spread.

This was Steve’s proposal party, and he was here to get absolutely smashed (while encouraging everyone else to do the exact same, in his honor.)

Which would be how Eddie found him a few hours later.

Still at the quarry, crossfaded off his ass, a forty in one hand and a lawn dart in the other.

“Are you kidding me, Steve?” Eddie grit out, desperately trying to wrestle the lawn dart out of his hand. “You’re fucking partying with Tommy Hagan!?”

Steve blinked at him a few times, finally catching on that Eddie was in fact, actually there.

“When did you show up?” He asked, though given the wince on Eddie’s face and just how hard it had been to move his lips, Steve correctly assumed he’d slurred the shit out of the question.

Somehow, Eddie understood him anyway.

“Robin called me a while ago, gave me a list of places you might be. Almost skipped this one until I stepped out of my van to take a piss and heard the party.” Eddie explained, and somehow while doing so, he’d successfully gotten a hold of the dart.

He was now working on removing the 40 ounce.

Steve frowned, using his newly freed hand to grip it closer to his chest.

“Harrington.” Eddie warned, and oh, wow, they were back to last names huh?

Well why not, it wasn't like his night could get worse.

“This is mine, Munson.” Steve fired back, putting as much vitriol into Eddie’s last name as he could.

This did not detour the metalhead.

“Come on man, give me the bottle.” Eddie said firmly.

Steve shook his head stubbornly, enjoying the way his hair whipped at his face. “No.”

Another man stumbled over, a guy Steve absolutely did not know. He frowned, looking between Eddie and Steve.

For two seconds, Steve thought they might have trouble, and given the way Eddie was tensing, he clearly thought so too.

Instead, New Guy just kind of rocked on his heels. “Hey, shove off it, buddy. It’s this guy's bachelor party, let the man drink!”

Eddie’s face did something complicated then, pulling the sort of expressive looks only he could manage.

It was both adorable and hilarious, and if Steve hadn’t just been reminded of the very reason he was drinking, he’d have told Eddie so.

“Yeah!” He said instead, raising his hand in the air, toasting his bottle of forty against the other guy’s red solo cup. “It’s my proposalengagmentbachelor party!”

Given the second, adorable-slash-hilarious look on Eddie’s face, Steve assumed those words hadn’t come out right either.

“Okay.” Eddie said hands on his hips in a stance Steve was pretty sure Eddie had gotten from him. “Here’s what's going to happen. You’re going to put the bottle away. Then you’re going to give me your car keys, and then the two of us are going to my house to sleep whatever is happening here, off.”

At least, that's what Steve thought he heard. It was a pretty un-Eddie like speech, and Steve maybe, might have been the one to say it, because he maybe, might have been mocking what Eddie had actually said.

Maybe.

It was hard to know, given that Steve’s thoughts were a thick soup on a bit of a time delay, and he was having a hard time figuring up from down, let alone what Eddie had been actually saying.

Speaking of;

“When did I get into your car?” Steve asked, blinking as the van’s passenger seat appeared before him.

“Just now.” Eddie said, helping him in.

“Huh.” Said Steve, and then he maybe passed out a bit, because once again, he found himself awake and alert at a place that wasn’t where he’d just been.

“Come on.” Eddie said gently, one of Steve’s arms over his shoulder as Steve leaned heavily into him, guiding the jock up the stairs and into the small house he and Wayne now called a home.

The guy might have muttered a few things about bachelor parties along the way, but Steve was too focused on walking straight to really take notice.

Part Two

#lol remember when I said I wasnt posting parts to stuff until they were finished #THAT SURE LASTED LONG #pre steddie #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #0o0 fanfics #This is very Steve focused #TW his horrible parents #VERY hurt #comforts later #with eddie!#I really wanted to explore Steves Parents #in proper Rich Asshole Controling fashion #TW forced marriage #or mentions of #I also wanted to explore a lot of how the kids #and Nancy and Robin (who are also STILL kids #would react because sure they came up against monsters and the government #but neither of those things want you to like them #theyll let you know theyll eat you #Steves parents #like many rich dicks #want to isolate #want you to think theyre amazing #and its often the inner circle who knows whats up but are also caught in their own chokechain #hence the title of this fic #whiiiich is chokechain #stranger things #tw drinking

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steddiecameraroll · 7 months

Text

both POVs on ao3

Eddie comes to a skidded stop outside the sailor themed ice cream shop. His Sam Goody bag slams into his shin from the sudden movement.

“Ow, shit.” He winces but tries to ignore the pointed pain from the corner of one of his brand new tapes poking his leg, and stares ahead at what he imagines must be an illusion.

Steve The Hair Harrington has his arm deep into some chocolate looking concoction, and suddenly Eddie wants to taste it. He’s not even much of an ice cream guy but this he cannot pass up.

Like a siren’s song, the little polyester shorts the sailor man is wearing calls to Eddie. He wonders if he could slide both of his hands up through the bottom of the legs.

Eddie steps into the bright lights and his ears fill with some ridiculous theme music. He wonders if Steve has ever tried to disembowel the sound system. Eddie would help him if he wanted assistance.

“Ahoy there!”

Eddie stands back watching Steve interact with a group of old classmates. He recognizes the young women from a couple of his classes last semester. Steve’s clearly flirting with them and missing by a mile.

Eddie hates to admit, even to himself, watching Steve fumble brings a smidge of joy to his heart. He may not be delusional and think that means he has a chance with Steve, but it does give him some kind of weird twinkle of hope anyway.

Right after the gaggle of women walk away, Eddie sees Steve lower his head and bang it gently on the countertop causing his adorable little hat to slip from his head.

“Buck up sailor boy,” Eddie grabs Steve’s hat and spins it around his finger.

Steve jolts and stands up, gawking at Eddie. “Munson? What are you…that’s my hat.” Steve snatches the regulated uniform accessory from Eddie’s finger and clutches it in his hand.

Eddie lets his eyes drag down the part of Steve’s body not hidden by the countertop, before flicking back to Steve’s face.

“Love the outfit, by the way. Really finishes off the whole ambiance.” Eddie wiggles his fingers around the space emphasizing the environment.

“I know it’s ridiculous, dude. You don’t have to rub it in.” Steve puts his hand on his hip and cocks his weight onto the opposite foot.

“Oh no, you misconstrue, my good man.” Eddie leans further into his hands coming closer to Steve’s face. “If I’m rubbing anything, it wouldn’t be your uniform.”

Eddie enjoys watching a beautiful blush rush up Steve’s neck onto his cheeks, before he diverts his attention onto the display case of flavors, giving Steve a moment to collect himself.

“What do you recommend?” Eddie runs his fingertip lazily across the glass.

“Um…” Steve takes a quick breath before putting on his customer service smile. “The USS Butterscotch is a favorite or the cherry’s jubilee. What do you usually get when you eat ice cream?”

“Wanna know a secret?” Eddie playfully whispers while leaning over the case.

“Um, ok.” Steve leans in closer.

“I’m more of a salty treat kinda man,” he winks, surprising himself with the weird level of confidence he’s slipped into.

Steve furrows his brows before leaning away and nervously scratching the back of his neck. He tries to chuckle in response as if understanding what Eddie’s implying but Eddie can tell Steve has no idea what he’s talking about.

“Well, then maybe-um-a parfait? Peanut butter? Or nuts…something with nuts?”

Eddie bites on his bottom lip trying to stifle a childish giggle keeping his eyes on the naive, adorable, sailor man. When Steve’s words finally register in his brain he awkwardly swallows hard, and shuffles on his feet trying to busy himself with something behind the counter.

“I could go for some nuts.” Eddie leans on his arms over the case. “What kinda nuts do you have, Stevie?”

“Um, just- y’know- normal ones. What kind do you like?” Eddie tracks the slow swipe of Steve’s tongue across his bottom lip.

Eddie lowers his voice before responding. “I’m sure I’d like anything you give me, captain.”

“Jesus,” Steve quietly huffs. “Uh, how about our peanut butter brickle topped with our candied almonds?”

Eddie keeps his eyes on Steve tracking his awkward movements behind the counter. Steve spins his scooper mindlessly in his palm, trying to channel his nervous energy.

“Sounds delicious. I’ll have one of those. Is there a show or anything I get with my treat?”

“A show?” Steve asks while grabbing a parfait cup from the stack on the countertop.

“Was just curious if there’s some kind of song or dance you have to perform in this adorable little outfit. Y’know, like that one restaurant in Chicago, Ed Debevic’s?”

Steve scrunches his nose and slides open the glass case. “I don’t know what that is.”

“Really? It’s this 50’s diner place where the staff are dicks. Nothing? Really?”

Steve shakes his head while reaching his arm deep into the ice cream tub. Eddie lowers his face to watch Steve through the glass. He wonders how sticky Steve is at the end of a shift.

“Is there a shower back there?”

“What?”

"In the back. Was just curious if you go home sticky or not."

"Um...no, I mean yes I'm generally pretty sticky at the end of my shift, but there's no shower...in the back. There's not really anything back there. Only a table and some safety posters, a white board that Robin shames me with." He trails off and Eddie wishes he could see this white board.

"Shames you? Robin...?" He has a hunch but isn't sure.

"Buckley? From school."

"Yeaaahhh, that's what I thought. Good for her." He means it.

Steve scrunches his face while finishing off the disgustingly sweet display of tasty deliciousness.

“Anything else I can get for you?” Steve gives Eddie his best customer service smile while setting the ice cream on top of the case.

A wicked grin spreads across Eddie’s face. “Naw I’m good. Unless… there’s something available that’s not on the menu.”

Eddie knows Steve is naive. Has never once picked up on his blatant flirting over the years, or at least doesn’t let it rattle him. But this utter display of fantasy is rotting away at Eddie’s resolve, and he’s seconds away from asking to suck on Steve’s sticky fingers.

He leans in front of the register and looks up at Steve through his eyelashes.

Pretty pretty boy.

“Um,” Steve looks around the empty restaurant, and then glances at something over Eddie’s head before turning his attention back. “Y-yeah, there is actually.”

Eddie thinks maybe he’s about to choke on his tongue as he attempts to swallow, waiting for Steve to continue.

“It’s in the back. Um, in the-in the break room. Wanna see it? Maybe?”

The fluorescent lighting above makes the beautiful shade of pink Steve’s cheeks are, into a warm glow. Eddie thinks he might be hearing angels sing or maybe it’s the dumb sailor music, but whatever it is it’s definitely music to his ears.

“Yeeaaah, definitely need to see it. Maybe wanna taste it even.”

Steve’s mouth is parted prettily, making Eddie wonder if his own tongue could slide between them easily.

Steve nods and bites down on his bottom lip, while motioning Eddie to follow around the opening of the countertop.

“Cool, very cool.” Steve walks backwards keeping his eyes on Eddie.

When Eddie steps behind the counter, taking in the entire outfit, he can’t control the subtle groan that emanates from his chest.

He’s gonna fuck this sailor silly.

They reappear 17 min later to a puddle of melted peanut butter brickle, an annoyed Erica Sinclair, and a better understanding of Eddie’s love of nuts.

Steve’s POV now both POVs on ao3

coffee? ☕️🍩💕

#eluding to a bj #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie ficlet #steve x eddie #steddiecameraroll posts #my writing

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ddejavvu · 1 year

Note

hear me out... spencer reid with hickeys I can imagine him getting all nervous and reader just gives him like 20 on his neck and he puts on a scarf and the next day Morgan tugs it off and l o s e s it poor thing WHAHHA

"That's... a new look." Morgan raises an eyebrow at Spencer's purple scarf with a confused half-smile on his face, like he's trying to be supportive for Spencer's sake but doesn't know how.

"I'm cold." Spencer blurts, avoiding the man's eyes and staring down at his paperwork. He's a behavior analyst, he'd pick his mannerisms out as shady if anyone else did it, but he can't seem to appear casual for the life of him.

"Okay..." Morgan sits cautiously at his desk, "Something eating you, pretty boy? I know we're not supposed to profile each other and all, but you seem tense."

"Nothing's wrong." Spencer dismisses in that same clipped, tight tone.

"Right," Morgan drawls, "Okay."

There's a moment of awkward silence in which Spencer scrawls in information on the form he's looking at, and Derek stares at him.

Then he tries making peace, "Here, uh, lemme help you with that."

"With what?" Spencer wants to glance up, but doesn't want to see any hidden amusement in his coworker's eyes, "I know how to fill this out."

"No, I mean-" Derek reaches over his desk, fingers outstretched towards Spencer's neck, "The- scarf."

Spencer jerks away like Morgan's touch will sear his skin, eyes wide and panicked, 'No!"

"Reid," Morgan drawls, hand still stiff in the air, "What's your problem, man?"

"I- It's nothing." Spencer huffs, "I'm getting coffee."

He stalks off to the kitchen, but Morgan isn't deterred.

"Pretty boy," He calls, rushing to join Reid at the counter, "Listen, usually when people show up with a giant scarf on and don't let anyone touch it, they're hiding a hickey."

"I'm not hiding a hickey," Spencer pours sugar into his coffee by the pound, nearly emptying the container as he stirs it in, "I'm going to file a workplace harassment complaint against you if you don't stop."

"Sensitive," Derek marvels, keeping the hand that's creeping towards the back of Spencer's neck out of the man's line of sight. Then, quicker than Spencer can stop him, he grabs hold of the purple cloth and yanks, revealing that Spencer was telling the truth.

He's not hiding a hickey, he's hiding twenty hickies. Fifty, maybe, Derek can't tell because they run into each other like someone had sucked him like a leech.

He doesn't care about being dramatic; his jaw drops.

"Holy shit!" Derek whoops, holding the scarf over his head and pushing against Spencer's chest when the man tries taking it back, "You're- Jesus, did Dracula get to you? Oh my god," He laughs, not even bothering to quiet down as Hotch stalks in, a stern frown on his face at the noise level.

"Give it back," Spencer manages to overpower Derek, only because the man is too busy jeering to use his full strength. Spencer wraps himself tight in the scarf once more, avoiding Hotch's eyes as he finishes stirring his coffee.

"I've gotta go break the news," Derek rushes out, headed straight for Penelope's lair, "Babygirl!"

The silence in the kitchenette of the BAU is stifling, and if Spencer weren't hiding an army of hickies so dark that they nearly painted him purple all over, he'd take off his scarf for some relief. He's silent as he finishes stirring his coffee, and tries to drown out Penelope's excited shriek.

Hotch makes quick work of the coffee pot, and stands beside Spencer to put minimal cream into the substance. Before he leaves, while Spencer is still sugaring up his concoction, he clears his throat.

"Congratulations," He murmurs as he claps Spencer on the back once, nearly ramming the man into the cupboards he's weakly clinging to, "I have an old turtleneck somewhere that I can bring you, if this is gonna be a regular thing."

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid one-shot #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid headcanons #spencer reid headcanon #spencer reid hc #spencer reid hcs #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid dialogue #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader fanfiction

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bluehourbucky · 1 year

Text

My Mom Thinks You're Hot

pairing: beefy!bucky x singlemom!reader

summary: your son tries to set you up with an avenger in a grocery store

a/n: short drabble bc why not

masterlist

_______________________________________

Getting groceries might not be fun for most families but for you and your 6 year old son it's almost as fun as going to the park.

The store that you visit has small cart for kids which your son loves to push, making him feel like a big boy. It's absolutely adorable and you take a picture of him every time. You don't know how you got lucky that your son loves grocery shopping as most kids find it either boring or too stimulating which is completely normal.

"Mommy look it's Avengers cereal!"

As any other kid his age, he's obsessed with The Avengers.

"Yes it is and it's very cool but we already have cereal at home." his face falls and puts the cereal box back.

"Can we get it next time?"

"Of course honey." you chuckle when you see him do a little victory dance.

You were slowly but surely making your way through the grocery list, slowly because your son decided to stop in front every single Avengers food.

Now for your favourite.

Ice Cream.

You turn your head quickly when you hear your son squeal.

"MOMMY THE AVENGERS! CAPTAIN AMERICA! AND BUCKY!" He whisper yells

you look over to where he's pointing and it's true there stand Sam Willson and James Buchanan Barnes.

"Can we please say hi." he holds your hand and gives you his best puppy eyes. You give in since it's not every day you get to meet heroes.

"Hi! You're really cool!"

Two men look down at the 6 year old boy and smile.

"Hey champ,what's your name?" Captain America asks and crouches down to his eye level.

"That's such a cool name!"

"Thank you my mom chose it!" you immediately blush when both men look at you.

"Hi. We just wanted to say hi and uh thank you for saving the world and all that." you avoid looking at James Bucky Barnes because you might have a huge crush on him. Ever since you were a teen and studied for history you thought he was very handsome.

"All part of the job ma'am." Sam salutes you and you smile a little, he's the perfect Captain America.

"I have so many questions!"

"Honey, they are very busy we can't keep them all day. How about just one question for each of them? That's of course if you're okay with that." You look at two heroes,who reply with a nod

"Alright you heard your mom, what do you have."

He thinks so hard and finally asks.

"What's the name of your bird!?" Bucky bursts out laughing, that's not what he thought the boy would ask Sam. Your heart might have done a flip at the sound,you try to hide your face by looking at the floor.

"His name is Redwing."

"Well that's pretty boring why doesn't he have a cool name." At this the three of you laugh.

Sam looks mildly offended.

"What do you have for me?" Bucky asks and whatever he thought the boy would ask it certainly was not this.

"Mr Bucky sir - Do you have a girlfriend or boyfriend or partner? My mom thinks you're hot."

You immediately pull your son into you and cover his mouth. Bucky blushes deeply and so do you.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry. We have to go right now." You're so embarrassed that you leave your full cart and go straight for the exit pulling your son by the arm.

"But he didn't answer the question." your son whines.

"We don't need to know that. That's a personal question you don't ask people!"

"Uh I don't mind answering that question." Buckys voice says and you stop in your tracks, you turn around but still avoid the eye contact.

"Really you don't have to!"

"I want to. And I'd like to ask a personal question too if that's okay with you of course?"

Your knees almost give out when you manage to make eye contact.

"No, I do not have a significant other. And I don't know how this works at this day and age, but I'd like to ask for your number,doll."

_____________________________________

some years later

"Thank you for coming guest's that I know and don't know. My mom is getting married to my dad! You should all be thanking me because I made that happen!"

You look at your now husband and smile.

Maybe it's not the way you thought you'd meet the love of your life but sure is a story your guests and son find very entertaining.

#james buchanan barnes #bucky masterlist #bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky imagine #bucky barnes x reader #sebastian stan characters #bucky fluff #bucky fic

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orikiys · 7 months

Text

✿ ✿ 〞dating seventeen

✰ pairings: ot13!seventeen x fem!reader

✰ genre: tooth rotting fluff

✰ warnings: mentions of reader having a bad day in some, mentions of food. lemme know if you feel like there’s any more.

✰ word count: 2k + words

౨₊ৎ seungcheol

acts clingy. it’s usually him that initiates skinship and you wouldn’t find a single photo of the two of you without him hugging, leaning on you or simple just holding you. but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t like it when you initiate it. in fact he enjoys it so much but does not act like that sometimes because he feels too shy. after knowing him for quite a long time, you know it’s him when he keeps a hand over your back. or he simple has an arm wrapped around your waist or shoulders when he sits beside you. the most common is him laying on top of you when he returns home after a busy schedule.

“hey sweetheart,” he mumbles, pressing a kiss to your knuckles and plops down beside you. his arm eventually finding it’s way to you and pulling you in his embrace. “it was so tiring today, y’know?” he begins his rambles all the while keeping his hand firmly wrapped around your back.

౨₊ৎ jeonghan

he’s gentle and patient with you. to the outside world he may look short tempered, but with you it’s like he becomes a different personality. he’s so much more softer and often encourages you to talk resulting in him being the listener. his attentiveness, soft murmurs of appreciation and kisses on your jaw as he nuzzles his face in the crook of your neck— all of it leads to the way he never loses his calm around you, as well as his effort to not to.

“had a long day, angel?” he whispers, cupping your face and pressing his lips to your forehead for a few seconds before pulling away. he doesn’t let you reply, judging the way your eyes are already dropping and without a word he helps you do your night routine and tucks you in the bed, “sleep well, okay?” he mumbles trying to keep his voice no louder than what he could hear so he doesn’t end up waking you.

౨₊ৎ joshua

he tends to be observant. call it his nature, but. you’ll never find joshua bringing home a wrong order of your coffee or the flavour of ice cream you don’t like. he likes to take note of things you love and the ones you hate. he’s been doing this ever since the two of you started dating and it’s no wonder that he has now made nearly a foot long list. another habit of his is to call you when he’s dilemma. he thinks that whatever you say is right. he feel’s it your ‘woman instinct’ because when you do say something seriously, he will NEVER ignore it.

“i brought you your favourite sandwiches with some waffles! thought you’d need those,” his enthusiastic tone never fails to brighten the days and his eyes— that trail over your face and the way he knows exactly how you’re feeling just by the lowering of your eyebrows; is all too familiar. and he'd also know when you're not feeling so good. he’ll tend to caress your hair and press you close to his chest while he asks you what's wrong.

౨₊ৎ jun

he may not seem like it, but he loves to pester you in the public or around friends while calling you cheesy nicknames, he does cringe at himself later on. he’ll be doing nothing and will still manage to think about things he’ll plan to say to you when he meets you. he loves cracking jokes even though they’re lame just to get a reaction out of you and he feels prideful when he manages to make you laugh. he thinks it’s one of the best unmatched feelings in the world.

“hey sugar,” he whistles and takes a seat beside you, a scoff escaping your lips which later turns into laughter when he tickles you hard. he stares at you in the eye for a minute or so before looking away because he still can’t hold the eye contact as you still manage to make him nervous.

౨₊ৎ hoshi

is your number one hype boy. he never, i repeat, never fails to give you random aggressive compliments throughout the day. and on days when you feel self-conscious he’ll use his pretty little brain to form words that do nothing but only encourage you. call him even at 3am, he’ll pick up the calls because it’s you ( it’s giving priorities ). loves gifting you things randomly at alternate days or whenever he finds something that reminds you of him and when you ask him why, he always replies with a ‘there’s never a bad day for gifts.’

“baby how come you look so beautiful?” he says those words so casually that it makes you speechless. he says those while staring at you through the mirror. one hand on the chair you sit while the other is on your shoulder. he looks at you with so much love, he treats you with so much love that you don’t think you could love anyone else like you love him.

౨₊ৎ wonwoo

when i say he’s protective, i mean the kind of protective that always holds on to your hand in crowded places, where he makes sure to blow on the food twice before feeding it to you or one where he simply just ties your hair when your hands are full. but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t know his limits. he’s the kind of boyfriend that gives you space when you need and supports your decisions. he always has your back, so there’s no need to worry. regardless of what happened, he’ll always be there for you and listen to you when you want him to.

“did you eat?” he shakes his head in disappointment at your answer before pulling out a pan. “try it,” he suggest a few minutes later and blows on the spoon before feeding it to, his finger immediately wiping the spill off the corner of your lips and he gives you that chuckle when you stare at him for too long. “you shouldn’t skip meals next time, okay?” he mutters as he watches you dig into the food.

౨₊ৎ woozi

this man right here might be the busiest, but he always ensures that he has enough time for you especially when you need him. he would just be working on a track with you sitting on the couch behind him and talking to him, telling him about things that were troubling you and he will not hesitate to pause and turn around before listening intently.

“come here,” he says while pulling you to his office chair and making you sit on his lap the koala style. he rocks your back while peppering your face with kisses just to cheer you up. maintains his patience around you and encourages you talk more freely with him.

౨₊ৎ dokyeom

the type of boyfriend to intentionally match with you while going on a date and later pretending to hate it. loves buying matching jewellery for the two of you and he feels so happy when he sees you wear something he gifted you. it makes him feel that there’s a part of him that’s always with you. another thing he’ll do is randomly grab your hand and kiss it whenever he feels like it.

“morning my love,” he mumbles and pulls you closer to his embrace even though he is still half-asleep. he would then caress your face with a soft smile and would insist on staying in rather than going out on the weekends. he says it’s his favourite place.

౨₊ৎ mingyu

feeds you with his love and handmade food, these are his two main love languages. he’d cook you breakfast in bed no matter how your day is going but in hopes that it gets happier and better because of him. mingyu is a man who loves skinship and won’t hesitate to do so in public as well. always remembers what you like or don’t, and gives you all his attention when you’re talking, no matter how boring the topic is, you’ll never find his eyes away from your face while you talk.

“really?” he hums questionably while brushing your hair as you rant to him about all the incidents that happened. his touch is soft like a feather yet knowing it’s him it's enough to make you feel at ease.

౨₊ৎ minghao

i feel like with hao the two of you have intimate moments quite often. be it randomly taking walks at night or sharing a tub of ice cream, the two of you never fail to stay on your own anr often end up inviting the other one over. your favourite dates are watching movies with him all night long in your bed and just having a good laugh or cry depending on the genre. hao is a person who would trust his partner wholeheartedly. so he isn’t afraid to show you his vulnerable side and that he does like being babied.

“i like this ice cream,” he hums in delight while sending you a grin, making you grin back just as enthusiastically. there’s a mischievous glint on his face as he tackles you to the couch before tickling you till your lungs burst out of immense joy.

౨₊ৎ seungkwan

while seungkwan does like to joke around pretty often and imitate you frequently ( almost every other hour ) he is a supportive partner. he won’t hesitate to listen carefully and give his opinions and provide suggestions. when in doubt, seungkwan is always there for you. at times it might be hard to talk to him because the topic might be sensitive to you, but seungkwan knows you well. he’ll give you time or just give you a hug and stay like that as you talk. it’s nothing in this world that he’d want other than you being comfortable with talking out your problems with him

“i’m sorry, did you have a bad day?” he mutters as he watches you stomp your way to the couch. wordlessly, he follows you before sitting beside you and just takes your hand in his. “do you want to talk about it?”

౨₊ৎ vernon

vernon is a guy of few words. or so you thought. once you get to know him well you can’t help but laugh at even the lamest jokes that he says. he’s like a mood setter. always improving your mood everyday. although there are times where you fail to understand each other, bur vernon makes sure to sit down and discuss everything calmly.

“what does a house wear?” he begins making you groan and before he could finish the joke he starts laughing, “address! this one’s funny,” he wipes away that tear and it’s hard to hold in your laugh when you make eye contact. it’s like an immediate response and you can’t help but smack his knee for it.

౨₊ৎ dino

being the youngest he always did feel like he had some kind of responsibility and it’s been the exact same in your relationship. when you’re with him, dino is extremely careful. he’ll make sure to wear a jacket so he can give it to you when you’re cold. he shows his affection by giving you handmade gifts like letters, paper flowers, chocolate boxes and on days like valentines’ be prepared for a whole bunch of boxes all for you.

“i told you to not to wear heels,” he pouts a bit as he applies bandages to your bruised up heels. when he’s done he pretends to be angry and huffs loudly but fails to do so and ends up ruffling your hair more affectionately than you expected.

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