#You’re the only bitch in this house I ever respected

[baylara]

mean girls pt.i

sororitysisters!katseye x fem!reader

a/n: title has nothing to do with the song but it fits the story so that’s what we’re going with :) this is the first chapter of sorority!katseye. pt.ii is done and focused on manon, which should be up in a couple days. i picked a random sorority i found online and went with it for the sake of having a name. i know absolutely nothing about it so it won’t be accurate in that regard!

summary: you’ve recently joined the university’s Alpha Chi Omega chapter and your sorority sisters are making it very difficult for you to want to stay.

warnings: 18+ only, sorority au, everyone is a little mean to reader except for megan, suggestive material (will get more explicit starting the next part)

fic starts below the cut! (wc: 1.1k)

Sophia Laforteza had worked her ass off to get where she was. All she demanded was some respect and that her sorority sisters do the same. She was considered a hardass, but it was to maintain discipline. She made the rules, of which there were only few. Members were to come home before curfew which was set at midnight during the week and 3am on weekends. Some of them learned that rule the hard way- which either ended with them not being let into the house until morning, being berated by Sophia the following day, or both. It was usually both.

Aside from partying, members were also expected to maintain an excellent academic record and do monthly community service. But most importantly, under no circumstances were they ever allowed to betray another sister. The loyalty aspect was probably the primary reason people stayed, because members of Alpha Chi Omega always helped their own- even after college.

You weren’t ever interested in joining a sorority, but during your second year your mom was pressuring you to follow in her footsteps and join the one she had been a part of. You had the required academic profile and you were big on following rules, so Sophia immediately let you in. You were surprised that you were subjected to any hazing ritual.

Boy, were you so wrong to let your guard down.

•••

A few days after moving into your room at the house, you realized just how mean your sorority sisters were to new recruits.

It started with Manon forcing you to do all of the communal chores. You did it without question, wanting to fit in. That paired with your study schedule, had you fully worn out by the end of the night. Because of how much you had to do during the day, you always showered last- and since the other girls took their sweet time, you were forced to shower in the cold. Some fucking loyalty that was.

“You’re on dinner duty tonight,” Manon said, shutting your laptop. You looked up at her in frustration and opened your mouth. “You have something to say?” Manon asked, raising an eyebrow to challenge you. Lara and Daniela were also staring you down with the same cold look Manon had.

“No. I was just going to ask what you wanted,” I said with a defeated sigh. Lara placed bags of ingredients in front of you while Manon went through the recipe.

“Good girl,* Daniela cooed with a smug smirk, patting the top of your head before you got up to get in the kitchen to start making dinner.

“You need help?” Megan asked you. You were about to answer yes, but Sophia came through the front door and insisted she needed Megan’s help with something. You rolled your eyes in annoyance.

“Better learn to behave,” Lara said, grabbing your wrist. She tugged you close, her body pressed right up against yours.

“Lara- let me go. The onions will burn,” you said, trying to pry your wrist out of her grip but she didn’t let up. Her face moved close to yours. In any other situation where Lara wasn’t such a bitch to you, you would’ve welcomed this treatment.

“I don’t like the way you’re talking to me, sweetie. Ask me nicely and I’ll think about it,” Lara said with a fake pout. Manon and Daniela egged her on.

“Please,” you whispered, your cheeks heating up in embarrassment.

“Please what? I can’t hear you,” Lara pressed on, her grip on my wrist tightening as she pretended she couldn’t hear you. She placed a finger on her ear, taunting you to speak up.

“Please let me go, Lara,” you said in a louder voice. “I need to finish this,”

“You’re no fun. Fine, but only because the onions are burning,” Lara said, rolling her eyes as she released you. “Make sure you cook them right next time,” she added with a smirk before turning to leave.

•••

“It was good,” Sophia said after we all finished having dinner together. You were so relieved that she was satisfied with your cooking. “But I heard you messed up the first time. Every time you mess up, that’s more food being wasted. Clearly someone needs to be taught a lesson about being wasteful, so instead of volunteering at the soup kitchen once at the end of the month- you’ll be there every weekend until the end of the month.”

Megan looked at you pitifully while the other girls tried not to laugh. You just nodded and hung your head low before going into the kitchen to clean up for the night. Megan got up to come help you after a few moments. “I know they’re a lot, but they mean well.”

“Are you sure about that?” you asked her.

“Yeah! They just want you to be the best version of yourself. They just have a harsh way of doing it sometimes,” Megan said, stepping in to wash the dishes beside you.

“Sometimes?”

“Okay fine- most of the time,” Megan chuckled. “But seriously, they’ll come around. You’ve only been here a week. If it makes you feel better, that’s still longer than most girls.”

“Really?”

“Yup,” Megan nodded. “That’s why there’s not many of us compared to your average sorority. Even then, being here has its perks- like you get your own room and a lot of support from your sorority sisters… eventually.” You tensed as Megan’s arm brushed against yours. Your face flushed in embarrassment but before anything could happen, Daniela came storming in to grab a seltzer from the fridge.

“The fuck is wrong with you two weirdos?” Daniela asked before abruptly leaving.

“Well uh, goodnight then,” you said since you had finished washing the dishes.

“Night,” Megan replied before you both retreated up to your rooms.

After winding down for the night, you stared up at the ceiling in the darkness of your bedroom. You hated every one of your sorority sisters, except for Megan. She was the only one making the house even slightly tolerable. You were only still around because of her.

You wondered if any of the girls had ever been harsh with her, or even each other. Maybe you’d ask her tomorrow, but for now you had to get some sleep.

Your eyes were shut for all of two minutes until you heard slamming and moaning from the other side of the wall. What did you ever do to deserve this?

[beesmisc]

I just finished rewatching voltron season 1 and I’m wondering at what point does “You’re the only person on this team who is locked in” turn into “I want you so bad let’s go on a mission together and say meaningful things to each other”

[dmumt]

90 second xiuchen interview being my reason to live today

[themarychain]

here’s a new hot take. people who ignore me when I’ve been nothing but nice shouldn’t get to have any followers actually

[softly-and-suddenly]

Madelene B. Hirth, “Social Problems of a Library Staff.” Library Journal 46 (February 15, 1921)

[juicykvnture]

SPRING BREAKERS (2)

Jason Todd x fem!Reader x Roy Harper | Challengers AU

Tags: AFAB reader, somno (brief), PiV, thigh fucking, threesome, Jason’s a loser, Roy’s a perv, Reader’s a menace.

a/n: I don’t have a single respectable thing to say.

wc: 3k

part 1 | masterlist

You hate the Stanford dorms more than anything in the whole world, especially in the heat.

All these thousands of dollars poured into your college every single year, only for every single AC unit in the building to be unusable.

“I’m literally going to die.” Roy all but whines as he stares up at the ceiling, fanning his face with a random copy of Vogue he found somewhere in your closet.

“Roy, do me a favour, yeah?” You lift your head from the pillow, reaching over to give the busted fan on your nightstand a solid whack so it keeps spinning, then another one for good measure.

“Mhm?”

“Go slam your head into that wall over there.”

He’s dazed for a moment, his brain working overtime to figure out what you could possibly want from him before he blinks, his lips curling into a small, almost childish pout.

“What did I ever do to you?” He frowns like an idiot, strands of his red hair clinging to his forehead.

“Live, breathe, exist in the same vicinity as me, perhaps?”

What? He asked, you answered.

“You’re lying. You love me.” He grins up at the ceiling, waving the magazine around in his hand before attempting to swat your thigh with it.

Unfortunately, he underestimated how dizzy the heat makes him, resulting in it landing on the floor.

“I can assure you, she doesn’t.” Jason mutters, standing in the doorway of your bathroom, water dripping down his neck and rolling down his bare chest from dunking his face in the sink in a desperate effort to cool off.

“We’re just her boy toys, no? Destined to end up somewhere in a landfill like the rest of ‘em.” He remarks dryly, but you’ve learned to read his expressions and what they mean, he’s just slightly amused judging by the way his eyebrows are slightly raised.

Scoffing, you sit up as you fan your face with your hand, peering over at him through your lashes.

“You make me sound like a bitch.”

Silence.

Jason’s eyes are anywhere but yours, deciding to focus on the fan on your bedside table and how unpredictably it moves, spinning in one direction, and then the other before stopping completely.

A lot like you, he thinks.

Did he seriously just compare you to a fucking busted-up fan?

Roy isn’t saying anything either, now suddenly extremely fascinated by the seam running across your pillow in his lap, dragging his fingers over it.

Okay, maybe you deserved that?

You haven’t brought up what happened last week, like at all. But fuck, if they’re blaming you for this then it’s just hypocritical.

They were literally both there. You’re all somewhat functional adults, yet all three of you are dancing around this.

It seems you’ve all decided to park that thought for now. It’s the hottest day of the year so far and you’re more focused on trying not to literally evaporate on the spot.

Still, this week has been different. You’re spending more time together which is a miracle considering how much of a headache both of them are. Jason has the communication skills of a plank of wood and Roy is so painfully ridiculous you wonder how he’s even made it into adulthood.

The glances linger now, they’re not fleeting like they used to be. Jason is now able to handle a conversation with you for just about 15 seconds at a time, which is great compared to the one or two syllables you used to be able to force out of him.

Roy is still Roy, just more shameless, a feat you didn’t even know was achievable by human standards. His tennis mightn’t be good enough for the Olympics but if there were awards for being the biggest manwhore, he’d know all about having balls in his court.

You haven’t gotten your shirt back either, it’s the only sort of cotton house shirt that wasn’t some kind of overpriced, polyester piece of shit like the ones you wear on the court.

He claims he lost it but knowing Roy, it’s probably shoved under his mattress or something like the freak he is. You grimace at the possibility of him jerking off into it. Your poor T-shirt.

As some weird kind of compensation, he offered you one of his instead. You were hesitant but you needed something breathable in this kind of weather.

Jason blinks for a moment, stepping out of the doorway to stare at what you’re wearing.

I TOLD YA

Bold, black lettering, printed across your tits.

“How’d you get my shirt? I’ve been looking for it.”

You glance down at yourself, then at Jason, and then over at Roy in confusion.

Okay, well you may be on the verge of a heatstroke but even in this state, you all know that items of clothing don’t tend to magically duplicate themselves.

“Roy gave it to me? It’s his shirt..” you trail off, glancing between the two of them once more.

Jason’s hands fall by his sides, staring at Roy.

“How? I have the exact same one and haven’t been able to find it since-“

He pauses, resting his hands on his hips.

Glancing between the two of them, you’re confused for a moment, fidgeting with the hem of it as the three of you work to find the true origins and rightful owner of the shirt you’re currently wearing.

And just like that, it all falls into place, Jason running a hand through his hair.

“Dude.”

If Jason’s shirt has somehow been in Roy’s custody this long.. you’re nearly sure it has gone through the same fate as your one at some point.

Oh!

“Roy you fucking freak.” You mumble into your pillow, reaching out to flip it so the cold side presses against your face.

He just curls his lips into an awkward, somewhat apologetic smile, offering a shrug.

“Jesus, I washed it before I gave it to you, okay?”

Yeah, as if that makes this any better.

“That doesn’t make this any better for me, you fucking degenerate!” Jason groans into his hand, his cheeks flushing from equal parts grave embarrassment and the sweltering heat in your dorm.

“No no no, Jay, you don’t get to call me the degenerate, not after what happened last week-”

Silence, again.

Rolling your eyes you give the fan another solid whack, glancing between them with raised eyebrows.

“Oh, so you two have zero problems jerking eachother off every fucking night, but facing last week is a stretch too far?” You let out an irritated scoff, only to be interrupted by Jason sputtering, throwing his hands up in surrender, his eyes fixed on the floor.

“He did it in his bed, okay? I did it in my bed. We did it together, but like opposites sides of the room..”

He’s rambling, over-explaining.

Roy makes a dismissive gesture of his hand with every syllable he utters, unable to hold back a smirk.

“No, Jason. If my memory serves me right, I can recall you getting up and-“

“Confront your crippling feelings at another time. My head hurts, kay?” You cut them off, letting your face hit the pillow again.

You’re not sure what time it is, you don’t care to check. All you know for sure is the fact you’re still boiling out of your skin and you swear the fan on the side table has been stuck like that since you fell asleep, it sputters awkwardly every couple minutes but judging by the sweat dripping down your neck, it’s useless.

“..stop moving.” You hear a mumble muffled by the pillows, not entirely sure if it’s Jason or Roy talking. You’re too tired to ask, too lazy to lift your head, and too hot to think.

“You’re fuckin’ sweatin’ all over me.” You grumble under your breath, the heavy bodies draped over you on either side making the whole space even warmer.

None of them move, and you hear no response either.

“Jason?” You whisper-yell, only to be met with a sleepy grumble into your neck, his arm draped over your torso.

Right, so it’s Roy who’s complaining then? You’re not entirely sure, though. That must be who’s back you’re facing at the moment.

It seems Roy’s grumble was a one-off and he’s gone back to sleep, thank god, you’ve had enough of his whining for the day.

You shift slightly, attempting to push them off of you, even if it’s just by an inch, only so you can breathe better.

Jason’s having absolutely none of it. Not after Roy cockblocked him last week. He’s not letting that happen this time. No fucking way.

“No, come back,” he breathes against your neck, his fingers curling into the fabric of your (his? Roy’s?) shirt, pushing it up and out of this way.

You’ve heard him say those exact words before. The night all of you refuse to acknowledge.

That goes straight over your head though, your face pushed into your pillow until you feel hands sliding up from your hips to your stomach, fingers pressing into your ribs.

“The fuck?” Your mutter is barely audible, unable to bring yourself to open your eyes.

Jason’s breathing is unsteady, trying to keep himself quiet by pushing his face into your neck, your skin heating up even more.

One of his hands slides back down to your hips, fumbling with the waistband of your underwear to pull it down your thighs, a small, frustrated whine soon following, his sounds muffled by your shoulder.

“Shit, you’re so pretty,”

He swallows, his cock throbbing in his sweatpants as he pushes himself against you, pressing himself against your ass. It’s like he needs to be as close to you as he physically can, despite the heat. He really does.

“M’sorry, fuck m’so sorry..”

His mumbles into your neck are barely coherent, pressing a trail of sleepy, haphazard kisses down the back of your neck, his shaky hand now going to fumble with his waistband, tugging at the drawstrings while he pushes his face into your shoulder in a desperate effort to keep himself quiet.

Your tired little mumbles are so sweet he swears he could just die (or cum) on the spot. You’re so sweet like this. As much as he secretly loves when you make fun of him or boss him around, what he’s feeling for you now is just indescribable.

He almost has a heart attack when he feels you moving, his breathing shaky as he stares at the back of your head through half-lidded eyes.

No, No, No

You’re going to hate him. He’s ruined everything. He feels like he could cry, but he wouldn’t even have a fucking excuse to explain himself other than his almost pitiful need for you.

Shit. He’s done it. He’s definitely fucked up now and you’re gonna know he’s a fucking creep and you’re gonna turn around any second and yell at him and-

He blinks in disbelief, feeling your hand resting over his to stop the fact he’s still fucking around aimlessly with the flimsy cotton, trying to get your panties down your thighs.

And when he feels your hand slide down lower, pulling your underwear to the side - he swears he can’t breathe.

“Thank you, thank you - fuck - thank you,” He’s panting in your ear like a mantra, his hips stuttering as he attempts to line himself up against you, his pre-cum already leaking down your thighs.

Jason seems to be hell-bent on keeping his face hidden in your shoulder, where he attempts helplessly to stifle his own sounds. He’s spooning you in a tangled mess of limbs and bedsheets, in an almost laughable attempt to restrain himself.

He can't fuck you like he wants to, unfortunately, and that kills him inside. Of course, Roy just fucking has to be here huh?

“Fuck,”

Just the thought of it has his grip on your hips tightening.

Don’t get him wrong, he loves Roy, really. But come on, the fact they’re literally fucking inseparable from the court - to sharing a dorm - to literally bending over backwards for the same woman is ridiculous.

“Shit,” he half-whispers, half-whines into your ear with a shaky thrust of his hips. “I don’t give a fuck if he wakes up, serves him right for givin’ me blue balls this whole fuckin’ time.”

He’s lying, he cares.

He’d probably cry out of embarrassment for the fact Roy could see him as weak, sobbing over pussy like last time.

God, he cares so much what that guy thinks. It’s almost laughable.

But he cares what you think more.

Besides, that’s like the most you’ve ever heard him talk in one go. He sounds like he just learned what swearing is.

“Jason,” Your grip on your pillow tightens, reaching your other hand back to the nape of his neck, giving his hair a tug, “S-shut. Up.”

You manage to open your eyes, your half-lidded gaze landing on the back of Roy’s head, trying to keep yourself and Jason quiet.

Roy is quiet. Eerily quiet.

Now, those are two words that simply shouldn’t belong in the same sentence.

He hasn’t moved an inch in a while you swear you're getting wetter by the second. You can tell Jason can feel it too, panting into your shoulder like a bitch.

You’re tempted to just roll your eyes and somehow find a way to move this to the couch or something, part of you feels bad that you’re making Jason hold back like this. Another part of you wants to ignore Roy, tell Jason to hurry up and make you cum so you can forget about all of this even happening.

Then you hear it.

A quiet creak from the far side of the mattress.

Your eyes narrow, now locked on Roy’s back in front of you, the muscles rippling under his skin as he moves.

The thought of it makes you tense, Jason can feel it too, you’re moving your hips back against him, your hand going to hold his as he ruts against you, his teeth sinking into the back of your neck.

Roy sighs, loudly. Loud enough to have your eyes fully open along with Jason trying not to cry into your neck, shaking with need and rambling under his breath about how badly he just needs to fuck you harder.

“Harper,” Your words leave you before your brain even registers them, Jason hiding his face in your hair.

“Uh-huh?” Roy swallows, internally praying to every single deity to ever exist that you’re not about to ask him to-

“Turn around,”

He’s silent when your words hit his ears, echoing through his otherwise empty skull before he jolts, his shorts halfway down his thighs with his hand wrapped around himself, pushing his face into your other shoulder.

When words finally find him, he’s biting down on your collarbone, a stark contrast to Jason’s messy kisses as he tries to hold himself back.

“You two aren’t fucking subtle.” Roy’s words leave his mouth in a rasp, lifting one of your thighs up so he has a better angle for himself, his chest now presses against yours.

“I could feel your fucking eyes on the back of my head,” He swallows, his fingers digging into the flesh of your thigh, moving to slot himself between them.

“And don’t get me fucking started on Jay over here.” He scoffs, fumbling with the drawstring of his shorts to push them down his thighs.

Jason’s trying to hide his face in your neck, but it’s clearly not working, considering the way he throbs inside you when Roy’s eyes lock onto his.

It’s a weird mixture of shame and sheer desperation, his arm locking around your torso like you’re his only shield from his own embarrassment.

You can hear Roy pant out a shaky laugh, running a hand over his sweat-slicked hair to tuck it out of his eyes, his form keeping you boxed against Jason.

It’s like you’re walking in on something again, even when Jason is literally balls deep inside you.

“Fuck,” he lets out a shaky breath, pressing himself into your thighs while Jason’s hips are trembling, trying to keep himself together as he fucks you from behind.

Roy tilts his head to kiss you, his breathing laboured as his pierced tongue brushes against yours, his half-lidded eyes aren’t on you though.

They’re locked on Jason, unwavering.

He pulls his lips away from yours, staring at Jason through his half lidded gaze before your pushing his face down into your neck, biting lightly at your skin as he pushes himself into your thighs, pulling one of your legs over his hip.

“He’s obsessed with you, yknow that? And you think I’m the perv.”

“Roy, can you just shut the fuck up?” Jason’s voice cracks, his grip on you tightening with an all but desperate thrust of his hips, hiding his face in your hair again.

“What? Am I hurting your feelings jaybird? Embarrassing you in front of a pretty girl?” Roy sneers, his teeth gleaming under the dim streetlight coming in through the cracked blinds, his grin not leaving his face for a second.

It wouldn’t be the first time. Roy making him embarrassed, that is.

“No, no, he’s lying, fuck- I swear he’s lying.” Jason’s words are more of a plea than anything else, trying to act like he’s normal about all of this, as if he hasn’t been rotting his brain.

“See why the fuck would I lie about that?” Roy murmurs, his one going to your waist as he thrusts himself into the gap between your thighs, his other reaching over your shoulder to pull Jason in by the neck do his chin rests on your shoulder, pressing his thumb against his bottom lip.

Right in front of my salad?

You let your head fall back against Jason’s shoulder, his shaky pants muffled by the nape of your neck as you push yourself back against him.

Your lashes flutter slightly as you stare at Roy, leaning your head against Jason’s now.

“The longer you spend running your mouth about him, the longer you’ll be making it up to him.”

a/n: yeah.

asks + reqs open, thank you for reading my heinous brainrot ily bye

Jason Todd m.list

[holylulusworld]

Stuck in the middle (1)

Summary: Your best friend and his husband got this.

Pairing: Stucky x fem!Reader, former ??? x fem!Reader

Warnings: angst, abandonment, relationship problems, hurt & comfort, bisexual Stucky, hinted grey/dark Stucky

Stuck in the middle masterlist

She was here before you. Penelope was there before you even came into the picture. Show a little more respect for my best friend. I have respected yours too. You cannot ask me to choose between you and her.

His words still echo in your mind. You just grabbed your bag and jacket and ran.

There’s nowhere to go, but you couldn’t stay at your house any longer. For two months, Penelope invaded your home, your personal space, acting all innocently.

Whenever your boyfriend wasn’t around, she told you that he would turn his back on you. That vile woman dared to tell you she’s going to wear his name by the end of the year and that you mean nothing to him. Penelope called you a placeholder, a distraction until she returns.

You angrily wipe the tears off your cheeks. He’s not worth it. They are not worth it. Your boyfriend poisoned the home you created by bringing a snake into your nest.

“Y/N, what happened?” You didn’t know where you went until you stood in front of your former best friend’s house—the one you abandoned to prove to your boyfriend that he means more to you than Steve.

Sweet Steve, with his head full of dreams and the kindest soul you've ever met. He stepped outside, barefoot and in only his sweatpants, to guide you inside his home. “What happened?”

“He…and then…” You shake your head. Steve doesn’t deserve to be your emotional dumpster. “Penelope is back.”

“Oh, doll,” Steve sighs and wraps his arm around your shoulders. He walks you inside his house and toward the bedroom where his husband is waiting for him.

“Steve? What happened?” Bucky slips out of the bed to wrap you in his arms while Steve walks into the walk-in wardrobe to get you a shirt to sleep in. “Hey, sweetheart. Tell Bucky what happened.”

“Buck,” Steve clears his throat. “Penelope is back.”

“That bitch,” Bucky curses while running his hand up and down your back. “You did well to come to us, baby love. Why don’t you tell Bucky everything that happened? What did that bitch do, and do we have to kill her?”

“I’m sorry,” you sniffle against Bucky. “I shouldn’t… He wanted me not to stay in contact with you. He said, you are undressing me with your eyes, Stevie.”

Bucky furrows his brows, looking at his husband. “Babe, did you undress her with your eyes?”

“Maybe?” Steve grins at his husband. “What are you going to do about it?” He eyes you in his husband’s arms, smirking darkly. Steve has been waiting for you to finally leave your boyfriend.

“We will see, Stevie. Let’s take care of our best girl first,” Bucky murmurs as he guides you toward the bathroom. “How about you take a warm bath, and we order food? We can talk after you calm down a little, okay?”

“Okay,” you whimper against Bucky. “Shit, I just ruined your night, didn’t I? I shouldn’t have come here.”

“Nonsense,” Steve jumps in. “We are glad you came to us, doll. Bucky and I will take good care of you. Right, Buck?”

“Of course,” Bucky emphasizes. “Come on, pretty girl. I’ll bring you to the bathroom, and Stevie will order food for us. You are always welcome here, you know that.”

You nod against Bucky and allow him to guide you into the bathroom. He helps you sit on the edge of the bathtub.

“Everything is going to be alright, Y/N.” Bucky runs you a bath, adding your favorite bath bomb. “Do you need help?”

You’re lost in your thoughts and sadness, to stop Bucky from unbuttoning your blouse. He helps you undress, brushing over your skin with skilled fingers. You don’t mind. He’s a friend and Steve’s husband. There’s nothing wrong with him helping you.

“Go ahead, we will be right there.”

You get inside the bathtub, humming happily as you sink into the warm water, and close your eyes. For the first time since Penelope moved into your home, you relax and forget about the pain she caused.

“Steve, calm down,” Bucky laughs as his husband is pacing the bedroom. “I know you have been waiting for her to come to us, but we need to do this slowly. You know, ease her into becoming ours.”

“She was meant to be ours from the beginning.” Steve is furious. He allowed your boyfriend to be the man in your life and gave up hope. Steve wanted you to be their third, the missing part, only for your boyfriend to snatch you out of his hands. “The tables have turned, Buck. I will never allow that piece of shit to ever get close to her again.”

“Tomorrow, we will get her things,” Bucky decides. “Tonight, we will take the first step to make her feel safe and loved in our home. Her new home.”

“We need to…” Steve squares his jaw and inhales sharply. “Take things slow, you’re right. She’ll see that we can give her all she’ll ever want. Love. Dedication. Pleasure beyond her imagination.”

“Pleasure, huh?” Bucky smirks darkly. “You already thought about ruining our sweet doll. I knew you were a dangerous man, Stevie.”

“How about we join her in the bathtub?” Steve suddenly says. “Only to scrub her back, of course.”

“Of course.”

“Stevie. Buck!” You squeak when your friend and his husband enter the bathroom wearing only a towel hung loose around their hips. “What…uh…”

“We thought we could join you. We have snacks too,” Bucky hastily says, showing you the strawberries in his hands. “We have champagne.”

“Oh…sure,” you nervously shift in the huge bathtub. There’s more than enough space in the bathtub, but you’re unsure if you want to share it with two men. Even though one of them is your best friend.

“We promise not to peek,” Steve jokes and unashamedly drops his towel. Your eyes grow wide. He’s off limits and gay, but damn, he’s packing.

Crap. No. You cannot think that way about your best friend or his gorgeous husband, who drops his towel too.

“Buck, how about you get into the tub? I’ll take care of the strawberries and champagne.” Steve is so casual about being naked in front of you and his husband that you relax. There’s nothing wrong with being comfortable with them.

“I’m on it.” Bucky climbs into the bathtub to sit next to you. His hand brushes your thigh, and you shudder, feeling the heat come out of his body. He looks at you with these baby blue orbs, making you melt into a puddle. “Hey, sweetheart. How are you holding up?”

“Not good, I guess,” you sniffle and hide your face in the palms of your hands. “Sorry.”

“Baby doll.” You feel Steve’s hands on your shoulder. You end up with your back resting against his chest and his arms wrapped tightly around your body. Steve is careful not to touch any intimate parts, but your cheeks heat up. “You don’t have to apologize. Never. You’re welcome to stay with us from now on.”

“Stevie and I will take good care of our best girl.” Bucky’s eyes are soft, and his words are soothing. “No one will ever hurt you again.” He takes your hand and places it on his heart. “I swear on my heart.”

You avert your gaze. It’s all too much. Steve is so close you can feel his warmth, and Bucky is looking at you as if you’re a wonder.

“You don’t have to worry about a thing,” Bucky murmurs. He moves closer to cup your face. “We will take care of everything from now on…"

Stuck in the middle (2)

Tags in reblog.

[heartsforvin]

SILENT TREATMENT

this is for my girl @forevergirlposts LOVE YOU BAE 😫(bit of a continuation to pranks, but that can be read as a stand-alone, this just mentions them in the car as if the last bits of the imagine (when they’re stargazing) didn’t happen !!)

pairing; vinnie hacker x fem!reader

warnings; smut, oral (fem receiving), orgasm denial, use of toys, use of pet names (baby, princess, etc), praise kink, degradation kink, thigh riding, unprotected p in v, slapping, spitting, vinnie being his own warning + him kinda being a dick, cussing, if i missed anything lmk!

summary; you give vinnie the silent treatment after an argument, earning you your own kind of treatment in return

sitting at a red light, vinnie turns his gaze to you, wondering if you’re ever gonna speak up.

“you gonna tell me why you’re acting like this?” he asks you, you look over with your arms crossed, glaring at him.

not replying, you turn your gaze back to the window you were looking out at before vinnie spoke up.

the light turns green and you two are on your way across the intersection, still not speaking.

you thought apologizing to him would help, but clearly it just made him more angry.

it was a harmless prank, you thought. clearly not to vinnie, though.

coming to another stop a few miles up the road, vinnie glances in your direction again, you try not to look a him, keeping your eyes on the window as you wait for the light to change.

he mutters something under his breath, gaining your attention, you look over at him and his eyes are on the road.

“that seemed to get your attention.” he says while keeping his gaze fixated on the road in front of you.

you roll your eyes. “well hearing my boyfriend call me a bitch isn’t exactly what i wanna hear.” you reply.

vinnie smirks but quickly changes the expression to a blank stare. the light turns green again and soon the car is filled with silence.

the blonde had stopped at a gas station on the way back to his place. once in the lot, he parked the car and asked if you wanted anything.

you didn’t reply, not having anything else to say. vinnie rolled his eyes and stepped out of the car, slamming the door behind him which resulted you to jump, not expecting the sudden impact.

five minutes later he returns and the two of you are soon on your way back to vinnie’s house.

once again, the ride is silent, the only noise heard his some song vinnie had put on, you not caring what it was.

finally, you pulled in the driveway and vinnie had turned off the car. grabbing his things, he opened the door but faced you. “are you just gonna sit there and pout like a baby or are you gonna come inside?” he asked.

waiting a moment for a reply, he scoffed when you ignored him again. vinnie climbed out of the car and shut the door behind him.

standing in front of the car, he waited for you, since it was the respectful thing to do. even if he was extremely pissed off at you.

“whatever,” he muttered, walking inside the home. once inside, he closes the door behind him and was met with his roommates.

saying a quick ‘hello’ vinnie then made his way to his room, shutting the door behind him and then taking his shoes off.

he put his things down on his desk and then laid on his bed, wondering how long you’d stay out in his car pouting like a child.

twenty minutes later he heard his door quietly open. lifting his gaze from his phone to his bedroom door, he saw you walk in with a slight smile on your face.

“wipe that fucking smile off your face,” he said sternly, making you huff.

you ignored him and just walked to his bathroom. a few moments later you walked out in one of vinnie’s tee’s and some shorts. you made your way to sit at his gaming chair, not wanting to be near him.

“so, you gonna tell me why you decided to start an argument and then give me the silent treatment,” vinnie started, propping himself up on his bed by his elbows. “or am i gonna have to fuck it out of you?”

you couldn’t help but blush and clench your legs together at the thought of vinnie taking his aggression out on you. it wasn’t often he did it, so when he did, you knew you were in for it.

you heard your boyfriend chuckle lowly, noticing the blush on your cheeks and how you pushed your legs together.

“pretty girl likes that idea, huh?” he teases, knowing he’s getting you riled up.

vinnie gets up from his bed and walks over to you, grabbing you by the waist to lift you up. he sits on his gaming chair, making you now sit on his lap.

feeling the prominent boner in his grey sweats, you decide to tease him. why not, right? you already pissed him off, why not do it some more.

wiggling your ass against him, vinnie groans into your neck, gripping your hips roughly.

“killin’ me, princess.” he says, evident strain in his voice.

you smirk at him, leaning in to kiss him but he pulls away. “nuh-uh,” he says, placing his finger on your lips. “only good girls get kisses.” he tells you with a smile spread across his face.

pouting once again, you cross your arms, just wanting to kiss your boyfriend. you start to get off his lap but vinnie pulls you back down.

straddling his thigh now, you squirm around, trying to get rid of the ache in between your legs.

vinnie smiles as he tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear, kissing your temple softly.

that’s the most physical contact you’ve gotten tonight, besides the current situation you two are in.

“wanna be a good girl for me?” he whispers, leaving kisses along your neck, making you even more wet than you already are.

all you can reply with is an ‘mhm’ which sounded more than a moan than an actual response.

smirking, vinnie wraps his arms around you so his hands are on your as, he squeezes gently, making you move a bit on his thigh.

“you were such a brat today, don’t know if you deserve it.” he says, making you whine.

“i’ll be good, swear.” you tell him, giving him the innocent look he loves so much.

grinding against his thigh, you can’t help but let a noise slip, making you bite your lip, not wanting vinnie to hear.

he had, though, and that lead to a smack against your ass. “get off on my thigh, baby,” he says lowly.

whining, you move against him, loving the pleasure it’s giving you. “such a dirty girl, getting herself off by just my thigh. you want it so bad, don’t you, huh?”

you grip at his shoulders to steady yourself, vinnie smiles at you as he grips your hips, helping you relive the ache.

that soon ends though. he abruptly stops you and removes you from his leg, walking you backwards to his bed and pushing you onto it.

“you thought i’d go easy on you? let you get your way?” he laughs, pulling his sweats down and throwing them in the room somewhere.

you nod your head, kind of hoping he would. vinnie chuckles as he smiles at you. you whine as you look at his boner wanting to be free of his boxers.

meanwhile, you find it extremely unfair since your still in his baggy t-shirt and shorts. he sees you lift your hips and pull the shorts off, a smirk plastered on his face.

once your shorts are off you hear vinnie audibly gasp at the sight in front of him.

this wasn’t your guys’ first time, not in the slightest. every time he saw you like this though, he couldn’t help but be mesmerized.

“so gorgeous, princess.” he compliments you, making you blush and hide your face in your shoulder.

vinnie goes soft on you for a moment, his once aggressive demeanor now a more calm one.

hooking his index finger under your chin, he lifts up your chin so you can look at him. he smiles and gives you what you’ve been waiting for.

the kiss isn’t rough nor fast paced, it’s slow and passionate.

once the two of you are separated, it’s like that kiss never happened and he wasn’t just giving you the most loving touches in the world.

“lay on your back,” is all he says before crawling up on the bed and being mere inches away from where you’ve been needing him most.

looking up at you, he stares at you coldly before asking, “can i take these off, sweetheart?” tugging at the waistband of your panties.

nodding, you have the biggest grin on your face, finally getting what you’ve been wanting. vinnie slowly pulls your panties down your legs and tosses them somewhere in his room.

lowering himself, he lays with his chest on the bed while his mouth his oh so close to your dripping core.

before giving you exactly what you want, vinnie rubs your clit ever so slowly, teasing you and making you squirm away from him.

he roughly pulls you back by your ankles, not even giving you another second to process anything before his mouth is on you.

another whine escapes your lips the second you feel his mouth on you. you grip at the sheets, loving the feeling.

“mhm, vin.” you moan out, the feeling of him sucking on your clit becoming too much to handle.

you feel like you can cum any second, squeezing your legs around his head, you hear vinnie moan into you, causing vibrations all over.

letting go with a loud sound, vinnie looks up at you with pure lust, you can see the wetness on his chin and that just makes you more needy.

“such a pretty pussy,” he says, smacking you gently which only makes you whimper in response. “you like that? like it when i smack your pussy like that, baby?”

biting your lip, you let out a loud moan when he does it again, making vinnie chuckle in return. “doin’ so good for me, sweetheart.” he praises, only making it worse for you.

you know the ‘innocent’ act from him won’t last long. well, however innocent he can get while eating you out.

you were cut off from your thoughts when you felt vinnies middle finger enter you, a groan erupting from him.

sucking on your clit again, he pumps his finger in and out of you at a fast pace, making you arch your back slightly as you grip the sheets.

“f-fuck, vin, feels so good.” you moan out, looking down at him with lust filled eyes.

detaching his lips from you, he adds another finger, circling your clit with his thumb to help you get close to the edge.

“mm close,” you whine out, gripping the boys hair below you.

right before you’re about to let go, vinnie pulls away from you, smirking as he licks his fingers clean.

“what the fuck?” you ask, lifting yourself up on your elbows to look at him. “why’d you stop?”

standing up, you can clearly see the visible boner in his boxers, making you close your legs.

he looks at you for a moment with his arms crossed, almost as if he’s studying you. feeling small under his gaze, you bring your arms up to cover yourself.

vinnie doesn’t answer, instead, he goes over to one of the bedside tables and pulls it open.

pulling out the toy, you immediately shake your head. “no, no, no.” you say, tears brimming your eyes.

vinnie climbs back on the bed and pushes you on your back again, he smiles at you as he brings the vibrator to your clit, turning it on to the second highest setting.

“mm, vinnie,” you moan out, trying your best to not close your legs in on him.

the pleasure soon gets to be too much, seeing as he’s upped the vibration to the second to last setting.

you grip the sheets and bite your lip, knowing if you didn’t, everyone would be able to hear you.

vinnie knew you were close and took the toy away from you, making you roll your eyes.

he chuckles as he tosses the toy to the side, forgetting all about it. vinnie moves his hands up your body and stops once he reaches your tits, squeezing them roughly through your shirt.

“fuck, baby,” he says, rubbing your nipples through your shirt. “so sensitive, are we?”

lifting your shirt, he can clearly see just how sensitive you are, one little movement from him and you’re squirming.

vinnie leans down to suck on your tits, leaving evident marks on them as he does. he moves his mouth to your left one, taking your nipple in his mouth as he massages the right.

“mm, more,” you say, loving the feeling of his mouth on your chest.

vinnie hums in response, not giving you what you want in the slightest.

moving down your body, he leaves kisses all down your stomach to your thighs.

vinnie looks up at you and you can’t help but smile, even if you aren’t going to be able to walk tomorrow morning.

“get that fuckin’ smile off your face,” he growls at you. “you know what’s gonna happen?” he asks.

you shake your head as you look up at him with puppy dog eyes. “i’m gonna fuck this pretty pussy of yours, and you’re gonna take it like a good girl.” the blonde explains.

this expression towards you was blank. he said the most filthy words to you with such a serious tone and an almost blank stare.

“can you say it for me, pretty?” vinnie asks as he kisses the inside of your thigh.

you squirm at the feeling of his lips on your skin. “i’m your good girl, vin.” you tell him.

he smiles and kisses your lips the second those words leave your mouth. the next thing you know his boxers are off and he’s pulling you closer to him.

“can i take this off?” he asks, tugging on your (his) shirt.

you nod your head frantically, wanting nothing more than the shirt off and for him to be inside of you.

vinnie finally pulls your shirt off and tosses it to the ground, leaving you both completely naked to each other.

he can’t help put kiss you, you just look too irresistible for him not too. although he is mad at you for the silent treatment you’ve given him all night, he can’t help but go soft on you and treat you as if you’re something so fragile.

“scoot up on the bed for me, baby.” vinnie whispers against your lips.

you pull away from the boy and move up to the headboard, laying your head against a pillow. you smile and bite your lip as you watch your boyfriend crawl on the bed closer to you.

once he reaches you, he gives you a quick kiss before placing his hands on either side of you to steady himself.

without a warning, he pushes himself into you with a groan, setting a steady pace. as his thrusts become deeper, so does the physical contact from him.

“yeah you like that, princess?” he asks, you can’t help but moan at the feeling. “like it when i fuck this pretty pussy, baby?”

vinnie smirks as you moan out his name, he watches as your eyes roll back in pleasure. “eyes on me, princess.” he tells you as he smacks your tits roughly.

grabbing onto vinnie’s hair, you pull it when he hits a particularly good spot, moaning as you do so. “vin, please.”

you open your eyes but soon close them once again when you feel the harsh smack on your chest.

vinnie grabs your face and makes you look at him as he keeps his pace fast. “open your mouth for me, sweetheart.”

opening your mouth, vinnie leans in closer and let’s a string of spit enter. “swallow.” is all he says. you do, and he smiles.

“good girl.” he praises. you grip his shoulders and buck your hips, meeting his thrusts.

“that’s it, baby. fuck yourself on my cock,” vinnie says with a moan followed after. “that’s it, doing so good.”

you feel that knot in your stomach tighten as vinnie’s thrusts become deeper. he could tell you were close, wanting to tease you, he thought about stopping, but he decided not to.

“come on baby, cum on my cock,” he grunts, his pace becoming faster. “ be a good girl for me.”

with a few more harsh thrusts from him, you’re moaning out his name as you come down from your high.

vinnie follows soon after, kissing you on the forehead once he catches his breath.

he stays inside of you for a minute, loving the feeling. laying down on your chest, you wrap your arm around him.

“maybe i should give you the silent treatment more often.” you tell your boyfriend.

he brushes some hair out of your face and kisses you passionately. “if i get to fuck you like that, then be my guest.” he replies with a smile.

kissing you one last time, he pulls out of you and the two of you get dressed, walking downstairs and acting as if your boyfriend didn’t just fuck you so good.

although everyone knew the minute you made your way into the living room, getting an earful from vinnie’s roommates.

vinnie comes up behind you and leans into you, kissing your neck. “don’t listen to them, they’re just jealous i get to have you.”

lil surprise (: i hope you all enjoyed, everyone say thank you to dakota ( @forevergirlposts) for commenting under my most recent imagine n puttin this idea in my head , ILY <333 and i hope you loved it 🩷

[gossameres]

chapter eleven, seven more minutes

pairing: peter parker x f. reader

it’s a full circle moment back at liz’s—only this time, no one’s getting shoved into closets.

warnings: alcohol usage, suggestive, fluff

genres: college au, fake-dating, friends w. benefits

word count: 4k

prev. series masterlist!

Although you’d only pretended to be in a relationship with Peter around your friends, it had never really felt like pretending. There was something about the way your hands always found each other without thinking, the way his laugh pulled something loose in your chest, the way he looked at you like he already knew your next sentence. None of it ever felt rehearsed. And now that it was official and it didn’t feel harder. If anything, it made more sense.

Still, there was a weird sense of déjà vu standing outside Liz Allan’s house again. Same warm string lights flickering in the window, same throb of music and laughter spilling out through the cracks in the doorframe. The winter air nipped at your cheeks as you shifted your fingers to re-interlock them with Peter’s, your other hand buried in your coat pocket.

Peter stood beside you, both gift bags cradled in one arm—yours, which looked normal-sized and respectable, and his, which was noticeably bulkier and slightly crushed from the weight of whatever he shoved inside.

“Why is your bag so huge?” you asked, eyeing it. “Now I feel like I didn’t bring enough.”

Peter glanced down at it, then shrugged like he hadn’t just broken the ten-dollar limit. “It’s not big. It’s just… well-endowed.”

“Did you just call your gift bag well-endowed?”

He nodded solemnly. “Presentation matters.”

You rolled your eyes. “Size doesn’t.”

Peter grinned. “Bold of you to say when you’re dating me.”

You opened your mouth to respond—likely with something scathing—but before you could gag directly in his face, the front door flew open. Liz stood in the doorway partially barefoot, one sock sliding down her ankle and a half-full glass of something bubbly in hand. Her hair already looked slightly mussed.

“Drink the fuck up!” she shouted, grabbing both your wrists and yanking you inside like this had all been rehearsed.

You stumbled forward with a laugh, catching yourself just in time to avoid knocking into Peter. The paper bags he held crinkled as he adjusted his grip, one arm flexing slightly under their weight.

When you reached the kitchen threshold, Liz waved both of you in with grand jazz hands. “Bar’s open, lovebirds,” she announced, gesturing toward the kitchen island like she was unveiling a magic trick.

You stepped in and immediately slowed, blinking at the sheer spread in front of you. The island was covered from end to end with bottles, mixers, and seltzers stacked like a convenience store display. There were neat bowls of garnishes—lime wedges, maraschino cherries, salted rims—and Liz had even lit one of those tacky cinnamon-sugar holiday candles that made the whole room smell like a cookie factory.

“You,” you said, blinking at the setup, “make me genuinely concerned for your liver.”

Peter laughed behind you, the warm sound brushing the back of your neck. You felt his hand settle low at your back, just above your waistband. His fingers curled slightly against the fabric of your sweater as he leaned in, eyes scanning the lineup of alcohol like he was shopping.

From somewhere down the hallway, Liz called out cheerfully, “Some nights are made for bad decisions! For example: Christmas and New Year’s.”

You raised your eyebrows, deadpan. “Whose bright idea was it to combine those two?”

“Mine, bitch!” she yelled gleefully, and a doorbell chime echoed through the house. “Ooh—that must be Cindy!”

You watched her bolt from the kitchen like she was greeting a soldier home from war. Cindy barely had time to tug her scarf off before Liz swept her into a full spin-hug.

Turning back to the chaos of the island, you took in the crooked pyramid of Surfside cans and tequila bottles sweating under the overhead lights. A charcuterie board sat shoved between plastic chip bowls and mini corn dogs, looking extremely out of place. You cracked open a strawberry lemonade Surfside, the soft hiss of carbonation breaking through the music from the living room. You took a sip and let it fizz over your tongue before holding the can up, offering it blindly behind you.

“Want some?”

Peter leaned in, his lips brushing close to your ear as he took a sip. “This tastes like a Capri Sun.”

You smirked. “Mhm. That’s how they get ya.”

He edged in a little closer, the warmth of his body now brushing against yours. His voice dropped low, just for you. “I’ll be okay though. Fast metabolism. Y’know—radioactive spider and all.”

You snorted and gave him a look. “Lucky me. My boyfriend has superpowers.”

“Mmhm.” His tone turned teasing, light but cocky. “Super strength. Super speed. Super endurance. Comes in handy, huh?”

You groaned, shoving his shoulder. “You’re so annoying. Why are you so horny all of a sudden?”

“Am I wrong?” he asked, eyes twinkling, stealing another sip from your drink like it was owed to him.

You rolled your eyes and smacked his chest with the back of your hand, already fighting a grin. “I literally can’t take you anywhere.”

Before you could say anything worse, someone cleared their throat nearby. You turned, and there was Ned in the doorway, clutching two awkwardly wrapped presents and wearing a slightly crooked Santa hat. He had New Year’s glasses perched on his nose that made him look like a misguided youth pastor.

He blinked at you both like he’d just walked into a crime scene.

“I’m gonna pretend I didn’t hear the part about…” Ned waved vaguely between you and Peter. “You know. The, uh… stamina comment.”

Your hand flew up to your mouth, eyes wide, a snort escaping before you could swallow it back. Peter groaned beside you, dragging a hand down his face like he could wipe away the secondhand embarrassment.

“Dude,” Peter muttered. “Seriously?”

“No judgment!” Ned said quickly, shifting the gifts in his arms. “Happy for you guys. Love is beautiful, whatever. Just—maybe keep the sex metaphors away from the food?”

You wheezed out a laugh and leaned your head into Peter’s shoulder. “Or maybe you could stop eavesdropping, nosy.”

Ned looked around theatrically, whispering like he was smuggling government secrets. “Kinda hard not to eavesdrop when I’m the guy in the chair and I have to monitor everything.”

Then he stepped a little closer, lowering his voice and raising an eyebrow at you with a knowing look. His tone shifted from playful to pointed, his voice soft.

“So… I’m assuming you know?” he asked with a slight tilt of the head towards. “Like… know know?”

“Mhm,” you hummed, taking another sip of your drink as you leaned forward on your elbows, glancing sideways at Peter beside you.

Ned eyed the two of you with interest, head tilting. “Wait—so how’d this happen? Did you figure it out or did he actually tell you?”

Peter shook his head before you could answer.

You grinned, still a little warm from the alcohol. “You want the short version or the drunk girl version?”

“Oh wow,” Ned muttered. “How’d you not freak out?”

“She did freak out,” Peter said, nudging you with his elbow, a smile tugging at his mouth.

You rolled your eyes. “Shut up. Your dumb voice gave it away.”

Peter turned toward you with mock offense. “You didn’t know the first time we met.”

“I literally said you sounded familiar.”

“That doesn’t mean you knew.”

“I had a hunch,” you said, matter-of-fact, “and my hunches are always right.”

You stuck your tongue out at him, and he mirrored it back without hesitation, stealing another sip of your drink as retaliation.

“He barely even tried to disguise it,” you added.

Ned threw his hands up, looking personally betrayed. “Dude, are you serious? How am I keeping this secret better than you?”

Peter shrugged, turning back toward you. “Didn’t know you had my voice memorized.”

You gave him a look. “Of course I do. You’re my boyfriend, you dunce.”

“Not that it’s a competition or anything,” Ned cut in, “but I’ve known since, like, sophomore year.”

You raised your can toward him with a lopsided smile. “Damn. You’ve got seniority.”

“Damn right I do,” Ned said proudly. “I’ve seen things.”

Peter groaned, dragging a hand over his face. “Please don’t elaborate.”

You smirked, about to prod Ned for whatever deeply humiliating anecdote he was clearly holding back—but Liz’s voice rang out from the other room like she’d just been handed a megaphone.

“White elephant in five!” she bellowed, loud enough to make the garland on the staircase tremble. She stood in the center of the living room, gesturing everyone over.

You groaned softly and took another sip from your drink. “The living room’s gonna give me PTSD.”

Peter raised a brow, shifting the bags in his arms. “Why? You didn’t have a good time with me in the closet?” he asked, smug.

Out of the corner of your eye, you caught Ned grimacing in disgust. You bit your cheek to keep from laughing and mouthed a quick sorry, which he responded to with a disappointed shake of his head.

“I did,” you said. “But the person I sat next to smelled really bad.”

Both boys instinctively sniffed themselves.

“You were both across the room,” you added, deadpan.

They exchanged a look. “Oh,” they said in unison.

You smirked and tipped your head toward the hallway. “C’mon. Before Liz starts roll call.”

Peter snagged a random, unopened can from the island and fell into step beside you while Ned trailed behind, still balancing his wrapped gifts like props in a sitcom.

As the three of you joined the slow-moving group funneling toward the living room, Ned leaned toward Peter and nudged his elbow. “You know this is the exact moment we realized you had game, right?”

Peter shot him a look. “Had game? I’ve always had game. You just never got to witness it firsthand.”

Ned snorted. “Yeah, and I thank God for that daily. You’re lucky she’s into nerds.”

“I’m charming,” Peter said, turning to you for backup.

You shrugged, sipping your drink. “I mean… I am here, aren’t I?”

“Seven minutes was just our hard launch,” Peter added casually.

Ned raised a skeptical brow but let it go, shaking his head as he wandered toward an open La-Z-Boy.

You didn’t say anything, just smirked. The lie still sat between you and Peter—the one where everyone assumed you’d made out in that closet, when in reality, you barely even touched. Just fake-moaned, squirmed around like idiots, and waited out the clock. You’d silently agreed to keep that part to yourselves. Partly because it was funnier that way. Mostly because explaining the trajectory from “seven minutes in heaven” to “casual hookup” to “not speaking” to “actually dating” would’ve required a whiteboard and a PowerPoint presentation.

“Hey, babe,” Betty called, wedging herself beside Ned. 

You and Peter squeezed into a barely-two-person section of the couch. His arm slid easily around your shoulders, your thighs pressing together. He dropped your gift bags at his feet, and you took another sip of your drink as the room hummed around you—overlapping voices, the fizz of a soda tab, a crash in the kitchen that definitely sounded like someone dropped an entire tray of cups.

Liz had pushed the coffee table to the center of the room, and people were settling into a circle—half on couch cushions, half on the rug—like some weird ritual was about to begin. You ended up half in Peter’s lap, your body angled toward his, his arm resting across your back, fingers absentmindedly brushing your arm.

Betty leaned in, her spiked cider already halfway gone. She nodded toward you and Peter, basically tangled together.

“This,” she said, gesturing between you two. “Adorable. Like I said.”

You rolled your eyes but smiled anyway. When you turned to Peter, he was already looking at you, pulling you a little closer. You leaned into him without thinking—his touch warm and easy. Betty raised her brows dramatically once Peter looked away, mouthing something about marriage and babies. You barely held back a laugh, hiding your smile behind your can.

Then Liz clapped, standing in the middle of the circle with the kind of energy only someone wearing a glittery cowboy hat and wielding a spreadsheet could possess.

“Alright!” she announced, slicing through the noise. “Ground rules are simple. Pick a number, open a gift, or steal one.”

Peter’s arm shifted, his palm flattening against the curve of your coat. His thumb brushed along your side, light but grounding. You barely noticed until Betty caught it from across the couch, her brows lifting again, lips tugging into a soft smile. She placed a hand over her heart and mouthed adorable again.

You rolled your eyes but felt your mouth tug into another reluctant smile.

“Okay,” Liz called, now wearing the cowboy hat with absolutely zero irony. “I’m calling numbers.”

She shook a Solo cup filled with crumpled slips of paper and passed it around. Peter squeezed your hip before reaching in. You followed, unfolding a tiny square marked with a smudged Sharpie “Six.”

“Who’s got number one?” Liz asked, scanning the group.

Across the circle, MJ raised a hand, her expression unreadable as ever. She sat cross-legged on the rug, chewing her gum like this was a documentary.

“Cool,” she said flatly. Her eyes drifted over the pile of gift bags and boxes until she plucked the sloppiest one—rainbow Santa sleds, scotch tape barely holding it together. She peeled it open one-handed, tugging the paper until she revealed a floppy gray elephant g-string, complete with a plush trunk and googly eyes.

There was a long beat of silence.

“What the fuck,” MJ said, expression unchanging as she held it up. She flicked the trunk experimentally—and it blared a tinny, obnoxious tune you couldn’t even place. Circus music, maybe?

MJ blinked. “What the fuck,” she repeated, now more confused than annoyed—but her mouth twitched.

“I need that,” Flash called from the couch. “Mine’s too big for regular undergarments.”

“Congrats on having the biggest micro-penis,” MJ fired back who immediately received an aggressive scowl from him.

“Who brought this?” MJ asked, still holding it away from herself like it might bite.

Cindy raised a hand, looking unapologetic. “Okay, in my defense—it was five bucks, and it came with a keychain.”

“You’re done,” MJ declared, tossing the waistband back into the box.

Peter leaned in, his breath warm against your ear. “I had my eye on that bag.”

You gave him a look. “I’m glad you didn’t get it.”

He smirked. “What, you don’t think I’d look good in it?”

You took a sip of your drink, completely unfazed. “You’re cute, but I’m not trying to think about Zootopia when we’re having sex.”

Peter grinned. “Still gonna try and steal it, though.”

Naturally, the rest of the gifts only got weirder. Ned ended up with a bag of a hundred rubber ducks, which was arguably the tamest gift of the night. Flash stole a Bluetooth speaker shaped like a pineapple from Jason and paraded it around like it was a trophy. Cindy unwrapped a bag of gummy dicks you’d grabbed from Spencer’s on impulse. Brad, of course, went for the frozen DiGiorno Betty opened which somehow, was still ice-cold, and he cradled it like a prize roast.

You didn’t fare as well. After a few steals, you were left with a sad, toilet-shaped mug. A few other gifts passed hands until finally, it was Peter’s turn.

He let out a dramatic sigh, slumping forward like the moment had been haunting him all night. “This better be good,” he muttered as the room quieted slightly, all eyes turning to him.

You leaned back to give him space, sipping your drink as he approached the coffee table with theatrical dread.

Only one gift remained—a small, crumpled brown paper bag. Peter grabbed it without hesitation, peeked inside, and pulled out a Ziploc bag labeled PREMIUM AIR in bold Sharpie.

He stared at it.

“…Dude,” he said flatly. “Is this a fart?”

Across the circle, Flash was already losing it, face red with laughter. “Nah, man,” he wheezed. “It’s premium air. Just open it.”

Peter looked up, deadpan. “Flash.”

“It’s vintage!” Flash insisted. “Predates graduation. Get a whiff.”

“Absolutely not.” Peter pinched the bag like it was toxic.

“C’mon, it’s sterile!” Flash snickered.

“Yeah, because you’d know what sterile means,” MJ muttered from the rug.

Someone else grumbled, “So much for maturity.”

Flash rolled his eyes, flopping back dramatically. “Y’all don’t get comedy.”

Peter didn’t respond. He returned to the couch, dropped the biohazardous bag at his feet, and turned to you.

With everyone’s turns complete, the game dissolved into casual chaos—side conversations, mock trades, and people parading their weird prizes. You stayed curled into Peter’s side, his arm draped across your shoulders, fingers brushing your arm now and then. You talked about nothing—the weather, the subway, whether lava lamps counted as furniture or decor. Your legs tangled together like they’d done it a hundred times. His voice stayed low, his breath soft against your ear, and the rest of the party blurred around you.

Gradually, the room began to shift. Some people trickled into the kitchen, others drifted upstairs or out to the porch. The couch cushions shifted as bodies disappeared, and the volume mellowed to a low hum—laughter echoing faintly from the hallway, the edges of the party softening.

You glanced at the clock.

11:54.

You leaned closer to Peter, voice low beneath the buzz of the room. “Hey. Wanna get some air?”

He turned to you immediately, eyes soft. “Yeah. Of course.”

He shifted to stand, balancing his weight with one hand on your thigh for a second before scooping up the oversized bag he’d brought his gift in.

You raised an eyebrow. “Why do you still have that? We all threw our trash away.”

He shrugged, casual. “I like to recycle myself.”

“Look at this environmentally friendly loser over here.” you pointed at him with your thumb with a voice, sarcastic.

“And you’re dating me, so what does that make you?”

“Deeply unwell.”

He grinned and reached for your hand. “C’mon.”

Fingers laced through his, you wove your way through the crowded house. The front door creaked open, letting in the crisp night air, and you both stepped out onto the porch. The cold hit immediately, sharp and bracing, laced with the faint bite of snow on the wind.

You sat on the front steps and patted the space beside you. Peter dropped the crinkling bag with a quiet thud and sank down next to you. You leaned your head on his shoulder, still warm from inside, and he tipped his just enough to rest it against yours.

For a while, you didn’t say anything.

The outside world felt suspended. The stillness of late December wrapped around you both—quiet, cold, full of that hush right before a snowfall. The house behind you pulsed faintly with music and laughter, dulled by the thick walls. You breathed in slow, the air stinging your lungs in the best way. Beside you, Peter exhaled in sync, fogging up the air between you.

“Good air. Grateful it’s not ‘premium.’” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.

Peter made a face. “Yeah, I’m never opening that thing. Ever. I’m throwing it away the second we get home.”

“Or,” you said, grinning lazily, “you could pop it open right in his face. Let him bask in the glory of his own creation.”

He laughed, low and genuine, and wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you closer. “You’re kind of evil.”

“Only a little.”

He kissed the top of your head. “Still a genius, though.”

You sank into him a little more, content to let the silence return and stretch out around you again. For a while, it was just the sound of the distant party and the occasional squeak of someone laughing too hard inside. Then Peter shifted, just enough for you to lift your head, and you felt him pull away gently.

“I, uh—” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I’ve got something for you.”

You blinked, sitting up a little straighter. “Hm?”

Peter turned slightly, pulling out a small package wrapped in soft tissue paper and tied with a pale pink ribbon—carefully done, like he’d retied it at least twice to get it just right.

“I know it’s not Christmas anymore,” he said, a little sheepish, “and I’m like… a week late. But—uh—open it.”

You hummed softly, curious now, as you carefully untied the ribbon and peeled back the wrapping. Beneath the folds, in the dim porch light and faint glow of the stars above, was the scarf. The scarf. The one you’d fawned over weeks ago in that boutique window, when you were both too cold and too tired to be sensible. You froze, fingertips grazing the edges of it. The wool was just as soft as you remembered—finely stitched, cream-colored with little flecks of navy and rose woven through the thread. Your eyes snapped to his, wide.

“Peter—holy shit. This was so expensive!” you breathed, stunned.

He grinned, running a hand through his hair, cheeks flushed. “Mr. Stark started paying me. Said I was doing enough hands-on work in the lab to count as a junior research assistant. It’s not, like… crazy money. But I wanted to get you something nice. I’m sorry I didn’t give it to you sooner. Things were just—kind of a mess.”

You stared at him, heart swelling in that painful, giddy way affection sometimes came. “This is—you’re—God. You’re stupidly sweet. I adore you. So, so much.”

He took the scarf gently from your lap and looped it around your neck, fingers brushing your jaw as he adjusted it. His hand lingered afterward, cupping your cheek, thumb tracing lightly across your skin.

“Anything for you,” he murmured. “Always.”

Your breath caught, eyes stinging a little from the sudden, overwhelming warmth. “I love you, Peter.”

“Ditto,” he said, soft and sure—and the sound of it made your stomach flutter. You giggled under your breath, eyes shining.

Inside, the music dimmed just enough to catch the rumble of a countdown starting—Liz’s voice rising above the rest, slightly slurred but enthusiastic “Sixty!” and the chorus of people picked it up from there. You both turned slightly, watching through the frosted window as the crowd scrambled back into the living room. Flash was already at fifty-two, counting loudly like he’d been training all year for it.

You looked back at Peter. “Wanna go inside?”

His eyes didn’t leave you. “Not really.”

You nodded. “Yeah. Me neither.”

Forty-seven.

You leaned your head back against his shoulder, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breath beneath you.

“You cold?” he asked softly.

“Not really,” you said. “You run hot.”

“That’s the radiation.”

“How comforting,” you teased, nudging your nose gently against his cheek.

Thirty-five.

He turned to look at you, hand still warm on your waist. “Is it weird?”

“What is?”

“How happy I am right now. Feels like I shouldn’t be allowed.”

“You should,” you said immediately, your fingers curling into his sleeve. “We both should.”

Twenty-four.

Peter leaned in, brushing a kiss to your temple. “Thank you for making me happy.”

“You’re being such a sap,” you mumbled, nose scrunching.. “But thank you too. For making me stupid-happy.”

He pulled back and gasped, mock-offended. “Can’t believe you’re being affectionate.”

“Keep talking and I’ll stop.” You furrowed your brows at him, though your voice was soft. He just retucked the scarf a little tighter around your neck.

“I do love you though, y’know.”

He nodded, a gentle smile on his face. “Of course I know. Even when you’re pretending to hate me.”

“Especially then,” you grinned.

Ten.

“Ready?” he murmured.

You tilted your head up to look at him. “Always.”

Five.

Four.

Three.

He leaned in slowly, one hand cradling your face, the other steady on your waist.

Two.

One.

His lips moved against yours like he was trying to tell you something without saying anything at all. And for the first time in a long time, you weren’t afraid of what came next. You weren’t pretending anymore. You had him—and he had you. It was so stupidly simple, it almost made you laugh.

But you’d had your seven minutes. And somehow, you got everything after, too.

taglist: @keshet2k @caramelfondu @dayastarkorwtvr @coralperfectiondream @matts-247@trueellivingx @valuoie @spfoah @dcmanster@lnmp89 @love7poetry @kers505 @mericas-ass

[seungfl0wer]

*𝙄𝙫𝙚 𝙂𝙤𝙩 𝙔𝙤𝙪*

Pairing: Changbin x Reader (Fem)

Genre: Angst (Happy ending of course)

Warnings: Abusive father! Violence, Blood, Alcohol, Sick mother, Lots of cursing. Father is a real piece of shit and puts hands on reader multiple times. Sorry for any mistakes or missing tags.

Just for another warning because I think it’s important. This has content that could trigger some people. Please please read the warnings. If any of them make you uncomfortable please don’t read. Also a reminder. You’re not alone. No one ever should be laying their hands on you. I love you. You’re loved. You don’t ever deserve anything like this.

Find The Request Here

-🖤

Changbin wrapped his arms around you pulling you close to him. He kissed your neck tenderly nuzzling himself into your neck. You both were snuggled up on the couch watching a show. “My angel” he said softly before softly kissing your neck once more. When you were with him it felt like nothing else mattered like the world was alright. Your moment of happiness was short lived though seeing your phone buzzing. It was your father. Just seeing his name flash on your phone made you anxious.

After your mother had passed away your dad became an even bigger monster. He was always a good for nothing, But now not working as much as he did he stayed home drinking. Your mother had told you before the only reason she had stayed with him was because she didn’t have anywhere else to go. Her family was from another country, she didn’t have much money or friends. She was such a brave woman though. You don’t know how she dealt with him so long but I guess him never really being home helped. He had gotten fired from his big job because of his drinking and anger problems. Going to work one day hungover and punching a coworker so hard it broke his nose. He had to pay a hefty fine for that. Now he has a slow job where he only works a few days.

One of your earliest memories of him being his asshole self was him telling you how he hated that you were a girl. He hated that in his words ‘that useless bitch couldn’t even give me a boy.’ He wanted a son so badly and he made sure you knew that. He never really bonded with you however he’d be damned if you didn’t respect his authority. The first time he ever laid hands on you, you were 9. You accidentally knocked over a table braking the lamp that was placed on it. He grabbed you by the wrist smacking you across the face. ‘You stupid fucking brat! Look what you did, you’re just like your fucking mother!’ He spat pushing you away from him.

After that day it just kept going. Having to wear long sleeves at school to hide the bruises. At one point you had to stay home for almost a week. You had stepped in front of him to protect your mom when he hit you square in the face busting your lip. It stayed swollen and bruised for a while. Tooth slightly cracked from the incident.

You wanted so badly to tell someone. Confide in a teacher anything. You were scared to though. Scared they’d blame your mom, put her in jail and take you away. So you endured it. As your mom started to get sick he turned more of his attacks on you. Although a complete peace of shit he wasn’t stupid. He knew if he did anything to her the doctors would see it.

After she had passed you kept yourself from the house as best as you could. Not going home as much as you possibly could. You got a job at a cafe down the road and that’s how you met changbin. He was a regular who once you started talking admitted to only coming so much to see you.

You kept your home life a secret to him as much as you could but one day you were getting intimate you forgot about the bruises. When he had lifted your shirt his smile dropped. He looked at you with wide eyes “what the fuck? Who did this to you?” He said clenching his jaw. All you could do was sob he held you in his arms rubbing your back. “I’m sorry for raising my voice I just- y/n please- what happened?” He asked.

Through your sobs you told him, you unloaded everything in a word vomit of sadness. He would and wanted to go find your father. To beat him senseless, to show him how it feels but he knew you needed him more. He held you so tightly, feeling his own heart breaking from your words. Knowing a family member could do this to someone they were supposed to protect. To love and cherish just broke him. He was such a family oriented person and now he realized why you never wanted him to meet him. Never talked about him. He asked why you couldn’t just leave explaining to him how your mother wasn’t from here, how you had no family and no one else to rely on.

“Shit- it’s my dad” you said frantically picking the phone up.

“Where the fuck are you? He spat.

“I’m- I’m just at a friend’s house” you stuttered.

He laughed “sure, you’re probably slutting around. Get your fucking ass home.”

He hung up leaving you shaking. “I gotta go.” You said picking your keys up.

“Y/n you don’t have to” Changbin said with pleading eyes.

“I’m sorry.” You said before heading to the door.

Your brain wondered what was going on. Why he needed you home. As you pulled up coming through the door you saw him slumped in his usual chair. “About fucking time” he hissed. “Do something useful and go get me some more beer” he demanded.

You stood there almost dumb founded. Before he hissed again “don’t make me say it again!”

You nodded heading down to the store and getting it for him. When you got home again you sat the beer beside him. He gave you a smirk “glad you know how to listen” he chuckled. Your nose twitched at his smell, you hated being close to him. The smell of alcohol, cigarettes and B.O. always radiated off of him. He motioned for you to leave and you did slinking back to your room to text changbin.

Him: Y/n! Text me back! I’m worried!

You: I’m fine. He just wanted beer

Him: I swear I’ll end him one of these days

You: I’m gonna go to bed ok? I’ll see you in the morning! Love you!

Him: Love you to beautiful. Text me when you wake up🖤

You fell asleep shortly after always finding peace in sleep. The next few days were the same old. Going to Changbins after work going home late when you knew he’d be passed out. Today though. You had to run home for your wallet. When you walked through the door your dad was in the kitchen. You took one look around and realized something had to have happened. Things were thrown around. Smashed. Your body froze before you could go to walk back out he saw you.

“Where do you think you’re fucking going!” He yelled. He made a bee line toward you.

“I’m- I’m picking up another shift at work I just came home to grab something.” You lied.

“Bull fucking shit!” He spat.

He grabbed you by your throat lifting you up against the wall. His eyes were dark, knuckles bloody from punching the wall. “I get fucking fired from my god damn job only to come home to see you running back out? For what huh? To go fucking whore around some more?” He said. “No! There’s gonna be some fucking changes!” He screamed.

He dropped you to the floor before grabbing you by your wrist dragging you to the kitchen. “You’re gonna get another fucking job, you’re gonna start paying the other bills!” He spat. “You got it!”

When you didn’t answer right away he slapped more like punched you across the face. “Answer me bitch!” He said gritting his teeth. All you could do was nod scared for your life. You felt a warmth running down, your nose was bleeding.

“You’re fucking pathetic you know that, just like your fucking mother! That bitch. That bitch fucking deserved what she got! I’m glad she’s fucking dead!” He spat. Something had come over you at that point. You shoved back making him stumble backwards. You made a dash to the door luckily in his drunken stupor he stumbled getting back up. You ran. Not even bothering getting in your car afraid it take to long.

So you ran. You ran as fast as you could until you couldn’t anymore. You hid yourself in the bushes at the park panting. Trying to catch your breath as you fumbled to call changbin. “Hey angel” he said happily but when he heard you breathing heavy his heart sank. “Y/n what’s wrong? Are you ok?” He asked.

“I’m- I’m at the- park down- down the road- please” you stuttered out.

“Stay there I’m just down the road!” He said before grabbing his keys speeding to you.

He gripped the steering wheel afraid for what had happened. “Angel? I’m here!” He yelled out.

You peaked your head out, when he got a good look at you anger filled his body. ‘That mother fucker’ he snarled. There was no time to be angry right now though. You needed him. So desperately needed him.

He sat beside you pulling you into his arms. He took his jacket placing it around you as he whipped away the blood from your nose. He noticed the handprint mark around your neck, he gritted his teeth seething. You sobbed, holding onto him for dear life. He rubbed your back “ssh sh it’s ok angel, I’m here, I got you.” He said.

He rocked you back and forth letting your sobs subside before asking you anything. “Does it hurt?” He asked lifting your face to him looking over your nose and neck. You nodded. It hurt to swallow, hurt to breathe, everything just hurt. “Can I take you to the hospital?” He asked. You were hesitant but you nodded.

The car ride there all he could do was watch over you. Scared something could seriously be wrong. Cursing at himself for not being there. He was in the process of finding a new place. A new place so you could move in with him. The only reason you didn’t live with him now was for the fact he had other roommates and if the tenant found out about you they all could be evicted. He was gonna surprise you today with the good news, that he found a place. Close to his work and close to a bakery you had wanted to work at.

When he had gotten to the hospital they all looked at him like he had done it. They checked you over asked him a million questions. The cops being called from below to ask him questions. They weren’t completely shocked when they heard your dad’s name. He was notorious for his anger outbursts and violence. He had a list of charges that had gotten one being the man he punched at his old job. They wrote everything down, took pictures of your bruises and wounds. Asking you lots of questions before leaving.

“Y/n did you know you had a broken rib at one point?” A nurse asking you.

You shook your head.

“Looks like it happened a while ago, it fused back but not properly. You ever have sharp pains?” She asked.

“Yeah, she use to complain about side pains but they kinda just stopped.” Changbin chimed in.

“How is she right now?” Changbin asked.

“Nothings broken however you’re lucky, the pressure he had around your throat bruised your vocal cords. Any harder you could be looking at serious damage”

The nurse had left to grab some papers changbin took your hand into his. He kissed your cheek softly rubbing his thumb over yours. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there” he said softly.

You shook your head “I don’t want him hurting you either” you said looking up at him.

“I’m proud of you though, pushing back and getting yourself out of there. Your mom would be proud” he said with a small smile. His words made you smile a bit. “She definitely would.”

“I had some news to tell you” he said hoping this would make you smile.

“Yeah?” You asked.

“Yeah. I’m moving. Well we’re moving” he said with a smile. When you looked at him a bit confused his smile grew “I got a place for the two of us. Wish it could have happened sooner but-“ he said.

You wrapped your arms around him hugging him tightly “we’re gonna live together? I’ll get to spend all the time with you?” You said eagerly.

“Yep! Got the keys today!”

When the door opened you thought it was the nurse however it was an officer. “Y/n we have your father in custody. Do you have a place to stay for the mean time?” He asked looking over at your boyfriend.

“I do, but can I go back and get something’s you asked.

The officer nodded “I’ll have to escort you because it’s a crime scene now.”

You nodded.

“Whenever you get discharged we can go alright?” He said before walking out.

After you went to the house grabbing your clothes, laptop and a few things you smiled saying good riddance to this place. You had the few things from your mom packed, having nothing more in this house for you.

Moving in with changbin was something to get use to. However he helped you every step of the way. You got into much needed therapy and after your father’s sentence you felt like things were going up. As a little house warming gift Changbin had surprised you with a cat. You had bonded with him with the many times he had taken you to the cat cafe. You always said how much you wanted him and now you had him. You had your little family now.

Changbin showered you in love as usual, never missing a chance to compliment you, praise you and tell you how much he loved you. You knew in your heart your mom wherever she was, she was happy. Happy seeing her little girl finally get out of the situation. To live her life to the fullest.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

💙 If you’d like to read more of my stuff you can find it Here: Master List . Thank you for reading and if requests are open or you just wanna talk feel free to send me something🩵

Taglist: @satosugu4l @do-you-remember-summer-127 @xines16 @minh0scat @troublemaker02 @tr-mha-fan @lunearta @velvetmoonlght @minghaosimp

[cinnamongirlblogsworld]

Well, these past few days, I had a fleeting thought and debated whether I should write about it. But here we go.

read at your own risk!!!

Haunted

Lilia calderu x reader

The reader is part of the coven (let’s imagine they’re an actual coven, beyond just the Path of the Witches). It’s almost like a "Girls' Night," and everyone is gathered at Agatha’s house. You and her have always been close maybe you’re the only person, besides Rio, that she actually tolerates and respects. Your relationship is almost like a friendship, in the sense that you talk about feelings every now and then, and she always acts afterward as if it never happened lol, Agatha being Agatha.

Because of that, she notices that you might have a little crush on Lilia. And honestly, who, being a rational human being, wouldn’t?

So, you’re all eating pizza, having a few beers, hanging out in the living room when Jen suggests a game of "Truth or Dare." You hesitate, thinking, This is such a childish game, but you don’t notice the discreet, knowing smirk that Agatha flashes in your direction.

Between laughter and playful jabs, the bottle lands between you and her. Harkness leans in with a teasing grin.

"Truth or dare, baby?"

You smirk back, expecting something entirely inappropriate from her.

"Dare!"

"I dare you to give Lilia a lap dance in my closet for as long as I find it entertaining. And you can’t back out, don’t be a coward."

Time seems to freeze. You remain motionless, knowing she knew but you never thought she’d actually do something about it.

"That bitch."

From one side, you hear Jen’s uncontrollable laughter; on the other, Alice’s wide-eyed stare looks like it might burn a hole through you. But something else stirs deep inside you, something that makes your whole body feel like it’s seconds away from bursting into flames.

Slowly, you lift your gaze toward Lilia, expecting complete disdain at the suggestion. But what you see makes your heartbeat thunder in your ears.

She holds a wine glass, having just taken a generous sip. Her tongue flicks out to wet her lips, and her eyes oh, her eyes are locked onto you, piercing, as if she can see beyond what you’d ever let anyone else witness.

"So?" she hums. "What are we waiting for?"

"W-What? You’re actually going along with this?"

For the first time, you speak after what feels like hours, though it’s only been seconds.

"Come on, darling," Lilia drawls. "Unless, of course, you don’t want to. Not that it’d be a hardship for me to be there with you. I might even enjoy the private show."

Your thoughts spiral. This is insane. How did things escalate this quickly?

Agatha, clearly entertained, throws her hands up. "Lilia Calderu, I knew I liked you, girl!"

Lilia rolls her eyes at the comment but doesn’t deny anything.

And just like that, you find yourself inside the closet locked in by Agatha.

Your clothes disappear, leaving you in nothing but lingerie, while a sensual song begins playing in the background yet another ridiculous Agatha stunt.

"Fucking hell."

Lilia sits in a chair, watching you. No, devouring you with her gaze, as if the sheer lack of fabric on your body is an invitation. There’s something in her eyes, something like hunger but no, it couldn’t be. She wouldn’t look at you like that... would she?

Heat spreads through you, searing, setting every nerve alight. The blood in your veins turns molten. You take a breath, fighting for composure.

Your body moves, fluid and slow. Your hands skim your own skin in a way that makes confidence bloom within you. You step toward her, swaying your hips with deliberate grace, your gaze never leaving hers. Your hair tumbles around you like a living thing, shifting with every movement.

You turn your back to her, slipping the straps of your bra off your shoulders but never removing it. A teasing glance over your shoulder, a smirk playing on your lips.

But when you see her biting her lip, watching you like that oh, you shudder all over.

And then you lower yourself into her lap, the warmth of her body against your bare skin making you dizzy. The energy radiating from her coils around you, drawing you in. You roll your hips, slow, deliberate. This is just a game, just a dare, nothing more... right?

She hasn’t touched you. Not once. Not until

A pair of firm hands grip your waist. And then, in a surge of strength, she lifts you effortlessly.

You gasp, thrown off balance, eyes wide as she spins you around to face her.

"L-Lilia"

"Shh, darling."

Lilia Calderu is a force of nature unyielding, commanding, and utterly intoxicating. She cages you between her and the wall, making you feel utterly trapped no escape, no thoughts, only her.

One of her ring-clad hands trails up to your throat, fingers curling gently before tightening just enough to steal your breath.

Your body burns. Shakes. The submission she draws from you is instinctual, primal, absolute.

Your legs press together in desperation, but she notices. Of course, she does.

She shoves you downward. "Kneel."

It’s not a request. It’s a command, sharp and unwavering.

You drop instantly, sinking to your knees before her, eyes lifting to meet her gaze. The way she looks down at you makes you shiver.

She grips your hair, yanking your head back with a force that hurts but the pain only fuels the fire inside you.

Deprived of attention, you lean your face against her thick, prominent thigh, and slide your face across the area, seeking raw and crude contact. She looks at you and smiles pretentiously, almost motivated by this reaction. You raise your face a little more, until your intimate area, pressing your nose there. Damn, her scent flooded your being, and you just wanted to beg, plead in her name, like a miserable person cries out to God.

Then, she pushes you away.

"Open your mouth."

You gulp, but you do it. No hesitation.

"Good girl..." Her voice is pure sin. "I knew you had this pathetic little urge to be used."

She leans down, whispering against your lips, "You do realize I’m old enough to be your mother, right? Don’t you have any shame?"

Her fingers trace your jawline, tilting your chin up. The glint in her eyes is nothing short of wicked.

Your mouth opens, but no words come out. Silence is consent.

"Of course, you wouldn’t," she taunts. "How pathetic."

Her fingers push past your lips, forcing themselves inside, making you choke, making your throat constrict around the intrusion. You’re drenched for her, dripping, needy.

Tears prick at your eyes as you suck around them, tongue swirling over her rings, leaving them slick just like you.

Nothing else exists but this.

You want me?

I walk down the hallway

You're lucky

The bedroom’s my runway

Slap me!

I'm pinned to the doorway

A wet sound her fingers leaving your mouth.

You gasp, panting, feeling the unbearable loss.

She releases your hair, but you stay put, unmoving, waiting.

"You’d do anything for me, wouldn’t you?"

You nod. No hesitation.

She pulls you up, and your knees ache, but you don’t care.

Her nose trails along your neck, breathing you in, reveling in your warmth.

She exhales, her lips brushing against your ear.

"I’m going to take care of you, darling."

The sound of a slap echoes through the room a firm strike against your sex, from bottom to top, reverberating to the core of your cells. No coherent thought crosses your mind.

"But first, I need relief. I want the image of your pretty little face all messy because of me, between my legs. My thighs framing your neck while I feel your tongue licking me until I come."

"You want that too, don’t you, darling?" "I know you do."

.

.

.

.

Well, I don't know what that was but it's been on my mind for a while, comments are welcome so I don't feel crazy alone lol

[whowantslovergirl]

Good Graces

track three of the short n sweet series

Nate Jacobs x reader (reader is female with she/her pronouns)

warnings: cursing, nate, y/n being a bad bitch fr

Summary: If Nate wants to stay with you he has to stay in your good graces

posted: Nov. 20, 2024

I won't give a fuck about you

You were after Maddy and Cassie and you were nothing like Nate ever experienced. It’s not like Maddy didn’t have self respect but she still went back to him. But you, you are different. All the shit that slide with Maddy you would never let that slide.

One time you told him straight up if he mess up again you won’t give a fuck about him anymore.

But something about your confidence he was so intrigued with.

When I love you, I'm sweet like an angel

Drawin' hearts 'round our names and dreamin' of

Writing vows, rocking cradles

You and Nate have been dating for five months and you’re already in love. In every class you’ve been drawing hearts around your names.

After school you’re dreaming about vows that you would say to him and he would say to you.

Even babies crossed your mind.

______

Then when you were going to meet him before you guys walk to class together and you see him making this other girl laugh. He sees you and walk up to you with a smile on his face.

“Nate who was that girl?”

“Just a girl in my class.”

“I’m really trying to spare you so don’t mistake my nice for naive okay?” He nodded and wrapped his arm around your shoulder and walk you to class.

I don't waste a second, I know lots of guys

You do something suspect, as cute as "bye-bye"

Yesterday Nate said bye bye and later that night the same girl who he was making laugh posted a video of her in his truck.

He really thinks you’re an idiot.

______

The next day you blocked him and are now talking to another guy and he’s making you laugh.

You don’t really waste a second when it comes to moving on. You know lots of guys who are just waiting for you to text them.

______

Like, ooh, baby, you say you really like it being mine

So let me give you some advice

Nate was in your house begging you to forgive him.

“I really like it being yours and I didn’t know she was going to do that. I’m so sorry please forgive me. And nothing happened she tried but I really was just talking her home.”

You ended up forgiving him. What can you say?

He has a good tongue.

Boy, it's not that complicated

You should stay in my good graces

Or I'll switch it up like that, so fast

'Cause no one's more amazing at turning loving into hatred

After he was done you pulled him up by his hair. “This does not mean I forgive you. If you want to be mine or whatever you have to stay in my good graces.”

He doesn’t know how fast you can turn loving into hatred.

(I won't give a fuck about you)

I'll tell the world you finish your chores prematurely

“Yea he only lasts like ten seconds.” Nate fucked up again so you’re telling everyone he finishes early.

You told him not to fuck up so that’s his fault. Not yours.

Break my heart, and I swear I'm movin' on

Nate heard about the stuff you were saying and went to confront you but you were making out with another guy by his locker.

He has no idea how you moved on that fast.

Want you every second, don't need other guys

You do something sus', kiss my cute ass bye-ye-ye

You got back with Nate because other guys were boring.

______

You were getting ready for a date when Nate texted you.

Nate <3

something came up sorry

Y/n

kiss my ass

Boy, it's not that complicated

You should stay in my good graces

Or I'll switch it up like that, so fast

'Cause no one's more amazing at turning loving into hatred

When you told Nate to kiss your ass you were going to apologize but that was before you saw him with another girl that night.

So now you officially don’t give a fuck about this or him.

No, I won't, I won't give a fuck about you

He kept trying to make big gestures so you can forgive him but like you told him before you won’t give a fuck about him.

He didn’t actually believe that.

He never dealt with someone like you before.

No, I won't, I won't give a fuck about you

An: im on my grind yall

[queen-of-deans-booty]

Checkmate

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.5k

Warnings: angst, murder, fearful for your life, psycho ex

Summary: You work as a maid for the richest and most eligible bachelor. You go to his mansion twice a week and clean his house, and you make pretty good money doing it. The only issue? Your psycho ex, but Dean shows you that he might be just a tad worse than Isaac.

Square Filled: maid au (2023) for @spnaubingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

x

Another day, another eight hours spent in this mansion. This is a place you can never see yourself living in only because you can’t ever think to make as much money as your boss does. From what you know, he’s the CEO of two companies, has investments in other places, and is just really smart about managing his money. You don’t see him often since he spends most of his time in his office or not at the house at all, but he did hire you to clean his mansion. He pays you generously, more than you have ever made in your life, twice even.

He’s very generous but you hear he’s a cold-hearted bitch. He’s the most respected and most eligible bachelor this state has ever seen, but he can be as cold as ice. You’ve walked past his office before and have overheard him yelling at people more than once. You do not want to be on the receiving end of that cold stare, so it’s best if you keep your head down and clean as best as you can without getting in his way.

You walk into the kitchen carrying five bouquets of bright and colorful flowers. Dean doesn’t like to keep color in his mansion--only black, gray, and white--so the flowers stand out beautifully. He doesn’t seem to mind since they don’t move once you put them up. Before you get started cleaning, you replace the old flowers with the new ones and toss the old ones into the trash.

Normally, you connect your speaker to your phone and use music to pass the time, but you promised to call your best friend once you got here because of what happened last night. You grab the cleaning cart from the closet and start with the kitchen, and you call your best friend on FaceTime. It’s better than keeping the phone to your ear or putting in uncomfortable headphones in your ear.

“Bitch, you will never guess who just sent me a DM,” Gen says when she answers.

“Who?”

“Isaac.”

“What did he say?”

“What do you think? You rejected him last night and he thinks coming to me is the next best thing.”

Isaac used to be your boyfriend. You were blind to the red flags in the beginning of the relationship because you thought you were in love with him. He said all the right things, did all the right things, and made you feel special. He complimented you all the time, showed you off to all of his friends, and never laid a merciful hand on you.

That is, until about a year into the relationship. The red flags became so apparent that you couldn’t ignore them any longer. He became possessive, jealous, controlling, and more violent. He has never hit or slapped you, but he has grabbed you hard enough to leave bruises on your arms. You broke it off a month ago but the bitch won’t stay away from you.

He keeps showing up at your house telling you to come home and that you’re being overdramatic. He’s there when you go get coffee in the morning. He’s there when you visit your sister (he’s friends with her husband). He’s there even in your nightmares. You’re shocked he hasn’t shown up at your work. You’re not sure how Dean would take to having someone like Isaac in, on, or around his property.

“The best thing to do is ignore him. He’ll go away,” you sigh.

“I don’t think so. He was pretty adamant about getting in touch with you. My husband would have kicked his ass if he came over.”

You wipe down the counters with a sigh.

“I’m sorry this is happening to you.”

“I think you should call the police.”

You roll the cart into the living room and get started dusting the surfaces.

“He hasn’t trespassed onto your property, though. What will they do?”

“He’s harassing you, Y/N. He keeps coming to your house uninvited. That’s trespassing. He was bad enough as your boyfriend, but now he’s crossing the line into psycho territory. He hurt you, Y/N. The bruises may be gone but those emotional scars are still there.”

You replace the duster and stand in the living room in thought. She does have a point but the bruises are long gone. That’s physical evidence you don’t have to use against him. He hasn’t laid a hand on you since the breakup. What will the police do?

“Yeah, I know but they won’t do anything if he hasn’t done anything. If he does, I’ll make sure to call you.”

“Yeah, I’ll fuck him up.”

You giggle at her eagerness. “I gotta go. Got lots to clean.”

“Yeah, for the hot bachelor.”

“Him being hot has nothing to do with him being a bachelor.”

“Still, you’re lucky to see that all day.”

“I rarely see him. He stays in his office all day which I’m not allowed in, by the way. If he’s not in there, he’s at his office building in town.”

“You’re single and he’s single. I’d tap that if I were you.”

“Imagine if Isaac found out. He’d kill Dean.” You roll the cart into the bathroom. “I gotta go, though.”

“Call me later.”

“Will do.”

Like you told Gen, you don’t see Dean the entire day. If it weren't for the initial interview you had with him and the short passings you’ve shared with him, you wouldn’t think he’s real. There is one thing that Gen got right. The man is hot. Gorgeous, even. If you two saw each other at a bar, you’d definitely be trying to take him home. Bright green eyes, tank skin, freckles, bow legs, and muscles for days. The man is the whole package.

After doing your eight hours, the sun is already going down. You leave the invoice for Dean on the kitchen counter as he requests before returning the cleaning cart and packing up your things. You walk across Dean’s lawn to get to your car but pause when you see someone standing in your way.

“What the hell are you doing here?” you hiss at your ex. “How did you know where I work? How did you get past the fence?”

“I know everything about you, baby. I’m here to see if you’re done being dramatic.”

“Being dramatic? You’re a psycho!”

“I call that determination.”

“Okay, Isaac, I need you to leave. We broke up and this is highly inappropriate. Plus, Dean isn’t going to be happy when he finds you loitering on his property.”

“Who the fuck is Dean?”

“Isaac, please leave. I don’t want you here. I don’t want you in my life anymore. Show up uninvited again, and I will call the police.”

You try to walk past him but Isaac isn’t taking no for an answer. He grabs your arm so tightly you think there will be bruises there tomorrow. 

“If I were you, I’d get your hand off her.”

You and Isaac turn to see Dean standing about twenty feet away.

“Who the fuck are you?” Isaac snaps.

“The fuck person who owns this property. Get your hands off her.”

Isaac listens and you move your arm to get the blood flowing again.

“Come on, Y/N, let’s go home.”

“No, I’m not going anywhere with you. Just leave me alone.”

“Are you deaf? No means no.”

“No offense, dude, but she’s mine, okay?”

“Not on my property, she isn’t.” Dean narrows his eyes.

“Your property?”

“Yes, touch her again and I’ll decorate your remains across it.”

“Whatever,” Isaac scoffs. “Call me when you’re done being dramatic.”

Isaac turns and leaves until you can’t see him anymore.

“Did he hurt you?”

“No, I’m fine.” Dean doesn't believe you but he’ll let it go for now. “I’m sorry about that.”

“No need to apologize. It’s not your fault, but you’re not going home. Come on, you’ll stay here for the night.”

Dean turns and starts walking back toward his house. You don’t know what to do but you feel yourself following him. It’s like your legs have a mind of their own.

“No, it’s okay.”

“I’m not a man who takes no for an answer, Y/N.”

Damn, that’s hot. You’re definitely thinking with your vagina and not your head. You should get in your car and go home but something compels you to stay here with Dean.

“Would you really have scattered his remains across your lawn?” you ask when you catch up to him.

“Which answer would make you feel better?”

“Never mind. Don’t answer that.”

Dean chuckles and leads you up the stairs. “Do you have a friend you can stay with?”

“Yes.”

“Good. You can stay with her tomorrow. Isaac won’t be a problem much longer.”

You’re too scared and too turned on to ask follow-up questions. He takes you to a spare bedroom and opens the door for you.

“Thank you, Dean.”

“Anytime, sweetheart. I’m right down the hall if you need me.”

He leaves you alone, but you’re not sure what to do now. In less than twenty-four hours, you’ve gone from working for Dean to sleeping in the bedroom next to his. He’s now on Isaac’s radar but you have a feeling Dean can take him out before he even knows what’s happening.

x

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[b1mbodoll]

what about hybrid! g!p! wony. even if ur her owner, that doesn’t mean ur her master so maybe she’ll have to bend u over n breed u, knock u up to remind u who’s really in charge ;)

pairings: jang wonyoung x f! reader

warnings: hybrids + g!p + knotting + a/b/o dynamics + breeding + omorashi + collars + jealousy

💌: ive spent so much time keeping this to myself bc i have soso many thoughts n i cant write them all down fast enough </3 i hope u like this bc im obsessed

wolf hybrid wony! is a pain in the ass. it’s been weeks since you brought her home and she’s given you nothing but trouble. doesn’t respect you one bit n tears your house apart when youre out with friends, growling at you when you return n locking herself in her room. when you fall asleep she’s pulling her cock out ‘nd relieving herself on you because how dare you come back smelling like other women, you’re her omega and she needs to mark you up since you wanna be a brat.

when you wake up drenched in her piss, you snap at her. “bad dog! very bad dog! don’t ever do this again!” but wonyoung pays you no mind. doesn’t care that you threaten to send her to obedience classes, just wonders how stupid you can be. do you really think a couple of obedience classes are gonna stop her from getting what she wants?

as far as she’s concerned you need some manners fucked into you since you want to deny her the right to use your holes. the last straw is when you try collaring her, don’t you know only knotsluts wear collars? she’s on you in a second, canines bared as she shoves you on the ground, her dick pressing right against your cunt. the tension is palpable and you do your best to defuse the situation, “wony, what’s wrong? get off, honey ‘s okay, ‘m not gonna punish you if you listen to me n let go.” the wolf girl laughs at you n leans in close, her teeth dangerously close to your ear, “no you listen to me, omega. ‘m not some fucking bitch you get to push around, you live to serve me.” she’s angry now, “if you jus’ submit to me earlier i wouldn’t have t’do this” her claws shred your shorts and panties, revealing your wet pussy. tears spring to your eyes as you reach a hand behind you in an attempt push her away, “no! wony don’t do this! ‘m sorry” she doesn’t bother replying, it’s too late to beg for forgiveness and she fills your pussy in one thrust, the sting from her splitting you open and penetrating your womb makes you drool.

wonyoung grabs the collar you dropped and slips it around your throat, the leather choking you in the best way. “take my fuckin’ knot, omega. gonna fuck you full of my pups ‘n make you a mommy” your pussy clenches around her as the base of her cock grows, her knot slipping inside and keeping you plugged full of cum. “g’nna train you to be my knotslut” she tells you n she’s so proud of herself for finally bitching you into submission, whines when you start calling her alpha n begging for her knot n cum again and again <3

[its-time-to-write]

chapter 7

y’all I am SO SORRY this is so late. I’ve been caught up with end-of-year stuff at work and planning for next year. but I’m posting the last two chapters now🙃

I’m not sure how active I’ll be moving forward lol, 2025 is shaping up to be a pretty big year for me, professionally speaking, and that either means I’ll have more free time or less. Idk. But thank you for supporting my writing!!! You guys make me happy🩵🩵🩵

table of contents

found god at your ex’s house

To be entirely honest, the longest and only conversation you’ve ever had with goddamn Keeley Jones was at the Prada show right before you found out about Bean’s existence. 

You’d prefer to keep it that way but fucking Madeline is friends with her so now you’re headed to a stupid, awful, horrible girls’ night at her house and you��d rather fucking die.

Okay, maybe that’s a little dramatic. But your experiences concerning Keeley have been unpleasant at best. 

She first caught your notice in a tabloid on a yacht with Jamie and a screaming headline to match your screaming mind. It was two weeks after Jamie came over for the last time and apparently not enough time to get over him.

You’d gone straight to Madeline’s to scream into a pillow.

Then she was in your instagram, and when you had blocked her she appeared in fan edits and fucking WAG accounts. Then she was at the Prada show and in magazines and on the telly. It felt like no matter how much you tried to shut her out, Keeley fucking Jones remained as a painful reminder.

It wasn’t her fault per se, but you hated the role she played in Jamie’s deterioration. 

And now Madeline is fucking friends with her.

“What the actual hell, Madeline,” you groan. “Keeley fucking Jones? Are you serious? She’s the fucking worst. AND she’s not to be trusted! The girl hardly has two braincells to rub together.”

Madeline rolls her eyes. “I understand that you hate her. But she’s kind and sweet and actually a bit brilliant. I’m not going to tell her about you or Bean, but she’s not some vile, boyfriend-stealing bitch.”

“I’m not saying that,” you reply as you try to get Clare to burp. “I’m just saying that the girl could stand to grow up a little.”

“That’s what I’m trying to tell you. She has. I think you’d like her.”

“Fuck off,” you scoff right as Clare burps. “See? Clare agrees.”

Madeline shrugs. “Clare is three months old. She doesn’t get a vote.”

You wrinkle your nose and say, “You mean unless she agrees with you, right?” and Madeline smiles her most angelic smile. 

“All I’m saying is you’re more than welcome to come with me tonight.”

“I’d rather die,” you inform her.

—

Jamie has the day off. They won against Aston Villa on Sunday so he’s supposed to be resting, but he’s never been very good at that.

So he does what any self-respecting person would do and goes to his ex’s house.

He forgets Roy fucking Kent is going to be there until the man himself has opened the door but Jamie musters up some arrogance and breezes right by him. Keeley knows he’s coming anyway, so he’s not going to be harassed by some grumpy old twat.

Roy must be sick or something because he doesn’t say anything. If Jamie weren’t so consumed with his own worries he might actually be concerned.

But he’s not so he sits on Keeley’s couch like he belongs there and lets her hand him a cup of tea before she sits down next to him.

Roy isn’t far off, pretending to read a book but Jamie is abso-fucking-lutely positive he hasn’t turned a single page yet.

But absolutely FUCK it because he needs Keeley’s professional, girl opinion.

“I’ve got a kid,” he says, and both Keeley and Roy do absolutely horrible jobs at pretending they’re shocked.

“Fuck off, how the fuck did you know?” he protests. “Was it Ted?”

Roy and Keeley exchange a Look and it just makes Jamie madder.

“Technically it was Coach Beard,” Keeley says in a mousy voice. “We figured you’d tell us when you were ready, Jamie.”

That’s just confusing. “How the fuck did Beard know?” he asks.

“Kid looks just fucking like you,” Roy says and that makes Jamie mad too because when the fuck did Roy see Clare?

“I saw them on the green when I was with Phoebe,” Roy clarifies and Jamie takes a minute to file that away as Roy Kent’s first-ever non-swearing sentence.

He says, “fucking hell,” because really, fucking hell. He went from not knowing he had a baby to knowing to apparently the whole Richmond coaching staff knowing (and apparently meeting) her.

Keeley asks, “Is that why you’re here, babes?” and her gentle voice actually makes him want to fucking cry so he just nods and puts his head in his hands.

“Don’t know shit about being a dad,” he says, voice muffled, and Roy slams his book shut because apparently he has shit to say.

“Fuck off, Tartt,” he says. “Stop being a little bitch.”

Keeley exclaims, “Roy!” but she’s also curious about what he has to say because she doesn’t do anything else to stop him.

“I fucking mean it,” he continues. “You fucking come here expecting to fucking cry on the couch and be told you’re fucking shit at something and throw a fucking pity party, so fuck off. You might be a shit father, you don’t fucking know, but that girl doesn’t fucking think so and if I were her, I’d hate your fucking guts. So untwist your fucking pants and stop being a fucking whiny little bitch. Go fucking be a dad and if you’re shit, you’re shit. But stop looking for fucking sympathy for something you’ve made up in your stupid fucking twat brain.”

With that he pushes himself out of his chair, swears at his knee, and disappears into the kitchen, presumably to remain silent for the next year since he’s met his word quota.

Jamie looks at Keeley as if to say, Are you hearing this prick? but Keeley just lifts a shoulder and says, “He’s right, babe. You’ve got to actually go do something about it.”

So Jamie pinches the bridge of his nose and recounts everything his mum told him over the phone for some extra review.

—

Clare is easy, as far as babies go, but for some reason tonight she’s decided to be an absolute terror. She won’t eat, won’t go to sleep, won’t calm down. She just cries and cries and no matter how many times you check her temperature or her diaper, she cannot get it back together.

It doesn’t help that you’re tired, either. Like, newborn-level tired. And hungry, too. You’d order in but Clare hasn’t even allowed that so you open the fridge as best you can while bouncing Clare up and down. All you can see is a jar of gherkins, a can of soda, and some lemons. 

And a fucking banana which must be Madeline’s because you’d rather die of starvation than eat that shit.

Fucking hell.

I am not going to cry you tell yourself sternly, except that doesn’t do anything except allow tears to well up faster than if you’d just let it alone.

You can’t call Madeline because she’s at Keeley’s and you’ll be damned if you interrupt her girls’ night. Madeline didn’t sign up to be tied down and she deserves a non-parent friend, so she’s not an option.

For a split second, you debate calling Jamie. But that’s a level of desperation you haven’t quite reached. You close the fridge and are saved from deciding what to do next by a knock on the door.

Clare wails like she’s being murdered, so you hope it isn’t the police but it isn’t, it’s just Jamie with a bag of groceries. He’s in the house setting up in the kitchen before your brain catches up with your eyes and Clare just cries the whole time. 

You know exactly what he’s making before he’s even pulled out half the ingredients. It’s chicken pesto risotto, the dish you always begged him to make whenever he had a moment of free time. Jamie can cook maybe four things in total, but damn he can cook them well. He slices some bread, puts it on a plate with some butter and hands it to you, swapping the plate for Clare so easily that if you didn’t know better you’d think he’s been doing it his whole life. She stops crying the moment she’s in his arms and honestly, you’re too tired to worry about it. You crash on the couch and fall asleep after two bites.

It’s dark out when you wake up, but the lights are on in the house and it’s warm. Someone’s gently caressing the top of your head and saying your name, so you open your eyes to Jamie standing over you.

He’s looking at you with a soft expression, and your heart aches. It all feels too painfully normal.

He says, “Food’s ready,” and holds out a hand for you to grab.

You hesitate for the barest fraction of a moment before taking it. “Little Bean’s asleep in her bed,” he continues. “You hungry? Figured we could eat then you can go back to sleep.”

You nod. “Smells good, J. Are you planning on spending the night, then?”

Jamie shrugs. “I thought- I don’t know, I thought maybe you could use a break.”

He sits next to you at the table. The food’s been set out, and it’s still warm. It’s also the first meal you haven’t been responsible for in a good long while.

“So you’re just here now,” you say. “You’re the kind of person who shows up, cooks dinner, puts the baby to bed and watches telly in the evenings? You could barely handle a relationship, and now you want a fucking family? You can leave me all you want, but I swear to God, Jamie, I will murder you if you hurt Clare.”

It’s frustrating because it feels like you’re at an impasse. Jamie can come back once he’s shown he’s changed, but he can’t really show he’s changed if he can’t fucking come back, can he?

It doesn’t matter that he probably has changed and you know deep down that even he isn’t a big enough dick to abandon his daughter.

Jamie says, “I am. I mean, I won’t. I mean, fucking hell, you don’t have to fucking murder me, yeah? Just give me a chance, like.”

You snort. “Do you even know how to change a diaper?”

Jamie says, “Googled it, didn’t I?” and that makes you genuinely laugh. Of course he did. But you laugh too loud and it wakes up Clare, who lets you know she’s irritated with a shriek. You knock your head lightly against the table and whisper, “Fuck,” before putting down your fork. You push your chair out and Jamie stands, lightning-fast.

“I got it,” he tells you, and you raise an eyebrow.

You reply, “Okay,” because if he’s going to act like a father, he’s going to have to put in the work. And you’re hungry and this is your favorite meal. Besides, what’s the worst that’s going to happen?

So Jamie goes to Clare’s room where she’s sobbing like there’s no tomorrow and you continue to eat while straining your ears to make sure Jamie isn’t panicking.

Unfortunately, you didn’t account for the fact that the worst thing that could happen is Jamie comes back out after ten minutes with a sleeping Clare on his chest and he looks so fucking hot that you want to jump his bones then and there. 

Jamie is thankfully oblivious. He sits back down and pats Clare on the back so she doesn’t wake up again.

“How’s the food?” he whispers. “Haven’t cooked in fuckin’ ages.”

“Good,” you whisper back and then you lapse into silence. 

 “I can stay the night, if you want,” Jamie offers after a bit, and you glare.

“Not like that,” he hastily amends, “I mean if you want to sleep. I can feed Clare and whatever.”

You sigh and pinch the bridge of your nose. “Jamie. What the fuck do you want from me? You can’t fucking come back here and play house when you want, and I get it, your dad’s a piece of shit and you don’t want to be like him. But you’re in the fucking Prem, Jamie.”

(“Got relegated,”) he mouths, but you just keep talking. “Fine. You’re in the Championship but everyone knows you at least are making it back to the Premier League and someday you’ll be with a team in the Champion’s League and that’s a lot of travel. It’s a lot of nights alone, and you’re not exactly the kind of person who likes sleeping alone.

Jamie looks offended at that, but it’s true. He’s twenty-six and in his prime.

This whole thing is just one giant circle with no solution. 

“Oi,” he says, and he’s got his serious expression on. “I don’t want anything from you. I want you. Not even because of Clare, but she’s mint. I was coming to find you the other night because I wanted to fix things. I told you that. I meant it, I want to get back together. I know I’m hard to love sometimes but swear down, I want to make it work. Keeley’s on me about commitment and shit and I dunno, it sounds nice. I’m fucking tired of fucking around. That shit’s exhausting.”

“Yeah, because a baby and a girlfriend isn’t fucking exhausting as well.”

Jamie wrinkles his nose. “Fucking Garnacho’s having a kid. If that little shit can handle it, I can too.”

You concede. He has a point. “Fine. You can spend the night. I’m going to shower and then pass out, which means you’ve got the dishes and Clare. You can sleep in the guest room, yeah? I’ll set up the baby monitor.”

Jamie smiles, and before you can really think it through, you lean over to kiss his cheek.

“Thank you,” you say softly before heading upstairs. You’re going to get an earful from Madeline later, but for now you’re going to get good sleep for the first night in a long while.

next chapter

[bihanspookies]

Was chatting with @chadillacboseman about fucking kuai liang, bi han and liu kang at the airport bc I was wondering how they got to johnnys house.

Like did they go on a plane or

Only to realize liu probably opened a portal but I like the airport idea better.

Anyway

Kuai Liang and Bi Han at the airport:

• I just know they’d both want to go in their bright ass uniforms and liu kang is like 🤨…no. He makes them change into civilian clothing (with their respective colors still) and bi han is bitching

• traveling for fucking ever and they got a layover in Chicago

• Liu goes to get them tea from Starbucks and thinks surely nothing can go wrong leaving the two of them alone

• Kuai Liang is fine, he’s okay sitting there just waiting, people watching etc etc etc. Still intimidating looking let’s be real

• Bi han is sitting with his arms crossed, grumpy af, perma-scowl on his face and you just so happened to be sitting across from him trying not to stare but you’re like 👁️👄👁️

• You think ‘boy oh boy I hope they’re not on my flight’ as you subtly not so subtly try to look at them

• They know you’re looking

• Liu kang finally returns with their drinks, bi han takes one sip and says it tastes like shit and then they start calling to board the plane

• You’re first class bc yes bitch 💅 but then you see them also getting up

• You board, all is good and dandy, middle seat unfortunately but that’s okay. And then you see the two of them come to your aisle and you just 🧍‍♂️

• Squished between two muscular men, trying not to bother either one of them

• Don’t even bother looking out the window bc bi han brings the visor down, wanting to try and get some shut eye. He doesn’t.

• They start speaking a different language right over your head, you just so happen to know it’s either Cantonese or Mandarin (it’s Mandarin). The one in blue clutching your shared arm rest so hard that you swear he could snap it off. The one in orange shaking his head and rolling his eyes. But you keep picking up the words ‘Johnny cage’.

• Like the actor?

• Time for snacks and you want the bag of pretzels, ready to claim it when the attendant asks what would you like

• Unfortunately bi han also wants the pretzels and just straight up demands it, grabbing it past your nose and ripping the bag open

• You give him the side eye

• The rest of the flight is unbearably awkward, doing your best to make yourself unseen and just listen to your tunes until finally you land in good ol LA

• luckily you’re close to the front of the plane but unluckily you gotta wait for orange brother to get up first.

• He helps you get your bag down ✨

• Bi han grouches at him to hurry tf up

• You eventually scurry off the plane and watch the two of them and the liu kang make their way down the walkway and quickly out, wondering if comic con had come early this year.

Bonus:

• kuai Liang stops at every gift shop because he wants to look and bi han bitches at him to hurry tf up

• “we have no use for this bauble, kuai liang.”

• “But brother—“ *holds up keychain that says ‘all I got is this stupid keychain’ and walks to the counter* it’s for tomas who couldn’t make it.”

• if they eat at the airport restaurant bi han treats himself to margs and kuai Liang plays the little tablet games

• bi han also beefs with an 8 yr old who looks at him funny