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#WHO TAUGHT YOU TO SAY THAT WHO ARE YOU HANGING AROUND
androsanctum · 2 days
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A bro will always stand out among the crowd. Literally.
Some people will make comments about how a bro places way too much importance on his body or that he's too "self-absorbed", but they secretly envy what he has. They envy his confidence and they envy his determination to achieve his goals.
But those who look past those things and see a bro for who he truly is, they know there's no better company to have. A bro brings joy wherever he goes. His high energy and upbeatness make him the life of whatever event, gathering, or hang out he happens to be in. He's there to have fun and he wants to make sure everyone around him is having a great time.
A bro is also patient and diligent. The consistency and patience required to achieve his physique has taught him many lessons in discipline, which he carries over with him in every aspect of his life.
A bro will push you to be your best self. He's the one who'll give you a warm, wide smile when you say you're "ready to give this gym thing a try". He'll be the one nudging you to get more serious about your fitness journey and he'll be happy to show you how to perform that difficult exercise. And when you finally hit that PR, he'll be the one cheering alongside you.
A bro is one of the most chill people you'll ever meet. When life becomes about enjoying the moment, working on yourself and your body, becoming the man you want to become, and engaging in your hobbies, there's no time for drama or feeding negativity. He's not interested in that. Instead, a bro's energy will bring about the realization that life is here to be lived and appreciated in its simplicity.
Sure, a bro may put a lot of importance on his fitness life and he can be cocky, but being a bro is much more than that. Appreciate the bros in your life.
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arttuff · 9 months
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WHO TAUGHT YOU THAT
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elizzsush · 4 months
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Beastmen Courting Rituals | TWST
Savanaclaw Dorm X Reader
Leona X Reader, Ruggie X Reader, Jack X Reader,
---- BeastFolk typically have instinctual ways they begin 'courting' or a relationship, some even taught from a young age certain courting rituals. (Non-Human courting rituals part 1/3)
Note: Fun fact, I began making Fae courting first but then I posted the future kid thing and didn't want to post two Diasomnia so close together!
Octavinelle Ver | Diasomnia Ver.
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Jack:
It started very small, one day he was there, the next he was there again, and the next he was also there.
He was always there.
Then it got a bit... weird? You noticed that when he would approach you, he was making this grumbling, whining sounds? You don't even think he realized it. You chose to ignore this fact for now, maybe it was just because he was a beast man? You didn't want to be rude by saying anything- or make him feel embarrassed.
After that he began to help you with your hair more as well. Well, your general appearance. He'd help you fix your uniform and brush off any dust or anything you'd may want or need help with. In turn you helped him back, it was only fair after all!
Never mind his flushed face while you did this, moving small hairs back in place and picking any particles off his own uniform.
"There's our dynamic pair! beauty and the beast man." Ace teased, a confident grin on his face while you sat down at the table, Jack not too far behind you.
Jack just rolled his eyes, a small blush on his face as he ignored Ace. Aka, while he did the smart thing to do. You, however, have yet to learn that Despite so many months of friendship and raised an eyebrow at the Card boy. "What are you talking about." You rolled your eyes at the boy.
"You don't know? but it's so obvious!" Ace frowned, Grim nodding beside him in agreement, though you doubted he even knew what the boy was talking about. "His tail is always wagging like a fan when he's talking to ya! He's totally in l-" just as Ace was about to finish speaking Jack piped up, his ears straight on his head in an alert manner and his tail stiff behind him.
"I didn't get anything to drink when we got food." He excused himself, you tried to get a look at his face because he wasn't looking at you but he didn't look back and stood up.
Glancing at his tray, you didn't fail to notice the milk carton on it. Plush, Jack was always the prepared, diligent one. That was so odd... You glanced back at Ace only to find him laughing to himself like the funniest thing just happened. "Whatever, where is Deuce?" You rolled your eyes.
"Why should I know? I'm not his mom."
After that, Ace started calling you dense. Maybe you were because you really didn't know what the hell he was talking about.
After that it was like there was a switch in Jack. He began to be touchier, not that you minded of course! Cuddling with friends is always nice, and you liked to think it was because of his more... animalistic features and instincts he was cuddlier.
But somehow it felt more intimate. He'd nuzzle his face into your neck and hang off of you like he was a coat instead of a large man who was... well jacked.
You'd often wrestle him off of you because he had gotten into the habit of, as you said before, hanging off of you! He'd whine and almost instinctually wrestle you back to stay into his place.
You may not be as strong as him, but you also didn't hate the way he'd run with you at P.E. You knew he could easily run laps around everyone, but instead he stuck with you. Smiling at you exhausted look and cheering you on. "I'm sure Coach Vargas wouldn't mind us taking a break?" He laughs a bit awkwardly after you glared at him for suggesting it when he barely even broke a sweat.
It wasn't till after Leona off Handly mentioned something about you smelling like Jack. Even wrinkling his nose and saying that he "didn't have to lay it on that thick." That you started to think, maybe, just maybe, something else was going on here.
So, you went to the library. Got yourself your very own book (that you had to return in two weeks) on Beastfolk Mating rituals.
Suddenly, it made sense why Ace thought you were dense. Apparently, this was commonish knowledge in this world! And maybe you were ignoring pretty obvious signs now that you thought about it.
So, one afternoon when Jack was hanging off of you, that look in his eyes you hadn't noticed till now. You bit his hand. His ears straightened in surprise and he looked at you for a moment. A thick blush on his face.
"Am I dense or are you courting me?" You finally asked now that you had his attention.
"I have been for a while now..." He sheepishly admitted while not looking you in the eye.
____________
Ruggie:
He avoided you like the plague, at first.
Even now, sometimes when he's approaching you, you noticed that he might backtrack and hesitate.
Now he is a lot more relaxed, often hanging off of your shoulder. Now that he knows you won't bite his head off. His tail would wag behind him slightly while he interacted with you. A stark contrast to the stiff, alert eared boy he was just a little while ago!
You will say though, it did take some of your lunches to get here. You'd equate this process to that of getting a scared cat to approach you with treats. Now, you didn't even need the treats to get him around! He'd approach you first now too. Still with hesitance, but once he did come up to you he did seem to enjoy himself.
"He loved hanging off of you and cuddling up to you. He was very handsy, (Like most beast men, you'd later learned) His face often nuzzled into the nook of your neck. "He loved hanging off of you and cuddling up to you. He was very handsy, (Like most beast men, you'd later learned) His face often nuzzled into the nook of your neck.
"It's so weird to see a Ruggie-Senpai hang out with you so much." Deuce said off handedly one afternoon. You two were studying together when he thought of this.
"What do you mean?" You couldn't help but ask the card solider. Putting your pen down as you looked at him curiously.
The boy just shrugged, a odd look on his face. "I don't know, I just thought Hyena beast men were more... You know." he added a bit awkwardly. You decided to drop it there.
"Yeah... Anyway, I think I remember-"
The interaction stood out in your head, however. What exactly did Deuce even mean? After that interaction, you noticed a couple things as well. Beast students would look at you and nodded at you in recognition? Leona's nose would scrunch up a bit when you spoke to him (though he never made any comments on it), and when you walked into Savanaclaw a beast guy once mistook you for Ruggie before he looked at you?
What did any of that even mean?! When you asked Jack, he just said you smelt like Ruggie.
That small interaction you had with Deuce quickly began to send you down a hill of thinking about everything Ruggie ever did! How he hung off of you, and how you two hung out. It got even weirder when Ruggie offered you some food. Like he had been for a while.
This was very out of character for the Hyena boy! How did you not realize it before? So, you asked him about it. "How come you always offer me something when we eat together?"
He blushed a bit looking at you with wide eyes for a moment before shaking his head, "I do that don't I?" he laughed awkwardly, "I mean I bring food home for the neighborhood kids too. We all got to eat; you know?" He shrugged it off. You wondered what that meant, because he didn't do it with anyone else, but you failed to push him on the subject.
Your sad to say, you never fully realized what was happening till someone explained it to you.
He knocked on Ramshackle door with a handful of pretty dandelions and asked you on a date. "Perfect, would you like to um... go out with me?" he asked hesitantly, a nervous smile on his face while he put his head down. Like he was trying to protect his neck...
You said yes and it was after that Leona explained how annoying it was watching you two and basically inadvertently explained everything to you...
"That would have been helpful to know sooner." You grumbled to yourself after talking with the lion.
"Eh? Ignore him shyhehe!~ Ruggie just snickered with his usual sly smile.
____________
Leona:
Leona didn't really have time for games. If he liked, you he'd just come out and say it. At least, that's what you had first thought. Yes, he did use your lap as a pillow and you two did cuddle somewhat regularly. That didn't exactly mean anything. Right?
And yeah, Ruggie did scrunch his nose up and complain that you smelt too much like Leona, but that didn't matter. Leona probably didn't mean to do that; he was probably sleeping.
Did Leona roar at you? Yeah, so what? It was like a yawn; it just came out. No, he wasn't blushing! He couldn't be because you were already looking away in embarrassment.
Leona just didn't like you like that. No matter how many Courting book you read on beast men!
The Lion man in question invited you out to a Spelldrive tournament he had been practicing for. Obviously, you went without a second thought. It would be nice to see the lazy lion not lazing around for once! At least that's how you justified it.
You definitely didn't want to just see your crush play a match.
You couldn't help but notice the whole time, how Leona kept looking at you in your seat. Making sure you had just seen him perform. You'd smile and cheer for him and maybe, just maybe, a sense of pride would build up in his chest.
And maybe it was really nice to hear you cheer, and see you jump up from your seat in excitement. And maybe it was really nice to be able to cheer for him.
So you planned to confess to him after this game. "Leona I really liked you! I have for a while now!" And you did.
"Finally." He yawned and rubbed the back of his neck, you two then went to cuddle in the garden.
Did that mean you two were together now...?
____________
A/N: I know that some dorms aren't like nonhuman, but I can imagine that like Riddle was taught like courting customs in The Queendom of Roses, (Some queen of heart rule) or like the scalding sands have some costumes? Like the world changes because of beastmen/Fae customs and people adapted to that and added it to their own ways of approaching a relationship? Idk lol
Sorry Leona's part was quite short, I was getting tired and just wanted to get this out! But thank you for reading!
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miniimight · 5 months
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I need more dad Sukuna and mom reader fics / headcsnons, I love the way you wrote for them!!
hey anon thank you! i'm thinking about making this a series, if you guys have any ideas/requests/prompts lmk <3
PICKING UP BABY FROM SCHOOL oops, toddlers can't ride motorcyles! (dad!sukuna x mom!reader)
sukuna rolled up about twenty minutes before his daughter's school got out, deploying the kickstand of his pitch black motorcycle against the rainbow colored fencing. he pulled off his helmet, sighing deeply when he met fresh air again.
his phone buzzed against his thigh. he pulled it out of his tight cargo pocket, answering immediately when he saw your caller ID. "hey, doll."
"you got there okay?" you asked.
"mhm."
"and you're on the right side of the building? that's where her class comes out."
"mhm."
"great." you exhaled. "m'sorry i couldn't make it this time—"
"stop." he says gruffly, his phone between his shoulder and ear as he pulls off his gloves. "what are you sorry for, silly girl? you're sick and should rest."
he doesn't mind anything when it comes to his two girls, not the fifteen minute commute to her school or the half hour of waiting just to get a parking spot nice and close to the doors.
your laugh was warbled over the phone. "at least the car is air conditioned. it's been getting warmer lately."
"..." he looked down at his bike.
"ryo, baby?" you hummed.
"hm?"
"you did take the car, right?"
"..."
his silence was all you needed to hear. he tuned out your worried rambling about how the hell is your daughter going to get home on that thing in order to process. toddlers don't usually use motorcycles as a mode of transportation... and he should've thought of this before!
"it'd be fine if i had an extra seat." he mused, debating on how he could manage this situation without having to call you to get them.
"an extra seat?! not even an extra helmet?" you shrieked. "baby, i swear, if you're actually thinking about driving with my baby girl on that thing—"
"relax, doll," he grumbled, pushing down the traces of embarrassment burning at his ears. "the brat will be fine, s'just a couple blocks away. she can handle the wind."
"..."
the bell rang and the doors swung open, children pouring out of the hallway and buzzing around in search of their parents.
"she's out, we'll see you soon." he was about to hang up when he heard,
"i'm literally about to come get you, do NOT go anywhere."
he frowns, his eyes scouring the crowd of midgets for his kid. he didn't mean to make you so upset and worried. he just... overlooked important details sometimes. not his fault, he's trying his best :(
"y/n, you will sit your ass down in bed. when i come home, you better be laying down exactly how i left you." he warned. he heard your breath hitch. "you trust me, don't you, baby?"
"yes... unfortunately."
he nodded. "we'll be home soon."
"in one piece?"
he rolled his eyes, grumbling. "yes, woman."
"hm." you huffed and hung up.
he strolled into the compound. as soon as he saw those pretty eyes that creased happily when they landed on him, he smiled and crouched down.
she ran over to him, her backpack jostling behind her. she held up a painting she made. "daddy, look!"
"i see." he pulled her closer, holding the backpack off her back and letting her walk off it. he slung the bedazzled bratz backpack over his shoulder, lifting her up in his arms. "what is it?"
"for mama."
"oh. all your crafts seem to be for mama. still nothing for me." he complained with a drawn out sigh.
she rolled her eyes, and he swore he was looking at you for a second.
"don't roll your eyes at me, brat." he scoffed. "who the hell even taught you that?" he muttered under his breath.
sukuna finally stopped in front of his bike. her eyes lit up as her legs started to kick in excitement. she's only ever seen daddy ride off on this thing, now she gets to ride with him?
he swung his leg over the bike, ignoring the mix of distasteful and flirtatious looks thrown at him. "okay, kid." he exhaled, shrugging off his jacket and holding it up to her. "gotta put this on."
she turned up her nose. "stinky."
his jaw dropped open. "i showered before i came to wait half an hour for you, chubby brat. the hell do you think you're talking to?"
she looked at him as if it were obvious.
"you'll put this on now. give me mama's painting, i'll put it in your bag." he said gruffly yet gently slid the painting into her backpack with the utmost care.
the jacket drowned her, the sleeves near triple the length of her arms. sukuna zipped her up and put the helmet on her head.
she started to whine. "stinky." she wailed.
"hush." he hissed, slapping some shades on and holding her towards her chest firmly. with her protected as best as he could with what he had, and with the jeweled backpack strapped to his back, he began to roll out into the road.
that drive home was the longest thirty minutes of his life. he had never drove so slow before.
you were waiting by the front door, running down to meet them as your husband pulled into the driveway.
"oh my god oh my god," you ripped your baby from his arms, tossing the helmet off her head. "are you okay, baby?" you smoothed away the sweaty hair from her face, your lips pursing when you hear her sniffles.
"my poor baby. daddy's never gonna pick you up again, don't you worry." you peppered her face with kisses.
sukuna caught the helmet before it crashed to the ground, walking behind you with his hands in his pockets. he kissed your temple as he leaned over your shoulder to peer down at his daughter. "daddy didn't do so bad."
you glare at him, cradling your daughter's head against your chest. you whirl away and storm into the house.
he sighed.
after many apologetic kisses and a good amount of groveling, you let him do pick-ups and drop-offs again. though you made sure to watch him get into the car before he drove off.
© miniimight ! thanks for reading <3
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Could you write the scene where Ulf disrespects Jace? Reader, Jace's wife, arrives and, being a pacifist, asks Ulf to show respect in the halls of Dragonstone. She reminds him that, as a dragonseed, he should honor his ancestors' palace. However, Ulf, being arrogant and unaware, mistakes Reader for a maid rather than Crowned Princess. When Ulf moves to lay his hand on her, Jace intervenes, saying, "You dare lay a hand on your future Queen?"
Request: can i request a fic with jace where she’s a targ and ulf maybe just being himself disrespects her and jace is fed up
Small blurb because why dragging something just to make it longer?
my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time
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Ulf returned from the training yard after spending hours learning commands. High Valyrian did not flow easily on his commoner tongue, and he was looking for wine to drown his frustration into. 
His eyes looked around for a servant, and spotted you walking by. 
 ''Oy, fetch me more wine, girl,’’ Ulf commanded. 
Thinking his words were not addressed to you, you continued your path heading down the corridor to your chamber to report to Rhaenyra on your meeting with your father at Harrenhal. She had sent Ser Alfred a fortnight ago, but the man was slow on his horse so she sent you. The Greens were making moves and she needed to know what Daemon was up to quickly.
''I spoke to you!'' Ulf added, coming up to you and grabbing your arm without using force, simply meaning to stop you.
You turned, appalled that this man had grabbed you — a princess of the realm. 
‘’Get your hand off me!’’ 
Your hand reached toward the dagger on your hip, instinctively prepared to defend yourself. You assumed he was some sort of intruder  — mayhaps someone hired by the Greens —, but the way he continued asking about wine let you suspect that he was mistaking you for a servant. Did he not know who you were? Were your silver hair not telling enough of your title? 
Before you could scream or call for guards, Jacaerys was coming in through the corridor and walked in on the exchange. His whole body tensed and his dark eyes saw red when he saw Ulf with his betrothed.
‘’You dare lay a hand on your future Queen?’’ the prince said firmly, meeting the bastard's defiant glare as he quickened his pace to get to you. 
Realizing his mistake, Ulf immediately let you go, but Jacaerys was not finished, anger rising in his chest. He was so tired of the older man constantly showing disrespect in the ancestral home of House Targaryen. Calling him ‘boy’ and touching his hair saying they were ‘as dark as they say’, putting his feet on the painted table, his lack of table manners at supper. He may never have been taught the manners of court, but claiming a dragon didn’t give him permission to forget civility and manners. 
Jacaerys pushed Ulf away with a force that made the older bastard stumble on his feet. You did not know your betrothed had that strength in him. It made you feel something insde. 
‘’I’ll have an apology from you to the princess immediately," the prince demanded, his voice firm and authoritative. 
Ulf gulped and apologized, the boy before him small but somehow threatening. 
‘’Disrespect her or touch my betrothed again,’’ Jacaerys added, his eyes burning with anger, ‘’and I swear I'll have you hanged and your body fed to the dogs in the streets.’’
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simpforrooster · 10 months
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actually, it’s captain.
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Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x f!reader
summary: request for @kpopgirlbtssvt. rooster’s girl is hit on by Top Gun students.
t/w: touch her, you d i e trope. cursing. mentions of alcohol.
Rooster leans against the bar, laughing at something Penny tells him. His jeans hang low on his hips, and he’s wearing the Hawaiian shirt you bought him for his birthday.
Rooster’s hand slaps the bar as he continues to howl. Penny and Mav exchange a look. Maverick murmurs something to Penny. Your guess would be “it wasn’t that funny.”
You throw back the rest of your drink. As your glass returns to the table, a group of men circle you, all clad in khaki. Must be new Top Gun recruits.
“What’s a pretty little gal like you sittin’ here alone for?” one of them asks you, his accent very similar to Hangman’s.
“Mind if we join ya?” the second asks. Before you can reply, two of the slide in across from you, while the one who spoke first sits next to you. His burly arm comes up around your shoulder. You stiffen under him, feeling small.
And not in the way you feel with Rooster. He makes you feel small, protected, but also empowered. This guy has a hold on you like he’s claiming you. Telling every other guy in the bar he plans on taking you home.
“This here’s Crane and Sorry,” he points to the two in front of you. “And you can call me Pleasure. As in, it’s a pleasure to meet you. As in, the way all ladies feel after a night with me.” He winks. He actually winks.
Your brain is so shocked, you can’t form words. You should take this guy’s arm and bend it behind your back, the way your dad taught you. You should give him on of your grade-a verbal lashings.
But you don’t. The sheer audacity of this man has you frozen.
You try to make eye contact with Rooster, but Pleasure’s frame blocks your view.
“Get your hands off my girlfriend, asshole.” Rooster’s voice makes a relieved breath come from your mouth. His tone of voice would make anyone run for the hills, but it leaves you full of wanting.
Pleasure chuckles, meeting Rooster’s gaze. “Actually, it’s Lieutenant.”
Crane and Sorry exchange an amused look. Rooster’s face is set in a hard line. He reaches for Pleasure’s bicep, ripping him from the booth.
“I said to get your hands off my girlfriend, asshole.” Rooster is a whole head taller than the aviator that just had himself draped on you.
“Shouldn’t leave your girl all alone, dick.” Pleasure tells him, bowing up. Rooster’s mouth pulls up on the left, giving him one of his infamous cocky smirks. Second only to Hangman’s.
“Actually, it’s Captain. And I hope to God you’re in one of my classes. Lieutenant.”
At this, you see Pleasure audibly gulp, knowing he’s fucked up. Rooster still has a death grip on his arm.
“Come on, man. Make my day,” the words come out laced with venom.
Before things can get out of hand, you hop out of the booth and high tail it to Penny. Quickly giving her a synopsis, she rings the bell, signaling these guys need to be thrown out. Hangman, Omaha, and Coyote each grab one of the guys and drag them to the exit.
Rooster joins you at the bar, taking your face in his hands. Those brown eyes roam over you, searching.
Your hands come up to cradle his face, “Roos, I’m fine.”
“When I saw him draped over you, I saw red. Nobody touches my girl.” He leans down to place a kiss against your temple. Rooster’s words have your toes curling in your shoes. You’ve never seen this side of him.
You lower your hands to his shoulders, threading one of them in his curly hair that’s definitely longer than Military regulation.
“You’re the only one I want touching me,” you murmur in his ear, your face flushing.
“Yeah?” he murmurs back.
Not trusting your voice to not come out completely needy, you nod.
“Come on, guys. Quit being disgusting,” Maverick says to the two of you, feigning gagging.
Penny pops his hand over the bar, eliciting a laugh from him.
Rooster ignores him, placing a deep kiss onto your mouth.
“Take me home, baby,” you say, taking in those brown eyes.
“I don’t know, pretty girl, I don’t think I can get further than the Bronco,” he winks.
masterlist.
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l13 · 5 months
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cw: nsfw! 18+ mdni, f!reader
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BEST FRIEND'S DAD!CLARK KENT who has to subtly give you a once over when Jon introduces you as his best friend from uni. Has to try not to smile as you stare at him dreamily. Who feels strangely satisfied when you manage to say “Pleasure to meet you, sir.” Bf's dad, Clark, who tilts his head to the side just the slightest bit, and offers you his hand as if you weren't eye fucking him just now, “Pleasure's all mine, sweetheart.”
Bf’s dad, Clark, who always greets you with a big smile when you come over.
Bf’s dad Clark, who holds the car door open for you when he drops you off at your house late at night.
Bf’s dad, Clark, who’s so easy to talk to. Who listens carefully whenever you speak, always holding eye-contact. Who despite his size, is an absolute sweetheart. All wide eyes and dimples.
Bf’s dad, Clark, who the waiter mistakes for your boyfriend when taking your order, Jon conveniently timed to have been in the bathroom. Clark’s eyes widen comically, ears and cheekbones turning a lovely shade of red, as he waves his hands lowly, “Oh we’re not-” “So what’ll you have, honey?” your voice cuts him off, eyes still on the menu as you flip through it. When Clark doesn’t answer, you look up at him, raising your eyebrows and biting back a smile. 
You were enjoying this, he realized.
Bf’s dad, Clark, who can’t look at you in the eyes ever since. Who fidgets when you enter the room, making up any excuse to leave just to avoid thinking about you in that way. Because he does think about you. A lot. How couldn’t he? With your glitter covered eyes, lip gloss stained lips, and short skirts? He was a goner. He’d rather kick a wall than have to watch you reapply your lip gloss for the nth time. 
Bf’s dad Clark who has to pause his reading, glasses hanging from the bridge of his nose when you come over all giddy after a nail appointment, nails painted milky white, bows and other trinkets decorating them. Who has to hum and nod when you show them to him, acting as if he isn’t imagining your pretty hands around his cock. “Mm. Very pretty,” 
Bf’s dad, Clark, who has to watch you put cream on your legs while you’re all watching a movie. As if it's very common to do so in front of your best friend's dad. He thinks it shouldn’t be as erotic as it looked. Clark tries hard to keep his eyes glued on the tv and not stare at the way you sensually rub your hands up and down your thighs and calves.
Bf’s dad Clark who stiffens up, when Jon claims that “your legs are so sticky after though,” because how would his son know that?
Bf's dad Clark, who tosses and turns all night, trying to think back to all your past encounters, trying to pierce together how he missed the fact that you and Jon were dating. Because if you were, he was downright fucked.
Bf's dad Clark, who slowly starts getting mad at his son for not making it more obvious. For not kissing you whenever he saw you, not offering to drive you home, not treating you right. Clark who groans lowly and runs a hand down his face when he realizes that he's jealous of his own son.
Bf’s dad Clark who corners Jon the next morning, asking him all sorts of questions. “We’re obviously dating dad, I thought you knew..?”
Bf's dad, Clark who turns rigid, raising his voice at Jon for the first time in his life, still trying to be quiet for your sake, as you’re still sleeping upstairs. Whose fury isn't pointed to the fact that you and his son were dating, but more so to the fact that Jon didn’t pamper you enough. Didn’t give you any extra attention, didn’t spoil you like you deserved. And poor Jon has to hear his dad tell him to “Be a good boyfriend, I taught you better than that.”
Bf’s dad Clark, who gives his son a pointed look  when you finally come down to eat, yawning as you grab some cereal. Who has to watch his son turn and give you a quick peck on the lips, and then continue eating as if nothing happened. Has to watch you blink twice in surprise before shrugging and going back to your own food. 
Bf’s dad Clark who regrets telling his son to be more physical with you because he almost breaks a glass in his hands when he sees his son hugging you from behind one evening.
Bf's dad Clark, who clenches his jaw when you announce that you're going to leave and Jon jumps up to escort you, and walk you home. Clark who so badly wants to insist that he can take you home. That it's too cold out to walk, that a drive would be better. Clark who keeps his mouth shut instead.
Bf’s dad Clark who wants to curse Jon for inviting you over to their summer house. Clark who has to watch you walk around with your tiny bikini, skin still glistening when you get out of the pool. Clark who clenches his jaw tight and looks the other way when you offer to help Jon put some sunscreen on. 
Bf’s dad Clark who finds you in the kitchen that same night, swallowing hard as he watches you take a bite of a strawberry you were holding, claiming you were craving something sweet. 
Bf’s dad Clark who fucks you right against the counter you were leaning against, who has to hold his hand over your mouth as he circles his hips against you, his cock snug inside your tight cunt. Clark who melts when you give him an open-mouthed kiss, begging him to take you to bed. To his bed.
Bf’s dad Clark who can’t find himself worrying about the creaking of his bed when you’re riding him so well. Clark who hisses, and whose eyes roll back when you graze your nails against his pecs. Who has to fight the urge to bend you over and fuck you till you’re crying, has to remind himself that you’d definitely wouldn't be quiet then, when you’re barely keeping it together now. Clark who pulls you skin tight against him, who loves to feel your moans and whimpers against his lips.
Bf’s dad Clark, who wakes up the next day with you in his arms, swears he’d never slept so soundly in his life. Bf’s dad Clark who presses kisses all over your face, who later fucks you in the shower, and despite not wanting to ruin the moment, has to say something,
“Fuck, we can’t do this again. You’re dating my son, for God’s sake-”
“Clark. Jon is gay.”
oh.
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2024 © l13 | Do not steal, copy, edit, translate or re-post any of my works.
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gloomwitchwrites · 5 months
Text
Just Like Dad (4 of 4)
Content & Warnings: referenced military career, domestic fluff
Word Count: 957
A/N: Part of the Imagines & What If Series
Checking through his daughter’s backpack strikes up a difficult conversation.
ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // just like dad masterlist
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Price has no idea where his daughter’s disorganization from, but it certainly isn’t him.
Opening her backpack, Price cringes at the mess. It’s all crushed papers, broken pencils, scattered crayons, and food wrappers. Sighing, Price turns the backpack zipper-side down, the contents crashing to the dining room table.
She is going to sit down tonight and organize this. No exceptions.
Frowning down at the wreckage, Price begins sorting through the papers, glancing at a few just to find some order in the chaos. He picks up a piece of paper and pauses, his gaze landing on the title.
All About Me reads the top of the page.
Price smiles as he starts to read over his daughter’s answers.
Favorite color? Blue.
Favorite animal? Dragon—all capital letters with lots of exclamation points.
Happiest memory? That one just says “ghostie tree.” Her teacher will have no idea what that means, but Price knows, and he laughs so hard he almost chokes.
Price’s daughter adores Simon, and whenever he’s around, she turns into a koala, hanging off every limb. It doesn’t matter if Simon is standing or sitting down. And how does Simon feel about it? He’ll act bored, like it hardly bothers him, but then he’ll strike, tickling her until she runs away screaming only for her to return minutes later to do it all over again.
Flipping it over, Price continues to read, pausing when he reaches information about parents and guardians. This is where he slows and observers her writing. She already filled stuff out about mom, and Price knows you’d get a laugh out of her answers, but the sections about him cool his amusement.
Her answers are idyllic versions of himself, nearly whimsical in the way she describes what he does and how proud she is that he is her father. That makes him ache, brings a tightness to his chest that pushes out all other feeling. Price is proud of his work, and of his career, but it is not a beautiful thing.
It is not sweet or kind or tender.
It is rough. It is hard.
It is heartbreaking.
He has lost so many people. So many good men and women. He’s done horrible things. Stained his palms with blood. These are difficult truths he faces every day.
But there are softer moments in his career of watching those he’s mentored be promoted, of victories and celebrations, of marriages and births, and of all those he’s worked with who have gone on to lead fulfilling, happy lives.
All of that, and this isn’t what stops him.
It’s her answer to the question “what do you want to be when you grow up?”
I want to be like my dad.
Price sighs and sets the paper down on the table.
How does he respond to that? Should he even take the initiative? Should he approach the topic at all?
Price isn’t certain.
“Daddy.”
Price starts at his daughter’s voice. He turns. She’s standing just inside the archway to the living room. She has a perplexed look on her face as she glances between him and the mess on the kitchen.
“What’ve you done with my backpack?”
Price blinks, and then chuckles. “It’s a mess, love. We’ve taught you better.” Her face flushes slightly as she slowly walks up to the table. “You’re sitting down and going through this. No exceptions.”
She nods sheepishly.
Price picks up the questionnaire. “Want to talk about this? I have to sign off on it.”
Her flush grows deeper. “Did you read it?”
“I did.”
She looks up at him expectantly and Price waits a moment to see if she’ll say anything. She doesn’t.
“You said some nice things about me,” he says softly, and she beams. It reminds him of your smile, and that melts his heart down to his toes.
“It’s true,” she says brightly, happy that he’s mentioned anything at all.
“You want to be like me?” She nods. “And what do I do?”
She blinks. “Didn’t you read what I wrote?”
Price barks a laugh. “Yes, love. I did. But I want to hear it from you.”
She squares her shoulders and looks up at him with fierce determination. “You protect people. I want to protect people.”
True. But not entirely.
“How do you think I protect people?” He can see her brain processing the question and attempting to formulate an answer. She chews on her bottom lip, shoulders sagging slightly.
“I don’t know,” she finally says. “But I know that you do. You protect me and mom.”
“That’s because you and your mother are mine to protect.”
Protect is not the right word. While his actions and the things that he does might prevent horrible things happening at a global level, doing so often results in pain and suffering. It’s just what happens even when he tries to prevent that.
“Can I not do that?” she asks.
“You can do whatever you want when you’re older.”
But military life? No. He doesn’t wish that for her, and it’s not because she’s a girl. He’d feel the same if she has been born a son. No parent wants to see their child in potential danger. Doesn’t matter what age.
“So I can be just like you?”
He wants to say “no,” but instead diverts the question elsewhere. “You can’t be anything if you don’t organize this backpack.”
She groans and starts rummaging around in the mess.
Price kisses the top of her head. When he glances up, you’re standing in the archway, a soft smile on your face. Did you hear the whole conversation? Or just the end?
You stride forward and reach out. Price meets your outstretched hand, threading his fingers with yours.
taglist:
@glassgulls @km-ffluv @glitterypirateduck @tiredmetalenthusiast @spicyspicyliving @childofyuggoth @miaraei @coffeecaketornado @aykxz98 @kayden666 @unhinged-reader-36 @miss-mistinguett @keiva1000 @cherryofdeath @pertinentpostmortem @enfppuff @kittytiddywinks @berarenado @saoirse06 @ninman82 @no-oneelsebutnsu @marispunk @thewulf @hayleybarnesx @lxblm @ferns-fics @ooldcardigan @beebeechaos @enarien @sw33tsnow @kessi-21 @makayla-666 @lifes-project @burn1ngw00d @heeheehoohoohahahihi @lulurubberduckie @ravenpoe67 @jade1605 @contractedcriteria @lovely-ateez @gingergirl06 @kidd3ath @leed-bbg @nelladowney @blackhawkfanatic @suhmie @tulipsun-flower @ghosts-hoe @jaggersinclair
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slvttyplum · 8 months
Text
there were rumors that satoru was quote unquote a “player” in college, which have all been debunked, but there was something perculiar.
the shy girl on campus, "you,” getting bent over every weekend by the smart, popular guy on campus.
rumors started flying and swirling around bees on flowers, people in your classes whispering and gossiping like it was middle school.
the rumors should’ve made you feel disgusted and icky, especially since everyone knew what the both of you did, but it didn’t.
it made you feel good knowing you were the only one to lock down satoru gojo and have him whimpering at your feet.
to everyone else, he was some popular kid who wouldn’t even bat an eyelash your way, but at night he was in your apartment begging you to fuck him.
i guess the real question would be, how did everyone find out? your suspicions even landed on satoru, but he wasn’t stupid enough to out himself.
your closest friend didn’t even know the two of you were together.
every time you would hear people murmur about your relationship with satoru, it would make you laugh, thinking back on the previous nights.
“fuck… you’re so tight around me.” satoru whines in your ear, and after a few seconds of no response, he leans up, looking down at you, pouting.
“look at meee, you feel too good.” his words make your cheeks warm as you open your eyes and see his beautiful face hanging above you.
of course, with rumors, there came jealous women who would purposely say sly shit to get under your skin because they couldn’t have him.
“what’s so good about her?”
“does she think she’s hot shit because she’s dating him?”
when in fact you were hot shit for dating him when they couldn’t even touch a flyaway strand on his hair.
walking around, swaying your hips and flipping your hair, to wait by his class while others rolled their eyes and snickered.
satoru didn’t fuck anyone else but you. he improved his skills by you, passed his classes because of you, and learned bodily autonomy…
all because of you, that was no secret and never will be.
if he were to fuck anyone else and give them a heavenly orgasm, he wouldn’t be able to think about anyone else but you because you taught him that.
all of his good character traits were because of you, and everyone was mad because of that.
how does this quiet scholar have a guy like satoru gojo on a leash? and why did he get sexier once it came out that he was fucking you?
although everyone else was jealous and foamed at the mouth every time they saw the both of you graze thumbs, they wanted to be you.
and that was the best part.
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luveline · 1 month
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I love anything strangers to lovers with James, something with him maybe coming to a muggle pub with the guys and coming over to talk to you, trying to be all suave but entirely relying on everything muggle studies has taught him and like mixing weird things up but he’s still so endearing you kinda don’t care
ty for requesting❤️
James is holding Remus’ hand when he sees you. They’re being touchy and weird because there’s nobody around to see it but strangers, aware that it’s a little too touchy but uncaring. The drinks they’ve had makes it less overly friendly and more this man is my best friend in the whole world. 
He sees you and abruptly drops Remus’ hand. 
“James,” Remus says, pulling his hand back. 
“Sorry, but– but look!” He gestures to you, leaning down as though this might stop you seeing him before he’s ready. 
You’re really something. In a group of friends two tables and what looks like fifteen chairs, too many bodies, you’re hanging back with your glass held to your chest, giggling at someone’s loud joke. You’re so pretty James feels it in his chest, like woah! Like, he has to talk to you. Maybe it’s the way you’re smiling as you laugh, he loves it. 
The longer he looks, the more convinced he becomes. 
“What are we looking at?” Sirius asks, back at the table with a new drink. 
Remus quickly takes it. “It’s who are we looking at,” he corrects. “There’s a girl over there James likes the look of.” 
“She’s gorgeous. I’m going.” 
Neither friend tries to stop him. James isn’t drunk nor stupid, and he’s not a bad flirt. Not that every girl he tries to talk to wants to talk back, but he isn’t disrespectful or grim. 
He tries not to overthink it. 
“Hi, ladies,” he says, directing his hello to your little gaggle off the main group. You sit between two other women, all smiling politely as he speaks up. “What are you guys doing out tonight?” 
“It’s my birthday,” you say. 
“It is?” he asks, surprised. “Happy birthday! You aren’t wearing a badge?” 
“It’ll poke holes in my shirt.” 
He nods solemnly. “Well, never mind it. Are you having a good night?” 
“I would be, if the person feeding the jukebox would stop playing Bee Gee’s,” you say. 
Feeding the jukebox, James repeats in his head. He looks around for some sort of animal but doesn’t find one, nor does he spot any games of Bee Gee’s. “People are terrible pet owners these days,” he says. 
You laugh like a riot, so he must’ve said something right. “Only an animal would play disco!” you agree, standing up suddenly. “I need another drink. Are you coming with me, or did you fancy someone else?” 
James grins. “I’m coming with you, please.” 
He sees the little twitch on your smile that shows you’re pleased; you aren’t as confident as you’re trying to appear, and your question had been a brave one. James will try to reward your courage. 
“Do you come here often?” he asks, following you through tight tables and down a step to the bar. 
“Only on birthdays.” You grin as he shields you from a passerby. “What about you?” 
“Here? Never in my life! It’s quaint though, I love the taps and the posters and the pork scratchings!”
“They don’t have pork scratchings at home? Where are you from?” 
He shrugs. “Somewhere awful. They don’t have birthday girls half as pretty as you are back there. Did you get anything nice for your struggle?” 
“What, the struggle of getting older?” You lift your chin. “Do I look like I’ve struggled? In ageing?” 
“You look like you’ve been deprived of a drink. What’s your favourite?” 
“Can you guess?” 
James slows with you, just shy of the bar. What a peculiar thing to ask. Maybe muggles play this game, maybe this is a flirting ritual. James chooses the prettiest drink for a nice looking girl. “A French seventy five,” he suggests. 
“What’s that?” 
“Gin and champagne, mostly.” 
“I don’t know about that one.” 
James grins. “A cherry spritzer, then. Ice, a little sugar, cherries on the rim. You look like you like cherries.” 
James buys you a cherry spritzer with extra cherries —it’s your birthday. You say thank you twice and sip it at the bar as he nurses a cold dark thatchers, your elbows touching. James briefly notes how you compliment one another in the mirror above the wines. He tries to catch your eye in it, but gets distracted when the TV box above it changes colour. 
“Do you watch the football?” you ask, noticing his gaze. 
“Oh, yeah. Love football. Weird shape for a ball, but. Do you like it?” 
You take a second to answer, “Well, what about rugby?” 
He’s more familiar with rugby, they talked a great deal about it in muggle studies. “I love rugby! All the scrums and scrimmages.”
“Do you play?” 
“Um, no.” 
“Well, you must play something.” 
“Are you flirting with me?” he jokes. 
“You look active!” 
“What do you like?” he asks, happy to change the subject and learn more about you at the same time. 
“I like lots of stuff, mostly books. Oh, I like karaoke,” you say. “I’m not very good.” 
James knows what karaoke is. “I bet you are. It’s about patience, right? Filling in all those little boxes. I can’t get behind the numbers part, I’m terrible at arithmetic.” 
You look at him like he’s grown two heads. You don’t mean to, he can tell, because your expression immediately clouds with guilt, and then something kinder. He likes fondness on you, and he loves for it to be directed at him. 
“I’m terrible at maths, too,” you say, smiling, nearly shy. “Do you want to get a table with me?”
“Did I say something wrong, before?” 
“No, I don’t think so.” 
It’s much later with his hand behind your neck when he realises the numbers game is sudoku, not karaoke. He laughs against your open mouth. You ask him what’s so funny, but the warmth of your breath on his lips has him forgetting.
(James was a tad weird, you think that night, his phone number on the back of one of your birthday cards and your lips still fizzing, but he’d been earnest even in kissing, and for that you can’t complain.)
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callmerainman · 8 months
Text
Alastor in a relationship with a pure hearted s/o
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a/n. the relationship can be interpreted as queerplatonic or even romantic if you wish, but not sexual in any nature. hope Alastor is not ooc!
tw! canon typical violence
"cuddled up with a heart condemned, I should love you and I swear I do"
it's true that Alastor is touch averse, but this doesn't apply if it's you we're talking about.
also, we saw that Alastor dislikes physical touch only when it's someone else getting handsy with him. he can be pretty touchy if he wants to and likes to be close to you.
sneaking an arm around your waist, putting his hands on your shoulders, pecking your forehead. also, arms intertwined while walking around the city.
hand holding is more occasional, but not excluded at all.
he likes the sound of your laugh, and has a soft spot for your smile. he thinks that it suits you so well like a perfect-chosen accessory.
veeery protective. he knows you can be naïve and that Hell loves to take advantage of more innocent inhabitants.
he prefers to go with you when you have to leave the Hotel and strikes deathly smiles to anyone who dares to look at you with any kind of intention.
you're the only person who can see him drop his smile sometimes. he doesn't have to use it as a tool when you're around so there's no reason for him to always keep it. he doesn't feel vulnerable around your presence.
sometimes he comes back to the Hotel covered in blood. you don't approve his ways, and he knows, but he's just like this.
you shrug your shoulders, sigh, and then take some towels to clean him up.
"you'll end up ruining your coat and your pretty face like this"
loooves to dance with you. swing dancing specifically. maybe to the rhythm of an upbeat jazz tune in your room.
you were completely wack at dancing the Charleston, but he taught you well since he's an absolute beast at it.
you occasionally slow dance, it's a really intimate moment for you and Alastor and makes you both feel closer to each other. your favourite spot to slow dance is the forest in his room, especially at night under a clear and starry sky.
you like to drink together, he's a classy type of drunk and you make the best conversations while sharing a glass together.
sometimes, he'll start ruminating about the possibility of you redeeming yourself and leaving the Hotel.
he doesn't like ruminating, it makes him feel weird because he doesn't believe in redemption in the first place. so case closed...right?
he says to himself that even if you were to be, he would find a way to let you stay.
but he immediately tells himself that he doesn't want to force you. but he also starts to get concerned because it's not like him to contain himself and his cold heart. more ruminating, more concerned Alastor.
he's aware that he cares about you, and that you're special to him and that he feels a deep rooted love. but he never thought it would affect his evilness and now he's confused.
you like to cook for him, since you're aware that he's a huge foodie. and he loves to do the same for you! he likes to share his mom's recipes.
loves to call you "my darling"
you like to hang out at his radio tower, just listening to him intently while he hosts a program.
sometimes even asks you to join in to talk about jazz!
very occasionally sleeping together, just holding your hands with fingers intertwined.
honestly Alastor doesn't even know what love is, but he just knows that he feels it for you.
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fastandcarlos · 3 months
Text
Mini Me : ̗̀➛ Sebastian Vettel
summary: one step at a time, seb plans on changing the world, and his little shadow is desperate to join him
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Your smile widened as a familiar voice called through the house, spinning round to watch Seb as he slipped off his jacket, hanging it up by the door.
“Hi darling,” he grinned, walking into the kitchen to where you were.
“Hi,” you whispered, wrapping your arms around Seb’s neck as his grabbed at your waist. “How was your day?”
“It was good, some interesting meetings,” Seb mused, “not as good as being here though.”
“We’ve had a pretty busy day, I think you’d be quite impressed to see.”
“Can I?” Seb excitedly asked, pressing a kiss against your cheek. “Where is Lila anyway?”
“Living room,” you grinned, glancing through the slight gap in the doors to where your daughter was sat on the floor. “She’s been watching documentaries most of the afternoon, seems like she’s going to be a bit of a wildlife warrior like her father when she’s older,” you added, watching as Seb’s smile lit up.
He’d always prided himself on instilling his morals and awareness for the world on his daughter. He taught her a lot about protecting the environment, even though she was only five, Seb still made sure she knew her little things could have a major impact.
“Lila!” You shouted across to her, “there’s someone here who wants to see you.”
Your daughter scrambled to her feet, knowing exactly who you were on about. She couldn’t get to the kitchen quick enough, leaping into the air as Seb caught her and twirled her around.
“Mummy said that you’ve been busy, what have you been up to?” He asked her.
“Let me show you,” your daughter squealed, kicking out for Sebastian to put her down on the ground, running back into the room.
Seb stood impatiently as your daughter ran back in, holding several pieces of paper in her hands, laying them down on the floor for Seb to see. Each one had a different picture on it, with big text that you had drawn for your daughter to colour in.
“Wow,” Seb chuckled as he looked through each one. The posters your daughter had made were covered with endangered animals, many of them ones that her father had told her all about as he taught her about the world.
“I’m going to take them into school next week,” Lila informed him.
“There’s a show and tell at school next week,” you added, filling Seb in, “Lila wants to help educate some of her classmates about the planet.”
Seb almost couldn’t believe what he was hearing, struggling to believe that his little girl would do such a thing. Little did Seb realise quite how much his daughter idolised him though, wanting to stand for everything her dad stood for too.
“These are amazing sweetheart,” Seb complimented, reaching across and pulling Lila across to him, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “I’m sure everyone in your class will be blown away by these.”
“Do you really like them?”
“I don’t just like them, I love them,” Seb insisted, bringing a smile to her face again.
“We spent a lot of time making them, didn’t we Lila?”
“Mummy did all the letters, she said if I wrote them no one would know what they say,” she chuckled, poking her tongue out across at you. You shrugged back at her as Seb gave you a knowing look, chuckling to himself at you.
You’d tried your best to be as helpful as possible, but just like her dad, Lila was stubborn when she had a vision in mind. You helped where you could, but when you weren’t needed, she definitely let you know about it.
“Maybe you’ll have to get daddy to tell you some more information, you can teach your class,” you offered, watching their smiles turn up again.
“Would you help me daddy?” Lila quizzed.
“Of course, it would be my honour,” Seb smiled.
“I want to teach everyone about the planet, like how you always teach me to pick up rubbish and re…re…re, what’s the word again daddy?”
Seb couldn’t help but laugh as Lila struggling, ruffling the top of her head. “You want to teach your friends about recycling?”
Everywhere the two of you went Seb made sure to teach your daughter the importance of recycling and keeping things clean. The two of them had been known to go down to your local park with bin bags, picking up anything that they found.
“I bet you’re an expert on it Lila,” Seb chimed.
“No, but I want daddy to help me with it.”
“I’ll help, don’t worry.”
Your daughter climbed into Seb’s lap where he sat on the floor, wrapping her arms around his frame, squeezing him tight as if to silently thank him for his help.
“What about mummy? Can she help us too?” Seb asked, catching a glance of you smiling, watching their interactions closely.
“Mummy doesn’t care about the planet as much as we do, she’s done enough already.”
“Hey!” You laughed, your eyes widening in disbelief, “I care about keeping everything healthy and safe thank you.”
“This is our project now,” she challenged, shaking her head at you. “Daddy and I are going to start planning whilst you cook tea.”
“The boss has spoken,” Seb helplessly grinned, knowing out of the three of you Lila was definitely the one in charge.
“I can’t believe I’m being kicked out the team when I was the one who came up with the idea,” you gasped, pretending to hold your hand over your heart, letting Lila know just how disappointed you were.
“Sorry,” Seb whispered across to you as your daughter ran away again.
“I guess I just can’t compete with you,” you teased, offering your hand to help Seb up off of the floor. “Come on old man, it looks like our bossy madam is already waiting for you in the living room to get started.”
“I suppose you deserve some peace and quiet after having her all day,” Seb reasoned, groaning as he stood up.
“Lila’s much harder work than I bet driving a race car ever was,” you sniggered, nudging him in the direction of the living room. “I’ll give you a shout when tea is ready, if you can leave your little project alone for a minute.”
For the rest of the evening Seb and Lila put together her own presentation to give at school next week. You’d worked together to exhaust her so come bed she was flat out, leaving the two of you stretched out on the sofa just a couple of hours later, hands intertwined in with one another lazily.
You were blissfully unaware of Seb’s eyes on you as you rested into his side, struggling to keep your eyes open after a day of running around after your daughter on your own. It was only when he chuckled that you finally looked up at him, smiling wide as you noticed the big grin that was on his own face.
“How did we raise such a caring, kind-hearted girl?” You smiled, reaching up to cup the side of Seb’s face with your hand.
“Because we’ve taught her all the good in the world, and she’s got the best mum in the world,” Seb joked, kissing against the top of your head.
“You’re the one that teaches her all of these amazing things,” you reminded him.
“We’re both pretty cool then.”
“She definitely takes after you,” you argued, nudging against Seb’s side. “She’s the definition of like father, like daughter.”
“I never imagined myself having my own mini me.”
“You’ve definitely got one now.”
˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗
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cheonstapes · 11 months
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miguel o'hara stars in... 'NERD!MIGUEL STARTS AN ONLYFANS! THE LIVESTREAM' 〜(><)〜
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a/n~ IT'S HEREEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! sorry for the delay, i was at a funeral :( nerd!miguel creds to @nymphomatique 💗💗💗💗
part 1
summary; your nerdy almost-boyfriend starts an onlyfans without you knowing. now, he's gonna be taught a little lesson.
wc; 3k+
pairings; nerd!miguel o'hara x rich!fem!reader
cw; SMUT!!! dark-ish content!, toys, restraints, blindfolds, pegging, cock rings, brat taming, edging, ball busting, mommy kink, overstimulation, m!rimming, m!anal fingering, hair pulling, humiliation kink, reader has a tongue piercing, sub!miguel, mean!dom!reader, a bit of aftercare?, fluff!, IT'S ACTUALLY PROOFREAD????
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————————————————————————
previously on nerd! miguel starts an only fans...
you couldn’t even speak, slowly turning around to face him, his head hanging down in shame.
oh, you were gonna make sure he learnt his lesson. his fans too.
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“where’s all that confidence gone, hm? you were so comfortable flaunting your body like a whore for all these bitches online, but now you wanna act all shy?” 
miguel has never felt more embarrassed and turned on than he does now. he felt like crying, his cock painfully hard beneath his shorts, wiping his sweaty hands on his thighs. “ ‘m sorry, mommy. i…i wanted- i just…” you laughed right in face. he stammered, trying to find an excuse but he couldn’t — your sweet, sweet boy was really just a desperate slut in disguise.
“just wanted some attention, isn’t it? am i not givin’ you enough?” you grip his hair tightly, tilting his head up towards you. he whimpered, both in pain and pleasure, his lips parted as he let out small pants. “i do so much for your pathetic ass and this is how you repay me? by showing off what’s mine, slutting yourself out for other bitches?” miguel didn’t like upsetting you, but he loved the outcome. you were always so much rougher with him, marking him up, overstimulating him until tears streamed down his flushed face. he couldn’t help but feel like acting little bratty today.
“what’s yours? we’re not even together, you don’t own me. you’re so big-headed, i’m surprised there’s no space in there to care about anyone other than yourself.” oh, so he wanted to get personal now? “hah? the fuck did you just say to me?” a manicured hand reached out to grab his hair, pulling it close to your face. “listen to me, you. are. mine. no one else, and i mean no one, will ever have you like i do - try and find someone who can please you better than me. ‘cause i’ll tell you now, you won’t.” 
he knew he fucked up big time. his eyes darting from your eyes to your lips, pulled back in a snarl. he didn’t know what to say to you, gis heart was pounding like crazy in his chest — cock hard and tears threatening to fall. he fell to knees, gripping your thighs, calfs, ankles, every he could get a hold of. the thick rimmed glasses slipped down his nose, his head down as he whimpered pitifully. “mommy, i’m sorry! i‘m yours - i-i love you, i need you. i didn’t mean any of that, promise!” 
your silence was deafening. arms crossed under your chest, pushing up your perfect tits as you bent down to look at him closely. “you begging, baby? you think that’s all it takes for me to forgive you?” he shook his head rapidly, lips trembling as he bit back his tears. “no! no, o-of course not. i’ll do anything, mommy, anything to make it up to you.”
anything…anything, he says. a million and one ideas ran through your head, the corners of your pretty lips raising to form a malicious smile. you raised your foot, trailing the tip of your heel down his chest. the contours of his toned body rubbed against your shoe, sending ripples of pleasure down your spine. “oh, you poor thing…look at you, you’re shaking!” the bulge in sweats throbbed as your foot grazed over it, a small whimper leaving his lips.
he was so cute, trying to grind his hips up onto your shoe. so you pressed down hard, grinding your prada heels on his balls. his hands reached for your ankle as he groaned loudly, it hurt like hell but felt so good. “m-mommy, fuck! more…please, i need more.” you’d let him have his fun for now. lifting your foot a little before pressing down again, his tip spurting out pre all in his boxers. 
his body felt limp, mind only filled with you, you, you. he knew he wasn’t being a good boy, he knew how mad you were - but he couldn’t help but enjoy this punishment. nothing was sexier than seeing you like this, so ready to put him in his place like the mistress you were. you laughed, smearing his cum along the fabric as he whimpered and writhed — drool slipping out of the corner of his open mouth.
his hips continued to chase the friction of your shoe, the grip he had on your legs tightening just a fraction more — he was enjoying this a bit too much now. lifting your foot up once again, you push on his chest hard enough to knock his bulky frame over, leaving him breathless under you. “who said you can get off on this? ‘m not doing this for your pleasure, it’s for mine. it’s always for mine.” you placed the heel on his chest, looming over him with a dark glint in your eyes. 
a small flash caught the corner or your eye, his phone buzzing away on your vanity. the idea that ran through your head was downright cruel — giving him a chance to regain his breath as you stepped over to grab his phone. opening it, you went back onto only fans. scrolling through all the recent notifications made your blood boil even further — he really didn’t understand how serious you were when you said he’s belongs to you and you alone.
“get on the bed.” 
——————————————————————————————————
you did the finishing touches, his phone propped up on your desk. the sheets were ruffled, his body twisting and turning as he tugged on his restraints. his eyes were covered with a thick blindfold, arms and legs tied with your expensive scarfs.  
the beep of the phone signalled it had started, your body stepping into frame. you bent over, tits almost spilling out of your slip dress as you adjusted your mask, waving at the camera. “hi, everyone~” miguel let out a confused grunt, trying to lift his body to no avail. “miggy has been a bad, bad boy. lying to all you sweet people.” you were smiling under the mask, not that they could see it properly — thankfully. 
“you see guys,” you walk over to where he was situated, teasingly running a hand over over his heated face. “i bet you all probably thought my baby here was your absolute fantasy, hm? a big, strong, dom who could put you in your place.” you trail a nail down his throat, fingers running over his hardend nipples. “well, you’re all wrong.”
you tug on them hard, his hips bucking up as a whiny rumble leaves his lips. “he’s nothing but a submissive little bitch. and he’s all mine.” the chat was going insane, people commenting their disbelief, some questioning who you were, some even thinking you kidnapped him, and the vast majority talking about how hot this was. “you guys surprised? good, nice the truth’s finally out ain’t it. so enjoy this while you can, cause this is gonna be last thing you see on this fuckin’ account.”
miguel’s mouth was bound, the fabric slick with his saliva. his cock was pushing out of the fabric, the teasingly pink tip spewing out constant streams of pre. his heart couldn’t beat any faster than it was now, his thighs rubbing together to alleviate the aching throb of his hardness. trying to speak was useless, all he could hear was the clanking of box, things dipping the bed by his feet.
“let’s start with this shall we?” you giggled, grabbing a black vibrator from the box. the buzzing sound was obnoxiously loud, a tell tale sign you had immediately put it on the highest setting. you ran in down his chest, running it over his nipples, trailing it down his abs, and finally reaching his erection. his muffled whines didn’t deter you. in fact, it made you want to go even harder. “be a good boy and behave for mommy, you know your punishment — so shut up and take it.”
the way you sounded so aggressive turned him on to another level. you’re so hot, so sexy when you’re mad — his head nodding mindlessly. “that’s a good bitch.” the head of the vibrator met his, the sensation sending shockwaves through his body. his eyes welled with tears beneath the mask, sweat dripping down his face as he panted heavily. “mmphf — muh —“ you moved the toy down, rubbing it along the fabric of his boxers. “what’s that? can’t understand you, i don’t speak whore.”
you dropped the vibrator between his thighs, the rounded head landing perfectly on his heavy balls. the moan he let out was borderline pornographic, head slamming back again the soft pillows. you pulled the tight boxers down, shifting the vibrator away to bring it down his thighs. “look at that cock, so fuckin’ pathetic.” you were sorta lying to yourself. the thickness was mouthwatering, his tip resting completely under his belly button. 
you pulled his boxers completely off, throwing them to the side as you squeezed his tip with your manicured fingers, oozes of cum trickling out. you placed the vibrator back against his balls, revelling in the obvious shudder of his body. “see that guys? isn’t this so sad? seeing those fat balls all achy and swollen.” you put your lips against his ear, sucking the skin under it. “let’s empty those balls for you, ok?”
his breath hitched, body stilling as he feels you grip his cock tightly. you moved between his thighs, grabbing the lube from beside you. the cold liquid started to make his skin tingle, the slick sounds of your hand rubbing in the lube causing him huff out of his nose. keeping him occupied by jerking his cock slowly, you slid over the cock ring by your feet. your fingers were a bit slippery as you fiddled with the silicone. it finally found its way onto his length, depraving him of the release he craves oh so badly.
he was being so noisy, loud and slightly more clear things coming out of his delirious mouth. you ripped off his mouth gag, the fabric hanging off his neck like a tie. “m-mommy — please, fuck, it’s too m — ugh — much!” that obviously wasn’t gonna stop you. your hand reaching back into the box to pull out another gadget. 
the cock ring conveniently had a vibrating mode, the rapid shaking of the silicone causing his legs to shake from the restriction of his release. miguel’s plump lips stayed parted, quick puffs of air leaving his mouth. “fhucccckkk — mommy, need…need to cum.” you just smiled, sliding off the bed as you slipped off your dress, throwing it by his boxers.
you bent over, not so subtly exposing your little surprise to the camera — pulling off the blindfold from his face. he blinks, vision blurry as he looks up at you. “here, baby.”you place his glasses on his face, standing up in front of him. miguel’s eyes widen like saucers, trailing down your naked body. his eyes catch onto the 7” cock strapped to your lower half, string of the vibrator you had nestled in your tight cunt hanging below it.
“i..oh my god.” he couldn’t tear his eyes away, he felt a weird tingling sensation in his chest — stomach tightening in anticipation. “that’s, uh, g-going in me?” you nod, drizzling the lube on the length of the silicone. “isn’t this one of your little fantasies, babe?” giggling, you turned to the camera, bending level with it. “another surprise, huh? that this hunk of a man wants to get his ass played with.” 
he unconsciously spread his legs as much as he could, considering that he was still bound to the bed. you tut, walking over to untie him — rubbing his wrists gently as you gesture for bim to lay on his stomach. he turns around, cock pressed against the sheets and his back to you. “look at you, baby.” you run your hand over his ass, a palm colliding with the flesh before you spread them open — dropping a glob of spit on his hole. “such a dirty, boy. you just want me to fuck you, right? stretch out that tight hole with my fat cock?” 
his body shudders, hands gripping the pillow as he buries his face in it. “god, please — i need you, mommy. i-i want you so bad.” needy slut. you shuffled back, laying against the bed as you lowered your face towards his spread cheeks. your tongue collects the remnants of your saliva, spreading it back over his taint. gripping his hips, you push your tongue in deeper — the cold ball of your tongue piercing grazing his sensitive walls. you make an effort to stretch him out considerably, inserting two of your fingertips into his ass. 
you scissor them, dropping more spit to help your finger slide in deeper. his back arches deliciously, hips moving in tandem with your movements. his little, whiny gasps were muffled by the pillow, his teeth marks imprinting onto them. you knew he wasn’t gonna cum, as long as that cock ring stayed on. you knew he was ready when your fingers were sliding in and out easily. “all nice and prepped for this cock, baby.” 
you lifted your hips, aligned the bulbous tip of your cock to his hole, sliding it in till his ass meets your pelvis. the vibrator inside of you turned on, the faint buzzing rubbing against your gummy walls. it was hard to fuck a man when you felt like you were about to squirt all over the bed, your thighs shaking as you pushed in and out of him. “shit…so this is how it feels, huh?” miguel looked dazed, his glasses falling off, drool coating his cheeks. he was so fucked out.
you grabbed his jaw, turning him to face the camera — your hips slammed harder against him, other hand resting on his hip. “tell them…them how much you love it when mommy fucks you.” it was hard for you to stay composed too — your stiff clit twitching with every squelching thrust. he nods dumbly, mumbling into the pillow “l-love it, i love mommy’s — nngghh — c-cock.”
“thaaat’s right, good boy. that’s what you’re good for, being a hole for mommy to use.” he whined deeply, grinding his ass with your rhythm. you can feel something building in your lower tummy, the vibrations speeding up the faster you move. with a silent whimper, you push him off of you — laying on your back, panting softly. a thin layer of swear lines your brow, rolling down your temple as you look at him.
“this cock ain’t gonna ride itself.”
the way his face lit up was quite endearing, his large frame scrambling to straddle you. he was a bit nervous cause of how much bigger he was, scared he would crush you under his weight. “a-are you sure? i don’t wanna hurt you-“ the hard slap you landed on his ass was enough for him to get a move on — hands resting on your soft tits as he aligns himself with your cock. “ah — fuck, it’s so big…” 
“now you know how i feel.” you teased, pinching his hip. “now ride.” his face heated up, nodding as his body bounced on top of you. it seemed like he learnt from you, hands resting on your knees as he ground, rolled, and bounced his hips. the ring seemed to be working wonders with his cock, the steady vibration causing his tip to drool creamy liquid that dripped onto your stomach. “mommyy, fuck me h-harder! wanna cum for you — ‘m sorry i was a bad boy, please let me c-cum!”
you caressed his sides, nimble fingers flicking his nipples teasingly before gripping tightly on his hip. you drove your hips up into his, each thrust barely lifting him due to his size so he decided to move up with you — strong thighs able to endure the strain. “so dirty…riding my cock whilst all your little fans watch. you like it don’t you? you like everyone seeing what a depraved freak you are.” you grunted, gritting your teeth as your head hit the headboard.
unbeknownst to you, the live was blowing up — over 100k people watching at once. it was something no one had expected but everyone wanted. seeing a greek god of a man being ravaged by a girl much smaller than him — it was the sexiest thing to ever grace that god forsaken website. the donations were flooding in, the live was accumulating 10’s of thousands — the most money miguel had ever made on the site.
the tension coiled tightly within you both, miguel being on the verge of tears with how deep you were hitting, scraping against his prostate. his cock was red a twitching, the cock ring starting to slide off from how slick his length was. you didn’t wanna cum, not before he did. the wetness dripping down your thighs was getting harder to ignore, the force of your orgasm feeling like it’d be enough to push the vibrator right out of you.
miguel was whining so loudly, drowning out the sound of your hips meeting. his lips were pulled back in a small snarl, large hand jerking his cock whilst the other groped one of your tits — his flushed face looming over you. “gonna cum,
mommy. g-gonna cum so fuckin’ hard — need it so bad, baby.” you let out a low growl, swatting his hand away from his cock as you held it tightly in your grip, working as a makeshift cock ring. “you’re not cumming till i do, so be a good boy and wait.”
he whined like a little baby, earning him another hard slap on his ass. the vibrator inside of you was on it’s highest setting, small streams of squirt trickling out of your sore pussy. the friction of your clit rubbing against his balls, the debauched sight of him, the pressure in your core — it was all too much. your hand loosened its grip around his length slightly, rapidly stroking up and down the stiffness, his hips chasing your hands.
“cum then, go ahead and cum like the nasty ,little, bitch, you are.” he nodded, drool sliding down his neck as he squeezed  his eyes shut, letting out a stream of curses and broken cries of your name. his cum was so thick, shooting all over your bare chest and catching on your pretty face. your eyes closed in bliss as you licked his cum off of your lips, hips slapping against his rapidly before you freeze, your own orgasm squirting out onto his lower half, the cock you had simultaneously released white, creamy strings of cum deep into his ass.
all you could do was stare at each other, eyes roaming around the others face as a small smile grew on both of your lips. you shook your head, pushing his heavy body off you. your cock drips onto your rug as you walk to his phone to turn off the live, “bye-bye forever, hope you enjoyed!” you giggled, waving a drenched but perfectly manicured hand to the camera.
 you place his phone face down on your desk, climbing into the bed next to miguel — your heart swelling as he rests his head on your plush chest. he was snoring quietly, beefy arms wrapping around your torso tightening when you pressed a kiss to his forehead. miguel had definitely learnt his lesson, making a mental note to delete his account as soon was he wakes up.
maybe it wasn’t that bad — being in love.
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-happy late halloween!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 🎃
taglist; (some links aren't working :( sorry!!! )
@honeyfrenchietoast, @zzxzzxzzzsworld, @vesperurdad, @grapejuicenads, @boldlyimportantface, @clementine-thedestroyer, @choasinterludee, @hayden-the-goat, @obi-mom-kenobi, @miguelzslvtz, @111gltzpzy, @mreowmoreww, @deckfunkk, @imfinenotsblog, @skylarlyn823, @miyaluvvsyou, @eliozs, @darksidescorner, @ravenlini, @dearlyjinie, @astarstruxkgirl, @ximena-nothere
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dark-konohagakure2 · 2 months
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can i request a brother!sasuke + his friend naruto x (younger) sis!reader where sasuke decides to invite naruto over for a threesome? ( preferably, the reader + sasuke have a pre-established relationship)
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tw: incest, sibling incest, dubcon, sex toys, bondage threesome, implied abuse, implied grooming, pre-established Sasuke x reader, praise, spitroasting
All characters depicted are 18+
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Naruto has been getting very suspicious of Sasuke as of late. Naruto keeps asking to come over to Sasuke's house to hang out, but the Uchiha has been refusing to let him come over as of late, saying that he's busy 'training his little sister'. Naruto is pretty annoyed that his best friend is ignoring him seemingly only to teach his sister some new jutsus, so he asks if he can help with the training, and much to the blonde's shock; Sasuke agrees.
Naruto is really excited to hang out with his best friend, and he hasn't seen the youngest Uchiha sibling in a while, so he's excited to catch up with her! Sasuke also seems to be in a bit of a rush to get home. When they get to Sasuke's room, the brunette tells his friend that's he's going to show off the results of his sister's training, and Naruto is innocently excited! Until Sasuke opens his closet door...
Sasuke's younger sister is tied up and gagged, with sex toys turned on and stuffed into both of her holes, and she looks scared too, like a scene straight out of a smut novel. When Naruto gets incredibly flustered and asks Sasuke what the hell is going on, Sasuke simply shrugs and says that this is the 'training' that he was putting her through.
Naruto watches, mouth agape and pants tented as Sasuke handles his sister with uncharacteristic gentleness, sitting her down on his bed and untying her, removing the sex toys and a slow and torturous pace. Sasuke will speak to his sister in the softest tone Naruto has ever heard from the Uchiha's mouth, despite the words he's saying being less than soft and gentle.
"Cmon baby, it's time to show Onii-Chan's friend how well he's trained you... Can you do that? Hmm? That's my girl, now hurry it up, slut."
The younger woman looks nervous and hesitant, but Sasuke's encouragement wins out in the end and she obeys him. Naruto can barely look at her when she starts undoing his pants and stroking his cock with an almost practiced precision, like she'd been made to do it before. Naruto is shocked that the innocent girl who he almost views as a little sister figure is now taking his entire cock now like a trained slut, but despite his shock he isn't exactly complaining either.
The blonde's shock suddenly increases tenfold when Sasuke starts positioning himself behind his very own sister, and before Naruto can even ask what he's doing, Sasuke is already thrusting inside his sister, but the raven haired male assures Naruto that it's okay, and that she likes it, in fact; she's the one forcing Sasuke to do it with how adorably irresistible she's being on purpose.
Sasuke is nowhere near as gentle as Naruto, he'll praise her occasionally, but other then that he's just downright mean, thrusting into her roughly and smacking her around if he thinks she's being a bad girl. Naruto will call him out on this, but Sasuke shuts him up quickly by saying that this is just how big brother's play with their little sisters.
Naruto feels a little bit bad when he sees tears filling her eyes, although he can't tell if it's from pleasure or her current situation. Regardless, the Uzumaki comforts her, telling her that she did a good job and that her big bro taught her very well.
"A-Ah... There there, y-you're a good girl, just like Sasuke said, ya know? You're swallowing everything I shoot... I'm gonna go again, I'm sure that's okay with you..!"
The two friends are going to keep going at it with her regardless, and whenever she looks like she's about to say or do something out of line, Sasuke gives her a sharp look that shuts her up almost immediately, a look that tells her that she's gonna get punished again if she ruins the fun. Naruto is oblivious to these dynamics however, and just thinks to himself that he needs to go to Sasuke's house much more often now.
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a little something I started but probably won't ever finish - alternate first meeting steddie! post s3, pre s4
(context: in an effort to cheer up his perpetually grumpy new neighbor, Eddie broke out his old skateboard and immediately ate shit for it. Cue Red calling none other than Steve Harrington to solve the problem...)
Red was barely in the door when Harringron turned on him, jaw clenched and fingers twitching. Having those dark eyes focused so entirely on him nearly made Eddie dizzy.
His lips were moving and- oh shit. Eddie was totally supposed to be listening.
"Uh, what?"
"What are you doing hanging around Max?"
Eddie frowned. "We're neighbors?"
"So?"
"So I'm being… neighborly? Is that illegal?"
"Neighborly is getting someone's mail while they're out of town. Not a super senior hanging around with a girl who's not even in high school yet."
"You better be fucking careful what you're accusing me of, Harrington, because to be honest, you don't look any better. Don't think I haven't heard your beemer pull up at all hours of the night. What the fuck is that about, huh? King Steve likes 'em young?"
Eddie's back hit the trailer before the last word even left his mouth. All the breath rushed out of him at once as Harrington pinned him with one arm across his shoulders.
"Don’t fucking say that," he seethed. "She's like my sister. I'm not- I wouldn't hurt her."
Eddie reached up to pat Harrington's arm placatingly, sending him as sweet a smile as he could muster.
"Hey, I believe you, man. I'm a little lost, sure, but I believe you." He sent a look to the trailer to his right. "Now can you let me down before Muriel sends Axel out to break your arm?"
Harrington followed his gaze and, upon seeing Muriel frowning from behind her curtains, dropped Eddie faster than if he'd told him he had the plague.
"We're in my kingdom now, Harrington," he said, grinning and waving in Muriel's direction. "These are my people. We take care of each other here. And Red's one of us, whether you like it or not."
Steve frowned, opened his mouth to respond, maybe even protest, but Eddie cut him off.
"I was just trying to make the kid smile, okay? So I got out my old skateboard, did a few tricks, busted my shit." He held up the ice pack he'd stolen from Red's fridge. "She called you 'cause she said you'd know what to do."
Harrington was quiet. Noticeably, he did not apologize for jostling Eddie's extremely sore wrist, but whatever.
"Did she?"
"Yeah, man, I tried to talk her out of it, but she seemed pretty confident you'd pick up. And here you are, so…"
"No, I mean- did she have fun?"
Eddie shrugged. "I mean, she didn't look as miserable as usual. Laughed a couple times when I fucked up a dismount. What's up with that, by the way? The constant dispair?"
Harrington's whole body tensed, and Eddie was almost scared he was gearing up to punch him just for asking.
"You remember Billy Hargrove?" he replied, his voice tight.
Eddie couldn't help but sneer at the mention of that piece of shit. Wayne had always taught him not to speak ill of the dead, but that didn't mean he couldn't think some choice things about him. Like the fact that he was pretty sure the guy was rotting in hell for all the things he'd said to Jeff in the school halls.
"Unfortunately. What about him?"
"He was Max's older brother. Step-brother."
"That's..."
"Fucked?" Harrington supplied. Eddie nodded. "Yeah. So I just- I need to make sure another Hargrove doesn't come around. Sorry I got all... you know. I've been told I can be kind of intense."
"No shit," Eddie laughed. "No hard feelings, I guess. Since it's in Red's best interest."
"No hard feelings," Harrington echoed. "Thanks for looking out for her."
Then, something Eddie had never even dreamed of: Harrington stuck his hand out, clearly expecting a handshake.
Huh.
It was over in a second, but Eddie's hand burned where Steve's had been.
"No problem. I'm kind of the park babysitter," Eddie replied. "Part of the job description."
Harrington lit up at that.
"I babysit too! Max and a few of her friends. 'S why I'm always around. I'm usually playing chauffeur for one of the other gremlins."
"That makes more sense than you having a torrid love affair with Susan."
"Yeah, she's not really my type," Harrington said with a smirk.
Eddie watched in shock as Harrington's eyes slowly, deliberately dipped up and down his form.
Talk about fucking whiplash. Eddie could still feel Harrington's strong arm against his chest, the brush of Harrington's nose against his own, the heat of Harrington's breath on his face. And now the king was checking him out?
"I see. Not into MILFs?"
Eddie was in the middle of making plans to staple his big stupid mouth shut when Harrington laughed.
"I'm more into brunettes."
And boy, didn't that seem pointed.
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erwinsvow · 7 months
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They call you the clueless pogue. The pretty one. 
You don’t care much either way—that comes from years of being Kiara’s best friend, she’s taught you well on how to ignore what other people think and say about you. Maybe you would care more, you think one day, watching JJ and Pope drive each other crazy while trying to fix something that’s inexplicably gone wrong with the Twinkie. John B is swinging in the hammock, eyes closed, empty beer in his hand that is soon replaced with a fresh one by Kie. She drops the old can into a bin that has the recycling symbol drawn on with a sharpie, her own creation. She walks towards you with a can of fruity seltzer since it’s well known with your new friends that you refuse to drink beer—and it all feels very domestic.
You might care about what other people say if you didn’t love your friends so much.
You are a little clueless though—at least the boys think so. They wouldn’t dare to say anything when your protective best friend was around, but when it’s just you and one of them, or all of them, it comes out a little more. 
You wear the kind of clothes that they wouldn’t let a sister of theirs be caught dead in. They never used to care about stuff like that, not until you started hanging around more often. It was the result of absent parents that were only on the island a few months out of the year. The rest of the time you had free reign, and an unlimited credit card that often funded their adventures—gas for the Twinkie, beer for the night, a new outfit to wear to the party. 
JJ gets into a fist-fight with a guy who keeps offering you a drink from the keg, not listening no matter how many times you refuse and grabbing the short hem of your yellow dress to yank you back. JJ doesn’t mean to knock him out—it’s just like instinct, he explains later that night to John B and Pope while you’re sound asleep on the pull-out with Kiara—the way he feels protective over you.
“Are you okay?” Kie asks, and you smooth out your dress from where that guy had grabbed it.
“Only because JJ saved me,” you say, looking at him with big doe eyes and fluttering eyelashes. He swallows uncomfortably.
“No biggie, princess, I mean you know me, I’m a big damsel-in-stress kinda guy-” Kiara rolls her eyes and brings you inside, and he’s left standing there with pink-tinged ears.
He doesn’t tell them about how you were looking around for someone, anyone to help, how scared you look when he touched you, how your face visibly eased when you locked eyes with JJ, how you held a bag of frozen peas to his black eye and kissed his cheek before going back to find everyone earlier. He decides to keep that for himself.
You don’t keep an eye out for your surroundings when you tag along on their adventures either. That’s pretty much John B’s responsibility now, walking towards the back with you. You often start looking around, head in the clouds, staring at the trees and sky and walking right into a pile of mud or a puddle.
“Wow, the air is so clean out here,” you comment while taking a deep breath. It’s said quiet enough that only he can hear you.
“Yeah, pretty girl, that’s because of all the trees.” You laugh and shove his arm, because duh, but you can’t respond because the others are yelling for you two to catch up.
He doesn’t let you lead—you’ve cried over too many ruined shoes for him to risk it anymore—instead he holds onto your hand firmly, gripping tight when he needs you to slow down and pulling gently when it’s okay to proceed. It’s his job to make sure all the bugs are out of the way, that you’re not walking into a spiderweb or running after a butterfly or pretty bird. The others tease you two and laugh, but you still thank him with a tight hug, the thin material of your sports bra not really hiding much, murmuring something about no signs of mud on your new sneakers.
“Yeah, anytime,” he breathes after you’ve already walked away. You turn back to smile at him, adjusting your ridden-up tennis skirt you’d sported today. “Wouldn’t wanna dirty those shoes.”
You make Pope feel like the smartest guy in the world sometimes, without even trying. It’s not like you’re stupid, because he knows you’re not, but when you bite your cheek and tap his shoulder to ask him another question about whatever you were working on, your words start going to his head. 
“So if I wanna save this and put them all together, I just use this program? And I just use the mouse?” you say thoughtfully, repeating his instructions back to him.
“Yes, sweetheart,” and he tries his best to make sure he sounds patient—he’s learned from experience you don’t react well if you even suspect he’s getting frustrated.
Pope watches you play with the thin straps of your shirt before the string idly falls off your shoulder, exposing a swath of soft, sweet-smelling skin to him. Staring at your bare shoulder, he thinks he could never get frustrated at you even if he tried his hardest.  When you finish making your little vision-board on photoshop, you turn to show him proudly, and he is proud, with how well you followed his instructions and weren’t too shy to keep asking for his help. Later that night at the Chateau, you lean against his shoulder with his arm swung around you on the couch and explain what each of the images mean until you fall asleep. 
They’re all playing a game of chicken—wondering which one will be the first to cross that line and suggest something more than just friendship to you. Through empty cases of beer and boys-only fishing trips they’ve briefly discussed to each other that they’re interested, but of respect—to each other, not really to you—they haven’t made the first move just yet. No matter how difficult you make it.
At the beach you help the boys wax their surfboards, taking turns with each one, floating around a little tipsy already from your fruity drink. They’re all talking, but you don’t really pay attention, eyes staring at something in the distance.
JJ covers his mouth, imitating a walkie noise. 
“Hello, uh, earth to princess, over.” 
You turn back to him and his board, dropping the chunk of wax and leaning in. He blanks for a second—your pretty face getting closer, an eyeful of your tits in the tiny bikini you’re wearing today making his head spin. And you’re infront of everyone, which is definitely not how he’d thought he would win this little competition. 
“Do you see that pretty girl over there? Three o’clock?” 
“I see a pretty girl right in front of me,” he says, and you laugh, pushing his shoulder. He doesn’t realize that you think he’s just joking. 
“Jayj, seriously. See her?” He nods, but still doesn’t turn to look. “She’s been staring at you for, like, ten minutes. You should go over there!” 
You’re smiling big, like the idea of another girl talking to him sounds fun. He pulls back from you, confused.
“I need another beer.” He stalks off, walking to the boys while you turn to Kiara.
“What did I do wrong? I’m trying to get him laid-” Kiara rolls her eyes. You turn and see the boys in deep conversation, occasionally glancing back at you and Kie.
“She just told me to go flirt with some girl, like, right in front of her. I mean is this some kind of test?” He takes a long chug of the beer, sounding about as stressed as Pope and John B have ever seen. “Do I fail if I hook up with some rando? Or do I fail if I don’t hook up? It’s Schindler’s cat, man-”
“That’s not-” Pope starts, before being cut off.
“Sorry, sorry. Schrodinger’s kids.”
“No, JJ-”
“What the hell does she mean? So she wants us to hook up with other people?” John B cuts in, looking back at you, but something else on the beach seems to have caught your attention.
“Woah, I’m not doing that, but you two are more than welcome-” 
“Yeah, nice try, Pope. We get with some girl so you can tell her you stayed loyal and win her over? I don’t think so, genius-”
“Well, you’re the one she’s trying to set up so I think I’m pretty safe right now-”
“It’s not a reality show Pope, you can’t eliminate me.”
“Guys,” John B speaks up.
“If this was a show, I’d clearly be the fan favorite and the winner-”
“Uh, says who? I would so win, let’s do a poll right now and survey this beach-”
“Guys.” Louder this time, they listen to John. He doesn’t say anything, just stares into the distance and soon they join him, to see what he’s looking at.
“Y’gotta be fucking kidding me,” JJ says, watching you run into Rafe’s arms, swinging around before giving him a kiss. Rafe pulls away and looks straight at the three of them, while giving them a wave.
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