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itsascreambaby96 · 1 year

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Could you please write a poly!ghostface X reader friends to lovers smut (w/ some fluff)

I had so much fun with this! Thank you so much for the request! I hope you enjoy it! Please leave feedback🩷

(A/N: Header by me)

Warnings: SMUT! 18+, mdni. fem!reader. Oral both female and male recieving. Name calling, pet names, p in v sex. No use if condom(be responsible please, life isn't fanfiction). Drinking. Everyone in this fic is over 18. if I missed anything please let me know.

Pairing: Stu Macher x fem!reader x Billy Loomis

Word count: 6.7k

Just the three of us

You and Stu have been best friends since first grade. You were paired to sit together. Initially you thought he was pretty annoying. Always talking, not paying much attention and messing up your work. Little you was really ready to throw hands. Stu loved annoying you! He thought that was the best way to make friends. Taking away the pens you needed to finish your drawing in art class. Or copying your maths notes. Always asking you ridiculous questions that he knew you couldn't answer. He thought it funny how your little face scrunched up. Little Stu was a menace. But he didn't take too kindly to other kids picking on you. It almost never happened.

But when one of the older boys pushed you into the dirt one day, with your new dress, which he knew was new because he's never seen you wear it before and you told him so and were so happy about it, it was over. He didn't care that the boy was older than him, and slightly taller, he threw himself at the boy and a fight broke loose. The teacher pulled them apart. Stu was dirty but he didn't care. All he cared for was you. So once the teacher's were done with their chiding he ran to look for you. He didn't have to go very far as you were waiting for him. He thought you would snap at him but you gave him the biggest hug you could. Stu didn't know it yet but his heart skipped a beat and would do so ever since when you hugged him. Ever since then the two of you have been inseparable. He still annoyed you during classes but now you knew that he didn't mean bad by it and always had a smart comeback to his weird questions. No one could come between the two of you.

Or so you thought. Once you two entered middle school Stu met a new friend. His name was Billy. Suddenly Stu spent every minute with him. You hated it. You tried confronting Stu but he said that you made stuff up. Of course it hurt but maybe he was right? You gave him some space, which seemed to work in your favour as you made some other friends along the way. Girl friends, which you really didn't have before. Stu hated to see that. He was supposed to be your best friend. Suddenly he kept inviting you over again, so much so that you didn't spend so much time with your girl friends anymore. You tried to make time for them but it wasn't nearly enough. Most of them didn't want to hang out with you anymore. The only real girl friend you had was Tatum. She had a lot of friends so she never minded when you didn't have time, but she was also happy when you did.

The other down side with Stu inviting you over again was that Billy was there as well. You still didn't like him the first few times you came around. It wasn't like he was unfriendly or anything, just the fact that he stole your best friend. Stu must have talked to Billy cause the boy always made sure to be at his best behaviour around you. Making sure you started to like him. You don't really remember how it happened but suddenly it wasn't just you and Stu anymore but you, Stu and Billy. You really grew fond of Billy, you even developed a little crush on the boy at one point. Of course you never told him or Stu, for many reasons. One because you knew he didn't feel the same and two Stu would make fun of you. You also didn't want to ruin your little friend group. So you ignored it, which worked very well.

Until the summer before you guys started High School. You guys were 15 and at the Lake in the woods. You had bought a new bikini for the occasion. Stu's eyes widened as you took off your summer dress to reveal the new swimwear you bought. He was checking you out, and when he noticed his swim trunks getting tighter, he jumped into the lake immediately. He didn't care that it was cold as hell, on the contrary it helped him. When he came back up to the surface he heard your laugh and gave you his usual wide grin in return. He also noticed Billy checking you out, more subtle than him. He felt a little jealous but shook his head. That was silly.

You guys had an amazing day at the lake, several water fights and dunking each other, the previous thoughts all gone. It was late but the sun was still up. You were dry again and laughing with your boys. You don't know how it came up but they were telling you about their first kisses. To be honest you felt a little jealous but you thought that was because you didn't have your first kiss yet. It was a little embarrassing really, though you knew there was nothing wrong with it but you kind of felt left out of a secret club, that your best friends already joined without you. You had gotten really quiet as Stu tells the story of how he had "a real makeout session" with Stacy from your Math class. Billy noticed your lack of attention and nudged you softly, asking you what's wrong with you. That also got Stu's attention. Your face grew hot as now both Stu and Billy were looking at you. You averted your gaze and told them that you didn't have your first kiss yet. Billy shrugged his shoulders.

"That's not that bad. It's not like it's a big deal."

But that didn't really convince you.

"If it bothers you so much one of us could kiss ya." That got your attention and you looked at Stu.

"You are making fun of me!"

"Babes you know I would never!"

You just raise an eyebrow at that.

"Fine I do. But not right now. I am dead serious! Cross my heart!" He was doing the cross over his heart trying to look serious, but his eyes were full of mischief. You looked over to Billy.

"I mean… he is not wrong. If you really wanna."

That took you even more by surprise. You thought Billy would try to talk Stu out of it but you were wrong. He was also thinking this idea was great. You contemplated it. What would be the harm right? It's just a kiss. It's not like that would change anything. Right? Right.

"Alright."

"Really?" Stu asked, his face lit up like a childs on christmas.

"Yeah. I mean it's just a kiss right?"

"Yeah nothing special about it." Billy said.

"So who do you want to be your first?" Stu wiggled his eyebrows.

Your face grew hot again. Of course they were both attractive. And you had a crush on Billy once. But Stu was your best friend, you knew him longer. This gave you anxiety already. You didn't want it to be awkward with either one of them. But you also wanted this to be over. And who knows how much longer you'd have to go without kissing. You didn't want to be a bloody amateur when you got your first boyfriend.

So you decided. You stood up only to sit down right in front of Stu, who gave you a big smile. Little did you know that jealousy bubbled up in Billy at that. Though he didn't know who he was more jealous of, you or Stu. He shook his head.

"What do I do with my hands?"

"Whatever you want. You can put them around my neck or one on my face. Or you can just leave them at your side. Though that would be kinda awkward."

You nodded and so you shyly put your hands on Stu's shoulders, softly gripping them.

Your nerves were acting up as Stu slowly scooted a little closer and his face was inches from your own. You closed your eyes as you felt your lips connect. His lips were a little chapped but it didn't feel unpleasant. Then he started to move his lips, you tried to copy his movements. It wasn't perfect by any means, even a little sloppy, but you actually enjoyed yourself. You were clinging to Stu as he somehow managed to slip his tongue into your mouth and you let out a little squeak, feeling Stu grin against your lips. All too soon he broke the kiss. With your eyes still closed you tried to follow his lips. Stu let out a chuckle at that and you could hear Billy clear his throat. That snapped you out of your little trance, your face incredibly hot. You looked over to Billy.

"Wanna show me what you learned?"

Your eyes widened a little at that but you nodded nonetheless. He switched places with Stu real quick, Stu taking off his hands from your hips which you didn't even know were there. You already missed them. But they were replaced with Billy's. A little smaller than Stu's, but just as pleasantly warm. You wrapped your arms around his neck and Billy grinned, squeezing your hips a little.

"Ready?"

You nodded, smiling. Closing your eyes again as he closed the space between you two and his lips met yours. His lips were softer than Stu's, the kiss already feeling different than Stu's too. Less sloppy, as if Billy really knew what he was doing. He was easily dominating that kiss. You could really get used to kissing them. Scraping together every ounce of confidence you had you let your tongue slip inside his mouth, teasing his tongue with yours, just like you felt Stu do to you just moments ago. You could feel Billy letting out a soft sigh. Unbeknownst to you Stu was watching you two like a hawk. He wished he could join the two of you. You were getting a little lost in the feeling, your heart beating out of your chest. But Billy decided that this was long enough and broke the kiss. Your eyes fluttered open and you looked at Billy, his eyes never sucked you in more.

"I think you will be good now."

"Yeah, your future boyfriend will be really lucky." There was a slight edge to Stu's voice. But you couldn't figure out why.

After that, conversation resumed as normal and you were convinced that was the end of that. And it was. Nothing seemed to have changed and after the summer you guys went to highschool. Still the best of friends. Both Billy and Stu started dating a few girls here and there during that time. And even you went on a few dates but you were never really in love with them. They always seemed to have a problem with how close you were with Billy and Stu. More often than not they cheered you up after another guy dumped you. You were very grateful for that. You of course were there for them too. Stu being dumped by Casey Becker was really hard on him. You had a sleepover with him the whole weekend, with Billy showing up as well in the middle of the night. As much as Stu was upset it was one of the best weekends in a long time. You guys were watching movies all night, stuffing your face with Junk Food and sweets, and talking a lot. It felt like you grew closer to them again. While you guys were sleeping you were squished between them, Stu in front of you and Billy pressed against your back. It made you feel all warm inside and you realised that you might be feeling more for your best friends than you were supposed to. You knew nothing would happen so you were just happy with what you've got.

Now it was your 18th Birthday. Initially you just wanted a chill day, maybe going to eat some pizza with your boys but Stu had a different idea. And so you were at his house, which was full of people. You were convinced Stu invited the whole school. Both Billy's and Stu's 18th birthdays were a few months ago but they didn't have this big of a party, you think. You were making your way to the couch, people wishing you a happy birthday left and right. Finally you could join Tatum and Sydney on the sofa letting out a big sigh.

"Stu really went all out for you huh?"

"Yeah. I think it's a bit much but I couldn't say no to him when he looked at me with his big puppy eyes and his stupid grin."

"So when are you going to tell him you are in love with him?"

You choked on your own saliva at that.

"I am not in love with him."

"Sure, keep telling yourself that."

"You know I am pretty sure you are not supposed to tease the birthday girl on her birthday."

Tatum rolled her eyes playfully.

"Whatever."

You continued talking with the two girls when suddenly Stu plopped down next to you, throwing an arm around your shoulder.

"You having fun, pretty girl?"

You gave him a soft smile.

"Yeah. Thanks again for the party. But you know I would have been fine with it just being a chill night with you guys and some drinks maybe and a cake. By the way, why is there no cake?" You were pouting a little. The cake was always the best thing about birthdays.

Stu laughed at that.

"Don't worry. Billy is bringing the cake. And no he didn't bake it. That would go horribly." You giggled and softly hit his chest.

"I think you are confusing his baking abilities with your own."

He looked at you in fake shock.

"I am a fantastic baker, just so you know."

"Mhmh yeah and that time you let the cookies burn that were supposed to be sold at the baking sale two years ago was totally intentional."

"Totally!" You two laughed again.

A few moments later Billy came in with the cake. They lit the candles and everyone began to sing Happy Birthday to you. You hated every second of it, not knowing what to do with yourself besides standing there. Both Billy and Stu grinning, they knew you hated this kind of attention on yourself. You were relieved when you finally could blow out the candle and everyone got a piece of cake, including you.

Billy came over to you, hugging you close.

"Happy Birthday sweetheart."

"Thanks Billy." You always enjoyed his hugs. Other than Stu, Billy wasn't much of a hugger, so his hugs were a tad more special. Not that you disliked Stu's hugs though. Speaking of Stu, he couldn't stand being left out and so he wrapped you and Billy in a big bear hug.

"I love you guys so much!"

"How much did you have to drink already?" You were giggling. Billy, not so amused, nudged Stu rather harshly with his elbow, so Stu let go of you.

After finishing your cake, and drinking another beer, you went dancing with your girl friends. You weren't much of a dancer usually but it's your birthday and maybe you should let a little loose here and there. So that's what you did. Soon after you felt a pair of hands on your hips, pulling you close to a hard chest. You were about to tell the person off but you recognised Stu's cologne instantly. Relaxing, you continued dancing. Getting bolder you started to dance more suggestively, swaying your hips more, going down almost to your knees and back up. When you were back up, Stu turned you around. Your arms flew around his neck, smiling up at him. You couldn't quite pin the look in his eyes but you didn't care. You craved his lips on yours. Your eyes flicked down to them and you could see them forming a lazy grin, his tongue poking out to wet them. You were mesmerised by the movement, your own lips parting slightly, making Stu's eyes flick down to then. His eyes became more hooded and his face inched closer. Your eyes were fluttering close, his breath fanning over your face, the smell of beer, which you would normally find disgusting was invading your senses paired with Stu's own intoxicating smell. The anticipation was slowly killing you. You could already feel his lips brush yours when suddenly Stu was janked back making you stumble.

You blinked your eyes open and saw him with a group of guys hollering and throwing shots back. You let out a huff, disappointment settling in. Without looking at him again you pushed past the group and went into the kitchen to get another drink. In the kitchen you found some people making out, blocking you from the counter with the drinks. Groaning, you took a bottle of water and went back to the living room. You could see Stu, he was still with the same group of guys, laughing and dancing. You just shook your head, plopping down on the couch. Your sour mood didn't last long as some Tatum pulled you up by the arms again and started dancing with you. The little incident between you and Stu soon forgotten

Some time around 1 o'clock in the morning when the last person left, you were helping Stu clean up. Billy was also there though really you were the only one cleaning up. The two boys were on the couch talking quietly amongst each other. After you finished the kitchen, you decided that the rest could be done tomorrow. Well technically today.

You plopped down between them, not noticing the look they shared.

"You had a great time today?" It was Billy asking you.

You nodded, smiling.

"I normally don't like big parties like that."

"But?" It was Stu's turn to ask.

"But … this was amazing. Thank you again." You put your palm against Stu's cheek, smiling softly at him. Realising how close you were to him, it reminded you of the situation earlier, making your face heat up. You had to look away, opting to look over at Billy. Which was a mistake. He gave you the same intense look you had seen on Stu earlier. You cleared your throat a little, looking away. You felt two fingers softly gripping your chin, turning your face towards Billy again, who was so much closer to you now. Your breath got caught in your throat. You were about to ask him what's wrong but before you could even form one word, Billy's lips were on you, soft yet firm. You were shocked but not in a bad way. Your eyes fluttered close and you were melting against Billy. Completely forgetting that Stu was right behind you. Billy's lips moved against yours with determination, his tongue slipping inside your mouth soon after. You were so lost in the kiss that you at first didn't notice that Stu began to pepper your neck with kisses. Only when he started to suck a mark onto your soft skin did you realise, letting out a breathy moan, leaning against Stu now.

Billy parted from you, making you almost whine. He grinned at that, taking a quick look at you. Your eyes were closed, now biting your lip as Stu still worked on the one side of your neck. Your eyebrows were pulled together in pleasure. You felt like your heart was beating out of your chest, even more so when Billy began to kiss the other side of your neck. One of Stu's hands creeping you to one of your boobs, groping and squeezing the soft flesh. A breathy moan left you. The both of them were driving you wild. You were gripping at Billy's shirt, making him bite into your neck. One of his hands was working on your pants, slipping a hand inside of them once it was opened. His hand dipped into your panties and he let out a pleased hum.

"My my, already drenched and we barely did anything to you yet sweetheart. 'S that all for us?" Billy spoke against your neck, leaving goosebumps.

You quickly nodded your head, a breathy "Yes" left your lips. You could feel Stu grinning against your neck.

Billy slowly dragged a finger through your wet folds, making you squirm in Stu's grip. After a little more of this teasing, having coated his fingers in your juice, Billy slipped one of his fingers inside of your dripping hole. Your mouth opened in a silent moan, Stu's hand grabbing your boob harder. Billy began to slowly fuck you open with his finger. Your head fell against Stu, one arm behind you, around Stu's neck, gripping him at the nape of his neck, the other hand still fisting Billy's shirt. You tried to muffle your moans, which soon flew out of the window as Billy added a second finger soon after. You had sex before but those guys never fingered you. Heck even the sex with them was nothing compared to what Billy could do to you with his two fingers. You wondered, if this is how good his fingers could make you feel, how amazing must it feel to be really fucked by him.

Billy's intense gaze never left your face as he fucked you with his fingers, his pants were growing tighter by the minute, he knew Stu was in much the same position. Billy started scissoring his fingers, his thumb soon joining in to play with your clit. You started withering, but lucky for you and Billy, Stu had a tight grip on you. He had resumed sucking hickey's onto your neck.

"I always knew you were tight. But fuck this is even better than I imagined. Can't wait to stuff you full with my dick."

Billy's words only made you more wet, if that was even possible. Even with your pants still on you could hear the squelching sound your pussy made, feeling Stu's hard dick press into your lower back told you he liked what he was hearing too. Your skin felt so hot, one could think you had a fever, a soft sheen of sweat on your forehead and your cleavage formed. Stu wanted nothing more than to lick it off of the swell of your boobs.

Suddenly Billy removed his fingers, making you whine in protest. Both boys chuckled at that.

"What's the problem, pretty girl?" Stu's tone was mocking, but it only made you hornier. You didn't dare speak.

"Cat's got your tongue?" Billy's voice didn't sound any less taunting. You looked at them both pleadingly. Billy pulled his hand out of your pants, ready to lick his fingers clean, but Stu stopped him, gripping Billy's wrist. Stu leaned forward and closed his mouth around Billy's fingers, holding eye contact with the other one. Billy let out an audible breath through his nose. Your mouth dropped open as you watched the two. It made you realise that this was definitely not the first time these two have fooled around. You felt a bit honoured that they felt comfortable enough to show you this. Once Stu seemed satisfied he popped Billy's fingers out of his mouth, making a show of licking his lips.

"Delicious." He kept grinning. Billy gave you a quick glance, before his eyes locked back onto Stu. He gripped the boy's shirt and pulled him closer, making you fall a little to the side, as their lips connected. You could see that it was all tongues and teeth, both of them groaning. Billy could taste you on Stu's tongue and it was driving him crazy. They parted and you could see a string of saliva connecting them. They grinned at each other, then their gaze turned back to you, making you feel even hotter than before. Their look was almost predatory, making you gulp. In a matter of seconds they removed your clothes and you were back against Stu's chest, sitting almost at the edge of the couch. Billy was sitting in front of you, having a perfect view at your glistening folds.

"Damn, Stu wish you could see this. Most perfect little pussy I have ever seen." Billy couldn't take his eyes off of it. You were squirming under Billy's gaze.

"Please Billy."

"Did ya hear that Billy? I think our precious girl wants something." You looked up at Stu, pleading with your eyes.

"I did hear. Though I am not sure what exactly it is that you want. Tell us Princess. Don't be shy."

"Yeah, don't be shy now."

You swallowed, grabbing onto every ounce of confidence and self control you still owned.

"Could you please put your mouth on my pussy Billy?" Your voice came out weaker than anticipated. You were afraid he didn't hear you, making you repeat yourself. But he did.

"Aw, of course, pretty girl. Can't leave the birthday girl hanging now, can I?"

You shook your head fast. Billy gave you one last grin, before diving in. Your hands gripped onto his hair in seconds. You always knew his mouth was good but this exceeded your expectations. You didn't care if your moans sounded pathetic, you only knew how good it felt having Billy suck on your clit, having two of his fingers in your pussy again. You were basically grinding against him, one of his hands squeezing your thigh. That would definitely leave a bruise you were sure, but you didn't mind in the slightest. Stu turned your face to the side so he could kiss you. Moaning against his lips as you could feel Billy switching it up, his thumb now rubbing your clit as his tongue was deep inside of you.

Stu on the other hand was kissing you like his life depended on it. There was nothing of the uncertainty he had when you guys first shared your first kiss. But still sloppy, in a different kind of way. His tongue was massaging yours, one of his hands on your boobs again, toying with your nipples. He was biting your lip, almost drawing blood, making you squeal.

Billy was looking up, groaning at seeing the two of you kiss. Your grip on his hair getting tighter by the second and he could feel your gummy walls clamping around his tongue. He began to lick and suck at your harsher. He desperately wanted to see you fall apart for him and Stu. You had to part from Stu with a gasp, breathing in deep. Stu pulled at your bottom lip. Your eyebrows were creased together. You were so close. Looking down at Billy you swore his eyes were glinting. He knew you were going to come, you could tell. Your lips were swollen, from the kiss with Stu, who was still playing with your nipples. Pulling and squeezing and twisting, the pain of it so pleasurable. This, paired with Billy's relentless mouth on your dripping pussy, seriously you were sure you would be dripping on the floor, wouldn't it be for Billy sucking it all up, were enough to send you flying over the edge. A high pitched moan left your lips, your thighs clamping around Billy's head, your hips lifting off of the edge of the sofa as your orgasm crashed through you. It has never felt so intense before. Stu was holding you close as Billy helped you ride out every last drop of your pleasure.

Stu softly pecked the side of your head when you finally calmed down. Billy didn't waste a drop of your juice and you had to push his head away from you, releasing him from between your thighs. His chin and lips were wet from your arousal. His eyes almost black. He made a show of licking his lips and you could feel Stu shuffling behind you.

Billy was the first to speak. "You ok sweetheart?"

You nodded. "I'm fucking fantastic." He gave you a cheeky grin.

"Do you wanna continue orrrrr…" Stu spoke up behind you.

You chuckled breathless. "Definitely continue."

Billy stood up helping you stand up on shaky legs. He gave you a cheeky grin at that, making you swat his chest, giggling.

When Stu stood up he didn't waste a second to throw you over his shoulder, giving your ass a slap, groping it right after. He made his way up the stars, Billy right behind the two of you.

Inside the room, Stu threw you onto the bed, making you bounce. Both of the boys looking at your boobs. You almost wanted to cover up from their intense staring. Stu was the first to snap out of it, removing his clothes, almost tripping as he took off his pants. His erection slapping against his lower stomach. You moaned quietly at the sight, biting your lip. The tip was a deep pink, already leaking precum, there was a slight curve upwards. He was definitely longer than your previous boyfriends and just a tad bit girthier.

"Like what ya seeing babe?" He gave you a grin, but you couldn't see any of his usual silliness shine through. All you could see in his eyes was hunger. And you were pretty sure you were his next meal. He came stalking over to you, taking both your ankles into his hand he pulled you closer to him, making you lie down on your back in the process. As he crawled over you, you wrapped your legs around him, making him feel your wet heat on his throbbing dick.

"You have no idea how long I've wanted to do this." He was almost growling.

"Then let's not waste any more time, yeah?" Your voice was dripping with excitement. Stu gave you a quick but forceful peck before lining up with your heat. He was rubbing his tip between your folds. Both of you were mesmerising as he slowly pushed inside of you. The both of you are moaning in unison.

"Fuck Billy's right. 'S the most perfect little pussy. Shit you're grippn me so tight."

"Stu please move."

You were trying to rock against him but he was gripping your hips so hard there would definitely be handprint bruises. No chance of moving.

"Shit wait a sec babe, don't wanna bust too soon. You feel so good around me."

You could hear a scoff behind you. Craning your neck you could see Billy standing on the other side of the bed. Naked. Your eyes immediately go to his dick. He was definitely girthier than Stu, not as long tho. His tip also a bit darker than Stu's.

"What are you a fucking virgin Stu?" Billy was teasing.

"Shut up man, you wouldn't be able to control yourself either."

With that Stu began to almost pull out entirely making you whine, which soon turned into a loud moan as he snapped his hips back into yours, sending you moving along the bed. Your head getting closer to Billy's dick as he was still standing on the edge on the other side. Stu's pace was relentless, reaching so deep inside you, you swear you could almost feel him inside your throat. He didn't hold back with his moans either. Ever the vocal type no matter what. You didn't mind though, it let you know that he was enjoying himself. Billy shuffled a little closer, gripping his dick. You were already salivating at the thought of having him inside your mouth. He twirled his tip on your lips, coating them in his precum.

"Open up sweetheart."

You didn't need to be told twice, open your mouth eagerly. Billy gave an appreciative hum as he slowly slid into your mouth. You were gagging a little but still wanted more.

Stu was still snapping into you, watching as you swallowed Billy's cock.

"Damn you really are an eager little slut huh?"

Stu's speech was slightly slurred, completely drunk on your pussy. Billy was slowly fucking your mouth, tears were welling up in your eyes. You were loving every second of this. His hands gripped your boobs, squeezing them, using them as leverage too. They were making you see stars, especially when Billy pushed himself all the way in, holding you there for a few seconds. Stu groaned seeing your throat swell around Billy's dick. He couldn help but touch it. Then Billy pulled out, letting you take a breath. You were gagging, tears streaming out of your eyes. Once you inhaled enough air again you pulled Billy back in, eagerly taking him back into your mouth. Bobbing your head best you could in this position, sucking on the tip every time you came up. Stu started to rub circles on your clit, making you clamp down on him.

He let out a breathy "Fuck." You were growing closer by the second. You could tell by Stu's sloppy thrusts that he was nearing his end too. Billy started to throb inside your mouth. He was ready to pull out and came all over your tits but you had a different plan. Pulling him back in. Billy groaned at your eagerness, coming down your throat almost instantly. You swallowed everything eagerly. Then he pulled out, with a satisfied hum. He softly strokes your cheek, bending down to give you a peck. Then he left to go get everyone some water to drink.

Stu gripped your cheeks, squeezing them and kissing you hungrily, still drilling into you. You were whimpering, so close now. He was still rubbing your clit and your legs began to shake and you came, with a high pitched scream. With a loud groan Stu followed right behind you and came deep inside of you. Riding out both of your orgasms, your legs still shaking. He came to a halt, dropping on top of you, making all air leave your lungs. You had half a mind telling him to get off, but it was actually nice to have his weight on top of you. You wrapped your arms around him, softly scratching his back. He was letting out satisfied hums.

"Am I interrupting?"

You hadn't noticed Billy entering the room again. His voice had an edge to it.

"Don't be silly. Come here."

Your voice, a little scratchy, was still soft when saying this.

He let out a huff but still came over to the bed. Stu finally moved, pulling out of you and laying down beside you. Billy took his place on your other side, giving you an open water bottle that you could drink. You gave him a thankful kiss and you could swear he was actually blushing a little at this, like he hasn't just eaten you out like a starved man and fucked your throat moments ago. You were gulping down the water while Billy cleaned you up between your legs with a rag. Once he was done he threw it to the side not caring where it landed really.

You were snuggling up to him, Stu close behind you, enjoying the comfort of the post orgasmic bliss. You closed your eyes, very tired now. You guys should talk about what just happened and what it meant for your friendship but you were too tired.

You were almost asleep when suddenly Stu jolted upward. "Oh!"

"Shit! What?!"

You almost had a heart attack.

"We forgot to give you your birthday present!I'll be right back!"

With that he was out of the bed walking downstairs to get your present.

"Is he serious now? That could have waited till morning"

You dropped your head onto Billy's chest.

Billy just shrugged.

Stu came back in with a big smile on his face, jumping onto the bed.

You were sitting up, the blanket dropping into your lap. Revealing your chest, distracting Stu again. You giggled and gently lifted his head again.

"Concentrate Stu."

"Right, sorry. They are just -" He made a motion with his hands towards your boobs.

You rolled your eyes playfully.

"He is not wrong, you know?"

You giggled.

Stu gave you a little box adorned with a bow.

"You didn't have to get me anything you know that right?"

"Oh we know."

"Yeah but we wanted to. So just enjoy it and say thank you." Billy nudged you.

You gave them both a kiss. "Thank you."

Smiling softly you opened the box, revealing a delicate bracelet with two charms on it.

"Get it? The charms represent Billy and me!" Stu was so excited.

"That is so sweet!" You were touched.

"I knew you'd like it!" Stu threw an arm around your shoulder.

"See? This is me and this is Billy."

He pointed to the little headphones first. It was rare to see him without them and his cd player these days. Then he pointed at the little knife, with a drop of gemstone blood in it. Definitely Billy. He was obsessed with horror stuff.

"It is perfect. Thank you so much."

And you meant it. Billy put it on for you and you looked at it adoringly. You put your arm down and looked at them both happily.

"Soooooooo…"

"So?"

"I mean I guess I just wanna know what this means for our friendship?"

"Well we should upgrade it."

"To what?"

"A relationship. Duh." Stu said it like it was the most obvious thing.

"You sure?"

"Sweetheart, we've wanted you for ages."

You looked at Billy like he grew a second head.

"You did?!"

"Yeah. You never noticed?"

Shaking your head you looked at the both of them.

"Guess you are stuck with us now."

Stu grinned from ear to ear.

You rolled your eyes smiling.

"Like I wasn't before."

"Yeah but now it will be even harder for you to get rid of us."

"Good thing I wanna keep you both."

"Mh. You better." Billy was smiling but there was something else to his tone. You almost wouldn't notice. And you didn't but Stu did, keeps grinning.

"Of course. I would be lost without you!" You held the back of your hand against your forehead for dramatic effect, giggling.

Billy groaned playfully. "Damn what have I gotten myself into?"

You and Stu shoved him, laughing until a yawn interrupted you.

"Alright you two. It's time to get some sleep."

"Yes dad." Stu was rolling his eyes.

"Damn Stu I didn't know you were into that." You began laughing again.

"Oh you will be surprised about all the things I'm into."

He gave you a mischievous grin. Biting your lip you grinned as well.

"Can't wait to find out."

"Ok stop it you two horny fuckers."

" Pf. Just you wait until you find out what Billy's into. He actually loves it when he can ca-" Stu couldn't finish the sentence, as Billy hit him across the head.

"Ow!"

"Sleep. Now. We can get into kinks another time." With that Billy was laying down.

"I can't wait. You will be surprised what I'm into." You hummed and got comfy next to Billy, who put an arm around you.

Stu was bouncing next to you.

"Ohhh is it something freaky?"

"Stu…"

"No, now you got me curious!"

"Stu."

"I won't be able to sleep! Give me a hint! Please!" He was basically begging now.

You rolled your eyes.

"It might involve getting nicked with a knife. Now come here and sleep, I won't say more."

You could feel Billy tensing up a bit, not knowing that this little bit of information riled him up again. Stu's mouth had dropped open. Not believing what he heard. Now he was really intrigued. You could feel he was about to say something else so you stopped him before he could.

"Sleep. Now."

Stu cuddled close behind you. You were out like a light in seconds.

Stu and Billy looked at you.

"We really hit the jackpot with her."

"Totally!"

Billy was almost asleep when Stu spoke up again.

"You think she would let us carve an S and a B into her? Small ones of course. Maybe on her hip."

Billy groaned at that, now the idea will be stuck with him. But that was a conversation for another time.

#stu macher x reader #billy loomis x reader #scream #ghostface x reader #ghostface #billy loomis smut #stu macher smut #billy loomis #stu macher #billy loomis x you #stu macher x you #billy loomis imagine #stu macher imagine #poly!ghostface #stu macher x reader x billy loomis #billy loomis x reader x stu macher #poly!ghostface x reader #bea's writing

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feralthoughtdump · 10 months

Text

Let Me Wrap My Teeth Around The World

Warnings: minors DNI, small age gap (everyone is 18+), manipulation, love-bombing, possessiveness, social anxiety, the male gaze, financial exploitation, obsessive behavior, ownership, toxic dynamics, moral corruption, smut, virginity loss, coercion, dubcon, dark

Word Count: 4.1K

It’s been a while since Coriolanus found someone as the object of his affection. The last time was a few years ago, and it did no good for him. But this shy, sweet, beautiful Capitol girl was someone who could pose no risk to him and seemed to have wormed her way into the recesses of his mind.

She was the shy girl in one of his University classes. Rumors circulated about her wealth or lack thereof. She was some prodigy who earned her way into the school through merit rather than money, and it left an open inquiry as to who her parents were. He didn’t know what drew him in. The House of Snow had just regained a semblance of wealth and power, and associating with a girl like her could easily create cracks in the foundation.

She wasn’t wealthy enough to come from a district family who bought their way in, but she certainly wasn’t like the other students who took classes with her. Though she wasn’t wealthy, she wasn’t necessarily poor, at least not as poor as his family used to be, but he could recognize the signs of the consistent repair in her uniform, using the same stitches Tigris would use on his old clothing. It turns out she had come from a family of seamstresses and artists.

He also learned that she loved pretty things, not just spotting them but making them. Her apartment was always decorated with little knick-knacks and drawings that covered the walls. Coriolanus would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy spending time in her dingy apartment. It was small, run-down, nothing more than a studio with a bed, desk, kitchenette, and a heat pipe that screeches and clangs at the most ungodly hour. But he loves staring at how her brows furrow as she sketches or how she tucks her lower lip between her teeth in frustration. Despite being unable to help her work, she was always happy to have him around.

This leads him to her small apartment at least once a month with a new pair of pants that were a bit too long or one of his father’s old shirts

Even though he could afford to have his pants hemmed by a tailor or simply ask Tigris, he prefers going to her. After all, she’s become familiar with his preferred inseam length, and Tigris has become colder and colder towards him.

He always insists on paying her even if she refuses.

“We’re friends, Corio,” She said the first time. “You don’t have to pay me.”

“Just this once, let me take care of you.” He insisted, pressing the cash into the palm of her hand.

Just this once turned into every single time. Then, it became buying her meals and small gifts. He got her internships with other high-ranking game makers. Eventually, he convinced her that her old apartment was too small and worn down for a nice girl like her, and he moved her into a spare room in his apartment and turned the other into a studio. Then, he started taking her to parties and events she could never afford to go to, and he always made sure to buy her a dress even if she insisted that it would cost less if she could just make one herself.

When their fellow students would snicker at her, he’d slip poison into their drinks. Never enough to kill them, just to get them sick for a week or so.

Somehow, Coriolanus finds himself taking her under his wing, becoming a mentor to her in some type of way. She maintained that soft and sweet air about her, but with his help, she became someone her peers respected. Once, she was the girl who made other students in the University roll their eyes because she always tried too hard. Now, she was the girl who had connections and handed in exemplary work. She was the carefully created success story of a middle-class Capitol girl who climbed the ladder with hard work and determination. Now, she could spread her wings and fly, but only as far as he would allow.

With the arrival of winter comes the start of planning another year of games, and the Crane family was more than happy to host a commencement gala.

This time, he bought her a pretty red dress she eyed in a store window a few days ago.

The quiet gasp she lets out when he opens the box is music to his ears.

“It’s even more beautiful in person.” She whispers the fabric pooling in her hands like blood. “I can’t let you keep buying me things like this. I can’t take this.”

He fights the urge to roll his eyes. She always opposes, with her voice becoming soft, objections and promises to pay him back, tumbling from her lips. But that wasn’t what he cared about. He cared about how she presented herself. He got her internships and dragged her out of that shoebox of a studio apartment. She was a product of his hard work, and he wanted to show it off. “Think of it as a gift.” He smiles, gently lifting her chin to meet his eyes. “You’ve worked hard these past few months.”

“Corio…”

“Put it on; we have to leave in a few minutes.”

…

She’s stuck to his side whenever they attend these events. Her shy demeanor doesn’t do well in large crowds, and with an endless supply of expensive liquor, Coriolanus doesn’t want her wandering about alone.

Throughout the evening, she’s been good. Smiling, looking pretty. Saying hello to the people he introduces her to, holding onto his arm, and letting him know when she’s feeling overwhelmed so he can rub circles on her back.

People compliment her, telling her how beautiful she looks. Pride thumps against his chest. Of course, she looks beautiful. The dress he picked falls on her body like it was made for her. The red is beautiful against her skin, and the fabric drapes beautifully around her hips, showing off her elegant back.

Eventually, she breaks away from him, needing to use the restroom. But after a while, he realizes something isn't right without her beside him.

He worries when he can’t see her, and he finds himself rushing through small conversations and pushing past people to try and find her in a sea of people.

Eventually, he spots her staring at the city's vast expanse, leaning on the balcony's edge. She’s slowly nursing her third glass of champagne in one hand, and the other picks at the cuticles of her thumb.

That wasn’t a good sign.

“What’s wrong?” He inquires, approaching her with a hand on her back.

She jumps at his touch, but relief crosses her face when she sees him. The last of the champagne is quickly swallowed, and she passes the empty glass to an approaching waiter.

“Nothing, really. I’m okay.”

From the tension in her forehead, he can clearly tell that she isn’t okay. Though he knows she hates it when he pries, he still chooses to do so.

“You aren’t, so tell me what’s wrong.”

There’s a beat of silence, and she sighs.

“I feel out of place, Corio. I feel like I don’t belong here.”

“What do you mean? Of course, you belong here.”

“Everyone here is just so…” She looks down at her heels, trying to find the right words “I don’t know, I’m younger than everyone, and most of the people here have played a part in the games and all I’ve done is get coffee and print papers for them.”

Her lashes flutter as if blinking away tears, and he can’t have that. Not here.

“Hey,” he lifts her chin with his fingers and strokes her flushed cheek with his thumb. “Don’t get all tearful on me. You’re with me. I promise you, you belong here.”

From the frown curling on her lips, his words clearly aren’t working, so he shifts the conversation. “What do you dream of being? What do you want to do?”

She opens her mouth but hesitates.

“Promise you won’t think it’s stupid?”

“I promise.”

“I’d like to be a designer.” A small smile starts to cross her face. “A fashion designer with my own line and everything.”

He could see a future where everyone in the Capitol wore her designs. Or not everyone. She was too good for that. All of his hard work has been put into helping her rise alongside him. If she wanted to do something, she had to be the best.

“I think you would make a great designer.” Without a second thought, he presses a small kiss to her forehead. “I know you will. I’ve seen your work.”

A giggle falls from her lips, and affection blooms in his chest. Nowadays, he wonders if he could ever love someone. But love is so subjective. He had molded her into someone who would be fit to stand by him as he rose in the ranks. Isn’t that the closest thing there is to love?

…

“Here, let me help you.”

The champagne has loosened her up, causing her to stumble on her feet. She leans against him and laughs when his arm hooks under her knees to carry her past the front door.

“Such a gentleman.” She croons. “Always taking care of me.”

“It’s what I do best.”

He sets her down on the edge of his bed so he can bend down to undo her heels. Without much thinking, he gently kisses the inside of her ankle. His eyes gaze up at her, gauging her reaction, and she shyly tells him, “I really want to kiss you right now.”

It’s as if something in him shifts. Coriolanus always harbored an attraction to her. On multiple occasions, he would fuck his fist after their little “tailoring” appointments, thinking about her on her knees, his cock stuffed in her mouth. Ever since she moved in, he’d sneak glances through the crack of her door, catching glimpses of her in stages of undress. He’s never acted upon it. His ego certainly wouldn’t be able to take the rejection, but now that she’s asking him to kiss her with those soft lips and glittering doe eyes, he’s safe to act on his desires.

He surges forward, engulfing her in his hold. Hands cupping her face to keep her lips pressed against his. His teeth graze across her bottom lip,

She smells like vanilla and roses, igniting that deep-seated hunger inside him.

He has always hungered for power within the political spheres of Panem, but right now, his hunger is hyperfocused on her. To own her, to control her.

He wants her to answer every beck and call. If he were to say jump, she would ask, ‘How high?’ If he asked her to crawl to him, she’d drag her delicate knees across whatever surface she stood on. He wants her to belong to him—mind, body, and soul.

Their lips are locked together as her hands fumble to remove her dress. Sensing her struggle, he releases her face to help, undoing the ties around her neck. She carefully lets it fall off her body, letting the vibrant red silk pool around her feet.

“I’ve never done this before.” She murmurs against his lips. “I haven’t done anything past kissing.”

“Really?” He looks down at her and wants to coo in adoration when she shyly glances away. “No one’s ever touched you before?”

“Just… myself… and this one boy from the academy a few years ago but it was over our uniforms.” She hesitates, and he can feel his cock twitch in his pants. Coriolanus already owned most of her clothing, living space, and future career. It was all owed to him. But her virginity? He can truly make her his. His girl.

He crawls on top of her, caging her in his arms.

“I’ll be gentle. I promise.”

His fingers trace her skin, from the line of her neck past her collarbones, dipping under the white lace underwear that clings to her hips.

“These are pretty.” He flicks the rosette sewn to the center of the waistband. “Did you wear these for me?”

“Maybe. I made them myself.”

She lifts her hips, allowing him to slide them down her legs. They part, creating room for him to slot himself in between her knees. Her hands reach to remove his shirt, but he bats them away.

“Just relax. I’ll take care of you.”

As he unbuttons his shirt, he observes the way her chest rises and falls, how her lips are parted, and how her tongue darts out to lick at her lips in anticipation.

His fingers push past her lips, pressing down on her eager tongue, already swirling over them.

“Get them wet. I don’t want to hurt you.”

Her eyes close as she sucks on the digits. Saliva pools in her mouth, dripping past the corners of her lips.

They are released with a pop, and Coriolanus groans, the strain in his pants becoming unbearable.

Two of his wet fingers slide between her folds, teasing at her opening. A gasp slips past her parted lips at the feeling of his fingers pushing in. It was torturous how he managed to curl his fingers just right, eliciting a stifled whine from her lips. She pulls her hips away, overwhelmed by the stretch and the growing pressure inside of her. Though he knows she’s fingered herself before, his fingers must feel foreign, better than what she can do for herself.

He pushes a third inside of her, opening her up, and he can feel how she flexes around him. She wraps her fingers around his wrist, trying to pull his hand away, but he persists, continuing to curl his fingers against that spot inside of her.

“Don’t fight it.” He demands, pistoning his fingers. “I’m just trying to make you feel good.”

Her gasps and whines eventually turn into moans. She clenches around his fingers and bucks her hips forward as if her body is begging him for more.

“I think,” She arches her back, and her voice becomes gaspy as if fighting to fill her lungs with air. “I think I’m close.”

“Already?” He spits onto her clit and presses his thumb against it. Electricity surges through her body as he rubs it in slow circles. She watches him with parted lips and shaky breathing as he fuels her oncoming orgasm. “Oh, you’re making this too easy for me.”

Her head is thrown back, and a strangled moan falls from her lips—sticky arousal floods around his fingers, and her walls spasm around them.

“There you go.” He soothes, pressing kisses to her cheek. “That feels good, huh?”

She’s laid out on the comforter, chest heaving and skin flushed. Coriolanus grabs his stiff cock through his pants, trying to ease the growing tension. But he decides he can’t wait to give her a break.

Her ears perk up at the metallic clink of him undoing his belt.

“Corio, I- I don’t think-”

He shushes her with a kiss.

“It’s alright, you can take it. Yeah? Remember what I promised?”

“That you’d be gentle.”

“That’s right.” He kicks off his pants and frees his cock from the confines of his briefs. “I’ve always been good to you, haven’t I?”

She nods in agreement, eyes widening at the size of him.

He licks his lips as he presses the tip against her cunt, slowly easing his cock inside of her.

As he sheathes himself inside of her, he presses her thighs to her chest, forcing himself deeper into her warmth.

She lets out a sharp cry and grabs his waist, trying to push him back.

“You’re too big, Corio. I don’t think you’ll fit.”

He hurries to kiss away her complaints. To distract her from the pain. He couldn’t wait. He needed to feel her. He needed her. Whispering against her lips, he soothes her. “You’re okay. I’ll go slow. Yeah?”

Broken moans fall from her lips as he bottoms out. He groans in pleasure as her fingernails dig into his back, scrambling for some kind of purchase. She was so tight, so wet, and so warm, gripping onto him like a vice.

Very carefully, he rocks his hips back and forth, letting her adjust to him. The sounds she makes, combined with the slick squelch of her cunt are obscene. Even with his slow movements, he doesn’t think he’ll be able to last long.

He drops his lips to her neck, teeth grazing the fragile skin before biting down.

“Ah- please, don’t leave a mark.”

Disregarding her words, he sucks a slowly blooming bruise onto her neck. He doesn’t care if it’s dark. He wants people to see it and know who left it there.

Maybe he does love her, he thinks. He loves how she complements him, her sweetness dampening his harsher attributes. He loves her creativity, her ambition, and how she always hungers to better herself. She’s perfect. She could be more than just a designer. She could be influential, a figure in the history of Panem.

“I have an idea.” He hums against her neck, stilling his hips.

“Yeah?”

“I want you to be part of the games.”

“What do you mean?” She impatiently shifts her hips, trying to get him to move again.

“You can be a…” he pauses to think, looking into her blown-out pupils, “a stylist. You can design the tributes' looks for the opening ceremony and the interviews. Maybe we can implement uniforms for the actual games.”

She pulls back, but he keeps her locked in place, hands grabbing at the flesh of her hips. Her eyes no longer look glazed over with lust. Instead, there’s a flash of clarity within them.

“No.”

“What do you mean, no?”

“No, Corio.” Her voice is firm. She has her mind made up. “I won’t do it.”

His lust begins to mix with anger. She can’t deny him. Not now, not ever. Not after everything he has done for her.

His hand reaches for her chin, and she whimpers.

“Yes, you will because I’m not asking.”

“You can’t tell me what to do.” She struggles against his hold. “You don’t own me.”

“Don’t bite the hand that feeds you,” He snarls, fingers digging into her jaw. “I gave you this life, and I can easily take it away from you.”

“Let go of me, please.”

Earlier promises of being gentle are tossed away. She’s beginning to let out pained squeaks from the pressure on her cheeks, and the hand on her hip digs into the soft flesh, creating red divots close to drawing blood.

“Look at all that I have given you. All of your nice clothes and these fancy internships were because of me. Without me, you’d be freezing to death in that shed you used to live in.” He pulls his hips back and slams his cock back into her dripping cunt, eliciting a cry from her. “I made you who you are.” He cruelly bullies his cock into her, picking up his speed every time her hands weakly try to push him away. “All you have to do is be good for me, and I’ll give you whatever you want.” He forces her to look at him, to stare into her glassy eyes. “Are you going to be good?”

She doesn’t reply, or rather, she can’t. All she could do was strain against him with dark, mascara-stained tears rolling down her cheeks.

Those eyes that once gazed upon him with fondness are now filled with fear.

“Are you going to be good?” He punctuates his words with a hand to her throat, giving it a light squeeze. It’s enough pressure to establish a threat but not enough to take away her ability to breathe.

Her teary eyes blink, and she nods.

“Yes,” She whispers. “I’ll be good.”

“So,” He slows his movements and brings his lips to her ear, warm breath tickling her skin. “What do you say?

Once again, he circles her sensitive clit with his thumb.

She sobs, clenching around him, and he can tell that she’s close to cumming again.

“You’re not going to cum until you answer me.”

“Please, Corio, don’t make me decide. Not right now.”

“I want-” He groans, feeling himself falling close to the edge. “I need an answer.”

She sobs and tries to look away, but the hand on her face won’t let her.

“Please.”

His face moves closer to hers, her hot breath fanning his cheeks.

“I can feel you clenching around me, and I know you can’t hold it in. Give me an answer now.” More tears stream down her face, and she squeezes her eyes shut. “If you cum before giving me an answer, I’ll ruin this pretty cunt.”

There’s a second of silence, save for the sound of his skin slapping against hers before she nods.

“Yes,” she whispers.

“Yes, what?”

“I’ll do it.”

He quickens his pace, chasing after his own pleasure, and she all but screams.

The fire in his burns, ready to overtake him, but something isn’t right.

“Open your eyes.” He demands. “I want you to look at me when I fill you up.”

She blinks her eyes open, all wide and wet, and he’s unable to hold back. Tightening his hold on her, he forces his hips against her own, burying his cock to the hilt and releasing inside of her. She flutters around him, desperate gasps for air falling from her wanting mouth as she cums with him.

They stay in this position, both trying to catch their breath. Coriolanus is the first to pull away, rubbing her thighs to loosen the tired muscles.

She lays there, surrounded by his fluffy white sheets, saying nothing. He gently kisses her cheek, attempting to pull an answer from her, but when it proves unsuccessful, he leaves to draw a bath.

…

“You don’t have class tomorrow, right?”

The question draws her out of her gaze, now realizing she’s curled up in the tub with her knees drawn to her chest. The water is warm, cloudy, almost milky, and smells like roses. She couldn't bear to look at him right now, but she managed to force an answer from her lips.

“No,” she fights the urge to flinch when his fingers brush her hair away from her neck. “It’s my day off.”

“Good.” Coriolanus dips the washcloth in the tub and gently wipes it against her skin. “You’ll come with me to see Dr. Gaul. Bring your portfolio.”

Her body shudders at the thought of meeting the woman, but more notably, knowing that the man she held so much love for was nothing like the man he portrayed himself to be.

She once thought that he was her patron, but the truth was that he was her owner. All of the riches she had gained this past year meant nothing now. They weren’t hers. They were his. He had given her a life of safety where she could flourish and provide for her family, but it was one separated from the world she once knew. Her parents and friends from the fabric shop were replaced by the same obscenely wealthy elite who would have thumbed their nose at her if it weren’t for the proximity to him.

Every gentle brush of his fingers on her skin reminds her of what he’s done to her. How he now owns her.

Her mind falls to a lecture from a year ago. It was about evolution and apex predators. The boa, she remembers, was nonvenomous but deadly, wrapping themselves around their prey, squeezing their bodies until their circulation stopped and their lungs could no longer pull any oxygen. What’s more chilling, she thinks, is that they know to monitor their heartbeat, waiting for their heart to stop before swallowing them whole.

He’s wrapped himself around her, tightening his hold. She knows she can struggle, but he won’t loosen his grip. He’ll just constrict around her, tighter and tighter, until there’s no more room for her to fight—no more room to breathe.

“I’ve been very sweet on you, and I can keep doing that.” He hums. “But, I can be cruel as well. You and I both know I don’t want to do that.”

Finally, she finds the courage to look at him; those blue eyes are now colder than ever.

She tries to whisper, but when he raises a brow, she clears her throat and meekly responds.

“Thank you, Coriolanus. For everything.”

#coriolanus snow #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow fic #coriolanus snow imagine #coriolanus snow x you #dark!coriolanus snow #tbosas #tbosas fic #tbosas fanfiction

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dearsnow · 3 months

Text

SAY IT LIKE YOU MEAN IT (WITH YOUR FISTS FOR ONCE)

- you and bradley had always been attached at the hip until life pulled him away. when you’re finally living in the same place again, your unspoken feelings come to the surface during a san diego bonfire. (bradley “rooster” bradshaw x gn!reader, reader is characterized as someone who doesn’t like much attention, jealousyyyyyyyyy, pining & arguments but fluff at the end, ⚠️ mentions of alcohol / weed)

word count: 2,500

a/n - it’s so entertaining to come up with synonyms for kissing 😭 anyways, enjoy this, and listen to american teenager by ethel cain. oh and i was also so tempted to make the girl mickey in a wig, but i held back.

Bradley Bradshaw likes you. He’d go as far as to say he loves you, if he was being honest. He’s never said it, though, not in that way.

When you first met, he was pulled to you like a magnet. It was preschool, and he never left your side. He made macaroni portraits of you and you crafted tiny little friendship bracelets for him. Neither of you could speak well, or write well, but you stuck together anyways.

Your first written words were each other’s names.

Everything snowballed from there, but he couldn’t say he was mad at it.

You were so entirely different, but that’s what made it good, in his opinion. He always needed eyes on him, not for any pretentious ego-boosting reasons, but because it made him thrive. You tended to hide in the shadows. When you gave your eyes to him, and him to you, it was like the most natural thing in the world.

He was the classic class clown type all throughout middle and high school, with a football jersey and everything. When you came to his games, he swore he played a million times better, and you were happy to indulge in his superstition.

You like him, too. You’d go as far as to say you love him, if you’re being honest. You might’ve said it if he hadn’t been so clearly your platonic life partner. You would follow him, as toddlers, with his shirt edge balled in your small fist. You tried to draw him more times than you could count, but it always looked wrong, like you couldn’t really capture the life that he held so deeply in his eyes. You even considered joining the cheerleading squad for him, but you would’ve cringed under the gaze of the crowd.

When he left for the navy, and for college, and for anything after that, you wished you could bounce across the United States with him. Instead, you wrote him letters; copious amounts of them.

One thing that you both never dared to cross was the bounds of friendship. He would hold your hand, his thumb smoothing over the side of your fist, and there was nothing romantic about it. God, you wished it was, though.

Now that you’ve moved to San Diego, following him one last time, you beg whatever makes the rules to break them just once.

You walk up behind a broad-shouldered man you barely recognize and tap him on the shoulder. “I’m sorry, but I seem to be lost. Could you direct me to a man named Bradley? I believe his call sign is something silly, like ‘duck’.”

He whips around, sunglasses and mustache entirely new to you. He speaks your name in a breathy whisper, like he’s afraid his words will break if he says them too loud. “You’re here? Like actually?”

You’ve barely replied before you’re wrapped in a hug, feet lifted off the ground and body spun around so many times you think you might be sick. “Geez, Brad, put me down!”

He sets you down gently, holding out an arm for stability as you collect your bearings. “Sorry, sorry. I just can’t believe I’m seeing your face after all this time.” You’re even more breathtaking than he remembers.

San Diego has done him well, you reckon. His gold-tinted skin holds a deeper sense of warmth, now, even though he has always run hot. “You better get used to it. I have a fancy new apartment now, so I’m here to stay.”

His face holds a beaming grin, and the whole world falls away. “Thank god, I was beginning to think I’d be stuck here with just my coworkers.” He doesn’t even notice how you look at him with lovesick eyes.

After two months of San Diego, you say the one thing you thought you would never say: “I’m so sick of the sun.”

It’s midday, and you’re prepping for a Fourth of July bonfire party on the beach. The sun is beating down on your back, forcing you to scamper into the ocean every once in a while. Bradley is right beside you, wheeling yet another cooler onto the sand. “If I wasn’t worried about our shit being stolen, I’d suggest we abandon it and let Jake do all the work.”

You laugh. Jake was the one who suggested the whole bonfire, but, of course, he was “too busy” to help set up. You don’t mind doing the work. If it was an opportunity for you to be beside Bradley, you’d do anything. You’d even brave the burning ball of gas in the sky.

As you work, the sun disappears quickly.

By this point, after over two decades of friendship, you’ve lost a bit of that hope that pushed you to follow Brad in the first place. You know he’s attractive, and every woman in the world seems to know it too. What you didn’t know is that you’re pretty damn attractive too. As you’ve told yourself, you prefer to keep the attention off of you.

So, as the sun’s last dying rays scatter over the cooling sand, you pretend not to notice the women ogling your best friend.

The bonfire is great. Amazing, even. The flames reach high into the sky and the smell of smoke permeates the air; everything is cast in this sort of hazy glow, highlighting tanned skin and bright swimsuits. There’s also a woman chatting up Bradley, touching his arm flirtatiously, but you push that to the back of your mind. Instead, you’re focused on the guy in front of you, even when her giggle sends a ball of spikes into your heart.

He’s tall, a little on the skinny side, with tousled black hair and a puka shell necklace. Sand clings to his sandaled feet. He hands you a beer, which you tell yourself you won’t drink much of. You’ve already had a bit too much.

“So, know anyone here?” He asks. He’s eyeing you with a certain ferocity that you don’t notice, his gaze raking up and down your body.

You pop the can open and take a small sip. “Yeah. I know Bradshaw, and the rest by association.” You gesture to Jake and Natasha, who are arguing over a beach volleyball. You almost smile at the way she jabs him in the ribs, making him double over just enough for her to steal what’s so carefully held in his hands. The guy nods.

“I don’t. I’m here for the vibes, y’know?” He takes a step closer, and you notice he smells like smoke and something deeper, like perfumed weed. “And the pretty people.”

You shift in your place. “Have you found what you’re looking for?” You’re almost teasing now, completely missing the hunger in the way he licks his lips. Maybe you’re a little drunk, or maybe you’re just enjoying how someone seems to be giving you the longing looks you so sorely crave. It’s one night, you figure. You won’t ever see him again. What’s wrong with a little good-natured flirting?

“Absolutely.” He murmurs, reaching forward. His hand connects with the back of your neck, his breath cascading over your face, and your eyes flutter shut— before you’re yanked backwards by an arm around your waist.

You stumble. “What the hell?” You curse, colliding with a hard, warm chest. You drop your beer in the sand as you fall back. It’s Bradley, and he looks furious. “Brad, are you kidding me?”

“Come here.” His voice is lethally quiet and sharp as a knife. Your mind is reeling as you follow him a few paces closer to the fire, but a hot pool of anger sits in your stomach.

“Are you being serious right now? What in the world were you thinking?” You hiss. You look up at his tight-lipped face, utterly stoic in the light behind him.

“I’m not letting you kiss that piece of shit.”

“Who are you to decide who I kiss?” You’re so, so mad. So mad you could punch someone, but that would probably hurt you more than the person your fist connects with. Bradley just intervened in the one thing you thought he would never intervene in. You’ve let him swap spit with girls you’ve never seen before, and now he’s over here acting like you kissing one guy is the epitome of nastiness?

He scoffs. “You didn’t even notice, did you? That he was eyeing you like a piece of meat? God, he reeks of weed and swamp ass, too. What were you thinking?”

“I was thinking that I could have the once in a lifetime opportunity to make out with a perfectly attractive guy without someone interrupting.” Your arms are crossed, but you feel a lump forming in your throat. In your mind, that really was a once in a lifetime opportunity. It’s not like you go out of your way to meet people, and the people you’ve met have never even slyly complimented you. You’re not the type that gets dates or drinks sent your way or anything more than platonic. Currently, platonic is staring you in the face with the rage of a thousand suns behind his eyes.

“Make out with Bob or Nat, I don’t care. At least they won’t undress you with their fuckboy blue eyes. Even Bagman is a better choice.”

“You don’t get to decide those things— friends don’t get to decide those things. I mean, I didn’t throw a hissy fit when you were openly flirting with that girl.” In the back of your mind, you know he’s right. You know that your stomach dropped when the guy leaned closer to you, and that your kicked-down self esteem made him out to be a whole lot more attractive than he probably (definitely) was.

Bradley runs a hand through his already slightly messy hair, sighing like he’s regretting ever hitting you with a sand pail in preschool. “I at least get to decide when to save you from creeps and when to leave your love life alone. Trust me, you were in more danger than I ever was.”

“I reiterate, friends don’t get to decide those things.” He can see the insecurity swimming in your beautiful eyes. Yeah, you’re definitely at least somewhat drunk. You’d never argue with him like this if you weren’t. You’re also more than a little mad, and disgusted with yourself, and disappointed with your lack of charisma, and so jealous of the girl he probably tangled tongues with.

“What do I have to be, then, to get it through your thick skull? You know I love you. I’m just looking out for you.” His voice is softer, now, and sweeter, dripping from his mustache like honey.

He reaches out, and you cringe away. Love. It’s a word unspoken, one that’s been lingering on your mind since the day in seventh grade when he suddenly became attractive to you. Like most things, you assume it’s friendly. “Do you really love me if this is what you’re pulling? Say it like you mean it, Bradshaw.”

“I love you.” He states, taking your hands in his. This time, as you try to pull yourself from his grip, he holds on. “I love you.” He says again. It holds a certain weight that gets your heart pounding like a drum in your chest. He’s firm but gentle, and he can feel the years of unspoken feelings bubbling on the tip of his tongue.

That’s when the guy from before decides to approach, sliding a hand uncomfortably down your waist. “I think you interrupted us, dude.”

Bradley drops your hands, and before the man can grab you even lower, he’s getting decked in the face.

He collapses to the ground, clutching his bleeding nose and cursing like a bitch. “Fuck you, what the fuck! Fuckin’ Navy piece of fucking shit.” You raise your hand to your mouth as he scrambles to get away. His blood leaves a scarlet trail of droplets in the sand.

“Bradley…”

“I just want you to be safe.” He mutters, like he didn’t just punch someone in the face for you. “I don’t care if you don’t feel the same way, romantically, but I can’t stand seeing you with guys that aren’t as smart or good-looking as one fraction of your pinky toe.”

You reach up to his jaw, carefully, gingerly, before pressing your lips to his.

Like a scene from a movie, Fourth of July fireworks explode behind you, not unlike the fireworks going off in your mind. He has one hand on your waist and one hand on the back of your head, and neither make you even the slightest bit uncomfortable. It’s Bradley, and he makes you feel like the safest person in the world.

Your lips are soft, so soft. Bradley can practically hear his heart pounding in his ears as his body finally takes in the moment he’s been dreaming about his entire life. When you pull away, he misses the feeling, like the lost puzzle piece of his heart was stolen as soon as it was put back.

“You think my pinky toe is smart and good-looking?” You place a hand on his bare chest, teasing. He gives you the grin you’ve come to adore.

“Every part of you is. That’s why I love you.”

“I love you too. For more than your pinky toe, of course.”

“Oh,” he says, suddenly conscious of the self-satisfied look you shoot her, “y’know that girl I was talking to?” You raise your eyebrows questioningly as he nods his head at her. She sends a little wave, in which you notice a sparkling ring on her finger. “That, my love, is Reuben’s wife.”

You feel your heart sink to your feet as the embarrassment sets in, your cheeks growing warmer than the fire. You mouth a quiet “sorry” at her and she laughs, shooing your apology away with a gentle sweep of her hand.

“Is that why you went after Mr. Broken nose?” Bradley whispers in your ear. “That’s one hell of a way to make me jealous.”

You crinkle your nose as your face flushes impossibly warmer. “Not everything has an ulterior motive, Bradshaw.”

He looks perfect in this lighting, and to him, so do you. You can hardly believe that decades of friendship and tension and wishing led to this slightly improbable moment. You’re honestly glad you almost kissed a stranger.

“Yeah, but you’d best believe I do.”

He takes your hand in his and drops to one knee. Everyone turns to look at him, but for once, the only eyes that matter are yours. “Will you do me the honor of letting me be your lawfully appointed boyfriend?” You smile so wide you think your cheeks might split. You join him in the sand, holding his face in your hands and kissing his cheek.

“You really did mean it, huh, Brad?”

“Is that a yes or a no?”

“Yes. It’s a definite, no-questions-asked, yes.”

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keeterz · 9 months

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Time to make an updated post on the Guilty Gear artwork I've made up to this point!

First things, gotta include Bridget and Elphelt since these were made this year in 2023. Baiken, Testement, and Giovanna were done back in 2022. I think I'd like to do a Jack-O illustration at some point, and a friend of mine wants to help fund a Ramlethal print, so those might be coming up in the future at some point.

I've made some updates to the chibis as well to include a handful of the male cast! A few noteworthy mentions include an Axl that was inspired by an animation that my friend DoovadHohdan made, a Potemkin that works as a Pot Buster when you use it as a sticker on another sticker, as well as the husbandos in general being paired with plushies of their partners (well, missing Nago and Elphelt because that wasn't a thing at the time)

A little after the Elphelt illustration I also made an Elphelt chibi as well! This one will be double-sided once I convert it to a charm~

Finally, a sneak peak at something that isn't Strive related...well, not yet, at least (maybe). Here's a value comp for an ABA illustration I'm working on based on her Accent Core design! Hoping she makes it into Strive at some point.

I might want to explore doing some Accent Core related artwork in the future. Accent Core is a lot closer to the point of when I first got into the series in my middle school/highschool days, and there are some designs from the older games that are still hecking rad. Plus the music is awesome :D

It's kind of funny; I have to confess that I actually don't play Strive. Truth be told, the GGST movement and limited combo structure never clicked with me when the game first came out (and I was always more of a 3D fighter guy for gameplay with games like Tekken and Soul Calibur). And even though I am pretty sure I would actually thoroughly enjoy playing I-No and Elphelt with the season 3 changes, I just don't really do as much gaming these days since I'm more enamored with making art (and a few other things like biking). Plus I'm kind of just waiting for Tekken 8 at this point (dear god I hope the online is good just this one time god).

But as an artist? You bet your butt I hecking love coming back to Guilty Gear. I've been a fan of the series since the early 2000s (back when I stumbled across an abandonware PC version of Guilty Gear X and became sold on the series). The characters from this series check a lot of boxes for things I love to draw, from the way they are designed and all of their classic rock references all the way down to their zany personalities and backstories. And I feel like Guilty Gear is really special in this regard for me. Even though I'd rather play other fighting games (like Tekken or maybe even SF6), Guilty Gear is probably the one fighting game fandom I want to do art of the most.

If you are a Guilty Gear fan stumbling across this art collection post, hope you are enjoying the art! I will enjoy the series vicariously through you as I get back to working on some Tekken 8 artwork for Frosty Faustings, lmao. And if you're someone who is new to the series, give Strive a try! It's neat and the characters are great.

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flippinpancakes64 · 1 month

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Could you do the cullens with a mate who is a painter?

The Cullens with a Painter! Reader

I haven’t painted in YEARS omg, I moved to using my iPad a couple of years ago but I still remember the basics so here we go

Thank you for requesting and I hope you enjoy!

Edward:

He’s also an artistic person

So he understands what drives you to create

His favorite thing to do is to play the piano while you paint

It just makes him feel so warm inside

He loves watching you paint as well

It’s so fascinating to watch what you see in your mind and then as you translate it onto the canvas

And he loves your artwork

He hangs it up all over the walls in his room

Genuinely thinks you should enter in a contest

Alice:

She loves your artwork so much

It’s so fascinating to her how you can just conjure up something so amazing

She also loves to buy you new paints and canvases

Every time she’s out buying new clothes or something she sees a new paint and she’s like “ooh that color’s pretty”

Keeps every single thing you make for her

Loves watching you work

She doesn’t care if she’s being creepy

She just loves you and wants to hang out

Jasper:

He’s fascinated and enamored by your emotional state when you work

He loves when you paint faces because your mind flickers to whatever emotion you’re trying to convey on the paper

It’s a very interactive experience for him

He almost likes tuning in to your mind more than your actual artwork

But he does obviously love your paintings

He does whatever you want him to

You need a life model? Well it’s a good thing he can stay still for hours

Want more paint? He already has his car keys in his hand

Rosalie:

She used to be really into painting and drawing

But she always thought she was bad at it so she just stopped

So when you come around she falls in love with it again

She wants you to teach her everything

She’s always hard on herself

She thinks her stuff is never as good as yours

But she loves painting with you

She can almost overlook her own hatred for her artwork

And yes she hangs up everything that you make in her garage

Emmett:

I don’t think he’s a very artsy person

Unless you want to call the fact that he can gut and skin a bear in less than 30 seconds an art form

But he can appreciate good art

So when he sees some of your paintings for the first time he is blown away

“You made these? Like actually? That’s so fucking sick”

Proudly displays anything you give him

You doodled on a paper during school and he stuck it in the front pocket of his binder

And he tells everyone who asks exactly where it came from

Esme:

She’s a painter

I don’t make the rules I just follow them

All of the artwork currently hanging up in the Cullen house is her work

And yes she’s very proud of the grad cap piece

So she is so excited when she finds out you also love to paint

Two peas in a pod

Painting dates are a must

And she is more than happy to take down some of her stuff to make room for yours

You don’t even need to ask

Carlisle:

I feel like he’s a jack of all trades

He’s been around long enough I sure hope he knows how to do everything at least a little bit

But he’s nowhere near as good as you

He’s so proud that his SO is such a talented artist

He convinces the clinic to hang up a couple of your pieces in the boring exam rooms

People compliment them all the time and he tells them exactly who made them

Don’t ever worry about buying art supplies ever again btw

Vampire! Bella:

I don’t remember if she ever drew during the books or movies, but she just screams art kid to me

She had a phase in middle school, thought she sucked so she stopped

So she’s astonished when she sees what you make

“I couldn’t make that even if Van Gogh himself taught me”

She loves watching you work

It’s so calming to her

If she could sleep, she would fall asleep watching you

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bigfootsboytoy · 1 year

Text

A lot of people love to talk about teacher!Steve and I've seen people speculate about him teaching History, or English or Gym. But hear me out...Art Teacher.

Steve Harrington, who took art as an elective in highschool thinking it would be an easy grade, but who ends up actually really enjoying it. He likes the satisfaction of making something and the methodical process of doing it. Later in life he knows he wants to work with kids, but he doesn't think he would be happy trying to teach any of the core subjects like math or English, he never cared for them much himself, and even the classes he liked he wasn't super skilled in. Then he thinks back to that art class, remembers how much he enjoyed himself, and he finds himself taking classes towards a teaching degree a few months later.

After a while, Steve finds himself with a job teaching art at a local middle school. He loves it. He loves working with the kids, even though most of them are little assholes. Apparently, that isn't unique to the party. All young kids are kind of assholes. But they're also funny, and they put thought into the projects he gives them. He always gives them a lot of wiggle-room creatively, giving assignments that focus on certain techniques like painting or working with clay, but allowing them to choose the subject matter themselves. He works alongside them, making his own little projects. He isn't VanGogh by any means, but he kind of likes that. It helps show his students that they can have fun with the art and really make something they can be proud of without worrying about it being perfect or looking like something they would see in a museum. His students adore him. They tease him and make fun of him, but at the end of the day, almost every student who takes his class ends up raving about it to their friends. Parents he meets on occasion love him too. And only partially because he looks hot as hell with his glasses and his paint-stained apron.

At the end of a project, he has everyone go around and talk about what they made. He isn't picky. They can talk about their favorite part of making it, the story behind it, why they chose certain colors, and parts they struggled with. Any little bit of extra information about the project is enough to get the points. He wasn't expecting them to rope him into it when he first started. Now, he fully expects the questions they ask whenever he shows off a project with them.

The first project is charcoal drawings, and Steve draws a weird looking bat with a crazy mouth and no eyes. He tells the class that a bunch of his family play DND, and they have really vivid imaginations. It isn't a lie.

Next they do sand-art and Steve makes a set of patterns comprised of bright, vivid colors. Oranges and pinks and greens. He tells the class it represents his best friend, who is one of his favorite people in the world. A week later he tells the class that he showed her the sand art and she declared it the ugliest thing she had ever seen, then proceeded to hang it in her room with a bright smile on her face.

During the sculpting unit, he makes a homemade mug, with little fish carved on the side. He tells the class his father-in-law collects mugs, and this one is going to be a birthday gift.

The class seemed to like sculpting, so he does a unit on wire-art. He makes a small wire guitar and a wire ring. The class ask, with shit eating grins, if he's got somebody he's planning on proposing to. He happily tells them he already proposed, this ring is just for fun, since his partner loves to wear them.

Steve's small apartment fills up over the years with tons of art projects gifted to him by his students, paintings and drawings hanging on the walls, and a whole bookshelf dedicated to the 3D work. He remembers that first part class he took sometimes, back when he was just a sad kid who's friends were all assholes, he was a bit of an asshole himself, who didn't know that horrible things existed just under his feet. He thinks back on it fondly enough, but he couldn't be happier that he isn't that kid anymore. He's pretty damn pleased being the teacher now.

#steve harrington #teacher steve harrington #art teacher #art teacher steve #my beloved #implied steddie #steddie #stranger things #eddie munson #robin buckley #wayne munson #stranger things 4 #ficlet

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dinasfavslut · 1 year

Text

LoserEllie x Fem!reader

a/n: This fic was supposed to come out in late August or early September, so I am a month late, and I'm sorry. I hope you enjoy it since I've spent a while on this (I started writing and never finished).

Warnings:smut 18+ Minors just dont interact, Smoking, Sexual thoughts, Cussing, Pet names, Teasing, Oral, Fingering, Slight mention of strap, Squirting

Everyone is aware that Ellie smokes; we have all seen it. Of course, there are also the dealer Ellie fics, which I absolutely love, but just picture Ellie making reader squirt for the first time while high!

Ellie calls you over for the "usual" hangout of smoking, fighting while playing the latest video game she purchased, exchanging lust-filled glances at each other, and taking turns going to the restroom to deal with your neediness so you don't pounce on one another. The typical predicament continues.

"Okay, how about a crash bandicoot?”

She places the joint between her soft pink lips and says, "I mean, it's whatever." Her fingers, god, her fingers, her hands, and how she flexes them after spending long hours writing or drawing, playing the guitar, rolling blunts and joints—you could go on and on...and on—is almost down to her fingers when she takes another drag.

You two have long been "friends." Everyone in town knows that you and Ellie are more than "just friends", but as far as the relationship goes, it isn't dating or just a friendship, and that kills you. You like Ellie; you really like her, and smoking enhances that feeling toward her. Additionally, it also helps to want to get pounded by her right on the couch.

She had already loaded the game and begun playing while you were still deep in thought. She was so engrossed in her game that you could see her thumbs and fingers pressing and moving the various buttons. "I'm going to get a snack, Els. You want something." She gave a brief glance over, not straining her head from facing the TV. Her gaze seemed to remain fixed on your body as you stood up, pressing your thighs together as you did so.

"Yeah..." You entered the kitchen in search of a bite to quell your hunger. You discovered cookies, popcorn, Cheezits, and wet wipes after searching the cabinets. Why were wet wipes kept in the snack cabinet?

“Ellie?” You gave her a concerned-confused look as she held up the wipes.

“What?” She looked at you, and you just waved around the wipes.

"Uh, well, keep the ants away.”

“Where the fuck did you hear that?”

“I read it or something somewhere... But that isn't a snack, bubs.” Obviously, the wet wipes weren't a snack. You walk over to her and straddle her lap.

"I'm not going to make you eat the wet wipes." Your thoughts had returned to what had just been said a few moments prior: "Wait, Ellie Williams, do you have ants!?" She gave you a dumbfounded look like a middle school boy who had just been scolded. "You have ants when you were about to let us eat food from your cupboard?"

"Calm down, baby. The wet wipes carried out their duties."

"And how do you know that?"

"I didnt hear any screaming that you saw an ant," she said. She shifted into a new position, pushing her hips a up little higher. You noticed this bump or something rigid. None of those properly expresses what you felt. The bulge in her pants was pressing directly on your clit while you were seated on Ellie's lap. You were soaked through, which was unfortunate for you. You were wet before, of course, but now it was leaking through.

Ellie picked you up and set you down next to her, but she quickly noticed the mess you had made beneath yourself. "You, um, do you need any help with..." you nodded quickly in order to get to you something you have been waiting ages for while also stopping her from finishing her sentence she laid you down in front of her, lifted up your skirt to let it rest on your torso, and pulled off the green underwear you had chosen to wear that day, which of course would need to be washed. "Just relax for me; it is okay, I’l make it feel good, promise". You trusted her i mean why wouldnt you- your trusted ellie with yourself at least, so when she kept kissing the inside of your thighs, you didn't question, but you did whine.

“Els please”

"Right, I'm sorry." She gave you her silly little smile before returning to her task at hand. Her lips were almost immediately attached to your clit. You whimpered and gasped loudly from her movements. The effects of the weed haven't faded quite yet, making all of Ellie's movements feel 10 times better, but let's be real, it's Ellie fucking Williams, and you've been wainting for this forever.

“E-el-” She slid her agile, calloused fingers into your cunt, causing you to let out an exasperated gasp, followed by a loud moan. You tilted your head forward to see her face. Her eyes were stuck to the way you just kept dripping and how her fingers were being swallowed up so easily.

“Ive got you, babe. Lay back for me. Can you do that for me, pretty girl?" Responding to her request, you nod and lay down. The pace of her fingers quickens, and she hits a spot that makes your head feel light and your tummy coil.

"Els, please." Ellies, ignoring your pleads, having lust take over. Completely, you feel yourself about to let go at any minute, any second, but it's not like all the times you've fingered yourself to the thought of her before. Ellie's mouth on your clit, her fingers thrusting out of you, you moan louder than you even knew your voice could handle. She continued quickening her pace until she drained everything out of you. You “came” all over her hands, face, and couch. She pulled her head back and paused for a moment. “I-I am so sorry, I didn't mean.”

She places her finger over your mouth to hush your apologies. "It's alright, angel; I know you couldn't help it.” You were embarrassed by your actions, but somehow, even though she had a big mess that she had to clean up, her reassuring words made everything fine. She leans right over you and places a kiss on your lips. “I think I'm in love with you. Actually, I know that I'm in love with you. I love you, bubs.”

"I love you too Els."

#the last of us 2 #ellie williams #ellie williams fic #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams tlou #ellie williams smut #ellie tlou #the last of us ellie #the last of us smut #tlou part 2

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wrtingsoftheunknown · 7 months

Text

Vincent Sinclair HC

Vincent Sinclair hc SFW and NSFW

I’ve haven’t been seeing my boy get repped recently so I have to do it myself. My first time writing something on here or towards this character ,I promise I will get better y'al,l I made this super quickly not proofread oops.

SFW

-While he can be insecure about his face he definitely has an ego from being the favorite child and having perfected his craft.

Lester drags him out to go for a ride around town or force him to come to his place for some quality brother time (Bo joins every now and then but wants peace and quiet dammit )

‘I know a lot of people have him learn sign language but I think he either writes what he wants to say, speaks as best as he can, or gestures, ( he was born in the south to parents that I don't think cared about communicating with him too much but he could have picked it up later in life maybe in his teen years or middle school era)

More sadistic than Bo when it comes to killing, he doesn't care if they are dead or alive when working on them and takes satisfaction in the result of his work

He prefers to work in silence but you can catch him humming now and then some country song or a guilty pleasure pop song from the 80’s( I see you Vince)

I think he partakes in multiple forms of art besides wax work.We see he’s able to paint, draw, but he also takes pictures, , sews, writes, makes videos, anything artistic he’s learning and keeping up with new techniques.

Since he takes video of the killings at times I think they sell them as snuff films to make extra cash on top of stealing and selling victims stuff. (At least that’s what I thought when I first watched the film anyone else or just me)

Rarely happens but will keep victims that interest him like Bo ,but dispose of them when they get boring or no longer match up the ideal version of them in his head.

-Does want a lifelong partner, the white wedding and picket fence, kids, but knows it might be difficult with the line of work he does.

- He can talk but only does when it’s important or to emphasize something. He does have a southern draw like Bo and I imagine his voice to sound similar but raspier, maybe deeper/ quieter from not using it as much.

-like I said earlier you have to really catch his attention and be able to hold it for more than a week, if that happens then he’s obsessed and protective maybe a little too over protective.

Does indeed have a hair care routine I believe this full throttle and no one can can tell me otherwise I'm not listening.

NSFW

I don't know if he’s a virgin, I don't think he is something is telling me he isn't, but i’m not sure

He has no problem with nudity, bodies are seen as art, there's not as much of a sexual connotation with them as with Bo and Lester .

He wants to be in love with the person he is intimate with, he wants to be worship and worship his muse.

Drawings of his partner naked as well as in the midst of a passionate night, he might tease them all night to make sure the sketch is as life like and accurate as possible

Good size and thick that's all I gotta say

Praise kink hard core, hearing his partner call him a good boy or how he makes them feel so good he will crumble

He starts slow and sensual, enjoys the control he has and having someone at his power.

I think he will edge you and leave you high and dry when you act out but he always caves by the end of the day and gives you what you need.

Can last a long time surprisingly

Mainly a giver but someone please for the love of god give this man the nastiest had he’s ever received will make the prettiest noises

Is down to try anything new and more open about sex than you would think.

When he’s horny he comes up behind his partner and starts caressing every inch he can reach, while resting his chin on their shoulder acting as innocent as he can.

#vincent sinclair #house of wax #vincent sinclair x reader #headcanon #horror #masked men #country man #bo sinclair #lester sinclair #x reader

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ediewentmissing · 1 year

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some of my eddie munson headcanons

1. loves liquorice.

i know a lot of you guys probably HATE liquorice, but something about him screams ‘i am a liquorice lover and proud of it!!’. and he doesn’t like the strawberry kind.

2. races to press the button in the elevator

“MOVE OUT OF THE WAY, YOU LITTLE SHIT!” “EDDIE, IT’S MY TURN!”

3. was rlly short before he hit puberty

eddie has obviously been subjected to a hell of a lot of bullying over the years, and just to add to that pile of angst, we have the idea of short eddie. gareth went through the same thing, except he didn’t grow as much. “how’s the weather down there, munson?” “fuck off, tommy.”

4. he’s either really hot or really cold

he’s wearing 3 layers half the time, and as little clothing as he can the other half. freezes during winter and sweats his ass off during the summer.

5. gets sensitive teeth

this is because he’s made himself eat a basket worth of lemons just to brag about it later on multiple occasions

6. enjoys watching b movies

those shitty low budget films? oh, yeah. eddie loves them. for one reason; he cackles the whole time over how crap they are. a great pick-me-up.

7. chews on things when he spaces out

the inside of his cheek, his lip, a pencil, and you can’t forget that one time he chewed on a pen for so long that all the ink spilled into his mouth and he was gagging in the middle of class

8. had a major crush on princess daphne from dragon’s lair

definitely fought over her with his friends. he was incredibly jealous of dirk the daring.

9. doesn’t like trying new foods

he’s attached to foods from when he was a kid (macaroni and cheese, cereal, mini pizzas, grilled cheese, and dishes from his mum) and refuses to branch out - unless you ask him to

10. swears he only listens to metal, but doesn’t

he wants to keep his ‘scary ‘music’ reputation, but it’s hard to do that when robin finds eddie’s abba and wham! tapes tucked away in his room

“i thought you were a, and i quote, ‘strictly metal-only’ guy, but i guess you were just a big pop fan this whole time” “quit it, robin”

he also doesn’t mind the country music wayne forced onto him when he was younger

11. twirls the phone cord around his finger

when he’s talking to you over the phone, you swear you can picture him clear as day; big sly grin plastered on his face, and his ringed finger wiring around the phone cord connected to the wall

12. graffitis

but only in the school bathroom cubicles and the hideout bathroom cubicles. occasionally you’ll go to one of his gigs, and then you’ll go to the toilet and there’ll be little drawings on the wall. a guitar, eddie the head, and the occasional shameless penis

13. used to ride bikes everywhere

USED to because he fell over while riding it when he was 9 and scraped his knee and declared he would never ride a bicycle again (thought that declaration broke in 1986)

14. loves roller coasters

specifically ones that take pictures of you - he loves to act all calm and collected while everyone else is screaming their heads off

“eddie, this is a terrible photo” “no, it’s a terrible photo of YOU. you look like you’ve shit yourself, and i look cool as ice”

15. thought babies hatched out of eggs

safe to say that when he learnt how babies are REALLY made, he was flabbergasted and very, very grossed out

#eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson angst #eddie smut #stranger things headcanons #eddie headcanons #eddie munson headcanons #headcanon

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hunnysnoops · 2 months

Text

˗ˋ𝕎𝕙𝕚𝕥𝕖 𝕋𝕖𝕖𝕥𝕙 𝕋𝕖𝕖𝕟𝕤ˊ˗

Chapter Thirteen: Circles

Kyle Broflovski x fem reader

You took my hand and then we both started running. There's no place to go.

Also available on Ao3 and Wattpad!

Premise: While you’re enjoying your new relationship with your boyfriend, it doesn’t come without its troubles

Warnings: smoking / suggestive

MASTERLIST

Walking through the crowded school hallway, you and Bebe laugh about the latest gossip circulating through the breath of students. The morning sun filters through the windows, casting a warm glow on the bustling students. Bebe tugs at your sleeve, pulling you closer as she recounts in detail each beat of how Dakota cheated on David.

You spent the whole summer anticipating the fall when you would be back in classes and bending over backwards to keep your grades up but now that it had finally rolled around, you missed summer and swore that you would be forever happy if it had been endless.

As you pass the lockers, you spot Kyle leaning against his, scrolling through his phone. Your heart skips a beat. It's been a couple months since you and Kyle started dating in secret, keeping your relationship hidden from friends and family. You liked to think you had kept the secret well, you had always been sneaky. It was your family you were worried about finding out, however, your friends have extremely large mouths a not a single thought they keep to themselves.

Bebe continues chatting away, unaware of your sudden distraction. You slow your pace, letting her words fade into the background as you focus on Kyle. When he looks up and catches your eye, a smile spreads across his face and that is enough to melt you like butter.

You glance at Bebe, who's now frowning and looking between you and Kyle with a puzzled expression.

"Hey, pretty princess," You say casually to Kyle, watching his smile drop immediately.

"What did you just say?" His eyebrows furrow and he's sure that he misheard you. He closes out of Hay Day momentarily to give his full attention to you.

"I said 'Hey, pretty princess',"

"Don't call me that," Kyle tells you with a straight face. You were well aware of how much pet names made him want to crawl out from under his skin and chug back drain cleaner. The most you had ever gotten out of him was the lone time he called you babe and immediately went back on it.

Your boyfriend telling you that pet names were annoying was a sure-fire way to make sure you call him every possible one you can think of "Okay, baby girl,"

As you walk past him with Bebe and towards that cafeteria you can feel his horrified gaze resting on your back. Moments later you can feel your phone buzz in your pocket.

New Message- ugly piece of shit (boyfriend❤️)

ugly piece of shit (boyfriend❤️): You're not funny

You: damn

ugly piece of shit (boyfriend❤️): I thought you didn't want your friends to know??

You: Yeah?

ugly piece of shit (boyfriend❤️): so why are you flirting at school?

You: u think that's flirting????????????????

You: Who the hell raised u??????

ugly piece of shit (boyfriend❤️): bro

You: lose this number

ugly piece of shit (boyfriend❤️): lmao

You: mf I see you down the hall

You: u r not laughing ur ass off

ugly piece of shit (boyfriend❤️): bro

read at 12:47

You glance back at Kyle and quickly stick up your middle finger even though he is now focused on his conversation with Stan. The two of you weave through the throngs of students, sidestepping backpacks carelessly left in the middle of the hallway and dodging the occasional elbow. The walls are plastered with colourful posters announcing upcoming events: a pep rally, a bake sale, and field hockey tryouts.

Bebe's voice rises above the din, drawing your attention back to her. She's talking about a new show she started watching, her excitement palpable. You smile, appreciating the way she can make even the most mundane topics seem fascinating. Her laughter rings out, a clear, bright sound that makes a few heads turn, but she doesn't seem to notice and if she had, she definitely didn't care.

"I swear to god, he looked like such an idiot," Bebe speaks animatedly "I think he's trying to go viral or something but he would only go viral for being so corny."

"Yeah?" You feed into the rant.

"Yeah," She confirms "He stood on his desk today and made Emmet film him while he yelled something in some language I don't know. Seriously, I don't think I've ever seen Mrs. Miller so mad." Her face lights up with recollection "Oh! Except for that time, Eric brought a flask into class. That was so weird."

As you near the cafeteria doors, the noise level increases. The cacophony of clattering trays raised voices, and the occasional shout creates a symphony of chaos that somehow feels comforting in its familiarity. You push through the double doors, the cool air from the cafeteria's industrial-strength air conditioning hitting you like a refreshing breeze.

Inside, the room is a sea of faces, some familiar, some not. You scan the room briefly, looking for a free table. Bebe tugs at your sleeve, pointing towards a spot where a little handful of your friends are sitting. You follow her lead, navigating through the maze of tables and chairs, finally reaching your destination.

The moment you sit down, Annie perks up "Did you hear about Dakota and David?"

"Yes!" Bebe almost jolts up, she leans toward Annie while you reach next to you and take a tater tot from Nichole's tray, if she was bothered by this act, she gave no indication. You weren't sure you were hungry enough to wait in the lunch line for subpar food that would be cold by the time to got back to the table.

Across the table, Red had a slice of pizza in one hand, her phone in the other, she didn't even look up when you sat down. She tended to have one foot in the real world and the other in her own realm.

"So, what's everyone doing this weekend?" Nichole asks, a small smile playing on her lips.

Before you can answer, Red casually says "Well, I'm sure she'll be hanging out with Kyle."

"Jeez, I feel like he's replacing me," Bebe mockingly pouts.

"Yeah, why are you guys so buddy-buddy lately?" Annie turns not just her attention to you but the rest of the group in addition.

"Because they're dating," Red still doesn't look up from her phone. While the group falls silent, she huffs a quiet chuckle at something in her feed.

You feel the air go still, the background noise fading into a dull hum as all eyes turn to you. Your heart pounds, and your mind races, desperately seeking an escape.

Bebe's eyebrows shoot up. "Kyle? You and Kyle are a thing?"

You force a laugh, shaking your head vigorously. "No, no, Red's just joking around."

Nichole leans in, her eyebrows drawn in skepticism. "I dunno, that didn't sound like a joke."

"Red, who told you that?" You look up at her with wide eyes, teeth grinding together in a wild smile that was supposed to mask the agitation that sparked in you.

"Tolkien, he said that Kyle told him after you guys kissed."

"What?" Nichole's eyes flicker between everyone at the table, trying to get a grasp on each girl's reaction.

"You didn't tell me," Bebe says, irritation clear in her voice. You knew this would be a topic she would dangle over your head.

"You didn't tell me either," Annie chimes in.

"Uh, because I'm not dating him," You can feel the panic rising, your cheeks burning with the effort to maintain your composure. "Seriously, guys, it's nothing. Kyle and I are just friends."

Bebe crosses her arms. "Friends, huh? I'm pretty sure friends don't usually kiss."

"I have kissed half of the people at this table," You counter "On gospel, we are not dating."

"You don't give a shit about the gospel. Let me see your phone," Annie snatches it from your hands, expecting to see Kyle on the lock screen but her face quickly contorts in confusion "Is that Jeff Bezos?"

With haste, you grab it from her "No, it's Murr from impractical jokers."

"Why is he your lock screen?"

"Mind your damn business," You answer with discomposure.

"So, you aren't dating but you did kiss him?" Nichole draws the conversation back to the original topic.

"Erm, no, gross," You say as convincingly as you could which wasn't very convincing at all. "I think he's super fucking ugly, he probably has at least two STDs."

“Bull shit," Bebe says "You didn't deny kissing him like three seconds ago and you've liked him since July."

"JULY?" Annie asks, mouth slightly agape. "You didn't tell me any of this."

"So when did you kiss him?" Nichole presses.

"I didn't-

"She kissed him at Morgan's party," Red answers, putting her phone down and swallowing back the last of her crust.

You have a look of murder on your face "What the fuck."

"It's not a big deal," She shrugs "Someone once told me- eat a snack and drink some juice, you'll be alright."

"Who?" You ask.

"You did when I greened out."

"Right."

"So you did kiss him at Morgan's and you are dating?" Nichole interjects once again to cut to the facts rather than the banter surrounding it.

For a moment you hang in the air like you had paused time to think of an answer but truthfully your friends finding out about your relationship wasn't so detrimental and lying would only spiral into something far worse. "Yeah," You mutter "We're dating."

"Oh my god," Nichole splits into a grin "After all of those years of trying to kill him and complaining non-stop that he was ruining your life?"

"Yup," you say, awkwardly.

"That's really funny actually," Bebe's anger over the fact you kept this hidden was temporarily alleviated by your confirmation.

"Funny?" You ask. You didn't think your relationship was very funny.

"You have to admit it's funny," She shrugs, brushing a blonde curl away from her face "I was like 78% sure you were serious when you said you rather hang yourself than date him."

Nichole giggles, nudging you. "Was the rope too expensive?"

"No, I tried my best but it snapped," You say nonchalantly, trying to gain back some sort of composure.

It didn't take long for the little group to start shouting little quips to counter the last and ultimately leave you feeling annoyed and somewhat embarrassed as it seemed they would never let up with the teasing.

You catch a glimpse of Tolkien walking past your table, his usual confident stride carrying him through the crowded cafeteria. He was carrying an assortment of goodies from the vending machine and heading back to his table. It must've been irritation that propelled you out of your seat before you even realized what you were doing.

You weave through the tables, your steps quick and purposeful, until you're close enough to grab his arm. He turns, surprised, his eyes wide as he takes in your furious expression.

"Why did you tell Red I kissed Kyle?" you hiss, your voice low but sharp enough to cut through the noise. You pull him aside, away from prying eyes and ears, and the hum of the cafeteria fades into the background.

His eyebrows furrow "Are you guys not dating? I'm confused."

"Yeah, but I wasn't going to tell people."

"What? Why?"

"Because the haters will pray on my downfall." you snap, your voice rising despite your efforts to keep it down.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" He glances around nervously, clearly uncomfortable with your intensity.

"The haters," You reiterate like it made your point any clearer.

"What haters? You're not a celebrity." One of the mini chip bags in his arms shifts and he fumbles around to be sure it doesn't hit the ground.

"Be alert..."

"What does that mean?"

"Of the haters," You add.

"Oh my god," He mutters fighting the urge to roll his eyes "I don't know why you're chewing me out when Kyle's the one who told me. Take it up with him.”

That's exactly what you would do. Take it up with him.

.˙꩜°˖:*࿔ ☼ ࿔*:˖°꩜˙.

While you had every intention of chewing Kyle out for letting the secret slip, things played out slightly differently. You're sprawled out on your bed, your textbooks and notes abandoned in a haphazard pile. Kyle's fingers trail up your arm, leaving a tingling path in their wake. His lips are warm and insistent against yours, and you lose yourself in the softness of his kiss.

Kyle's hand cradles the back of your neck, his touch both tender and firm, guiding you closer. Your hands are tangled in his hair, the soft strands slipping through your fingers as you pull him even nearer. The faint scent of his cologne mixes with the aroma of the burning passionfruit candle, creating a heady blend that makes your heart race. Every brush of his lips sends sparks through you, and you can feel the warmth of his breath on your skin.

All that matters is the feel of Kyle's lips on yours, the way his hands hold you as if you're something precious, something to be cherished. His thumb brushes lightly against your jaw, a small, almost absent-minded gesture that sends another shiver through you. Every touch, every kiss, is filled with reverence that makes you feel all the more cherished.

You tilt your head slightly, deepening the kiss, your tongue tentatively meeting his. Kyle responds with a soft groan, a sound that reverberates through your body, heightening your senses. His hand tightens on your waist, pulling you even closer as if he can't get enough of you.

Your kisses grow more urgent and demanding. His lips trail from your mouth to your jawline, planting soft, lingering kisses along your skin. You can't help but tilt your head back, giving him better access, losing yourself in the sensation of his mouth on your skin.

His kisses move to your neck, and you feel the warmth of his breath against your skin, sending another wave of shivers through you. He finds a particularly sensitive spot just below your ear, and when his lips brush against it, you let out a soft gasp, your fingers tightening in his hair.

"Kyle," you whisper, your voice breathless, filled with a mixture of need and adoration.

He pulls back slightly, his eyes meeting yours, and the intensity in his gaze makes your heart skip a beat. His hair is a mess, neck is littered with hickies that he would surely regret the next day when he would have to steal his mom's concealer to cover them up. He leans in, capturing your lips once more in a kiss that is both tender and passionate, a perfect blend that leaves you almost dizzy.

His large hands eventually snake their way up your shirt and trail up your midriff to your back. He finds the clasp on your back, pinching the hooks until the bra comes undone completely.

Kyle leans closer, his fingers brushing a stray hair from your face, and the touch sends a shiver down your spine. You want to freeze this moment, but reality crashes back in when you hear your dad's voice calling for you from the hallway. "Jellybean! Are you still home?" Panic seizes you, and your eyes widen as you scramble to sit up, pushing Kyle away from you.

Your dad was supposed to be at one of your neighbour's barbecues, but here he was- making his way upstairs and towards your bedroom.

"Kyle, hide!" you whisper urgently, your mind racing for a solution.

You glance around, jumping to your feet and awkwardly trying to rehook your bra. Your eyes settle on the closet and you push him towards it. It's a tight squeeze for someone as tall as Kyle, but there's no time to think. He ducks inside, and just as you're about to close the door, he accidentally bonks his head against the top of the frame. The sound is a dull thud, and he stifles a groan of pain.

"Yeah, I'm home!" You call back to your dad, grabbing Kyle's scattered things from the bed and shoving them beneath it.

Your dad's footsteps draw closer, and you throw yourself back onto the bed, grabbing your phone to feign nonchalance. The door creaks open, and your dad peeks in, his eyes scanning the room.

"Hey, Jellybean," He smiles, leaning against the doorway.

"Hey," You try for a casual smile "Why are you home already?"

"I forgot to grab the t-shirts I made for Earl and the boys," He answers and you nod slowly, waiting for him to explain why he was in your bedroom. “Oh," He fumbles around in his pocket for his phone and briefly taps around before turning the screen to face you "Is this you and Kyle?"

It's a photo of both yours and Kyle's faces that had been strung up on the wall of disallowed entry at the movie theatre. You had almost forgotten entirely of the day that you and he had gone to the theatre with the intention of watching a corny movie and ended up near a simple assault charge that you narrowly escaped.

You shake your head, trying to soothe the adrenaline that began pumping through you "Nope."

"Really?" Your dad furrows his eyebrows, looking at the picture again "It looks just like you two."

"Yeah, it does," You keep your voice as nonchalant as possible.

He holds the phone up in the air, looking back and forth from your face to the screen. After a moment of awkward silence, there's a thump from the closet and your dad looks up "What was that?"

"Eugene, he lives in the crawlspace," You answer, face dead serious.

Your dad shrugs and tucks his phone back into his pocket. "Dang. I outta get back before that brisket is done," He lets out a low whistle at the thought of a juicy slab of smoked meat.

"Okay, see ya," Relief finally washes over you as you try not to glance back toward the closet.

Just as he turns to leave he quickly swivels his head back to look at you "Oh, I meant to ask- why is Kyle's car in the driveway?"

"It's not."

"Oh," His eyebrows furrow for a moment as he thinks and then slowly, he nods "Okay." It was moments like these where it was definite he was Weston's father.

He leaves, and you let out a sigh of relief, your heart still pounding. You wait a few moments to make sure he's really gone and when you hear the front door click shut, you hurry over to the closet and open the door. Kyle steps out, rubbing his head where he must have bonked it on the closet ceiling. He's tall enough that the cramped space was clearly a tight fit.

You look at the little red spot on his hairline where he must've cracked his head against the frame and suck a breath through your teeth "Sorry."

"Ow," he mutters, frowning at you slightly. But then his eyes catch on something behind him, and his expression shifts from annoyed to confused. "Why do you have a Rubbermaid that says 'devious licks' in your closet?"

"Oh," You look past him at the bin and then a wide smile breaks over your face and you begin to laugh. You pull the bin out and kneel beside it as you take the lid off. Inside are little trinkets you've 'borrowed' from friends and family over the past few years. You can't help but giggle, finding the whole situation absurdly funny.

"Did you steal all of that?"

"It's just for fun," you say with a shrug, still chuckling. "When I get really mad at someone, I take something from them to inconvenience them." You begin to rifle through the bin, almost reminiscing about all of the things you had taken and the memories attached.

But Kyle doesn't laugh. In fact, his frown deepens, and he steps back, shaking his head. "That's not funny. It's stealing. That's a crime. What if someone realizes something important is missing?"

"That's kinda the point," You answer. The bin is filled with an assortment of items: a handful of pens, a couple of keychains, wallets, a pair of sunglasses, and various other small objects you've filched over time from more people than you could even recall.

Kyle bends down, his hair still messy from your fingers slipping through it "What is this?" He picks up a long silver necklace with a large pendant dangling from the bottom "Is this a coke necklace?"

You laugh slightly "Those are Mr. Tennorman's ashes."

"WHAT?" He drops it, instinctively wiping his hands on his pants. "You stole someone's ashes?"

"Yup," You say nonchalantly, still digging through the belongings "It's just Cartman's dad."

He looks back down, the glimmer of something bronze catching his eye. Immediately, he snatches it from the bin and inspects it, eyes growing wide with horror "Is this my grandpa's holocaust ring?"

You pause, slowly looking up at him "I didn't know it was a holocaust ring at the time."

"When did you take this?" His voice was beginning to rise and the agitation was unmissable.

You stop laughing, the light mood evaporating in an instant. You hadn't expected him to react like this. You thought he might find it as amusing as you did. Instead, he's staring at you with a mix of disappointment and anger that makes your stomach twist uncomfortably. "Two years ago when you and Stan were making fun of me after I lost that goal at my soccer game."

Kyle sighs, running a hand through his hair. He is trying his best to keep his cool, but the pool of misdemeanours below him isn't helping in the slightest. Kyle takes a deep breath in an attempt to sort this through without yelling at you "What's the last thing you've stolen."

You look around for a moment before holding up a bottle of liquor "I took it last week."

"Oh god," He mutters.

"What? Is it bad?"

"That's a three thousand dollar bottle of tequila," His jaw is clenched and for a moment you think he might burst a vein in his head.

"Dang, that's expensive," You suck a sharp breath through your teeth

"You should've thought about that before you stole it."

You shrug "Well, I didn't."

"That's it?" He asks.

"What?"

"You don't care?"

"What the hell are you talking about?" You furrow your eyebrows.

"This!" He gestures at the Rubbermaid before dropping to his knees, sifting through the contents "Wallets, wedding rings, perfume, the fucking ornament I made when I was eight," Looking down, he was struck with the realisation that a large sum of the trinkets in the bin had been his at one point or another. "You really don't care that you took all of this?"

"It already happened," You say.

Kyle holds up a familiar scarf, one you remember swiping from a girl in your study group. His eyes narrow as he turns to face you. "What the hell is this?" His voice is low, a storm brewing beneath the surface.

You roll your eyes, trying to laugh it off. "Oh, come on, it's fun. No one even notices."

Kyle's eyes flash with anger. "Fun? You think stealing is fun?" His voice rises, each word punctuated by his growing fury. He steps closer, and you can see the tension in his jaw, the way his fists clench at his sides.

You start to feel the edges of your amusement crumble, replaced by a prickling unease. "Kyle, calm down. It's not that big of a deal," you say, your voice quieter now, trying to soothe the situation.

But he's not having it. "Not a big deal? This is serious! What's wrong with you?" His voice is loud now, filling the room, and echoing off the walls. He's yelling, and it hits you like a bullet to the skull.

You shrink back, your laughter dying on your lips. The air feels heavy, pressing down on you, making it hard to breathe. You look away, staring at the pattern on the bedspread, tracing the lines with your eyes, anything to avoid his piercing gaze.

Silence falls, thick and oppressive. Kyle's breathing is heavy, ragged, as he stands there, waiting for you to say something, to explain. But you can't find the words. They're stuck in your throat, tangled up with your fear and shame. You bite your lip, the taste of copper filling your mouth.

Finally, Kyle lets out a frustrated sigh. "I just-" He pauses "I don't get you," he mutters, turning away, his shoulders slumping. He walks back to the bed and sits down heavily, the mattress sinking under his weight. The music is still playing, the songs flickering by, unnoticed.

You sit in silence, the stolen items now a glaring reminder of your actions, of the chasm that has suddenly opened up between you and Kyle. You want to reach out, to bridge the gap, but you don't know how. So you sit there, quiet and still like you're in a crime scene.

.˙꩜°˖:*࿔ ☼ ࿔*:˖°꩜˙.

You spent hours getting ready, meticulously styling your hair, and carefully applying your makeup. You chose your favourite dress, a soft, flowing fabric that makes you feel beautiful and confident. The anticipation is almost unbearable, your heart thumping with excitement.

You're standing in front of the mirror, adjusting the delicate chain of your necklace, the pendant resting just below your collarbone. Your reflection shows a girl who has taken extra care tonight to be sure her makeup is flawless, a hint of highlighter accentuating your cheekbones, and your lips painted with a soft gloss. Your dress, a soft shade of blue that brings out the colour in your eyes, fits perfectly, swaying gently as you move. You've been looking forward to this date with Kyle all week.

The sound of a car horn outside snaps you out of your reverie. You grab your clutch, giving yourself one last glance in the mirror before heading downstairs. The evening air is warm, a gentle breeze rustling the leaves of the trees lining your street. Kyle is waiting by his car, leaning casually against the door, a small smile playing on his lips as he sees you approach. He looks effortlessly handsome, his ginger hair tousled just right, and his eyes sparkling in the fading light.

"You look beautiful," he says, his voice warm and genuine as he opens the car door for you.

"Thank you," you reply, feeling a blush creep up your neck. "You did your hair all nice for me."

As you settle into the passenger seat, Kyle walks around to the driver's side, sliding in with an easy grace. The car starts with a soft purr, and soon you're driving through the familiar streets of your neighbourhood, the anticipation of the evening making your heart flutter. You chat about your day, the conversation flowing easily, but as the drive continues, you notice Kyle taking turns that lead away from the downtown restaurants and cafes.

The drive starts off light and cheerful. You talk animatedly about a new café you've heard about, suggesting it as a possible destination for a study session. Kyle nods and smiles, his responses a bit more subdued than usual, but you brush it off, attributing it to the lingering tension.

As you continue to chat, you start to notice the route Kyle is taking. It's not towards any of your usual spots. The streets become less familiar, and your excitement starts to wane, replaced by a creeping confusion. "Where are we going?" you ask, trying to keep your tone light and playful, though a hint of unease slips through.

Kyle doesn't answer right away, his grip on the steering wheel tightening. "It's a surprise," he finally says, but there's something in his voice that makes your stomach twist.

There's a part of you that thinks he's preparing to drive the both of you off of a bridge or dump your body off the interstate from his rigid posture alone.

You try to guess, throwing out suggestions, but each one is met with a noncommittal hum. The unease grows, gnawing at your excitement. When he finally pulls into the parking lot of the community center, your confusion peaks. "Kyle, what are we doing here?" you ask, your voice a mix of curiosity and apprehension.

He turns off the engine and looks at you, his eyes soft but determined. He reaches out and takes your hand, his touch warm and firm. "I need you to trust me," he says, his voice gentle. He gets out of the car and comes around to open your door, helping you out.

Holding your hand, he leads you inside, the fluorescent lights of the community center casting a sterile glow. Your heart pounds in your chest as you walk down a hallway, past bulletin boards covered in flyers for various local events and activities.

He stops in front of a door with a whiteboard nailed into the wall next to it that reads 'Shoplifters Anonymous Meeting' in purple dry-erase. Your heart drops, and you look at him, your eyes wide with shock. "Kyle, what is this?" you whisper, the words barely escaping your lips.

Kyle squeezes your hand gently, his expression deadly serious. "I know you don't think it's a big deal, but it is. You need help and they can give you that." He nods his head to the room.

Tears prick at the corners of your eyes. You open your mouth to argue, to tell him that you don't need this, but the words fail you, something you weren't used to. Truly, you were speechless.

He creaks the door open, one hand on the small of your back as he guides you inside. "I'll pick you up in an hour," he says softly, leaning in to kiss your forehead. His lips are warm, a stark contrast to the cold shock that has settled in your chest. "Please, just give it a chance."

Before you can protest, he turns and walks away, leaving you standing in the hallway. The door to the meeting room looms in front of you, and you feel like you're rooted to the spot. The reality of the situation crashes over you in waves. Kyle has seen through your facade, past the laughter and the dismissive jokes, to the part of you that you've tried to ignore.

The meeting room is small and somewhat stuffy, the air thick with a mix of various perfumes and colognes. Folding chairs are arranged in a circle, and as you sit down, the cold metal presses into your back, making you shift uncomfortably. Your heart still pounds from the shock of Kyle's ambush, anger bubbling just beneath the surface.

The leader of the group, a middle-aged woman with kind eyes, starts speaking, welcoming everyone. Her voice is calm and soothing, but it grates on your nerves. You clench your fists in your lap, trying to steady your breathing. You don't belong here. This isn't you.

The others begin to share their stories, each one more heart-wrenching than the last. You listen, but the words barely register. Your mind is racing, a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. You're furious with Kyle for bringing you here, for thinking you needed this.

God, you felt like an idiot. You had spent so long getting ready, wearing a pretty dress for your boyfriend just to be shoved in a room with thieves.

The leader, Ellen, scans the room, and you feel a prick of anxiety as they land on you. "We have a new member today," she says, her voice warm but firm. "Would you like to introduce yourself?"

Your heart pounds in your chest, and you can feel the eyes of the other attendees on you, their curiosity palpable. "I'm not a shoplifter," you say entirely too fast. You weren’t wrong, you were in fact- not a shoplifter though it wasn’t far off from a kleptomaniac which you definitely were.

"That's okay. Not everyone here is a shoplifter either,” Ellen speaks softly "Would you mind telling us why you're here if you're comfortable?"

"I'm just here to observe," you say quickly, hoping to deflect the attention. "I don't really have anything to share."

Ellen nods, but her gaze remains steady, unyielding. "That's okay. We're glad you're here. Can you tell us a little about why you're observing?"

You bristle at the question, feeling cornered. "My boyfriend thought it would be a good idea," you reply, trying to keep your tone light, and dismissive.

"Why would he think that?"

"He thinks that I have a problem."

The room is silent, the air thick with unspoken questions. Ellen doesn't let you off the hook. "What kind of problem does he think you have?"

You fidget with the hem of your dress, your fingers twisting the fabric. "He thinks I steal things," you say reluctantly, your voice barely above a whisper. "And I do, but not from stores. It's just some little things from other people."

Ellen's eyes soften, but her expression remains serious. "Stealing, even in small amounts, can be a sign of deeper issues. It's good that you're here, whether you think it's a big deal or not. What kind of things have you taken?"

You feel a surge of anger, a burning frustration that makes you want to lash out. "I don't see why it matters," you snap, your voice louder than you intended.

Ellen nods, absorbing your words with a calm patience that only fuels your irritation. "Sometimes, we take things to fill a void or cope with stress. Have you thought about why you might be doing it?"

You cross your arms over your chest, your posture is defensive. "I don't know," you say, looking away. "It's not that deep."

"Okay, maybe you'll be more comfortable sharing next time." You didn't intend for there to be a next time.

The group seems to move on quickly and you wander away from all conversation, finding a nice spot to settle inside your thoughts. It had been years since you felt like this much of a fool. It was about halfway through the meeting when you couldn't take it anymore.

You push open the door and step into the hallway, the cool air a welcome relief from the stifling room. You make a beeline for the exit. The need for a cigarette is overwhelming, a desperate craving that you can't ignore. Outside, the late day sun is almost gone entirely as night begins to swallow up the sky, making you squint as you search through your bag for your lighter. Panic sets in when you realize it's not there; you must have left it in Kyle's car.

A string of curses escapes your lips as you look around frantically. Your eyes land on a purse left carelessly on a bench in the hallway. Without thinking, you reach in and pull out a lighter, the metal cool and smooth in your hand. The irony isn't lost on you, but you're too angry and desperate to care.

You step outside and light a cigarette, the first drag calming your nerves slightly. You start to walk, the rhythm of your steps a temporary distraction from the chaos in your mind. The smoke curls around you, a familiar comfort, but today it feels different, tainted by the bitter taste of your emotions.

Tears sting at your eyes, and you angrily wipe them away, but they keep coming, blurring your vision. You're furious with Kyle for putting you in this position, and for forcing you to face something you're not ready to confront. But as you walk, the anger shifts, turning inward.

You hate yourself for your bad habits, for the stealing, for the smoking. Each puff of the cigarette feels like a failure, a reminder of all the ways you've let yourself down. The tears flow more freely now, and you don't bother to stop them. You walk faster, trying to outrun the feelings, but they cling to you, weighing you down.

The familiar streets blur as you walk, and you're not sure where you're going. You just need to move, to keep going, to do something, anything to escape the overwhelming tide of emotions. But it's no use. The guilt and shame, the anger and bitterness, they all crash over you, a relentless wave that you can't fight.

You come to a stop, your legs shaking, your breath coming in ragged gasps. The cigarette burns down to the filter, and you drop it, grinding it into the pavement with the heel of your shoe. You wrap your arms around yourself, trying to hold on, to keep from falling apart completely.

You've walked for what feels like an eternity, the community center far behind you. Each inhalation a struggle against the sobs threatening to escape. The cigarette you discarded lies crushed on the pavement and you think about lightning another.

Suddenly, the sound of a car pulling up beside you breaks through the haze. You glance over, your heart skipping a beat when you see Kyle's familiar car. The window rolls down, and there he is, his eyes wide with concern.

"Hey," he calls out, his voice a mix of worry and relief. "What are you doing?"

You shake your head, biting the inside of your cheek to fight the sob you desperately want to let out. "Just stop."

His eyebrows furrow and then he gets a good look at your face and the realization strikes him like a wave of guilt "Are you crying?"

"Fuck off," You answer, turning away from him and continuing to walk.

"Shit," He mutters, quickly emerging from his car.

You stop walking, your body trembling with a mix of exhaustion and emotion. You try to speak, but the words catch in your throat, choked by the tears. Instead, you just stand there, looking at him, your face a mess of smeared makeup and raw emotion.

Kyle gets out of the car and walks over to you, his movements hesitant, as if he's not sure how to approach. When he reaches you, he gently takes your hands in his, his touch warm and grounding. "What happened?" he asks softly, his eyes searching yours for answers.

You finally find your voice, though it's weak and shaky. "I couldn't stay," you manage to say, flat. "I couldn't do it. It was too much."

Quickly you retract your hands from Kyle's, looking at him with a fury he hadn't seen in ages.

"How could you do this to me, Kyle?" you yell, your voice cracking with a mix of rage and tears. "How could you ambush me like that?"

Kyle stops in his tracks, his eyes wide with shock. "I was trying to help—"

"Help?" you cut him off, your voice rising. "You think dragging me to some meeting with strangers was helping? You blindsided me! You embarrassed me!"

He steps towards you, his expression pleading. "I didn't know what else to do. I'm worried about you."

Your chest heaves with each breath, the tears flowing freely now, hot and relentless. "You think I don't know what I'm doing is bad?" you shout, your voice trembling with the weight of your emotions. "It isn't easy for me, Kyle!"

He looks at you, his eyes filled with pain and helplessness. "I just want to help you," he says quietly. "I don't know what else to do."

Kyle reaches out, but you step back, shaking your head. "It's a fucking compulsion, I've been doing it for ages, you can't fix it in a single meeting."

Kyle's shoulders slump, and he takes a deep breath. "I'm sorry," he says, his voice barely above a whisper. "I didn't mean to hurt you. I just don't want to see you destroy yourself."

"Kyle," You draw out "You're smart so tell me why the hell you thought that would be a good idea? Because you're no prize either."

Kyle's expression shifts to one of deep sadness, his hands dropping to his sides. "I get that it's hard," he says softly, his eyes locking onto yours. "But running away from the no problem isn't going to solve it. You need help, and I thought that meeting could be a start."

You laugh, a harsh, bitter sound that cuts through the night air. "That was the furthest thing from help. It felt more like a fucking beartrap. You didn't even ask me how I felt about it, you didn't even bring it up again. You just dumped me there and expected me to be okay with it."

Kyle's jaw tightens, and he takes a deep breath, struggling to keep his composure. "I'm sorry if it felt like that," he says, his voice strained. "But I didn't know what else to do. I'm terrified of losing you to this. What if you get caught?"

Your heart aches at his words, but the anger still burns bright. "You don't understand," you say, your voice cracking. "I'm scared too. Scared that I'll never be able to stop. But you tricked me, you lied to me."

Kyle's face flushes with frustration, his eyes darkening. "I was desperate! Do you think it's easy for me to watch you self-destruct? To see you steal and smoke and hurt yourself over and over again?"

"Don't you dare make this about you," you snap, your hands trembling with anger. "You don't get it, Kyle."

Kyle takes a step closer, his jaw set. "I'm trying to help you, but you keep pushing me away. You act like I'm the enemy when all I want is to see you get better. Why can't you see that?"

Your chest heaves with each ragged breath, the tears burning in your eyes. "Because it doesn't feel like help! It just doesn't, can you get that in your fucking head? Why are you trying to fix me?"

"I'm not trying to fix you. We can't fix each other but we can help and that's all I want to do," His gaze softens "Just tell me what to do," he says, his voice cracking under the weight of his emotions.

The words hang in the air between you, and for a moment, everything feels suspended in time. You don't know what to do. The intensity of it all crashes over you like a wave, and you find yourself struggling to breathe.

You open your mouth to speak, but no words come out. Instead, a sob escapes, raw and broken. The anger that had fueled you moments ago dissipates, leaving behind a profound sense of helplessness. Your shoulders shake as the sobs come harder, your vision blurring with tears. You don't have the answers Kyle is looking for; you don't even have the answers for yourself.

Kyle's face softens, his expression shifting from frustration to concern and heartbreak. "Hey, hey," he murmurs, taking a step towards you. "It's okay."

It's not okay. Nothing feels okay. You're overwhelmed by the realization that you're spiralling, and if you don't find a way to get help, it's only going to get worse. You knew it was getting bad when you couldn't even run a mile without coughing up your lungs.

As the sobs wrack your body, you feel your knees weaken. You take an unsteady step toward Kyle, and he immediately closes the distance, pulling you into his arms. The moment you feel his embrace, the dam truly breaks. You collapse into him, your fingers clutching at his shirt as if he's the only thing keeping you from drowning.

"I don't know what to do," you whisper between sobs, your voice barely audible.

His arms tighten around you, one hand gently cradling the back of your head. "We'll figure it out," he says softly, his voice thick with emotion.

You bury your face in his chest, the sobs continuing to pour out of you, each one tearing at your heart. You feel a mix of shame and relief, the two emotions intertwining in a confusing dance. Shame because you're admitting, finally, that you need help. Relief because, at this moment, Kyle's arms around you make you feel less alone, less lost.

You made a decision in your mind, after months of back and forth with yourself "That was my last cigarette," You sniffle "Ever." It was far from your last in truth but still proved to be a pivotal moment in your life.

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stayingstromboli · 3 months

Text

ACADEMIC RIVALS- MATTHEW STURNIOLO X FEM READER

TW: KISSING, SWEARING

SUMMARY: Matt and you have always competed against each other, whether it be sport, grades or friends. However will your secret romantic feelings for each other change your relationship or just make you hate each other more?

A/N- Matt and you are 17 and are in high school (I think- I’m British and our school system is different so sorry if I got the wrong school year). Also this is my first time writing seriously so I hope it’s good.

"Matt let me past."

Me and Matt had never really got along. By really I mean at all. Since middle school he strived to make every waking day a misery for me, going out of his way to annoy me. And in return I made sure do the same to him. Tests, assignments, even in terms of popularity. Everything we did we were endlessly competing to try and one up the other, constantly at each other's throats trying to drag the other down. When did this all start? Nobody could remember anymore. It's just how it's always been. And nobody cared to be the one tobe the first to put and end to these antics and 'lose'.

"Matt move the fuck away, go haunt someone else", I spat at the boy, who stood blocking my path, leaning on the lockers in front of me.

My annoyance was very apparent as I eyed him in disgust, his bright blue eyes meeting my stoney grey eyes. The bell had rung, signaling us to go to our next lesson, the sudden flood of students trapping me, pushing me into my locker, making it impossible for me to get around him.

"Make me", Matt sneers, clearly enjoying himself immensely as he saw the frustration growing on my face.

"Oh I fucking will"

I barge past Matt, shoving him out of my way. Or trying to. He grabbed me by the shoulders and yanked me back, leaning forward as he did so. His grip was firm leaving no room for me to wriggle away. There were inches between us, forcing me to breathe in the musk of his cologne, strong and spicy, comforting almost. It took every fibre of my being to keep my breathing steady: Matt cannot know that I find him even remotely attractive. I'd never live it down! I prayed with all of my might that it wasn't obvious from my face or body language that I was flustered, desperately hoping that my face was not a bright shade of beetroot.

Matt stood like that for a good few minutes, studying my face with great intent, absorbing my every detail of my facial expression, which didn't exactly help my paranoia, especially when I saw his lips upturn slightly, clearly finding something amusing. My initial attempt at matching his stare with cold, icy one was a complete failure, his beautiful deep blue eyes drowning out any hatred or disdain behind my glare, so in defeat I fixed my eyes firmly on the floor to hide any fondness towards the boy in front of me. Or rather, I tried to. The success rate, however, was questionable. Each breath he took was hot on my neck, the thought of his smirk, his lips, too appetising, inviting me back in.

Fuck this man. How am I supposed to hate him when every attribute that made him so detestable made him so attractive at the same time. Like one of those villains in films that you're supposed to hate but everyone ends up fangirling over instead. The control. The charisma. The charm. Everything drawing you in. There he is towering over me, pinning me to the lockers physically restraining me and here I am losing all composure. He knows what he's doing and he's enjoying watching it happen, and so I have to focus even harder to not give him that satisfaction of winning.

Finally snapping my attention back to the bigger problem at large, I took my chance while he was preoccupied. My foot smashed down onto his, causing Matt to yelp, in what must've been shock rather than pain- we both know that I certainly don't have enough strength to actually hurt him, just enough to cause a minor inconvenience. I quickly turned on my heels and stalked away down the now isolated corridor, which in itself was quite a worrying sign. I made my escape while I still could, but out of my peripheral I could see Matt, trailing after me like a disease.

I pretty much ran to English, anxiety churning away in my stomach as I wondered how late I even was.

"Theres no point going."

Matt's voice startled me, pulling me back from the mess of worries circling my head.

"Excuse me?"

"English class. Theres no point going. He'll only give you detention. Come with me instead."

"Matthew, why the fuck should I trust you? You're the one who got me into this mess in the first place", I reply sharply, not even turning to acknowledge him as I continued at my fast pace.

"What can you not bear missing one lesson? You're either too scared to miss even one small worthless little lesson or you've truly let your hatred towards me and cloud your better judgment. If we show up we'll just get detention, in which you'll have even more with me. Unless of course that was the pla-"

"Don't flatter yourself. Fine, I'll come with you, but only to avoid the embarrassment of everyone turning to look as we enter."

A disgusting smug smile of self satisfaction was plastered across his face as I followed him back down the hallway, making Matt look extremely punchable. Once we finally made it out of school and into the parking lot I followed him to his car, where he gestured for me to get in.

We were physically too close for me to even try and avoid my romantic feelings for him, not even half a meter between us in the front seats of the car. The smell of his cologne was stronger than ever, his hair fluffy and within arms reach, tempting me. The silver chain around his neck made him look even hotter, dangling over his pale blue hoodie which matched his eyes perfectly. My heart was thumping in my chest as my eyes trailed over the boy next to me, almost skipping a beat when I catch the rosy tint spreading across his cheeks while we looked at each other. I could've sworn I saw him glance at my mouth as he licked his lips. Matt? The same Matt that purposefully trips me up or insult me at every given opportunity or get in my way whenever possible. Surely not. They must've just been dry or something. I know him, he wouldn’t.. He couldn’t… And yet this side of the Matt in front of me was completely foreign to me.

He reached out to plug in the aux cable, his hand brushing past mine as he did, causing a sudden a jolt of electricity between us as our skin touched. My eyes immediately shoot up to meet his gaze at this sudden touch, and I feel myself feel hotter under his steady eye. I sat there goggling at his natural beauty, ensuring to remember the look of golden summer sun streaking across his face, shadows forming under his jawline and cheek bones contouring his face perfectly.

His hands meet his way to my cheeks, cupping them, and I melt further and further into him. He inched closer, his breath gently fanning my face. He was so close I could see every mark, scar and freckle on his face. Before I know it, Matt’s lips are smashed against mine, hard and urgent yet soft at the same time. The kiss is hungry, our lips passionately fighting against each other, desperate to feel more of the other’s touch. His tongue explored my mouth, the taste of him mixing with the taste of my cherry chapstick. His hands trail from my cheeks to wrap my waist, fitting perfectly, as if he was made to be with me.

We continued for a while, together a hot mess as we lent across the gear stick, tired from the strain but too desperate to feel each other’s touch to bear to stop. That was, until we were suddenly interrupted by a loud knock on the window and the shocked faces of Chris and Nick.

“Do you guys come up for air? God”

Disgust was written all over Nick’s face, his voice dripping in sarcasm, whereas Chris had a bemused smile playing at his lips. The shock of the noise made us separate immediately, jumping back, almost giving me a heart attack.

Matt just gives them the finger as I shrink back in my seat, nuzzling my head in the crook of his shoulder in embarrassment hoping to disappear. One things for sure: neither of his brothers are going to let us forget this. Ever.

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