#i think i stuck it out until just around the end where i got bored and thought the cousin thing and the rape stuff was weird enough for me-

[heliianth]

i havent watched the original series since i was like 11 but my recent obsession with saoa is really tempting me to revisit it

[hoshifighting]

gym rat roommate!seungcheol

— WARNINGS: smut, seungkwan accidentally catch you naked (seungcheol's fault), oral (f. receiving), seungcheol cums untouched, ''begging'', reader tries to be unbothered as seungcheol eats her out, mentions of anabolics jokes and etc. — WC: 3.2k

you never thought sharing a dorm with a leo would be this damn exhausting. when you both got assigned to the same room, you thought it’d be fine—no big deal, just another dude trying to get through college, right? wrong. seungcheol is the textbook definition of a gym rat, spending half his life lifting weights, and the other half driving you insane.

“can you not leave your towel on the bed?” you huff, staring at the damp mess he’s made.

“it’ll dry,” he shrugs, not even bothering to look up from his phone.

“not the point,” you mutter, tossing the towel into the bathroom.

and then there’s the cabinets. oh god, the cabinets. every time he makes his stupid whey protein shake, it’s like he forgets how to close them. it’s a small thing, but it drives you up the wall.

“are you allergic to shutting doors or something?” you ask, eyebrow raised as you gesture at the open cabinets.

“didn’t realize it bothered you so much,” he says, smirking, which only makes you want to strangle him more.

but the stove? that’s where you draw the line. the dude can wash dishes, sure, but he leaves the stove looking like a battlefield, grease splatters and all.

“seriously, seungcheol, you gonna clean that or what?” you snap, pointing at the mess.

“i’ll get to it,” he replies lazily, which means it’s gonna sit there until you can’t take it anymore and do it yourself.

you two bicker like this all the time, the tension simmering just below the surface. it doesn’t help that he’s constantly complaining about your hair everywhere, or the makeup you leave on the sink when you’re rushing out the door.

“do you shed on purpose?” he grumbles, vacuuming for the third time that week.

“do you have to be such a neat freak?” you shoot back, rolling your eyes.

and don’t even get started on the tv. whenever you switch from his boring sports channels to something decent, like a reality show, he acts like you’ve committed a crime.

“i was watching that,” he says, voice low and annoyed.

“yeah, well, this is more interesting,” you retort, settling in for your dose of drama.

the only time you get any peace is when he’s at the gym, and those hours are like heaven. just pure, blissful silence. and for him? the few hours when you’re at your dance classes must be the only moments he’s not silently cursing your existence.

you always wished for a quiet roommate. not that seungcheol was loud—no, he wasn’t a screamer or anything, but his friends? they never left. you couldn't catch a break from the constant parade of guys stomping through your shared dorm like it was their second home. jihoon, one of seungcheol’s quieter friends, was looking for a new roommate at one point, and you almost packed your bags right then and there. the guy was a dream—silent as a ghost and didn’t have a herd of dudes wandering around the place like it was a frat house.

but nope, you were stuck with seungcheol, who never bothered to warn you before letting his friends take over the living room.

and that’s how you ended up in this mess.

seungcheol had left a few minutes ago for the gym, and you were enjoying the peace, taking a long, hot bath. everything was fine until you realized—you forgot your towel. with no one home, you figured it’d be safe to dash to your room and grab it. big mistake.

thinking the coast is clear, you slip out of the bathroom, water dripping off your skin, and make a dash for your room. just as you reach the hallway, freezing your ass off, you hear it—a rustling from the kitchen. before you can even react, seungkwan rounds the corner, a cup in hand, and both of you freeze.

“AHHHHH!”

you both scream like you’ve just seen a ghost, or, you know, each other naked. you bolt for your room, slamming the door shut behind you.

you can hear the guys in the living room getting startled, their conversation cutting off abruptly as seungkwan yells, “don’t come in here! for the love of god, stay put!” you imagine him standing there, one hand clapped over his eyes, traumatized for life—or not lmao.

from the safety of your room, you yell at the top of your lungs, “CHOI SEUNGFUCKING-CHEOL!”

you don’t leave your bedroom until you’re absolutely sure they’ve all left. you can hear them shuffling around, and then, finally, silence. when seungcheol knocks on your door, you yank it open, eyes burning with rage, and immediately start pounding on his chest.

“what the hell did i do?!” he asks, bewildered, as you keep landing blows on him, your fists connecting with his chest repeatedly.

“what the fuck, seungcheol! i’m going to fucking kill you!” you hiss, your voice barely keeping it together.

the boys who are just leaving freeze at the front door, eyes wide, before they scramble to get out, closing the door behind them in a hurry.

“whoa, whoa, what’s going on?” he stammers, trying to catch your wrists, wincing with each hit.

“what’s going on?! you seriously asking me that right now?” you shout, not giving a damn that he’s confused. his clueless expression only makes your blood boil more.

“i wasn’t even here, what are you talking about?” he says, sounding defensive, and it nearly makes you explode.

“you didn’t even fucking bother to tell me your friends were still here! i thought i was alone, seungcheol!” you scream, your voice reaching that pitch where even he starts to look worried. “and now seungkwan’s seen my fucking ass!”

his eyes go wide, shock written all over his face as he stares at you. “wait, what? seungkwan saw you naked?!”

“yes, you idiot!” you practically screech, your face flushing red with embarrassment. “he saw everything, and you’re to blame!”

“alright, alright, calm down,” he says, though his voice is anything but calm. “just… stop screaming for a sec, will you?”

“don’t tell me to calm down!” you snap back, but your hits start to lose their strength. “i can’t believe this is happening. fuck, i’m never gonna live this down.”

“it’s not that bad,” he tries, but you can hear the strain in his voice, as if he’s trying to convince himself as much as you.

“not that bad? not that bad?!” you glare at him, hands on your hips now, chest heaving. “seungkwan saw my naked ass, seungcheol! you have any idea how fucking mortifying that is?”

he bites his lip, and you can see him holding back something—probably a retort, maybe even an apology. but it doesn’t matter, because deep down, a part of him is seething for a different reason altogether.

“you’re not getting off that easy. i swear, if this ever happens again, you’re going to regret it for the rest of your life. i don’t care if i have to tattoo a schedule on your forehead, you’re gonna tell me when your damn friends are over!” you snarl, storming back into your room and slamming the door shut, leaving seungcheol standing there, more than a little terrified.

your luck was that seungkwan kept his mouth shut and didn’t tell anyone. he even apologized to you, which, honestly, wasn’t necessary since it wasn’t his fault to begin with. when he showed up at your door, looking sheepish, you waved off his apologies.

“it wasn’t your fault, seungkwan,” you say, sighing. “i don’t even know why you’re apologizing.”

“i know why,” seungkwan mutters, and you catch the way his eyes flicker toward seungcheol, who’s hovering behind him, looking a bit too innocent.

“he made you do this, didn’t he?” you ask, narrowing your eyes at seungcheol.

“are you really gonna scold me in front of my friend?” seungcheol whines, crossing his arms.

“it was your fault,” you and seungkwan say in unison, causing seungcheol to groan dramatically, dragging a hand down his face.

the next few days, you’re still so mad—the embarrassment has lightened, but the irritation lingers. you ignore seungcheol’s existence entirely, which seems to throw him off more than your usual bickering. but the result? the boy falls right into line. cabinets? closed. towels? hung up neatly. the stove? spotless, along with the dishes. it’s like he’s scared to mess up again.

he even starts working out at home, right in the middle of the living room, just so there’s no risk of his friends dropping by when he’s not there. every time you walk by and give him a dismissive huff, he sulks, pouting like a kicked puppy.

“you’re really not gonna talk to me?” he asks one day, mid-push-up, his voice a little too whiny for someone who usually acts so tough.

you don’t even bother to respond, just let out another huff and keep walking.

“come on, y/n, i’m sorry! what do i have to do, beg?” he calls after you, his tone half-joking, half-desperate.

you pause, glancing back at him, his big eyes pleading with you. you almost crack but manage to keep your composure.

you huff, slumping onto the couch, grabbing the remote to turn on the tv. seungcheol scoffs as he watches you, getting up from his spot and kneeling in front of you. you ignore him, your eyes glued to the screen, but you can feel his presence, and it’s hard not to notice how ridiculous he looks, sarcastically begging for forgiveness.

“y/n, come on, forgive me, pleeease,” he drawls out dramatically, hands clasped together like he’s praying, his voice dripping with mockery.

you finally tear your gaze away from the tv, raising an eyebrow at him. “go drink your protein shake, cheol,” you say, your tone dismissive.

he rolls his eyes, placing his hands on your knees, and there’s something in his touch that makes you pause. “okay, okay, for real now. can you please forgive me?”

your eyes drift down to his hands, warm and firm on your kneecaps. he notices the way you’re staring and moves his hands to rest on his thighs, waiting for your response. you stay quiet, taking in the sight of him kneeling in front of you, looking almost vulnerable.

when he thinks you’re going to ignore him again, you finally speak up, your tone dripping with mockery. “do you really want my forgiveness, cheol?”

he hums in frustration, rolling his eyes again, as if he’s bracing himself for another sarcastic remark.

you let a small smirk play on your lips. “then why don’t you make the most of being on your knees, and put that mouth to better use?”

his eyes widen in shock, your unbothered expression leaving him stunned. you can see the gears turning in his head, but before he can even respond, you slowly spread your legs in front of him, your attention casually returning to the tv.

seungcheol nearly freezes on the spot, almost losing his balance as he processes what you just said. but the sight of you, open and inviting, has him swallowing hard, his throat bobbing as he struggles to maintain composure.

he doesn’t know where to start, caught between the shock of your command and the thrill that’s been building up inside him for ages. he hesitates for a moment, then reaches under your dress, his fingers grazing the edge of your panties—the ones he’s already had a peek at earlier. you keep your eyes glued to the tv, acting like you didn’t just ask him to do what he’s been fantasizing about for far too long.

seungcheol’s never been one for preliminaries; that’s just not his style. so instead of teasing, he pushes your dress up, exposing more of your thighs, and hooks his fingers around the waistband of your panties, tugging them down. his breath catches when he realizes you weren’t prepared for this—you’re not wearing the usual lacy things he often sees in the laundry, and you’re not wet—yet.

his hands are firm under your legs as he spreads them wider, leaning in closer. the anticipation coils in his gut as he spits on your pussy, watching the wetness slowly glide over your folds. you squirm just a little, the sudden sensation making you shift, but your eyes stay focused on the tv, pretending this isn’t affecting you.

the sight of you like this—so casual, so indifferent—only makes seungcheol more determined. he dips his head down, his tongue dragging a slow, deliberate line along your slit, tasting the mix of his spit and your skin. the thought that seungkwan got to see you naked before he did burns in the back of his mind, fueling his movements.

he starts off slow, almost gentle, but the more you keep ignoring him, the harder he goes. his lips wrap around your clit, sucking it hard enough to make you gasp, though you try to keep it quiet. he can feel your resolve slipping as he works his mouth on you, each stroke of his tongue more focused, more intense.

seungcheol’s goal is clear: make you forget about whatever the hell you’re watching on tv and finally give him the attention he craves. he wants to see you fall apart because of him, to know that he’s the one getting you off like this.

he moves one of his hands to your thigh, squeezing it as he bobs his head, sucking your clit harder with each motion. finally, you can’t take it anymore. your head tilts down, and you meet his gaze—his big, dark eyes looking up at you so fucking needy. the sight of him, lips slick with your arousal, head moving rhythmically between your legs, makes your jaw fall slack.

your hand instinctively reaches for his hair, fingers tangling in the strands as you grip him tighter, urging him on. seungcheol hums against your clit, the vibrations making you moan, your focus entirely on him now. the tv is forgotten, the show nothing more than background noise as you finally give him what he’s been aching for—your full, undivided attention.

his tongue flicks over your clit—fast, almost unbelievably so—and your body reacts instantly. your back arches off the couch, toes curling, and your grip on the remote tightens. you squeeze it so hard that buttons are pressed at random, the tv screen flashing through channels, the volume going mute, settings changing. but none of that matters anymore. the only thing you can focus on is the way seungcheol’s tongue works against you, driving you absolutely insane.

he grabs your hips, holding you down because you’re squirming too much, trying to grind against his face despite the overwhelming sensation. every time you move, he digs his fingers into your skin, a low groan vibrating against your pussy. your breath comes out in shaky moans, and even though you can barely string words together, you start talking dirty to him anyway.

“f-fuck, seungcheol—y-you're so fucking good at this, fuck—”

your words are laced with moans, stuttering as you try to form sentences. “y-your tongue... oh my god, i hate you—i fucking hate you,” you gasp, but the way you’re grinding into his face tells him otherwise. “i s-swear, you're gonna make me cum s-so fast, you asshole.”

the filthy words spilling from your mouth only fuel him more. he’s close to losing it, just from the sound of you, from the way you’re cursing him out between moans. his tongue flicks faster, relentless, and he watches the way you react, loving the way your body shakes under his control.

“y-yeah, just like that, don't stop—oh, fuck,” you manage to gasp out, your voice rising as he pushes you closer to the edge. he’s so turned on it’s almost embarrassing, the way you’re unraveling beneath him making him throb painfully in his pants. your filthy and breathless talk, your taste and the way youre wetting his tongue more and more, makes him feel like he could cum right there, just from the way you moan his name.

he’s obsessed with the way you’re falling apart, and when you start tugging at his hair harder, he knows he’s got you right where he wants. your head falls back, the tv now nothing but a silent, blurry background, and all you can focus on is the feeling of his tongue, his mouth, the way he’s devouring you like it’s the only thing he’s ever wanted.

“god, fuck—cheol, i’m so fucking close,” you moan, your body trembling as you teeter on the edge. he flicks his tongue faster, sucking hard on your clit, desperate to make you cum, desperate to feel the way you’ll fall apart completely because of him.

seungcheol’s hips grind against the corner of the sofa, desperately seeking some kind of friction. when he feels your breath catch, your voice going silent, he risks a glance up and sees you—your mouth open, almost like you’re ready to take him in, and your hand gripping his hair with an iron grip, showing no mercy. the way you’re spasming on his tongue, the tension in your body, it all pushes him closer to the edge.

he lets out a long, whiny moan against you, eyebrows furrowed in concentration, and then he can’t help it—his mouth slips from your clit, leaving it throbbing and aching, as his hand rushes down to grab his cock. he presses his thumb against his slit through his sweatpants, feeling the dampness already soaking through. he’s so turned on it’s almost painful, his hips bucking against his hand as he lets out a moan into the soft skin of your thigh.

“fuck, seungcheol,” you pant, spreading your legs wider, acting like you’re not just as turned on by the sight of him falling apart in front of you. “you really came that fast? i didn’t think the gym rat would be such a quick shot,” you tease, your voice dripping with mockery. “what, the anabolics making you weak or something?”

his eyes snap up, and he shoots you a glare, knowing damn well he doesn’t use that shit. “shut the fuck up,” he mutters, trying to sound pissed, but the effect is ruined by the way his voice shakes.

you smirk, your gaze mocking as you look down at him. “then stop whining and get back to work,” you command, your tone sharp. “or do i need to find someone else who can actually handle me?”

seungcheol’s jaw clenches, eyes stabbing you as he leans in again. he bites down lightly on one of your folds, making you jolt and laugh, the sound quickly turning into a moan as he resumes his task.

“that’s more like it,” you say, voice breathy, threading your fingers through his hair again, a satisfied smile on your lips as he starts flicking his tongue over your clit once more.

he grins against you, feeling the vibrations of your moan as you finally let go, focusing entirely on the pleasure he’s giving you. it’s a game for him now, teasing you just as much as you’re teasing him, determined to make you lose control all over again. the sound of your laughter + your moans is the only thing he needs, spurring him on as he buries his face between your legs, eager to make you come undone for him, and only him.

[s-brant]

Three’s Company

When Patrick visits his best friend at Stanford University, Art’s new fling finds herself stuck between two very attractive men.

9k (18+)

Warnings: smut, threesome, unprotected p in v, double penetration, oral sex (fem receiving), fingering, they’re all pervs, and strong language.

-

The room is stiflingly hot.

There is no air conditioning in her study/fuck buddy's dorm to keep up with the late April heat that has descended upon Stanford's campus so quickly. Three different fans are plugged into outlets around the cramped living space, yet it does little to keep her body cool enough to feel comfortable.

Sleeping with Art was an impulsive decision. The first time was merely weeks ago after he politely asked if she would share her notes from a class he was absent from. They exchanged numbers to organize the meeting, and she ended up talking to him for the better part of an hour in the dining hall. Although she did not recognize it as flirting—the oblivious little thing she is—he shyly commented on seeing her at one of her gymnastics competitions and refused to let her get dinner with her meal credits. Looking back, his intentions should have been obvious to her, yet she does not think badly of him over it. If anything, she likes how wanted he made her feel. He knew what he wanted and ensured that he got it.

They came back to his room to study—only to study, he claimed with his hands held up to proclaim his innocence—for their approaching final exams.

"Good," she said with a teasing lilt to her voice, slinging her bag onto her shoulder and turning to walk in the direction of his dorm building. "Cause it's way too hot to be doing anything else."

They were both laughing as he set down his racquet bag to unlock the door. It was muffled through the wall, but Patrick heard it just fine from where he was perched on the foot of Art's bed with Tears for Fears playing on the unlabeled CD he dug through desk drawers to find. The sound of a distinctly feminine giggle made his mouth turn up at the corners in a smirk. This will be fun to tease his closest friend over until his cheeks flush pink and he has to hide his face in his shirt.

When the door swung open, the laughter died out as soon as they realized they weren't alone, but it was quickly replaced with wide smiles and warm greetings.

Patrick tried not to look her up and down so blatantly. Instead, he chuckled and said, "Art, you conveniently left out that you had a girlfriend on our last call."

To this, Art set down his bag and tackled him onto the bed, starting a minute-long wrestling match that only ended when they began to sweat from the heat and physical activity. It was then that Art remembered to have manners and introduced her. He scrambled to sit upright on the mattress and met her curious gaze.

"Y/N, this is Patrick. I'm sorry, I forgot what day he was coming."

She smiled.

"It's nice to meet you. I've heard a lot about you." A pause, and then she turned her attention to Art. "Do you wanna study another time? I don't wanna intrude or anything."

Before Art could open his mouth to tell her to stay, Patrick aimed one of his charming grins at her, then said, "No, please intrude. I'll just hang out. You won't even know I'm here."

The last sentence caused a disbelieving scoff to leave Art’s lips.

As of right now, as she sits on the chair in front of the desk and the boys share the bed, they have gotten halfway through the study guide they meticulously constructed after one of the two classes they share, but it grew boring once an hour and a half passed. They typically end up getting distracted and make out by now, but with Patrick here, neither of them considers that an option. So, she suggests they take a half-hour break to sit, drink, and talk to allow their brains to decompress from the constant stimulation.

He already had a few beers inside the mini fridge beneath his desk, along with a hard seltzer for her seeing that she finds the taste of beer disgusting but quite enjoys being drunk with him. Also kept in the freezer section of the fridge is a pack of ice pops she bought a few days ago when the heat wave began. They prove to be very useful right now as the midday sun bakes the building alive despite the closed curtains and blowing fans.

The CD has moved onto Nine Inch Nails, and she remains quiet to hear it over the sound of the fans as she holds a red ice pop to the side of her neck to cool herself off. Sometime along the way, both of them had stripped down to their underwear after asking her if it was alright because it was so hot. Patrick joked that he was alright with her taking her clothes off too, which she laughed at while Art playfully shoved him over it. Yet now she isn't laughing. Her small exercise shorts are as forgiving as any item of clothing could be in these circumstances, but the long-sleeve shirt she wore because it was the only clean one left is sticking to her skin.

"So, how did you and Art meet?"

Her eyes open to find Patrick glancing back and forth between them.

"It's a boring story, actually," she says. "He asked if I took notes for a class he missed, and now he's stuck with me all the time."

"No, no, okay, maybe it was boring from her perspective, but I was trying to work up the nerve to talk to her for at least a week before then. I went to one of her competitions and recognized her from class," Art explains. "She won, which wasn't surprising at all."

Although she already knew this, this is the first time he has admitted to it out loud, and her stomach flutters at the idea of him becoming so enamored with her from one glance. The popsicle is sweet on her tastebuds when she raises it to her lips and sucks with her eyes looking between them both. As she expected, Patrick shifts a little in place and looks away for reasons not at all related to how she was looking at them while sucking her popsicle.

She chuckles.

"So, you were just interested in befriending me 'cause I win a lot?"

Her tone of voice is taunting, but they know it's all in good fun. Art is quick to play along, shrugging his shoulders to feign aloofness and taking a quick swig of his beer before responding. Their eye contact grows intense in the seconds before he speaks.

"Well, there were some other contributing factors."

"Mm," Patrick hums in agreement. "I've never seen you compete, but you are really hot, so Art's right about that."

This makes her pause for a second, her gaze shifting to find Art's to see if his friend crossed any lines, but he appears strangely calm about it. What she doesn't know is that he has never had any problem sharing, at least, not with Patrick. They shared a room in boarding school, jerked off together to the same girl, and shared the court together—what was his would always be Patrick's, and what was Patrick's would always be his.

"You're flirting with me right in front of him?"

Art interjects, "I'd be shocked if he didn't."

As soon as the words leave his mouth, he's standing up from the bed to get another beer. The dorm room is small, so it only takes a few strides for him to meet her where she sits before the desk and kneels down to open the mini fridge. His left hand braces itself on one of her thighs while the right swings open the fridge door only to find there is no beer left. Rather than complain, he simply grabs one of her least favorite hard seltzer flavors and gives her thigh a firm squeeze before standing up.

The bed creaks beneath his weight when he sits back down on it.

He settles into a comfortable position with his back against the wall and legs spread, balancing the seltzer can on his bent knee. Patrick sits close to him, and she finds it difficult to peel her eyes off the pair of them in their current state of undress. Her gaze mostly lingers on Patrick seeing that she has already explored every inch of Art's lean body in the plentiful amount of times they've hooked up over the past few weeks. But, that being said, she cannot resist looking at Art either. Having two beautiful men laid out before her in their underwear is a treat she never expected to indulge in today. They each have the strong, masculine figures of athletes—showing mostly in their shoulders, biceps, abdomen, and thighs.

When Patrick notices her staring, she turns her gaze to the floor to avoid the embarrassment of being caught. If he did catch her, though, he doesn't call her out for it. Not yet, at least.

With one last bite of her popsicle, she stands from the desk chair to toss it into the small trash can beside his nightstand. It isn't until she lets it go that she realizes how close she now stands to the two of them. Only a foot or so from the bed, her heart begins to hammer in her chest at the proximity.

The way she sees it, she has two options. The first would be to retreat to the desk to let her long-sleeved shirt give her heatstroke while the men get to sit in front of the oscillating fans with their shirts off, or she can strip down to her undergarments and join them on the bed. Needless to say, she opts for the latter of the two.

Y/N lets out an exaggerated groan at the heat and fans herself with her hands for the sake of appearing somewhat innocent in what she's about to do, then reaches down for the hem of her shirt with a huff.

Art and Patrick can do nothing but watch with rapt attention side by side as she pulls the fabric up her torso and over her head. The shirt ends up falling to the floor beside her feet alongside their discarded t-shirts and pants. This leaves her in her most comfortable bra—which is Art's favorite since her nipples can be seen through the mesh material—and a pair of tiny spandex shorts.

Patrick's tongue darts out to wet his lips at the sight of her—almost angelic in her beauty—and tries to burn the image into his mind to hold onto forever. Definitely going in the spank bank, he thinks to himself as his cock begins to harden in his boxers. Beside him, Art has been stunned to silence. Even though they've fucked like rabbits since the first time, he isn't sure if he'll ever get used to seeing her like this. Those shorts hug the delicate curve of her hips, as well as that lovely ass that has been sculpted from years of training as a gymnast, and all he can think of is how badly he wants to take them off.

They sit there, dumbfounded, with their mouths hanging open just enough for her to notice and suppress an arrogant smirk. But to allow herself to smirk would be to reveal her cards, and she doesn't want them to see this as anything other than her innocently trying to cool down. Truth be told, she hasn't thought this through. It's not as though she planned this as she was sitting at the desk. It's more of an impulsive, irresistible urge. And if they will tease her so blatantly with their half-naked bodies, she is entitled to do the same.

"You," she says, jutting her chin in Patrick's direction. "Scoot. I wanna sit in front of the fans too."

Underneath it all, she's thankful that she took the time to do her hair the way that makes her feel the most confident and put a little makeup on. Not that either of them is focused on her damned makeup. No, they're far too busy ogling her figure to notice anything north of her collarbones.

After a delayed second of staring, what she said seems to register within him and spark him into action. He's quick to scoot closer to the end of the bed if it means she'll be inhabiting the small space between them. 

She offers a quiet, "Thank you," and crawls onto the bed, turning around and settling into place with her back against the wall. The cool air generated by the fans blows faintly against the front of her sweat-slick chest, and she can't help but shut her eyes and hum in appreciation of it.

With her eyes shut, Art and Patrick are both scrambling to quietly conceal their growing erections. If they don't, it'll be glaringly obvious when she opens her eyes and sees a tent in their underwear on either side of her. Although the life-long friends don't speak, there's an understanding formed between the two of them. Whatever she allows them to have of her tonight, if she allows anything, they'll share nicely. Patrick knows that if anything happens, he is to assume it is a one-time thing unless she or Art expresses a desire for an arrangement of some sort to be made.

Her eyes open again a few seconds later to find them staring at her.

Breaking the silence, she asks, turning her head left to right to address each of them, "Did your mothers never tell you it's rude to stare?"

Patrick doesn't miss a beat.

"Did you know it's rude to be a tease?"

The sound of Art sucking in a deep breath meets her ears, but she doesn't look away from Patrick. Their eyes are locked, and she can see the mischief present in his. It's almost as if he dares her to do something...like he knows that she wants him just as badly as he wants her. Part of her feels guilty, feeling like she should remain loyal to Art even though they aren't exclusive, but a much more dominant part of her desires it too much to resist the temptation.

"Patrick, don't pressure her. If she doesn't want to—"

Her head turning to look at him halts him in his tracks. The look she's giving him...

Much to his shock, she was a virgin when they met a few weeks ago. He questioned her relentlessly, claiming there was no way someone as beautiful, smart, and talented as her could've gone so long without doing it, but she held firm. It was the truth, he realized after she sheepishly relayed the story of how she made out with a basketball player on Halloween and wimped out before it could go further. That first night, she was a bashful, blushing little thing. He treated her with the tenderness and reverence she deserved, first making her come with his tongue and fingers before fucking her. It was so...intimate. Her nails dug into his shoulders when he made that first, breathtaking thrust into her. Just the thought of it was enough to get him hard the next day, but he knew not to expect anything after how shy she was the previous night. Little did he know, he awakened something within her, and from then on, she would be insatiable.

He almost got whiplash from how quickly she changed from a nervous, flushed-faced girl asking him, "Am I doing this right?" when she got on top to a cock-hungry temptress ready to jump onto him at any moment. Truth be told, he found it so fucking hot. To think that he was the catalyst for this behavior was beyond comprehension. Though Art did well enough in his dating life, Patrick was the one that the girls they liked gravitated toward when they were in school together. But she was his, and he thinks, even now, that he'll always have the satisfaction of having gotten to her first no matter what happens tonight.

Y/N shifts around on the mattress so that she's sitting on the side of the bed opposite the wall, facing them with her hands on her knees and legs tucked beneath her ass. Both boys perk up a little at this, and they watch every minute movement she makes and listen to every breath she breathes with unwavering focus.

She meets Art's gaze first before doing anything. Her brows raise in question, and, in answer, he gives her a slight nod. Those pretty, cherry-stained lips of hers curve into a smirk she doesn't even bother to hide in response to this.

"Have you ever fucked the same girl before?" she asks out of pure curiosity, her tone calm and even. Her hands leave her knees to grab one of their thighs each, slowly rubbing up and down to allow her fingertips to brush the edge of their boxers. "Two guys at the same time is a first for me..."

To say that they are in a state of shock would be a gross understatement. Surprisingly, their mouths are not hanging open, and they aren't drooling at the mere thought of what she's proposing.

Somehow, Patrick finds his voice and says, "No." A second of pause, then—"Is this for real? Like you're not just fucking with us?"

The silence that follows is ripe with tension. All that can be heard is the sound of voices passing in the hallway outside of the dorm room and fans blowing on their highest setting. The hands on their thighs come to a halt at the edge of their boxers, and the softened expression on her face shifts into one of unabashed lust as she looks at Patrick.

In answer to his question, she starts to crawl over to him. Seeing that the mattress is a twin, it doesn't take too long for her to reach him and settle into place on top of him. Her hands slide up to cup his face, forcing him to only look at her when she lowers herself onto his lap. The spandex shorts hugging every inch of her figure do little to keep him from feeling the warmth of her cunt against the bulge that formed the second she took her top off.

That first brush of her lips against his is gentle, as though she has him under a trance, but it doesn't take longer than a few seconds for him to snap out of it. Patrick's hands grasp her hips first to keep her from moving away, then they slide down to knead the soft, supple flesh of her ass as he begins to kiss her back hungrily. The kiss quickly begins to descend from her lips to her jaw until he reaches the soft skin of her neck.

While he nips and sucks at the sensitive spot along the side of her neck, Y/N opens her eyes to find Art staring, unblinking, at the pornographic display before him. The sight of him alone—between his messy blonde hair, piercing eyes, and masterfully structured face—is enough to pull a breathy moan from the back of her throat. One would think that she would get used to the way he makes her feel when he looks at her like that, but she never does.

One of the arms wrapped around Patrick's neck uncurls itself to reach for Art, fingers wiggling to beckon him to her. 

He's already invading her space by the time she whispers, "C'mere, baby."

Art practically melts into the two writhing bodies he kneels beside at the casual use of a pet name from her. The word echoes in the farthest reaches of his brain until it is all he can hear on a loop. Even as she grips the back of his neck and pulls him until their mouths collide, his cock twitches from the memory of her calling him baby.

Patrick continues to suck, lick, nip, and kiss his way down her neck as she slips her tongue into Art's mouth with a groan. He leaves marks behind everywhere he goes with the thought of his friend finding them on her for the next week and a half in mind. It only makes it more thrilling for him to imagine the strange mixture of frustration and arousal that will arise within Art when he rediscovers them the next time they hook up.

Slowly, she is guided onto her back by his mouth slipping down to take one of her nipples into it and his callused hands peeling her shorts, along with her soaked cotton thong, down over the swell of her ass. The freshly washed sheets are soft against her bare back as she lays back and watches Patrick worship her breasts with both his mouth and hands. In the midst of their repositioning, Art took it upon himself to squeeze into the cramped space next to Patrick, slotting himself between him and the wall the bed is pressed against. Without a word of warning, he dips his face down to kiss the breast Patrick is cupping in his hand.

She feels hands everywhere, unsure of which belongs to who. Hands grapple for purchase on her hips, her waist, her breasts, her thighs, and her ass—always moving in search of new territory to claim. Although they have no way of coordinating their actions, they seem to move in sync with one another. The second Art's mouth lowers to kiss down her stomach, which flinches inward at the feeling, Patrick follows. If she weren't so overwhelmed with everything right now, she'd likely laugh at how eager they are to race each other down the length of her body.

Their heads bump every few seconds by the time they reach her parted thighs, but they are too focused on getting a taste of her to care at first. They work with the same synchronized harmony they once had as doubles partners, Art tugging her left leg over his shoulder while Patrick shoves her right up and out until her thigh is flush with her chest. She can't help but silently thank her parents for enrolling her in gymnastics lessons years ago. If they hadn't, this would be a tad uncomfortable.

Finally, Patrick tries to shove Art to the side a little, complaining, "Come on, man, you're with her all the time."

To her surprise, it works for the first moment or so. Art places hot, open-mouthed kisses on her inner thigh as Patrick's tongue makes a broad stroke through her, but it isn't long before he grows dissatisfied with his current role in this impromptu threesome and decides to fight back. He doesn't shove or push like Patrick had, instead, he gently nudges his head against Patrick's until they can share her.

Having Art go down on her alone always feels pleasurable, but having both of their mouths on her at the same time is another sensation entirely. It's indescribable. Spit drools from their lips as they kiss her sodden cunt, taking turns flicking the tips of their tongues against her clit for the sake of hearing her moan over and over. From where she looks down at them, they're nearly kissing each other as they eat her out, and she has to tip her head back onto her shoulders to keep them from seeing her smirk.

When she looks back down, she makes a breathy, gasping sound at the sight of them. Patrick is looking up at her with an intensity no man has ever had when looking at her, not even Art, and there is no ignoring the feeling it stirs in the pit of her abdomen.

"Fuck," she whines and pushes herself harder against their faces, but it's never enough. "More—I need more. Please."

Neither one hesitates. In fact, they seem to form a plan without speaking it aloud. As Art's free hand raises from where it palmed his cock through his boxers, Patrick's lips close around her sensitive, puffy clit and start to suck. The tips of Art's middle and ring fingers brush tentatively against her hole, then, teasingly slow, push inside until they're buried knuckle deep.

The contrast of the men as lovers—Patrick being unforgiving and passionate, Art being tender and desperate—threatens to dizzy her. But Art cannot control himself for too long. He often starts slow and gentle, his eyes flooded with genuine affection for whoever is pinned under his body, then loses his composure the farther things go. By the time he's inside of her, he's almost brutal in how hard he fucks her, and it isn't out of malice, it's out of animalistic lust.

So, as per usual, the pace Art sets to begin with shifts into something harder and faster.

Over the sounds of the fans and music playing on the CD player across the room, a symphony of panting breaths, whines, and wet noises can be heard. It wouldn't surprise any of them if the people who were talking in the hallway could hear it, but it's not like they care right now. 

When she closes her eyes and tries to fall back against the mattress, Patrick stops for a second to murmur, "Don't look away," before getting back to work. Something about the way his voice sounds forces her to submit to his demand without hesitation. There's an edge to it. An underlying promise that he will stop and leave her here to suffer if she doesn't listen, so she does. She watches with a slack-jawed expression at how they work diligently to get her off.

The combined sensations of the fingers pumping into her at a steady, rushed pace and the lips enclosed around her sensitive bud push her closer and closer to the edge of oblivion. Art slips a third finger in and licks between her sticky folds as Patrick sucks her clit relentlessly. Everything they do is motivated by a dire need to take as much of her as they can, as though they can't quite believe what's happening and want to savor it before they wake from the dream. Seeing their desperation only fuels the fire roaring to life inside of her.

They feast on her the way starving men would if presented with food—humming and groaning in satisfaction at the taste of her on their tongues. Through the haze she's fallen under as a result of the present situation, her gaze lifts from where both of their faces are smushed together between her parted thighs to find that they're both humping the mattress. It seems like they don't even realize they're doing it, which, of course, only makes it hotter for her. To think that she wields enough power over them, that she renders them so useless and needy...

Her brows pinch together at the feeling of Art's fingertips finding the sweet spot inside of her.

"Right there," she breathes out in a shaky voice, hand shooting down to grasp anything she can find for support.

It ends up being Patrick's dark hair that is weaved between her fingers and used as her lifeline, tugging nearly every time Art's fingertips find the spot inside of her that makes her throw her head back on the bed and cry out for them. If they didn't have her pinned down, her hips would be lifting to meet every thrust, but she cannot do anything other than take it. Every breath she takes turns rapid, her chest rising and falling dramatically, as the familiar feeling of her impending release grows nearer by the second.

She says, half warning and half pleading with them, "I'm"—The sentence is cut off before it can be said by a high-pitched moan that makes Patrick moan and Art whimper into her—"Please"—What she's pleading for, none of them know, herself included, but she continues to babble nonsensically anyway—"Ah!"

The hand that isn't pulling on Patrick's hair reaches down instinctively for the hand Art grips her thigh with, and she doesn't even need to ask him for it. He entwines their fingers and allows her to squeeze his hand until circulation is lost as she finally feels the wave that was building within her begin to crest.

It hits her harder than she ever knew it could. 

Everything explodes into a sensation of bliss so strong, she loses herself in it. The only thing tying her body down to the earth is the feeling of the hands on her—touching her, fingering her, caressing her, and holding her hand—yet even that is not enough to keep her from floating away into another world entirely for the first few seconds of her orgasm. The muscles in her legs, so exhausted from being forced into a position like this, shake violently with every wave of pleasure rushing through her, and her walls clamp down around the fingers thrusting into her.

If she could live forever in these fifteen seconds, she would, but it soon becomes obvious to her that there's no chance of that happening. Gradually, the intense sensation starts to recede like the tides, and they are both there to help her ride it out to the very end. But once it fully fades, she wriggles beneath them in sensitivity.

Using the hand wrapped up in his hair, Y/N pulls Patrick's mouth away from her clit with a strength he didn't know to expect despite her obvious athletic background, and when Art notices this, he too slows the rhythmic pumping of his fingers inside of her throbbing heat to a stop. Wary of hurting her, he waits another five seconds before slowly pulling them out.

She has gone boneless where she lays on her back with her eyes shut and chest heaving for air.

Knowing she cannot see them, Patrick cuts his best friend a look and jerks his chin in her direction in a silent urging to check on her. Both men start to move at the same time, crawling over her until they reach her face. While Patrick lies beside her and trails his hand up and down her naked, sweat-soaked torso to occupy himself in the time it takes her to recover, Art licks her arousal from his fingers before grabbing her by the chin.

He asks with a teasing inflection, "You still with us?"

Her eyes slowly open to find them both staring at her, and she cannot help the slight smile that comes to her face at this.

"You guys almost killed me," she murmurs. "I think my vision got spotty for a second there."

They allow her another moment to catch her breath and recuperate in the aftermath of what she endured. She takes turns looking at them as she pants for air, laying with her arms above her head and thighs squeezed together due to her current state of sensitivity.

Patrick is the first to break the silence.

"We're not done with you," he says softly, the hand on her chest climbing up until it cradles the side of her neck. "But you know that, don't you?"

"I'd be a little bummed if you were," she replies.

Her head is whipping around at the sound of Art's voice.

"Only a little?"

She pushes herself up from where she's lying supine on the bed, which is now a mess of tangled sheets and sweat, to smack him on the arm. It's all in good fun, of course, and Art is hardly hurt by the playful blow she landed on him. Giggles escape her mouth as they begin to play fight, swatting and trying to pin one another down with Patrick there to spectate. He encourages Y/N to fight dirty, telling her where to strike, which causes Art to curse under his breath and declare him a traitor.

It ultimately ends with her on top, her legs straddling his hips and hands pinning his wrists to the bed. Based on the faraway, longing gleam in his eyes as he looks up at her, Patrick can tell immediately that she only won because Art allowed her to. Because there is something about being pinned to the bed underneath her that turns him on. And she knows it. It's easy to tell by how his erection presses up against her naked center through the fabric of his boxers.

Suddenly, she comes up onto her knees and moves back until she's hovering over his thighs. Her next words are a soft-spoked explanation for why she's reaching for the waistband of his boxers.

"Too much clothes."

But, to her surprise, another pair of hands comes to her aid in shimmying Art's underwear down his hips and legs. The way Patrick sees it, the sooner he helps her get them off, the sooner she'll take his off. And he isn't wrong. As soon as they get the boxers free from Art's body, the garment is tossed to the side without a care in the world. Neither of them looks to see where they landed, they're far too busy leaning in to kiss each other than keep track of their discarded clothing.

Her left hand is wrapped around Art's cock, pumping at a torturously slow pace, as she pulls away from Patrick with a string of saliva connecting their lips.

"Take those off," she says with a pointed look at his crotch.

To say he is sent scrambling to take off his underwear at her command would be an understatement. If this scenario itself wasn't hot enough to make her cunt throb with a desperate need to be fucked, she'd be giggling at his eagerness. But it's hard to find anything funny when she's faced with Patrick standing, one foot on the floor and his other leg braced against the bed at the knee, with nothing to conceal him from her anymore.

It must inflate his ego to heights it has never reached before to see her tongue dart out to wet her lips at the sight of him. The hand stroking Art falters as she admires Patrick's cock. It's about an inch longer than Art's yet equal in girth, curving up a little toward his hair-speckled, defined abdomen. A drop of precome has dripped from his tip, and she has to dip her head forward to get a quick taste. Those pretty lips wrap around him, not pushing down to take the rest of his shaft into her mouth but remaining where she is, flicking her tongue against the slit where the drops of sticky, pearlescent fluid secrete.

A taste is all she allows herself, though.

Her lips pull off of him with a soft popping sound, and she makes sure to maintain eye contact with him as she licks a drop of pre-come off of her top lip.

She turns to look at Art, then Patrick, then back at Art, asking, "How do you want me?"

Seeing that she was a virgin before she started seeing Art, she figures she isn't qualified to direct this in a way that'll be comfortable for everyone involved. No, if she had to bet, Patrick has the most experience between the three of them—with Art following closely behind—and he will have no problem taking control from here based on how he has acted thus far.

To their surprise, it's Art who answers first. 

Patrick was still in a faraway daze from having her mouth around his cock only to be kicked when he was down by the question she asked. How do you want me? God, it's like she's trying to kill them.

"On my lap."

Art pushes himself up from the mattress and repositions so he sits on his knees in front of them, reaching for her hips to pull her closer without a second of hesitation. Her arms instantly reach for his shoulders to steady herself as she maneuvers into the exact position he had in mind. Buried beneath the music that has become white noise to them and the fans running on their highest setting, he thinks he hears her breath hitch in her throat once she's straddling his lap, the tip of his cock nudging against her clit.

Absentmindedly, she starts to grind against him, coating him in the slick arousal that seeps from her, but it's slow. A tease compared to what's coming next.

"Patrick," he says, his voice unwavering despite the excitement that makes his stomach churn. His hand slides down from her neck, caressing her breast as it passes by at a lazy speed, until he takes hold of himself and pumps a few times—as if he isn't hard as a fucking rock already. Over her shoulder, he meets his friend's intense stare. "If you wanna fuck her, you should probably get on the bed."

And while he would usually fire back something equally witty or taunting, Patrick cannot manage to do anything but nod. There's something about seeing Art this way that subdues him. He would like to think that the sole reason he's standing naked in front of his best friend is because there's a girl involved, but that isn't true. Not completely. Although Art would never admit to himself that he feels the same way, there's something familiar about this. Comfortable. Right.

The mattress dips with Patrick's shifting weight, squeaking a little beneath his knees until he settles into place behind her. His chest presses against her back, and his hand reaches up to grab her jaw, guiding her head to tilt so he can kiss her neck while Art lines himself up with her. She feels Patrick's cock pressing against her ass as the broad tip of Art's sinks inside of her.

Having Patrick's face buried in her neck, her shoulder, and back to her neck again provided her and Art a rare second of private intimacy. Her eyes, glazed over with lust, lock into his and refuse to look away. The intensity present in his gaze does not frighten her. If anything, it sends a rush of adrenaline through her body, and she takes a second to admire his soft, wide eyes. She's never mentioned it aloud before, but she has always been fascinated with making eye contact with him due to his right eye. Half of the iris is a striking, clear shade of blue while the other is a warm brown hue.

"Fuck," he says under his breath at the feeling of her squeezing down around him, her tight cunt resisting a little until she relaxes and sinks down until there's nothing left to take.

There's nothing that compares to the feeling of the first thrust he makes.

Every time, it makes her bite her bottom lip hard enough to draw blood. To feel him so deep is almost undoing in itself. Then she feels another hand slide between her legs, and her mind goes utterly blank. Everything outside of this room falls away the second Patrick starts to rub her clit in gentle, languid circles to help her adjust to the stretch of Art inside of her. Patrick's lips lavish every accessible inch of her bare skin with kisses as his friend, with a hand on each of her hips, starts to lift her up and down at an unhurried pace.

Their noses and lips brush without completely touching. When she pushes her face closer to Art's, hoping to lock lips with him, he pulls away for the sake of seeing her grow hot in the face from embarrassment. The mouth worshipping the back of her neck curves up into a smirk in reaction to the games Art plays with her. Who knew he's just as fun in bed as he is out of it? Certainly not Patrick.

She mutters, voice breathy and weak, "Feels so good..."

"Yeah?" Patrick murmurs into her skin and presses his fingers hard against her clit. "Tell me how he feels."

If he could see her the way Art can right now, he'd have to suppress a chuckle at how her brows pinch together at the command. Regardless of her sudden shyness, the words he says only make her ride Art harder. Over her shoulder, Patrick searches for those pale blue eyes only to find them staring through him already. Every smooth rocking motion of her hips pushes her ass against his neglected erection, providing him with a brushing touch before pivoting away again.

"He feels"—she says, chest rising and falling faster—"He's so hard." Her sentences are hardly coherent. "Perfect—mmm—fucking me so deep." One of her hands reaches to tug his down to press it against the southernmost part of her abdomen. "Feel."

With her palm molded over the back of his hand and forcing him to push down on her belly, Patrick can hardly keep from groaning at the subtle bulge of Art's cock moving in and out of her. It's strangely intimate for the three of them to share this experience, but for him to feel every thrust through her is more than he anticipated.

Unable to fight what instinct drives him to, Patrick shifts his hips until the angle of her grinding against him allows his tip to brush up against the hole she and Art have yet to touch. He doesn't do anything more, not without her asking for it, but it's clear to both Art and Y/N that he desperately wants to. All of this physical affection shared between the two of them has made Patrick needy and jealous, so she decides to grant him mercy.

She reaches behind herself blindly to guide him elsewhere, nudging him against the hole Art is already filling. It takes them a couple of seconds to understand what she means in doing this, but, once it clicks, they start to go a little crazy. For the moment, she has stopped bouncing on Art's cock for the sake of allowing Patrick to push in beside him, and he has to surge forward to kiss her. If he doesn't distract himself with a kiss, he'll be too tempted to move.

As Art kisses her deeply, his tongue invading her mouth and caressing her own, Patrick's hand wraps around her throat for leverage with his teeth nipping at her earlobe. His hand wraps around where hers grips his cock to guide it to her entrance, and with his help, they manage to squeeze the tip in.

Her jaw drops at the overwhelming sensation, and the sloppy kiss is interrupted when her head rolls back onto Patrick's shoulder. Art doesn't seem to care, though. Now that her head is tipped back, her neck is exposed for him to mark, and he takes advantage of the opportunity as soon as it presents itself. His lips brush against Patrick's fingers a few times as he kisses her fervently, sucking hard on the delicate skin that has already been bruised by his dear friend.

"You're beautiful," Art whispers into her neck between kisses. "So, so beautiful."

Taking it slow for her sake, Patrick has to force himself into her inch by inch, stretching her little cunt to take far more than she's accustomed to. But, as hard as it is, it works. After another few moments of him pushing in and pausing to let her adjust, he finally bottoms out with his cock flush against Art's. Her walls clamp down around them tightly. They both share a nervous look at this, wondering if they'll manage to last longer than thirty seconds if it already feels this good.

Slowly, she raises her head from where it slumped against Patrick's shoulder and meets Art's intense stare with one of her own. His hand raises to cup the side of her face, his fingers grazing against Patrick's, and he brushes his thumb over her kiss-swollen bottom lip. Every breath taken between the three of them is labored.

Pulling her lip down with his thumb, he asks, "Feeling okay?"

A half-second later, Patrick chimes in.

"If it's too much, you have to tell us."

Not a question, not a request, but a demand. The way he said it left no room for debate, so she nods in compliance and responds with an eagerness that neither man can miss, "M'fine, please, just fuck me..."

Patrick does not need to be told twice.

Having been sidelined for too long and forced to watch them fuck without him, he pulls out slowly, then cants his hips back against her ass with a force that takes her breath away. Amidst this, Art cannot do anything but let his face fall forward into her chest and whine in ecstasy. Just the movement of Patrick's cock rubbing against his with every thrust renders him useless. He knew it would feel better than any sex he'd had before, but this...He'll likely spend the rest of his life chasing the hedonism they are experiencing tonight.

One of her arms reaches behind her to grab Patrick's hip and dig her nails in hard while the other closes around Art's neck to pull both of them as close as can be. And now that he has forced himself back from the edge of a premature release, Art begins to move too, searching for a rhythm that feels right. Soon enough, he manages to find it. Both of their heads lift to look at each other, faces inches apart with their chins pressing on her shoulder, and they work with the same synchronicity they had while eating her out not even fifteen minutes ago.

She turns her head to the side to watch their stare-down as they rut into her like feral animals—utterly insatiable and overcome by their baser instincts. And it's only now that it occurs to her that, underneath it all, they want each other as desperately and pathetically as they want her. Patrick's gaze relentlessly bounces back and forth between Art's eyes and lips, and it makes her smirk to herself. The pleasure of fucking her as one, their pulsing cocks rubbing together in the warm walls of her cunt, has lowered their inhibitions, and the idea of being intimate with one another isn't as daunting as it would be if they were fully aware.

Leaning in to brush her cherry-flavored lips against Art's ear, she whispers, "I want you to kiss him."

The arm looped around the back of his neck pulls tighter in encouragement, bringing his body so close to hers that she can feel his ribs expanding with every breath. His only reaction to her request is a quick glance at her face once she pulls away from his ear with a sensuous lick as a parting gift. It's almost as though he doesn't believe what she's saying, but the reassuring expression she wears tells him that it is real. She truly wants him to see him kiss his best friend, not only for their enjoyment but hers as well.

One second, he's looking at her, and the next, he's slotting his lips against Patrick's with a passion previously only reserved for her. Their hands both grapple for purchase on her sweat-slick body, Art aggressively kneading her breasts and Patrick squeezing her hips for dear life, as they moan into each other's mouths.

As they kiss each other hungrily, Y/N has nothing left to do but bask in the tension swelling inside of her. There's something about how wrong this situation feels to her that makes it so much more arousing. Girls are always raised with the idea that promiscuity lessens their value, and she was not an exception. Having been raised in a family of devout believers, she hadn't kissed a boy until she was seventeen years old. The next person she kissed was Art, and in the time since their first kiss, he has thoroughly corrupted her.

And even as distracted as he is by the all-consuming, wet kiss he's engaged in, Art feels her cunt start to squeeze around their cocks and immediately drops one of the hands on her breasts between her splayed thighs. His finger rubs in tight circles on her clit in hopes that she will reach her end before he and Patrick come pathetically soon.

Her body jerks where it's trapped between them when his fingers make contact, pulling their focus away from each other for the first time since their lips touched. Patrick reaches up to hold her neck in one hand and forces her face to the side so both of them can look at every subtle expression she makes. 

"Don't stop," she pleads, eyes glazed over. "M'so close, Art"—Every merciless thrust elicits a high-pitched whine from her—"Patrick, please!"

The body trapped between them has gone boneless and twitchy, utterly useless at holding herself up or aiding them in any way. But they wear it like a badge of honor. With her face falling forward into Art's neck, she loses her grasp on all that is around her and lets them prop her up to fuck her like a toy existing solely for their gratification.

With one hand cradling the back of her head and the other between her thighs, still dutifully rubbing her clit, Art asks under his breath, "Isn't she fucking perfect?"

Although it was a question meant for Patrick, she can't help how she moans and clenches her walls around them when she hears it. Panting breaths from the three of them flood the sweltering dorm room, but they are too far gone to notice or care how much sweat drips off of their bodies onto one another. It's almost hard to get a firm grip on her as a result of it, but they manage to keep her in place by smushing their bodies as close as physically possible on both sides of her.

Patrick bucks his hips up into her with a recklessness that gives away how close he is to his climax.

He says, "Oh, God, yeah." The hand still collaring her delicate neck squeezes just enough to take her breath away for a second. However, once he released his hold on her, that hand moved to wrap itself up the roots of her hair. "Best pussy I've ever had. So fucking tight, it's like she wants us to come inside her." A pause, then, "Is that what you want?"

A second passes of silence from her, and he sharply tugs back on her hair until her face is no longer hidden in Art's neck. This allows them to drink in the sight of her—face twisted up in pleasure and mouth gaping open.

He asks again, "Is that what you want?"

Her response is immediate.

"Yes, yes, yes," she murmurs incoherently and takes quick turns to look between their faces. If the expressions they wear are any indication, it won't be long before her wish is fulfilled. "I'm—mmm-gonna come! I need you to fill me up, please, please!"

To this, Art rubs her clit faster while maintaining eye contact with her and finally lets go of whatever remaining scraps of self-control he has left. Knowing how close she is pushes them closer themselves, and they start to pound her hard. Hard enough that even they, as soon-to-be professional athletes, have difficulty sustaining this intense degree of exertion.

The arm that she looped around his shoulders is still there, but now her hand is sliding down from the back of Art's neck to explore the toned musculature of his upper back. Under her searching palm, she can feel his muscles contracting and relaxing beneath his pale skin.

To both her and Art's surprise, the world begins to shift in their peripheral vision until he falls flat against the mattress on his back with his length still sheathed inside of her. It takes a second for their brains to catch up with what happened and deem Patrick responsible for the position change. He laid his hands flat on her back and pushed with just the right amount of force to pin Art to the mattress beneath them.

Art says, breathless, "I can feel you squeezing us, baby, just let go."

Hearing those words sets fire to her blood, and that, paired with the toe-curling sensation of them pressing deep inside of her, hitting that spot over and over and over, is what tips her over the edge.

Patrick keeps pulling on her hair to force her head up so that they can feel and watch her come, and what a beautiful sight it is. Art, the lucky bastard, is face to face with her as she tenses up with the onslaught of her climax. But he can see the side of her pretty, flushed face and drink up every little sound she makes, so he doesn't feel left out in any way. No, he is experiencing this right beside Art. They're both trapped inside of her, pumping into her throbbing heat and letting themselves be swept away into oblivion by the feeling of her coming undone.

She digs her nails into Art's skin hard enough to hurt as she whines and writhes between them with each pulse of pleasure that runs through her, and it isn't until she's starting to come down, riding out the high, that she feels them spill into her at the same time. Every sensation attached to it prolongs her orgasm—the throbbing, the spreading warmth, and the dying undulations of their hips that grind their cocks together within her. And beyond the physicality of the act, just knowing that they're filling her to the brim with their come makes her head spin from how fucking hot she finds it.

It isn't long before their thrusts slow into a sensuous grinding as they come down from it together, then come to a full stop to keep from overstimulating themselves. They both are starting to go soft, panting and leaning against her limp body in exhaustion, and know they wouldn't be able to continue even if they wanted to.

Her head is laid on Art’s shoulder with Patrick’s nose nuzzling her neck. There's nothing they can do except remain still and try to recover from the euphoria that has rendered them useless, so that is precisely what they do. With their bodies nearly melting together from the heat, the three of them hold onto each other for support until they manage to return to full consciousness after what they went through.

It isn't until another couple of moments have elapsed that Patrick and Art start murmuring to one another while she remains slumped between them. A second later, both pairs of hands are squeezing her hips; lifting her off of their softening cocks, slowly, gently, and minding her sensitivity.

The three of them collapse side by side on the twin bed, bodies squeezed together like sardines, and she finally comes back down from the clouds her head floated into at the feeling of them touching her. It isn't sexual. No, they wouldn't dream of putting her through anything more than she could handle right now. Both touches are tender and featherlight—Art's hand molds over her breast simply to cup it as they cuddle while Patrick brings her hand up from her side to brush a kiss over her knuckles.

The silence continues to stretch on, then—

"We're definitely gonna have to do that again," she says, turning her head to look at each of them before laying her cheek against Art's shoulder. "That is, if don't mind sharing me."

His gaze softens, the hand cupping her breast ghosting up over her skin until it finds her and Patrick's entwined hands.

"I don't mind one bit."

-

Thank you for reading this! I probably won’t write any more Challengers fics but I saw the movie like five times in theaters and needed to crank this out to satisfy the part of me that is obsessed with the hotel scene. I would really appreciate a comment to let me know what you thought if you’re open to that 🫶🏻 The oral part of this fic was inspired by these two (1) (2) I read, so def give them a read cause they're great!

[ncroissant]

HEAR ME OUT ON SUB! HUSBAND! FRANCIS AND DOPPELGÄNGER READER I BEG OF YOU AJAJSHSBDBJSEHE

sub! husband! francis mosses x dom! doppelgänger! gn! reader

summary: phone sex with needy francis mosses (pt. 2 here)

wc: 1.6k

content warning: nsfw, praise, dirty talk, exhibitionism kinda (security camera on him), slight nipple play, masturbation

author's note: thank u for the great ask anon :) i had so many ideas with this one, but this one stuck the most hehe >:) sorry for literally taking so long on this, writer's block is a bitch!! hope you guys enjoyed this one !! not proofread, minors pls dni !!

it was just a quick one-two, in and out of this man's apartment.

you just needed a reason to stay in this person's apartment until you established your place. you'd act like his loving, doting partner, working their job then living their best life. that was the plan.

but here you were, complaining about their life like it was yours.

things were getting boring in the security office. there was no one to deny because you let your fellow doppelgängers in. plus, it was a weekend so no one wanted to be home today.

in contrast, something you did like about living your copy's life was your new husband. he'd come home earlier from deliveries just to wait for you to come through the front door. dinner ready, table set, plants watered. he was such a sweetheart, always tending to your needs.

unexpectedly, as domineering as he seemed, he was actually more needy in the bedroom. always needing guidance, extra attention and someone to boss him around. that's what got his dick rising.

so when you decided to phone his apartment, knowing it was off day, he was quick to pick up.

"hi dovie! how's work?" he had a little lilt in his voice, acting like he didn't stamper to the phone, knowing it was you. he wasn't one to give out his apartment number.

you chuckled at his speedy response, leaning back in your chair. "hi lover boy. it's going..." you trailed off, checking the window for any customers. "you miss me?"

"mhm. always miss you," he nodded, holding the phone tightly in his grasp. "when're coming home, hm?" like a puppy waiting for its owner to come home.

"miss you too, honey. my shift ends at 6. three more hours to go!" you cheered sarcastically, staring at the clock as you watched the hands tick. "you alright all by yourself?" you asked, pulling out a notepad.

you had a habit of doodling when francis spoke, he always loosened up when it came to you. "kinda. i miss you lots though. think 'm gonna read a book later," he rambled, though there was a distinct sound of rustling on his side.

"is that so? what book where you thinking of reading?" you placed the phone between your chin and shoulder, trying to find a pen. it was silent for a bit, but the rustling persisted. "francie? you still there?"

"oh, sorry," he cleared his throat, almost as if he was snapping himself out of a trance. "mmm, i-i don't know..." he was huffing softly, you could almost feel him breathing in your ear through the phone.

you were quick to put two and two together. "francie...are you doing something you shouldn't be doing?"

he almost let out a whimper, the rustling making much more sense. "'m sorry..." he sighed, the noisiness of his end coming to a full stop. "i-i was touchin' myself..."

as if it wasn't obvious already: his panting, his rustling. "'s okay, honey. do you need help?" he flushed at your suggestion, toying with the zipper on his slacks.

"b-but you're at work. don't wanna distract you," he mumbled, his thighs squeezing together at the thought of you guiding him to an orgasm.

"work's slow today. entertain me, honey," you chuckled, your laugh making his ears tingle. "want me to help you cum, hm?"

he nodded, forgetting that you couldn't see him. the blush on his face travelled from his ears to his cheeks, down to his neck and back. it was a sight you'd pay to see. "is your cock still in your hand, honey?"

"no, i was just rubbing through my pants..." he shyly confessed, feeling his bulge throb.

"m'kay, take off your pants and underwear and hold out your cock," you instructed, completely abandoning your doodles. "tell me what you were doing to yourself while i was talkin' to you, honey."

you heard shuffling against, fabric against skin. "mmm, well, hearin' y'r voice made my tummy feel funny. then i felt my cock feel tight in m'pants, hngh," he explained, his zipper quickly freeing his cock.

"s-so then i jus' started touching myself a lil'. just through my pants 'n shirt, nothin' else!" he defended himself, but his revelation made you smirk.

"playing with your chest too, hm?" you repeated, a wide grin plastered on your face. "is your cock in your hand now?"

"mhm!"

his hand was gripping at the base of his cock, squeezing it to get some sort of friction. he was kneeling on the couch, legs slightly spread, his balls rubbing against the cool leather underneath.

"why don't you start making yourself feel good, honey? stroke it nice and slow for me, yeah?" you cooed.

he did as you said, no questions asked, stroking at his already hard cock as slowly as he could. "'n then why not you keep playing with your chest for me too? since you had no problem doing it earlier."

"mngh...o-okay...!" he squeaked, his hips rutting into his hand. he quickly placed a hand on his chest, rubbing his nub with a waving hand motion. "o-ooh! 's so-"

"you really like that, huh? like when people play with your perky chest," you taunted, feeling your own chest feel heated.

you almost wanted to join him, but the security cameras in your office made you think otherwise. "i wanna go up there and fuck you, honey. you like that too?" you whispered, making him moan.

"mhm, mhm! c-come up, hn, please!" he begged, his hand picking up its pace. his slick was sticking to his hand, slowly gathering at the tip of his cock. "miss you, dovie! miss you lots, aagh!"

you could only imagine how pathetic he looked. legs spread, weeping cock in hand, nipples poking through his shirt. he would be waiting for you so patiently, waiting for you to come home with his cock rubbing against the carpet floors.

you felt yourself leaning too far forward, accidentally pressing a random button on your panel. francis' moans filled your ears, but a certain image popped up on the security camera feed.

your husband on full display.

"francie, can you look to your left a little?" you ushered him to look towards the camera in disbelief at your discovery.

he obeyed your orders almost instantly, making you smile. he was in the direction of the camera, but not looking at it directly. he was completely unaware of the it, as much as you were.

but despite the strangeness of it all, you wanted to use it to your advantage.

"lay on your back f'me, honey. make sure your legs are spread wide open," you instructed, watching him meekly get into position. "i want that shirt unbuttoned and your pants to your ankles."

he hastily got undressed, his hand cupping his left breast. you wanted to cum at the sight of your pretty husband all open up from you, waiting for your next command.

"what's next, dovie? what do you want to do to me?" he innocently asked, his freehand hooking under his thigh to pull it up to his chest.

you grinned evilly, looking at the lewd position he was in, fantasizing what you should do next. "i want you to keep stroking at your cock, and playing with your chest."

and he followed instructions so well. he'd stick his fingers in his mouth before rolling his spit covered digits around his nipple. then he'd stroke at his cock, the desperation to cum more evident on his face.

the way his brows knits and sweat rolled down his temples made it clear that he was close. all this while the phone was wedge between his shoulder and ear, making every moan very audible.

"don't slow down, honey. i need you to keep stroking until you cum." you scolded, seeing how tired his wrist was getting as he got closer.

"o-oooh 'kay! 'm t-tryin' my best, haaagh! hand's getting a lil' tired, dovie, mmngh!" his lewd moans slipped out, as his hips shook from the speed he was stroking at.

his eyes were screwed shut, drool dripping down his lips at the thought of you praising him. "'m cumming soon, dovie! h-have to cum soon, unngh!" he panted, fucking into his fist.

you chuckled at his desperation, closely looking at your husband squirming on the couch, curtains wide open for the world to see the little slut you were hiding away.

"'m not seeing you pinching your nipples, honey," you scolded, making him tense up.

he did what you asked for, tugging at the tips of his nubs, but your comment made his dick tighten. "hnnnghh! y-you can see me?" his back arched against the couch, the view of his dick getting closer to the overhead security cam.

"o-oooGHH! c-CUMMING! cumming, dovie! 's coming out, hnnnghhh!" he exclaimed, cum shooting out of his tip, staining the entirety of his face and the couch.

although the feed was in black and white, you could see the splotches of cum that coated your couch and the way his clothes darkened from the wetness.

"such a good boy, honey. did so well f'me," you praised, chuckling at the way he twitched in his spot, unmoving. "you g'na wait until i get up there and fuck you properly, huh?"

he nodded mindless, huffing loudly into the phone.

suddenly, someone walked up to the window. "entry request and id, please," you disregarded the lewd image in front of you, returning back to your job.

he felt himself cum again just from the sight of your professionalism. you were so sexy when you were on the job. his orgasm came too quicky, his cock throbbing at the loss of cum.

"n-need you to f-fuck me, dovie, hn..." francis moaned into the phone, making you blush. you mindlessly looked through the person's papers, paying no mind to accuracy.

you let them through with no questions before gripping at the phone. "'m leavin' early. just for you, francie," you growled into the phone, feeling yourself get worked up.

"be ready in 5. i'm comin' up."

[mills-73]

Ok first off I love love love your writings like it just hit the g-spot u know LOLOLOL

ANyway I wanna request you for a Ford x Reader fic where the reader sneaks under his desk as he’s writing / reading smth and gives him the gawk gawk 3000. Absolutely devouring him and Ford just losing it slowly like his hand writing slowly losing it’s curves / getting harder to focus on the paragraph 😋

Thank you so much for this hehehe

i got ya

Ward Willing

Ford has a tendency to overwork himself some nights. You’ve been horny bored all night and he’s been down in his lab, so you do the only thing you can think of to get his attention.

Stanford Pines x reader

TAGS: 18+!! MDNI, smut, blowjobs, gender-neutral reader

─── ⋆⋅ ♰ ⋅⋆ ───

Ford Pines is probably one of the most hardest working men you know.

He’s always cooped up in that damn lab of his, day or night, and it’s never really bothered you up until recently. He’d always come to bed a decent time—and if he was feeling up to it, he’d take care of you. Lately, he’s been working late into the night, and sometimes you didn’t have the energy to wait up for him.

Tonight, however, you need him. But he’s still working.

You toss and turn in the bed, slipping your hand down between your thighs to try and get yourself off, but it doesn’t work. You want him, right here, right now.

You groan into your pillow, looking up at the door with an idea a minute later. You smirk to yourself, crawling out of bed and hurry to the vending machine, punching in the code.

Ford doesn’t notice that you’re standing at the doorway, completely engrossed in writing. He started a new journal after the summer was over and he’s determined to fill it with all kinds of fascinating research. Usually, you’d be curious, but right now all you can see is him, those fingers, that wonderful thing between his thighs…

His hair is messy, glasses slipping down the slope of his nose, and his fingers impatiently tap at the table. His pen is stuck between his lips, lightly chewing on the end of it. (You don’t know how many pens he’s ruined since you’ve met him, but you know it’s a lot).

You walk up behind him, hands reaching out to rest in his shoulders. He jumps slightly, but slouches into your touch when he hears your voice. “Stressed, baby?”

He moans lazily in response but continues to write. You dig your thumbs into his shoulder blades, applying a small amount of pressure, just enough to see him falter a little, but his attention is still strictly on his task.

You roll your eyes, stepping around to the side of him. “Are you coming to bed soon?” You note the amount of coffee cups pushed out of his way. He had a weird thing about reusing cups, which resulted in his desktop having multiple ones scattered about at all times.

Ford gives you a nod but you know he’s running on autopilot right now.

Your gaze falls to his lap, then to the space under the desk, a mischievous smile slowly spreading across your face.

Dropping down to your knees, you quickly crawl underneath his desk, settling between his thighs. You push them open a little so you can be a bit more comfortable, your hands coming up to rub him.

“W-What are you doing?” Ford breathes, rolling back in the chair. His eyes are wide and his face is flushed.

You flash him your teeth, your fingers deftly playing with the zipper of his jeans. “Go back to writing, Ford,” you whisper.

“What? No. You know I can’t focus when you’re touching me like that.”

The bulge in his jeans is already becoming more apparent by the second, your stomaching fluttering in anticipation. While you’re able, you unbutton his jeans, dragging them down his hips with a little help from him and letting them pool around his ankles, his underwear following suit.

Your mouth waters at the sight of him. He’s not entirely big length wise, but he’s thick, which makes up for the lack of a few inches. The tip is a shade of pink that matches his lips perfectly, and you lean forward to press a delicate kiss to it. He shutters from above.

“I don’t care. Go back to your work.”

He gives you a curious look, but does as you say. You hear him click his pen a couple times, the soft sound of ink meeting paper, and you giggle softly.

You poke your tongue out again, licking a long stride from base to tip. His thighs tense at the friction, but settle again. Your mouth wraps tenderly around the pink skin, the salty taste of precum exploding over your tongue. You moan quietly, the vibrations causing him to drop his pen for a quick second.

His breathing becomes audible, the sound of a soft whimper reaching your ears. You grin around his cock and sink lower, taking more and more until your nose is pressing against his navel. You hold your position there for a moment, popping off with a small gasp.

From above, Ford hasn’t been able to write more than three words.

You grin, wrapping your hand around the base as your mouth wraps around him again. You bob your head slowly, running your tongue against the underside of his cock in ways you know drive him crazy.

His leg twitches, hand reaching below the desk to burry it in your hair. He plays with the strands, pushing your head down slightly, silently begging for more. You can’t help but keen in response to his touch, obliging the request.

You flatten your tongue against the frenulum, curling it just enough to draw another whimper from the man above. Your ego blooms, prideful as you continue your ministrations.

Ford groans. “Doll, I-I can’t—” he cuts off with a moan when you suckle at the tip.

You lean back a little, gathering all the spit in your mouth and slowly letting it fall out of your mouth over Ford’s cock, the substance rolling over the tip and down his length. Your hand pumps him once, twice, a third time before you swallow him to the back of your throat.

He rolls his hips upward, causing you to gag at how deep he is. His fingers tangle in your hair, grabbing at your head and pulling up and down.

“I’m—fuck, dollface,” he groans.

You hear the sound of his pen falling, his journal snapping shut, before he leans back in his chair, eyeing you from your position. His eyes are glossy, glasses crookedly hanging on his face, and his cheeks a beautiful shade of cherry. He always looks so fucking sexy when he’s needy for you.

“I need more, baby. Please give me more.”

You nod weakly, your jaw slack as you bob your head. Spit dribbles down your chin, another moan muffled by the intrusion in your mouth.

It’s quite obscene, really. But you enjoy it nonetheless.

His quiet whimpers turn into rough moans, waves of iron-hot pleasure dripping down your spine as you work your mouth over the sensitive flesh, your own sounds a little garbled by the sheer amout of spit building under your tongue.

You flick the tip of the flesh, your teeth grazing softly against the underside, adoring the way Ford shivers beneath you. It’s vulgar; you enjoy it a bit too much, your own arousal causing you to lose yourself in the blissfulness of it all.

You pop off with a throaty moan, a string of spit connecting your bottom lip to the tip of his cock. You meet his hungry gaze for a moment, smiling sweetly at him.

“I want you to start coming to bed at a decent time. Or I’ll be down here every night to interrupt your work,” you say, lazily stroking his cock.

He huffs a laugh. “Don’t tempt me with a good time, doll.”

You roll your eyes at him, slipping him back into your mouth. This time you pick up your pace, jerking him off in tandem of your tongue rolling all over. He preens at the friction, his head lolling back on his chair, mouth parted to allow a plethora of whimpers and moans to escape the back of his throat.

His chest heaves, all six of his fingers grabbing at your hair. “Fuck, fuck. I’m gonna cum, doll. Please don’t stop.”

At his confession, you go harder, slurping and sucking, his grip teetering on the edge of blatantly painful. He catches your eyes again, the sight alone making him explode in your mouth, whimpering softly.

The taste of his cum is salty yet sweet and you swallow it all, a generous smile on your face as you pop your lips off the sensitive tip. He shutters, moving his hand from his hair to the side of your face, his thumb gently stroking your cheek.

“That was amazing, baby. Your mouth never ceases to impress me.”

You blush. “Thank you…”

You slide out from underneath the desk, the man fixing his pants before standing up as well. In a quick motion, he has you pinned against the edge of the wood, his mouth on yours, devouring you whole. You whimper into his mouth.

“Now,” he nips at your bottom lip, “your turn.”

~

hope you enjoyed, ty for reading!!

[therantsofawriterrr]

Hey love 💝 would you think about doing a Bucky Barnes imagine where he's madly in love with Wanda's best friend, who often visits the Compound. One day you're also over seeing Wanda but she's still in a Meeting or something, so you end up alone in the living area when Bucky gets there after training. First he doesn't notice you staring at him all shower-wet and half naked but eventually he notices you and gets all shy. Just until you simply walk up to him and kiss him, which he happily returns. You both end up in his bedroom, making love and cuddle afterwards where you both finally admit your feelings for each other. In the end you fall asleep naked and cuddled together. And that's just how Wanda and the others find you after searching for you the whole day. I hope it's not weird and okay with you 🫶🏼🩷 thank you !

Warnings: use of l/n and y/n once (never thought I'd ever be typing that, but ig there's a first time for everything), SMUT UNDER THE CUT MDNI, fluff too hehe, anyway tell me if i missed anything

A/N: Hello, sorry for the vvvvvv late reply, i changed stuff a bit i think, i hope you like it🫶🩷

Being the absolute SIMP he is, Bucky would absolutely always be asking Wanda about you, if you'd be visiting, and just trying to fish for information.

Being Wanda's bestie meant having a good rapport with the Avengers, the security guard and the receptionist. You were there pretty often, so even FRIDAY could tell it was you so she just gave you entry.

You always did whip out your phone to open the camera in the elevator though, just in case your hair was weird or something was stuck in your teeth. It was usually likely that the adorable but dangerous Bucky Barnes was there amongst the others, and even though you didn't talk much, you'd developed a crush on him because of his sweet clumsy antics around you.

So, just like any other day, you were in the elevator, expecting Wanda to come running over to hug her as soon as the doors slid open. But, surprisingly, there was no one.

Even as you walked out, there wasn't anyone on the couch watching TV, or anyone in the kitchen getting a coffee or anything.

"Hey, FRIDAY?" You called out.

"Yes, Miss L/N?" The machine replied.

"Where is everyone?" You asked next.

"Most of them are in a meeting, Miss L/N. It will take some time to finish, I'm afraid."

"Oh," you said, looking around the empty room.

"Shall I call Miss Maximoff and tell her you're here?"

"No, that's okay," you dismissed, batting a hand as you plopped down on the couch. "I can wait."

After about ten minutes, you got bored. You didn't feel like scrolling or playing on your phone, so you just sighed, setting your elbows on your knees and your face in your hands.

Some heavy footsteps made your ears perk up though, and you turned your head to look at the person who'd just walked into the hall.

And then, immediately, your mind produced just one sound.

AWOOOGA!

Because apparently, Bucky in low-slung grey sweatpants and nothing on top made you think of that.

Bucky, on the other hand, wasn't able to breathe because of the endearing scene that was your cheeks squished in your own hands.

He had the urge to peck the lips that were open in a small o, to trace the shape of those soft lips.

You looked a bit shocked, and for good reason. Case in point:

He was half naked. His nipples were staring into your soul. You liked it.

There was one drop of water that was enjoying its journey down from his Adam's apple to the valley of his pecs and then his abs to a place that you'd only imagined on lonely nights.

Low. Hanging. Grey. Sweatpants.

So, nobody could blame you for staring, and wanting to lick his abs, which were still shining from the sheen of water. He was probably straight out of the gym shower after training, your short-circuited brain registered.

It still wasn't fair that he had a body that any warm-blooded human being would want to be crushed by.

Bucky finally noticed her staring at him, and through the haze of his imagination, he realized he wasn't wearing a shirt. A flush of red went up his body as he burrowed his hands in his pockets shyly, making them go a little bit lower, making your mouth water.

Your mind produced another visual, licking down that happy trail and then sucking him off like he was a lollipop. You couldn't help but brush your thighs together, feeling yourself get a little wet.

Bucky noticed the little action and his cheeks warmed even more with shyness and a little pride, because he found that he affected you just as much as you affected him.

"Like what you see, doll?" He asked, trying to hide his shyness behind a cocky smile.

Caught red handed, your eyes immediately flitted to his, blue eyes shining with adoration and just a little embarrassment.

You felt a rush of boldness as you got up, slowly making your way to him as his eyes widened, gulping at the way your hips swayed with so much intent in them.

When you reached him, you threw your arms around his neck, crossing your wrists behind his neck, your nails and fingertips, brushing against his skin.

Those featherlight touches were unintentional, but it lit his body on fire.

"Yeah," you whispered, tipping your head up to look into his wide, curious but scared eyes. "I like what I see."

Then, you did something that you only dreamed of every night.

You closed your eyes and pressed your lips to his. His eyes widened even more for a second, before he bent his head down and kissed you back, a hand pressing on the small of your back, and the other going around your waist.

He pressed your body to his as the sweet kiss you were hoping for turned into a heated one, as his tongue swiped at your bottom lip, asking for entrance which you granted.

His tongue made you forget every thought as he played with yours, exploring your mouth as your hands played with the small hairs that ended on the back of his neck.

He groaned into your mouth, his hands going to knead your ass as he reluctantly parted for breath.

"Fuck, baby," he breathed against your lips. "You taste like candy."

You just hummed as you pressed your lips to his jaw softly, making him squeeze your ass. "You wanna take this elsewhere?" You asked huskily before nibbling on his earlobe.

He growled as he kissed her again, this time his actions were almost desperate.

He picked her up, her thighs going around his hips as her ankles crossed at his ass.

As soon as they reached his bedroom and the door was closed with a kick, he lay her down on his bed and started undressing her, just barely stopping himself from ripping it all off.

He wanted you naked and bare, and he was desperate for it.

As soon as everything was off, he just took a minute to stare at you, all spread for him.

His mouth watered as his eyes roamed, lingering at your pretty breasts and your wet pussy.

His hot gaze made you squirm, your pussy starting to drip a bit and the sight made him scramble to get the sweatpants off.

His pretty cock sprang out against his abdomen, and good god, you needed him inside you, foreplay be damned.

He still did make sure to stretch you out a bit with his fingers, scissoring two of them inside you just so that he could make it hurt less.

"Shhh, now doll, I don't wanna hurt you," he said, tone low and soft as his thumb drew circles on your clit.

You were just a moaning mess when he finally rolled on a condom and rubbed his head against your soppy folds and pretty little clit.

He couldn't help but double over when he was almost fully in you, your cunt sucking him in, clamping around him so tight that he almost shoved the rest of it in.

"Bucky, oh my god," you gasped out as he rolled his hips and worked himself in you till those crisp hairs at his base were tickling at your clit.

He bit his lip as he laid down his full weight on you, head lovingly resting on the valley between your breasts, hips thrusting in slow, leisurely thrusts.

He won't deny the fact that he had imagined this every night in the shower before he retired to bed.

He also won't deny the fact that he'd imagined being rough with you. Had seen both against the wall as he thrust into you like a depraved man.

But at the moment, he preferred this. Slow, soft, with your breasts on either side of him as he leisurely thrust into you, hitting that gooey little spot as he did.

You were whining and moaning, your hands running through his hair and rubbing soothingly at his back.

He lifted his head and shifted up a bit to capture your lips with his, both his hands starting to knead your breasts, rough palms brushing against your already pointy nipples.

His thrusts sped up just a little, his lips kissing down to give your nipples the attention they were begging for.

He was alternating between both peaks, hips never relenting, never stopping as his hands played with both breasts.

You both started moving urgently as both neared your climax, your pussy clenching around him, almost making it hard for him to move.

But he only kissed you again, tongue playing with yours as his hand went down to brush the little bundle of nerves.

Your legs started quivering as he started drawing tight little figure eights, holding back and waiting for you to cum first.

You cried out as you went over the edge, thighs squeezing at his hips as your arms hugged his shoulders.

He gave you three more sharp thrusts before his orgasm, burying his face into your neck with a long, drawn out moan.

A few minutes later, after discarding the condom and cleaning you and himself up, he was getting in bed beside you, draping his arms around you and tangling his legs with yours under the covers.

You giggled when you felt him press your body against his with a satisfied hum. He looked down at you with a cute little smile, feeling sated and free and light.

"You're beautiful," he whispered, pecking your nose.

You giggled again, your happiness just bubbling out of you. He started pressing soft, featherlight kisses at every inch of your face, wanting to hear that laugh that he adored so much.

"Oh my god, stop," you said between laughs, wiggling under the covers.

He chuckled with you, looking at you with a look that melted your heart. "I love you, Y/N. I think I've loved you for a while now."

The confession made your heart skip a beat, a big smile on your face. "I love you too, Bucky."

Then, you both kissed again, this one sweet with the promise of unconditional love.

Meanwhile, outside his room, there was a bit of commotion.

FRIDAY had notified Wanda of your arrival when the meeting had ended, but strangely enough, you weren't there.

She and the others weren't particularly worried about you, but still, you have to be here somewhere, right?

After looking everywhere, they started wondering if you'd left, before Steve found Bucky's door open, just a smidge of a crack.

He opened the door and froze, his eyes widening with surprise as his mouth fell open with soft gasp. The gasp then turned into a relieved and wonderful smile, his eyes softening.

Sam, thinking he could get another picture of sleeping, angel-face Bucky for blackmail ran to stand beside him with his phone in hand.

But then, when he saw the scene of you two sleeping, he decided that this was much better for blackmail, grinning from ear to ear, even as he thanked the heavens for his friend's happiness.

[merakiui]

time loop angst where floyd is destined to live the same day over and over with you, and he can't understand why that is. it's such an unremarkable day, too. just the two of you living life. it was fun the first few times, but now he's lost count of how many days have been lived in repetition and it's so boring. the only thing that makes it bearable is his little shrimpy. he's happy you're here with him, stuck in this insufferable time loop, otherwise he's sure he'd have gone insane from the repetition.

it isn't until floyd realizes that, outside of the loop, you're gone. you've been gone for years, and you're never coming back.

suddenly, the happy days aren't so pleasant. suddenly, he's forced to confront the very thing he's been avoiding.

the loop will end once floyd finally accepts it and moves on, intending to heal. he's been so stuck in his own head, unable to let go of the ghost of you, that he's put himself in this loop.

the worst part of it is that you don't know anything. the shrimpy he wakes up to every morning is so very tangible. you smile, you kiss him, you hug him. your heart is beating in your chest. you're breathing, alive in his arms like everything's okay.

floyd knows it's not right to stay in the loop, even though he desperately wants to. it'll only hurt him more, but goodness does it feel wonderful to embrace you after years apart. half of him doesn't want to move on. it's difficult to get out of bed when he's grieving. it's difficult to find the motivation to breathe and eat and do everything that often came normal to him before your passing. he has to try.

even when he feels stagnant, crushed and heartbroken, the world is always continuing in its usual current.

he has to try. it's all he can do. move forward and try even when it's a challenge.

the next time floyd wakes his bed is empty. he sits up in a dark room, the curtains closed to block out the sun. someone's been ringing his doorbell for what's felt like hours. he peers around the room. you're not here.

the loops's been broken.

floyd drags himself out of bed. the floor is covered in clutter: trash and dirty laundry and crumbs. he should clean that. you used to gently nag him when things got too messy, and he'd always listen. he's not sure how many days or weeks or months he's lived in the same t-shirt and sweatpants, so it's refreshing when he finally strips them off and showers. he doesn't think much. he moves on autopilot. the water feels nice.

the doorbell keeps ringing. floyd, simmering in his irritation, throws it open, ready to deliver a hard punch to whoever's stupid enough to stick around and bother him on this unremarkable monday morning.

jade stands on the other side of the door, holding a bag from the local bakery and a container of what looks to be homemade takoyaki. azul is just a few inches behind, fidgeting awkwardly on his feet. he's clutching a bouquet. it's a happy one, unlike the many mourning arrangements that were sent by friends and family in the wake of your passing.

floyd blinks at them, confused. "what's up?"

they stare back, owlish. azul clears his throat. "you... you're doing all right?" his tone is careful, treading lightly.

"you haven't been answering your phone," jade adds gently, cluing him in on one of the reasons for their concern and, thus, their arrival.

"oh. yeah, my bad. s'not charged. kinda forgot to keep up with it." floyd cards his hand through his hair, exhaling a heavy sigh. "didn't feel like talkin' to anyone, so i didn't want anyone callin'."

"would it be okay if we step in? we've brought your favorites."

floyd glances into his apartment for a minute and then back at jade and azul. he steps aside, shrugging. "be my guest."

he's going to try. for your sake. for jade's sake. for azul's sake. for his mother and father's sake. for his own sake.

he's going to try. one day at a time.

sitting at the table, eating takoyaki and chatting about simple, mundane things, floyd feels peace for the first time in years.

he's going to try. one day at a time.

[scoutswritingcorner]

Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap

Alastor x GN!Reader

TW: Talks of murder, Alastor being Alastor. Alastor realized a lot of things.

A/N: I want to be buddies with this man. Was I listening to AC/DC….maybe, This started as a headcanon thing but it turned into something else. Enjoy!

Your friendship with Alastor. 

You met Alastor when you both were alive! You somehow got his attention and then a year or two of you both annoying one another you’re good friends! Best friends even! He wouldn’t say that but you know it. 

Both of you are such  fucking menaces, while he is much more of a gentleman and very put together. You are somewhat the opposite. You are put together but it’s like you hate fancy dress clothes and you’d rather be running around with a gun in hand stealing from poor fools who didn’t look twice at you. He will forever chew you out for your thieving and how underdressed you are! Where are your manners and why are you laughing at him? He didn’t say anything funny! But he can’t help to think how your smile and laugh suits you.

You walked in on him while he was killing a poor fool one night and instead of running away and freaking out, you looked around and smirked “Can I steal his shit?” He rolled his eyes and waved his bloody hand towards you, “You can’t find anything else to do?” He snarled out easily killing the man below him, he could easily kill you but why would he need to now? You obviously didn’t care, “You know the saying, old friend. Another man’s trash is another man’s treasure~” You cooed out looking through the stuff on the fireplace mantle.

“Don’t make it so obvious.” He hissed out, looking around. “Were you followed?” He asked, making you stop and turn to him, hand on your chest. “Alastor! Are you doubting me? Here I thought you loved me.” You teased making him send you a half hearted glare, “Love is a strong word.” You rolled your eyes, “Right… No one dared to follow me.”

Another thing is when he had to hide bodies, you happily helped him and stood guard to make sure no one followed. He was grateful but he’d be caught redhanded before he said that to your face.

Once he died, you were inconsolable for weeks on end until you crossed paths with some unfortunate souls who sadly got you good before their death. You bled out in some alley way near his favorite speakeasy, you wouldn’t be found until the morning.

BUT IN HELL-

You were an uncontrollable force to be reckoned with, you still kept your spirits high especially when you got a little tipsy or the money was good enough. It took decades for your ass to find Alastor, you were so caught up in your own adventures you just forgot about finding your best friend. Until it got boring and you saw a flier for the ‘Hazbin Hotel’...it couldn’t hurt to look for him there, besides he was fucked up and he could be there to see everything fall to pieces.

So when you arrived and you saw the tall deer man, his smile stretching wider into the grin you could tell from a mile away. “Oh it’s you,” He hummed, making you roll your eyes. “Oh please, Alastor. Don’t act like you weren’t excited to see me. Who else would be able to deal with your insane ass,” You replied looking around, “You missed me, don’t you dare deny that fact.” He scoffed and rolled his eyes. “I’m not denying anything, Old friend. I just simply thought you wouldn’t look for me.” He walked over, circling you to see if anything changed or was he trying to find a weak point? “See you keep thinking that and I keep reminding you that you are stuck with me forever, there is no escaping that.” 

He’s happy you found him but he’s got to keep up appearances, later that night you're sitting with him in the parlor sipping on some whiskey he grabbed from the bar as you tell him all of your stories. It goes silent for a while and it’s comfortable for some part. “How did you die?” He asked one moment and it truthfully caught you off guard. “...Like you said, I’ll get too confident and end up dying on the streets.” You whispered the alcohol on your tongue tastes gross now. He didn’t gloat, or if he was he was doing it silently, “Tried to go after a rich fella. He had a gun and got me good in the stomach that was before I killed him, ran off before I could take anything. Died in an alley near your favorite speakeasy. Guess I was looking for you even after all this time.” You looked down at the glass and sighed, he was too silent for your liking but he was always like that. Why did it affect you now?

He didn’t say much the rest of the night or the next morning. Only gave you a nod when you’d left.

Alastor couldn’t control you much like he could with Husk and Nifty, he couldn’t drag you along with his shenanigans. He could try but it would fail. You were a creature of habit and a stubborn one at that. You left by a certain time to get your fill of thieving, killing and messing with people before coming back to him. 

Yet, you still wore that smile on your face and laughed as loudly as you could when something was funny enough for you. He wasn’t used to that, people should be miserable down in this cesspool. But you weren’t why weren’t you miserable? It was something that plagued him all night long.

He adored your smile and laughter.

[chubbyreaderwriter]

Joke Pt 3

Young Sirius Black x Chubby/Plus Size Reader

Imagine:  Sirius really likes you but his reputation makes you think he’s using you for a joke. He has to prove his feelings for you but it goes horribly wrong.

Word Count: 2.7K

Warnings: None

Masterlist 

Part 1  Part 2

previously...

Now that you were pretty much alone again, you pulled out the earrings once more to admire them, holding them in your hands and you had to urge to bring them up to hold against your chest. You’d never received such a gift before, you loved them. Maybe he really didn’t mean to hurt your feelings?

______________________________________________________________

A bored sigh left your mouth as you waited in the Gryffindor common room for Lily to return. Everyone had left to go to Hogsmeade but you hadn’t gotten your permission slip signed in time and couldn’t go. You hadn’t stuck around long, not wanting to cause a scene by arguing with the professor. You said goodbye to Lily and walked back to the common room to lie down on the couch. There was only a couple of third years around, everyone else was at classes or on trips out. You supposed it was going to be a very lonely couple of hours. You turned over to face the fireplace, watching the flames was calming and it relaxed you. You jumped when you felt something touch your leg, pulling them closer to you and spinning your head around to see Sirius standing next to you, his hands in the air.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to frighten you, was just wondering if I could sit here.” You didn’t say anything but you moved to sit up so he could sit on the other end of the couch. You bent your legs up towards you and looked at the couch arm, “What are you doing here?” Sirius scoffed out a laugh, “What? I’m not allowed to be in my own common room?” You rolled your eyes, “You know what I meant, why aren’t you on the trip with everyone else?” Sirius shrugged his shoulders, “Parents wouldn’t sign my permission slip.” You glanced over in his direction, “That sucks.” He made a noise of indifference, “No, not really, I wasn’t really going to do anything there anyways.”

You nodded and turned to face him properly, having to turn your head every couple of seconds was hurting your neck a little, “So what are you gonna do until your entourage come back?” Sirius chuckled and shrugged his shoulder again, “I’m not quite sure, how about you?” You sighed in thought, “Well, I was thinking about going to the library to do some homework.” Sirius blurted out, “No, that’s boring. I’ve got an idea. Wait here.” You were confused as Sirius jumped up from the couch and ran upstairs to the boys dorms. You didn’t want to just leave, that would be kind of mean, even if he deserved it. You weren’t exactly sure why you were being friendly to Sirius after what he did, but you had a feeling you were going to regret it. 

You waited there for five minutes before Sirius finally returned, with a piece of fabric in his arm that looked like a cloak and a plain piece of parchment. You gave him a hesitant look, “What are you expecting to do with those?” Sirius just grinned and waved you over as he started walking out of the common room. You groaned as you got up and followed him, wishing you hadn’t said anything to him now. You should’ve known he would eventually rope you into one of his pranks. You’d only took one step outside and you looked around but didn’t see Sirius anywhere. He was right here, where did he go? You went to go walk down the stairs when you felt a tap on your shoulder behind you. You turned around but there was nothing there. 

Just as you were starting to get creeped out, you felt something get thrown over your head and suddenly Sirius was standing right in front of you, “Hello gorgeous.” You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop yourself from blushing at how close the two of you were, you were an inch away from touching. You tried to step back but Sirius put his arm around you to keep you close, “Careful, wouldn’t want to cloak to fall off and reveal us sneaking around would you?” While Sirius wouldn’t mind it at all if he was caught with you so close to him, you were worried what people might think about you considering what happened a couple weeks ago with the badges. You sighed but stayed close to him, “Where did you get this anyway?” “It’s James’, some kind of family trinket or something. Comes in really handy for pranks, and so does this.” He showed you the piece of parchment and you sighed, taking it into your hands, “And how does a piece of parchment help you with pranks?” Sirius reached over to tap it with his wand, “I solemnly swear I am up to no good.” 

You looked in awe as text started to show up on the parchment, and then confusion, “Who are these guys?” Sirius grinned, clearly excited, “They’re us, me and the guys. I’m Padfoot, Remus is Mooney, James is Prongs and Peter is Wormtail.” You hummed, “So this shows you where everyone is in the castle? No wonder you lot get away with so much.” Sirius nodded, pointing to a corridor where you could see a couple of teachers passing then turned to face each other. While you were snooping, Sirius saw a teacher heading this way and covered your mouth, pushing you against the wall. You felt your heart racing and you blushed but once you saw the professor walk past you two, you calmed down. Sirius moved away from you, “Are you okay?” You looked down and nodded, “Yeah I’m fine.” Sirius could tell there was something up with you but didn’t question it, taking your hand and leading you in the direction of Filch’s office. 

You wouldn’t admit it but it was kind of thrilling sneaking around without anyone knowing you were there. You doubted you would agree to do this on a regular basis but you could be persuaded to do it again. You saw Filch going into his office and just before the door shut, Sirius pulled you inside with him. You watched as Sirius pulled out his wand and whispered a spell that made the desk start to float. Filch gasped and cried out, watching in horror as the cabinets started flickering open and shut again. You had to hold back a laugh as he fell over trying to leave and Sirius put his wand to his throat to make his voice sound more ghostly as he shouted, “Get Out!” Filch whimpered and practically crawled out of the room and you heard him shouting, “Demon Furniture! Demon Furniture!” as he ran down the hallway.” Once the coast was clear, you let yourself laugh out loud, “Is he always this gullible?” Sirius chuckled but it was quieter than normal. He wasn’t really paying attention to what you said, too bust focusing on your laugh. He had never heard you laugh so hard before, he didn’t want it to end. He felt proud that he was the one who made you laugh like that. 

You sighed in relief as you stopped laughing, it was starting to hurt your sides, you were laughing so much. You looked at Sirius, a smile on your face but it went away when you saw how he was looking at you. You cleared your throat, “What?” He stepped closer and looked into your eyes, “Can I show you something? But you can’t tell anyone else about it.” You nodded, this was possibly the most exciting day you’ve had all year, you wouldn’t mind experiencing a little more. 

You followed Sirius out of Filch’s office, still hiding underneath the cloak. Having to be confined against Sirius was making you feel a little warm under your jumper. Just as your fingers fiddled with the hem, preparing to take it off, Sirius suddenly stopped in front of you. You didn’t manage to stop yourself in time and crashed right into his back, your hands instinctively clinging onto his sides to steady yourself in case you fell. Sirius felt heat rush to his cheeks having felt your body pressed against his back, your arms half wrapped around him. But as soon as he felt it, it was gone as you pushed yourself away from him to stand by yourself. Sirius turned his head to look at you over his shoulder, “We’re here.”

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion as you looked straight at a plain stone wall, identical to many others within the castle. Sirius grinned at your face as he closed his eyes and started to think. You looked at either side, looking out for any students or teachers headed your way, but there was no one in sight. You glanced back at the wall and your eyes widened ever so slightly as you watched a pattern start to emerge on the wall in front of you. It grew and grew until it showed two large doors. Your mouth was parted in shock, how had you never noticed this before. A snicker ruined your awe and you glared at Sirius who did nothing to hide his amusement. He opened the door and headed inside waiting until you were both safely inside until taking the cloak off. You gasped as you looked around the room, it looked like a similar version of your common room but cosier, there was something about it that made you feel safe and protected. Sirius watched you wander about the room, “This is the Room of Requirement. It comes to those in need. Me and the guys found it a couple years ago.”

You had sat yourself down on one of the many couches in the room, “What would you need another common room for? All to yourself?” Sirius followed you to the couch, “It doesn’t always look like this, the room alters to fit what you need it for.” You nodded in understanding, “So why do you need this room?” Sirius shrugged, “I guess it’s where I feel most comfortable, where I see all the people most important to me.” You weren’t looking at him but you didn’t miss his pointed stare as he spoke. You tugged the sleeves of your jumper down over your wrists as you looked down at your feet, a rush of awkwardness overcoming you, “So what are we doing here then?”

Sirius shrugged and looked around, “Whatever we want, the room will adapt to bring us whatever we require, hence the name, so just name it?” You slowly spun around, eyes taking in everything that was laid out over tabletops and on the couches. Your eyes caught a familiar chessboard, “Want to play some chess?” It wasn’t the most interesting idea but it was all you could think of. Sirius hummed in thought, “Alright but we’ll make it interesting, after each game, the loser has to reveal something about themselves.” You sighed and rolled your eyes at him but sat down, of course he had to use this to pry into your personal life. But again, there was nothing else to do until everyone returned from Hogsmeade so you might as well waste the time somehow. You placed the chess board atop the coffee table in front of the fireplace and the two of you sat either side of it on the floor, the thick rug on the ground was warm and soft enough that it wasn’t uncomfortable.

Within twenty minutes, Sirius held a triumphant smirk on his face as his king smashed your queen into pieces, “Checkmate (Y/L/N), time to reveal your secrets,” he wiggled his fingers in front of you and you didn’t bother hiding a small smile as you looked up, thinking of what to say. “Um, okay, I’ll say that my favourite colour is red.” You looked at Sirius and was taken aback by his unimpressed expression, “What?” Sirius rolled his eyes, “That was nothing, rule change, you have to answer the winner’s question of choice with complete honesty.” You huffed, “Okay fine, what is it?” “I want to know what your favourite animal is.”

You shrugged in mild annoyance, “I don’t see how that’s much of a step up from my favourite colour, but okay. My favourite animal would be dogs , they’re just so cute and usually pretty friendly. My parents have three and I love them all.” Sirius smiled to himself and you raised an eyebrow at him but he shook his head, “Nothing, now come on, let’s go again.”

Almost two hours had passed and it was abundantly clear that you were out of your league playing chess with Sirius. You had lost every single game and had been forced into spilling the beans about your hobbies, wether Lily fancied James or if he had no chance at all, which classes you liked best, what the muggle world was like, your favourite things about the wizarding world etc. You had started to get bored of chess after losing so many times but you didn’t want to seem like a sore loser though you did nothing to hide the pout on your face as it appeared Sirius had the upper hand once again. Sirius smiled to himself as he watched you staring at all the difference pieces left on the board, your eyebrows furrowed deep in concentration as you looked for a way to win. He purposely moved his knight away to leave his queen open to be attacked and watched with restrained glee as you sat up in excitement, practically shouting, “Checkmate! Checkmate! Finally!”

Sirius couldn’t help the chuckles as he watched you and you couldn’t help filling up with embarrassment, your cheeks flushing red as you settled back down. You cleared your throat, “Okay now it’s my turn to ask you a question and you have to be completely honest.” Sirius nodded in return at your pause. You sighed and looked him in the eyes, “Do you really like me or is it all a joke?” Sirius’s face turned serious as he stared back at you, “I know everyone thinks of me as just some prankster, as some kind of ‘manwhore’ as I heard Molly say before, but I never intend to hurt anyone’s feelings. I don’t pretend to like someone for a prank, I know I went about it all the wrong way but I promise I do like you (Y/N), you’re different than the other girls, I can’t stop thinking about you. But you’ve said no and I’ll respect that now like I should have done in the beginning. I’m still really sorry about that and I’m glad we’re friends again at least.”

You bit your lip and nodded your head, his words seemed genuine and that was good enough for you. You gave him a soft smile, “Thank you, now come on, Lily and the others should be back any moment now so let’s head back, I’m satisfied now that I’ve won once.” Sirius got up and followed you out, using the map to show when it would be clear to exit the room of Requirement. You didn’t bother hiding with the cloak on the way back, the two of you walking in a comfortable silence back to the Gryffindor common room. The two of you headed inside of the painting and once it opened, you heard loud voices all chattering over each other, indicating everyone had returned already. Sirius turned to you, “Well, I had fun today maybe I can help you waste time again?” You scoffed, “I’ll think about it, it was pretty fun.”

Sirius couldn’t help the big grin on his face as he turned and walked over to the other marauders. You watched him walk away for a moment and just as you were about to turn away, you saw a piece of parchment fall out of his pocket and land on the floor in front of you. You quickly picked it up before it could get stood on and turned it over to see what it was. Your eyes skimmed over the paper and saw it was his permission slip for the Hogsmeade trip today, only at the bottom it was clearly signed by both of his parents. You looked up but he hadn’t seen you pick it up so you quickly folded it and put it into your own trouser pocket, heading upstairs to see if Lily had come straight back as well. You bit your lip, trying to ignore the warm feeling you felt in your chest as your hand gripped the parchment in your pocket.

[jo-harrington]

Developmental Achievement (A Store Manager Verse Story - Steve Harrington/Reader)

Previous Part: Incremental Planning

Pairing: Steve Harrington x HawkTheaterManager!Reader

Summary: Steve messed up and now he needs to fix things if he wants to win you back, hopefully for good.

Warnings/Themes: AU where the Upside Down doesn't terrorize Hawkins. November through January 1986, Steve and Robin work at Scoops (OR DO THEY?), Reader works at The Hawk Theater (formerly at Dippin' Dots AND Wicks and Sticks; you job hop...it's a thing), Relationship Break, Hopeless [Romantic] Steve, Tie in with the Store Manager Verse

Note: So this is the end of our Steve saga of the SMVerse, kind of wrapped up in a neat little bow. Is it the best? Probably not, but it's silly and corny and cheesy and I needed all of those things yesterday and instead of RELEGATING IT TO MY FIRST FAVE...I'll inflict it upon Stevie. Tagging @dr-aculaaa and @loveshotzz because COME AND GET HIM. (@deathbecomesthem ...and a possible Easter Egg?)

You can find my masterlist here for more fics featuring pretty much exclusively Eddie Munson content but also a little Steve.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

---

Steve Harrington fucked up.

Ok. Ok. That’s not right.

Steve Harrington really fucked up.

If he was being honest, he always seemed to fuck up when it came to you, his...well...he could really only call you his ex now, couldn't he?

From rivals in ice cream where he missed every sign that you might like him, to sickeningly-sweet dates around Hawkins because he was being too boring of a boyfriend, and finally to Thanksgiving Dinner with his parents where he absolutely stuck his foot in his mouth.

He thought making a joke about your job-hopping was funny--from Dippin' Dots to Wicks and Sticks to KB Toys, it's lucky you decided he was worth sticking around for--but it only put you under his parents' scrutiny.

He got an earful as he walked you to your car after dinner was over. You stayed a few steps ahead of him until you got to the driver's door and turned to him with tears in your eyes.

"That was embarrassing, Steve," you said through clenched teeth.

"I'm sorry, I..." he was at a loss for words, especially making you cry. As strong as you were, you never seemed to be flustered at all; what was happening? "I thought it was a joke. We always laugh about it. I’m gonna work at scoops forever and you’re gonna work everywhere else."

"But it’s meeting your family, you shouldn't joke about...about what a huge flake I am that you're lucky I don't jump from boyfriend to boyfriend just like I go from job to job. They're never gonna look at me the same way again. You only get one first impression."

"You shouldn't worry about what they think about you. I've stopped caring about what they think about me too."

It went back and forth before you threw your hands up and got in the car.

You didn't even kiss him goodnight.

Then sometime during Black Friday weekend, you stopped by Scoops before your shift and broke up with him.

"It was nice, Steve," you said, barely able to look at him. "But uh...I don't know. I need to know I'm with someone who doesn't think I'm some kind of joke."

He chased after you, even with his manager screaming that if he left he'd be fired, and begged you to reconsider.

You didn't.

He watched you ride up the escalator to head to your shift.

And when he got back to Scoops, he was actually fired.

What a great day.

---

Of course, Robin quit as soon as Steve was fired.

"Can't stick it out without you dingus," Robin announced as she approached him in the parking lot shortly after, tossing her hat at him. "And you can't have Scoops without...Stoops. Get it? Because you're stupid. Scoops? Stoops? Stupid. Why aren't you laughing?"

It was pretty funny.

But Steve was heartbroken.

Unemployed and heartbroken.

Robin insisted that she could land them both jobs at Family Video--

"Keith hates me. Pretty sure he calls me Sleeze Harrington."

“Well he loves me. I can vouch for you, come on."

--but Steve was sure that he would have a better chance at winning you back if he kept working at StarCourt.

What an epic bust that was.

Not the job part.

Well, that too.

Most of the stores near the toy store were done hiring seasonal help, and the best that he could land was a temp job as a Mall Santa.

On the upside, it meant that he could walk around the mall on break in his Santa suit and watch you with you none the wiser until he could beg you to take him back.

"It sounds creepy," was the unfortunate response from Steve's newest friend and personal relationship expert, the Claire's Store Manager.

He stopped by before his shift to pick up some of his lucky strawberry lipgloss to make sure he was very pouty and puckery for the moment you realized you'd made a mistake...and after effectively getting it all over his fake beard, the Manager decided to take pity on him and listen to his woes while helping him clean up.

"I'm gonna need to start charging you for advice," she laughed and wiped him off with tissues from the ear piercing station. "You seriously need it if that's the idea you came up with."

"You're a real Lucy Van Pelt," Steve deadpanned. "I'll buy you cookies one day just...please...help me."

"Have you tried just talking?" she questioned. "Wasn't that your problem in the first place? Way back when? You didn't communicate."

"But they're mad at me, they don't want to talk. And I need to fix it."

"Then give them some space, and try again, ok? Give it a week or two. They probably just need time to cool down, sounds like you really hurt their feelings."

"And if they can't forgive me?"

"Then you move on," she sighed. "Sometimes things just don't work out and even though it doesn't make you feel ok, you have to be ok with it."

So he waited a week.

A week was long enough, right? His own personal Lucy said so.

He chose a day he wasn't scheduled at Santa's workshop and waited for you in the food court where he knew you'd seek refuge during your lunch break, just like the two of you had taken your breaks together. He wore his best polo, made sure his hair was perfect, applied some of his lucky lip gloss and waited.

And waited.

And waited.

But you never showed up.

Not during your usual break. Not an hour later. Not even at the supposed end of your shift.

Maybe you were working a double?

So as much as he told himself he wouldn't follow you because it was creepy, he ran up the escalator two steps at a time to KB Toys where you would surely be.

Or not.

"They don't work here anymore kid," your former manager sighed after he asked about you. "I'm sorry."

"W-well where did they go?" he asked frantically, pathetically.

"Didn't say, not really my business to ask. Put in their notice...right after Black Friday, actually. Right before the Christmas rush too."

If he was heartbroken before...his heart was just gone now. Obliterated. Non-existent.

Along with any hope of trying to win you back.

---

Steve stuck through the rest of the holiday season at the mall; you could call him many things but a quitter wasn't one of them. However, come the new year, he needed a new job again, and he took up Robin's offer to butter Keith up and get in at Family Video.

He was offered an opening key shift, a decent employee discount, a better paycheck than both Scoops and Santa's workshop combined, and unlimited access to choose the movie playing overhead whenever he was in charge.

"You're lucky the other person I was about to hire bailed," Keith said after his first week. "Got a job at the Hawk or something. Can't blame 'em. Free popcorn and all that."

The distraction helped the heartache.

Surprisingly, he got a few phone numbers. Nothing ever came of them, nursing a broken heart the way he was, but it was nice. He'd been tempted to call you, several times in fact, but in the end he just decided fate knew better. Still, he denied himself the role of Hawkins' resident heartthrob.

"Are you hearing yourself right now?" Robin scoffed at him as he scrubbed off yet another phone number that had been written onto the palm of his hand by one customer or another. "Resident Heartthrob. Seriously? Ok Cassanova."

"What else do you wanna call it?" he asked, holding his arms out helplessly. "They can't resist the Harrington Charm, even when I don't want to use it."

"It's because you keep putting on sappy romance movies when you're here. Girls like that shit, a guy in touch with his feelings."

"First Nancy and then..." he trailed off, thinking about you sadly. He had to let you go.

"Are you kidding me?" Robin hit him upside the head and shoved him out of the way so she could start processing returns. "You can't even say their name? You need to get over it."

"It's hard."

"Were they your soulmate or something?"

"Robin, all men must...have someone who will never take advantage of a love bright as the sun."

"Love?"

"Someone to stand beside them."

"You're quoting the Monkees now."

"They were the one," Steve lamented. "And now they're--"

He trailed off as his eye landed on something outside the window.

"They're what? On the Last Train to Clarksville?" She made a buzzer noise. "Try again."

"No they're walking in right now, act casual," Steve announced and started typing away at the keyboard of the computer.

The doorbell chimed as you set foot inside Family Video and Steve glanced up to get a look at you for the first time in weeks.

Ok, so maybe he was being a little pathetic with this heartache.

Maybe it wasn't that bad for him.

It was pretty bad.

But when your eyes met, Steve could just tell...it had to have been just as bad for you too.

Because he knew you by now. How many months had you been dating? Dates and lunches and breaks spent together. Was it love? Maybe. Probably. Even if it wasn't, it was damn near close to it. So he knew the way your eyes lost their sparkle a little bit when they landed on him, knew the way your shoulders sagged, knew the words that refused to escape your lips when you saw him.

Stevie Stew. Pookie Bear. Dumb dumb. All the pet names he missed too.

Robin greeted you with an exaggerated lengthening of your name and a pointed glare shot directly at Steve.

"Hey Rob," you cleared your throat and offered a strained grin. "How are you? Didn't know you were working here."

Your eyes shifted to Steve and then back to Robin.

"Either of you."

"I've been here since before Christmas," Robin leaned against the counter as you approached and thumbed over her shoulder at Steve. "And of course dingus over here just couldn't stay away."

"You're the dream team, of course," you nodded. "Scoops Troop. But, uh, not anymore I guess."

"We're workshopping a new name."

The two of you laughed and then you excused yourself to peruse the shelves for a new movie. Robin even offered to show you some new tapes with a low pull it together hissed at Steve as she rounded the counter to show you a new display.

Steve willed himself to say something, Do something. Anything. Say hello, walk over and suggest a new movie, say that it was good to see you, that he missed you.

Communicate, god damn it.

But he was frozen.

Even more when you and Robin returned a few minutes later debating which John Hughes flick you should get: Sixteen Candles or Weird Science.

"You could always get both," Steve suggested, the words rocketing out of his mouth violently as you reached the register.

"Uh, yeah, actually..." you nodded. "That's a good idea, I think I will."

Steve typed in all the information and got your rentals rung out, and as he asked if you wanted candy or popcorn, you laughed.

"You know what, I'm actually all candy and popcorn'd out," your smile faltered when your eyes met again. "I'm...uh...you know."

"Know what?" Steve asked dumbly.

"I'm over at the Hawk," you nodded. "New shift manager and everything. I was...I was actually supposed to work here when Mr. Phillips offered me a dollar more at the theater. And the popcorn didn't hurt."

"I didn't know that," Steve shook his head.

"Oh."

"Yeah."

You and Steve stared at each other for another long, drawn out minute.

You opened your mouth to say something--

"Can we ta--"

--before Steve, idiot that he was, pushed your tapes across the counter at you and practically shouted at you.

"Your rental's due back on Friday by 2pm, enjoy."

Robin gave him the silent treatment for the rest of his shift.

---

"Do I show up with flowers?"

"Flowers?"

"What's that voice, you don't like flowers?"

"Not really."

There he was, back at Claire's the following day, sitting in the chair at the Ear Piercing Station as the manager restocked the jewelry wall. A bag of fresh chocolate chip cookies from the food court sat on top of the station and the two of them periodically reached in for a treat as Steve regaled her with his tale.

"I know they miss me, I just know it."

"Then why did you freeze up?"

"Because I'm an idiot. Help. Please."

So far, the manager hadn't really been able to offer him much advice outside of a shoulder to cry on and a listening ear. Especially now as he planned a way to win you back.

"Everyone likes flowers," Steve argued skeptically. "You're telling me Munson hasn't gotten you roses or something?"

The shop bell rang, a chain rattled, and leather squeaked, and instead of the manager answering with a gentle tone and an eye roll like she'd been doing all day, Eddie Munson himself chimed in.

"If I was a jealous man," he started with an exaggerated glare at Steve. "I would say you're here flirting with my girlfriend."

Eddie "The Freak" Munson was somehow the Dad to Steve's reluctant Mom when it came to the ragtag gang of Freshman that they shared role-model-ship of, and because of that their previous animosity had been turned into some kind of...agreement.

Could Steve say Eddie was a bad guy? No. Was he still wondering why the kids liked him so much? Yes. Could the two of them get along? Up for debate.

Which was why Steve wasn't so concerned when the metalhead was feigning some kind of intimidation tactic; they had an agreement that went from unspoken to shaken on come the new year: No fighting in front of the kids, no making fun of each other's hair, no stealing Eddie's girlfriend.

"What are you doing here?" the manager laughed at the two boys antics and crossed her arms over her chest. "Don't you have school?"

"I came to ask you a very important question," Eddie smiled a lovesick smile at her, Steve momentarily ignored. "But imagine my surprise when someone else is sitting in my spot."

"It's not your spot. And I'm giving him advice."

"Again?"

"He's hopeless, apparently."

"I'm right here," Steve exclaimed and got to his feet, ready to leave. "I didn't come here to be made fun of. I actually need help."

He didn't like the way Eddie clapped him on the shoulder, or steered him out of the store, or gave him a patronizing smile.

"Listen," Eddie started once they were out of the store. "I know you're having some issues but seriously, you need to get your act together."

"And how should I do that Munson? I've thought of everything and your girlfriend keeps telling me that my ideas are stupid."

"I'm sure they are stupid," Eddie nodded. "I trust her judgment."

"What would you do to win her back? If you fucked up?"

"I wouldn't fuck it up, Number one," Eddie smirked. "Even at the risk of jinxing myself there. Rule Number One in the Munson Relationship Doctrine, don't fuck it up."

"Well that page is missing from the Harrington Relationship Doctrine, because I clearly went and did that."

"Rule Number Two," Eddie continued, ignoring Steve. "Is by making a grand and personal gesture. Didn't you ask Nancy Wheeler to Junior Prom by having the cheer squad perform a routine just for her a few years ago."

"Yeah that took a lot of begging," Steve nodded eagerly, already formulating a plan. "But I could do it again if I--"

"I heard she hated it," Eddie shot a sour expression. "So no, not that."

"Then I'm out of ideas," Steve admitted.

Eddie threw his head back and groaned, and Steve was sure he heard him say something along the lines of and Buckley called him Hawkins Heartthrob.

"Listen," Eddie recovered, tightened his grip on Steve's shoulder with one hand, and jabbed him in the chest with the other hand. "Don't ever say that I didn't do anything for you ok? Where does your friend work? The Hawk?"

"How do you know that?"

"News travels fast when you're friends with 5 freshmen and Robin Bigmouth Buckley ok?" Eddie shook his head. "Now listen to me. Your friend works at the theater? Showing movies right? And what are movies made of?"

"Film?"

"Sure. And the kids...Dustin...what club is he part of at school?"

"Uh...Hellfire Club. Chess Club..."

"AV Club," Eddie insisted with an exaggerated nod. "And where do you work?"

"Family Video."

"And what is in a vid--you know what?" Eddie groaned. "I don't have time for this. How are you not putting two and two together Harrington?"

"I don't know what I'm supposed to be putting together."

"What they all have in common?"

Steve took a second as Eddie leaned closer expectantly, as though trying to transmit his idea through osmosis because Steve was just not getting it.

Until the osmosis was successful and Steve had his lightbulb moment.

"Oh!"

"There you go!" Eddie's face stretched with a feral grin. "I see the wheels turning. Ladies and Gentleman, I believe a plan is underway."

---

It took a little more than a week, the combined efforts of the AV Club and Hellfire Club, and a good chunk out of Steve's paycheck for supplies and to bribe them all and the projectionist at the Hawk.

But the plan was in place.

Steve found out your schedule, bought tickets for a 5pm show of Hey there, It's Yogi Bear.

There couldn't have been a worse movie to choose, but it was the only one he could buy out the theater for.

He showed up to the Hawk promptly at 4:30, got his soda and popcorn, and hung around the lobby impatiently. He was pretty sure he'd ruined his hair from the number of times he'd run his hand through it.

Slowly his friends started to filter in: The Sinclair kids and Max, Mike Wheeler and Will Byers with Nancy and Jonathan in tow--that wouldn't be nerve-wracking or embarrassing at all if the plan didn't work out. At some point, Eddie's van pulled up in front of the Theater and Dustin, Jeff, Gareth, and Dave all walked in bickering about nachos and sour worms, before Eddie and the Claire's Store Manager followed suit, Eddie telling his friends to shut up.

Steve was beginning to sweat at 4:55 when Robin ran in, hand in hand with a new girlfriend that he'd seen waiting for Rob when he dropped her off at school in the morning.

That he'd been maybe a little too in his own head about you to hear Robin rave about for the past few months. He really did feel bad about that.

"Thought you were gonna be late," he accused Robin.

"Me? Late?" she beamed. "Never. Do we have time to grab candy?"

"Just go," he waved them off, then shot Robin a secret thumbs up as she pointed to her crush excitedly, then got nervous when he spotted you across the lobby, talking to one of the ushers.

You faltered when you locked eyes with him, waved back when he sent you a little hello, and then you scurried into the box office.

He allowed himself one more moment of heartache. Then at 5 on the dot, Steve entered the theater and sat in the back row, as close to the projection window as he could get.

The previews started, and for a moment, Steve looked at all his...well, they were all his friends now, weren't they? Here to support him on this hare-brained endeavor. He suddenly felt loved in a way that he didn't think he'd ever felt before, not like this.

The only thing missing was you.

Suddenly the projection started skipping, and he could hear his accomplice in the projection booth shuffle around, then a door opened and closed.

"And so it begins," Eddie said dramatically a few rows ahead.

"Shut up, you're gonna give it away!" Dustin shouted at him.

Everyone started chattering until Steve sent them all a shhhhh when he heard the projection booth door open and shut again and your voice, clearly irritated, started speaking.

"What do you mean it isn't working? Did you try...I don't know...unplugging it and plugging it back in? Re-roll the film and try it again...here let me see..."

Steve felt himself shake with anticipation as the projector started up again, but the images on the screen were decidedly not Yogi Bear and Boo Boo.

"What the hell?" you exclaimed.

On the screen were pictures of you and Steve, all the polaroids and film strips from the little Photo Booth at Starcourt that you'd taken together over the months of your relationship. The ticket from the aquarium that he'd saved. The note you'd pinned to his back one morning when you hugged him before his shift that said "Steve Harrington is a loser."

He heard your snort as the scene panned up to a shot of himself sitting at the desk in his room writing a letter, shot on the Wheeler family's camcorder. The Steve on the screen looked up into the camera and startled.

"Oh," he laughed. "Didn't see you there. It's been a long time, hasn't it? I uh...I really wanted to talk to you and figured there wasn't a better way than writing a letter."

"Nerd," you called through the projection window, garnering laughs from his friends.

The scene faded to Movie Steve in a turtleneck skipping rocks at Lover's Lake in a very artistic shot that Director Dustin was apparently "proud of."

"But a picture is worth a thousand words so I'm pretty sure a video is worth a million." Movie Steve said your name sadly and looked deep into the camera. "I messed up, I was an idiot and a jerk and only took my own feelings into consideration when I made that joke to my parents. I don't care how they felt about you because I'm past the point of caring how they feel about me. My screw ups.

"And unfortunately I made the biggest screw-up of my life that night. I might not care what they think about me...but I care what you think about me."

The scene changed once again, Movie Steve leaning over the counter at Family Video filling out a form on a clipboard.

"There are a million better movies out there than this one you're watching right now Honey, but none of them are able to show just how truly sorry I am, and how much I miss you. I know that we still need to talk things out in person but I hope this shows how much I'm willing to put in the work so you'll forgive me."

A few rows ahead, he could hear Eddie speak along with Movie Steve, he leaned into his girlfriend and said "I wrote that line. Pretty good, right?"

"Uh huh," she pushed his head away from her. "Sap."

Eddie turned back to look at Steve and shot him a thumbs-up.

The scene changed one last time to a panning shot of Steve walking out of StarCourt mall towards his car.

"This is your chance to decide now. I wouldn't blame you if you chose never to talk to me again. I'll wait outside once your shift is over, but I'll respect your choice either way. I miss you Honey, and I love you."

Movie Steve got in the car and drove away into the sunset, only for the camera to pan over to Corroded Coffin playing a sweet ballad that Steve knew was your favorite.

The screen faded to black and the audience erupted into applause before the real previews resumed and the eventual movie.

Steve listened intently for some sign of life from the projection booth, but aside from a few footsteps and the door opening and closing again, there was nothing.

--

After the movie was over and all of his friends went their respective ways, Steve sat by his car until the end of your shift. When the last lights of The Hawk marquee finally turned off and the employees all started filing out, he knew he was holding his breath.

The last person out of the building was you, and as you turned around and spotted him, you stopped in your tracks.

Just like the other day at Family Video, it was a standoff between you and Steve, and although Steve wished that you would just come running into his arms to kiss him, insisting your forgiveness, he knew things were never that easy.

"That, uh...was something," you finally broke the silence.

"It was, wasn't it," he agreed.

"Was that your idea?" you asked. "Pretty sure those were all your friends in there."

"Yeah I bought out the whole theater."

"You bought...seriously?"

"I wanted to make sure you weren't embarrassed...in case anyone else saw."

"And I wouldn't be embarrassed by your friends?" you scoffed.

"Well they all helped me make it so I think I was more embarrassed asking them all for help than you." You let out a long sigh and put your face in your hands and Steve started talking rapid-fire. "I didn't mean to hurt you. I know that sucks when...when I already did. But I promise I'll do better. I'll be better. I'll be anything you need me to be, I just...I need you back."

You said something but it was muffled by your hands.

"What?"

"I said," you pulled them away and looked up at him with watery eyes, and he felt his heart drop again. "Do you really love me? You said so...at the end of that...whatever that was."

"I mean...yeah I guess I do."

"You guess?" you laughed.

"I do!" Steve said with more confidence this time. "I do love you. I'm...sorry I didn't say anything sooner."

"I'm sorry you didn't either," you muttered. You closed the distance and grabbed the lapels of Steve's jacket in your hands, as though you were about to shake him. "Do you know...the real reason I was upset?"

"There's...a real reason?" he asked.

"Why I broke up with you."

"Oh. Uh...no."

"I mean," you took a great breath of confidence. "Yeah I was mad because you made me seem like a joke to your parents on Thanksgiving, and I know...I know their opinion doesn't mean that much to you. But after I left it got me thinking...what if you made a joke like that...because I was a joke. And maybe thats why nothing was ever coming of our relationship because it was just...you didn't care about me. You didn't...love me, the same way I loved you."

Steve felt the invisible hand clench around his heart; it was like Nancy all over again.

"Loved?" he whispered weakly, the sense of deja-vu undeniable. "Honey..."

"So I had to end it. To protect myself. And I took a long hard look at myself when I got to work. The what? Third job I had since I started at StarCourt? I realized that maybe...I was a joke. Maybe you were right, that I was...this job-hopping, unreliable...thing and that's why I quit. And I started looking...for a management position somewhere so I could be better."

"But you were already great," Steve assured. "Can we get back to that...loved thing?"

"Steven..."

"Sorry."

"Let me finish."

"Ok."

"And you know what I found out since I've been here?" you asked. "I...kind of hate working at a movie theater. And I need to leave again. I'm...I'm a free spirit. I can't be tied down to one kind of job. I saw an ad in the paper for an arts and crafts instructor at the Park District and I sort of wanna quit before applying, I would be great at that."

"You would," Steve laughed, still unsure of where this was going.

It was always a bit of a rollercoaster with you though, and it was another thing about you that he loved.

"So...tonight seeing all of that," you waved an arm behind you at the theater. "Seeing you...realizing that you loved me all along...I don't know. I don't need your love to keep being who it is that I am, it's just nice to know that you love me, the same way I love you."

"Love me?" he asked hopefully.

"Yeah."

He whispered your name desperately and then cupped your face in his hands.

"I love you Honey."

"I love you too, Steve Harrington."

You pulled him into you and smashed your lips to his. The heartbreak faded away from both of you, and in its place, undeniable love and affection for each other.

Steve Harrington might have been many things, he might have fucked up.

But he was happy to say he was someone who could fix it.

With love.

[sturniolo-simp4life]

perfect enemy 2

y/n has been close friends with the triplets. Well, with 2 off them. The one thing she knows is- Matt absolutely hates her. She doesn’t know why, but he does. Or does he?

warnings- cursing. PREVIOUS PART

series taglist. NEXT PART.

A MONTH EARLIER it was litterly any normal Monday. You waited in front of the boy’s locker room, since hockey practice was about to end.

A boy of smell boys walked out of the locker room, passing by you, until you saw Chris and nick.

and him.

the smile wiped off of your face as Matt smirked at you. “Aww, someone’s grumpy this morning.” He teased.

“Ugh Matt, it’s too early for this.” Nick said.

“I agree,” you muttered as the 4 of you started to walk through the hallways.

the bell rang, and you made it too your first class, which you unfortunately shared with Matt.

“alright class, we will begin with a group project.” A collective sound of groans flooded the classroom, making the teacher roll her eyes.

“You will be paired in groups of 2. Unfortunately, I have prepared groups for you, because our class can’t seem to behave, considering what happened last time you got to choose partners.” The teacher glared at 2 snickering boys.

even more groans where heard across the class. “Alright I will beginning calling names. You will move next to your partner.”

she began calling names, until yours was called. “Y/n and… Matt.”

you couldn’t be fucking serious. You looked to Matt, who was already smirked at you. You glared and turned around.

he came and set his stuff next to you. “Hey princess.” He teased. “Shut up,” you snapped.

“quiet down everyone. For this project, it will be about entrepreneurship. Your objective is to design a t-shirt and phone case based on the school mascot. The first week you will spend researching for softwares and sourcing materials.”

‘This shouldn’t be too hard,’ you thought. You were a really creative person, so you figured it wouldn’t be too hard.

‘Matt is gonna make this so fucking hard me,’ you internally groaned.

Matt could sense your unease. “What’s wrong princess? Worried I’m going mess up this project?” He snickered.

You shot him a glare. “I don’t care if you don’t do shit. But mess up this project for me? Me and you are going to have a far worse problem.”

he lifted up his hands in surrender. “Okay, okay. Someone’s angy.”

you scoffed and rolled your eyes.

“You should come over after school. For the project I mean.” He said after a moment of silence.

You raised an eyebrow. “Do you want a good grade or not?” He said. You sighed and reluctantly agreed. “Fine.”

you felt an odd sense of anxiety as you walked up to his house. You had been to their house plenty of times— why were you nervous now?

you shook the thought as your rung the doorbell.

you where met by Chris. “Oh, hey y/n. What are you doing here?” He asked. “Hey. Uhh, is Matt home?” The words felt foreign coming out of your mouth.

Chris’s mouth dropped slightly. “Asking for Matt? Damn— that’s a first.” He chuckled. “I think he’s in his room.”

you mumbled a thanks and entered the house. You looked around and began to walk up the stairs.

His door was slightly ajar, and you peaked into it. He was on his bed, scrolling through his phone. His hair was fluffy and mess, and his lips were almost red.

Just looking at him made butterflies fly in your stomach. Wait, butterflies?

you shuddered in the thought. Matt was attractive, but there’s no way you were attracted to him. Right?

“like what you see?” His voice snapped you out of your trance. “In your dreams,” you muttered as you walked in.

“Alright so I was thinking we should do these 2 colors,” you said as you opened your laptop. You showed him.

he grimaced. “Hell no. We should do Red and blue instead.” You glared at him. “Red and black looks better.”

Matt groaned and rolled his eyes. “Just do all three, since you’re so stuck up.” You scoffed.

This was going to be a long evening.

It’s kind of boring but bare with me guys, it’s coming 😬

taggys-heartsforsturniolo567 fratbrochrisgf lizzysmith110 hottiirr ilovechrissturniolosposts luvbotsblog

[juliansjss]

‘’ YOU ALWAYS COME TO THE PARTIES . . . ON YOUR KNEES ‘’ | Euronymous ! |

Warnings: NSFW, fem Reader, degrading talk, p in v, smut with plot, hate fuck, car sex. (No I do not support the actual person, just Rory playing a part.)

Authors note: hiiii! So this is my first post on this account, and my first time writing smut in forever, so if it’s a little iffy you know why! But I do hope you enjoy this!

————-

He had always been in his weird ways. His strange comments, and odd behavior. It turned you away from him even then. School was hell because of him. Always making strange comments about you, and your friends. So you felt the need to hold back.

Now, you have your own band. It was more in the goth scene than metal, but somehow the two of you ended up at the same party. You and your bandmate, Raven, had been dragged there by her old college roommate. The party was okay, though it stunk of weed and sex, that was normal for this kind of thing. You sat on the couch that someone had definitely been fucked on earlier, but honestly you didn’t you care. There was a random blunt being passed around and you weren’t too much of a prude to take it.

That was until you noticed the band walked in. You rolled your eyes as you still took a hit of the blunt. Honestly, the band made decent music, wasn’t your cup of tea but it wasn’t the worst you had heard.

You handed the blunt to the next person, leaning your head back as you felt the couch dip beside you, turning your head to the side to see exactly who it was.

‘Of fucking course.’ You thought as the dark haired male made his way to meet your eyes.

“Funny seeing you here, Yvette.” He said, dragging the stage name out, like it was a kind of joke with a flicker of a smirk on his lips.

“Yeah I bet it is, Euronymous.” You said in the same cocky tone that he had.

“You know, I never thought someone as stuck up as you would be into this kind of stuff.” He said, the banter seemingly amusing to the man.

“Well, I wouldn’t see someone as weird as you being invited to this stuff either” you said, deadpanning.

“Aw, don’t flatter me.” He said with a smirk on his lips.

You just turned away from the man as you got the blunt back, taking yet another hit,

“You know how to take your weed, huh?” He said, the same stupid smirk on his lips.

“I’m a musician, I know how to take more than just weed” you said, rolling your eyes “don’t you have some groupie to fuck??”

“I don’t fuck groupies. I’m the leader of the band.” He shrugged, his tone turning serious.

“Sure you don’t. Believe me if everytime I heard that I’d be drowning in money.” You said with a cocky tone, the spiel getting boring at this point.

“Oh yeah? And I bet you have a lot of experience with that. Huh?” He said, now taking the blunt.

“You’re a fucking loser, Øystein.” You said, standing up and walking away, back to find Raven.

The night had calmed down, since you had been up. People were either passed out, or outside in the pool. That’s where you found Raven, laid out on a lawn chair. You stood beside her. The girl supported a drink in her hand, and a cigarette hanging out of her mouth like a true rockstar.

“I think you got a ghost” she giggled, clearly drunk.

“Hm?” You said turning your head back, and there he was again.

God, he was relentless, but you would be lying if you said it wasn’t at least a little hot, that he was a little hot.

“Do you have a ride home?” You mumbled to your friend

“Yup! Jades taking me home, I’m all set, you know.. if you wanna.” She said winking at you.

“Ew god no.” You shook your head, with a sour expression on your face

“Aww you don’t wanna fuck me? That’s too bad. I would assume it would make a great collab for our bands.” He smirked as he looked down at Raven, who nodded back at him with a smile.

You rolled your eyes yet again, walking away from the scene. Except, before you could get very far, he grabbed your arm.

“No you don’t, I wasn’t done talking to you.” The man said, staring down into your eyes.

“What the fuck do you want?” You mumbled as he did so.

“I just wanna talk, sweetcheeks.” He said, clearly the nickname an unfunny joke.

“About fucking what, Øystein?” You said, slapping his hand off of you.

“About how I know you wanna fuck me, just as much as I want to fuck you.” He whispered in your ear, clearly trying to hide from prying eyes.

Maybe he wasn’t wrong. I mean, he was pretty hot. But that would be it. Mindless sex with a hot guy wasn’t the end of the world, was it?

“Will that make you shut up?” You said in an annoyed tone.

“Fuck yeah it will.” He said enthusiastically back.

You grabbed him by his arm and dragged him out to your car. That wasn’t what he expected, but you didn’t trust him not to make his weird ass bandmates come and do weird shit. You wouldn’t doubt if they would come and take pictures and show everyone. At least here, you knew the tint was dark enough that no one could see.

“Get the fuck in.” You said angrily. Honestly you probably needed to get the aggression out.

He got in the back seat, not being his usual mouthy self which filled you with a sense of pride. When you got in after him, he was already taking off his pants and boxers. His dick standing hard against his stomach.

“God you really are a whore.” You mumbled and rolled your eyes.

Honestly the reaction he gave you wasn’t what you expected, a shocked look but that was filled with arousal.

“And If you try to fucking kiss me,” you mumbled, before grabbing him by the hair “I’ll fucking cut your tongue off.”

“Damn.” He said, his voice mixed with lust.

“Damn is right.” You said, swallowing hard. As you began to unzip your black leather skirt.

Were you really about to do this? Fuck the guy that made your life a living hell before? Yeah. You only live your life once right? Plus hopefully this would get him off your back, once and for all.

“You know, for such a loser, you do have a big cock.” You smirk, mostly to yourself, you were honestly surprised with the amount he hadn’t talked at all in this interaction.

“Thanks. I’ve been working on it for this moment.” He said, still a cocky smirk on his face.

“You’re a bitch.” You said, rolling your eyes as you took off your underwear.

“Gonna let me fuck now? I’ve been waiting.” He mumbled as he eyed you like a meal.

You rolled your eyes as you moved to slowly push yourself onto his dick. A decent stretch, you couldn’t lie, that was for certain. A little yelp came out as you did so.

“Oh, oh” he said, staring up at you with big eyes, clearly feeling the pleasure too.

At that it was, it was unreal. It was a mix of things that made it so good. The mix of fear that you’d get caught, the fact it was him, and the fact that you were wrapped so tightly around the man.

“Hm, I guess you’re good enough.” You said with a smirk, through breathy moans as you began lifting yourself up and down on the cock inside you.

“That’s so good, slut.” He said, grabbing at your hair to pull you down further on him.

“You’re the one who claims to be big and bad and is fucking someone in their car.” You said in a snarky tone.

“Do you ever shut the fuck up? Just take my cock and be quiet.” He said as he began thrusting into you now.

“That would mean I lost.” You mumbled as the feeling began to overwhelm your senses.

God, he did have experience and you knew that. He knew what to touch and where to hit to get you screaming out in no time.

“Fuck.you are a good fuck, maybe I should’ve tried to get off my back sooner.” You mumbled as you threw your arms over his shoulder, gripping at his back, your nails making indents into the skin.

He continued thrusting into you for a while, before moving down to flip you over. Now hitting deeper than before in missionary, faster too. You cover your mouth quickly in fear of someone coming out to find you being fucked practically into the backseat of your car.

“Øystein.. if you fucking cum in me, I’ll chop your dick off.” You said, mumbled from under your hand.

“You’re great at dirty talk.” He laughed as he began fucking into you faster, clearly trying to get to the edge faster, as you knew the two of you have been in there far too long to not be suspicious.

He moved his hand down to rub at your clit, making you moan louder against the hand that was covering your mouth.

And then suddenly you saw white. You heard yourself moan louder than you had all night, and your back was arched against him.

It took a few seconds to come back to it. But when you did, you saw the cum on your stomach and Euro outside of the car, zipping up his pants as he watched you.

“You know where to call me if you ever want me on your back again.” He winked and walked away, shutting the door behind him.

[funniestpersonalivefr]

can i please request something for damnation ada where she’s seducing the reader who’s her partner when they’re both locked up from the president and eventually fuck in the cell or something idk i’m so desperate for her she’s so fine

my requesting skills need help but 💋

what are you in for?

i got you dw 🙏. this is smut; mdni. also not proofread. sorry if dialogue is cheesy or bad, it's my biggest enemy. afab anatomy and use of petnames (baby). also banger first request for me, i love ada 🫶. hope you enjoy!!!

you found yourself in a dark cell. sitting on the bed by yourself, you hoped ada was having better luck with her half of the mission. however that little bit of hope was extinguished by the sound of the cell door opening and your partner being pushed in. she stumbles in, catching your gaze. she smirks, hitting you with a quick remark.

"so what are you in for, baby?" she says, her smug flirtatious attitude causes your face to flush.

you move to your feet, moving towards her.

"god ada, what happened?"

you both catch each other up on your parts of the mission and how you ended up in this dark grimey cell. you let out a sigh.

"what's the matter?" ada asks, watching your expression.

"we're stuck here, nothing to do until we think of a way to escape."

"if you're worried about being bored, i could certainly keep you busy,"

ada's tone is flirtatious as she leans in towards your face. she smirks as you get flustered, yet you don't lean away.

"seems to me that maybe, just maybe, you'd enjoy that. what do you say hmm?" she asks you, one hand sits on your thigh with her other cupping your face.

"c'mon now, use your words. tell me what you want."

"i want you," you whisper out to her. you can feel her breath on your lips before she slams her lips onto yours. she smells of cherry blossoms and you can taste the cherry lip balm on her lips.

she pushes you down against the bed as her hands explore your body. your hands are cupping her face, you whimper out slightly as she moves her knee between your legs, pressing into your cunt.

"well aren't you just a needy thing?" she says, humming in satisfaction at the involuntary buck of your hips as she gropes your tits. she moves her lips down, kissing your neck as she unbuttons your blouse. her lips suck on your skin leaving dark marks. you squirm under her, softly moaning out.

soon your blouse and bra are on the floor, ada has pulled back taking in the few of you desperate for her touch under her. her hands grab at your boobs, watching your face carefully as your nipples get caught between her fingers. she rolls the bud between them, pinching them as you whimper for her.

she leans back down letting her mouth clasp onto your nipple. you moan out as she makes work of giving you all of the attention you deserve. she smirks as she feels you grind into her knee. as she moves to the other tit, not wanting to neglect any part of you, her hands begin unbuttoning your pants.

she pulls back, tugging your pants off throwing them to the floor. she moves to the floor, turning you to have you sitting at the side of the bed. there she spreads your legs examining the very obvious wet spot on your panties.

"already so wet, just for me right?" she looks up at you. you nod, your hips lifting towards her. she smiles as she pushes your panties to the side. her fingers trace around your folds, teasing you to see just how desperate you are for.

you whimper out a 'please', you relax as she slowly slides in a finger. soon after she adds another however her pace is unbearably slow. you start to rock your hips against her fingers. her thumb moves to press down on your clit.

she moves her head by your ear allowing her to whisper to you.

"look at yourself, you're fucking yourself on my fingers," her words make you clench around her fingers. she bites the shell of your ear.

"god you'd look so good, fucking yourself stupid on my strap. you'd like that wouldn't you?" she says, you pathetically nod your head, unable to form words with how focused you are chasing your own orgasm.

she picks up the pace of her fingers, slipping in a third in you. the stretch causing tears to form in your eyes. you brain feels fuzzy as your orgasm approaches. you vision goes white as ada applies the perfect amount of pressure onto your clit as she curls her fingers. your legs tremble as your cunt clenches around her fingers, covering her hands in your juices.

she pulls them out, bringing them to her lips. she sucks them clean, humming at the delicious taste. she rubs your thighs as you come down from your orgasm. softly praising you.

"you did so well for me baby," she says. she places a soft kiss on your lips before helping you get cleaned up and dressed.

"when we get out of here, you better show me what your mouth can do," you mumble out, causing her to laugh.

"only if you do the same," she says.

[mieeaahhh]

A really looonngggg list of the most useless and boring all for the game head-cannons

Characters:

Neil Josten

He has those two crooked teeth at the sides of his mouth that look like ‘fangs’ and big two front teeth (me too, me too😔)

Wears caps backwards like a freak loser weirdo

He doesn’t care much about facial piercings but he ends up getting a few more ear piercings after awhile (and then he got a tongue piercing because someone told him he wouldn’t)

Regularly walks into glass doors and poles by accident and tries to play it off and act cool when really he just looks like an absolute dumbass

Sneezes like an old man

He wakes up from nightmares sometimes thinking his legs are gone and panics before realising that he’s okay and that he’s safe

Curly mullet curly mullet curly mullet curly mullet

His mum did his ear piercings for him as another way to change his appearance

Once woke up from a nightmare and punched Andrew instead of Andrew waking up from a nightmare and punching him. Andrew had never woken up so confused in his life and Neil burst out laughing while apologising and he immediately forgot about what his nightmare was about

Andrew Minyard

Once he starts relaxing more while sleeping in the same bed as Neil he starts sleep talking and it’s always about something ridiculous or completely random

I’ve said this so many times but idc. Andrew didn’t have any piercings until he moved in with Aaron and Nicky because Aaron has piercings and Andrew thought they were cool

Is good at baking and enjoys it but if you held a gun to his head and told him to cook dinner the gun would go off

When he was a kid he was really into space and constellations and sometimes he’ll point them out while on the roof with Neil

Covers his mouth with his hand or turns his face away when he laughs

He has Arfid? I think that’s what it’s called

Hides away whenever he’s sick because as a child people have gotten angry at him for being sick as it was ‘inconvenient’.

Aaron Minyard

Has slight claustrophobia from when Andrew locked him inside the bathroom. It’s not that bad most of the time but sometimes if the door gets stuck for a second or he’s in a small room for too long then he silently freaks out (he also hates going inside lifts)

Was really big on dinosaurs as a kid. his favourite teddy was a little terradactyl (idfk how to spell it I’ve been trying for ten minutes😭) and he still keeps it under his pillow

Gives the most nastiest looks to people without even realising

Mumbles to himself a lot about the things he’s doing like a narrator

The type of person to not know where their glasses are when they are on top of their head

Whenever he does something that makes him think the person he’s with will get angry with him he either freezes or makes himself smaller

Aaron has a weird thing with being perceived and will often stop doing something (like reading or whatever) if someone sees him/walks in until they go away.

Kevin Day

He’s autistic but only got diagnosed when he was in the foxes (like a few months or so after Wymack finding out he’s his dad and stuff)

Scared if butterflies the same way people are scared of wasps and bees

Sleeps face down and snores really loudly but is in denial about it

He has a keyring that he carries around with him everywhere because he was going to give it to Jean but never got the chance and now he feels it’s a bit late to do it now

Has the most beautiful handwriting

Nicky Hemmick

Really long eyelashes

Had a really bad and embarrassing emo phase that he refuses to talk about but one time the twins found old photos of it and framed them to mess with him

Tongue and smiley piercing

He’s in a the family group chat Erik has with his family

Opening up about his personal problems is hard for him. He thinks that if he’s upset about something then people will get annoyed with him and he’s scared of being an inconvenience

Renee Walker

Dyes her hair to match the holidays

She’s transgender mtf

The first time she died her hair was after she was adopted by Stephanie. She messed it up and Stephanie had walked in on her trying to fix it and offered to help her. It was one of the first things they really did together as mother and daughter

She always stands with her hands clasped together either in-front or behind her

She always has unique/fun hair-clips in her hair

Allison Reynolds

When she’s anxious about something she kinda just rubs her hands together or rubs them across her neck or legs repetitively

She LOVESSS shopping but always enjoys it more when someone is with her (it normally ends up being Neil, Seth or Renee)

Hips + bellybutton pierced🙌

When she was a kid she refused to wear anything but princess dress costumes and tiaras for like two years

A lot of her clothes/accessories or glittery or shimmery but she actually hates glitter because of how inconveniently messy it is

Kisses peoples cheeks to greet them

Matt Boyd

He’s the type of hugger that lifts up whoever it is he’s hugging (Aaron, Dan and Neil are victims of unexpectedly being lifted of the ground and seeing their life flash before their eyes)

Will, has and still does break it down to Brittney spear’s whenever she comes on

He has a tattoo on his hand on a flower and a tattoo on his shoulder of his exy number

He wanted to get both his eyebrows pierced but chickened out after getting the first one done

His favourite animal is a crocodile and has been since he was a little boy. His childhood toy was a teddy crocodile that he still keeps on his bed

Dan Wilds

The foxes all got Wymack a Father’s Day mug with their names signed on it once. It was Dans idea and it was a moustache on the bottom of it

She LOVES maximalist gold jewellery and is covered in it most of the time

During and after her time with the foxes she keeps in touch with her old work sisters and does secret Santa with them every year

Nose freckles nose freckles nose freckles

The teams ‘bonding’ activities are normally planned by her

Seth Gordan

He has dyslexia but is in denial about it and pretends he doesn’t know what dyslexia is💀

He is absolutely COVERED in freckles

He’s wanted to be a professional Exy player since he was a kid and it’s always what he’d tell people he was going to be before he joined the foxes. He lost hope in becoming one after signing with the team (kinda canon lmao?)

He looks the most like his father out of all his siblings

David Wymack

Proper BAWLED his eyes out at Dan and Matts wedding. It was the first time any of the foxes had seen him cry and they thought it was hilarious

Doesn’t know how to work a phone and holds it far away from his face like an old lady to read messages

Has a moustache🫡🤤😍🥰😘

Had an eyebrow piercing as a teenager but took it out YEARS ago

Abby Winfield

Was like super goth as a teenager

Has a tongue piercing and is a FAKE BLONDE🫵

Her only friend growing up was Betsy

Has a raspy voice🤤🤤

Betsy Dobson

Her style is very colourful and maximalist. She wears funky jewellery, crazy accessories and patterned tights, etc

She enjoys crocheting from time to time

She had a crush on Abby when they were in school with each other

Jeremy Knox

Big front teeth like a rabbit

Cries during sad movies. Like full on heaving sobs

Was very very shy as a kid and didn’t have many friends before the Trojans

He’s never really been aloud to do do things like dying his hair, dressing how he wants, going out more than a day a week if he was lucky, getting piercings etc etc so he’s honestly kind of afraid of being himself and a part of him still doesn’t really know who he is

Frecklesssss

A haver of the OCD🫡

Really bad at hiding his facial expressions. If you’re annoying him you WILL know about it but he won’t know that you know🧍

Jean Moreau

Moles EVERYWHERE

Sometimes he has days so bad that he struggles to even drink water because it feels like he’s choking

He’s very fidgety. Never sitting still for too long and whenever he’s holding something he’s always playing around with it in his hands. He fidgets very subtlety as he can though because he doesn’t want people to notice it

His favourite films are the buddy’s films

Absolutely SUCKS at any kind of game, board games, card games, video games etc he’s ridiculously bad at them

The toaster gives him a fright every single time it pops. Even when he pops it himself with the button

Resting sad face

Katelyn Mackenzie

She’s one of the cheerleaders that get thrown up in the air (I don’t know anything about cheerleading it isn’t really a thing where I live)

Her hair is really really curly and long

She’s the oldest sibling of four and the youngest is adopted

She’s always been quite popular amongst her peers growing up because of how kind, helpful and friendly she was but she’s never really had a best friend until the vixens (I like to think her best friend is a really goth girl in the cheer team)

Her part time job as a teenager was babysitting and she LOVED it

She’s 5,11

Groups:

The Monsters

They have a group-chat but they don’t really use it

Have all just fallen asleep in the car outside of Eden’s instead of driving home by accident a lot

They don’t take photos with each other but Nicky has taken sooooo many sneaky photos of them all

When Robin joins the foxes and eventually joins the monsters they all treat her as if she’s their little sister and her parents have invited them all for tea/dinner a few times

Kevin and Aaron are the only ones that can’t drive

Had a karaoke night once and have all agreed to never ever speak of it again

Once Andrew sorts his shit out Katelyn joins them in their outings sometimes

The upperclassmen

Go out for dinner together quite a lot

Were all bridesmaids/groomsmen at each-others weddings

They’ve got a group chat that is still used years after graduation even though they are all busy with their own lives now

They do those hangout things when they all make a PowerPoints about whatever they want and present it to each other etc yk?

They all have matching tattoos of their exy numbers

On the anniversary of Seth's death, the foxes and Wymack gather at Abby's place to have dinner together. They don't really talk about him but they leave one seat empty.

The floozies

They have BBQS together a lot

All have some sort of matching thing like a bracelet or t-shirt I just can’t think of what it would be lol

Cat and Laila have a photo wall/photo album full of photos of them all

They are always helping Jean have fun experiencing things he never got the chance too. He probably won’t tell them directly but he appreciates their patience

Kevin being obsessed with them is a bit of an inside joke of theirs. “Hey guys do you think I look okay in this?” “No but u know who would!” “If you say Kevin I’m punching you in the fucking face” (???) idk how else to demonstrate that LMAO

Love love love having sleepovers at Cat and Lailas

The Vixens

They were all weary of Katelyn’s boyfriend being Aaron grumpy loser pants Minyard but they eventually warmed up to him

When Melissa/Marissa(?) first joined the vixens after being in the foxes she struggled fitting in with everyone. Katelyn was the first friend she made on the team

Most of them are probably the nicest people you will meet in Palmetto and couldn’t care less about the foxes but a lot of them absolutely despise the foxes and want nothing to do with them

Katelyn has her own little group of friends in the vixens who Aaron eventually joined and is now the main source of their gossip (he mainly bitches about Neil and Andrew)

They all absolutely ADORE Robin

Relationships/couples (cannon and not lol):

Andrew and Neil

Andrew runs cold and has to sleep like he’s hibernating for the winter while Neil runs hot and needs a fan (Andrew hates the fan. It is enemy #1)

The cats were Andrews ‘idea’. (He found them outside and took them home without saying anything)

Neil has had to carry drunk andrew a few times because Andrew likes being difficult

The team all have AT LEAST one photo of them sleeping together . On the couch, in the bus, in their bed, ON THE ROOF? They all have one

Andrew enjoys shopping and has a wardrobe full to the brim with clothes. Neil just wears Andrews clothes most of the time

Andrew sits on Neil’s lap more than Neil sits on his but Neil LOVES holding Andrew’s hand

They bake together sometimes but it usually just ends up with them throwing flour at each-other (poor Andrews completely black outfits)

They both actually get ‘flustered’ quite easily around each-other but with Neil it’s literally Impossible to tell. Andrews entire face goes red but that’s IT

Andrew paints Neil’s nails sometimes when he’s bored (it’s obviously black nail varnish too)

Andrew let’s Neil pin his hands,eventually, enjoying being safe in his hold

Aaron and Katelyn

Katelyn is the big spoon🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️

Katelyn enjoys baking but Aaron doesn’t so he is always just sitting on the counter and watching her bake

Aaron is a lot quieter/more insecure than Katelyn is so she’ll often be the one in control of the conversation whether it’s just them two or a group of people but Aaron is a lot more comfortable being himself when he’s with just her (Their a Sunshine and rain cloud basically🙄)

Katelyn’s parents ADORE Aaron

Aaron buys flowers for Katelyn every single time he comes over to see her. When they get a home together he buys her new flowers every week

Katelyn is a big kisser while Aaron is a big hugger

Katelyn always kisses Aaron repeatedly on the face when she’s trying out new lipstick (leaving him covered in lipstick marks how adorbs and lovely)

They are both very physically affectionate with eachother

Katelyn takes 0.5 photos of Aaron all the time trust

Dan and Matt

Matching pajamas🙏🙌🗣️

Randy absolutely loves Dan and is constantly going on about how lucky her son is and how beautiful Dan is etc etc

Matt is the type of guy to wear a t-shirt covered in pictures of dans face at the club or a “I <3 my GF” shirt

They do face masks together during movie nights

Matt absolutely WORSHIPS Dan and it’s so painfully sweet it causes tooth aches

They go on a date once a week after graduation

Wymack walked Dan down the isle at their wedding and was absolutely SOBBING while dancing was giggling at him

Matt doesn’t know how to tie a tie because he’s got hashtag daddy issues so Dan usually does it for him

Always touching somehow. Shoulder to shoulder, hand in hand etc

Seth and Allison

He liked her bossing him around👁️👁️

Sometimes when they were bored Seth would try do Alison’s makeup and she wasn’t aloud to help him and it always ended up with them cry laughing

Allison would help Seth shave his head when it got too long for him

Allison had Seth saved as “wife🏳️‍🌈” in her contacts LMFAO

After he died the foxes photo wall had a photo of him put up with his name and birth to death dates. Allison is the one who picked the photo

Allison always manhandled Seth into doing his skincare and eyebrows etc because she was NOT going to have a scruff as a boyfriend (he secretly enjoyed it)

He liked it when she scratched his back because of her long fake nails

She was the first real girlfriend Seth had (and the last)

Allison and Renee

Allison helps Renee dye her hair when Andrew isn’t around to help (sometimes they both help her at the same time)

Renee is silently a little shy around Allison and gets flustered at all the compliments and praise Allison gives her (Allison is head over heels and is very very much flustered but she can’t let people know that🙄🙄)

^They are basically just very awkwardly sweet with eachother

Allison always ricks Renee’s hair behind her ears

They go on picnic dates a lot during summer and spring

Renee fell first, Allison fell harder🫡

Stephanie is the embarrassing type of mother that’s always teasing her kid about their crush and she most definitely teased Renee about Allison

Renee makes homemade valentines gifts and Allison gets expensive valentines gifts

Allison loves Renee playing with her hair

Renee enjoys taking off Allison makeup for her at the end of the day and always kisses the tip of her nose when she’s done (taking the fake eyelashes off is her favourite part LMAO)

Allison has gone to church with Renee and Stephanie a few times during Christmas

Allison always kisses Renee’s wing tattoo

Renee reads before bed a lot and Allison falls asleep listening to her sometimes

Renee and Allison and Seth (hear me out I’m begging)

Renee and Seth are both dating Allison but they are not dating each-other 🙅‍♀️🙅‍♀️

They are both very playful competitive when it comes to Allison and she thinks it’s hilariously sweet

They have a groupchat named “Renee is cooler” and Seth is a dumbass who doesn’t know how to change the name

After Seth died Allison and Renee stopped dating for a while. Allison needed some time to herself and Renee was okay with that

Renee and Seth are low-key best friends (obviously! they have the same girlfriend) but pretend to be enemies in a way that’s like almost as if they are at war against each-others kingdom LMAO

They all go on dates together but they also take turns going on dates

Seth helped allison help dye Renee’s hair once and accidentally got the dye in his and Allison hair. He was never aloud to help again

Allison sleeps in the middle and they rotate the spooning lmao. One night Seth spoons Allison while Allison spoons Renee and another night it’ll be the other way around. Sometimes they are both just curled into Allison 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️

Stephanie loves both Allison and Seth and often invited them over for dinner

They all had matching banquet outfits

Jeremy and Jean

Jeremy kisses jeans moles/Beauty marks and Jean kisses Jeremy’s freckles

They sleep facing each-other and so close that they are basically kissing 🙄

Jeremy likes playing with jeans hands when they cuddle and kisses his finger tips

Jeremy screams and runs from bugs while Jean picks them up and puts them outside

Nicky and Eric

At their wedding Nicky was walked down the aisle by Erik’s dad

Their first date was an aquarium date and it was also Nicky’s first time going to an aquarium

They have matching build-a-bears

When Nicky first moved back to take in the twins he and Erik called almost every single night. Nicky was so tired sometimes that he’d fall asleep while Erik was speaking

Nicky only taught the twins basic greetings and manners in German so that when they meet Erik they could at least greet each other but the twins learnt it fluently in their own time without Nicky knowing

Abby and Wymack

They got legally married but instead of a wedding they had a dinner party at their house

They cook together almost every night (Abby is cooking and Wymack is TRYING to cook)

They go on a date every Friday night if they can

They are both very private about their relationship and keep to themselves instead of parading their love around for everyone to see

Abby helps Wymack shave most of the time because he #sucks

They have a daughter together sometime in the future (probably wouldn’t happen but idc😒) and Kevin is her best friend. He buys presents and spoils her whenever he comes to visit

She also absolutely adores Dan and Matt

Katelyn and Aaron and Kevin

Aaron and Katelyn are messy sleepers and move around A LOT so Kevin has woken up from being kicked in the face or something an ridiculous amount of times

Aaron kisses Kevin’s hands and Katelyn’s head/hair a lot, Kevin kisses Aaron’s forehead and katelyns shoulders a lot, then Katelyn kisses Aaron’s cheeks and Kevin’s forehead a lot

Katelyn and Aaron wear eachother and Kevin’s clothes a lot but Kevin barely wears theirs because most of it’s too small for him

Katelyn taught them both how to plait hair and sometimes when they are bored she’ll sit on the floor infront of them while they plait one side each and whoever does the best plait wins

They had a shared playlist but Kevin was banned from adding songs to it because his music taste is bad

Cat and Laila

Bicker like an old married couple

Matching outfits AND hair for banquets but Laila has really long hair and cat has short hair so they are not always FULLY matching hairstyles

Just have a lot of matching things like pajamas and jewellery etc

Sometimes when it’s just them home they play music and slow dance in the kitchen/sitting room quietly

Cat is an ‘organised mess’ kinda person while laila is just a messy person

Friendships/Family:

Katelyn and Neil

Bully Aaron every chance they get bro trust🙏 “look at him” “ikr what a nerd” “I can hear you both😐”

Katelyn is just messing around but Neil is probably actually bullying him LMFAO

Dressed up as each other for Halloween once without telling anybody and gave the twins whip lash

Neil helps her with maths and will help Aaron too if he’s there but Aaron is actually good at maths so he doesn’t need it most of the time

Katelyn was watching when Marissa was asking for Neil’s number because she was the one that told her to ‘go for it!’ And when Marissa got back Katelyn was in tears laughing

They have a secret hand shake that is unnecessarily complicated

Katelyn has bright ginger hair while Neil (cannonicly) had Auburn/dark ginger hair

Aaron and Matt

Aaron was a little awkward about their slowly forming friendship and often tried pushing Matt away but Matt was a little oblivious to it

Randy loved Aaron and always tells Matt to invite him over for the holidays

Whenever Aaron has a nightmare he doesn’t like sleeping by himself and has woken up next to Matt many times because Matt told him he can just sleep in his bed if it makes him feel better

They get really competitive with each other over video games

They play fight/tackle eachother at the most random times and Matt usually wins

Matt had a pair of Spider-Man pajama bottoms and Aaron has a pair of Batman pajama bottoms (Matt bought them)

Matt was the best man at Aaron and Katelyn’s wedding

Matt is Aaron’s first ever best friend

Neil and Matt

Matt gets Neil into playing video games with him sometimes and Neil is wayyyyy better than Matt so he regrets ever letting Neil have a go

There is a photo taped to the photo wall of Neil sitting on matts shoudlers with the biggest smile on his face because he’s laughing and doing this 💪😆💪 LMAO matts doing 💪😁 because he has to hold Neil with his other hand

Matt always holds his hand up high when giving Neil a high five so Neil has to jump to high five him back

Andrew and Neil are the designated babysitters for the team (when they aren’t working obviously) and matt and dans son is constantly copying them and the things they say

Matt insists on them having ‘bro nights’ at least once a week

Matt is Andreils biggest fan

They have a bromance so strong you’d think their actually inlove with each other sometimes, Dan thinks it’s hilarious (Andrew does too but they can’t know that🙄🙄)

Dan, Allison, Renee (+Katelyn!)

Renee, Allison and Dan have girls nights and slumber parties sometimes and after awhile they start inviting Katelyn

When Renee was re-dying her hair once Allison asked her to put pink and black underneath the blonde but she only kept it for a year (Mcbing Allison🫡)

Allison and Katelyn gossip like nobody ever could, they know everything and everyone bro

Dressed up as the powerpuff girls for Halloween once

Aaron, Andrew and Nicky

Nicky was the one that bought Andrew his armbands. Nicky took them shopping for some extra things like clothes and school supplies etc before they went home and Andrew picked them up, Nicky saw him looking at them and told him he can get them if he wants (Nicky never knew why Andrew wanted them until thanksgiving)

Nicky cut the twins hair for them up until the left collage. To begin with it was just Aaron’s hair he did but eventually Andrew trusted him enough for him to cut his too (I don’t think Andrew would like a hairdressers due to a stranger having to touch him and I just think Aaron would hate getting his hair cut)

They had movie nights together before collage every now and again but didn’t have the time for them once they joined the foxes. One night, after the books take place, Nicky asked if the wanted to have one and they ended up meeting in Aaron’s dorm to watch it. Aaron fell asleep against Nicky’s shoulder and while Andrew fell asleep last at the other side of their make shift sofa bed thing

Aaron and Nicky met once or twice when they were little but Aaron doesn’t remember

They have a groupchat and Nicky has the twins contacts saved as ‘thing 1’ and ‘thing 2’

A part of Nicky was upset Andrew never told him he was gay and at some point he asked him if it was because he felt like he couldn’t and Andrew looked him up and down and asked if he was being serious LMAO

Aarons had glasses since he was little but Andrew only got his after moving in with Nicky

Aaron and Andrew eventually just end up sharing most of their clothes either each other after awhile

andrew and aaron both have a very contagious laugh if you’re lucky enough to hear it

Allison, Renee, Neil and Andrew

DOUBLE DATES GUYS TRUST🙏🙏🙏 I think Renee and Allison are more of a dinner date kind of couple while Neil are a staying in or like going on a drive type of couple so they all agree on something that they would all like. a small café or something yk?

Andrew doesn’t gossip but will slide Allison information he’s heard, Renee doesn’t gossip and doesn’t particularly enjoy listening to it, Neil doesn’t gossip but he’ll listen if Allison is, Allison loves gossip and looses her mind when she’s with them

Renee and Andrew have a video of neil and Allison doing karaoke and dancing while drunk in the dorms but nobody else knows about them (not even Neil and Allison)

Allison and Andrew are the best gift givers on the team🫡

Allison put glam makeup on Neil once for fun and the look and Andrews face had them in stitched laughing

I think it would be cute if Allison and Renee adopted a daughter in the future and she would LOVE Andrew and Neil and always want them to ‘come over and play’

^^^Andrew always lets her get away with everything. “Do you want some..?” “My mums said I can’t have sweets before dinner😞” “well they aren’t here right now and I say you can”

Allison and Andrew eventually end up becoming somewhat friends after awhile and she paints his nails for him a lot because she claims he’s ’bad at it’

Neil and Allison

She drags him along for shopping sprees a lot and often ends up buying him clothes even though he has the money for his own

^^^when she and Andrew get closer, there will be a few times she’ll be looking, pick something up and go “you’re buying this for Andrew” and shove it into Neil’s hands

She and Neil have matching skincare headbands/hair-clips

Allison made all Neil’s social media accounts and showed him how to change things like his profile info and how to post. All he’s ever EVER posted is a selfie he has with Allison, a picture of Andrew + the cats and a group photo of the foxes

^^^something similar to this (yes I know that’s the Yellowjackets cats but just imagine it’s the foxes instead LMAO)

She used him as a model when making clothes sometimes (she used Renee as one too🤭🤭)

she made him try do her makeup once and he put the fake eyelashes on her eyebrows

[reidingandwriting]

Speak Now (Hotch’s Version)

Chapter One: Enchanted

“All I can say is it was enchanting to meet you”

Word Count: ~1000 words

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Reader

Warnings: None I think? This chapter is pure fluff :)

Next chapter

A/N: Hello hello! This is the start of my Eras Tour fanfic series, and we are starting with the album Speak Now featuring Aaron Hotchner! Every chapter in this series will follow a song from Taylor Swift’s album being featured to tell a story of a relationship. I am super excited for this series! If you have any characters you’d like to tie to future albums, please let me know! Some series may feature canon couples, some may feature ships, some may be reader-inserts, so I hope at least one part of the series clicks with you 💜 This chapter is a shorter one, sorry!

Another FBI banquet. A perfect way to spend one of the only days off you got, you huffed as you took a sip of your champagne. You stood by your colleagues, surrounded by the same boring conversation, and you forced laughter and faked smiles where appropriate. Rehearsed answers fell from your lips as your gaze shifted across the room, and you paused when your eyes met dark brown ones.

There was an air of familiarity around the man and you watched as his expression molded into one similar to how you felt. Subtle, but a faint hint of questioning in his eyes. You were surprised as he started to cross the room, and you found yourself walking over to meet him before you realized you were. “Have we met before?” You blurted and his brows furrowed, and you were quick to continue talking. “I’m sorry. You just seem really familiar, like I’ve seen you before.”

“I’ve been to a few of these,” he said before he stuck his hand out. You took his hand in your own and shook it. “Aaron Hotchner.” You introduced yourself before letting go of his hand. Hotchner, Hotchner…

“From the BAU, right?” You asked and Hotchner nodded. “From Sex Crimes, myself.” You nodded over to your colleagues, where your absence was not noticed. “They don’t know it yet, but my transfer was just approved this afternoon.” You took another sip of champagne as Hotchner’s brows raised ever so slightly.

“A transfer? Any reason you wanted to leave?” Hotchner started to edge away from the crowd and you followed suit.

“I love the work I did, don’t get me wrong. I just… felt like my time there has reached its end. I’d been eyeing transferring for a while, and when the opportunity made itself known, I went for it. I didn’t think I’d get it, to be honest,” you admitted, “but somehow I did.”

“Congratulations on the transfer. Where are you transferring, if I may ask?”

“And ruin my mysterious appeal?” You teased and were pleasantly surprised to get a smile and a huff of laughter from Hotchner. “But I want to keep it under wraps for a little longer. It just feels… surreal. Like if I say it out loud, I’ll wake up from the dream and lose it all.” Hotchner nodded in what seemed like understanding, and the two of you continued to talk for what felt like ages but seconds at the same time. You had no idea how much time had passed until the crowd started to dissipate, the largest group remaining consisting of some agents not-so-subtlety watching Hotchner. One immediately caught your attention, her outfit a bit flashier and brighter than everyone else’s. Like a ray of sunshine between the sea of blacks and blues.

“You’ve got some admirers,” you said and Hotchner rolled his eyes lightheartedly.

“That would be my team. Meddling children, all of them.”

“They’re lucky to have you, from my judgment.” You smiled. “I unfortunately should let you go, tend to your children. And I have a busy day tomorrow, finalizing papers and saying my goodbyes.”

“Good luck with everything, Y/L/N,” Hotchner said and you exchanged your goodbyes. You started to walk away, then paused for a moment before you called out his name.

“I’ve got a feeling we’ll be seeing each other again soon.” You winked as you walked off, missing the contemplative look on his face. As you walked back to your car, you couldn’t help feeling like a school-aged kid with a playground crush. Aaron Hotchner. You didn’t know much about the man, just the basics of his department and what you learned while speaking to him tonight, but you couldn’t believe your luck to have met him. Cheeks flushed, you got into your car and drove home, smiling the entire drive.

-

A week had passed since the Annual Banquet and you paced the floor of your apartment, talking to your best friend.

“You don’t understand, you didn’t get to meet him. There’s no way he’s available,” you told your friend who sighed from their spot on the couch. “I can’t believe I’m this obsessed with a man I met once. It’s pathetic, isn’t it? Wait, don’t answer that.”

“You’ve wanted to be in the BAU since your, what, second year in the FBI? In a way, you looked up to him. You wanted to be in his position. And then you got to meet him, and you’ve always had a tendency of taking small things and running with them.” You scowled before you fell back against the couch, groaning.

“Aaron fucking Hotchner.” You said and your friend laughed. “What I would give for him to just be on my doorstep, like ‘Hey, I know we’ve only met once and only spoke at a work event, but meeting you was the best part of my night.”

“Enchanting sounds better,” your friend corrected. “He was enchanted to meet you. Who knows? Maybe this is the start of the story, not the end. And besides, you’ll see him again soon.”

“Not soon enough.”

Aaron Hotchner

Aaron Hotchner

Hotchner

Hotchner

Aaron.

You walked into the Quantico building a few days later, early Monday morning. You had greatly overestimated your commute and how long your meeting with the Section Chief would take, and you stood outside the bullpen, occasionally talking to the Section Chief to settle your nerves. The elevator dinged and you admittedly flinched at the sudden noise.

“Agent Hotchner,” Section Chief Strauss spoke and you lowered your gaze, suddenly finding the flooring very interesting until you felt a hand on your shoulder. “Meet your newest agent.”

Hour gaze slowly traveled up to meet familiar brown eyes, a flash of recognition in them before Hotchner stuck his hand out for you. “I told you we’d see each other again, Agent Hotchner.” You tried to get a read of Hotchner’s face, unable to pick up any disappointment but not seeing any real contentment either. For just a second, it was so fast you may have imagined it, a small smile graced Hotchner’s face and you took his hand in your own.

“You were right. Nice to see you again, Agent Y/L/N. Welcome to the team.”

[gortash-did-nothing-wrong]

Feral 2

Minors Do Not Interact!!!

Warnings: brief mentions of arranged marriage, threats of harming an animal (it's a joke but the reader takes it seriously), and several references to slavery

The silly little cat fic is getting a sequel because someone commented that Feyd not liking Friz would make him Friz's favorite person.

"Get him." Feyd said firmly.

Y/N snorted out a laugh. Ever since the wedding she had gotten very comfortable around him. He liked that. He wasn't a fan of a certain flea bag getting that comfortable though.

Friz had a new habit. A habit that annoyed Feyd to no end. Anytime Feyd sat down somewhere, Friz would climb up on the back of the couch or chair, and rub against the back of Feyd's head. Normal he would just ignore the beast until the creature got bored, but with Friz's newfound affections came a fun new fact. Something about the combination of Friz's fur and Feyd's skin created a bit of static. Every damned hair the cat shed stuck to his head like it was glued. Only showering or a lint roller would get it all off. Every damned time he left his rooms he had to triple check himself to make sure he wasn't walking around with cat fur on his head. Y/N was admittedly helpful about the situation, often going over him with a lint roller before he left.

Friz seemed to have an endless supply of fur that fell off of him at the slightest touch. The beast didn't seem to have much fur when you looked at him, but it was a cowardly deception. Y/N had taken an undercoat brush to Friz while Feyd watched, horrified at the amount of fur that kept getting brushed off of him. It was never ending. And after Y/N was done, a giant clump of furballs next to her to prove she'd done it, Friz looked no different. And still she'd on the couch that evening during his nap time.

"The maids scramble about to keep this place as fur free as possible." Y/N explained to him, throwing the fur into the incinerator. "I've no idea how they do it, I think they use some sort of hand rake that works kind of like the undercoat brush."

"Remind me to increase their rations." Feyd grumbled.

Which brought Feyd back to his current predicament. Friz was standing in the back of the couch, rubbing against his head like he owned it. Y/N held out her hand, offering pets to Friz.

The tomcat promptly gave her a warning hiss.

"It's out of my control." Y/N said.

"And you're sure we can't shave him?" Feyd pressed.

"He'll get sick. Giedi Prime is already so cold, I can't let him freeze without his coat." Y/N explained.

Feyd opened his mouth to say that wasn't the worst outcome he'd ever heard, but went silent when he felt it. On the back of his head. Something warm, wet, and scratchy. It touched him briefly, then disappeared for a split second before touching him again, and again, and again.

Y/N grinned from ear to ear. "Aw, he's grooming you!"

Feyd growled, crossing his arms in what definitely was not a pout. "I am cleaner than he has ever been."

"You know, cats only groom things they consider to be family. And since you're new to him, and have no hair, he might think you're a kitten!" Y/N giggled. "A poor, cold little kitten with no hair."

A little meow from behind him assured the both of them that not only could Friz understand them somehow, but he was committed to this entire bit.

"I'll toss you to the slave pits." Feyd threatened the cat. "They're usually half starved. They'll tear you to-"

"Feyd." Y/N snapped. "If you speak to him like that again, you'll need to go to your own room tonight."

Feyd took a deep breath, gently reminding himself that his wife wasn't from Giedi Prime, that she was softer than him, that she wasn't going to take kindly to even joking threats. "My apologies. Is there some solution to his shedding I have overlooked?"

"Well, regular baths would help." Y/N said. "Right now I can only manage about one every two weeks, but if I could give him longer bathes where I really get in there and scrub him, it'll knock a lot of fur off."

Feyd narrowed his gaze at Friz as the cat jumped into his lap. "Consider it done."