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peachypinkygloss · 3 days

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make you mine — jeon jungkook

You never suspected the evil would have taken the form of Jungkook, a hot guy from your college, but when he takes interest in you, you rapidly discover the secret he's hiding.

★ pairing: incubus!jungkook x fem!reader

★ genre: horror, smut, college au, jennifer's body au

★ word count: 5.8k

★ warnings: graphic description of gore (mention of blood & injuries), dub-con, jock!jk, implied inexperienced!reader, dom jk/sub reader, unprotected sex, praising, fingering, multiple orgasms, jk's kinda mean but hey he's evil so 🤷🏻‍♀️.

a.n.: here she is guys 🙈 it was both hard & fun to write lol but honestly the result is *chef's kiss*. read the warnings pls thank you!! im so scared of posting it 🥲

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩

Jungkook thinks he never felt that much pain in his whole entire life. It’s like his soul is screaming from the inside out, as if someone stabbed him in the stomach, tearing his guts apart.

Oh, but that’s actually what happened…

How can he still be alive? He swears he was dead seconds ago, losing liters of blood through the cut in his stomach. But he’s very much conscious right now, getting out of the woods he was brutally murdered in. Well, is it still murder if he survived?

It doesn’t really matter anymore anyway. All he can think about at this moment is how hungry he is. He would devour anything he can eat, and god, why does the person on the other side of the pavement look so… edible?

He feels the dried blood dripping from his mouth and his hands stained in the same red substance, holding his stomach where, surprisingly, he is no longer bleeding from.The pain is atrocious, but he needs to fucking eat, and he approaches the person faster.

The moment they notice him, their eyes grow bigger and they let out a strident scream, but Jungkook gives them no time to leave.

He doesn’t know what in the hell possesses him to jump on that poor human, his teeth becoming sharper than they ever were, shredding their neck in pieces, their screams slowly dying down as he eats like a starved animal.

The fresh blood is coating the dried layer on his chin. He feels like an uncontrollable beast, and he’s literally acting like one right now. No one with a right mind would have ever done this… but it’s like he isn’t a human.

He was revived from the dead, he can’t possibly be human anymore…

He has an idea as to why this happened.

Those girls — that girl band who he seemed so enthralled by — sacrificed him, and for what…? For fame? For money? Whatever it is, they killed the wrong person because obviously the sacrifice didn’t fucking work.

Well, at least on Jungkook’s side.

He doesn’t know where they went — probably out of town, living their best life as if they didn’t murder a guy for their crappy albums to get more sales.

He’s cursed now, or whatever the hell is happening to him.

He looks down at his victim; it’s a man.

As he eats, he suddenly feels nauseous, vomiting what he had so far swallowed. A dark liquid comes out of his mouth, and god, it’s even more painful than the cut in his stomach.

He feels disgusted by himself — why isn’t he full? Eating felt so good, considering how starved he was, but it’s like he ate something … expired.

Argh, what’s wrong with him… He ate someone’s guts, of course it doesn’t taste like a 5 stars meal. Then why did his instinct tell him to do that?

That’s fucked up.

The next few days are horrible for Jungkook.

After that night, he doesn’t eat anything except for raw chicken and other types of meat that were just not enough to satiate him. It doesn't taste good either.

He lays in bed most of the time, having no energy, skipping the gym and his practices, which he usually never does. He gets texts from his friends, but he doesn’t bother to check his phone.

It’s on Sunday night that he decides to leave his bed, going to look at himself in the mirror. He has big dark circles under his eyes — not particularly flattering. He’s still very hungry, but none of the food in his fridge makes him want to eat.

There’s one thing he’d want, though…

It’s when he receives a text from a specific person that he knows what to do.

iseul: hey, gguk. wanna study together for tomorrow’s exam?

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩

“Hey, man,” Jungkook’s teammate, Doyun, greets him. “Heard about Hana? That’s fucked up,” he states, walking beside his friend. “And right after Iseul… My parents refuse my sister to go out alone now.”

“Yeah, I heard,” Jungkook replies, not really caring, but still listening.

It’s not like anybody liked Hana before, he doesn’t understand why everybody suddenly cares now that she’s dead. She needed to die to finally have some importance. How sad.

She wasn’t that good of a laid either, so really, what’s the matter? Sure, it’s tragic, but who’s going to miss her besides her family.

“Can’t be an animal at this point,” his teammate says under his breath, “Do you wanna know what I’m thinking?”

Not really…

“What?”

“I’m thinking it’s gotta be some ‘Jack the Ripper’ kinda guy. You know those freaks who wanna be the modern this or that.”

Kind of offensive…

Jungkook rolls his eyes without Doyun noticing, snickering at his words.

“The police’s saying it’s a bear or some shit,” Jungkook explains, reaching his class. “That’s more believable than your ‘modern Jack the Ripper’.” He mimics quotes with his fingers, stopping in front of the classroom.

Doyun still doesn’t seem convinced, but it’s not Jungkook’s job to make him less stupid. He can believe what he wants, he’s not an investigator even though he thinks he is.

“See you at practice, alright?”

“Yeah, later, man.”

Jungkook has never been very attentive in class. He doesn’t care about a lot of things and college is one of them. He wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for his parents and their high expectations of him.

He’s looking outside the windows, noticing the grey clouds, heavy rain pouring from the sky. A flash of lighting breaks through the sky, hearing the thunder a second after.

Nobody seems attentive either, all interested in the thunderstorm that’s starting. It might be the strongest they’ve seen in a couple of years.

“Crap,” the teacher says as the electricity is cut off, surely because of the thunder.

Girls are gasping, some of them whispering to each other about how creepy the situation has become while the professor waits for the power to get back on, wanting to continue teaching his class.

Jungkook’s phone lights up as he gets a new notification. He takes a glimpse, reading the text he just received.

doyun: practice’s canceled..

Great, Jungkook thinks. He really needed to get some steam off, but it won’t happen today.

“Sir!” A girl raises her hand, catching the attention of the professor. “All classes got canceled. Can we leave? Apparently, the power isn’t coming back in a few hours.”

“Well, I won’t teach in the dark…”

The professor seems quite disappointed, but he lets everyone go back home, seeing no point in staying if he can’t teach.

While exiting the classroom, Jungkook gets bumped into by someone. He doesn’t move much, but the person drops their books on the floor, bending down to pick them up hurriedly.

“Shit… Sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going,” you apologize, standing back up when you have all of your books in your arms.

“It’s fine,” Jungkook mumbles and you give him a straight smile, still feeling apologetic.

He recognizes you from highschool, a girl he never talked to, but who he knew the name of. Then, he watches you walking away for a short moment, eyeing your form up and down, memorizing it.

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩

You’re in the cafeteria, sitting with your friends, waiting for about a good 30 minutes now. The storm from yesterday is still ongoing, and the power is very unstable, cutting off every couple of times.

The finals are scheduled for today and the administration told the students to come regardless of the storm, thinking it would stop during the night. So you’re waiting to be sent to the gym where the exams are usually taking place, but seeing the electricity goes off and comes back every second, it isn’t the best time to start an exam.

People are free to go, it’s college after all, but most of the students are staying in case a decision is made. You know you wouldn’t want to skip your exam, that’s why you’re staying, even though it is starting to get really long.

No murder has happened since the beginning of the storm, confirming the police suspicions that it might be a wild animal doing this. A bear wouldn’t come out during a thunderstorm, hence why no bodies have been found or anyone going missing.

You don’t really know what to think about the whole thing. You never really experienced anything of the sort before, only ever seen it in the news, taking place in a far away city. Now, it’s really different to see it in person, seeing people grieving, freaking out.

You don’t understand how an animal would do such a thing, especially since they aren’t known to attack humans, or… eat them. But everybody is kind of desperate to find a culprit.

As you’re looking through your notes, you notice that you’re missing a piece of information that you absolutely need to know for your test. You would ask your friends, but none of them are in this class with you. Plus, you forgot your book so the only solution would be to go to the library.

The place is lit up by candles and oil lamps. The power doesn’t seem to have come back here.

The librarian isn’t even here, so you can’t ask her for directions, which would be really useful, but you’ll do without. You go to the biology section and start searching for the book you need. It takes you some time, carefully looking through the shelves until you notice an older edition of the book. You hope what you need is in there.

You start flipping the pages to the right chapter, but you jump out of surprise and drop the book to the floor at the sound of someone else’s voice.

“Aren’t you supposed to attend your exam?”

It’s the guy you bumped into yesterday; Jungkook.

What’s weird is that you didn’t at all hear him, you could have swore you were alone in the library. Guess he’s a really quiet walker, hence why you didn’t even see him coming out of the classroom the day before.

“Uh, y-yeah,” you stammer out, furrowing your brows. You bend down to pick up the book, his eyes following your movements closely. “Just had to come here for this,” you say and show the object in question in your hand. “What about you?”

He leans on the shelves beside him.

“Didn’t feel like wasting my time back there,” he explains and you nod, not really sure what he wants exactly… It’s not like you’re friends or anything.

You can’t see much of him with the low lighting in the library, but you still catch on the way he’s looking at you intently. It makes you slightly uncomfortable, considering he’s towering over you with all his height. And Jungkook is very tall compared to you.

“Is- Is there something else you wanted to ask me…?” You manage to let out, voice a bit shaky and uneasy.

“Are you scared?” he asks casually.

He steps closer to you, and you don’t understand why you don’t step back. It’s like you don’t dare.

“What?”

“The storm. Pretty intense, right?”

Is he really interested to know if you’re scared of storms or is he playing with you? Why would he even play with you in the first place, that’s what you wonder.

His behaviour really confuses you. It’s true that you don’t know him, but he isn’t the type of guy to just… creep girls out. Maybe it’s not his intention though?

“Oh, yeah… It’s- it’s nothing I've ever seen before,” you confess in a weak voice.

“Me neither,” Jungkook replies.

You hold the book against you tighter like it’s some sort of protection, or just as emotional support. You don’t know what’s up with him, but it has you feeling some type of way…

You feel the knot in your stomach getting tighter as he gets even closer, trapping you between him and the bookshelves.

Yes, you’re scared, but not of the storm… of him.

And… there’s a part of you that likes it — likes the attention he gives you, the way his dark eyes look at your body. His gaze makes you think of a carnivore, a predator.

You’re the food he was looking for.

“It’s really loud, isn’t it?” he observes. “I wonder… if you had to scream, would anybody hear you?”

That startles you right away.

“Jungkook-” Saying his name seems to catch his attention, his eyes looking directly into yours. “Stop it.”

He doesn’t break eye contact, and you’re destabilized by how long he can hold your gaze, a shiver running up your spine, making the hair on your arms stand up.

It’s only to whisper in your ear that his eyes leave yours.

“Stop what exactly?”

His hot breath hits the side of your neck, hearing your heart pounding in your chest, the knot in your stomach becoming heavier and heavier. Your hands clasp around your book, holding onto it for dear life as you gulp down the excess of saliva in your mouth.

You scrunch your eyes shut when you feel his hands on your hips, fingers sneaking under the hem of your top. Your core heats up, blood rushing to your cheeks… and clitoris.

“What do you want?” You breathe out, opening your eyes when Jungkook faces you again.

He takes the book from you, putting it back onto the shelves, not caring if it’s the wrong placement.

“Just a little bit of fun,” he answers, “wouldn’t you like that, hm?” He slips his index finger under the band of your skirt, pulling you closer to him, his lips only centimetres away from yours. “I know girls like you are too shy to ask for it… So I’m making the first move.”

“No, I-” You begin, but don’t have the time to finish your sentence.

“It’s fine, I’m gonna take the lead. You don’t have to worry about anything, pretty,” he tells you, tilting his head and pressing a light kiss to your lips. Surprisingly, you reciprocate it. He pulls his hand away from your skirt, enveloping it around your throat, not putting any pressure yet. “I knew you’d be into it, you’re a little freak, aren’t you?”

You don’t know what to answer. Is there even anything you can say back to him? What’s the point of lying when he has you trapped between his large body and the bookshelves, his tattooed fingers gripping your neck, his lips brushing over your face.

But would that be really a lie saying he’s wrong about you? He doesn’t know you…

He kisses you again, this time sloppier, his tongue dominating yours easily. He nudges your legs open with his knee, his other hand swiftly diving under the hem of your skirt, groping your flesh in a lewd way that keeps you out of breath — apart from the fact that his tongue is currently exploring your mouth.

He graces the bump of your pussy covered by your panties with his fingers, making your knees buckle at the unexpected contact. He rubs the pad of his middle finger over your clit, a whine escaping your throat, muffled by his mouth on yours. The moment is brief until he slips his hand into your underwear.

You try to make him stop by grabbing his wrist, pulling away from his lips to pathetically whisper a ‘p-please’ that makes him chuckle.

“Already begging for me, sweetheart?” He softly laughs, smirking at you. “Excited by the idea of a guy’s fingers in your little cunt instead of yours? Is that it?”

You frown because that wasn’t the reason why you begged him, but now that he said this… your thoughts are going into a completely different way. What’s wrong with you?

“Do you wanna know how it feels, baby? How it’s like to have your pussy stuffed by someone else’s fingers…”

He’s not waiting for an answer as he starts stroking your bud of nerves in slow circular motions, applying some pressure to really make you feel it. You let out another whine, this time of pleasure.

Jungkook then shifts down to your entrance, circling it with a lot of delicacy, but this gentleness of his doesn’t go on for long as he pushes a finger into you. You bite down on your bottom lip — the size of his fingers are in no comparison to yours. Your eyes swell up in water, little cries escaping your mouth when he adds a second digit.

“I know, I know,” he whispers, “must be uncomfortable, hm?” You nod your head, confirming his words. “It’ll feel good soon, I promise. You’re used to the feel of your tiny fingers, it’s normal…”

When he says this, you have a hard time believing him. How could it feel good when you weren’t at all prepared for this — when it’s not what you wanted.

He begins to move his fingers inside of you, slow and long strokes at first, circling your clit with his thumb at the same time. He curls his fingers, making a little hook, patting your sweet spot. The intrusion is uncomfortable, but it progressively gets so much more pleasurable as he thrusts into you at a regular pace.

Tears are still falling down from your eyes, eyelashes wet and sticky, but they aren’t the result of your pain…

“You’re pretty when you cry,” Jungkook murmurs beside your ear, butterflies in your stomach when he tells you this.

He unwraps his hand from your throat to instead grab your thigh, placing your leg around his hip. You now feel his fingers way deeper inside of you, gently and deliciously stimulating your g-spot. You dare to look down where his left hand is operating between your thighs, sliding in until he’s knuckles deep into your pussy. This makes you breathless, head rolling back on your shoulders and hitting the shelves behind you.

“Oh, my god-!” You exclaim when Jungkook’s ministrations bring you so close to your orgasm. Your legs are twitching, your body warning you of your approaching high.

You’d probably be more aware of his hard cock trapped in his baggy jeans, but you literally cannot focus on anything else other than Jungkook fingering you, hitting your sensitive spot each time he thrusts in.

“That’s it, baby,” he encourages, moving faster. “You feel it? Huh?” He asks and you croak out a weak ‘yes’. “Tell me how it feels.”

You hate his questions — you hate them so much. He knows how you feel, but he wants you to say it, he wants you to say that you enjoy it, and… your body really does.

“G-Good.”

“Yeah?” he breathes out, fucking your cunt with his fingers, enthralled by the little moans you let out.

“Yes,” you confirm, closing your eyes and nodding your head. “Fuck!” You curse out when you finally reach your high, grasping onto his forearm as you ride out your orgasm, your entire body shaking.

Jungkook helps you by slowly rubbing your puffy clit in circles, telling you more dirty words in your ear, all said in the sweetest voice, as if what he’s doing can be described as anything sweet.

“Good girl,” he praises, “see, I told you it’d feel great.”

He still has his head in the crook of your neck, and you frown at the feeling of sharp teeth against your skin. It’s barely there, just brushing over it, as if hesitating to act… but Jungkook retrieves back, looking into your reddened eyes.

He could stop there, but he won’t — though he got what he wanted, he needs more…

He pulls his hand out of your panties, fingers glistening in your arousal. “Open wide for me, baby,” he instructs.

You glance at his hand, a little repulsed. You’ve never thought about tasting yourself and it’s surely nothing you’d have ever done… if not for Jungkook.

You then reluctantly open your mouth and he enters his wet fingers in.

“Suck,” he adds on, expecting you to follow his orders, and you do without a second thought.

He stares down at you while you lick his fingers clean and he slides them a bit deeper, pushing down on your tongue. The taste of yourself isn’t what you thought it’d be… It doesn’t taste much, in fact.

He removes his fingers from your mouth only to put them in his own after. “As sweet as you are,” he grins. “Turn around.”

You hesitate for a second, looking at him credulously, before doing what he asked you to do on trembling legs.

“Are you…?” You say under your breath, looking over your shoulder and seeing Jungkook pulling the zipper of his pants down.

“Going to put my cock into you?” he finishes your question for you. “Yeah, I am.”

You stop breathing at his answer, sensing his deft fingers touching your thighs and hips, going under your skirt to drag your panties down.

He soon gets his cock out of his briefs, pumping himself a couple of times before aligning his head with your dripping wet entrance. His tattooed hand keeps your skirt crumpled up over your ass, laying the other one on your hip.

“Careful, sweetheart,” he says softly beside your ear, “because this might sting a little bit more than two fingers.” He swipes the head of his cock through your sticky folds and all you can do is moan pathetically at the feeling, lewd, wet noises echoing in the big library.

You can’t see his length even with the way you contort your head to look over your shoulder, but you’re still able to see his chest and hips moving as he pushes his cock into your pussy. Though you have no idea what he looks like, the painful feeling of your cunt getting stretched out to his size tells you he’s really big.

And he was right. This hurts way more than his fingers, the two feelings are not comparable at all.

“Jungkook-,” you cry out, holding the shelves in front of you till there’s no more blood in your knuckles.

He hears you, loving the sounds you’re making because of him and the way you say his name with eyes full of tears. When he bottoms out inside of you, his pelvis flushed against your ass, he lets out a low grunt and throws his head back, closing his eyes to savour the pleasure entirely.

You involuntarily clench around him, making him tighten his grip on your hip. He then starts thrusting into you, his cock sliding in and out of your pussy at a slow but harsh pace. Each time he bottoms out, Jungkook makes sure the skin of his thighs slap against your ass, the sounds almost as loud as your little moans and whimpers.

But the storm is so intense and noisy that he’s pretty sure nobody else in the library could hear you — if there was anyone here apart from the two of you anyway.

Your wetness allows him to fuck his cock into your pussy back and forth, welcoming him so perfectly without any restriction. It’s almost impossible for him to not hit your sweet spot, and he reaches so much deeper when he lifts up your thigh with the hand that was previously placed on your hip.

You don’t know how long you can stay in this position, especially when Jungkook’s drilling his hard cock into you like nothing else matters. It’s like he needs it from you, and as the pleasure only builds up in you, you start thinking you need it desperately, too.

You’re breathing heavily, and so is he, feeling his hot breath on your neck when he tilts his head down closer to yours. You can clearly hear his breathing now as well as his deep grunts that leave his mouth every time your walls close tightly around his girth, literally sucking him in.

“Shit,” he curses out as he pushes lightly on your back, deepening the arch of it so your ass is flushed against his pelvis. “How could I have ever passed over you… You’re so- fuck,” Jungkook chokes out, not finishing his sentence, but you have a guess on what he wanted to say.

He then kisses your neck pretty messily, but it only raises the temperature of your body, your skin boiling hot under his soft lips. He leaves a wet trail behind, going up to your ear, down to your shoulder.

Telling him to stop isn’t even possible anymore, it wouldn’t make any sense… would be absolutely stupid when you’re so close to your second orgasm.

As he thrusts into you, his balls smack your pussy, and the sounds are just too vulgar, but it’s honestly arousing you so much. Jungkook lets go of your thigh to take a hold of your jaw, turning it around so he can look at your face.

Your mouth is ajar to let out big puffs of air, and it’s the same for him, his breathing being irregular and heavy. He didn’t think he would ever need something that badly, which is making you his, surprisingly enough.

Making you his in whatever way possible; whether it’s by fucking you or eating you — or both. Jungkook doesn’t care, he just wants it.

It doesn’t take long for your second orgasm to pass through you, arms and legs shaking as the knot at the pit of your stomach snaps. Jungkook feels it very clearly, your walls hugging his cock terribly tightly, bringing him closer to his own orgasm as well.

“Holy fuck,” he hisses, his hip thrusts accelerating, literally burying his cock in your cunt until he slips out. He rapidly strokes himself and cums on your ass, strings of white cum falling on you. “Oh, god…”

He stays in this position for a couple of seconds, catching his breath. He then slightly backs away, making sure to keep your skirt crumpled up over your butt, looking at the mess he made of you.

Suddenly, you both catch on the voices entering the library, making you rush to dress up and clean yourselves — especially you.

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩

You’re in your bedroom, studying and writing down on your notebook while lying down on your bed. It’s relatively quiet in your house, hearing the TV downstairs playing and the ceiling fan above your head running.

The ringtone of your cellphone breaks the silence, buzzing on top of your bedsheets. It’s a number that you don’t recognize, but the first digitals show you that it’s a number from your area. So you pick it up.

“Hello?”

“Hey, pretty.”

“Uh, who is this?” You ask the person on the other side of the line because you have no idea who would call you like this. They must know you.

“Take a guess,” they say, and their tone is oddly a little flirty.

You frown, starting to remember where you heard this voice for the last time… And in which situation exactly.

“... Jungkook?”

He laughs at that and you can imagine the cheeky smile he’s sporting right now.

“You got it,” he replies, “see, I knew you’d remember me.”

You immediately feel uneasy despite the fact you’re just talking through the phone, but things have happened since your encounter with Jungkook.

Things such as more dead girls, all brutally murdered by this ‘animal’.

You suspected nothing until you noticed how tired looking Jungkook was a day or two after what happened in the library. Normally, you wouldn’t have looked at him, but you literally couldn’t get him out of your head after how intimate the both of you had been together.

Each time he was in the same hallway as you, you’d give him a glance and nothing more as you were too shy to talk to him or even look at him for too long.

But sometimes you dared to watch him a little longer when he didn’t know you were in the same room as him.

And you saw the dark circles, the bad attitude he had with his friends, and the disdain look he seemed to give to everybody. You also saw him get in his car with a girl. You were jealous for a second, but you felt totally different the next day when that same girl went missing and that Jungkook seemed to be doing fine again.

At first, it was just silly thoughts, but it was too strong of a coincidence, you couldn’t think about anything else.

“Yeah…” You say back, shoulders tense as you sit up on your bed. “How did you get my number?”

“Asked Doyun for it,” he simply explains. “You did a project back in highschool together. Remember?”

You do remember. You were so stressed out about it. Paired with a popular jock? You believed the teacher was against you, but it turned out that Doyun was way nicer than you thought.

“Luckily, you didn’t change numbers.”

Lucky for who?

“Right,” you huff out, looking through your window, a shiver passing through you at the thought of Jungkook hiding somewhere.

“What’re you doing?” he asks.

“Uhm, just studying… Why?”

“Wanna go out with me?” Jungkook proposes after a few seconds of silence.

You look through your window again. It’s dark outside. This would be such a bad idea…

“It’s 9 p.m. on a Thursday night,” you begin, sounding way too bitchy for his liking, “where would we go? And why would I even go out with you…”

“The park’s always open,” he adds.

“What-”

“Relax. Nothing bad gonna happen, alright?" his voice resonates through the phone, hearing a slight laugh after. "I miss you, that's all."

You bite down on your lip, shaking your head to get all of your stupid thoughts away. As much as you hate to admit it, you love hearing that from Jungkook. That’s all you wanted him to say since he left you in the library… tell you he needs you as much as you need him.

But this isn’t the time for that — there won’t ever be another time anyway.

You respond nothing and so he takes it as a yes. “I’ll come pick you up in 10 minutes. Put something pretty on,” he chuckles, hanging up.

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩

The park isn’t an open space with benches and a fountain. It’s basically the woods where you go for hiking. There are paths you can follow that will all lead you to the same place at the end.

You could have thought of something smarter, or less dangerous, but you didn’t have any time. Jungkook showed up at your entrance precisely 10 minutes after he hung up and you weren’t exactly ready to see him just yet.

You had to get in his car anyway, the whole ride being quiet until you arrived at your destination. Your stomach churned up the moment you entered the woods, Jungkook behind you.

Your heart is still beating super fast right now, whether it’s because you’re absolutely scared or because Jungkook is kissing you feverishly, it doesn’t matter. You can’t do this, and you don’t know how it might end for you if you let yourself be distracted by him.

“Jungkook,” you manage to say between kisses. You push harder on his chest, making him stop from putting his tongue in your mouth. “We need to talk,” you say firmly.

“About what?” he chuckles, diving back down to the crook of your neck where he plants wet kisses, his hand sneaking up under your dress while the other holds your hip.

You squirm, fighting hard to not let yourself give in to his touch.

“I saw… I saw Jia and you getting into your car the other day,” you confess and he backs away from your neck when he hears that, looking intently at your face.

“And? You were jealous, is that it?” He questions, lifting one eyebrow.

“No! I mean-,” you answer right after, thinking about what to say and how to say it. “She went missing the day after you saw her, and-”

Jungkook gets visibly annoyed, trapping his bottom lip between his teeth. He lets go of you, still looking at you, but not with lustful eyes anymore.

“What? What are you trying to say, huh?” He huffs out. “That I killed her? Fucking crazy.”

You feel bad. Is he really guilty?

He has to be. You know he is.

“Back in the library,” you begin to say, “were you… did you intend to kill me?” You eventually say it all, breath caught in your throat as you watch Jungkook registering your words.

He sighs, “why would it matter?” You frown at that, about to respond, but he steps closer to you, trapping you between him and the tree again. “Just let me take care of you, gonna make you feel good, baby…”

He slips his hands under your dress so rapidly that you don’t have any time to react, immediately overwhelmed by his groping and his lips all over you.

But you get back your senses, using all your force to push him away. You succeed to have a safe distance between the two of you.

“So you’re admitting it!? You wanted to- to do the same thing to me!”

“No,” he disagrees, his voice harsh, sounding quite annoyed. “I just wanted- Fuck!” he exclaims angrily, but it’s like he doesn’t know what to say.

“You could have everybody you wanted, Jungkook,” you state, looking him into the eyes, “why me?”

He looks back at you and you wonder how you couldn’t have seen it before… The evil.

“Why not? You’re hot, kinda a stuck-up, but I had to try it, you know,” he chuckles. “For a nerdy girl, you sure know how to take dick.”

It angers you to a point…

“Fuck you!”

And without thinking twice, you reach down to pick up the pocket knife you hid in your boot before.

You open it and you rush toward Jungkook, stabbing him in his lower stomach. You retrieve the knife a bit too hastily, resulting in you dropping it and falling down on your butt to the ground.

Jungkook also falls down, holding onto his stomach, red blood dripping out of his cut onto his hands. He yells out many curses, sucking air through his teeth to appease the pain as much as he can.

You watch him, startled and out of breath, eventually turning around and searching for your knife. When you find it, you get back up and to Jungkook, but he isn’t there anymore.

He has completely disappeared.

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩

#bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts smut #bts x reader #jungkook x reader #jungkook fic #jungkook smut

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cherriesformatt · 2 days

Text

first mother’s day || matt sturniolo

summary: little blurb about celebrating your first Mother’s Day it’s Matt and your daughter

world count:

a/n: just a little part to the pregnancy series 🤭 since it’s mother’s day tomorrow. I didn’t prof read yet

🍒

I woke up because first of all I did not hear white noise from the camera monitor and also didn’t feel Matt’s presence next to me. I slept whole night and that was surprising because we came here and Noa was in the room next to us. We traveled to Boston to see Marylou.

I stretched in bed and opened my eyes. I looked at the monitor and Noa’s crib was empty so she must have woke up already. I looked at the clock and it was 10.

“What the fuck?” I stood up from the bed.

I usually was up like at 6 to feed her and get her ready for the day. I opened the doors and smell of bagels and coffee filled my nose.

I was wearing Matt’s tee and pajama pants and I grabbed my glasses before I left my room.

I went downstairs into the kitchen and I gasped.

“Happy First Mother’s Day baby!” Matt yelled at me and I was literally stunned.

“Happy Mother’s Day y/n!!!!” The rest of the family was also there.

There were flowers everywhere. Kitchen was filled with all my and their mom’s favorite food and snacks. There were gift bags and I looked at my little girl. She was all happy in her chair. She was wearing a dress and she had a little bow in her hair. He dressed her up so cute. She squinted when she saw me.

“What is this all? Oh my god guys… you didn’t have to… come here my beautiful baby” I picked her up and kissed her head few times.

“Well…I wanted to do something special for you” he kissed my head.

“Thank you guys…and Happy Mother’s Day” I looked at them and than Marylou and came to give her big hug.

“Oh honey it’s all about you today” She said giving me a big smile.

“Oh no if it wasn’t about you then I wouldn’t have all of this” I smiled and kissed Noa’a cheek.

“Look at you baby….dada picked up such a beautiful outfit for you” I said to my daughter.

“Well… it was Mom and actually she got that outfit from Justin” He said scratching his neck.

“Of course… Matt wouldn’t put her in all pink but uncle Justin got her” Justin smiled and I laughed.

“You’re so cheesy Justin” I said and Noa wanted to go to her grandma so I let Marylou take her.

“I slept till now it’s a miracle” I said to Matt.

“I was hoping you will…” He said and gave me a quick kiss.

We talked and have the breakfast all together as we watched Noa play with Trever on the floor. She was 9 months now and she was so independent already. I had tears in my eyes every time I thought about her growing so fast. I was such a mother.

“Okay so we let mom already open her presents but those are all for you” Matt said when I was sipping my juice sitting at the island when he was cleaning.

“Matt you literally didn’t have to get me anything I am happy we can be here and spend time as family” I said taking the bags.

“I need to make my baby momma happy” he said and I just made a face at him.

“Don’t ever say that” I laughed and opened the gifts.

One of them was a designer bag from Matt and matching shoes from Nick and Chris. Cards and charms to my bracelet from their parents. I also got spa day voucher from Justin.

“You all are impossible spending money on my like that! It’s… thank you” I said and just came and gave Matt a big hug.

“I love you so so so much thank you for making me a mom” I closed my eyes when my head rested on his chest.

“See… that’s a crazy thing to say as well” he said and I laughed.

“But I love you too… and it was all Noa don’t look at me” He hugged me tight to him.

“They all also said we should go out tonight and they will watch Noa for us” he smiled.

“Are you inviting me for a date?” I smiled back.

“Yes… it’s a date” he said.

“Let me think about it” I said just to fuck with him a little.

“I hate you” he said and i stand on my toes to kiss his lips.

He kissed me back and than I smiled even more. It was all perfect today.

#chris sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #nick sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo x reader

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girlokwhatever · 3 days

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based on a request where reader meets kate’s family!

⊹ ࣪ ˖✩°｡🦦*ੈ✩‧₊˚-‘๑ meet the martins,,

kate martin x fem!reader

you were beyond nervous. today was the fateful day where you were meeting kate’s parents for the first time. you knew they’d be welcoming considering how amazing their daughter was, but you didn’t know if you’d be able to impress them enough.

kate asked you to be her girlfriend six months ago. the almost unbearable time before that where you two would flirt until your heads spun was about three months long. you considered yourself the luckiest person in the world to have kate, and vice-versa.

you and kate where about to leave university to spend the weekend in her hometown, lugging your bags into the back of her car. as soon as everything was ready she started the car and drove off, deciding now would be a good time to drop a bomb on you.

“so.. babe,”

“kate..”

“i jus’ wanna let you know my siblings are gonna be there too..”

“okay.. okay. that’s nice. it’s good actually. just knock it all out at once..”

kate smiled over in your direction but you didn’t see it, facing the window as you let out a deep breath. she knows you’re unbelievably nervous because the only person you’ll know there is her, but she knows everyone will love you.

you spend the rest of the car ride trying to relax. you try meditation, deep breathing exercises, and even sleep. your girlfriend says nothing, trying to let you cope with your nerves.

when kate pulls into her childhood home’s driveway you’re sleeping, head and hair pressed gently against the side of the seat. she gently grasps your shoulder and leans in to press a kiss behind your ear, whispering that you’ve both arrived. you wake with a startled expression, disbelief written across your face.

“what?! kate! why didn’t you wake me up earlier, i’m probably a mess right now!”

you’re not mad, just panicking. you try to press your hair back down into place and smooth out your sundress but your frantic attempt doesn’t help you much.

“baby you look amazing, i swear.”

you look at her, slightly pouting at the situation. she seizes the moment, taking the opportunity to press and kiss to your lips. some of your worry slips away with her silent reassurance, feeling more confident and accepting that whatever happens, happens.

suddenly you remember the flowers you bought for her mom, pulling away from your girlfriend to grab them from the backseat. kate said these were her favorites so of course you had to buy some.

“are you ready?”

you nod, feeling some of your anxiety resurfacing. you’re not sure why it was so nerve wracking for you. there have been times in the past when you met your partner’s parents and it never made you feel this way. maybe because kate is the best thing is the best thing that ever happened to you and you never want to lose her.

as soon as kate knocks the door swings open, revealing both of her parents. her mom is smiling wide at you and her dad is too, beer in hand. you don’t miss the loud thudding of steps from her siblings either, both of them greeting you with similar smiles.

“okay guys, you don’t have to stand and stare like robots.” she’s joking, pulling her mom and dad in for a hug all at once. her sister kennedy pulls you inside as she introduces herself but you’ve heard so much about her from kate you feel like you’ve known her all your life.

“everyone, this is my wonderful girlfriend, please don’t suffocate her while i go get our stuff from the car.”

“oh kate, i can help you-”

her mother touches your shoulder, stopping you in your tracks in your pursuit to follow kate. “trevor can help kate, you stay here. you’re our guest!”

kate rubs her hand on your back before she departs. she’s giving you this ‘just relax’ look, so you really try. it’s not difficult to think that this is where kate grew up, baby pictures and her warm vanilla scent lingers everywhere.

once you snap back to reality, kate’s mom is looking at you so genuinely and with so much certainty you feel as though this is already your family. you feel bad watching trevor leave but he doesn’t seem to mind at all, helping ease your conscious. this house feels so familiar to you, almost as if kate embodies this space she grew up in. loving, accepting, cherishing, and sweet.

“oh! i bought these for you. kate said they were your favorite.”

you hold the flowers in her direction, watching her face light up as if she hadn’t noticed them until now. you all drift to the kitchen as she thanks you, getting out a vase to set them in. she’s bubbly, smile wide and cheeks a perfect shade of pink you recognize from kate.

they’re all so welcoming to you, patting you on the back and squeezing your shoulders every so often. their aura exudes love and positivity, spreading into your bones and helping you sink into the moment. all your worry is left behind, pure excitement taking over at the prospect of the rest of your weekend here.

a few hours later you’re all sitting outside on the back patio. you’re in kate’s arms laying on the couch, her parents sitting across you both, and trevor and kennedy in two lounge chairs.

kate places her chin on the top of your head, wanting to engulf your entire being. the sight of you laughing and making jokes with her closest family melts her heart. she admires every single second you spend just laughing at something someone said, feeling as though you were meant to be here in this moment.

you’re all mid laugh after kennedy recalls a high school basketball fail memory when her eyes widen, gasping loud and holding back a laugh.

“did kate tell you- oh my goodness. did kate tell you she used to have the most aggressive side part ever?!”

kate’s eyes widen at the exposure, face turning red when she tries covering your ears even though she already knows you’ve heard it already. your jaw goes slack because you had no idea, and think it’s absolutely hilarious.

“what?! no! i had no idea! she never said anything.”

“really kate? you’ve never shown her a high school photo?” her mom speaks through laughs, kate’s face and the reveal stuck in her mind.

“oh my god- was this a whole high school career thing?”

“yes! at least five years, i’m surprised it didn’t get stuck that way.”

everyone’s in on the conversation now and the inside joke begins to form. even with her embarrassment, kate doesn’t mind much because it’s you, joking with her family. she’d go through a million moments like this if it meant bringing you closer with the people she loves most.

through the hysteria, kate meets her mom’s eyes. the approving smile is present, a silent ‘you got a good one’ look that tells kate all she needs to know. of course she was certain her family would love you, but she didn’t know it’d be so easy, all the pieces falling into place. kate smiles back, trying to burn this memory into her mind forever.

after dark everyone’s drifting back inside and bidding trevor and kennedy goodbye. you hug them both, telling them how amazing you think they are and you’re really happy to have met them. they tell you the same, especially kennedy who sneaks in a joke about how you’re her ‘future sister.’ your heart stutters at that, the idea of being kate’s wife giving you butterflies in your stomach.

it’s when kate places her hand in yours and guides you to her bedroom that her mom really knows. with absolute confidence she knows how deeply in love her daughter is with you. she knows kate has found her soulmate from the way she’s always watching over you, making sure you’re alright. it’s mother’s intuition, she just knows.

kate hands you your towel, kissing your forehead as you exit the shower and she takes your place. you’re brushing your hair when she asks you how you feel about her family.

“i really love them kate. they’re all so sweet and funny. they really were so welcoming.”

“yeah, i can tell everyone really likes you.”

it makes you feel good to hear to say that, like it’s an official welcome into her family. and it means everything to you, knowing how much family means to kate. knowing she brought you here to see where she grew up and who she grew up with.

“i’ll be right back kate, i left my socks in your room.”

“okay! i love you!” her voice fades as you walk out, shouting out a quick ‘i love you’ back. because you really do love her, more than anything.

you’re searching through your bag when you hear a gentle knock on the open door, turning to see kate’s mom jill.

“hey! is everything okay?”

“oh yeah, everything great. i just wanted to tell you it was really amazing to meet you. you’re a wonderful girl, and i can tell kate really loves you,” her voices lowers a bit as she speaks again, “y’know, kate’s never really had a serious girlfriend, you’re the first girl she’s ever brought home. i know she’s happy with you, so thank you for being so good to her. and you’re welcomed here anytime.”

you’re at a loss for words, thankful for the praise and slightly shocked by the news that kate hasn’t ever brought a girl home. you and kate never discussed dating history in detail and it didn’t matter to you. it still doesn’t. your heart pounds and warms your body, flustered because of how well jill thinks of you.

“well, thank you for having me. i really appreciate how welcoming everyone was today, it means a lot. i really feel happy here and hopefully we’ll get to come back soon.”

her mom smiles and nods, kissing your cheek as she says goodnight to you. the whole interaction is almost surreal. your love for kate grows impossibly larger knowing that the love you two share is so easy to notice.

your girlfriend walks into her room and spots you, picking you up bridal-style before laying down in bed. you straddle her, eyes gleaming at her big silly grin. she reaches for you hands and kisses them repeatedly, closing her eyes and melting into the touch.

“i love you so much, never wanna be without you.”

“i never want to be without you either,” you’re leaning down, kissing her skin wherever you feel it. she’s warm and soft from the shower, skin smooth and perfect for leaning into.

“i want to marry you.”

“kate, don’t say those things.”

your heart pounds for what feels like the millionth time that day, not sure if she’s saying it just because of the heat of the moment. either way, you know with absolute certainty that you would want to marry her too and if she asked you’d say yes.

“why not? i mean it. i want to marry you.” and she’s not lying, she really does mean it. with the deepest parts of her soul she means it and knows it’s true. she thinks she’ll buy you and ring the second she gets back to iowa, feeling a sudden urgency to bond your love.

“i want to marry you too.”

you both stare at each other wordlessly, the only thing existing between you is the love you share. she kisses you again and again, feeling that if she doesn’t you’ll just disappear because you’re too good to be true. she holds you tighter because she fears you might vanish or realize you don’t actually want this.

but you do. you both do. you’ll always love kate even in death, wherever that may take you. you know that for certain, just as certain as kate is about her love and adoration for you.

“mrs. martin. i like that.”

“for you or me?”

“for us. i want to be with you forever, future mrs. martin.”

ੈ✩‧₊˚⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ

GUYS I REALLY LIKE THIS. i want to turn it into a little series of reader and kate’s future (wedding, kids, etc.)

WHAT DO YOU THINK

#kate martin x reader #kate martin #iowa wbb #kate money martin #i need kate martin #kate martin smut #vote for kate #iowa women’s basketball #iowa hawkeyes

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lure-of-writing · 3 days

Text

His little Sister: I'm sorry

Summary: The mating bond between you and Azriel has been revealed and he isn't sure if any apology will ever make up for the hurt he has cause you.

Word count: 4k

Warnings: none that I know of

Authors note: Guys I just got my nails done so if there is typos it's because I'm not used to typing with daggers on my hands. But anyways that's not what we're here for. Please enjoy and let me know what you think!

Azriel was screwed. Royally screwed. Even as the spymaster of the night court he had no idea how he was going to get out of this one unscathed. First and foremost there was you. You were the mosting important thing in this giant mess that your cousin just caused and making sure you were ok was his first priority. That is once you inevitably get all of the hurt and betrayal out of your system. He could feel your emotions barrelling down the bond and it damn near made him crumple under the weight of your hurt. Next on the list of casualties was Rhysand. And by the look on the high lord's face it was a mixture of pure unfiltered anger and the need to protect his little sister. Azriel can’t blame him, you look like you could either rip him to shreds and bawl your eyes out while doing so.

Rationally Azriel knew that Rhys would never really do anything to hurt him but the other part knew that Rhysand played dirty when it came to his family and it was some sort of unwritten rule that he would go to the end of the world to make sure you were ok. If Rhysand played dirty before he was about to get filthy now. This would not be the first time he stepped toe to toe against a high lord, specifically against Rhys, but this time would without a doubt be different. This time Rhysand would pocket away all of the years of their friendship and in turn he would fight Azriel like a traitor. He, without trying, had broken your heart and betrayed your trust. To Rhysand this was the ultimate act of betrayal.

Only being one hundred years younger than your brother means all three males were also relatively young in the grand scheme of things. Rhysand held your tiny body against his. The three males had taken a break forming training in the mountains to visit you in Velaris. It wasn’t often Rhysand was allowed to leave the camps, much less often for Azriel and Cassian. But with the arrival of a new babe they had been permitted to leave. It became a tradition to visit the ever growing babe once a year. Somewhere in the chaos of training for the Blood Rite you had grown into a teenager. Cassian was sprawled out on one of the couches in the cabin and Azirel had taken his place in the chair that was unofficially deemed as his. There in a seat a little bit bigger than his own but yet still smaller than the couch Cassian claimed you were curled up against your older brother, peacefully sleeping.

Rhysand had always disliked the way things were run in the camps, oftentimes they made his blood boil but something changed in him the day you were born. Rhys knew from a young age that he would be a protector. A protector of his friends, his family, his people and his court. But he never knew that the most precious thing he would come to protect was you. He never wanted in the camps, walking amongst those who would take any opportunity to clip your wings or even kill you without a second thought. Unfortunately there was nothing he could do to stop your visit as your father deemed it necessary.

Silence was light in the room. Occasionally there was a pop or crackle from the fire, the sound of clothes shifting against the couch from Cassian and the light noise of you breathing. With a heavy sigh Rhys rubbed his face causing both males to look at their friend in confusion. “Something on your mind brother?” Cassian's deep voice filled the once quiet room. For a moment nothing was said as Rhysand just looked deep into the fire before once again sighing and rubbing his face before throwing his head back to rest on the couch. “What if I’m not capable of protecting her?” The two males looked at each other in confusion before turning their attention back on their friend. Everyone knew that the power Rhys possessed was quite frankly, insane, to put it simply. “Rhys, I think you're forgetting you are there, bud.” Once more Cassian's voice takes over the room. This time in a gentle laughter. “It’s not that I’m unaware of what I am capable of.” Rhys stops speaking as he looks down at your resting form laying against him. Gently he moves a piece of hair that had fallen in your face. “I know what I can do. What I am willing to do to keep her safe but I will not always be around to protect her and that is what I fear.”

“Being her brother is the greatest honor I have ever been given but what if I fail? What will it cost her? Just her being here possesses a threat to her life. Those males out there would not hesitate to clip her wings or flat out kill her. What happens when I am needed elsewhere and she is in trouble? Who will save her then? I know my mother is training her to fight but I never want her to be put in that position where she has to. Making sure she is safe, happy and loved is all I want for her. I never want her to experience the world we have endured.”

Neither males have a sister but they do have the love of siblings for each other and they know the lengths they would go to for the other males. They may not know what it's like to have a sibling but they do know what it's like to love you. Since the day you were born they have done nothing but love and dote on you. If you tripped and fell and scraped your knees Cassian would scoop you up and cradle you until you stopped crying. Only then would he set you somewhere where he could properly clean the cuts littering your body and then take you for a treat to make you feel better. Azriel would help you with any of the boring assignments your mother would hand out. “I don’t even know what this means!” you would groan out in frustration before dramatically letting your head fall face first into the book. Luckly Az knew you very well. Without looking up from what he was doing he placed his hand palm up in the book and waited for the impact of your head against his hand.

Finally once your head was in his hand, did he finally look up. “You may not understand it right now but eventually you will and you will be grateful your mother made you do this.” Groaning once more you left your head where it was. “Easy for you to say you're like a genius or something.” You grumble while Azriel lifts your head for you. Gently he pats the top of your head. “Maybe if you studied more you could be one too.” A mixture of a frustrated groan and sigh made its way through your lips causing Azriel to chuckle.

It was safe to say that they understood what a light you are in the world. In their world. And each male would do anything to protect it. “You know we would protect her with our lives, right?” Cassian now sat up on the couch. This conversation was important. “We have known her since the day she was born. We have watched her grow and reach each millstone just like you have Rhys. We would never let anything happen to her. If it were my life or hers, I would happily give up mine. I’m sure Az feels the same way.” And Azriel did. “You don’t have to worry about her by yourself. We can share the worry Rhys. You know you can count on us. If anything ever happens to you, we will protect her just as fiercely as you do. You know that right?” And Rhysand did in fact know that but there would always be some part of him that thinks only he will ever be able to do a good enough job at keeping you safe.

Apparently Rhysand was right. Only he would protect you. Azriel had broken his promise and now he would pay. Next on his list of people to deal with was Morrigian. At the moment she was not a priority but eventually would be. First he needed to survive the night.

If Azriel were to go back in time less than a week ago, he would have been more or less avoiding you. After his talk with Rhysand about the more interesting part of your relationship the shadowsinger thought it would be a good idea to give you some space, not wanting it to seem like he was trying to pursue something with you. Obviously that was the exact opposite of what he wanted but he was also keenly aware of your brother's disapproval of any male you chose to date. Azriel was sure he wouldn’t fare better than the others. On the other side Azriel truly had no idea how you would react to you being his mate and that terrified him.

He hadn’t seen you much since the training incident with Cassian. As much as it bothered him to not be able to check on your healing himself he had Cassian right there basically giving me second by second updates. Which he did appreciate but since Cassian knew you were his brother's mate he was being a little over the top. Which is why Azriel was not expecting to see you on the rooftop for the daily morning training session.

Az and his shadows watched from across the room as Cass ushered you back towards the house. That was until you saw him and course corrected to be right in front of him. “You’ve been avoiding me. Why?” The hurt in your voice made him feel like a terrible person but he also couldn’t give you the real answer why. Not right now and definitely not right here. “I haven’t been avoiding you.” He knew he was whispering but he also knew there were more listening ears then just yours, mainly Cassians. Azriel watched as Cassian scooped you up and walked back to where he was herding you, just moments before you veered off on your own.

As the shadowsinger and spymaster of the night court there wasn’t much, if anything, that made him nervous. The piercing stare of your gaze following his every move was definitely unsettling. But his male ego wouldn’t let him slip into that unflinching state of mind that he would usually find himself in when sparring. Now he was keenly aware of each move he was making while in front of you. His need to impress didn’t go unnoticed by his brother. Thankfully Cassian decided to have mercy on his soul and let him get in a few good punches as his repayment for when Cassian did the same to him while in front of Nesta.

The daily sparring session was over sooner and also later then he wanted it to be. One part of him wanted to continue to impress you, even if he wasn’t a hundred percent sure that you were even impressed in the first place. The other part of him just really wants to get the awaiting conversation over with. Azriel headed over the bench where his long forgotten shirt and water bottle had been previously placed. He had barely gotten in one drink of water when you appeared in front of him. “Why have you been avoiding me?” It was the same question that you had previously asked him before being dragged away by Cassian. And yet this time it made him even more nervous then the first time you had asked him. The last thing Azriel ever wanted to do was make you feel like he didn’t want to be around you. Even before the bond he wanted to be around you every chance he could get and you knew that. He needed a reason you would believe. A downfall that came with spending all of his spare time with you is that you were able to tell when he was lying better than anyone else in the inner circle. There was only one thing he could tell you that wasn’t the full truth nor a complete lie. Rhys wasn’t a fan of the relationship, or lack thereof, between the two of us and he needed to step back in respect for Rhysand.

Thankfully the mother was on his side that morning because you believed him.

Opening up his arms in a form of some peace offering he’s quickly wrapped in your arms. Even though hugging anyone who was sweaty was something that he knew drove you crazy you did it anyways and it warmed his heart. But watching you place your chin on top of his chest just about made his heart melt. He prayed that you wouldn’t be able to feel or hear just how fast his heart is beating, and it is not from the training.

Oh how Azriel wished he could go back in time to just a few days ago. Hell he would even go back to when he was avoiding you. Truthfully anything would be better than what was currently unraveling in front of him.

“How long have you known?” Azriel tore his eyes away from Morr to look at you. The look of heartbreak that painted your face was like a suckerpunch to his gut. He took a sharp breath in. You were always stunning in Azriels eyes but looking at you now was like looking like a fallen angel. As much as the poetic beauty was undeniable he also never wanted to see that look on your face again. He would do anything to make you trust him again.

“I-” Azriel didn’t realize just how dry his throat was until he tried speaking. Actually now that he was focused on his body he was pretty sure he felt like he was going to throw up. Swallowing he takes another deep breath. A quick glance to his right reveals Rhysand with a raised eyebrow and barely contained anger. “I’ve known since the war.” Azriel always imagined this moment would be very different. Just the two of you in private. And it would finally feel like a brick being lifted off of his chest.

But watching your reaction to his confession felt like the opposite. He watched as you blew out a heavy breath and grabbed the back of Morrigians chair for support. Looking at the look he watches a tear finally free itself and makes its way to the ground. Just as quickly as the first tear had fallen the rest had also followed suit. He watches as you shake your head and look at your brother for the answer of what you are supposed to do. The dining room had never been as quiet as it was in these waking moments and Azriel despised it. Even if he was the cause of it. “You’ve known for almost a year and you never told me?” The spymaster watched as you fought against the lump in your throat only for your voice to crack on the last word. “Were you ever going to tell me? Or were you just going to let me continue to dream about the love I desired. Let me think I was never going to get the love Rhys and Fey have? You’ve known for months!” Azriel sat unmoving as your betrayal turned to sadness and then anger. You had never raised your voice and yelled at him before but he knew he deserved every ounce of anger you threw at him. “You-you out of all people knew how I felt about mates and yet you held this from me. My mate! I-I-I -oh my god.” Time seemed to slow down in that moment as he watched you grab your chest in pain then collapse to the floor. He felt himself rise. Azriel wasn’t sure why, was it to move to the other side of the table and comfort you? Was it in shock? Fear for your breaking heart? He wasn’t sure. It was like slow motion as Mor swiftly twisted out of her seat and caught your limp body on the way down to the floor. Together the two females sat on the floor. Morrigian had wrapped her arms around your body and held you pressed against her chest as you sobbed.

“Azriel!” That was the commanding voice of a high lord. The force of which Rhysand said his name and allowed his power to wash over him was the only thing capable of pulling his focus off of your crumpled body. Looking back to his right he notes that Rhysand has pushed the chair he was previously sitting in far behind him. It didn’t go unnoticed how Feyre made her way to you with urgency. The primal anger and need to protect his family also didn’t go unnoticed by the shadowsinger. He was about to get his ass beat. If not altogether killed. Rhysand may have been mad at Cassian for hurting you but he did go easy on him, even if it resulted in a few nasty bruises littering his body. Azriel knew for sure this would be nothing like that time. Rhysand had a look of death in his eyes and Azriel was sure death was waiting to greet him.

“Uh oh. Yeah you guys may want to get out of here it's about to get ugly.” Cassian also stood from where he was once seated and began stretching. Noting Feyres' worry Cassian continued “Don’t worry I won’t let them hurt each other too much.” He paused, “Well I won’t let them kill each other.”

Only after everyone except Mor and Cassian had winnowed away his Rhysand lunge at Azriel.

Ever since learning that you were his mate one of his shadows followed you religiously. He never even told them to do that, it was just something they did naturally. His shadows always were ones to keep an eye on you even if you were completely safe.

That's how he found himself in front of the river house. His shadows danced around him in warning of the two females sitting in the living room still awake at this hour. Without looking at a clock Azriel would assume it was around three in the morning. Gently he pushes the hard oak door open only closing it after allowing himself inside the quiet house. Azriel knew he could make his way to your room without either one of the females knowing but he assumed it was better to get everything that could tear him apart over with while he was down.

“I feel bad for her. I know what it's like when the other person knows they're your mate and you're left in the dark. But this is something else. If Mor hadn’t said anything would he?” He could hear the voice of his concerned high lady. “Do we know if she even still has a mate? Rhysand looked like he was going to kill him.” Nestas' voice that usually dripped in sarcasm was dry as bone. Stepping into the room he made his footsteps louder than he would ever step to announce his presence. A sharp gasp was the only noise that Feyre made as she brought her hands to cover her mouth. “Oh my gods” The scraping of the chair against the wooden floor pulls his gaze from the spot on the floor he found particularly interesting to see Feyre making her way over to him. Over her shoulder he could see Nesta taking inventory of the damage Rhysand caused. “Are you ok?” He shrugs off her question but allows her gentle hands to move his head from side to side.

“How is she?” Everybody knew who he was talking about. Feyre led him to the couch ushering him to sit down as Nesta answered “As well as you can expect.” Feyre had stepped out of the room to grab a pain relieving tonic “She just fell asleep a few minutes before you got here” she pushes the vial into his hands “Drink” she insists. “I never meant for it to go like this. For it to get this far without me telling her. I just was waiting for her to feel it herself but then I just kept waiting and waiting and waiting and the next thing I knew I was sitting at that table listening to Mor tell her. I promise I never meant to hurt her. You know that right? You have to believe me.” The constant throbbing throughout his body finally forced him to drink the tonic in hopes it could even touch the pain he was feeling. “I’m sure you never meant for this to happen az. But why didn’t you just tell her. Anyone with eyes could see that she already had feelings for you.’’

“I wanted it to be her choice. I would never force her to accept the bond. All I want is for her to be happy no matter what.” A heavy sigh fell from both females before the peaceful silence filled the room. Nesta was the first to leave in hopes of getting at least an hour of sleep before she needed to be awake for training. With a gentle squeeze of his arm Feyre stands above him “I Believe you Az. But you need to understand how hurt she is currently feeling.” looking up he sees not his high lady or Rhysands mate but a concerned friend. “I know I can feel it through the bond.” Feyre smiles sadly before stopping in the hallway leading to the bedrooms. “Go be with her Az. You both need it.”

The warmth of the fire was the first thing Azriel noticed upon entering your room. Although fae ran warmer than humans you were the rare exception. Unless absorbing heat from the sun or another person you were on average at least ten degrees colder than anyone else. A small smile found its away to his face to see the fire going. His own personal relationship with fire may be nonexistent but for you he would endure it a hundred times over. The next thing he noticed was your sniffling and quiet sobs. In three large strides he was kneeing besides your bed. “Y/n” you name was like a whisper of a prayer in a silent coven meant for worship. He watched as your eyes opened to meet his and listened as a sob racked your body. “I am so sorry baby” Quickly he raised from where he was previously knelt on the floor and climbed into bed with you. The move to place your body on top of his was easy but listening to the silent cries of your heart breaking wasn’t. “I never meant to hurt you I swear.”

Eventually the tears raining upon his chest and was replaced with the gentle breathing of your sleeping form. Azriel knew he should sleep but he couldn’t help but admire every part of you just in case this was the last time he got to hold you like this. That's why he wasn’t startled when Rhysand barged into your room, startling you awake. “I told you to stay away from her. I’m going to kill you.” He promised. Azriel didn’t take his eyes off of your brother as you raised to sit in between his legs. Rhysand could do whatever he wished but Azriel wouldn’t leave without making sure you were ok first. “Rhys don’t. You may be mad at him, but Azriel is my mate.” The bond had never sung in happiness like it did basking in the warmth of your acknowledgement.

Taglist

@kemillyfreitas @lana08 @willowpains @username199945 @tothestarsandwhateverend

@kylaisra @lilah-asteria @nickishadow139 @br0klynbby @blacktreacle22

@amysangel @mp-littlebit @mybestfriendmademe

@olive-main @mariahoedt @tele86 @marina468 @fangirlloza010 @kennedy-brooke

#acotar imagine #acotar x reader #acotar x you #azriel acotar #azriel x reader #azriel fanfic #azriel imagine #azriel shadowsinger #azriel angst #azriel one shot #rhysand x sister!reader

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macfrog · 22 hours

Text

backspin | bbf!frankie

surprise! we're taking a quick detour to fuck around with our brother's best friend again. what else is new.

pairing: bbf!frankie morales x fem!reader summary: you try to get even with frankie. it works. warnings: reader is santiago's younger sister, she and frankie do not get along, enemies to lovers, mention of throwing up, alcohol consumption, cursing, oral, more dickhead frankie and more sassy reader word count: 6.3k

part one: rack 'em | main masterlist | follow @macfroglets w notifs on to be the first to hear when i post 💙

So, you fucked around with Frankie.

It’s no big deal, right? It was just a one-time thing. There was tension, you guys relieved it. Scratched an itch. Served a purpose. You still fucking hate the guy, and he still fucking hates you.

Nothing’s changed.

Right?

Mal sprays wine all over the kitchen table when you tell her. Gargles a, Sorry – fuck – sorry, through what little of the alcohol is left in her mouth.

You wipe your face clean in the crook of your elbow. It’s in your fucking eyelashes. You blink the room back into focus, and – “Jesus, Mal!”

Dark droplets teeter around the edge of the table, threatening to plunge straight down onto your mom’s chair cushions – thus damning you to her very own personal hell for all eternity. You can feel the flames licking at your feet already.

Your best friend rips a sheet of paper towel and drags it over the wood – white bleeding violet at the first swipe. “Why’d you tell me as I was taking a sip?”

“I didn’t think you’d fucking hose me down,” you hiss, taking the soaked crumple from her hands.

“You didn’t think I’d be a little surprised that you and Catfish Morales hooked up? Are you fucking ser–? Actually, you know what? I’m not that surprised.”

You glare at her from the sink, upper lip curled.

Mallory Bennett has been privy to your every thought since you were six years old. Hand in hand, arms swinging as you marched into first grade together.

Most days, you barely have to open your mouth – one flinching expression, one flash of eye contact, and she can parrot your own thoughts back to you.

Francisco Morales going down on you two nights ago is the first thing you’ve ever had to confess to her. It’s the first thing she never saw coming.

“Shut up,” you breathe, eventually thawing and sweeping over to your chair. The table sticks to your arms when you sit back down.

“There’s a lot to unpack there, alright? A lot of tension. I mean, you gotta fuckin’ feel it. You two hate each other’s guts! And you’re both single, and you’re only here for two weeks. And – he’s Santi’s best friend. It’s just…it’s the perfect storm.”

Another exasperated sigh passes your lips. You settle back, eyes closed, and lift your palm. “Enough. I’ve heard enough.”

“You wouldn’t’ve told me if you didn’t wanna talk about it. Was he good?”

“Mal.”

“Was he?”

“I was drunk. I don’t remember.”

“Bullshit.” Her face screws up; the gold hoops wobble from her ears. “Like hell you don’t remember. Tell me.”

Your eyes slip from her over to Ange. The old pup pushes herself to her feet with a huff, her joints stiff and bones frail. She moseys over to your side. You scratch the back of the dog’s neck, shrugging to Mal.

“Maybe if you hadn’t cheated your way to a free round of drinks, I’d remember enough to share.”

“Fuck you,” she snorts, voice rounded by her wine glass. “Maybe that just means you gotta do it again – sober.”

You scoff.

Angie looks up at you – watery eyes blinking, tail slowly fanning.

Mal’s already recounting the time Frankie snitched on the two of you for raiding your mom’s makeup bag. She waves her hands in the air, eyes bulging.

Do it again. The thought actually makes you want to laugh.

You and Frankie – you and Catfish, hooking up again. As if the first time wasn’t a total mishap, the biggest mistake in judgement you think you’ve ever made.

He drove you home, he made you come, he left.

One nil, right? You have one up on him. You got yours, and he probably went home and jerked off to the thought of it. Alone in his room, tongue licking at the corners of his mouth where he could still taste your release.

You won.

You won, against Frankie Morales.

“…and then fuckin’ – Pope tried to help us tidy it up, remember? He was scrubbing the hell outta the lipstick on the mirror. But that asshole – Frankie,” she seethes, “he went downstairs as soon as your mom came home. As soon as she…And he fucking ratted!”

She growls, balls her fists. Screws her eyes tight shut like the enraged eight-year-old she was back then. She still has the same little crease between her brows. “What the hell got into you that night? We hate him, junior!”

Ange slumps to the floor with a sigh.

“Me too, girl,” you mutter to her, twirling the base of your glass. You look back up at the crazed woman opposite. “I don’t know,” you insist. “I was drunk, we were on our own…It just happened, alright?”

Her shoulders roll in a shrug. She lifts her glass to clink the neck of the bottle against the rim, purple wine spilling in a swirl. “Maybe it’s the start of something.”

You scoff. “Mal. Come on.”

“I’m serious. Perfect storm.”

“Nope. No storm. Stop that.”

She jabs a tipsy finger in your direction. “Let me get this straight. You’re telling me that you messed around with your arch fucking menesis– arch fucking…with – with Frankie, and you just – still feel nothing for him?”

“No,” you admit, “I feel plenty for him. I hate his fucking guts. I used to wish every birthday that he’d disappear. One time in church, when Father Joseph told everybody to bow their heads ‘n pray, I actually asked God to kill him for me.”

“Not Father Joseph!” Mal shrieks, grinning. “He was so fucking hot, by the way, for a dude with no hair. When the sunlight caught that cueball just right…that was a real fucking miracle. Goddamn.”

You bat her snicker away. “Me and Frankie used to brawl so bad that our moms had to separate us,” you continue. “I had to sit in the front seat if we drove anywhere – and that still didn’t stop him! He’d reach around the headrest and flick my fucking ear.”

“You gave as good as you got, though. I’m surprised he can even still get hard, the number of times your foot…” She swings her leg and kicks your thigh softly. “He was an ass, I know.”

“He was an ass then, he’s still an ass now. That’s all there is to it.”

“Okay,” Mal concedes. Her dark, glossy hair surfs around the lip of her wine glass when she leans in. “But you wouldn’t’ve told me unless it was still on your mind. ‘s all I’m saying.”

You throw yourself back with a quick, angry shake of your head. Your tongue flicks over your top lip.

“All I’m saying,” she repeats, holding her hands up.

But I won, you think – in a petulant little whine. Like you could shake your fists and stamp your feet at the same time. You got one up on him. He – he made you…

He made you come. He saw you. Felt you. Tasted you.

He knows what you sound like, whimpering his fucking name. Drunk on him, begging him not to stop. And now, the image of him fisting his cock over the memory of it feels less like a victory, and more like –

Another fucking loss.

You have no idea what he looks like, coming undone. No clue what his fragmented moans sound like as they tear from the bottom of his throat and rain down over you. You don’t know the weight of him in your hands, the wet slip of his tip as he leaks over your tongue.

Mal’s onto something new. Taken by a Facebook post from some girl you went to high school with. Biggest head I ever saw on a fucking baby, she mutters, wincing and then sprinkling a handful of salted peanuts on her tongue.

Frankie’s cocky smirk clouds over the sight of her at the opposite end of your kitchen table.

Francisco fucking Morales. The asshole wins again.

All at once, you hear his rotten little jeers in your ear – curbed painfully by his middle finger searing across your lobe. You feel his heavy palm on your skull, fingers scrunching roughly into your scalp.

A temper boils between your ears, heavy over your head. It feels juvenile, as if it’s armed with a Barbie in one fist and a juice box in the other. Sunken and wallowing in shame and rage, red-hot waves which wash over you as Mal cackles at some video on her phone.

You feel Frankie’s hands around your legs; the flicks of his hair tickling the inside of your thighs. The swarm of butterflies deep in your belly as you watched his figure swagger back across the street to his truck.

Loss after loss after loss. Each one wearing a satisfied smirk and a Standard Oil baseball cap.

Each one staining deeper than red wine in varnished oak.

You grit your teeth.

Frankie –

fucking –

Morales.

Santi floats the idea of a barbecue. Because of course he fucking does.

He says his place is too small, too many neighbors in earshot – and as long as Ms. Teller takes both hearing aids out, she won’t even know it’s happening.

“Just the guys ‘n us,” he chirps. “You, me, Will, Benny…Fran-kie…?”

You gag down the line. Body instinct whenever his name is mentioned, worsened by the latest developments in your relations. Ange glances up from her spot beneath the oak tree – her milky fur stark against the velvet green grass.

Santi chokes on a laugh. “Mal, too, if that helps with the Catfish thing.”

You lean the phone on your collarbone, sitting forward to apply a second coat of polish to your toes. The red gloss shines in the early morning light. “He is not welcome in my house.”

“First off: not your house. Second –”

“My house for the next eleven days.”

He says your name flatly. It sounds like a door being slammed. It shuts you up as though you’re nine again. “…Second: he won’t be in the house. He’ll be in the backyard.”

“You owe me,” you protest. “For ditching me the other night. I’m cashing in, Santiago. You want a cookout? No Frankie.”

Your brother sighs. “And how am I supposed to explain that to him, hermana?”

“Don’t,” you tell him. “What he doesn’t know can’t hurt him.”

Santi mutters something incoherent, though you know from the razor-sharp tone of voice that it’s no compliment. Still – he’s a man of his word.

Eventually he agrees: no Frankie at the barbecue.

The store is chilly, plucking goosebumps along your arms.

You round the aisles, scanning your list. You’ve been battling with a janky front wheel which has squealed and veered off-course at every fucking turn. It almost mowed over an elderly woman in the meat aisle.

You’ve cleared most of what Santi told you to get. Drinks, ice, buns, meat, corn on the cob. He wanted to use Mom’s dinner plates – but that, you countered, runs the risk of them being scraped, chipped, or worst of all, smashed.

That’s not a risk you’re willing to take. So you’ve piled in some paper plates and plastic cutlery, too – just to be on the safe side.

The cashier cuts a familiar figure at the checkout: her navy apron and full-cheek grin. She’s a staple sight from your childhood – a pair of dimples and sweet giggle trailing after you as you’d follow your mom’s skirt back out to the parking lot.

Her eyes widen and she clasps her hands when she notices you approaching. “Well, would you look who it is?” she sings.

“Hey, Pol,” you say, fanning yourself with your scrawled shopping list. “How you doing?”

The belt jolts your supplies closer to her bejeweled fingers.

“Same as always, honey. Rockin’ and rollin’. What brings you back to town?”

“Housesitting, dog-sitting…Santi-sitting. Mom and Dad are on a cruise.”

“Oh, that’s right,” she says, nodding. “She told me last week. Caribbean, right?”

You nod, sucking a deep, unenthused breath in.

Pol hums, smiling to herself as she clicks the barcode for your hotdogs into her computer. She begins telling you what her granddaughter thinks of second grade – her two times table and the tadpoles they’re keeping in class.

Your eyes sweep around the store as she chats. Everything looks the way it always did, a time capsule from the nineties. Speckled floor and fluorescent lights; placards hanging overhead which sway each time the great glass doors pull open.

Baskets of fruit and veg lined alongside a lawn set on offer. Beside that, heaps of flowers and stacked planters. Beside those, a discarded shopping cart. And beside that –

Frankie fucking Morales.

Well – the silhouette of him. It’s pretty bright outside. But you’d recognize the outline of that dumb baseball cap anywhere. He’s talking to one of the assistants.

You hand Pol the cash Santiago gave you, and she trades it for a receipt. Dumping your bags back into your cart, you nod to her in thanks and stalk off towards the sliding doors.

Frankie tosses and twirls a pack of cigarettes in his hand. The assistant is telling him about some big college football game.

Your grip tightens on the janky-wheeled cart. You feel your skin begin to heat; prickling all over your arms, flushing down between your shoulder blades. Gathering somewhere south of there.

But you walk by him with purpose, choosing to ignore that warm feeling. Choosing to ignore…him.

He doesn’t turn. Thankfully.

The doors grant you exit and you give your cart one good shove across the threshold, back out into blinding daylight and sticky heat.

“Alright, man,” Frankie’s voice calls from behind. “Good talkin’ to ya.”

You nail your eye on the car. It’s, like, fifteen paces. You can make it fifteen steps without having to deal with him, right? If you take longer strides, it’s probably more like ten.

Ten steps, and then you’re in the sanctuary of your car. You don’t have to see, speak to, or deal with him.

So why are you slowing down?

You’re slowing down. You are. You’re borderline fucking loitering. Quietly hoping he’ll notice, catch up, maybe talk to –

You click the unlock button. The car beeps in response.

Five steps out. The front wheel is rattling. You’re doing your best to ignore it.

Four.

Three.

The wheel spins, flitting like a confused compass needle, and stops dead in the opposite direction. The cart hurtles out of your grip for less than a second before you recover it and haul it close to your car, cursing under your breath.

But a force – stronger, steadier – reaches around your body and takes hold of the thing. It guides it back to course. A force which, when it speaks, sounds a shit ton like –

“Woah, lil Santi,” Frankie mutters, and your chest leaps.

You freeze in your tracks. His weight is still around your back. He’s right fucking there, when you turn to look.

The brim of his cap bumps against your head. He steps back with a smirk on his face. He’s so fucking smug, you could slap him. “You tryna cause a goddamn accident with that thing?”

You pull a disingenuous smile. “Hey, Fish. Ever tried minding your own business?”

He feigns a wounded sound and clutches his chest. “Ouch. I’m just looking out for ya.”

“Feels more like you’re pestering me.” You pull on the door handle and slot the first bag along the backseat.

Frankie lifts his chin, peering in at the contents. The star-spangled plated, the dripping bags of ice. “Having a party?” he asks, one eyebrow cocked.

You yank the bag from his sight, spinning to push it alongside the others. “Nope.”

He crosses his arms. “Sure looks like you’re having one.”

“Well, I’m not.” You slam the door and turn back to him, staring blankly.

“Forgot,” he sniffs, “you need friends to have a party.”

“Hilarious. Those shit jokes how you make all your friends?”

He nods, impressed. Pouts his lips like an annoying little fish. Suits his stupid fucking nickname. “Then why’d Benny call ‘n ask if I’ll be at Pope’s parents’ tonight?”

Shit. Fucking – Benny.

You sigh, eyes rolling closed. Your fingers massage your temples. “It’s not…it’s…”

“Cookout, right? Yeah. That stings, baby. No call, no text. You owe me, remember?”

“I owe you jack sh–”

“Two drinks,” Frankie clips, holding a finger up to shush you. “Three, if you count saving your car from one hell of a scratch.”

“Fuck off,” you breathe, and then give voice to, “It’s a small gathering of friends, and – now you, apparently.”

He sways forward, bumping the cart into your hip. “You need me to bring anything?”

You heave it straight back at him, hopefully hard enough to bruise. “Tranquilizer gun, if you’ve got one.”

“Can get something even stronger, if it’s a party you’re after.”

Your eyes thin. “Wouldn’t be my mom’s favorite for much longer if she found out you were doing coke in her backyard.”

Frankie smiles. That trademark Catfish grin. “I’ve done worse in her kitchen, baby.”

He’s so goddamn cocky. So full of it, it makes you want to scream. He studies you, eyes shadowed by his cap. His hair flicks out around his ears, dark curls doused in golden sunlight.

When your eyes trace the shape of his jaw, the wiry hair above his top lip – the faint flicker of a memory glows across your skin.

The weight of his hand on your stomach, pinning you to the bed. The bristling feeling ghosting the inside of your thighs. Your desperate wet, his tongue covering ground across your body like claiming territory.

Every shade of wrong. Ignoring every atom in your body – betraying every version of yourself for ten minutes of euphoria. He brought every numb nerve under your skin to attention, the second he knelt between your knees.

But he’s looking at you now, the same way he did the other night. It’s boyish and dangerous. A naked match just waiting to fall.

Maybe you’re waiting for an excuse to drop it.

Frankie gives his cap a quick tug, and makes off for his truck.

“See you at seven, Garcia.”

Daylight melts into dusk and with it, goes the sharp sting of summer. A pale blue rolls across the horizon, covering the yard in a hazy sort of chill. A relieving breeze, like satin over newly burned skin.

You’re still fucking sweating.

“Are you going to help me, or you just gonna lie there and text your girlfriend?” you call across the yard.

The dark figure spilling over the edge of the hammock grunts in response.

“Santi.”

Your brother groans, rolling free from the marigold fabric. He strides across the lawn, swinging an arm down to ruffle Ange’s ears. “Not a girlfriend,” he says, slipping his phone into his back pocket. “She’s…she’s more of a…”

You lift your hand. “Not something I need to know.”

He laughs and looks at the spread on the table. He lifts the corner of a tricolor napkin, straightens a plastic fork. The foil over the hamburger buns crinkles. “We did a good job. Looks great.”

“We?” You scoff, slapping his wrist away. “Yeah, me and the fucking dog, more like.”

“How much did it all come to? The food and shit?”

You shrug. “Like, forty dollars. I don’t know.”

“Gave you sixty. Where’s my change?”

You frown, hands on your hips. “If you don’t know how to budget properly, that’s not my problem.”

“And if you don’t know when to just lie and say you spent it all, that’s not mine. Twenty bucks, kid.” He holds his hand out, fingers beckoning.

The squeal of the gate interrupts, followed by a barrage of voices. Will and Benny and Mal and – as you lean back to watch them parade through the yard, you spot the figure of Frankie at their heels.

“Pope?” Will calls. “Pope, do me a favor. Remind me which one of us threw up at Busch Gardens that one time. Remember – right after we rode Gwazi?”

Santiago chuckles. “I remember Mallory wearing her raspberry slushie.”

Will guffaws in Mal’s face.

“I spit up!” she protests. “I spit up in a flowerbed. I was not wearing my slushie.”

“You were fluorescent pink the whole day,” Will says. He slings an arm around your shoulders. “You remember, lil Santi?”

You frown. Yeah, you fucking remember.

You remember being forced to sit between Frankie and Mal the entire way home. Santiago got dibs on the front seat by pretending he was carsick, and Mal had to sit by an open window so she didn’t stink your dad’s car out with all her raspberry-flavored puke.

You and Frankie bickered the whole journey. Both absolutely certain that the other was leaning too far over your seats. Your dad vowed he’d never let you both in his car at the same time, ever again.

“Mhm,” you grit, shooting daggers at your best friend.

She mouths a Sorry, and then places her salad bowl in the middle of the table. “Enough about throwing up. I’m starving. Let’s eat.”

The boys spend twenty minutes arguing over how the barbecue works, before a single bit of food is cooked. You and Mal watch from the table, sneaking Ange slices of cheese and giggling when Will and Benny break into their fifth argument of the night.

Santi and Frankie take charge, shoving the brothers out of the way.

Pope passes over the meat, while Frankie mans the grill. He lifts his cap and wipes his brow with his bicep, giving his head a shake as he flips burgers and turns sausages.

And no, you’re not watching him. You’re focused on Mal and her story about some guy from work. Or – it might be a guy from her yoga class. The instructor, maybe? You’re not sure. Frankie just flapped the collar of his shirt and the hem lifted, exposing a sliver of his tummy.

You’re not watching him, though.

He runs his tongue along his top lip, focusing on the sizzle and spatter of the grill. His arm tenses, turning the tongs over and over. Wide shoulders stretch when he reaches for a plate.

He’s laughing quietly at whatever Santi’s babbling about at his side. His eyes are stuck on the barbecue in front of him. His fingers twirl around the tongs again. He never looked so lean and so broad and so fucking different, all at once.

Weird different. Good different?

You feel your cheeks flush with heat. This time, it’s not so much anger, as it is –

Oh, shit.

Mal gets up for a refill at the same time Santiago jogs inside to grab more meat. You and Frankie are alone on the patio – Will and Benny are kicking a ball for Ange to chase on the grass.

Morales turns, and you instantly stare down at your beer. You take a forceful swig as he approaches.

“Hotdog?” he asks, holding a plate down to you.

“Huh?”

He glares at you and scoffs. “Are you dumb? Hotdog.” He slips it onto the table in front of you.

You squint at the grill marks, and then squint up at Frankie. Puzzled and…offended, at the same time. You come back to your body with a jolt. “Why the hell are you–? Have you laced it with something?”

He shoots a glance over his shoulder, tongue between his teeth. “No, I haven’t fucking laced it with anything. I just figured you should have the first one, since you put all this on for us. But – Jesus, give me it.”

Your fingers lock around the paper plate when he tries to steal it back. For all that he’s a dick and might actually try to poison you – you’re fucking starving.

You figure you can stomach the poison.

Frankie sighs. He lets go. “I’m tryna be nice, alright? You know nice?”

“I know nice. You’re not it.”

“Shut up and eat your hotdog, lil Santi.”

You mimic him in a squeak as he strolls off, shaking his head. Still, the second he’s back at the grill, you rip into the hotdog.

Frankie stays at the opposite end of the table for the entire meal – closest seat to the barbecue, and furthest seat from you. There’s too much chatter, too much hilarity being thrown back and forth between you for either of you to kick up a row.

Probably better for the guys’ sakes, but – you want to fucking row.

It’s like a hit, now. A rush of electricity, any time Frankie looks at you for longer than it takes his face to twist into a grimace. You’re hunting for ways to ignite something – anything. Looking for an excuse to drop that naked match and set the whole thing alight.

Because it’s fun, when you’re in the heat of it. Feeling his eyes on you, as hot and angry as flames. Being suffocated by the smoke of it all; breathing in less and less air and more…him.

And, anyway – who knows you better than the one person who pisses you off the most?

As the sun is snuffed by the heavy hand of dusk, you disappear to a quieter corner of the yard. Tucked between two thick beech trees, you throw yourself into the hammock – one leg draped over the side, swinging idly through the night air.

A beer bottle balanced on your tummy, the round base seeping a chilled ring into your shirt. The swish of leaves overhead and the annoying midges at your ears for company.

That is – until the sound of footsteps over crisp grass, and the creak of an old, splintered garden chair disturb your peace.

Frankie adjusts his cap, flatting his fringe beneath it, and sits back. “You never change, do you, Garcia? Still the same little longer you always were.”

You hold your hands out, gulping back beer – and glee. “Can I fucking help you? I’m minding my own business.”

“Thought you might want some company.”

“Not yours, dickhead. You think I’m way the hell over here ‘cause I wanted you to come annoy me?”

He hums, picking at a flake of paint on the armrest. “Sure wanted me to annoy you the other night.”

“Alright,” you clip. “Cheap shot. You been practicing that one all afternoon?”

“Since I saw you at the store.”

You roll your eyes.

Frankie slips a cigarette from its pack and lights it, tipping his chin to blow a white cloud to the sky. “You’re too much fun,” he tells the stars.

You squint through the dark, staring at the glowing cherry. “What?”

“You. You get so pissed, so easily. Always have.”

“Well, you antagonize me. Always have.”

His cheeks lift. It’s something softer than a smirk, still laced with too much attitude to be a smile. “That’s ‘cause you were always around. Everywhere Santi went, there you were. Closer than his shadow.”

“Well,” you glower, “’s what happens when you have a big brother. You’re void of love; I wouldn’t expect you to understand.”

“No, I get it,” he says. “It just got fun to mess with you, after a while.”

“Uhuh,” you take another swig, “so is that what you’re doing? Messing with me?”

Frankie’s shoulders jump. “You tell me. There were two of us in your room that night.”

You swing your legs down to the grass. It’s brittle under your socks when you stand, still focusing on the end of his cigarette. “Damn, you really can’t shut up about it, can you? How many times have you tugged one to the thought of it?”

“Tugged one,” he snickers, but he seems nervous – watching as you approach. “What age are you?”

You push his knees wider, slotting between his thighs. “Which part does it for you? What sends you over the edge?”

“Come on, lil Santi,” Frankie says, averting his eye. “You’re embarrassing yourself now.”

One knee up, resting on the crease of his jeans. You lean forward and nudge his hip, lay your hands gently on his shoulders. “I bet you still hear me in your dreams.”

He scans up and down your body, lingering on your bare thigh. “Not – not gonna work, kid,” he promises, shaking his head. “You still annoy the fuck outta me.”

“Right, right.” You pinch the pale stick from between his teeth. “’cause nothing’s changed, yeah?”

His head sways in agreement. He’s distracted, watching as you lift your hand to your mouth.

You smile down at him. “’cept you know how I taste now, so.”

You slot the damp end of the cigarette between your lips and suck. Sharp, acrid heat sails over your tongue and down your throat, filling your chest in one inhale. You cough a little, batting the smoke as you blow it out.

“Tastes fucking disgusting,” you croak. “How can you smoke these?”

Frankie’s eyes never leave your lips. “You get used to it.”

You take another draw, letting the smoke soar through the space between you. “Gross,” you say, and prop the cig back between his lips. “Just like you!”

“Sh…shut up,” he groans, adjusting in his seat.

“Make me.”

But he doesn’t bite. Doesn’t flinch. He just stares back, rolling the smoldering stick between his thumb and finger. Running his tongue along his teeth.

You spill the last of your beer onto your tongue, cocking an eyebrow at him, and push from his lap.

You make it no more than five steps, before that same weight from the parking lot is around your shoulders.

He pings the cigarette somewhere in the grass, and grabs onto your elbow.

“Fran– Jesus – Where are we–?”

He drags you through the dull dusk to the other side of the lawn, ignoring the click of the motion sensor. You’re thrown through a wooden door onto cold concrete before the yard light floods over you.

It takes a second for your eyes to adjust. Weak slivers of moonlight illuminate each tool hanging from the wall. The fairy lights outside lose their battle against the darkness the second they creep through the window.

Before you can sling something mocking at him, Frankie has you pinned against the wall.

“You want me to make you shut up?” he growls, teeth grazing your neck. His fingers slip behind the waist of your shorts, plucking at the button. “I’ll make you shut up. Make you shut up all goddamn night.”

“Frankie,” you gasp, grabbing hold of his shirt. You push on his chest, walking him backwards over to the workbench.

The thing shudders when he rocks against it.

“The fuck are you doing?” he murmurs, watching as you kneel before him.

“Getting used to it,” you reply.

You pull his belt apart, loosen the fly on his pants, and pull until they’re low on his hips.

Frankie holds onto the bench with a white-knuckle grip. He lays his hand over the crown of your head, rubbing small circles. A laugh slips across his tongue. “This what you’ve been thinkin’ about?”

You ignore him, instead focusing on the solid shape in his underwear.

His hips flinch when you drag your palm along it. He’s hard already. He hisses at your cold fingers on his stomach, tensing as your knuckles skim below the elastic.

And then…he’s in your palm. All of him. Frankie fucking Morales.

You’re trying not to think too deep about it.

Your fingers wrap around him, barely meeting around his width, and you slip him from his boxers.

His cock springs free, swaying once, twice – then settling to the right.

Your mouth fills with saliva. Suddenly – there’s no way not to think too deep about it.

He’s…he’s big. He’s thick; smooth and sculpted, veins trailing around his shaft. It’s not like you ever considered what he’s walking around with before, but looking at it now – you can’t believe it’s him.

Without thinking, you lean in and kiss him all the way down to the hair at his base. A wet trail, lips curving around the size of him. You run your tongue up and down, circling the tip and toying with it.

Frankie cups your cheek. “Pretty little mouth,” he utters. “Put it to good use, huh?”

You don’t need him to ask twice.

You sink down on him. Every inch of him – every aching, choking inch. Your jaw slackens to take him; nails digging into his thighs when he bumps the back of your throat.

“Oh, shit, baby,” he hisses. His hand comes down on your head a little too heavily.

You yelp and pull back, gasping when he slips out. “Prick,” you breathe, closing your lips around his tip again.

“Just too sweet with it,” he murmurs, guiding himself back across your tongue.

You suckle on him, using your hands to pump the inches your mouth can’t take.

Frankie’s head tips back, panting at the roof. His hips thrust to meet your movements. “Feels so – goddamn – good,” he moans, and you hum with glee.

You take his balls in your hands, kneading them as you work your way lower. He’s so deep in your mouth that it makes your eyes water. Each slip of his tip against the back of your throat makes you gag, pulls a lewd, muffled sound from your chest.

It shouldn’t feel like this. You shouldn’t be enjoying it this much. But he’s falling apart under your fingertips, he’s unwinding right before you. He’s whispering your name, begging you not to stop. Just like that, just like that, just like that. Oh, fuck, just like that.

It’s addictive. Now that you know how he looks, how he feels, you’ll never go back to before. When the most thrill he gave you was a burning temper; feeling your pulse jump in your throat with rage.

This – whatever the fuck this is – is all you know, now. Pulling threads from one another, watching the way they unravel. Watching each other unravel. Flashes of eye contact, salt and slick and sex dripping from every secret word.

Frankie’s hips jerk. His cock spasms.

You don’t want him to come down your throat. You don’t want him to climax when he’s too deep for you to taste it.

You want him all over – your lips, your tongue, dribbling down your chin. You want to mix him with your saliva and swallow; warm, salty, Frankie.

He got his taste. Now you want yours.

You bring your hands up to his thighs, purposefully pushing back off him.

His grip loosens, and he looks down. Brows low and close, eyes blown wide like he’s higher than any drug could take him.

He’s as addicted as you are.

“My mouth,” you mumble, head of his cock circling your glistening lips. “In my mouth.”

“Yeah?” he says, and the weight of his cock slaps on your bottom lip. “That where you want it, baby?”

“Mhm.” You wrap your lips back around him.

“Fuckin’ filthy,” Frankie spits, laughing. “Shit – just like that. Yeah, that’s it.”

Three, four more soaking strokes of your tongue and he’s twitching again.

You pull back only enough to rest his tip on your tongue, feeling the pulsing heat as he comes. Watching the way his face tightens, the pull of his brows as it overcomes him.

His eyes stay locked on you. Your fluttering lashes, your puffy, glossy lips. He fills your mouth and then some – semen spilling from the corners and dribbling down your jaw. And the sound he makes – this broken, scattered moan, bordering on a fucking whimper – is fucking perfect.

Frankie’s hand locks at the base of your skull, holding you steady until he’s done. His cock slips from your bottom lip. He gives one last satisfied sigh, petting your head as you stroke him slowly, tenderly – swiping kitten licks at the dripping mess of him.

“Fuck,” he moans, letting his eyes close over. His weight slumps against the workbench. “The fuck do you spend so much time yapping for when you’re that good with your mouth?”

You hum in amusement, tongue dragging along the underside of his cock. He’s softening, but still a decent size. Still a weight to it that makes your cunt clench around nothing.

One last little kiss, and you tuck him back into his boxers. You drag the back of your hand across your chin.

Frankie holds his hands out, and you pull yourself up. He fixes himself into his jeans, turning away to do up his belt. He had his cock in your throat two minutes ago, and here he is pretending to be shy.

He turns back around, half disappeared to the dark shed. “I, uh…I don’t want you to think that I came here just to…just for that.”

Your tongue dabs at the inside of your cheek, all salty. “Then this is awkward, ‘cause that’s the only reason I hadn’t kicked you out yet.”

He laughs, dropping your gaze. “You…” he shakes his head, “…are such a little shit, you know that?”

It’s nicer than he would’ve worded it half an hour ago. But still – having an exchange with Frankie that doesn’t involve spitting insults or jagged glares, warms your blood in a way that’s new and…unsettling.

“We should probably…” You toss a thumb over your shoulder, eyes flitting to the string bulbs outside. “We don’t want them wondering what’s…you know.”

He nods and strides over to the door. The wood squeals against concrete as he pulls it open.

The summer swirls around you again, sweetening the stuffy heat of the shed. Mal’s voice surfs through the breeze – she’s still arguing over the Busch Gardens story.

You make to step out, and Frankie’s arm halts you.

He opens his palm. “Even,” he tells you. “We’re even.”

He seems sure of himself. Sure of you. He looks you in the eye and doesn’t blink.

You smirk. Your hand slips into his, letting him shake your fist once. You stare straight back at him.

“We’re just getting fucking started, Francisco.”

#frankie morales #frankie morales fic #frankie morales smut #bbf!frankie #pedro pascal #triple frontier #triple frontier fic

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ev3rgreenxtrees · 3 days

Text

First Choice

-M.S {pt 1}

Synopsis: Your best friends with Nicolas Sturniolo. He’s been your best friend since the third grade— you’re now in your senior year. What happens when the brother you don’t get along with all of the sudden needs you to fake date him?

Pairing: good girl!fem!reader (she/her) X bad boy!Matt Sturniolo

Warnings: Cussing, arguments (not angst. yet.), slightly suggestive, cigarettes, mentions of alcohol and drugs, use of Y/N.

<*•*>

“Please, Y/N..” Matt begged, his eyes pleading— unlike how you’ve ever seen him. He’s always been such an asshole to you. Since you’ve been friends with his brother, Nick. On the other hand, Chris was sweet. You never understood why Matt couldn’t be like Chris.

But here you are. Matt was now begging you to be his fake girlfriend. You weren’t sure why he wanted you to, or why he needed anyone to, in that matter.

“Why, Matt? What am I getting out of it?” You scowl, annoyed at the boy, who refused to let you leave the now empty classroom. All of your other classmates were already at lunch, but matt stopped you to ask this ridiculous question.

“Well- I..” Matt sighed, embarrassed in himself. Matt was a very good looking guy, and had his fair share of hookups and girlfriends, but never once did you think he’d be begging you to fake date him. Ever.

“Don’t you dare fucking tell me it’s to get back at your girlfriend.” You state annoyed, just wanting to head to lunch.

“Well, not really..” Matt mumbled. “Okay. Listen to me.” The boy states, as if he hadn’t already had your full attention. “Me and Lacey broke up— obviously, and everyone was teasing me for it, saying I fumbled and shit. Like, Nate, Jordan, Kyle, and even fuckin’ Chris wouldn’t keep his mouth shut, so.. I may have accidentally told them I already have a new girlfriend..” Matt mumbles shyly, and you couldn’t help but snicker.

“No fucking way.” You squeak, trying to hold back your laughter. “You fumbled bad, and your friends are fuckin’ with you for it, so you want me to help you? When have you ever gave a fuck about helping me? All those times I needed a ride or something from the store when you were already out?” You scoffed.

“Y/N, please..” He whines. “c’mon, I’m beggin’ ya..” He pleads. “Fuck, I’ll even get on my knees if ya want me to,”

“Matt, get the fuck up.” You demand, feeling awkward about him kneeling down in front of you. Part of you, however, thought it was cute. The way his hands were intertwined tightly, his hair covering his eyes slightly, but from what you could see of them, he was looking up at you longingly. “Matt. Up.” You demanded more stern this time.

He obliges, quickly standing up in front of you, a glint of hope in his eyes.

“Why me..? Why am I your first choice?” You question. It wasn’t a random question. If you were to agree, this would be something you feel is need-to-know.

“You’re the most believable. Not because your looks or anything like that, but because I’ve known you longest.” He tells you, but the way he speaks makes you think he’s not telling you the complete truth.. but close enough- right?

“Okay— But first, we have to lay ground rules. No kissing me, at all. Second, not too much PDA. I hate PDA in general; and it doesn’t help that we’re not actually dating. Third, pet names and stuff are fine, but never get cocky with me. Okay?” I ask, keeping my voice clear. Being truthful, I wasn’t so sure why I agreed to help him. But I did.

“Really? Thank you!” The boy squeals happily, pulling you into a hug. You tense at his touch, something you haven’t felt before. It wasn’t bad— but it was definitely new. He continues to mumble small ‘thank you’s, before letting you go. “Can you sit by me at lunch? It’ll make it more believable.” He asks.

You reluctantly agree, not quite sure how he was so open to asking you things like this. Asking someone to ‘fake date’ you is something you’d have to work up years of courage to ask someone to do. He immediately slips your hand in his, pulling you out of the empty classroom— the same one he had pulled you into randomly moments before.

You look down at his hand in yours as he wandered down the halls, pulling you behind him. He looked so happy. When you both arrived into the packed commons, he pulled you to the table he usually sat at, your friends giving you an odd look as you strolled right past them, hand-in-hand with your sworn enemy.

The table Matt sat at consisted of his closest friends, Nate, Jordan, Kyle, Luke, Nicky, and his brothers, Nick and Chris. You weren’t familiar with Kyle, Jordan, or Luke, but Nate and Nicky sometimes came over to the triplets house when you were hanging out with Nick.

“Y/n..!” Nick yells, but his voice quickly trailing off. “Matt..?” He says in an unsure tone, his head tilting. “Why are you here?” He questions.

“Guys,” Matt speaks up, grabbing everyones’ attention. “This is the girlfriend I was telling you about.” He states proudly, but almost seemingly unsure of himself. Girlfriend. It sounds different hearing it from him.

“No fucking way.” Nick gapes, his jaw slack.

“Yes fucking way.” Matt teases, before taking his usual seat. “Hold on. You can sit here, sweetheart. I’ll go grab myself a different chair.” He hums, standing back up from his seat after he realizes there was no open seats.

You were taken slightly aback. Obviously Matt would have to act like this, since you were ‘dating’, but it was something you definitely weren’t used to.

“Y/N! You’re insane!” Nick says, holding back a laugh. Your leg bounced slightly as you realized everyone at the table was staring at you.

“Hm? How so?” You asked confused. Was Matt not a good person to date? Obviously he wasn’t nice to you, but thats because you hate each other. He always seemed so sweet and gentle around his ex.

“Matt..?” Nick furrowed his eyebrows judgmentally. “You guys.. hate eachother..?” He questions.

“No, we obviously don’t, Nick.” You correct sweetly, as Matt pulls over a chair to sit next to you. Matt almost immediately noticed that your leg was bouncing, so he gently rested one of his hands on your knees reassuringly.

Even though you told him not to touch you, you do find his touch quite soothing. You glance over at him, and he offers you a slight nod, before his attention goes back to the table full of his friends. Maybe— Just maybe— this whole ‘fake dating’ with Matt wasn’t such a horrible decision after all.

『 ↳✧･ﾟ Finn yaps❕ ;

sorry this chapter is kinda short, i just wanted to make the first chapter shorter and show how the fake dating came to be <3

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱ I do NOT give permission for my work to be published on any other site, nor to be claimed as your own . However , reblogs , likes , and comments are much appreciated ! 🤍

ੈ✩‧₊˚ @bernardenjoyer @lovely-calypso @slut4mattsturn @imwetforyourmom @tillies33ssss @junnniiieee07 @75sturn @thenickgirl

divider creds to @v6que 🤍

#sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #fanfic #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #fluff #angst #matt sturniolo fanfic #matt x y/n #matt x reader #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo smut

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sapphicnae · 2 days

Text

Love, Hate and Everything in Between

Summary: Regina hated you and you hated Regina. Each of you so obsessed with taking down the other. But was this obsession pure hatred or something more?

Character Pairings: Regina x fem!reader, Regina x Cady (if you squint)

Warnings: Slurs, Bullying, Toxic Behaviour, Internalised Homophobia

Words: 2.6k

A/N: This is my first fic / one-shot on here so I hope you guys enjoy. I’ve been reading some fics on here and decided we don’t have enough Regina fics going round, so I thought, what better than a classic enemies to lovers (?). Apologies for any mistakes I did write half of this at 4am. If you do enjoy, please let me know because I wouldn’t mind turning this into a full blown fic, I have plenty more ideas for it. Also, I’m very open to requests!

You and Regina. Two of the most popular girls in school.

Regina hated you, and you hated Regina.

It had been this way since you had joined North Shore a year ago and gained popularity, despite Regina’s attempts to take you down at every turn. But one thing you and your best friend, Janis Imi’ike couldn’t figure out was why Regina was so obsessed with you. To the point you would catch her staring at you from across the cafeteria almost daily, albeit with an icy glare plastered on her face. You had both had your fair share of run-ins with each other, after all, Regina couldn’t stand to see the new girl rise to popularity as fast as you had in your year of being at this school. But the difference between you and Regina was that you actually treated people with respect... and you just happened look pretty while doing it.

Jealousy. That’s all you had chalked her behaviour down to, until recently.

Regina had consistently made it clear that she was in fact, not gay. From her messy relationship with Aaron Samuels to openly flirting with Shane Oman in the halls, she had made it very clear she only had eyes for men. Her performative gestures with Shane in the hallways also coupled with the spreading of rumours about certain people being a lesbian. From the way Regina had spoken this word, it had made it seem as if this was the worst possible thing to be known as at North Shore. No one in school had ever had the guts to stand up to Regina for her problematic behaviour, especially since she ruled the halls with fear. Yet her reign seemed to be interrupted the moment you transferred to North Shore. You were the only person who wasn’t afraid to defend yourself, or others for that matter.

Naturally, Regina could not stand this. Which lead to you having a constant target on your back for rumours and blatant lies in order for you to lose your popularity as well as your dignity. You thought it was incredibly excessive of her to make out that being a lesbian was a bad thing. Partly because your best friend and partner-in-crime, Janis was a lesbian and partly because deep down, you knew you had an attraction to girls too. Yet the only people who knew this was Janis and Damien, of course, your two closest friends.

You had not yet been in a relationship since joining North Shore that year, not due to avoidance, but due to all your time being taken up by your rivalry with Regina. Which was totally normal… right?

The most recent rumour that was circling the halls, of course spread by Regina, was that at a party that you had both been to last Friday night, you had made a pass at Regina. Hearing this from Damien in English class that day was the last thing you had needed after enjoying a supposedly drama free day for once. Anyone who was at the party that night would’ve known that wasn’t true, yet Regina had a certain charm to the way she could make anything seem believable. You of course weren’t surprised at her attempts to drag your reputation down for the umpteenth time this year. She loved making out that you were the one who was obsessed with her and not the other way round. It irked you to think that she could get away with having the last laugh. You would have just let it slide, but your ego once again stood in the way of your ability to allow Regina to think she had won.

So that’s when lunch rolled around. You, Janis, and Damien were sitting at your usual table, with the plastics in view. Having to watch them gossiping with each other and occasionally glancing your way had left you with a deep-seated feeling of rage. You had never been one to often keep your emotions in check, this seemed to be your downfall in situations like these. Feeling anger like this was always the driver of your revenge. Coupled with the fact that thoughts of Regina didn’t often leave your mind. Which was obviously due to the fact that you resented her so much. You hated everything about her. Sure, she was gorgeous, with those stupid green eyes that always harboured some form of winged eyeliner, along with the rest of her makeup that accentuated her already flawless features. That stupid beautiful blonde hair that always seemed to sit in the perfect place, flowing down her back like she was some sort of supermodel. Those perfect lips tha-

“Dude, are you even listening to me right now?” Janis questioned, lightly punching your arm, ripping you away from your thoughts. A small blush crept up your neck, realising you had been so deep in thoughts about Regina that you had completely zoned out of the conversation you were supposed to be having.

You faltered for a moment before attempting to save yourself with a reply “Y-yeah of course. I was just-“

“Clearly planning her revenge against queen of the plastics, god Janis, keep up” Damien chimes in, attempting to save the day. Janis just rolls her eyes at both of you. She had been dealing with Regina and her posse for years, which meant she had more or less tuned their drama out in an attempt to stay sane at this school. With you however, it was a different story, Regina somehow always found the perfect way to rile you up.

“The day queen bitch of North Shore gives it a rest with these dumbass rumours, will be the day I know peace” Janis huffed, which made both you and Damien chuckle in response. “Especially with her obsession over who’s a lesbian and who’s not. If you ask me, she should just come out of the closet already.” She then nods to you “I mean, the closet might as well be glass with the way she stares you down at any given moment. Coming from a fellow girl kisser, she wants you baaad.” She laughed at her own words. Receiving an eye roll from you this time.

“That girl needs to be called out on her shit.” You glance over at Regina who is sporting a smug smile listening in to her friends gossiping. You couldn’t stand the fact that she had gotten under your skin once again. With the rumour fresh in your mind, you couldn’t help yourself from wanting to act. Deep down you loved the drama between the both of you, it gave you some sort of high, being able to pull Regina off her own narcissistic pedestal. It was like some sort of addiction; you couldn’t get enough of it “in fact… what better time than right now?” You uttered, as you shot up from your seat. Before either Janis or Damien could sway you out of it, you were already making your way over to the table across the cafeteria.

As you approached, you could see Regina’s eyes flicker towards you, a wry smirk growing on her face. On seeing Regina’s attention shift, the rest of the plastics turned to face your way, which didn’t deter you in the slightest. Having a rivalry with Regina for this long, you were used to all eyes being plastered on you while confronting her. Plus, nothing about Regina’s minions scared you. All they ever seemed to do was blindly follow her around like lost puppies. The only person who you had never understood as being part of the group was Cady Heron. You had sat with her in a couple of your classes, and with the way she spoke, it seemed she so desperately wanted to be her own person instead of being grouped in with the meanest girls in school. This lead to you gaining a small amount of respect for her. A few times you had considered asking her why she still sticks with Regina after seeing the way she treats her, but you knew that would be a whole other mess. Besides, there was a high chance that she’d go running straight to Regina about it. It seemed as though Cady was on the tightest leash out of anyone in the plastics… probably because Regina knew she could be pulled away from her with the right amount of convincing.

Right before you reached the table you noticed Regina stiffen her posture, followed by a groan, “here comes queen lesbo of North Shore”, which was followed by a few snickers from Gretchen and Karen. Funnily enough, Cady remained silent. “What’s up? Couldn’t get enough of me Friday ni-“

You interrupt her by slamming your hands on the table, which not only grabbed the attention of the plastics, but those who were on the surrounding tables too. You lock eyes with Regina as you spoke in a low tone, attempting to control your anger towards her.

“Real cute hearing that you’re telling people I came onto you, when anyone who was there knows we barely even made eye contact.” Regina raised an eyebrow at you, smirk still in place. She then spoke condescendingly, before you could continue.

“Oh honey, of course you don’t remember, you were sooo drunk and all over me, everyone saw it, right Gretch?” She then shot her a dangerous look to which Gretchen instantly nodded in response. This amused you slightly, knowing she was laying it on thick. She was trying so desperately hard with this angle that you decided to use her tactics against her for once. You let out a laugh of false amusement before continuing.

“Oh please Regina, you’re trying so hard to convince everyone it’s true, almost as if… you wish it was? I mean it wouldn’t be surprising. I’ve seen the way you stare at me in the hallways, you make it a bit obvious don’t you think?” By this point, the smile on Regina’s face had completely dropped, morphing into a poisonous glare. As she opened her mouth to cut you off, you kept speaking, raising your tone to catch the attention of others. “-so obvious in fact, that I don’t even need to say it out loud, people are whispering about it already. So next time you wanna spread rumours like that, try taking a look in the mirror first.” People around you gasp, hearing you speak to Regina in the same way she would leaves even the queen bee herself in slight shock before she manages to compose herself. You hadn’t even considered the weight of the words you had spoken until they had left your mouth. You had basically just accused her of having a huge crush on you and judging by the state it left her in, it didn’t seem like that was far from the truth.

“So, you are gay?” Karen pipes up first, mouth slightly agape as she speaks. Regina shoots a glare at her, making her immediately look in the opposite direction.

It was your turn to smirk seeing her cheeks turn scarlet as she gritted her teeth. She was clearly outraged, the look on her face said so. Yet, hidden behind her eyes, there seemed to be an ounce of shame present. Having a moment to study this look almost made you feel… regret? Though in the next beat, she rose up from where she was sitting and took a few steps towards where you’re stood, towering over you slightly. She had rarely ever made a move to get this close to you before, and standing where she is right now, you could practically smell her expensive perfume. You fought the urge to take a step back, as your breath hitched slightly. For a moment she hesitates, her eyes flicker to your lips for just a split second, but not fast enough that you don’t catch her doing it. If this wasn’t happening in front of the whole school crowd, you would be sure that she was about to lean in and kiss you. You felt yourself taking a heavy breath to steady yourself before she snaps at you.

“Listen, dyke. If you ever catch me staring at you it’s because I think you’re a freak. And if you think for one second, I would ever be into you, then you’re even more delusional than I thought. So why don’t you and the rest of your sad little band of freaks over there, go and-“

She is almost immediately cut off by a teacher who walks over to the group, clearly having been alerted of the altercation going off in the middle of the cafeteria. Regina immediately takes a step back from you and fixes her hair, attempting to seem as innocent as possible.

“Girls, what seems to be the problem?” Ms. Norbury questions, looking between the two of you. With the rest of the plastics keeping silent, it was up to one of you to speak up first. Regina then plasters a fake polite look on her face and turns to Ms. Norbury to speak. Right as you expected her to defame you all the way to your seat in detention, she instead gives a different response.

“There’s no problem, everything’s fine.” Regina smiles at her as you see the rest of her crew nodding behind her, which brings you to scoff at the sudden change up in her demeanour. Having dealt with Regina many times before, it was clear that Ms. Norbury saw right through this attempt to get her to leave you both to it. Which lead to what she had to say next.

“Look girls, I know the two of you have had issues in the past. But I won’t tolerate drama like this during school hours.” She then steps between the both of you. “Now separate this and I’ll see you in my office after school. Both of you.” She then turns on her heel and walks away.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” you huff out in disbelief. After this, you decide it’s best to walk away from Regina and return to your table before your day could get any worse. But not before she hastily grips your forearm and subtly whispers some hostile words close to your ear.

“We are so not done, freak” she then roughly drops your arm before coasting back to her seat. Though her threatening remark left you stunned for a moment, her closeness left you breathless for longer. As you made your way back to Janis and Damien, you couldn't get the thought of her out of your head. After all the tension and pent-up anger between you, you secretly hoped she might be right. Because as you stared at her from across the cafeteria, your heart thumped in your chest, not out of fear, but something else. You were definitely not done with each other. Not by a long shot.

#regina george #regina x reader #regina george x reader #mean girls 2024 #cady heron #janis imi'ike #mean girls #regina george x fem!reader #fanfic #mean girls musical #renee rapp #angst

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i2ycat · 2 days

Text

clingy

pairing bf!jungwon x fem!reader synopsis jungwon as your boyfriend who is overly clingy and just can’t ever get enough of you genre established relationship, tooth-rotting fluff warnings none main masterlist

reblogs and comments are very much appreciated!

clingy bf!jungwon is 100% the type to keep you in bed until you realise that you’re late for class or work, but even then, he’s sneaky enough to keep you staying put

“can you stay here forever?” he asks groggily, the morning evident in his voice as he snuggles into the crevice of your neck

the warmth he radiates in the dead of winter makes you want to not get out of bed at all, and especially not in the morning cold, so you mumble quietly, “just 10 minutes.”

and like that, 2 hours magically pass by…

even when you’re busy with class or work, best bet that jungwon is blowing up your phone about how he misses you or how badly he wants to be in your arms right now

before he dated you, he didn’t really like physical affection or even hugging for that matter, but after meeting you, you’ve got him hooked… you think you’re clingy? wait until you meet yang jungwon

you’ve pervaded every part of his life and thoughts that anything he sees, he immediately gets reminded of you… like he’s just so down bad for you

he follows you around the house or around the supermarket when you’re shopping for groceries like a lost puppy

when you’re apart for more than an hour or two, he starts getting extreme y/n withdrawal… like he PHYSICALLY cannot live without you by his side (someone pls put him in a rerun of ‘my strange addiction’)

more under cut !

he would always find his way into your arms no matter the place, the situation or the people around, my guy does not give a fuck!

by extension, jungwon gets jealous easily and is super possessive of you

he honestly amps the physical affection up in public just to show everyone that you’re his, and he’s yours…

when he does get jealous, he gets all pouty and furrows his brows, staring at you with that look in his eyes that make you melt away because he’s just so darn adorable

his jealousy is actually so endearing that you sometimes don’t give him the attention he wants just to rile him up and see him get all sulky for you

there would be one instance when you would be chatting with a junior about your courses, and in jungwon’s eyes, they would be standing way too close for his comfort, so he immediately stares the both of you down until you eventually notice a pair of killer eyes

you look at him amused and immediately excuse yourself from your junior, walking up to him with crossed arms

“what is it now?”

“he was standing way too close to you.”

“he’s just my junior, wonie.”

“still! what if he likes you?”

“then i would tell him that i’m already dating the best boyfriend ever, duh.” you say as you envelop him into a hug, kissing him in the cheeks in the process

jungwon just loves to be in your presence, nothing could ever even come close to you in any and every sense… to him, you guys are end game

when jungwon is going through a particularly hard time, his number one therapy would be you

he would show up at your dorm, head hung low and hair unusually tousled into a mess. over the years you’ve been together, you immediately knew the drill — bring him into your arms and stay like that for hours, maybe even play a studio ghibli film in the background as you eat ice cream in the comfort of your bed

no matter how much jungwon hugs you, he just can’t ever get enough of it. people always ask him if he gets sick of the physical touch, and he just replies simply with, “never.”

other than his very obvious love language, jungwon also likes to spoil you with gifts, especially oversized teddy bears, because to him, it can act as his replacement when he’s not there…

but before he even gifts it to you, he would snuggle with it for a week or two straight so that by the time you receive it, it’ll smell and feel like he’s actually there in your bed with you

he’s so used to hearing you calling him by your nickname for him, that when you use his real name, it literally breaks his heart

“jungwon, can you hand-“

“jungwon? who?”

“what do you mean ‘who’? that’s literally your name?” you look at him confused

“no i’m not jungwon, i’m your baby? get it right. and what happened to ‘won’ or ‘wonie’?”

“baby, can you pease hand me the remote?”

“that’s better.” he LITERALLY starts smiling like this ‘😊’ and presses a kiss on your forehead

he loves you so much and will do anything and everything to show you that he loves you and cares for you so much

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imaluckygirl · 1 day

Text

⭑ sharing is caring

( enha reaction ) - MAKNAE LINE

synopsis : where you prank your boyfriend by putting a bigger amount of food onto his plate and then show up with your plate half empty, saying: that’s all we had left.

HYUNG LINE VER.

❕ m𝐚𝐤n𝐚𝐞l𝐢n𝐞! x fe𝐦!r𝐞ad𝐞𝐫 ⋆ ge𝐧𝐫𝐞: fluff, i dont think you can consider angst but whatever ⋆ w𝐚𝐫n𝐢n𝐠𝐬 .ᐟ : mentions of food ( not specifying the food ), mentions of diet/not eating.

❔ 𝐧ot𝓮𝓼: since you guys liked sooo much the hyung line version, i wrote the maknae line version 🫶 @itjengirl there you go~~ 🙂‍↕️

english is not my first language, so it might contain a bunch of grammar errors.

taglists and requests are open .ᐟ

sunwoo would be smiling at you as always, thanking you in a cute way while you handed him his plate. “it looks delicious, jagi.” and he was just waiting for you to seat by his side on the table like an excited puppy. however, when you came back from the kitchen just to get your plate, he was kinda confused but was a little bit hesitant to ask you the reason why your plate had such a small amount of food, afraid that you would be triggered in some kind of way.

but before you could start eating, he asked: “why aren’t you eating more?” you looked at him with a innocent pout, shaking your head like you said ‘it’s nothing’. “aren’t you hungry?” sunwoo was pouting just much as you, worried about you. “does your stomach hurt or somethin-“ you interrupted him. “no, it’s just all we had.” “what?” he thought he misunderstood you. “that’s all we had left and,” you paused to take a sip of your water. “you work hard everyday, you deserve to eat more than i do.” you gently smiled, but his face dropped.

“don’t ever say that, thank you for worrying about me, but you deserve to eat too. here, i’ll share.” sunwoo gave you the biggest smile in the world, reassuring you that he was okay with sharing half of his plate with you. “sunwoo…” you cooed his name hesitantly. “mhm~?” your boyfriend glanced at you with a soft smile, kinda focused on his plate, but still hearing you. “i-i’m just playing with you, we have more food left; i’m sorry.” you pouted. “i feel so bad for doing this, you’re way too precious.” sunwoo felt like his heart was about to explode. “oh really?” he chuckled. “you really got me.” he shook his head defeated laughing. “don’t feel bad, jagi.” he said while looking at you. “just eat or else your food is gonna be cold.” he nodded his head at your plate smiling after placing a kiss on your cheek.

( i just love smiley sunwoo >ᴗ< )

“what are you making~?” jungwon walked into the kitchen while you were making his plate. “making our plates.” you smiled when he hugged you from behind. “mhm~” he placed a kiss on your shoulder and you tried to distract him from the pot that was full — but you were supposed to prank him. so with that, when you finished his plate you immediately closed the pot, handing him his plate while yours was sitting on the kitchen counter.

“there you go.” you gave him a soft smile and he thanked you with a small grin waiting for you to pick up your plate and walk with him to the dining table. however, the second his eyes laid on your plate you knew he was trying to find a reason why you’re plate was way smaller than his. the way he frowned, checking your plate and then gazing at his; comparing them, and the way your boyfriend’s mouth was open and then and closed like he wanted to say something, you knew you already got him.

“did you ate something earlier?” he frowned even harder this time. “no?” you cocked a brow like it was a dumb question. “then why did you gave me more food?” jungwon was comparing your plate with his. “oh,” you pretended to realise the reason behind his frown. “it’s nothing, it’s just all we had left in the pot.” “just that?” he raised his brows and his eyes went slightly wider.

jungwon, after comparing his plate with yours one last time, walked closer to the pot, slightly pushing you to the right, placing his plate on the kitchen counter. your boyfriend proceeded to take out the pot’s lid and check if there wasn’t anymore of the dish you made left in the pot — and for his surprise and relief, there was.

“surprise! i guess…” you playfully exclaimed, lowing your tone gradually, hearing his relieved chuckle. “you’re sooo funny, aren’t you?” jungwon asked you in a playful way as well. “sorry.” you were laughing at his playfulness. your boyfriend kissed your forehead affectionately, murmuring: “it’s okay, i just want to see you healthy. i love you.”

first of all, riki is a prankster, so whenever you tried to prank him, he always got your tricks. but this time was completely different. while the pranks you usually do are uncommon situations, this one was kind of unexpected since it envolves something that both of you do daily.

you cooked some food and called your boyfriend, who was upstairs playing on his pc with his friends. hearing his fast footsteps, you quickly placed his plate on the table, greeting him with an smile. “hi~” you spoke softly and he smiled. “hi.” he got close to you and hugged your waist, kissing your cheek.

riki sat on the table and stared down at his plate while he waited for you to get yours. when he saw how small your portion was, he looked up at you. “what is that?” he asked while you sat down by his side. “food?” you answered him like it was obvious. “what i see it’s just a piece of something with half of nothing.” “haha, funny.” you playfully rolled your eyes at him, hearing his laugh.

“no but, for real, are you okay? you usually make a full plate.” his focus was not even eating anymore, but you. “no, it’s oka-“ “no, it’s not, are you okay? why aren’t you eating?” “i’m eating just what was left.” you shrugged. “what do you mean?” he cocked his head at your vague explanation. “that’s all we had left in the pot.” “that’s all we had?!” his eyes widened, and he looked at his plate and when he was just about to move to share some with you, you stopped him. “no ‘ki, sto-“ “no, babe, i’m not even that hungry.” feeling guilty, you pouted and decided to reveal it was all a joke before he could share some of the food in his plate with you.

“it’s a prank, ‘ki, you can eat, we have enough food.” he frowned. “i think you’re lying to me this time, you can’t prank ‘prankster riki’.” he squinted his eyes at you, and you looked away feeling intimidated. “i’ll get some food and show you it is a prank.” — and in the end he let out a defeated sigh, humming an “wah…” in disbelief when he saw your plate finally full; and realising he was officially pranked by his girlfriend.

and that was the first time he was pranked and you even earned a kiss — because riki was actually impressed that you finally fooled him after a long time attempting and planning to prank him even though he insists that he wasn’t pranked because he was actually worried about your health.

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echobx · 1 day

Note

Barry leaves, asking Rafe to watch his sister, who overhears and objects. Despite her attempts to seduce Rafe, He declines. That night after Barry goes to sleep he confesses his love to her and they have passionate slow sex

Rafe Cameron × Barry's little sister!reader

warnings: p in v (protected), fingering, light oral (fem receiving)

word count: 2.2k

author's note: I hope what I did here is not dissapointing you bestie 💕and if I'ma 100% honest with you, my brain never comes up with anything for Rafe so this is a blessing because I need to write him more (accidentally wanted to write "need to ride him" there lol)

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You're standing in the kitchen of your trailer, your big brother and his friend Rafe are sitting on the couch just a few feet away from you. You never intend to eavesdrop on them, especially because you really don't want to know about all the illegal shit your brother gets up to. You've learned to keep out of Barry's business and only ever do something when he specifically asks you to. Like the one time he needed you to smuggle something over the border, so you packed your suitcase, and your innocent best friend, and had a girl's trip. No one would suspect a cute and innocent looking girl like you to be the sister of one of the biggest fish in the OBX.

“I need you to stay here, make sure no one comes around and tries anything while I go pick up the new shit,” Barry says in a low voice, not wanting you to listen of course. “Isn't she old enough, though?” Rafe asks and you smile into yourself a little. You like that he trusts you more than your brother does, but then again it's the simple brotherly instinct to want to have you taken care of. And who better to do that then his best friend. Of course. “Just keep an eye on her,” Barry sighs. “I don't need a babysitter,” you speak up and turn around to look at them both. “Who said anything about babysitting?” Rafe cocks his eyebrow up, trying his best to seem innocent. “Exactly,” Barry hesitates. “Rafe will just wait for me here until I get back. No babysitting. Just waiting and you're here too, sis.” “Ugh, you guys are the worst,” you groan and walk back into your room.

You decide to go through your closet, putting on a pair of dungarees over a simple red top first and walking back into the living area. Barry had left already, and you decided to play a little game with Rafe, unbeknownst to him. “What do you think?” you ask and twirl around, and he lifts his head to look at you. “Cute,” he notes and dips his head again, looking back to his phone. You go and try on something else. A mini skirt and loop top, showing off your belly button piercing. “How about this?” you ask him again and this time his eyes linger for a little longer, but he just shrugs. “Looks good to me.” You groan and stomp back into your room. Picking out a shirt that is basically see-through and a pair of hot pants that really should probably not count as pants, but panties. You step back out and walk straight over to him, placing yourself in front of him and twirling your hair. Rafe's eyes get stuck on your tits before he looks up at you and gulps. “That's something,” he rasps and lifts his hips in his seat, but he doesn't go further.

Not only are you frustrated because none of your attempts have shown any real effect, but also because all you want is for him to just fuck you. It's not really that easy to find a guy when you have a brother who threatens anyone you even think about bringing home. But Rafe's at your place basically every single day. Barry finds him trustworthy enough to stay with you while he's out. And on top of that, you know of the rumors. You know of Rafe's reputation. He takes what he wants, and he doesn't leave until he's satisfied. That's what you wanted for yourself. Especially for your first time. Which is why it also doesn't make sense to you that he hasn't made a move on you yet, especially considering how you always flirt with him as soon as Barry leaves the room.

You decide to let it go, instead only putting on an oversized shirt, no bra and a pair of shorts. Your usual look, basically. When you come back out, Rafe's already looking at you, he's smiling. “I like that one too,” he says, and you roll your eyes. “Whatever.” “Since when do you have a piercing?” Rafe asks and watches you sit down on the other end of the couch. “Few months ago. Thought if I hide it long enough, my brother can't tell me off about it anymore,” you shrug, bored out of your mind really. And you don't realize that Rafe keeps talking to you about you, and not just about random shit like usually. He asks about your favorite things, and he doesn't even make fun of you for how polar opposite it all is to how people perceive you. No one would expect a trailer park chick to be a math nerd, or like classical music the same amount as rap. But Rafe finds it fascinating. He's practically enamored by you, but you're too stuck in your head to even really notice it.

“This is prolly the best shit I had in months,” Barry grins while walking in, taking a small bag of shit out of his backpack and throwing it towards Rafe. “Think we can at least triple that,” he says, and goes to stash the rest. Rafe is dipping his pinky into the powder and rubs it on his gums. “Oh, that's good,” he nods and leans back. They spend the rest of the night talking about how much they can take for it and the usual split. And you just sit there, watching and listening and zoning out and thinking about more fun things, like, what if Rafe didn't just see Barry's little sister in you.

The night progresses and you go to your room, telling them you're tired, when you really are just not in the mood to listen to them any longer. That's how you found yourself, two hours later, lying in your bed, body turned away from the door but still wide awake when the door opens and closes with a soft creak. “Y/n?” Rafe asks and you pretend to be asleep. “Are you awake?” You keep your eyes closed in case he walks around your bed to check on it, but he doesn't, instead he just sits down next to you and sighs. “I don't know how to keep doing this, to keep pretending like I don't care,” he whispers, and your heart starts beating a little faster. “But I can't do what I want to either. I'm not supposed to- Fuck, y/n, I wish I could tell you how much I love you,” he sighs, and you rip your eyes open.

“You what?” You flip around and stare at him. Rafe looks at you, completely flabbergasted, he really didn't expect you to hear him. But now it's too late, and he can't take it back anymore. “I'm in love with you,” he whispers, and you sit up. “And I don't- I can't keep going like this, not when you do shit like today and all I can think of is bending you over and fucking you until you beg me to stop.” “Then do it,” you whisper. “What?” “Fuck me.” You look at him and he shakes his head. “Barry would kill me.” “I don't care about my brother. I don't want my brother. I want you,” you tell him and lean in to kiss him.

It's a gentle peck that you place on his soft lips. Rafe takes his hands up to hold onto your neck as he reciprocates the kiss, harshly and with a demanding manner that makes you feel like putty in his hands. You try to stay quiet, but the way his tongue presses against yours makes you want to moan louder than you ever anticipated from a simple kiss. But Rafe knows what he wants, and now that he's had a taste, he's not stopping. His hands find your waist, running up and taking your shirt off you. Rafe stops kissing you to admire your body, hands groping at the flesh of your tits, and you have to bite your lip to not moan. “Take off your shirt,” you whisper, and he follows suit, throwing it somewhere on the floor before starting to kiss down your body. Lips trailing down your neck to the valley of your breasts, then farther down, sucking your piercing between his teeth before kissing your clothed clit. “You smell so good, baby,” he moans against your cunt, before slapping against your thigh, and you instinctively lift your hips and let him take off your slip.

“If that's not the prettiest pussy I've seen in my life,” Rafe hums before licking a stride up your slick folds and closing his lips around your sensitive bud. Shallow moans and quiet gasps leave you as you grasp into his hair, trying to hold onto anything you can get your hands on while he edges you on. “More, please, Rafe,” you beg and he looks up with a smirk. “Want me to fuck you, baby?” “Yes, please, please.” Rafe thrusts his fingers into your tight hole and your back arches up. His fingers curl up and prod against your walls, making you squirm under him. “God, you're tight, it's almost like-” he stops and looks at you. “Have you never had sex?” You feel ashamed at first, but you can't lie, you know he's gonna find out eventually. So you shake your head and hope he doesn't mind. “Jesus, baby, you should've said something. I would've come over and fucked you way earlier if that's all you wanted this whole time,” he whispers and kisses you, his hand still working on your pussy until you feel like you're about to explode. “Cum for me, baby, I know you want to. Soak my fingers,” he growls into your ear, and you let go. Your moans are swallowed by his lips on yours and his fingers fuck you through your high until you lie there, panting and happier than ever.

“Need more,” you rasp and pull on his shorts, trying to open the button. “Really needy, aren't you,” Rafe chuckles and gets up to take off his shorts and boxers. Your eyes go wide when you see how big he is. Maybe it wasn't the best idea to pick Rafe of all people for your first time, but there’s no going back now. You watch him pump his dick a few times before rolling on a condom and coming back to kneel between your legs. “You have to tell me if it hurts. I don't wanna hurt you,” he says, and you nod, biting your lips in anticipation. His tip nudges your hole, and you take a deep breath as he starts pushing into you. Forgetting that he wanted to go slow, Rafe bottoms out, and you feel like you're being split in two. “Shit, are you okay?” he asks, and you nod, trying to not cry from the stinging feeling. “Go slow, please,” you whisper, and he kisses you, distracting you from the pain between your legs. He pulls out slowly and pushes back into you, groaning quietly against the skin on your neck. Your hands are clasping his shoulders and your legs are wrapped around his middle, letting him hit even deeper inside you with his shallow thrusts.

“You feel so good, baby. This pussy is made for me,” Rafe muses, kissing your neck and sucking on the soft skin, leaving marks for days. Your mind is dazed. The pain you had felt just minutes before is replaced with pure pleasure and the way he longingly stares into your eyes. You didn't expect him to be so gentle with you, but now that you have it, you want nothing more than to do it over and over again. “Fuck, you're so tight,” Rafe grunts, gradually fasting his pace. He pulls out almost completely, leaving you empty and babbling for more until he slams back in, holding onto the headboard of your bed so it doesn't hit against the wall. “You're mine. My girl,” Rafe grunts and rams into you another time. “Yours,” you moan softly, still trying to keep quiet and not wake your brother next door. But Rafe seems to have forgotten about it. His right hand comes down to hold onto your neck, and he starts pounding into you harsher and faster than you thought possible. Maybe he really wants to try to impale you with his cock, and you know you'd let him. It's overwhelming, and you feel the band inside you go tighter with each heavy thrust. “Let go, baby, I got you,” Rafe looks down at you and smiles, you can feel it inside of you, the warmth, and then you're lost. It feels like you're falling and when he pushes into you deeper and halts, you're caught again.

Your poor cunt won't stop clenching even after he had pulled out and disposed of the condom. You're hot and cold at the same time, like a storm had just washed over you and left you speechless. “Next time we do this, you can be as loud as you want to, baby,” Rafe whispers and kisses your neck, holding you tightly in his arms before you both drift into a deep slumber.

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taglist: @ijustwantttoread @spideysimpossiblegirl @redhead1180 @princessmaybank @kys4-20 @drwstarkeyy @immyowndefender @julczimozart

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron fanfic #obx #obx fanfiction #smut #~fanfiction #~ask #@rafemotherfuckingcameron #rafe smut #rafe cameron x y/n #obx smut #~prompt

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coco-loco-nut · 2 days

Text

Guilty as Sin?

pairing: Oscar x Reader

summary: you can’t help but to long for the Australian boy you met

a/n: sorry it took a while, i was adding ✨plot✨ and did as much research I could

masterlist ttpd masterlist

———————

Being the younger twin sister of the heir apparent to the throne is stressful, but it has allowed you to do a lot of things, such as attending the Dutch Grand Prix. Obviously you were there to support Max and meet all the Athletes, but it’s where you met and befriended Oscar. The Australian was nice and didn’t treat you any different because of your status, not to mention he was cute.

Since then, there’s been a shift in your mood. You are bored more than ever, the guilded cage of the castle that contains you is no longer fine. You text Oscar about it, requesting a song recommendation to change things up, he sends you a song that you haven’t heard in a while. It makes you want to cry, the idea of being stuck here forever until your sister marries and has children. For now you are stuck in the castle, pining over a guy who only knows you via texts.

Lately your dreams have been of cracking the locks that keep you in. When you escape you’d go on adventures with Oscar, crashing into him like the ocean waves crash onto rocks. Each dream leaves you longing for him more and more.

You can’t tell if he is just being cordial and politely responding, or if he is interested and flirting. Every time you flirt, things seem to get cold after. He’s a paradox over text, leaving you wondering if you are mad for thinking there was a chance.

You turn to your older sister for advice, telling her about what he does to you in your dreams. Secret trysts in the hedge maze, messy kisses, hands roaming each other’s skin. You keep recalling things you never did, as if he’s written mine on your upper thigh. You’d die happy if it were real.

“You know, there’s no such thing as bad thoughts, only your actions talk. I’ll talk to Papa about maybe going to Spain for a race in couple months,” Amalia says, invested in how this will play out.

You go on a few dates with various wealthy and noble guys your age, trying to distract yourself from the longings locked inside a vault deep inside you. Every date leaves you unsatisfied, counting down the days until you are in Spain. The fatal fantasies visit you in your dreams every night, leaving you feel like you’ve made a vow to Oscar that you are supposed to uphold somehow, despite knowing it’s all make believe.

You and Amalia fly out to Spain without the rest of your family, spending the week with the Spanish royal family. You are friends with the princesses and their cousins so it is a great distraction.

“Y/n, who is your favorite driver?” Leonor and Sophia ask as you lay on the floor of Leonor’s room together.

“Oscar,” Amalia answers for you as your cheeks flame. “She’s always texting him,”

“Amalia,” you groan, hiding your face with your hands.

“We are definitely stopping by the McLaren garage then,” Sophia grins, nudging you. Their cousins Irene, Miguel, Pablo, and Victoria arrive tomorrow morning to complete your group that is attending the Grand Prix. You had a crush on Miguel growing up, but it quickly passed once you turned 15.

“Girls, it’s time for Amalia and Y/n to return to their hotel, and the four of you have to be up early for tomorrow,” Queen Letizia says, opening the door slightly.

“Alright, we will see you tomorrow for breakfast and the driver reception,” Leonor sighs as the four of you stand up.

“Thank you for having us,” Amalia thanks the queen as you leave.

“You are always welcome, we will see you girls tomorrow,” she smiles, making sure her assistant gets you to the chauffeured car safely. The trip from Palauet Albéniz to your hotel is relatively short, one you didn’t realize was housing multiple drivers. You don’t notice Oscar as you walk into the hotel, a small security escort around you, but he notices you. He’s tempted to text you and ask why you are here, but Lando distracts him, giving him his room key and number.

Your room is plush, but lonely. You stare at your texts with Oscar, tempted to let him know you are in Spain, but something stops you. The morning is busy, your alarm waking you up early to shower and dress. You choose something simple but beautiful for the day. Your light blue dress lays nicely on you with matching heels, and your hair is styled neatly, a headband in place of a tiara. Your visit isn’t a state visit, so it is nice to have flexibility in your attire. A knock on your door tells you that Amalia is waiting outside for you.

Once again, you don’t notice Oscar as you leave, your eyes looking ahead, surrounded by the security detail.

“Your girlfriend is here,” Lando teases Oscar, noticing who he was looking at.

“She’s a princess, I would never be able to date her. She flirts over text, but I don’t want to hurt her,” Oscar sighs, watching you get into a car and leave.

“I think you already have,” Lando says, letting Oscar think.

You arrive to the palace, eager to see your friends again. Breakfast is wonderful, and afterwards you all go outside to the gardens to catch up. Despite only seeing each other every few years, your group chat is alive and well.

“Go talk to Miguel, he’s been eyeing you since breakfast,” Sophia tells you, you look over to her cousin. He has aged well since you last saw him. “Ask him about school, oceanography,” she nudges you in his direction.

“Oceanography? How’s that?” you slide up beside Miguel, deciding it’s a good idea to try and move on again. You listen enthusiastically as he talks about his studies and living in London.

“What are you studying?” he returns your question.

“History with minors in French and German. Nothing terribly exciting,” you say, a slight blush appearing on your face as he focuses on you. The two of you unconsciously separate from the group, caught up in conversation. Victoria and Irene grab the two of you, informing you that it is time to go back inside for the drivers welcome and lunch. Miguel’s hand rests lightly on the small of your back as you walk up the stairs.

“We will wait for you at lunch,” Pablo says to Leonor and Sophia, the six of you ready to find something to do as the drivers arrive from their hotels.

“No, join us. Mama and Papa would want you there,” Leonor says so you follow her in. The six of you stand a few behind the four royals, following royal protocol in that regard. You are chatting with Irene and Miguel quietly when the drivers walk in.

“Accompany me to the Opera tonight,” Miguel says quickly, you nod and blush a little before turning you attention to the drivers, eyes instantly meeting Oscar’s, your blush deepens a little before you put on your royal mask. It doesn’t matter if your date with Miguel goes well or not, deep down you know that you’d drop him for Oscar immediately if asked. One by one, the drivers are introduced before you are allowed to mingle before lunch.

“Your Royal Highnesses,” Max bows before you and Amalia as the two of you approach him.

“Max, it’s wonderful to see you again. Please don’t bow, you only need to in formal situations,” you smile, greeting the champion.

“Yes, no need to bow when we aren’t here formally visiting. We will be cheering for you this weekend,” Amalia says and you notice Oscar standing nearby.

“Excuse me,” you excuse yourself from the conversation, Max takes no offense as he sees you beeline to the Australian, Amalia continues her conversation with Max. It would be a bad look for the heir apparent to brush off her own countryman.

“Y/n! What are you doing here?” Oscar asks happily, unsure if he can hug his friend, acting like he didn’t know she was here.

“Surprise visit. I didn’t want to wait until the Dutch Grand Prix to see my friend again, and I wanted to visit my friends. My sisters and I are close with the princesses and their cousins, but Amalia and I were the only ones who flew out since we like the sport. Sorry, I’m rambling,” you laugh nervously.

“That’s okay, it’s cute,” Oscar says with a cute smile, not quite realizing what he was saying.

“Thanks, that means a lot coming from you,” you can’t openly flirt with the Australian here, but you do your best.

“I’m sorry, Lando is beckoning me to him, visit me in the McLaren garage, yeah?” Oscar asks.

“I’d love to,” you smile, watching him go to his teammate. You rejoin your sister and Max, effortlessly sliding into the conversation. You can tell Leonor had a hand in the lunch seating because she placed you between Oscar and Max, Amalia was on the other side of max. Carlos and Fernando were sat near the King and Queen.

“Y/n, how does this work? I’ve never been to a royal meal before,” Oscar discreetly asks you.

“Follow the pattern for who to speak to, It will be dictated by the king, for everything else just follow my lead. King Felipe is a slower eater so you should have time to finish your meal, and this is more laid back than a state dinner. If I were wearing a tiara, you’d be in trouble,” you joke, Oscar seems relieved at your explanation. You turn to Max first, discussing the race and things he misses about the Netherlands. Once the meal is served, you turn to Oscar.

“This is a lot less stressful than what I imagined,” Oscar smiles, having trusted your quick overview of what to do, one he just shared with Lando.

“Not every meal is full of such protocol, usually just for guests and important meals. You should’ve told me you’d be here, I could’ve answered your questions. I only thought that Carlos and Fernando would be here,” you admit and he shrugs, balancing his talking and eating.

“I don’t know why I didn’t think of it. Sometimes I forget you are third in line to the throne,” you scrunch you nose, cringing a little.

“Don’t remind me,” you laugh a bit so he knows you are joking. “Where are they housing you?” you ask, taking a bite of food.

“The Hotel Arts,” Oscar says, ready to act surprised when you say where you are staying.

“Ah, Mr Fancy Pants. Living it up like royalty, I see,” you smirk, glancing around the table to make sure you are eating at the right pace.

“I take it you are staying there as well then,” Oscar says, taking the hint.

“Yes, we should get breakfast one morning before you go to the track,” you suggest, a little hope in your heart.

“I’d really like that,” Oscar thinks back on Lando’s words, deciding to take the risk. He’s worried about your life as a princess more than anything that will happen to him if he were to date you.

“Maybe not tomorrow though, I am going to the Opera tonight so I will be nursing a wine hangover,” you appreciate the light and easy conversation you are able to have with Oscar.

“Sounds like a deal, we can play it by ear,” Oscar smiles. The two of you turn your attention to your meals. The rest of the day passes quickly, the drivers having left after the lunch.

You and Amalia go back to the hotel to get ready for the opera. You just finished putting your heels on and securing your tiara when there is a knock on the door.

“Oscar?” you say confused at the Australian standing outside your door.

“I brought wine, figured you’d want to get the party started early. You look stunning, by the way,” He says, inviting himself into the small living room space.

“I thought drivers don’t drink before race weekends,” you smile, carefully sitting beside him.

“One glass won’t hurt,” he pours two glasses, carefully handing you one. It’s a cheaper wine, likely bought from across the street rather than from the bar downstairs.

“I’d also take shots, but wine is nice. Thanks, Osc,” you sip the white wine. Oscar chose a safer choice than a red. You have time before heading down with Amalia where one of the cars will pick you up.

“So why the tiara?”

“The opera is considered a white or black tie event, I don’t remember which it is. Plus, I agreed to go as Miguel’s date so I have to look perfect or else the media will slaughter me,” you sigh, taking a large sip of the wine.

“Oh, that sucks,” Oscar digests the last bit of information.

“He’s a great guy, but I think he’s more of a friend. I have my eye on someone else anyway,” you add on, quickly glancing at Oscar who regains his hope, noticing your glance.

“Any guy would be lucky to have you,” Oscar says as Amalia enters the room.

“Hello, Oscar. Y/n, we have to go, they are close,” she says, the two of you finish your wine.

“Thanks for the glass of wine, good luck tomorrow if I don’t see you,” you press a gentle kiss to his cheek, following Amalia out the door. You trust Oscar to leave once he cleans up the wine.

The opera is nice, and the next two days are fun as you spend time in the paddock. You wake up early to join Oscar for breakfast on the race day.

“Orange? For me?” Oscar grins after you order. You are wearing an orange blouse with white pants and heels. Since it isn’t the Dutch Grand Prix, you have a small pin with a bull and the number one on it attached to your blouse.

“For Max, but also for you,” you smile back.

“It’s actually papaya, I can get McLaren to gift you some stuff,” he says, leaning back in his chair a bit.

“That’s okay, I have enough Red Bull team wear in my closet. I wouldn’t even be allowed in McLaren clothing unless there was a better reason other than being friends with the driver, unfortunately Max takes precedence there. Also, I have money to buy McLaren merch, they are better off gifting merch to other fans,” you say, sipping your water.

“So what can I do to get you to openly support me?” he asks, knowing one of the answers.

“Well, if you get a podium at Zandvoort I can hand you your trophy,” you tell him and he nods.

“I can do that, maybe I will beat Max,”

“Yeah, don’t do that,” your laugh is music to him. The two of you finish your breakfast, both having obligations to attend to. You and Amalia arrive to the paddock together, only joining the Spanish royals for the actual race.

“Welcome to Red Bull, Your Royal Highnesses,” a hospitality employee greets you as you enter the garage.

“Hello, Max,” Amalia greets the driver with a smile.

“Good morning, Your Royal Highnesses. Welcome to our garage,” Max smiles, a girl and a woman with him.

“Maxie, are they real life princesses?” the little girl asks. She pulls at your heartstrings, your royal foundation works with young girls.

“We are, what is your name?” You kneel down as she looks at you with wide eyes, curtsying.

“Penelope,”

“Hi Penelope, my name is Y/n. You curtsied beautifully, but there is no need to curtsy to a friend,” you tell her, glancing up at Max and the woman who you assume is her mother.

“This is Kelly, my girlfriend, and her daughter, Penelope,” Max introduces them to you.

“Would you like a picture, Penelope?” Amalia asks, the little girl nods.

“That’s my big sister, she’s going to be a queen one day,” you tell Penelope as if it’s a secret.

“Can I, Mommy? I want Maxie in it too,” Penelope asks, when Kelly agrees, you carefully pick up Penelope. Both Red Bull and Kelly take photos. You chat with the group until you realize there isn’t too long until you will have to join the royal family, so you excuse yourself to walk a few garages down.

“Can I help you?” someone in papaya stops you from going too close.

“Yes, I’m here to visit my friend, Oscar,” you start, looking into the garage.

“Y/n! You made it,” Oscar wraps an arm around your shoulder, guiding you inside.

“I don’t believe we’ve met, Princess. My name is Lando Norris of the United Kingdom,” Oscar’s teammate extends his hand, you find the childish antic amusing. You give him your hand, he bows slightly, lightly kissing the back of your hand.

“The pleasure is mine, Mr. Norris,” you giggle, feeding into the antics. Oscar went from worried to amused in those thirty seconds.

“Alright, she’s my friend, not yours. Find your own princess to hog,” Oscar pulls you away, his smile betraying his annoyed tone. You get some silly pictures together, and he puts his helmet on you before one photo.

“I could totally drive one of these,” you say, lying to see his reaction.

“When we get to the Netherlands, I’m racing you in karts and taking you on a hot lap then,” Oscar laughs as your eyes widen.

“Bring it on,” you don’t back down. Oscar could kiss you right now, but he never did ask about how your date to the opera went, so he doesn’t.

“Oscar, I’d like my sister to be returned, please,” Amalia says, walking over to the two of you.

“Oscar, I found my princess!” Lando grins, Amalia’s confused reaction causes you to snort and Oscar to laugh.

“She’s off limits to you, Lando. You aren’t king material,” you tell him, gently patting his shoulder.

“But Oscar is prince material?” Lando asks. Amalia drags you out of the garage before either of you can reply.

The race is exciting and you watch eagerly.

“Who is your favorite driver?” Pablo asks, watching from beside you.

“Politically, Max. Personally, Oscar Piastri, he’s a close friend,” you say, watching the track as Oscar passes, fighting for P3.

“It’s a shame my brother and you aren’t a match,” he says, referring to the Opera.

“We are better off as friends, something we realized quickly. Once we realized that we weren’t teenagers anymore, the Opera got much better,” you chuckle.

You are aware of the cameras watching your box as the race ends. You and Amalia celebrate carefully, not doing much other than clap and excitedly talk to each other. The podium ended with Carlos winning, Max in P2, and Oscar in P3. Max dropped in the last couple laps, his tires degrading too early.

That night you show up to the club with Irene and Victoria, being the only girls who could go out and not be yelled at. Your black party dress doesn’t leave much to the imagination, but your coat doesn’t let photographers know as you step into the club with them. After checking your coat, you head to the bar where you notice drivers taking shots.

“This round on me,” you tell Irene and Victoria. You order your round and a vodka Red Bull for after the shots.

“Princess! Oscar, your princess is here!” Lando slurs, calling over a slightly less drunk Oscar.

“You look incredible,” his smile causes you to blush. You notice Max and Carlos observing the interaction.

“Shots for the podium! And ladies, and I guess Lando,” you declare, ordering seven shots. You all take them and you are feeling a lot braver at flirting with Oscar.

“What are you drinking?” Oscar asks, standing close to you, his breath warm on your ear.

“Vodka Red Bull,” you tell him, sipping the drink.

“Hey Max, your princess really is your fan. She’s drinking a vodka Red Bull,” Oscar tells the Dutchman.

“It’s a good choice,” Max smiles, unsure how he feels about partying with the third in line to his home country. Carlos, however, has no problems, talking to Irene and Victoria.

“Dance with me,” you tell Oscar as you finish your drink, he follows you onto the dance floor, bodies close. His hands stay on your hips, holding you close but trying to stay respectful. A couple songs later you kiss him, and his hands wrap around you, pulling you into him.

Soon after, you are getting your coat and heading back to your hotel, pulling him into your room. Scenes from nights you’ve spent together flash through your mind, ones where he has you screaming his name, building up like waves and crashing over and over again. His hands roam your skin, bedsheets ablaze, maybe you can be guilty as sin this time.

You wake up in his embrace, his soft snores tell you he’s still asleep. You think about your options. After this weekend, you’ll face criticism anyway, why not go after someone you’ve been pining after. The public will always have opinions about who you date, but the way it feels when Oscar holds you is so right. The only way they will be happy is if you never date or marry until you’re thirty. They don’t know how keeping the crush to yourself haunted you every night, and how he is stunningly perfect.

“What’s going through that pretty mind of yours?” Oscar asks sleepily, pushing a strand of hair behind your ear.

“I choose you and me, no matter what the public says,” you whisper, looking in his half awake eyes.

“Finally. I choose us too,” he smiles, pulling you into his chest.

“I still can’t openly support you as opposed to Max,” you smile, Oscar’s eyes open again.

“I will propose right now,” he says, quite seriously. You giggle, running your hand up his chest.

“Don’t, that’s a whole process and a lot of conversations that I don’t feel like going through yet,” you say, feeling Oscar’s chest vibrate as he hums in agreement. He looked up what would happen if he were to marry you one night while texting you. He’d have to become a naturalized citizen, your parents would announce the engagement, then the parliament would have to approve the marriage in order for you to stay a member of the royal household.

Oscar gets up half an hour later, needing to board a plane to Austria with the team. As he waits to taxi, he sends you the link to a song, the same one he sent a couple months ago. The past twenty four hours have been better than any dream. Are you allowed to cry happy tears?

#f1 imagines #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri #oscar piastri x reader #the tourtured poets department #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #max verstappen #carlos sainz

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sweetbans29 · 2 days

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Little Ones - CC

Pairing: Caitlin Clark x Reader

Summary: When talk becomes reality - baby edition (based on THIS request)

Warnings: Caitlin with kids is a warning - fight me, the photo is form when she was a Hawkeye, fic is when she is with the Fever

Word Count: 1.9k

Sweetbans Masterlist

AN: Okay but CC with kids is such a mood - she is just as cute (if not cuter) than the kids!

"Will you marry me?" Caitlin says while she is down on one knee, The two of you took (at least what you thought was) a spontaneous trip to the eastern coast in the middle of the night to go watch the sunrise. Now here you are, sun on the horizon, standing in complete shock in front of the love of your life, her down on one knee asking you to marry her.

"Yes." You say as Caitlin, with shakey hands, takes the ring out of the box and places it on your finger. Her touch is so gentle as her hands continue to shake with now-settled nerves and pure excitement. Once the ring is on your finger she jumps up, wrapping her in your arms and spinning you around. As she does, you let out the most beautiful laugh she has ever heard and yell 'We're getting married' at the top of your lungs not caring that the world is still asleep. Caitlin didn't think she could, but she fell more in love with you at that moment.

As the two of you drive back, you can't stop looking down at the ring that your now fiance has gotten you. It's so much bigger than any ring you ever imagined would live on your hand.

"It is so big," you say, eyes still in awe and heart still swollen from the events of the morning.

"You deserve even more," Caitlin says as she places a hand on your thigh, giving it a little squeeze.

You go silent as you continue looking at the stone. The two of you are still in college and if you are honest, it sort of scares you to think about you walking around with something so valuable.

Caitlin senses your shift.

"Hey," she says in the softest tone. "We can get you something smaller if that would make you more comfortable."

She knows you all too well. You were never the one to wear a lot of jewelry and the times that you had put something nice on, it was always something simple and dainty.

But you also know her well. This ring is a declaration of her love for everyone to see. She is proud that everyone knows you are hers and wants the world to see. You would never take that away from her.

"No, no. I absolutely love it. I was thinking just maybe something temporary while we finish school. Like one of those rubber ones that athletes wear - just so no one jumps me and cuts off my hand for this in that parking lot or something." The second you say it, the two of you burst out laughing.

"You would think about someone cutting off your hand," Caitlin says, continuing to laugh.

"Hey! There are some crazy people out there and this is worth a pretty penny," you say, eyes still glued to the ring.

You hear Caitlin mumble something along the lines of 'try 50 pretty pennies'. Your head whips around to her and she just gives you a shy look.

The two of you decide that you will get a silicone ring to wear while you finish out college and then switch back to the ring Caitlin got you, with the exception of date nights and family events.

When you get back to your college town, you guys stop to get some food. You ask her all the questions about when she started planning when she got the ring, and everything. She told you everything you wanted to know down to asking your dad for his blessing over one of your school breaks. You sit there amazed, taking in every word, not believing she is the one you get to spend the rest of your life with.

*6 months later*

Caitlin is at practice with her team one winter afternoon when the conversation presents itself yet again. Cait is now in her first season of the WNBA and has fit into the Indiana Fever perfectly. Everyone loves her and they have slowly been getting to know you.

"Did you see that Jess and Nick are expecting?" NaLyssa says as they are in a circle stretching. "They just announced they are going to be having a baby boy."

Everyone in the circle is sending NaLyssa dagger looks knowing the can of worms she just opened is one that Caitlin won't stop talking about.

"Awww, that is so cute!" Caitlin says with unmatched excitement. "You know, I can't wait to have a little one - just imagine them running around in little Fever gear and coming to all the games. It would be the cutest thing," Caitlin says and then proceeds to go on about how much she wants kids and can't want to have little mini-Caitlins running around.

"What if they come out as little versions of your lady?" Erika says. "They would also be pretty cute running around here."

"Don't get me started on if they are little versions of her," Caitlin says with pure excitement. "I would never be able to say not to them!"

When they are done stretching, they head into a cardio practice. Every break, Caitlin brings up something kid-related - how cute they would be, how she would teach them any sport they want, how she would want to make them proud that she is their mom. It gets to the point where the team walks away when Caitlin begins talking on the subject. Everyone with the exception of Erika, who has taken Cait in both on the court and off. She toughs it out and listens to Caitlin ramble about someday having kids. She is also the only one on the team that knows Caitlin and you are engaged. So she feels it is only fitting she let your girl ramble on about how someday family.

*18 months later*

Caitlin's 3rd year in the WNBA and she is still on fire. She was named both Rookie of the Year her first year as well as MVP - only the second to do that in the history of WNBA history.

The team is pretty much the same, with the exception of a few trades and added rookies. Erika and Lexie are still closer than ever to Caitlin on the court.

The conversation of kids comes up again when Lexie mentions her little one has started teething.

"Isn't it the worst?" Caitlin says. "You just hate seeing them in pain and you can't really do anything about it."

"I know! I just want to cuddle him but he is super fussy and is running warm." Lexie says. "It is heartbreaking."

"Right?" Caitlin says, which earns some looks from some of the other girls on the team.

Practice ends and everyone goes home for the day. A few days pass and Lexi brings up her son again.

"This whole teething thing has been terrible for our sleep schedule. Miles is up every hour and will not stay down," Lexie says while looking exhausted.

"Have you tried freezing fruit and putting it in any of the fresh food feeders for him? It might help with keeping his gums soothed." Caitlin says.

"I will have to try that!" Lexie says and thanks Caitlin for the tip. Nobody outwardly questions why Caitlin knows that but there are a few that give her quizzical looks when she offers pretty spot-on advice about a teething baby.

Once again, they end the practice and head their separate ways.

The following day is game day. The team all arrive in their own game-day attire. Caitlin walks in and goes to her locker. As she is going through her stuff she looks everywhere for her shoes.

Erika walks over. "Everything good CC?" She asks as Cait is looking through everything she has.

"No, I am somehow missing my shoes," she says as she scans through everything again.

Just as Caitlin is about to call you, Erika passes her her shoes. Caitlin mumbles a thank you and finishes getting ready.

The team heads out to warm up. The crowd is going crazy as it is one of the final games of the season. The team is warming up and Caitlin feels like there is something off. She finishes warm-ups and realizes she isn't wearing her headband to keep her fly-aways out of her face. She curses and then hears a familiar voice.

"Caitlin!" You try to get her attention, a little girl attached to your hip.

"MAMA!" Your little girl screams at the top of her lungs.

Caitlin can't help but smile as she makes eye contact with her little one. The smile on your child whenever she sees her mama is unmatched. Once you are close enough, you set your baby down and she goes running (waddling) over to Caitlin.

"Hi, little one!" Caitlin says as she picks up her child and attacks her with kisses.

You make your way to them and hand Caitlin her headband. "You forgot this," you say.

"Thanks, babe," She says as she gives you a little kiss.

Caitlin sets your little one down and she just looks up pointing at Caitlin's team. Caitlin lowers to her level and points at them with her.

"You know who they are," Caitlin says to her little one. Her little one claps with a smile. You come up behind her and scoop her up, knowing Caitlin needs to get back to her team. You give a little wave to Cait and your little one waves at her mama.

"Bye Mama!" she says continuing to wave her little arm from side to side.

Caitlin is still on a little cloud nine after seeing her little one before the game and that they brought her the one thing she needed that she completely forgot that her whole team was huddled right next to her.

"Mama?" Aliyah asks with a shocked expression.

"YOU HAVE A KID???" Erika comes barreling over in disbelief. "SINCE WHEN???"

"Well by the looks of her little one, looks like she is about a year and a half," Lexie says with a smile on her face. "Is that why you know so much about teething babies?"

"Ya, she has been on and off teething for a while now," Caitlin says with a little blush tinting her cheeks.

The team is all hooting and hollering as their coach calls them over to huddle before tip-off.

Caitlin wears a smile for the entirety of the huddle. It's not like Caitlin and you were trying to keep it a secret, it was mostly to keep her out of the eye of the media. But she was happy that the news was out to her team. It just means there are 14 other women who can speak into her daughter's life and love her.

As the team takes their place on the floor, Caitlin looks up to where you normally sit in the stands. It is the first time she sees you and little one in the crowd together.

When you notice Caitlin looking up at the two of you, you look down at your baby and point to her Mama. The little one begins to wave at Caitlin with a big smile. Caitlin smiles and blows her a kiss.

Caitlin begins to lock in to the game and wipes her shoes. She gives one final glance over to you and thinks, 'Ya, I can get used to this'.

AN: A little different but I really like how this turned out! I hope you do as well. And as always, thank you for your love and support 🤍

#caitlin clark #caitlin clark imagine #caitlin clark x reader #caitlin clark masterlist #wnba

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ssparksflyy · 2 days

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what's he got that i don't? 𝜗𝜚 ⊹ ‧₊˚

pairing percy jackson x fem!reader summary based off this request!! an i actually love this request sm 😋 in jealous percy we trust

PERCY sighed dramatically as he plopped himself down on his bed, scooting up to put his head in your lap. he'd just gotten back from a meeting with chiron about helping out with teaching new campers how to handle swords and was quite frankly, exhausted. he'd spent his whole day running around, going from lesson to lesson, already helping out with all sorts of things. he hadn't seen you since breakfast and desperately needed to feel you close after his hectic day. walking into his cabin to see you sitting in his bed reading made him feel like maybe the gods didn't hate him and they knew how to answer his prayers after all.

"long day?" you asked, moving one of your hands down to his hair and ran your fingers through it while the other continued to hold up your book.

"mhm" he hummed in response.

"what'd you do?" you followed up.

"teach, teach some more, help out, then go teach again" he said, "i didn't even ask to be a teacher."

"you didn't ask for a lot of things, just another thing to add to the list babe. im sure the kids who need help greatly appreciate you and your teaching"

"i guess"

you sat in silence for a minute, continuing to play with percy's hair and read. he would've been fine staying like that and maybe even wouldve ended up falling asleep in your lap, but he had hardly spent any time with you today. he wanted to talk to you more and kiss your lips and hug you, but your nose was stuck in that stupid book he didn't even understand.

"whatcha reading?" he asked and lifted his head up, moving it to rest his chin on your stomach.

"the hunger games" you replied.

he mumbled a quick 'okay' and kept his head on your stomach, looking up at you and watching as you read.

as much as percy loved quiet moments like this, it was the opposite of what he wanted. he knew you enjoyed reading, and now was one of the few opportunities you got to read in peace, but he hadn't seen you in hours and (even though he wouldnt admit it) was in desperate need for your attention. when he saw you smile at something in your book, he decided to try for a conversation again.

"whatcha smilin' at?"

you looked away from your book, "nothin. just this guy."

he got up and furrowed his brow, "what guy?"

"he's not real, percy."

"don't matter, what guy is making my girl smile like that?"

you rolled your eyes, "a guy made of ink and imaginations. that's who."

"lemme see" he said, holding out his hand for you to hand him the book.

you handed him the book and watched as he squinted his eyes, trying to read it.

"i can't read."

"i know."

"what's it say?"

he handed you the book back, ""i don’t think it’s going to work out. winning . . . won’t help in my case," says peeta. "why ever not?" says caesar, mystified. peeta blushes beet red and stammers out. "because . . .because . . . she came here with me.""

percy pauses for a second. "you were smiling at that? what does it even mean?"

"see! you dont get it, it's nothing." you said, trying to brush it off.

"mmm i think its something" he said. he already had your attention away from reading your book, now it was just a matter of keeping it up.

"you wanna know? fine." you huffed, "im smiling because i remember when i read this for the first time and i was freaking out because katniss and peeta hardly even talk in this part of the book, and he just reveals that he's got a crush on her, but you don't know that he's actually faking it - but at the same time he's not - because it's set in katniss' perspective, so you're left all 'what was that?! what does he mean!!!' and it becomes something that peeta does again later cause he's smart and knows what cards to play in order for people to like him!!"

he looked at you in surprise, "oh- wow, sorry." he apologized, taking your hands in his, "so is peeta your favorite character?"

you knew you could just give him a simple yes and be over with the whole thing, but if he wanted the truth, then the truth is what he would get.

"yea, he really is. he's just the perfect guy" you said smugly, opening your book back up and pretending to start reading again.

"pfff- yea right! what happened to imaginations and ink?" he said. you could hear the slightest bit of jealousy in his voice and decided to keep going.

"doesnt take away the fact that he's perfect" you said as a mattter-of-factly.

"oh yea? well i think he's a fake nobody."

"fake nobody or not, he's still really smart, strong, an artist, a great baker, handsome in the movies-"

"josh hutcherson is not handsome."

"im gonna act like you didn't just say that." you said, realizing this was going the way you wanted it to, "but gods, did i mention how good of a boyfriend he is? i mean the way he cared for katniss?? hes literally everything a girl could ask fo-"

"hey you know im your boyfriend, not him, right?" percy asked, his tone sounding unsure and annoyed.

you stopped there and put your book down. you didn't think he'd actually be bothered by you talking about a fictional guy. he was never really the jealous type, had he actually taken it seriously?

"perce... are you.. jealous?" you asked in disbelief.

he gave you an offended look that you could tell was fake, "what?! no! course not! why would i be jealous of some fake baker dude??"

you couldnt help but laugh as he continued to try and defend himself from your 'wild' and 'indecorous' 'accusations'.

"i wasnt accusing you of anything! just asking!!" you said through your fit of giggles.

"yea you were! i feel very attacked right now, i though this was supposed to be a safe space!!" you only laughed more.

once you managed to get yourself to stop laughing, you moved closer to percy and pressed a kiss on his cheek. "i was just joking, you know that right?"

he mumbled a quick 'yea' while moving over to your side so he could put his arm around you and pull you into his chest. he left a kiss ontop of your head as you got comfortable in his embrace, putting your book on his nightstand.

percy had gotten his chance to talk to you, and now was able to hold you close, just like he wanted. yes it took listening to you ramble about some other (fake) guy, but who cares!! before finally closing his eyes and falling under hypnos' spell, he only had one more question about the book you were reading.

"by the way, who's finnick odair?"

"OHMYGOD, SO-"

#percy was in the wrong okay bye !!#percy jackson #pjo #percy jackson x reader #pjo x reader #percy jackson x you #by bells ♡⋆ ࣪.

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corollaservant · 1 day

Text

Night in the Net // Shigaraki x f! reader (18+)

⟡ Synopsis: You find yourself stranded in one hell of a sexist environment: the small town's internet café. Shigaraki's on the night shift. (3.6k)

⟡ Warnings: sex with Shiggy basically, mild degradation and misogyny from our fav incel, dom!Shiggy with a twist (no quirk obviously), use of “dollface” (i like it)

⟡ A/N: No dark themes here, peace n luv. Also..yeah he is always linked to some gaming/electronic business ik!! but I like the trope/hc/almost canon.

You'd never imagine this was how your night would end.

Why are you there again? Right, your friends wanted to go to that after party, as if the club wasn't enough. What was supposed to be a night out ended up with you in the local internet café (the only after hours spot) while your friends decided to go to a house party with loud techno music, which definitely wasn’t your vibe. You and your friends lived close and would often call a taxi on your way home, money wasn’t enough for you to ride solo today though—you prayed in times like these that you at least had a job; you wouldn’t have to rely on anyone then.

You knew pretty much everyone there, it’s not like the town had more than ten thousand residents and considering the age group and schools you’d all gone to, the internet café only had a few unknown members. On today’s shift was none other than Tomura of course, that guy was taking up as many shifts as his body would allow him to, apparently there was this rumor a family member was in crucial condition and they were in need. Tomura Shigaraki was one of these people you had branded as incel. Though hardworking (he kept a house of his own, cleaning and doing all chores by himself while providing for whomever he had), you still considered the guy as one. Now—you know the term is heavy, matter of fact, quite offending and serious as an allegation but it’s not like there weren’t rumors. Rumors he’d bash women and call them prostitutes, try to sleep with girls and trash them to his friends a day later, hating them for anything they did and claiming true love didn’t exist nowadays because “all women are sluts, who need money and validation.” Plus, he worked at the local internet café (should be enough reason), engaging in heated conversations with his friends and fellow streamers. God, one look in their chats and you'd get as violent as possible— (not much, you'd discovered it the hard way). Thus, it was no surprise that when you enter the place, you hear whispers and scoffs.

‘’The hell are you doing here?’’ A voice was heard from within, the café had the computer screens up front, a bar and a couch with TV in the back. Tomura was occupied in the designated bar the place had (you often wondered what kind of needs these people had—all they ever consumed was energy drinks and pre-packaged meals, takeouts were for reasons of competitive market prohibited). You take a deep breath.

‘’Just dropping by for a couple of hours, will leave soon.’’ You sigh as you take a seat on the couch, not bothering to talk to anyone, it wasn’t like they cared anyway. Loud noise and laughter can be heard all around, a couple of guys swearing and some younger boys excitedly standing above their screens. The store had a 16+ policy, but of course, no one ever checked so kids could practically stare unattended. Tomura also encouraged younger boys to play, such a piece of shit, you think, getting them to learn young.

‘’Oh my fucking God, a slut just joined!’’ You hear from the front, some guy swears, presumably because a girl had joined their online server. These guys were so disgusting, you cringe, it was no wonder they were celibate without wanting it. You stand up, you need to kill some time and you're feeling bored, you think about starting a fight with Tomura, how else could you have a little bit of fun?

You weren’t ever necessarily afraid of the guy, even though you have to admit, he looks intimidating. Quite tall with a pale complexion, ashy dull hair and scars across his face; no one actually knew much about him and whether he was troubled, it’s not like he ever showed to work beaten up or high and usually kept a low profile. The only frightening thing this man had was his smile, it terrified you sometimes as it looked downright evil.

‘’Getting them to learn young, huh?’’ You ask him, he’s washing up some cups from the previous round of gross gaming guys, who have now left.

‘’What?’’ He responds, not bothering to look up.

‘’How to not get women, I mean.’’ You sigh as he huffs in annoyance.

‘’You should be grateful I let a female in my store in the first place.’’ He retorts, but doesn’t seem very angry, just ironic. Usual.

My store (you decide to skip over 'female') sounds funny but you choose not to comment on it.

‘’So how long until you guys close?’’ You ask, not bothering to fight his vocabulary—it’s routine at this point. It also never ends well and you had a great night so far, why ruin it now?

‘’Two hours.’’

‘’Mind if I sit on the couch? I’ll be quiet I promise’’ You ask—technically beg, as you see no other options.

‘’Ugh.. yeah I mind. There’s some guys wanting to use it, I have a group for GTA on the PS5.’’

‘’Seriously? People still play that?’’ You whine but force yourself to continue.

‘’Can I sit with you then?’’ It takes strength—but you say it regardless. You came to terms with the fact he was your last resort minutes ago.

‘’Sure. But you need to make yourself useful. Here, take this.’’ He hands you a wet sponge, ‘’Wash these up—carefully, while I go clean the floors.’’ He orders, as if you’re part of the staff (and new on the job apparently.)

‘’Do you actually want me to wash freaking dishes? I just came here to chill, I don’t even bother anyone!’’ You start feeling annoyed with the chores, you aren’t 16 and he isn’t your mom.

‘’You can always leave.’’ He simply states, the running tap stops and he turns to you, practically shoving the wet gloves on your chest.

‘’Or...you can stop being a brat and be of use during your stay, I have two hours left.’’ He smiles, that same smile that makes your skin crawl and blood boil as he moves away.

‘’Fuck! My dress, you asshole!’’ A wet patch is now covering the too short dress as you glance at the time on your phone.

Two hours. Two hours until your friends leave and he closes up anyway.

Tomura was at least true to his words. Within two insufferable hours of having to listen to appalling conversations between men (hardly to be considered as such), plate washing and the toilet being constantly occupied, the last customers get up to leave.

You dry your hands and plop down the couch exhausted.

‘’Finally.’’ You exhale checking your phone, your friends hadn’t given you any life signs in the meantime, so you decide to patiently wait, they’d message eventually. Tomura is done sweeping the nasty floors from crumbs and dried Monster remnants, which he still has to mop (for the fourth time, you note and you've only been there some hours). You notice how restless he seems—the guy has been running the whole night after ignorant customers, who had not once shown basic respect for the order of the place yet never complained. Truly a shame he has such a misogynistic mindset, you think. He could get women, if he wanted to.

It’s around 6:30 AM, when he presses a button to close the store's roll-up shutters halfway. Small light outside makes its way in but the place is still relatively dark, as he places the mop near the wall and takes a seat next to you.

‘’Fuuck, I’m so tired.’’ He sighs, making sure to spread his legs on the couch as much as he can, not caring (of course) about you also sitting on it.

You always branded Tomura as an incel, that you knew about. But despite that, you now can’t help but feel for him, not knowing much about him at the same time. Sure, he technically isn’t the nicest guy but a look around would show you that he tries enough for a job kicking his ass. You find yourself sympathizing with a man, whose ideals you hate and try to brush these thoughts off.

‘’And why the fuck am I an incel anyway?’’ He asks, his head rests on the couch and his eyes are closed, he is scrunching severely—almost threatening to fall down. And he manspreads. A lot.

‘’W-well– I..’’ You never thought he’d caught on to that, stammering to stand your ground as you continue. ‘’Well, there have been rumors about you.’’ You say, but it doesn’t come off as confident as you’d hoped for. You also realize, it sounds kind of stupid.

‘’Reaaally? And you made sure to believe them, right?’’ His tone’s laced with irony but the way he talks—like he whispers in a raspy voice doesn't annoy you anymore. It makes you more... uncomfortable? On the edge? Excited?...what?

‘’It’s not like you don’t claim it yourself.’’ You retort, finally finding some courage. You notice him looking at you as you awkwardly shuffle in your seat.

‘’All I’ve ever said was that I think women are good for nothing. And I still believe that, but I wouldn’t waste more of my time on that.’’ The statement makes you roll your eyes.

‘’How can you generalize a whole group of people, who are literally in no way inferior to you, you can’t tell me you’ve tried—’’

‘’Listen dollface, unless you want to change my mind there’s no reason to fuss that much, my opinion won’t change.’’

Unless you want to change my mind?

‘’I-I don’t.’’ You stammer, because the answer and pet name (dollface??) takes you by surprise and he laughs.

‘’Relax, you branded me an incel.’’ he jokes, ‘’don’t want the rape allegations on me too.’’

The more he talks, the more your mind races and you curse yourself. He seems..funny? He has a mole under his lips—fuck, it looks cute...and he also looks good so (stupid as it was, yes!) you’d lie to yourself, if you say you don't want his attention. Why can’t he just look you in the eyes more?

This is so wrong. He must've noticed your lost gaze as he speaks up.

‘’Wanna watch a movie?’’ He proposes and you silently nod, anything is better than the silence hanging in the air. Silence you caused. For thinking... things about him.

Of course Tomura ends up choosing the most depressing film anyone can possibly watch in an internet café at 6 AM, Fallen Angels, and the dramatic cuts make it hard for you to concentrate. He at a certain point leans closer to you but you justify it, how else would he be able to see?

During this one scene, the woman pleasured herself with her legs closed, rubbing together and that’s when you felt a soft hand touch on your thigh. The dress you wore rode up, because your legs rested on the table ahead so it gave him the space he needed. The movement made you tingle and your core involuntarily contracted. The smooth fingers teasingly trailed up and down your leg, from your knees to your inner thighs. You didn’t want to look at him—he was too close and the scene seemed endless. But…he went on about it as if nothing was happening.

Without saying a word, he carried on. A pad of his finger tip was dangerously close to your now heated entrance, the images flashing before your eyes lewd, his hand tempting and threatening to reach your already soaked cunt—all this while the two of you hadn’t even shared a kiss. But he didn't stop, looking ahead and acting like everything’s fine, until he touched your lower lips and you hissed, his finger traced the wet spot over your underwear while you tried to move and speak up.

‘’W–what are y—’’

‘’Shh..’’ is all he says.

You want to tell him no. But no to what? You like the feeling of his two fingers against your folds. His palm moves your panties to the side and he stuffs them inside—they dampen from the fluids. How is he that quick? You can’t form a response but you’re about to ask him why—

‘’All that and I haven’t even kissed you.’’ He murmurs, gaze still fixated on the television ahead as you moan, when he slowly pumps them within your walls. Fuck, are you turned on by this?

‘’P-please..’’ You whisper, turning to look at him and for the first time, his eyes are removed from the stupid TV, a sly smile on his features as he tears away his hand.

‘’What is it? Want the incel to kiss you? Maybe even fuck you to prove a point?’’ He says and you frown.

‘’I—no, I have to go.’’ You get up, fixing (lowering) your dress—you have nowhere to go but you’ll figure it out eventually. You think staying longer only plays into his cruel intentions and whilst you can’t deny the pleasure he could give you, your pride’s in the way.

‘’You’re not going anywhere.’’ A wet hand clasps around your wrist and brings you on his lap, as he grins— you seem confused at the sensation. You are hiding the TV screen but he couldn't care less, he never paid attention to the movie.

‘’Feel the stain you left, too?’’ He says as he brings your face closer with the sticky palm grabbing you by the hair. You softly moan, noticing the small mole up close and feeling a bulge poke where your bodies meet. You sway your hips in a silent effort to have him initiate a kiss—you feel desperate and curse yourself again internally. He can only smile.

You were so clueless, prancing around in that slutty dress earlier—making him hard like that, did you even know it?

He’s quick to kiss you, eager for more already, as mouths clash, teeth collide, the need you both have for each other exceeds proper manners. You sloppily grind against him, the friction from a long outline beneath you makes it hard to think.

‘’I’m guessing, you’re really fucking the incel then.’’ He half smirks as he grabs you and repositions you to sit on his now fully hard cock that throbs in his pants; he lifts your dress above your ass and guides your hips sluggishly back and forth— he’s tormenting you and he enjoys it to the fullest.

‘’T-tomura..p-please.’’ You mewl, the urge to have him inside you makes you blabber.

‘’Please what?’’ He slides a hand behind your waist, lowering it to find your slit from behind, his fingers pet your cunt and you moan. Loudly. He is tugging at your panties, the fabric annoys him and he wants full access and the words. The words to prove his point.

‘’P–please.. fuck me already!’’ You breathe out and he groans to the sound of your voice.

The ironic remark he’d prepared evaporates as he quickly pushes you back, just enough to not fall off his lap and quickly unzips his pants, thanking God for not wearing a belt.

His pants and underwear are sloppily moved down his knees, as his cock jumps with a pop on his lower abdomen, stiff with a weeping tip. Pretty veins throb around it as your eyes widen.

Shit, he’s big, can you take him?

‘’I’d ask for a nice blowjob, dollface, but wouldn’t want the feminists after me.’’ He says as he brings you close, kissing you yet again, a string of spit runs down your jaw, as your hands roam his tangled, uncombed hair.

He positions you on his cock, one hand snakes around your waist while the other one clings to the back of your scalp and you’re swiftly lifted by the head and pushed down on him, as you let out a scream.

‘’Shut the fuck up.’’ He hisses, quickly looking around, the sensation from almost his whole length makes you tremble, he feels too full, too painful..too good.

‘’Shit, c’mon now you got this.’’ He encourages as you hesitantly move up and down his cock, gripping his shoulders and looking at him—he seems more concentrated on the sensation than your body, staring at you while you wrap around his length.

‘’Fuck..dollface, this too much for ya?’’ He tries not to grunt and you give your best not to cry, each moment that goes by turning the initial pain to pleasure—your cunt adjusts slowly and bit by bit to his girth.

‘’T-tomura.. y-yes..it’s too much!’’ You whine, sweat forms in your forehead as his hands find your swollen clit and circle it while your nails dig deeper in his shirt.

‘’You can take it.’’ He says, he feels your cunt squeezing him in, you bounce with dedication on his legs, making the couch squeak as if on some sex tape—you want to bring yourself even closer. So nasty, aren't you? Acting righteous, only to fuck yourself on his cock like a desperate whore.

‘’I-ugh-p-please..’’ You try to speak but he secures his hand around your torso and sinks (lower than before) down the couch. Two strong hands force you to stay still in the air while he drills himself into you at a steady pace—kind of sloppily too. Both of you moan, the position gives equal pleasure, your clit bumps on his groin and his cock reaches your g-spot with ease.

‘’S–Shit, you’re squeezing way too much, haven’t you been fucked like this before?’’ He sounds annoyed but the stammer in his voice betrays him.

Not like this, you want to say but can’t really speak the words. Your weight falls entirely on him, he doesn’t mind one bit—he loves it actually, this skin on skin contact as he guides you on his cock, it feels surreal. He hits soft and spongy spots inside while you slowly fall apart.

‘’T-Tomura right there..I ugh—I'm close!’’ The sensation overwhelms you, his eyes are still fixated on your face, yeah I can tell, he thinks. He gets off on your desperation, mouth parted all for him? Your eyes threaten to spill by the way he tears apart your cunt and your morals bit by bit.. it’s—

‘’Tomura, aren't you closing yet?’’ Someone asks from outside, interrupting the moment. The shutters only show a pair of shoes.

‘’Yeah, I’m on it.’’ Shigaraki stops composed, cockwarming you in a funny way, while a hand—his hand covers your mouth. Your eyes widen as slick trickles down his thighs in silence.

‘’Alright, see you then.’’ The man leaves and he cusses him out. (''Cunt.'')

‘’We’re not done.’’ He turns his attention back to you and seizes your face, bringing your mouth closer.

‘’Open up.’’ He orders and you do—clenching around him in anticipation.

He spits in it and closes the gap with his index finger.

‘’Swallow or I won’t continue.’’ You quickly gulp down.

‘’So obedient all of a sudden, aren't you?’’ Sarcasm laces the words as he gives your ass a solid hit, before starting to get back on his pace, only more rough this time, he longs for your release on him. You’re moving up and down his length, trying to grab anything accessible really, his hair, the back of the couch, under his shirt and you feel your orgasm resurface stronger—the delay has highlighted all of your senses.

‘’T-Tomura—’’ You shudder, as his cock hits your g-spot expertly–fuck, this guy wasn't some incel–and your swollen clit has to brush one last time past his groin before you feel an overwhelming orgasm take over. You clamp down his length and moan embarrassingly. (Fuck Tomura! I–I'm.. too good!) This time..he lets you, he needs to hear this.

‘’Fuuck—agh– look at you dollface.’’ He hums, a feminist creaming herself on my cock, he wants to add but it’s too many words and your orgasm has just coated his shaft so he wastes no time. He brings your neck close to his mouth and bites on it, teeth sink into your flesh and hands force you all the way down. He cums inside, groaning and trying to stifle his moans by biting down the sensitive skin even harder.

And fuck if that isn’t hot.

He keeps you on him, arms fastening your waist, cum dripping on his lowered pants but neither of you bother to care, ragged breaths and the sounds of the film still playing as more light enters through the rolled shutters.

God must’ve been on your side that day because a message appears on your screen moments after you both wordlessly got up and cleaned yourselves in the bathroom. Tomura would have to clean again, you think, as the message on your phone signals your time to leave.

You turn to look at him, he has removed his shirt and small nail scratches decorate his pale back and you..smile. What the hell? Was this..? Oh no—You try to find an appropriate goodbye.

See you soon? Thanks for the mind blowing dick? You aren’t the incel I thought you were? Everything seems embarrassing at present time.

‘’I-I’ll be seeing you soon.’’ You opt for that, stupid as it is, you still look at him in anticipation. He turns to you, hands on the mop cleaning near the couch and nods.

Great, you think, that was a disaster. You defeatedly walk (actually stoop to get past the almost closed door) feeling like a hooker after a client, miserable and kind of used. This is always the worst part.

You feel an arm touch your shoulder, you’ve only taken a few steps in the daylight.

‘’Take this in case you revoke your incel statement.’’

Tomura hands you a piece of paper and quickly disappears behind the store’s shadows.

#shigaraki x reader #shigaraki tomura #shigaraki x you #shigaraki smut #shigaraki tomura x reader #mha x reader #tenko x reader #shigaraki tomura smut #tomura x reader #tw degradation

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