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rynhaswritersblock · 4 years

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quaranteens (hc) | p.p.

summary: how you and petey boi spend your quarantine <3

i'm not even writing a warning for this one at this point y'all now how i write HAHA

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- covid-19

- coronavirus

- lil shitbag asshole virus

- Y'ALL KNOW THE DEAL

- it's QUARANTIME WITH Y/N AND PETER

- let's get it !

being quarantined with peter parker at avengers headquarters

- lots of animal crossing

- like lots

- you and peter visit each other's islands and it's SO FUNNY

- you keep BONKING each other on the head with your nets

- you shake a tree and a wasps nest falls out

- naturally you yell "SHIT" and steve yells "LANGUAGE"

- so you start fucking SPRINTING (in the game lmao) TO RUN AWAY FROM THE WASPS

- AND POOR PETER GETS STUCK IN THE MIDDLE OF IT

- AND THE WASPS START FOLLOWING HIM

- AND HE GETS BIT

- you start fucking WHEEZING

- you cannot breathe

- peter just sets the switch down and throws his head back, letting out an annoyed groan/yell

- "bitch ass motherfucker" he whispers as he picks the switch back up

- let's not forget to mention the fact that

- the entire time you and peter are playing

- the two of you are like intertwined

- most of the time your head is in his lap or vice versa

- like y'all get into the WEIRDEST POSITIONS on the couch

- sometimes steve or tony or nat or any of them really will walk by and be like "wtf... kinda cute doe"

- but it's so comfy!!!!!!

- and when y'all play at night it's of course in your rooms

- usually it'll start with the two of you separated

- and then one of you is usually like "why the fuck are we apart right now" and goes into the other's room

- then y'all will get all close to each other and play and there'll just be occasional giggling and tiny conversations and cussing here and there

- peter just starts to HARASS one of ur villagers

- you get a little upset but it's AL so you're like... lol not my problem

- one day peter shows you this tiktok where some couple was playing together and it was like "how me and my bf are spending quarantine apart"

- AND THEIR CHARACTERS ARE LIKE... FUCKING

- BUT ANIMAL CROSSING STYLE

- ANIMAL CROSSING: NEW HORIZONS. RATED E FOR EVERYONE!!!!!!!!

- but you and peter find it SO FUNNY

- SO NATURALLY

- you know what's coming

- YOU AND PETER COPY THEM

- irl the two of you are DYING in his bed

- like rolling all over the place because you're laughing so hard

- peter uses a popper as... you know... and you YELL CAUSE YOU LAUGHED SO HARD

- also it's 4 in the fucking morning

- MEANWHILE

- on the OTHER SIDE OF THE HALL

- sam is FED UP

- !!

- he's like what in the everloving HELL are they DOING!!!

- so

- the man enters the premises like

ಠಿ_ಠ

"what the hell are you two-"

"look!"

- you can barely get that word out because of your laughter

- but you hold up the switch

- sam watches and realizes RIGHT AS PETER USES ANOTHER POPPER

- HE SEES THAT YOU'RE LIKE LAYING DOWN ON THE BED AND HE'S STANDING IN FRONT OF YOU AT YOUR FEET

- the LOOK on his face

- he fucking smiles and buries his face in his hands, shaking his head

- when he finally composes himself his eyes are fucking

watering

"i might just have to get that game.."

- okay that's it for the animal crossing section of this imagine lol i'm obsessed with this game AND I DON'T EVEN HAVE IT

- I HAVE WATCHED FAR TOO MANY VIDEOS

- OKAY MOVING ON!!!!!!!!!!

- the AMOUNT of TV the two of you watch

- the two of you alternate shows you pick (so like peter chooses then you then peter etc etc)

- peter chooses b99 (bae)

- y'all finish that shit in a WEEK

- then you recommend euphoria

- he's like uh okay

- cause he knows how inappropriate that show is lol

- so every time there's a dick on the screen he covers your eyes

- and every time there's b00bies on the screen you cover his

- and some point he's like

"y/n you do realize that i've seen boobs before"

- you're like

- i mean yeah but i refuse to think about that because you're supposed to be innocent and pure and a puppy dsfjkdfnkj

- so you retort

"and you do realize that i've seen a dick before?"

- peter is the more jealous baby

- he pauses the show and shifts his body towards you

"wait, where?"

- you cringe

"some kid i'd just met sent me a dick pic.."

- peter's like okay convo over

- the two of you keep watching but now it's more uncomfortable

- at the end of the episode you were watching (imma say episode two lol)

- you bust out laughing

"you know the kid's dick was like... small, right? like i didn't enjoy receiving that picture? it was unsolicited, peter"

- he laughs lightly

"yeah, okay"

- you poke his cheek

"someone's jealous"

- he gasps

"i am NOT jealous!"

"you just don't like the fact that i've seen a dick"

"i guess, yeah"

"peter, i'm going to eventually"

- the poor kid is like we need to stop talking about penises right the fuck now

- SO YOU TWO KEEP WATCHING

- im so sorry for writing that part in haha it just came to mind and it's CONTENT you know and i really feel like it's a realistic convo to have in that situation

- the last episode makes you cry and you don't even realize you're crying until peter holds you closer and wipes the tear off your cheek

- bae

- let's just say the two of you finished euphoria in a day

- okay also

- DANCE PARTIES!!

- the amount of dance parties the two of you had... insurmountable

- like y'all would be training together and a bop would come on and you'd stop punching just to jump around and make complete fools of yourselves

- the two of you had to have a dance party after finishing euphoria because that shit put you in a FUNK

- but yeah

- dance!!!!!!!!!!!

- okay BAKING!!!!!

- y'all made so much food

- cookies

- cake

- pretzels

- brownies

- like

- never going hungry

- half the time the kitchen is a whole MESS but it's okay cause when you do clean it up you and peter throw bubbles at each other and it's great

- steve swears everyone is going to get so out of shape

- so he comes up with a system

- everyone gets snack time together and then thirty minutes later everyone goes and trains to make up for the extra calories

- and lemme just say

- the training sessions go HARD

- everyone is fucking sugar high it's the most chaotic thing ever

- music blaring

- sam and bucky are wrestling

- tony and steve are arguing in the corner (award for most calories burnt)

- nat and wanda are fighting bruce and pietro and nearly kill each other

- meanwhile you and petey boi are seeing who can do the most complicated gymnastics set

- as soon as the boy does a layout you're like okay BYE

- so yeah

- baking!!!!!!

- time for even more fluff

- cuddling

- oh

- my

- god

- you and peter LITERALLY NEVER LEAVE EACH OTHER

- the two of your are in physical contact 99% OF THE TIME

- and that's mainly peter's fault because he lowkey clingy but YOU LOVE IT

- the two of you build a fort in the commons and have movie marathons along with your tv marathons

- occasionally one or more of the team will come chill with y'all

- there's an overall "no judgment zone" that has been declared at headquarters

- aka mind ya own fucking business

- unless someone is literally in a deep state of depression then something needs to be done

- but like

- literally everyone notices how often the two of you are just intertwined with each other

- it's 🅱razy

- also y'all order tons of pizza

- like tons

- thankfully u and peter are like ayo fast metabolism check! (smh i wish lol once i quit soccer it really hit me OOPS)

- OH AND SCHOOL

- y'all are switched to online school

- you and peter-man get really competitive with it to see who can finish all their work the fastest

- thing is the two of you literally have pretty much identical schedules so you end up going at the same pace to work together

- maybe you help each other on quizzes and tests

- no one will ever know

- and overall you two are lowkey thriving in that department because you end up finishing your work for the week in like two or three days and have the rest of the time to just VIBE

- a/n y'all i seriously recommend actually doing that like i get a SUPER big workload at the beginning of the week and as soon as i can i just ZOOOOOM and try to get it all knocked out and it's honestly really helpful

- obviously this can be really difficult for people who aren't self motivated and maybe depressed but i would just try!! if you can!! okay note over BACK TO THE SHITS N GIGGLES

- so yeah

- i don't really have anything else to say but

- overall being quarantined with peter and the team is really nice and the vibes are THERE

- fuck i got another idea

- okay

- it's the middle of the night and you and peter are watching some movie that netflix autoplayed

- the two of you get a notification and look at your phones at the same time

UPDATE: Midtown School of Science and Technology has now been shut down for the rest of the 2019-2020 school year. Online school will continue.

- the two of you visibly shrink

- deadass

- like you just slump over and toss your phone

- you curl up into the boy and a tear rolls down your cheek cause it finally hits you

- this shit is real..

- you sniffle and peter immediately turns to you and wipes your cheek

"hey, it's okay. i'm here."

"i don't know, i just... miss everyone, i guess."

- he nods

- and then he kisses you

- oh so softly

- i'm here

- ...

- okay MOMENT OVER I CAN'T TAKE HOW SERIOUS THAT WAS

- BASICALLY AFTER THAT YOU TWO DON'T REALLY DECLARE ANYTHING BUT YOU DO SPEND A LOT OF QUARANTINE MAKING OUT.... OOPS

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thank u for reading loves

MWAH

#peter parker #tom holland #peter parker imagines #marvel #mcu #spiderman #peter parker x reader #spiderman x reader #fanfic #fluff #writing #peter #parker #thomas holland

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icyharrington · 5 years

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Is It Wrong?- Part 3 (Michael Langdon X Reader)

so i got a lot of requests for michael to be put in his place, and i just gotta say... that doesn’t exactly happen in this part lmao. it will definitely happen in a future part tho!! y’all also wanted jealous!michael, which i was glad to deliver!! i really hope y’all like this part. please reblog and leave comments if u do!!! :)

please check out my masterlist for part 1 and 2, since i’ve heard that including links in posts now fucks with the tags (i don’t know if this is true, but just to be safe i’m not gonna include links). lmao

plot: michael langdon is a picture-perfect fuckboy, and, lucky for you, he’s also your stepbrother. how will you survive?

warnings: inappropriate relationships, fuckboy michael, fem!Reader, high school au, underage drinking, smoking, jealous!michael, teen angst, public (ish) sex, fingering, choking, blowjobs/facefucking, rough sex, hair pulling, degradation, spanking (both traditional and non-traditional, if yanno what i mean...), dirty talk

word count: 7k

tags: @alicecooper19 @blackfyrez @bbyduncan @sloppy-little-witch-bitch26 @satansapostle @trelaney @tickled--pinkmoodpoisoning @alexa-is-on-fire @kissydevil @langdonalien @langdonsdemon @sloppy-wrist @wroteclassicaly @langdonsinferno @duncvn @langdonsrapture @ccodyfern @starwlkers @xtheinevitableprophecyx @americanhorrorstudies @sodanova @avesatanormalpeoplescareme @divinelangdon @sojournmichael @kahhlo

A month had passed since the… incident with Michael, and since that time, you’d transformed into somebody you hardly recognized.

You and Michael? Well, you and Michael had begun to get along quite well. Gone were the days of pointless arguing- if there was ever a problem, it usually wouldn’t be long before Michael’s dick was somewhere inside of you, and by the time you both were done, neither of you would have the energy to fight anymore. You still bickered, of course, and you both loved nothing more than to get on each other’s nerves, but the initial hatred you’d harbored towards your stepbrother was now, for the most part, gone.

The change was obvious and palpable. Sometimes you were surprised that your parents hadn’t caught on to something going on between you and Michael, but you figured they were just happy you were both coexisting. We’re finally like a family, your father had said, beaming, when you and Michael had shared a blanket during family movie night.

You’d exchanged a look with Michael, uncomfortable giggles passing both of your lips. If only your father had known where Michael’s hand had been placed, right that very minute, underneath the blanket.

You supposed that what he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.

In the mornings, Michael would drive you to school without complaint. You suspected this was because of the opportunities for quick car… activities: on several occasions, he’d fingered you on the short drive to school, testing himself to see how quickly he could bring you to an orgasm, your hands clamped around his forearm as his fingers moved between your thighs, tinted lens-covered eyes focused on the road.

That boy was always in the mood, you’d come to realize.

On this particular day, Michael seemed to be more in the mood than usual; he’d given your ass a particularly hard slap as you passed him in the hallway that morning, a cocky grin crossing his face when you’d told him, only half-seriously, to fuck off.

God, this was fucking ridiculous. You knew this was ridiculous, that this was wrong, that you should feel unclean, dirty, every time you let him touch you. It made complete sense, logically, for you to cut things off with him.

Besides the glaringly obvious fact that he was your stepbrother, he was also a total douchebag, a fuckboy, a player. He’d been balls deep in at least a quarter of your grade at some point or another. He objectified you- you (admittedly fondly) recalled a time he’d pushed you up against the sink one morning, snaking those big hands up your pajama shirt to grab a fistful of your tits before walking off like nothing had happened.

And, like the fucking idiot you were, you’d been left in a state of absolute, pathetic euphoria, your cheeks flushed and heart pounding, teeth sinking into your lower lip like a pornstar.

Sometimes you really hated yourself.

Scratch that, you hated yourself a lot more than sometimes.

When you’d finally come downstairs for breakfast, dressed in your usual jeans and sweater, you’d noticed Michael’s gaze lingering on the curves of your thighs, prominent through the form-fitting denim material. Had he always checked you out like this?

“You need a ride to school today?” Michael asked, shoveling a spoonful of your favorite cereal into his mouth. You pursed your lips disapprovingly, but decided not to mention it.

“Yeah, thanks.”

Miriam seemed pleased with this exchange, shuffling over to where Michael sat and ruffling his hair affectionately, much to his obvious dismay. “I love seeing you two finally getting along. See, isn’t it so much better being nice to your sister?”

Michael raised an eyebrow at you, hands lifting to adjust his hair back to how it’d been before Miriam touched it. “Yeah, it really is. Right, sis?”

You cut your eyes at him, leaning your elbows on the counter and checking the time on your phone. “We’re gonna be late, bro.”

Michael stood up, again leaving his bowl on the table like the entitled, spoiled brat he was. He looked good, with black jeans and his favorite, faded pair of Doc Martens, paired with a white t-shirt and his beloved leather jacket. Lately he’d been letting his hair grow out, and his soft curls were nearly reaching his shoulders now.

When you noticed the chain that he’d attached to his belt loops, you snorted.

“Nice chain. Good luck on your Hot Topic interview.”

He looked down at the silver appendage, leveling it idly with one hand before looking back to you. “You don’t like it?”

“I’m not saying I don’t like it, I’m just saying you look like you’re about to pull up to a My Chemical Romance concert circa 2008. All you need is some eyeliner.”

He walked past you to the front door, seemingly unaffected by your comment. “Honestly, eyeliner doesn’t sound like a bad idea.”

You followed behind him until both of you were outside. It was almost admirable how little Michael cared of what other people thought of him; his confidence was probably why he was so popular, even though he didn’t necessarily fit in with the frat-boy-to-bes who were usually at the top of the high school food chain.

“So,” he said as you walked side-by-side to his car, giving you that familiar look that you knew so well. You swallowed, knowing fully well how little self-control you had when it came to Michael.

“I was thinking, maybe we should ditch first period today.”

You huffed, pretending to be opposed to this idea, even though you willingly went along with nearly anything Michael suggested no matter what it was. You got in the car, inhaling that telltale mixture of cologne and cigarettes and fast-food grease, getting yourself comfortable before answering.

“Michael, I can’t miss math again. I’ve already missed three times in two weeks.”

“So what’s one more time?” He ran his fingers through his hair before turning the key in ignition, the golden morning sun hitting his angelic features just right. Your mouth watered, and all at once your will dissolved into nothingness.

“I really hate you.”

He looked at you from the corners of his eyes with a smirk, pulling his sunglasses off the front of his shirt and putting them on.

“Fine.”

ii.

This is why I can’t fucking resist him, you thought, breath slow and heavy as Michael laid kiss after sloppy kiss across your collarbones, hand placed firmly between your thighs.

Michael had put in his favorite Pink Floyd CD once you’d arrived at the abandoned parking lot (the same one that his creepy friend had taken you to- apparently it was a popular place for teenagers to fuck). You’d both sat there for a bit, making small talk and sharing a joint that he’d pre-rolled, knowing fully well what you’d both come there to do.

I kind of wanna stretch my legs out, he’d finally said, voice low, the baby blue of his eyes accentuated by the red tinge surrounding his irises. Why don’t we go in the back?

Leave it to Michael to get straight to the action.

He’d gotten you undressed in a matter of minutes- your jeans and boots were discarded on the already cluttered floor of the car, leaving you in nothing but your sweater, socks, and pale blue underwear. He’d looked unbelievably sexy, lips red and glossed with spit, when he’d drawn back to pull off his jacket, eyes clouded with a voracious, possessive lust.

Part of you wondered how many other girls had seen him in that exact state.

The thought dissipated, however, when he’d pushed aside the thin fabric of your underwear and promptly slipped two long fingers inside you.

“Always so fucking wet for me,” he’d murmured, playing with the hem of your sweater before pulling it off over your head. The warmth of his breath against your neck and the lewdness of his raspy words may as well have made you melt into a puddle right then.

Who’s gonna show this stranger around?

Ooh, I need a dirty woman

Ooh, I need a dirty girl

Michael’s fingers seemed to match the beat of the song playing, thumb flicking at your clit as he sucked a trail of bruises across your heaving chest, marking you, claiming you. You moaned, rolling your hips against his, feeling his hard length pressing into your thigh through the tough material of his jeans; you reached between his legs and squeezed it, making him chuckle against you, and he brought his head up to face you.

“And you’re always so eager,” he said, retreating back onto his knees. Then he slid your underwear off and tossed it amongst the rest of the clothes that had piled up, hands flying to unzip his pants once you’d been disrobed. “My baby sister is such a bad girl for me.”

You considered reminding him that he was only a month older than you, and that you were hardly a baby, but you didn’t have time to correct him before he pulled his pants and boxers halfway down his thighs, allowing his erection to spring forward.

Your legs spread instinctively for him, and he inched towards you, positioning himself on top of you while your back rested partially against the door. He aligned the head of his cock with your opening and you sighed, reaching up his shirt from behind and pressing your fingernails into the smooth skin of his back.

“Fuck,” he grunted, eyelids fluttering as he pushed inside your tight heat, your narrow walls swallowing him up. Wrapping your legs around his waist to pull him in closer, you moaned softly, heart rate increasing when he began to thrust slowly, but with just enough force to make your legs feel weak.

Every time he fucked you was like the first time; he was huge, and you weren’t sure you’d ever get used to the feeling of him stretching you out. You loved the pain, though, loved the way you couldn’t walk right when he was finished with you, even when he went as gently as he could; you liked the bruises, the scratches, the indents of his short fingernails where they’d dug into your skin.

“Michael,” you sighed, bucking your hips up to meet his rhythmic thrusts, both your sounds of pleasure becoming diluted by the drums and guitar and keyboard blaring from the stereo.

He buried his head in the crook of your neck, and you were sure he could taste the salt of your sweat, his tongue darting out to trail along your skin as he fucked into you.

You were stricken with ecstasy, shivering when Michael’s firm torso made friction on your clit, and you brought one hand up to run through his sweat-dampened golden waves.

“H-harder,” you choked out, and he sank his teeth into your shoulder before mumbling a half-hearted response to your plea.

“You want me to fuck you harder, baby? Wanna feel me for the rest of the day?”

“Mhm.” You gave his hair an urgent tug, and again he tilted his head up to look at you, his eyes so dilated they almost appeared entirely black. Placing one hand loosely around your throat, just like he knew you liked, he pulled himself all the way out of you; there was a vulgar slapping noise as he gave a hard, pointed shove of his hips, impaling you to the hilt, and you cried out at the fullness.

“Fuck, you take me so well,” he praised, eyes locked with yours while he pounded you into the leather seat, hard enough to bruise. His grip tightened around your neck as he came closer to his release, forehead slick with perspiration, perfect mouth agape.

This was everything, everything you thought about, everything you wanted: moments like this, your bodies pressed flush together, moving in perfect time. You caressed Michael’s hair so softly, one might mistake it as a loving touch, your other hand making shallow scratches up and down the expanse of skin beside his spine.

Your cunt clenched around him and you were almost there, his thrusts becoming sloppier with each passing second; there was a moment of silence, amplifying the raw sounds of sex as the song came to an end; that silence was followed by a quiet whirring, and then another song came on, psychedelic chords flooding your senses along with- fuck-

The head of Michael’s cock hit something sensitive deep inside of you, sending your lower body into convulsions, and you were sure your fingernails were drawing blood now, clawing onto Michael for dear life.

oh god-

-your thoughts weren’t coherent anymore, and then you were crying out, Michael’s cock working you open like your fingers never could, head lolling back and nearly colliding with the window, and-

“Oh god- oh fuck-“

The pads of Michael’s fingers pressed harshly into your throat, his eyes half-open in pure, fucked-out bliss, while yours rolled back into your head. It took only a few more strokes for you to cum, and then Michael was too, and you were glad you’d went on birth control for your period cramps when you were sixteen because holy shit did it feel good when he spilled his hot load inside you.

He pulled out of you, admiring the sight of his cum leaking down your inner thighs; he slid one finger up between your folds, gathering the sticky secretion and rubbing it against your pulsing clit, a self-satisfied expression crossing his face when your body twitched at the sensation.

“Ew, Michael,” you said, wrinkling your nose. He was so fucking smug every time he came inside of you, like he’d just marked his territory.

He just laughed at your reaction, moving back to pull his pants back up and refasten his jeans, reaching into the back pocket to pull out his package of cigarettes once he was finished re-dressing.

“Don’t wanna go back to school,” he grunted, retrieving a cigarette from the pack and sticking it between his teeth.

“How come? All your adoring fans are there,” you said, having found yourself in a sarcastic mood. You put your underwear back on, followed by your sweater; you decided you’d wait until later to put on your jeans, given the limited amount of space you had right now.

“I like you so much better when I’m inside you,” he said, picking up a lighter from the floor of the car and lighting his cigarette. “You’re too busy moaning my name to give me any attitude.”

You narrowed your eyes, but you were too exhausted to come up with a biting response. “Fuck you.”

“Just did.”

A trail of pale gray smoke wafted in your direction and you waved it away, coughing dramatically for good measure. “You know you can open the windows, right?”

“You know it’s my car so I can do whatever I want, right?” He took a drag of his cigarette and blew the smoke directly in your face, eating up your resulting look of disgust.

Some things would never change, and no matter how many times you let him fuck you raw, no matter how many times you brought each other to orgasm, you doubted the stepsibling rivalry would ever completely fade.

From the front seat, Michael’s phone vibrated, and he cursed under his breath as he grabbed for it.

“Hey, man,” he said once he’d accepted the call, resting his elbow against the window, flicking ash carelessly onto the floor of the car. The worry that it’d been Miriam calling to inquire about your whereabouts disappeared, and you reclined back against the seat.

“Uh, yeah, I skipped first period.” He shot you a warning look, indicating for you to stay silent, and you rolled your eyes. “Yeah, uh, I’m picking up some shit for tomorrow.”

He sucked at the end of his cigarette, waiting for a response from his friend, while you picked your jeans up and put them on, struggling slightly as you attempted to get them on in a sitting position.

“No, I told you I can’t steal my stepdad’s shit anymore. My dumb fucking stepsister ratted me out and now he has a lock on the cabinet,” he said into the phone, shooting you a contemptuous scowl from the corner of his eye.

You batted your eyelashes innocently as you worked the tight denim up your legs; you were still proud of yourself for that one.

“Yeah, I’m picking up a few cases of beer. I- yeah.” Long pause. He flicked away some more ash, this time onto the seat, and you could see an orange ember still glowing in one of the tiny piles that had landed beside you. You wriggled your hips, finally getting the waistband of your jeans up and securing the silver button in its place. “Fuck no, dude, I’m not buying any of that 4 Loko shit. You remember what happened last time?”

Another pause. You were somewhat intrigued now, and Michael could tell; he held up his hand, dwindling cigarette poised between two fingers, waving you away with an obnoxious flourish.

“Yeah, man. I’ll see you in gym, dude-“ you could hear his friend speaking on the other end of the line, and Michael laughed at whatever he’d said. “Yeah, dude, those gym shorts Zoe Benson wears shouldn’t be allowed. I don’t know how anyone expects us to focus on fuckin’ volleyball with her ass hanging out like that.”

More laughing.

“You’re such an asshole,” you muttered, and Michael held a slender finger up to his lips.

“Yep. Bye, man.” He pressed his thumb into the “end call” button, before putting his cigarette out on the door and turning to you. “C’mon, we gotta go pick some shit up.”

You grabbed your boots from the floor and pulled them on. “For what?”

“None of your business.” He slung his leather jacket over one shoulder and got out of the car, the rubber soles of his combat boots slapping noisily against the asphalt as he walked around to the driver’s side.

You followed suit, hoping Michael couldn’t see how difficult it was for you to walk as you made your way to the passenger’s side and got into the car.

“C’mon, just tell me,” you said with a pout; in all honesty, you were fairly certain of what Michael’s plans were- he did the same thing nearly every single weekend, house party-hopping with his friends until he came home past 2 am, stumbling by your bedroom with absolutely no attempt at discretion.

The difference now, though, was that you kind of sort of wanted him to invite you to come with him for once. You were a senior in high school, after all, and you’d never even once been to a high school party. So sue you for being curious!

“If you must know,” he said, putting the car into drive, “it’s for a party. You don’t go to those.”

“You don’t know that,” you snapped, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Uh, I kinda do. I’ve never once seen you at a party. And I go to a lot of them.”

Wow, Michael, you’re sooo cool, you thought bitterly.

You had to admit, though, he was right.

He noticed the look on your face and snickered, perhaps a bit too condescendingly for your liking. “Aww, what, does my baby sister want her big brother to take her to her first high school party?”

Your skin prickled, and you looked out the window to avoid his piercing stare. You couldn’t believe the number of times you’d allowed this total douchebag to cum inside you. Even worse, you couldn’t believe that you were definitely going to let him do it again. “I wouldn’t be caught dead at a party with you,” you managed through clenched teeth, thoroughly embarrassed.

“Yeah, I know you wouldn’t.”

He pulled out of the parking lot and onto the road, starting in the direction of the local gas station which was infamous for not carding underaged kids when they went to buy alcohol.

Fuck it. If he wasn’t going to invite you to come, you’d find your own way.

iii.

Later that day, you’d asked your slightly-more-social acquaintance for a ride to the party that weekend, since your former best friend was no longer an option. She’d agreed, and you were surprised at how easy it’d been to get an ‘in’ on the high school social scene without Michael’s assistance.

You couldn’t wait to see the look on his face when you walked into the party.

You’d searched through your drawers and in your closet for something cute (and also enticing enough to catch Michael’s attention, although you’d never say that outright) to wear; eventually you’d found a little red tank top, which your best friend had always said made your tits look good, and a pair of high-waisted jeans that you’d always thought made your butt look bigger.

Turning around in the mirror, observing your exposed midriff and pronounced chest and round ass, you had to admit you felt positively mouthwatering.

On the night of the party, your acquaintance arranged to pick you up at ten, which was perfect, since Michael had headed out at 9:30. You wanted this to be a surprise, and so a fashionably-late entrance was ideal.

You got yourself ready, straightening your hair and dousing yourself in perfume with hints of cinnamon (Michael’s favorite scent, although you swore to yourself you hadn’t done this on purpose). You smudged black eyeliner under your eyes, hoping this would make you look sexy and not like a raccoon, and put on a red lipstick that you only ever wore on special occasions.

Seeing yourself like this made you wonder why you didn’t dress up more often.

Before your ride came, you found your father’s key to the liquor cabinet (just as you’d expected, he’d hidden it inside one of his steel-toed work boots, which collected dust by the front door all year long while he continued to insist that he needed them for an upcoming ‘project’, whatever that meant) and unlocked it.

With shaking hands, you’d poured yourself a few shots, holding your nose each time you threw one back, throat burning and body shuddering at the awful flavor that you figured was probably what gasoline tasted like.

By the time you got the text from your acquaintance, alerting you that she was outside, you were decently drunk. Your thoughts were clouded with a thick fog and your cheeks were hot, but you liked it, liked the way your insides felt warm and uplifted, the way your mind felt numb; holding your hand against the wall to steady yourself as you walked to the front door, you attempted to mentally prepare yourself for the night to come.

You didn’t think you’d ever been so ready for something in your life.

iv.

In less than an hour, the party had gone from decent to good to great.

You knew the girl who was throwing the party, albeit very vaguely; you’d spoken a couple of times to her about school-related things, and she’d been nice enough. From what you’d heard, her parents had gone out of town for the weekend, and she’d taken full advantage of the opportunity.

It reminded you of when Miriam and your father had gone off on their honeymoon in July, and Michael had taken it upon himself to throw 3 consecutive keg parties in your fucking house. Well, technically, your backyard. But still. You’d stayed up in your room those nights, kept awake by the thumping bass coming from outside, ranting to your (ex) best friend over FaceTime about how goddamn much you hated the newest addition to your family.

And, of course, she’d gone and fucked him.

Could you really judge her, though? You were fucking him now, too, and you had infinitely more reasons than she did not to fuck him.

But that was besides the point.

The small group of girls who’d been in the car when you were picked up immediately dispersed upon arrival, leaving you to your own devices; already intoxicated, you’d begun your search for Michael in the crowd of drunken teenagers, keeping an eye out for that impeccable, lush mop of blonde hair.

You didn’t know what you were planning to do once you saw him. You couldn’t approach him, especially not if he was with his friends, but you wanted him to see you in all your glory, wanted him to see that hey, look, I can go to parties too if I want, and I don’t need you.

Michael, however, found you first.

It was much later (though you couldn’t be quite sure how much later), after you’d given up on your search, opting instead to talk to a cute boy who you thought looked very similar to one of Michael’s friends.

Honestly, it probably was one of Michael’s friends- at this point, you were too drunk to tell, having indulged in one or two (okay, more like three or four) more shots during the time you’d spent weaving through the party.

You were in the middle of telling the boy exactly how you knew that Chuck E Cheese recycled their pizza slices when a thick, slurred voice interrupted you.

“(Y/n)?”

You turned, eyes heavy-lidded, a stupid, sloppy smile plastered across your made-up face.

That smile only slightly faltered when you saw who had spoken. It was Michael (because who else would it be?), looking stupidly beautiful like he always did, face twisted up into something you couldn’t quite decipher- maybe you were too drunk to tell, or maybe he was too drunk to properly convey his emotions; either way, you were unsure of what he was planning to say to you.

“Who did you come here with?” he asked. He was practically yelling, struggling to be heard over the shouts of teenagers and blasting rap music.

“Wouldn’t you-“ you hiccuped- “like to know?”

His line of sight suddenly dropped down to your chest, and then to your hips, and then back to your eyes, and you were 99.9 percent sure you’d just witnessed his eyes nearly bulging out of his head.

When he realized you’d noticed him looking, he made an attempt to save himself. “Huh. Looks like you actually put effort into looking good for once.”

You probably would’ve been offended at this comment, had you not been multiple shots deep.

“You think I look good?” you purred, rocking back and forth on your heels like a spoiled little girl asking for her father for a pony.

He ignored your question, focusing his attention now on the boy you’d been talking to.

“There you are, dude, we were wondering where you went.” He poised an eyebrow, not bothering to conceal his confusion with the situation at hand, which was, of course, the fact that you were mid-conversation with one of his friends. “So, um... whatcha doing?”

He dug his hands into the pockets of his jeans, a venomous smile stretching across his full lips. He wasn’t happy, that much you could tell.

The boy let out an oblivious chuckle. “Your sister was just telling me about- what was it, (y/n)?”

“Chuck E Cheese,” you said quietly, probably too quietly for Michael to hear. Not that you really believed Michael cared much about what you’d been talking about.

“Right- well, did you know that there’s like, a conspiracy, I guess? That they-“

“-Don’t fuck around with my sister, okay?” Michael interjected, his tone firm and unyielding, and you felt your face bloom with color. “It’s my fucking sister, man. I would back off if I were you.”

All at once, the boy’s smile faded, as did yours. So apparently Michael was an aggressive drunk. Noted.

“Michael, I can talk to whoever I want and there’s nothing-“ you jabbed your finger at Michael’s chest, giggling uncontrollably at the resistance of the muscular surface. “-you can do about it. So suck. My. Dick.”

The muscles in Michael’s face tightened, and you got the smallest urge to run your tongue along the sharp, angular stretch of his clenched jawline. Of course, you refrained.

“I would’ve thought you learned not to run around with my friends after the first time, but I guess I was wrong,” he said with a shrug that you could tell was meant to make him appear indifferent to the matter; it didn’t take a psychologist to tell, though, that he cared far more than you knew he’d ever admit.

“Yeah, I guess you were,” you slurred, spinning around to take hold of your new friend’s hand. “C’mon, let’s go.”

Without another word to Michael, you walked away, your new friend allowing you to guide him as you searched for somewhere else to go. Swaying your hips with each step, you hoped Michael was getting a good eyeful of your ass in those skintight jeans of yours.

God, it was like a natural high whenever you got under Michael’s skin, and right now, you were over the moon.

You should’ve known that things would end up like this, because your life was one massive cacophony of clichés and this was just the way things played out in every single teen sitcom.

It felt disrespectful, somehow, being pushed up against the wall of a total stranger’s bedroom, your tongue tangling with some kid you hardly knew, the taste of liquor ripe on the back of your throat.

It felt even more disrespectful when you sat him down on the edge of the bed, sinking onto your knees so you were between his jean-clad thighs, and it felt downright indecorous when you unzipped his pants to pull his cock out of his boxers.

You shut your eyes to avoid accidentally making eye contact with any of the pictures adorning the wall, especially the family photo enclosed within a picture frame that had Family Is Everything written across the bottom in hot pink script.

What the fuck were you doing?

Taking the boy’s cock in your hand, you applied a few thoughtless licks to the head of his dick, his sighs audible even over the muffled music that spilled into the room underneath the closed door. You bobbed your head down, taking him into your mouth, his fingers gently lacing with your hair as you dipped further.

With your eyes closed, you could almost pretend that it was Michael’s dick in your mouth, and not one of his not-as-cute friend’s.

“Fuck yeah, baby,” moaned the boy, and you cringed at his dirty talk; still, you took more of him into your mouth, pressing your tongue flat against his shaft, wishing he’d put more pressure on the back of your head with his palm like Michael always did.

Fuck Michael Langdon, fuck the way you wanted him even when he was a total asshole to you, and fuck the fact that he was on your mind, nonstop, even when you had another guy’s dick in your goddamn mouth.

You brought your hand away from the boy’s shaft and instead placed it on his thigh, pushing your head down until you were gagging around him, nose nearly reaching his balls. The boy gasped, inadvertently lifting his hips and shoving himself deeper in your mouth, and you sputtered.

From out in the hallway, you heard someone talking about finding the bathroom, the voice growing louder and louder until the mystery speaker was directly outside the bedroom; it didn’t occur to you to be concerned, or at least not until it was far too late and the door had already swung open, and you heard two startled shouts- one from the boy you’d been sucking off, and one from the person who’d just barged in.

“Michael-“ exclaimed the boy, and it was then that you realized how truly fucked you were.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Michael said, and you felt a hand entangle with your hair to yank you back, painfully, so you were sprawled on your ass.

You looked up at your stepbrother, his nostrils flaring in that way that only happened when he was pissed, and silently you scolded yourself for thinking that he looked hot like this.

“Didn’t I tell you not to fuck with my sister?” he continued, grabbing his friend by the front of his shirt and jerking him to his feet. The boy looked positively terrified, lower lip trembling as Michael whirled him around and sent him catapulting out into the hallway.

“You ever touch her again and I’ll snap your fucking neck,” he yelled after him, sounding so dead serious that you thought it’d be foolish not to believe his threat.

Now it was just the two of you, and honestly, you were pretty fucking scared (though why, oh why, did you also feel something like excitement building up in your belly?). Michael slammed the door shut before coming to tower over you; you scrambled back, moving to stand up, but he stopped you.

“No. You stay down there,” he spat, voice laden with disgust. “Who knew you were such a little slut? If you wanted something to suck on, (y/n), you could’ve just asked me.”

“Mi-Michael, I-“

“-Shut the fuck up.” He reached down to take a fistful of your hair in his hand, using it to bring you roughly to your knees.

Why the fuck was this happening? And why the fuck were you so completely turned on?

“If cock in your mouth is what you wanted, then that’s exactly what you’re going to get,” he said, unzipping his pants and retrieving himself from the confines of his boxers; he was already hard, his cock springing forward so suddenly it almost hit you across the face, and you flinched.

“Aww, what’s the matter? I thought you liked having cock in your face,” he taunted, taking his thick shaft in hand and slapping you across the cheek with it. He did this a few more times until the side of your face was stinging, sadistic laughter bubbling past his lips each time you squeezed your eyes shut in utter humiliation and arousal.

When he grew bored of this, he reached down and manually unhinged your jaw, wasting no time before pushing himself into your mouth, brushing the back of your throat with his first thrust.

You gagged, drool already seeping from the corners of your lips, balling your hands into fists at your sides as you allowed your stepbrother to mercilessly use you.

He snapped his hips forward, his cock so deep in your throat that you were now face-to-face with the soft curls surrounding his pelvis.

“I bet he didn’t fuck your face like this,” he said between pants, holding your face against his balls before pulling out and fucking back into your hot mouth. “Bet he didn’t show you who you belong to like I do.”

You moaned around his stiff skin, sending vibrations up the length of his cock, and he cursed loudly; tears streamed down your face, no doubt ruining your makeup, but you were too far gone to care.

Michael pulled out of your swollen mouth, strings of saliva stretching and breaking between your mouth and his glistening cock. You took in a much-needed breath just as he took you by the front of your shirt and forced you to stand, groping your tits as he thrust you backwards onto the bed.

“Did you let him inside you?” he demanded, making quick work of removing your jeans and tossing them off the side of the bed.

“No, Michael, I swear-“

He cupped your pussy, making you squirm when he pressed two fingers against your clit through the thin material of your panties. “I better not find out that you’re lying.”

He pulled your underwear off and discarded it on the floor, leaning down to spit a thick wad of saliva onto your dripping cunt. You whimpered, wiggling slightly against the mattress, and in turn he pinned you down by your hips with a bruising hold.

“I’m gonna be as clear as I can be,” he said, flipping you onto your stomach and lifting you up by your waist so your ass was in the air. He wrapped a strand of your hair around his hand, tugging your head back, and you could feel his hard length pressing against your thigh as he brought his head down to whisper in your ear.

“This pussy?” He landed a painful slap on your cunt, and you jumped. “It belongs to me.”

You bit your lip at his words, ringing in your ears even after they’d left his mouth. He let your hair go, hooking his fingers around your cheek to push them inside your mouth, and obediently you opened up for him.

“And this pretty mouth?” He lined his cock up with your slit, pumping his fingers in and out of your gaping mouth, your eyes watering when he pushed them down on the back of your tongue. “It’s mine too.”

In one swift motion, he pushed all the way into you, not allowing you any time to adjust before he began hammering inside at a ruthless pace; you cried out, overtaken with the seamless blend of pain and pleasure that Michael had gotten you so accustomed to, more tears streaming down your cheeks and dropping onto the sheets below.

He pulled his fingers out from your mouth, using his hand instead to smack the rounded curve of your ass. You buried your face in the pillow, hoping you wouldn’t stain the case too badly with your smeared makeup, arching your back higher so you could feel every inch of Michael’s cock filling you up.

The vulgar, wet sounds of his cock slamming in and out of you were almost too much to bear, a mixture of your arousal and Michael’s spit dripping down your inner thighs in a crude display; Michael gripped your hips for leverage, undoubtedly forming five fingerprint-shaped bruises on your padded skin in the process.

“Oh fuck- Michael, please-“ It hurt, the way he was fucking you, but you would’ve sold your soul right then if it meant always being able to feel this intense, rapturous pleasure.

“Who do you belong to?” Michael barked, voice raspy, but still harsh enough to cut through your consciousness like a knife.

“Y-you, Michael, fuck,” you moaned, twisting the bedsheets in your hands until your knuckles turned white, eyes rolling back into your skull as Michael bottomed out inside you again and again and again.

For a moment, he steadied his thrusting so he could catch his breath, slowly pressing himself all the way inside so his balls rested against your ass.

“You- take me- so- well,” he said between sharp inhales, tracing one hand gingerly down the length of your spine. Your skin erupted with goosebumps at the tenderness of his touch, your hips grinding back to increase the stimulation.

It only took a few moments for Michael to recuperate himself, and once he had, he was back to his animalistic ways; behind you, you could hear him grunting, and you could only imagine how beautiful he looked back there in all his fucked-out bliss.

“I’m- I’m-“ you couldn’t get the words out, your walls clenching around him as you came unexpectedly, your juices dribbling down your inner thighs and all over Michael’s cock.

“Holy shit,” Michael laughed, coating his fingertips until they were slick with your essence and observing them in awe. You went to get up, but he turned you onto your back, kneeling over your shoulders and promptly inserting himself down your throat.

He groaned, releasing his thick, salty load in your mouth; he was so deep in your throat that you didn’t even have to swallow.

“Fuck,” Michael said, falling back to lie beside you. You were a mess, trails of mascara staining your cheeks and red lipstick smudged, and you had no idea how you were going to leave the room without someone wondering what the hell had happened to you.

You got into a cross-legged position; you definitely weren’t in any position to get up or walk anywhere at this point in time. “So were you actually pissed that I sucked your friend’s dick? Or was that just an excuse to throw me around and fuck my face?”

It was an earnest question that you genuinely didn’t know the answer to. Why did Michael care so much anyway? Especially considering the times he’d fucked your (ex) best friend?

“Little bit of both,” he said, hoisting up his hips so he could pull up his boxers and jeans. “Look. I- I may have overreacted just a little bit. I just don’t want my douchebag friends putting their hands on my sister, you know?”

You scoffed. “We both know you don’t consider me your sister.”

“Doesn’t matter. I just- I don’t know. Forget it.” He sat up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and rising to his feet. “I’m gonna go see if I can find makeup remover somewhere. You look like a fucking wreck.”

There was something about that statement that made your heart swell in your chest; Michael was actually doing something nice for you?

“Aww, really? Thanks, Michael,” you said with a smile.

He scrunched up his face. “Alright, calm down.”

He opened the door and disappeared into the hallway, leaving you half-naked and alone with your thoughts. You felt conflicted, like you always did after you spent time with Michael, but you couldn’t help but feel that there was something, deep down, inside the hardened, fucked-up heart of your stepbrother, that actually resembled something good.

Or maybe it was just the alcohol talking.

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