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#shuffle skating
bantuotaku · 5 months
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OMG, this needs to be in a music video...
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neptunite-stars · 1 year
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souma for @ophanem’s diner shuffle!
was thinking of a unit name for them and (with the help of a friend) came up with “Soda☆pop!” and maybe the event name would be like Vibrant Flavors → Colorful Start! or smth like that but anyway here u go :D
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fruitlicense · 2 years
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the difference between the comics Young Justice team and the TV Young Justice team is that comics YJ would not hesitate to jam to Love Shack by the B-52s, while TV YJ is too busy being emo to recognize that Love Shack is a bop
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ectonurites · 8 months
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ohoh was tagged by @carlsdraws for 10 songs + 10 people!
[Rules: Put your music on shuffle and list the first ten songs that come up, then tag ten people.]
Teenage Lobotomy — The Ramones
I Wanna Be Your Joey Ramone — Sleater-Kinney (ok REALLY funny that this came up directly following a Ramones song)
Spanish Bombs — The Clash
License to Confuse — Sebadoh
Blood One — Bikini Kill
I Don't Wanna Hear It — Minor Threat
Germfree Adolescence — X-Ray Spex
This Town Ain't Big Enough For Both of Us — Siouxie and the Banshees
Soup is Good Food — Dead Kennedys
Let You Go — Screaming Females
and lets see i will tag @emblazons @almondmilk-official @bonesofjelly @milfmarthawayne @lemontongues @scarletbirbs @heroesbyler @wheelersboy @nightowlfury @byler-alarmist and anyone else who sees this and wants to do it consider yourself tagged (but obviously no pressure though)!
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thesconesyard · 5 months
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The Cupid fucking Shuffle.
I couldn’t remember what the song we used to dance to when I worked at the rink was. I knew it wasn’t the Cha Cha Slide. I hate that one.
I dig out my old iPod, slapped it in to charge and went through all my artists on there trying to recognize it. Didn’t find it. Finally had to google “song like the cha cha slide.” Found it.
Also, probably in the next week going to have the most obnoxious Spotify playlist of all the old 2004-2012 songs we used to jam to at the rink. There was some dang good stuff on that iPod that I’ve forgotten about 🤣
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oetter · 7 months
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I’m big scared but 🫣 what about Antonio Stranges? Will he forever a Texas star?
i must admit i dont know him so this may not be very accurate but ill do my best!!
knight of pentacles reversed
six of pentacles reversed
strength
knight of p is saying he wants desperately to move up, or just for a change. he has a little too much ambition for his own good. he needs to slow down, focus on improvement. the thing with reversed cards is that the goal is to flip them over - with enough focus in the right direction, he can balance himself out and become reliable and hard-working, just on the right side of ambitious.
six of pentacles reversed builds upon that by saying he may be in over his head. he should be careful and mindful of what he’s doing so he doesn’t fall behind because of other people.
strength says he is entirely capable of all of this. too much ambition becomes motivation, mindfulness becomes focus becomes improvement. he’s already got the skill, he just needs to put it to use. it’s up to him where his career goes.
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snowshinobi · 2 months
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ice veins
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wolfofwestchester · 4 months
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livingemkayde · 4 months
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between blurred lines
best friend's dad!/dad's best friend!joel miller x f!reader
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(pre-outbreak)
↳ warnings: this is rated for 18+ only! minors, please do not interact. smut, unprotected pinv, fingering f! receiving, cockwarming (!?!?!?) uhh dom!joel, significant age gap, dad's best friend mixed with some best friends dad (?!!?!?!?). i think that's it, let me know if i forgot anything.
↳ a/n: I LOOK PRETTY GOOD FOR A DEAD BITCH (she's alive!). im back from my tumblr break bearing a gift! i missed you all like crazy. gonna spend finals week catching up (procrastinating) on all the reading ive missed out on for the last month. i hope you guys like this one.
AND a very special thanks to @joelsversion for beta reading this in it's very early rough, rough stages. my ride or die fr 🤞
↳ summary: joel miller has always been...there. never different, always sporting a brooding scowl etched into his handsome face. he's your best friend sarah miller's dad, arguably worse, your dad's long time buddy. things are never different. not until this summer. not until now.
↳ follow @livingemkaydenotifs if you would like to be notified about more fics like this. love ya'll big time
↳ if you would like to read more of mine: masterlist
“You shouldn’t be in here.” “No,” you agree breathlessly. “I shouldn’t.” He slots himself against you, his other hand grips your hip and pushes you back into him. You gasp softly.  “Let it go.” You realize he’s talking about your dress. You squeeze your eyes shut. His lips skate against your neck in a way that makes you dip your head to the side in a silent surrender.  “Let it go,” he repeats.
You grew up with Sarah Miller. 
Soccer teams, high school football pep rallies, prom, homecoming, college acceptance season. Even though it turned into long distance facetime calls, and text chains nine messages long once college hit, Sarah Miller will forever and always be your best friend. 
It’s good to be back in Texas. Both you and Sarah moved back into your childhood homes the second after graduation hit. It’s good to be back, good to see her, your parents, and…Joel. 
You hadn’t seen him in a while. The last time you remember spending more than five minutes in his passing presence was when you and Sarah decided on that Chinese place for a post-high school graduation ceremony meal. He’s close with your dad. In an old school kind of way. In a lets raise our kids together kind of way and a the wives can go shopping together kind of way — before Sarah’s mom split, that is. 
Joel Miller, always brooding, always gruff and quiet. He’s never different. Though, you can’t help but think things might be different now—
No. You almost have to remind yourself out loud. He’s not different. He never is. He’s Joel Miller and you’re — you’re just a kid. You’re as old as his kid. 
Sarah, despite your hardened efforts, managed to drag you out of bed and into the shortest dress you own for a night at some club halfway across town. 
“Sarah, are the shot glasses still in the top cabinet?”
You reach for the knob, barely getting onto the balls of your feet before slipping on the cold laminate tiles in the kitchen. Your open palm balls into a fist and makes the cabinets shutter. Sarah responds with something from her room equally as unintelligible as your question was to her. You can feel your dress starting to ride up a little in your efforts, but you rifle through the Miller’s cabinets like it’s your own home. In some ways it is. 
“Hey, kid.”
You spin around, and quickly shuffle the hem of your dress back down. He nods his head in a lazy greeting. 
“Hey.” You’re breathless for some reason. It’s not because of the shot glasses. 
“Been a while,” Joel says, shuffling into the kitchen and setting a mug in the sink. He looks the same. Tousled hair and a beard just beginning to tinge gray. He’s always — always the same. 
You clear your throat. “Yeah. Been a while.” 
“Congratulations.”
“Thanks.” 
“Good to have you back,” he mumbles, settling back against the kitchen counter. You can see his arms flex when his palms settle onto the countertop. He’s strong, so much bigger than you. You never really noticed the big broadness of him until now. You’re not used to guys like him. All the boys you ever really experienced were clean shaven, soft in a way that told you they’ve never hauled ass through a day’s work. A lifetime of work. 
“Good to be back.” He clocks your outfit. You try to change the subject. “How are things?”
“Same ol’ same ol’.” He grabs a beer from the fridge. “Your dad’s gettin’ into golf. Tryna make me go out with him.” 
You laugh. “Not your scene?” 
“No, not quite.” He shakes his head, sipping on his beer with a smirk that almost makes your knees weak. “What’d you study again?” 
You scoff playfully. “Like you remembered in the first place.”
“Play along.” He smirks.
A knot sticks to your stomach, just below your navel. His voice is sickly sweet. Syrupy and Texan. His voice is like medicine. 
“Education. Just applied for jobs in the fall.”
“You teachin’?” 
“That’s the plan,” you let out with a breathless kind of laugh. 
“Smart girl.” 
His head cocks, and tilts it to the side. Your breath catches in your throat, palms sweaty against the black fabric of your dress. “Hardly.” 
He pauses, eyes you. It’s fleeting—you might think you dream it. You pick at the skin of your own thumb. 
“Your dad know you’re goin’ out?” 
You scoff. “I’m an adult. Don’t need my dad’s permission.”
“Don’t be a smart ass.” 
You eye him, a smirk plays on his lips. 
“I’m not—just…grown up, I guess.”
Something unreadable spreads across his face. “I guess.”
You hitch a tough breath. 
“What’d you need?” He swigs at his beer. 
“Oh.” You look back towards the cabinets, then. “Shot glasses.” 
“Moved ‘em,” he nods and stalks forward, backing you against the counter. He’s got a dark swirl of something warming behind his gaze. You don’t try to scoot away. Even when he reaches up next to your head and you hear the clink of two shot glasses brush up against each other in his fingers. 
“Don’t have too much fun,” he whispers while he pushes the glasses into your hands and leaves the kitchen.
__
You desperately, for your life, cannot keep up with Sarah Miller. 
She drinks entirely too quickly, efficiently, and practiced for your poor alcohol tolerance to keep up with. She’s a machine, and after three shots in, you’re already wasted. It wasn’t even midnight when your vision started to pull in a sideways direction and everything seemed a little slow. You knew things were taking a turn for the worst when the blonde quaffed frat guy with a Texas A&M polo shirt started sounding a little too funny. He was glued to your hip the entire night, though you aren’t sure you even remember his name correctly. You have your bets set on Colter, but then again, after your second shot, everything started to sound a little fuzzy to your rosied ears. 
And when Colter called you and Sarah an Uber at three a.m., you didn’t have the guts to ask him his name, only shooting him a half hearted thanks over your shoulder—your liquid courage having sobered up by the time the Uber rounded the corner to the Miller’s house. 
Even though Sarah Miller can throw back shots like it’s her day job, she passed out onto her bed as quickly as you both left her childhood bedroom while running late for your driver to the club. 
Before she promptly fell asleep, she mumbled something almost unintelligible into the pink sheets of her twin sized bed. But you could make it out enough to spring back from her words while your heart skipped a beat. 
“Get a shirt from my dads room.” 
So you knock, quietly, almost too quietly, and when you rap your knuckles against the wood of Joel Miller’s bedroom door a little harder, it pushes open slightly. The crack of it floods black, you can’t see inside, only the dim night sky illuminating the window sill and curtains in its wake.
When you push it open a little further, the door creaks so loud you push your eyebrows together with worry and freeze in your timely steps. But it’s empty. The bed isn’t entirely made, the covers a little rumpled and haphazard. You spot his dresser and make a quick beeline for it, itching to get out of your uncomfortable dress. 
The drawer slides open with a shift of wood on wood and you snatch up the first black t-shirt you find sitting neatly on top of the pile. Subconsciously, you bring it to your nose—sunlight, and evergreens, and a little hint of musk that peaks through the laundry detergent. The worn, soft cotton of it makes you sigh deep into the dark bedroom. You close your eyes, ball your fist up around the collar and lean into the dresser with your palm fitting against the edge of wood. Just as you turn around and move to close the drawer in your exit, a voice pulls your eyes up from the darkness. 
“What’re you doin’?”
You jump, almost instinctively bringing his shirt to your chest. A sinking, uneasy feeling settles right under your throat. It’s almost like you’ve been caught red handed—you most definitely were. 
You don’t say anything. The light pouring in from the hallway surely illuminates you enough. Joel’s eyes trail down to your bare legs, then to his shirt you have clutched in your hands. 
“That my shirt?” He points to your chest with a vague gesture of his hands. You look down at the material balled up in between your shaky fingers, then back to his eyes.
“I don’t—” You shake your head even though you know your efforts are fruitless. The least you can do is tell the truth. 
“Sarah—she’s—she’s sleeping. Told me to get clothes in here.” You make a slight nod of your head towards his open dresser. He doesn’t say anything, but he takes a step towards you. 
“Sorry, I can just—” You point towards the door behind him, and move to leave. 
“‘S fine,” he mumbles in that deepened, soaked drawl. All honey, and velvet, wrapping you up into something warm and inviting. It tugs at something just beneath your belly. 
When he gets closer, your breath punches out in a staggered rise and fall of your chest. Your fingers don’t move from clutching his shirt. When he nears, he slips a hand past you, brushing your waist, and shuts the drawer closed with a soft thunk. 
Your breath catches in your throat, his eyes trail your figure. 
“Fun night?” 
You clear your throat, nod, slowly, still studying his darkened gaze. “Yeah.”
You clock how close he is when you put your weight on one hip and his jeans brush up against your bare thigh. His breath swirls on your eyelashes. He tugs on his shirt in your hands and lets out a hearty sigh. Shifting from one foot to the other, then again. It seems like you both stay like that for years. 
Brown. His eyes are brown—maybe a little darker than they normally are. His eyes try not to roam, but that hint of something is gone before you can blink. 
He backs away then, towards the door. Most likely seeing you out. He settles near the entrance and looks back at you. Your bare feet shuffle through the carpet. He nudges the door open with a rough palm on the doorknob, leaning against the frame as you approach. 
You’re about to leave, but he catches your elbow, and you spin back to him in a desperate kind of way. 
“You look pretty,” he whispers to your surprise. “Forgot t’mention it earlier.” 
Pretty. 
He thinks you’re pretty. You didn’t even think pretty was in his vocabulary. 
You didn’t think he would notice. 
You don’t say anything. Your eyebrows furrow with want. You study him, eye his brown stare and the way his chest rises and falls under the navy blue t-shirt he’s wearing. And you slowly—slowly push the door shut. You both watch it close. It clicks, the sound of it deafening to your ears. 
He would never, ever make the first move. You’re smart enough to know that for certain, but—pretty. He thinks you’re pretty, and after all this time, it’s still always Joel. 
So you turn your back to him, swipe your hair over one shoulder and turn your head to the side. You can hear him silently swear under his breath. 
“You mind?” you say, gesturing to the zipper of your dress. His soft steps pads on the floor. You can almost feel his chest against your shoulder blades. 
His fingers toy with the zipper, hot and rough but—hesitant. He pulls it down slowly anyways, exposing your back to the crisp air conditioned air, and the heat of his gaze. The straps fall as the zipper does, he curses again, succumbing to your decided fate. 
You hold the front of your dress to your body on instinct, even though the only thing you want to do right now involves him ripping it off you. 
He doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t do anything else—doesn’t back away or come closer or leave. So you reach your hand backward to find him and gasp softly when his fingers tangle with yours. You pull his hand to your body. He locks onto your waist like a leech. 
“What’re you doin’?” He rasps against the shell of your ear, almost like he’s pleading with you. He sounds like he’s in pain. Maybe he’s torn between pleasure and good judgment. You want him to forget about the latter entirely. 
Your stomach drops, you glance to the side again. 
“I thought—” 
“You thought, what?”
Your face goes hot, stare at your feet instead. His hand doesn’t leave you. 
“I don’t…” 
“You thought this was a good idea?” 
You don’t say anything. For some reason you didn’t think it was a bad idea. Not when his hand reaches around to grab your hip.
“What would your daddy think?” 
“I don’t really care what he thinks.” An admission more than anything. 
He sucks in a breath. A quiet contemplation. The look on his face doesn't read pissed, but it's a far cry from happy. You don't know what is behind his gaze.
“Nothin’ but trouble.” He breathes out in a heavy sigh. “Ain’t ya?”
His voice is so much deeper now. His accent shows through, silken and so southern it makes you grip your dress a little harder on instinct. You’ve lost count of how many times your breath has gotten caught up in the tightness of your throat. 
“‘S one word for it.” 
He almost growls, his hand skits down to the hem of your dress and pushes his fingers under it, trailing upward, but stopping before he meets lace. 
“You shouldn’t be in here.”
“No,” you agree breathlessly. “I shouldn’t.”
He slots himself against you, his other hand grips your hip and pushes you back into him. You gasp softly. 
“Let it go.” You realize he’s talking about your dress. You squeeze your eyes shut. His lips skate against your neck in a way that makes you dip your head to the side in a silent surrender. 
“Let it go,” he repeats. 
You drop the hand on your chest and his t-shirt with it. Your dress falls to the floor in a black blanket of smoke. You gasp when his hands are on you, inching slowly from the hem of your underwear to grasp your breast in a rough, teasing palm. 
A small sound escapes past your lips. His other hand, quick to respond, slots over your mouth, silencing you and your whiny moans. 
It’s — rough. The way he pushes his palm into your face to quiet your whimpering, forcing your head back to rest against his shoulder. The way he pushes your underwear down your thighs to rest with his forgotten t-shirt, and your all too tight, too short dress. It’s rough, but so, so gentle. 
It feels like heaven. 
You pitch your back, arching into him in a desperate way. Writhing against him when he finally pushes a calloused finger in between your dripping folds. 
“Jesus.” He shakes his head. You can feel the scratch of his beard against your temple. You wonder what that scruff might feel like between your thighs. “Been wantin’ it all night, huh?”
It’s a question, but not one he needs an answer to. The mess between your thighs is evidence enough. 
Joel. You try to plead, but he’s relentless in his quieting attempts. The pad of his finger brushes against your clit and you’re keening against him. You can feel him smile. 
“Quiet,” he whispers into your ear, then lifts his hand from your mouth, hovering, waiting until the inevitable moan to escape past your lips. But you try your hardest, bite at the skin on the inside of your lip, and he rewards you. He’s a gentleman like that. He sinks his middle finger into your cunt, rubbing tight circles on your swollen clit with his thumb. Everything about him is just so, just right. 
Maybe, usually, with other guys, you’d be disappointed if they’re stingy with the foreplay. But you walked throughout the bar all night with slick dripping through soaked lace just at his words in the kitchen. Smart girl. So you push back into him and beg him—
“Joel.” You’re breathless. You plead at him with your body, with everything you have. “Please,” you whisper simply. 
Something like desperation and want and a little twinge of anxiety settles in your stomach when he releases you. He walks you back to the edge of the bed. It smells like him when you lay down and the softness of the blankets kiss the edges of your face. You can hear the clink of his belt buckle and you suck in a tiny breath.
“How do you want it, baby?” 
You push him back, and his eyes go wide. It’s the first reaction you’ve gotten out of him the whole night. A peak behind his brooding mask. And when you settle each leg on either side of his hips, he groans. It makes you a little more brave. 
“Like this,” you whisper, placing your hands on his chest. He grabs at your wrists, and pushes them under his wide palm to his stomach so you lean forward down to him. He pushes his boxers down and you try not to look, but you make a small sound at the sight. 
“Look good—” he grunts. You take his tip and notch it at your entrance. “Always look so pretty.” 
Your heart pounds in your chest. Everything is different. Everything is new. 
Pretty. 
“Fuck,” you whisper, glancing down at just the sight of him. The size of him. 
“You’re okay, angel.” 
Your gaze snaps to his face. He nods. You believe him. 
“I—ah—” you whimper. “I can take it.” 
“I know you can,” he grunts when you sink down an inch and take the tip of him. Your hips cant at the feeling, taking more of him through groans and pressing whines. He lets you set the pace. Let's you take your time. Even when he’s panting through his gritted teeth and tight lips. 
You sink down on him until there’s nothing left to take. It’s almost painful. But he’s right there, playing with the pearl of your clit, massaging your hips. He knows how much you can take and when you can take it. He seems to know alot about you while knowing very little. 
“Shit,” you groan. “Oh my — god.”
You can hear him muttering something along the lines of perfect. 
It feels that way—perfect. He fits inside you with a tight stretch but nothing compares to the feeling of his throbbing length resting inside you. You would die here with your wanton moans and you would wake to find nothing less. 
“Joel,” you whine, clenching around him, the stretch starts to sweeten. 
“That’s—fuck—yeah, good girl,” he whispers. He sounds like something sweet and dark and rough. You fist at his t-shirt. Just like the one left forgotten by the door. You don’t remember what you came in here for anymore. Not when you’re dangerously close from his thumb rubbing slow circles on your clit. 
“Fuck. Yeah?” He can feel it. From the inside. “Y’gonna come, baby?” 
It’s embarrassing. That you could come like this, with him waiting patiently inside you. You don’t have it in you to lie, you don’t have it in you to bounce up and down or move at all. He turned your legs to jello. 
“I-I don’t—” 
“C’mon,” he grunts and grips your hips to keep him flush to your body. “Know ya want it.”
It only takes one swift rock of your hips. His hands, broad and sprawled out across the plushness of your sides. Your body stalls out on top of him. He sits up to wrap his arms around you and brings you close on instinct. If your brain wasn’t so hazy and you weren’t so lightheaded your heart might swell at the thought. You bite out something sounding somewhat like his name—it’s a garbled whisper and cut of words but you think he gets the gist. 
“I—Ngh—fuck,” he whispers into the crown of your hair. You can feel him throbbing inside you. You chuckle something halfway coherent and let him flip you over, settled on your stomach with your face in the sheets. His fingers skip over your backside. 
“Joel,” you breathe. “I—” 
“Relax,” he says behind you, spreading your folds and staring at the way your cunt clenches around nothing. “Just relax, angel.” 
So you do, you sink boneless into the mattress and let him press you down into the sheets. He feels so broad. He feels so good. You tell him quite as much, in not so many words. You feel the weight of him settle behind you, his hand coming up to brace himself by your head. 
“God, you feel so fuckin’ good.” He sinks in, inch by inch. It’s not so much of a stretch anymore. Carving a place for himself inside you. It feels like he belongs there. You think to yourself that he probably does. You’re squirming beneath him, wringing your fists in dark blue sheets. 
You clamp your eyes shut when he bottoms out. Even more so when he finds a pace he likes and sets it. You don’t have to beg him anymore. Your legs shake beneath his hips, even more so when he hikes your leg up on the bed so he can push deeper. 
Something deep rolls through you again. It shocks you. Most of the guys you’ve been with haven’t made you come once, let alone twice. 
“I can’t—” you whine. “I—fuck.” 
He picks up the pace. 
“Y’can,” he grunts. “Know y’can, c’mon, baby.” 
You nuzzle your face in cotton. His hips chase his release and you know you’re close when he nudges against your g-spot.
“Don’t stop,” you whine. “Please don’t fucking stop, Joel, please, it—ah."
When you come, he grunts through ragged breaths. White hot pools in your stomach and you whine so loudly you’re worried about the neighbors. His hand comes to brace against the back of your neck. You’re so fucking soaked he slides through you easily. 
“Jesus, fuck,” he growls. He bears down on you and your hips and sinks to his elbows when he can’t keep himself up anymore. You feel the cotton of his t-shirt brush against your back. It sends a shiver up your spine. He comes, pulling out and spilling over your back. You try to hide your disappointment. 
He lays beside you for a minute, you barely reach your hand up from the bedsheets to brush against his bicep. He studies your face and pants through a slack jaw. He’s scruffy and broad and — perfect. 
Your gaze flick to his mouth, then his eyes. You silently realize he never kissed you. 
“Gonna get me killed,” he whispers. It’s almost weirdly affectionate in a way only Joel Miller could say. Still stuck in a limbo between pleasure and reality. You smile, softly. 
He climbs off you, and slinks to the bathroom. You wait with baited breath until you hear the water run. He emerges with a soft looking towel, damp with water, clinging to his fingers. You watch him and shiver when the towel touches your back. 
“Okay?” he whispers when you sit up and turn to look at him. 
“Yeah, okay.” 
It feels like something is supposed to happen now. You’re not used to this. Everything slowly comes back as the pleasure ebbs and you blink back to reality. You open your mouth, then close it. He does the same. 
You can hear Sarah’s door open and you both freeze. His brown eyes search yours through a furrowed brow. Your heart goes back into normal rhythm when you hear the bathroom door shut. Then nothing. 
He snags a new shirt from his dresser and tugs it over your body. 
The Texans. 
“Cute,” you gesture to the shirt. It’s soft underneath your fingers, worn. A gentle kind of faded navy blue. Joel picks up your dress off the floor and folds it into your chest while scoffing. 
“Shut up,” He shakes his head, but he can’t hide the smirk on his face. “Get outta here.” 
It’s all oddly playful. Like you both can’t believe it and are giddy at that fact.  
“Same time next week?” 
Something deeper flicks across his gaze at the doorway. “Is that a promise?” 
“You can’t answer a question with another question.” 
You turn when you leave the doorway and settle into the hallway. He’s got his hand on the doorframe, leaning into it—towering over you and already burning something hot through you. Again. 
“I just did,” he grumbles with a smug look, and then shuts the door. 
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lovingmattysposts · 27 days
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You don't know me FINALE
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pairing: y/n and chris sturniolo
summary: you and chris came from two different sides of the spectrum when it came to the social scale. You had the perfect life, the perfect boyfriend, the perfect parents, but when you start to peal back that layers things got messy. Your life was set and stone, your future was set and stone. That was until he comes and changes everything.
warnings: the last part :(
"I went to Rose's grave" Chris stated looking away from me. I took in a breath and nodded as I reached over and grabbed his hand. "How is she?" I whispered. He didn't respond for a second and he blinked.
"I can't imagine her ever being angry. She didn't have a mean bone in her body" He shook his head. I just watched him as he spoke. I wanted to be here for him. I wanted him to know that I was listening.
"I learned a lot, I know that it was probably stressing you out that I wasn't responding to your texts and didn't call but-" He shook his head before bringing his eyes up to mine.
"I needed to just have some time. I just didn't know that until I got there" He breathed. I nodded running my finger over the back of his hand.
"You don't have to apologize" I whispered. He sighed closing his eyes. It was his time, I get that. Going to Rose's grave, the last thing he neeeded to think about was me. He lost someone he loved.
"What did you learn?" I asked after a few seconds, slightly scared for the answer, but there was no reason to panic over the way he's been acting towards me since he got back. He smiled slightly.
"How much I never want to lose you" He breathed. I smiled as I looked down at him. I shuffled down until out noses were pressed together.
"You'll never lose me Chris. I regret to inform you, I'll be here for a long long time" I smiled. He chuckled as he looked at me. He reached up brushing some of my hair behind my ear.
"Good" He whispered pressing his lips to mine softly, I almost didn't realize they were there. Then they were gone. "So you're not moving back to Boston then?" I almost whispered as he looked at me.
A small smile came to his face before he shook his head.
"Why would I move anywhere that you aren't?" He tilted his head. I smiled and kissed his cheek. It's when I pulled back when he spoke again.
"So are you going to tell me why you are living at Nate's house now?" He chuckled. I closed my eyes and sighed.
"Long story short, Scott figured out that I wasn't his and kicked me out" I said leaning back slightly. He furrowed his eyebrows. "How did he--"
"He saw me at brunch with James and Nate" I explained before he could finish. Chris paused for a second before sighing.
"I'm sorry I wasn't here when you had to go through that" He breathed. I shook my head, placing my hand on his cheek. "You had your own stuff going on. I was fine on my own" I shook my head. He still looked upset about it.
"But I could have never done it without the strength that you've given me" I breathed honestly. I couldn't have. I probably would have cried and begged Scott to let me stay. I never would have attempted to reach out to James and I 100% would have never figure out that Scott wasn't my father, without Chris.
"You changed my life" I whispered. He smiled. "You changed mine more" He whispered before his lips connnected to mine.
I pulled back.
“You and Nate okay now?” I whispered as he hovered over me. He smiled and nodded. “Yeah, just laid down some ground rules” He smiled. I raised my eyebrows. “Ground rules?” I questioned. He chuckled and pressed his forehead into my shoulder.
“They’re stricter than James’s” he breathed. I rolled my eyes. “No sex in the house, no PDA in front of him, and skate with him whenever he asks” He lifted his head and looked at me.
I hummed.
“You’ve never been one for rule following have you Sturniolo?” I asked smirking at him. He smiled and shook his head. “No, I have not” He breathed pressing his lips down to mine.
-
1 year later
I screamed as I jumped off my feet into Chris's arms our robes flying over us. He chuckled as he spun me around set me back down on my heels. "We're done" I smiled shaking my head.
"We're done" He smiled back before kissing my forehead to avoid the cap against my head. I sighed almost feeling everything that's ever happened to me the last four years of high school lift off my shoulder with one piece of paper.
"Look" I opened my diploma and showed him my name across the sheet of paper. He smiled and opened his. "I know, I've got the same one" He showed me his. I rolled my eyes but couldn't swipe the smile.
"Yeah, but mine's prettier" I looked down at mine. He rolled his eyes and moved his arm around my shoulders. "Yes my love, yours is prettier" He smiled kissing the side of my face. I smiled before I saw my dad walk up to me.
"Dad! Look!" I cheered running up to him, almost feeling like a little kid as I opened my diploma and showed him. He smiled as he wrapped his arms around me.
"I'm so proud of you, Y/n" He hugged me. I just smiled as I leaned into him. I pulled back and he reached down straightening out my cap on my head. "You looked so beautiful up there" He smiled.
"James! Are you proud of me?" Chris said walking up behind me. He raised his eyebrow. "More or less" He shrugged. I smiled and shook my head looking up at Chris.
I couldn't stop smiling. Today was so perfect. I was done with highschool.
"This shit isn't fair. I have a whole other year" Nate grumbled as he walked up to us. "Language" My dad snapped at Nate. Chris lifted the cap off his head and placed it on to Nate's. "Look, it's like you almost graduated" Chris tilted his head holding back a laugh.
I reached up ruffling Chris's hair back down.
"Hey, at least you get to be captain two-years in a row. I don't think that's ever happened" I said looking at Nate. Nate smiled slightly over at me.
If I'm honest, It took a lot to bring Nate and I's relationship to where it is today. But we got here. We’re finally acting civil….as civil as sibling can be. My dad put his arm around me, pulling me towards him.
"I'm proud of you sweetheart" My dad whispered down at me. I smiled. I finally felt whole. Like I was taking a breath for the first time.
"Give me your diploma" Nate said looking at Chris. Chris glared at him. "No" He clutched it towards his chest. Nate lunged for it making them tumble at each other.
"Hey! hey!" I snapped, they pulled apart.
"Sorry" They said in unison.
"Hey, I need to find my grandpa. You're coming over tonight right?" Chris said stepping back. I smiled and nodded. "What? It's Friday. We always hang out on Friday" Nate crossed his arms.
"Just us, kid"
"Don't call me that" Nate snapped at me. I rolled my eyes.
"Y/n?" Chris caught my attention. "Yes, Your place at 6" I smiled. He smiled before running up to me and kissing me. My dad grumbled above me. "Okay, I love you. I'll see you later" He smiled before running off.
"Dad, stop pretending you hate Chris" I raised my eyebrows up at him. He rolled his eyes looking off to where he ran. "I like him, just not when he's kissing you" He mumbled. I shook my head.
"Y/n"
My dad's eyes raised behind me and I swore I saw the light leave him. I turned seeing my mother standing there with a small box in her hand. My mouth fell open.
"Mom" I breathed. She just looked at me. "What--What are you doing here? You didn't tell me you were coming" I crossed my arms over my chest. She looked down at her feet.
The relationship between my mother and I had been rocky. I could count on one hand of how many times I've spoken to her in the past year. The times I've spoken to Scott, I couldn't count on any.
The transition between moving into James's house was quiet. Like they barley cared where I went, or they knew where I went and still didn't care.
"I didn't know I was--I just--" She shook her head before she raised it and made eye contact with my dad.
"James" She nodded at him. I stepped back looking at them. He took in a long breath. "Clara" He stated. I felt the tension in the air, it made me want to puke. Or run. I didn't know which.
"I just thought that...you know. It's your big day. I wanted to be here" She nodded. I nodded and looked at her before looking down at the box in her hand. She looked down at her hands.
"This is for you. For college and everything, just a little going away gift" She breathed holding out the box for me. I hesitantly took it out of her hands and nodded at her.
"Thank you" I breathed. She smiled and shifted on her feet awkwardly looking between James and I. "I'll be on my way now. I don't want to intrude" She said softly.
"We were going to go out to lunch—" My dad spoke suddenly. I looked up at him with wide eyes. His eyes were focused on my mom. "If you wanted to come. I'm sure Y/n would love to tell you about her plans to attend Michigan State in the fall" My father looked down at me.
I shook my head softly as if to say: No I don’t. He looked at me and he gave me a stern look.
"You're going to Michigan State?" My mom's voice asked softly. I turned and looked at her and gave a soft nod. She smiled almost genuinely at me. She took in a breath and looked around.
"I'm not sure Scott would like that very much, he doesn't even know i'm here" She breathed. I swallowed feeling the shame wash over me again as if I was being kicked out all over again.
God forbid my mother wanted to see me graduate.
My dad smacked his lips and nodded. I looked up at him. He was disappointed. Sad, almost. Fuck. Swallowing my pride and my hurt, I reached out.
"It would only be for an hour and I did want to get your opinion on some dorm shopping" I forced out of my mouth. My mother's face brightened. She smiled and nodded.
"Well, okay. Yeah, just an hour" She nodded smiling.
-
"Please be easy on her. He doesn't need any extra stress. It's the first time he's seen her in like 18 years" I breathed over to Nate, who looked less than happy. He took in a breath and looked down at his plate, with an unhappy expression.
"Just bite your tongue for one meal" I stated and he looked away from me and back down to his plate. He was less than pleased to hear my mother was joining us for dinner. To be honest, I wasn't jumping for joy either. But if I was sucking it up, he had to too.
"I still have those pins from that trip" My mother chuckled. My dad smiled up at her. "That’s incriminating yourself" He laughed shaking his head. She rolled her eyes.
"They'll never know I was the one who took them" She smiled shaking her head. I took in a breath looking down at my plate. Why did this feel like such a bad idea?
They were going on tangets about stories from their years in college. I just hope it doesn't dig up any more dirt than I'm willing to handle. This lunch was already pushing me to my limits.
My dad smiled down at his plate. A genuine smile. I smiled over at him. "Y/n, have you figure out a roommate yet?" My mother's voice brought be away from the look on my dad's face. I looked up at her.
"Yeah, Sydney's gonna room with me" I smiled nodding at her. She smiled and nodded. "I'm glad you two are still friends, she was a nice girl" She smiled in approvance. I nodded.
"Nate took Sydney on a date recently" James spoke up. Nate's eyes snapped up. "It wasn't a date" He said quickly. James smiled and looked down. I looked over at him.
"What? You didn't tell me that" I snapped. He looked up at me. "It wasn't a date" He repeated himself. I glared at him, mentally writing down to yell at Sydney for hiding that from me.
"You bought flowers" My dad spoke.
"Dad" Nate snapped.
My eyes widened and Nate shook his head looking down at his plate.
“You can’t date my best friend” I stated crossing my arms over my chest. He glanced up at me. “It’s weird. I don’t want—“
“You think I jump for joy everytime I have to watch you and Chris are all over each other in my house?” Nate snapped.
My mother looked up at me. I met her gaze. “You’re still seeing Chris?” She asked softly. I opened my mouth and closed it before looking down, remembering everything she’s ever said to me about Chris. About seeing someone like him.
“Yeah” I breathed softly. She nodded and looked down. “He seems like a nice boy” when the words left her mouth, I almost didn’t believe her. I looked up and she smiled at me.
I smiled down at my plate.
The rest of the lunch, I questioned Nate about his date with Sydney. He was vague, didn't say much. He ended the converstaion with a "shut the fuck up' and that was that. My dad and my mom spoke like old friends.
It was weird. It was almost like the whole letter situation never happened. Or the fact that she hid me from him for 18 years. It was like none of it ever happened and they were right back to where they were.
And I didn't know if it was a good thing.
"I've got the check" My dad picked up the paper. My mother reached out shaking her head. "No, please. Let me take it" She wiped her mouth with the napkin. He was already in the process of handing the waitress his card.
"James" She spoke.
"It's fine. My treat" He shook his head.
We got up from the table and walked towards the door. "Should I ask her if she's my new mommy now?" Nate whispered over to me. I elbowed him in the side. We stepped outside and I turned to my mom, letting out a breath.
"I'm up towards campus a lot. If you'll let me, I'd love to come visit sometime" She breathed down at me. I just looked up at her for a second.
I wondered if she genuinely missed me or not. If she was just saying this just to feel good about herself or feel like she at least tried. It's hard for me to sit here and believe there is honesty about her words. After all, she chose the money over me.
But she stared down at me with a look I'd never seen in her eyes before. Almost....hopefuless?
"Yeah maybe" I nodded. She smiled before reaching over and giving me a hug. I softly hugged her back. I don't remember the last time she's hugged me. I must have been 10. Maybe she did really miss me.
"Okay" She smiled placing her hands on my shoulders. She looked up at James. "Thank you for the lunch, James" She smiled. He nodded as they looked at each other.
I knew that look. I knew that look so well that I felt it. The way Chris looks at me. It pained me to see it in my dad's eyes when my mom wasn't the girl that deserved that kind of look from him.
"I have to go" She said pointing behind her. "Okay" He nodded. She just looked up at him for a second before turning and then looking back at us, then she was gone.
I looked up at James who just watched her walk away.
"Dad" I breathed. He still stared at her before he looked down at me. Another look. Pain. I knew that all too well too.
"Yeah. Okay, let's get you home" He broke from his trance and he placed his hand on my back as we walked home. I sighed and swallowed the lump in my throat.
"I've got to go to the rink" Nate spoke before darting off in the other direction, looking down at his phone. James turned his head as he watched him walk behind us.
"Isn't the rink closed on Friday?" I asked looking up at my dad. He chuckled and wrapped his arm around my shoulder. "And the rink is in the opposite direction" He chuckled, making me smile and shake my head.
We walked for a minute in silence. I couldn't help the questions that were eating me alive inside. I didn't know if I should ask them. I didn't want to intrude.
"Go ahead Y/n. I know you want to hound me" My dad chuckled from above me. I smiled up at him and laughed. "I don't want to hound you" I laughed. He rolled his eyes. I sighed and looked down.
"Do you think that--" I bit my lip.
"Do you think if I never happened, you would have gotten your happy ending with Clara?" I asked softly. He looked forwards as we walked. He bit his lip and shook his head.
"I used to think that I was never meant for a happy ending" He breathed. I looked down as my heels hit the pavement. "But I was wrong" He pulled me towards him. "I got you" He smiled. I smiled against him.
"I don't want you to worry about me anymore sweetheart. My story's over. You've got your own one going" He stated. I looked up at him. "I don't think anyone's story is ever over, until the book finally closes" I said looking up at him. He raised his eyebrows.
"You should have been a poet kid" He smiled. I shook my head.
"I'm so proud of you" He shook his head. I nodded. "You keep telling me that" I smiled. He squeezed me. "It's because I mean it" He stated making me smile.
“Are you gonna open your box?” He asked looking down at the unopened box in my hand that my mother had given me. I nodded before opening the top and looking down at it.
A pair of silver star earrings, ones that match my bracelet.
Silver. I don’t wear gold.
Maybe she does really know me, and she had all this time.
-
"I wanna show you something"
I blinked up at him as he looked down at me. "You're scaring me" I chuckled as I walked around him and landed on his bed. It was hard to believe he wouldn't live here anymore at the end of the summer. I loved this bed.
I laid down and sighed running my arms through the sheets. I sat up on my elbows and looked at him. "Chris" I chuckled as he stared down at me.
"I wanna show you something" He repeated. I nodded. "I heard you the first time" I smiled sitting up. I jumped off his bed as I spun around his room.
"Can you believe we graduated?" I gushed as I looked up smiling to myself. "It doesn't feel real" I shook my head. He just smiled and watched me. "No more tests, no more drama, no more useless information" I shook my head.
I looked over at him.
"Just us" I smiled. He slowly walked over to me and placed his hands on my shoudlers. "Can you relax for a second?" He chuckled. I pushed his arms off smiling.
"Make me" I smiled before grabbing his hands and pulling them towards me and pressing my lips to his. He smiled against me.
"When do you leave for Boston?" I whispered against his lips. He just stared down at me. "A few days before you move in to your dorm" He whispered back. I parted from him.
Chris got accepted to Boston College and Michigan State. Both his parents went to Boston College and he had a full ride there. It wouldn't have made sense if he stayed in Michgain. Even though, selfishly, I wanted him to. If he wanted to be in Boston, then that's where I wanted him to be.
I just tried not to think about it. Plus it was less than a 3 hour plane right. I put every last drop of my trust fund, that I wasn't using for my tution, into a savings account so I could pay for flights.
I knew I'd miss him a bunch so I saved it all so I wouldn't have to worry about the cost of the flight.
It was weird. Worrying about money for the first time in my life. But I had gotten used to it.
“You got new earrings” he smiled his fingers brushing hair behind my shoulder. I nodded reaching up and touching them.
“My mom got them for me, as a graduation gift” I smiled. He raised his eyebrows. “Silver too, wow” He smiled. I nodded felling the warmth in my chest.
"Can I show you what I want to show you now?" He chuckled. I smiled and nodded. I blinked up at him and he looked down at me.
"Are you gonna show me?" I smiled tilting my head as I stared at him. He just smiled at me. "Not here, come on" He grabbed my hands and dragged me out of his room.
A few minutes later we were trecking through the woods behind his house. I held his arm close to me as we walked, taking in the scent of him. I smiled to myself. Whatever I'd done right in my life, or wrong, has led me to this moment and I haven't been more happy.
I'd already started a wedding folder on my Pinterest board. My dad saw it and won't stop grumbling about it. I told him it wouldn't happen for years, but a girl can dream.
Chris reached up pulling branches out of my way so that I could step through to the clearing. I smiled as I dropped his arm and walked out hearing the sounds of the rushing stream.
I took in a breath. The view of his secret place never got old. I turned around and looked at him smiling as I hugged my arms over myself.
“Okay what did you want to show me?” I smiled in anticipation. He smiled at me before reaching down and pulling his sweatshirt off and throwing it towards the blankets.
“Ooo, a strip tease?” I chuckled as I walked up to him and placed my hands on his chest. “No” he laughed. I smiled and stepped back. He reached over pulling up his sleeve before revealing newly marked skin.
My eyes widened as I walked over go him and pressed my fingers to the red skin.
A new tattoo.
“Awe, a deer. That’s so cute” I smiled. He rolled his eyes. “Not a deer. It’s a doe you idiot” he chuckled. I froze before I looked back up at him connecting our eyes.
“What?” I breathed as I looked back down at the tattoo. My fingers moved over it. A small doe with small stars around it. It was on its hind legs reaching for a star. I swallowed as I felt my eyes start to water.
“Chris” I whispered looking at his arm, never wanting to look away from it. “Don’t cry, I wouldn’t have gotten it if I knew you were gonna cry” He chuckled. I reached up wiping my eyes.
“I’m not crying” I lied as I looked at it. He looked down at me with a small smile. I let his arm go and wrapped my arms around his shoulder, burring my face in his neck.
“I love you so much” I breathed. He wrapped his arm around my back as he held me against him. “I love you more than all the stars in the sky.” He whispered back.
I leaned back before pressing my lips to his and leaning back.
“I don’t know what my life would be if I had never met you” I breathed pressing my forehead against his. He smiled and reached up wiping the tears under my eyes.
“Thank god you’re so persistent then” He smiled before pressing his lips back down to mine.
-
6 months later
“How much stuff does one person need?” Nate groaned as he dropped another box on the floor. I pushed him once the box dropped. “Be careful!” I snapped before opening it and inspecting the damage.
I picked up the picture frame. It wasn’t broken. I sighed of relief before holding it to my chest. I turned to Nate. “Idiot” I snapped.
I’d been on edge all day. Who knew the whole moving process would be so stressful?
“Hey, be nice. He’s helping you” My dad said kicking open the door and setting down another box. Nate crossed his arms over his chest.
“Yeah, God forbid I break one of your 20 pictures of you and Chris. I mean really how many pictures does one girl need of their boyfriend?” Nate glared at me.
“A lot” I motioned over to Sydney’s side of the room that had at least five, just on the dresser of her and Nate. Nate blushed and turned away.
“What’d I miss?” Sydney smiled as she opened the door. I looked between her and Nate. I looked up at my dad. “Can you get the last box from the car please?” I smiled. He sighed and nodded as exited the room.
“Ground rules” I stated walking over to her side of the bed. Sydney and Nate glanced at each other before looking back over to me.
I picked up a picture frame.
“If you’re kissing in the photo, it doesn’t go on public display” I cringed holding it out for Sydney. She sighed and grabbed it out of my hand. Nate smiled and shook his head.
“You are not allowed to come over on weekdays” I pointed at Nate. Nate glared at me. “Hey! What? How is that fair? This is my dorm too” Sydney stepped forward.
“He’s my brother! As much as I want to watch you canoodle in this 14x14 box that we live in, I don’t. Weekends are even pushing it” I said crossing my arms.
“That’s like two days” Nate argued. I shook my head. “How would you feel if I had a guy over every single day?” I asked Sydney. She raised her eyebrows as if to say ‘that would never happen’.
“If Chris was here you would” Sydney stated. My smile dropped and I turned away from her picking up more picture frames. You could feel the shift in energy.
They both looked at each other and sighed.
“Weekends got it” Sydney mumbled looking down at her feet. I narrowed my eyes at Nate as I stood back up. He rolled his eyes. “You’re the not the boss of me and you can’t tell me when to see my girlfriend” He stated.
“You’re 17, I can technically tell you to do anything.” I stated back. He opened his mouth to speak.
“I’ll tell dad about the time you fell off the roof from sneaking in from Sydney’s over the summer” I snapped before he could say anything.
He glared at me.
“You’re just mad because Chris is 12 hours away. Don’t take it out on my relationship” He snapped back. I took in a breath and looked out the window.
Silence filled the room.
“Hey” Sydney said. I looked over at her. “I get it. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. I appreciate you being cool with me…you know dating your brother and everything” She breathed looking over at Nate, who still wore an angry expression.
“But can Friday count as the weekend?” She smiled. I looked between them. Sydney smiled brightly at me.
“Fine. But don’t do anything weird” I pointed at her. She held her hands up. Sydney back up before looking back at Nate. Her phone buzzed before she looked down at it.
“Uh…hey Nate!” She said loudly. Nate looked over at her. “Do you mind..assisting me with the rest of my belongings?” She said glancing from me to him. I just watched them.
“What?” Nate said looking at her. She rolled her eyes and grabbed his arm. “Just come on” She groaned pulling him out of the room.
I sighed as I picked up the box off the floor and set it on my desk. I reached in and picked up each picture frame placing it strategically on my desk. I swallowed the lump in my throat.
I wish I could say that I’m taking this new long-distance thing well, but I’m not. After everything we’ve been through, I thought that I could do this. That it wouldn’t be hard for me.
Hell, he hasn’t been gone a week and I’m in pieces. I’ve tried not to think about it. Occupying most of my days planning out and picking out my dorm room decorations and watching wheel of fortune with my dad until he fell asleep.
The one thing I’d been putting off is printing out these pictures. I’d sat in my room placing them in the frames, tears running down my face.
I never wanted to be that girl. I mean Christ, he’s not dead. He’s just 12 hours away. 12 long traitorous hours away.
My thumb ran over a picture of me and Chris on graduation day. My smiling face pressed against his. He clearly didn’t want to be taking the photo, but I had forced him.
I sighed as I place it next to my mirror.
Chris is proud of me. Proud that I went where I wanted to go and proud that I pushed him where he wanted to go. It’ll all work out in the end. After all were us.
I heard a small knock on the door.
“Yeah?” I mumbled, my eyes still on the frame.
“I heard word that a very pretty lady was staying in this room, came to see for myself”
I turned around practically dropping the picture frame.
Chris smiled down at me with a box in his hand and a hat on his head.
“Chris!” I screamed running forward making him drop the box by his feet as I wrapped my arms and legs around him. I squeezed him tight. This wasn’t real.
“Oh my god” I pulled on him tighter. “Hi baby” he chuckled as he held me. I pulled back taking his face in my hands.
“What—what are you doing here?” I shook my head smiling. He placed me back on my feet as he smiled down at me.
“What? You thought you were the only one moving in today?” He asked tilting his head. I furrowed my eyebrows. “What?” I whispered not understanding.
Nate, my dad, and Sydney walked through the room smiling. I held onto Chris, almost scared that he was going to disappear.
“What’s going on?” I smiled at them.
“It seems that transferring is way easier that I thought, especially since the school year hasn’t started yet” Chris mumbled against the top of my head. I looked up at him.
“What? What about Boston?” I shook my head. He shrugged. “They had a better program here. Plus I’d get to see your face everyday, can’t do that in Boston” He smiled down at me.
I looked at my dad.
“You knew about this?” I asked shaking my head. He smiled and shrugged. “We didn’t know for sure, we didn’t want to tell you before it was finalized” My dad shook his head.
I looked back at Chris.
“You go here?” I teared up.
“Go Spartans” He smiled.
I laughed before leaning up and pressed my lips against his.
“Gross” Nate mumbled. Sydney and my dad hit him at the same time. “Ow” Nate glared at them rubbing his arms.
“What was that thing about weekends again?” Sydney tilted her head. I glared at her. “Shut it” I smiled. She shook her head.
-
“Are you just gonna keep these things wherever you go?” Chris breathed as we laid in my bed. I looked over at him tearing my eyes from the ceiling. “Yeah. What about it?” I smiled. He shook his head smiling.
“Someone special gave them to me” I breathed as I looked up at the plastic stars on my ceiling. He sighed as he wrapped his arms around me.
“Chris?”
“Yes?”
I looked up at him and he smiled down at me.
“I didn’t want to pull you away from Boston. If you really wanted to go there, I would have been fine with that” I breathed quietly, feeling the guilt swarm in my chest.
"You know" He brushed a piece of hair out of my face. I just watched him. "As soon as I hit Boston ground, I knew I made a mistake leaving" He whispered.
"It was kind of like that gut feeling that.....you knew something was wrong" He shook his head. I laid my head against him as he spoke. "There's not a point for the rest of my life that I want to be more than five minutes away from you, unless you want me to be" He smiled down at me. I smiled at him.
"Plus the program here for my major is technically better" He smilled. I leaned up and kissed him softly.
"Are we gonna make it?" I whispered against his lips.
"There's not a doubt in my mind, princess"
THE END
AHHHH HEY GUYS! thank you so much for all of the love, support, and scary threats to update.....lol. I hope you loved the ending of this and you can imagine how you want how they go throughout their colleges years, etc.
I hope you loved this story and all the twists and turns and as always give me your thoughts on it. I love you guys.
Autumn 🧡
508 notes · View notes
heavenlyhischier · 24 days
Text
𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐒𝐤𝐢𝐧 | 𝐍𝐢𝐜𝐨 𝐇𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐞𝐫
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
word count: 3.6k
summary: Nico in eye black. That's all.
warnings: MINORS DNI 18+ CONTENT BELOW THE CUT -> unprotected sex (be responsible!), oral (fem receiving), choking, slight overstimulation but not really, multiple orgasms, slight praise and slight degredation kink
note: the stadium series was three weeks ago, but im still thinking about this so enjoy!
The wind was cold as it bit at the exposed skin of your face, turning your cheeks and nose a dark shade of red. Your hands were clad in your thickest gloves, body bundled in the warmest clothes as you shuffled near the lively group of friends and family beside you. Many were in town for the stadium series game, smiles on their faces as they proudly represented their player. Excitement was filling the air as everyone conversed and waited for the guys to finally walk out.
You were standing near his sister and dad, laughing about something in the story they had been telling you when you felt your phone buzz in your jacket pocket. It was almost time for the guys to come out on the ice for their pictures and for practice, so you assumed that it was Nico sending you his usual selfie with a silly little caption attached to it. You carefully slipped one of your gloves off and grabbed your phone while there was a break in the conversation. 
When you opened to his message, your breath hitched in your throat when you saw the black streaks underneath his eyes. You knew he was going to be wearing eye black, he told you so himself, but you didn’t prepare yourself for what he was going to look like with it on. Your pupils were blown slightly wider, lip subtly pulled between your teeth as your gaze stayed on the picture of him. It wasn’t until you felt a gentle nudge into your bicep that you looked away.
“Girl, you’re drooling,” Nicole chuckled, raising her eyebrows at you before she glanced at your phone, “Lucky you. J chose not to wear it.”
“He’s trying to kill me,” You shook your head, your face now flushed from the thoughts passing through your mind.
“Don’t act like you’re complaining,” She teased, bumping into your shoulder with her own.
“Oh, I’m not.”
You fell back into conversation with Nico’s family, slipping your gloves back on over your hands and shoving them into your pockets. Nina was asking about how things had been going between you and her brother, making sure he was treating you the way he should be. You assured her that he was before asking about her own love life, diving into her ventures. She was finishing up a story about her recent date when they announced that the guys were to be walking out in a few minutes, and everyone gathered close to watch.
The sound of music blaring out of the stadium interrupted your conversation, causing everyone’s heads to turn towards the platform they were walking out on. The guys trickled out of the tunnel one by one, but the second your eyes landed on Nico it was like everything and everyone else around him blurred into the background.  He was wearing their game uniform, the team beanie sat on top of head as he walked towards the ice.
Your eyes were focused on him and only him as he slipped the skate covers off and stepped onto the rink, skating around with his friends until he noticed you standing by his family. The two of you made eye contact, him dropping his left eye into a wink before he turned back to the team. You press your thighs together, your heart slamming into your chest as images of him hovering over you flooded your mind.
Nina wasn’t blind to your sudden shift in demeanor, shaking her head as she watches your eyes bashfully dart to the ground in front of you. She was silently thankful her brother had gotten her and their dad their own hotel rooms, and she made a note to not put the key to his apartment he had given her to use tonight. 
Everyone watches as the team gathered around for their team picture, their brief practice starting not much long after they finished them. You joked around with those around you, laughing at Kevin as he skated around with the football helmet on, but there was one thing at the back of your mind the entire time. Just when you thought you had composed yourself, you’d catch a glimpse of Nico and it sent you reeling back to the dirtiest parts of your mind. 
When practice was over and they started to let families and friends onto the ice, you waited with Nina for Nico to get done talking to whoever he needed to. You were a little rusty with your skating abilities, so you often found yourself grasping onto her bicep to keep yourself from falling. You heard his laughter as he skated over to the three of you, his eyes full of amusement as he watches you grasp his sister.
“Versuchst du, mir mein mädchen zu stehlen,” Nico jokes at his sister, playfully narrowing his eyes at her. (Are you stealing my girl?)
“Ich bin das bessere geschwister,” She rolls her eyes. (I am the better sibling.)
Nico stops next to you, grabbing your arm and carefully pulling you into his side as he greets his sister and dad before placing a kiss to your temple. Your arm wraps around his waist to keep yourself steady as you peer up at him, your lip subtly being pulled between your teeth as your eyes dance across his face. He feels your stare on him, and he breaks his gaze away from his dad to look down at you.
“You okay,” He asked, voice quiet as he squeezed your shoulders.
“More than okay,” You giggle as your eyes briefly flit down to the streaks under his eyes to his lips. 
He notices the way your gaze drops, and he raises his eyebrows as a knowing glint sparkles in his eyes. Suddenly he’s hyper aware of the way your bottom lip was red from your teeth and you looked flushed in a different way than the others. He notices the way you swallow thickly the longer you look at him, and he knows exactly what’s going through your mind. 
He leans down, his lips hovering right above your ear as he whispers, “Good thing I got them a hotel, yeah?”
Your eyes dart back up to his, wide and excited as he gives you a smug smirk before he turns back to the others around him. He takes your hand in his own and skates around the rink, the two of you stopping and mingling with the others when he could tell you were getting a little too unsteady. When he has to do something for the media team, you try and skate around on your own, but you end up barreling into Luke and using him as a stabilizer for a while.
The rest of the skate goes by fairly quickly and people slowly begin to filter off the rink to go home and rest before the busy day that followed. You had made your way back to Nico’s family, discussing your plans for tomorrow when he approached the three of you asking if they were ready to go. He helped you off the ice and had you sit on the bench so that he could unlace your skates. 
As you watch him on one knee in front of you, his fingers undoing the tight laces, you can’t help but admire him. Loose strands of his hair had fallen out of his beanie and into his face. His eyelashes were full and long in a way that always made you a teeny bit envious because yours were nowhere near that beautiful. Warmth spread from your core as your gaze lingered on him, and you couldn’t wait to get home.
“Nico,” You called out when he slipped off the other skate, leaning down so you were centimeters away from his face, “Leave the eye black on.”
“Planned on it,” He winked, placing a small kiss to your lips before he pulled away, “I’m going to drop my sister and dad off at the hotel. I’ll see you at home. I love you!”
Time seemed to slow down when you arrived at the apartment, waiting for Nico to walk through the door. You had attempted to pass the time by changing out of your many layers of clothes and into a t-shirt from his closet. Now, you were unloading the dishwasher while you waited. However, you were too engrossed with making sure the dishes were placed the correct way that you missed the sound of the door opening. 
Nico had carefully dropped his bag by the door and slipped his shoes off, keeping his footsteps light and quiet while he approached you from behind. His eyes dragged the length of your body, taking in the way his shirt barely covered the curve of your ass and the way your legs were on full display. The sight alone made his cock twitch in his pants, but he knew he’d get to have his way with you soon.
“Hi,” He whispers as he wraps his arms around your front, pulling you into his chest as you let out a surprised squeal.
“Hi, baby,” You giggled as you further pressed yourself against him, craning your neck so that you were looking at him, “I see you left it on.”
“Of course I did,” He hummed as he spun you around so that your body was facing him, his fingers slipping underneath the material of the shirt, “Anything for you.”
You wrapped your arms around his neck, standing on your toes as your eyes danced across his face. Nico’s hands flex on your hips, slightly pulling them into his own as he swipes his tongue across his lips. He keeps his eyes trained on your face, waiting in impatient anticipation for you to make the first move. He watches as your gaze briefly pauses over the ink on his cheeks, your pupils dilating every so subtly before you’re surging forward and slamming your lips against his own. 
His fingers press into the flesh of your hips as he backs you against the counter of the center island. Your hands tangle in his hair, gently pulling and tugging on the strands as you slip your tongue into his mouth, his low groan vibrating against your lips. He slides his hands down to grasp the backside of your thighs, effortlessly lifting you so that you were sitting on the cool marble of the counter.
“Bedroom,” You breath out as he pulls away to kiss along your jaw down to the sensitive skin of your neck.
“No. Right here,” He mumbles, his teeth scraping the column of your throat and one of his hands grazing your inner thigh.
You let him push your thighs apart as he sucks at the skin just below your ear, your head thrown back as soft pants slip through your lips. His fingers ghost over your heat, making you whine out in desperation for his fingers, for his mouth, for him. You feel the rumble of his amusement on your throat before he’s pulling away from you, his gaze dark as he looks down at you.
“Not wearing panties,” He taunts as he cocks his head to the side, “That desperate, are you?”
“Nico,” You groan, your eyes wide and pleading, “I need you, please baby. Please.”
“Good girl,” He murmurs as he slides a finger through your folds, teasing you, “I like when you beg for it.”
You squeeze your eyes shut as he presses the pad of his thumb to your clit, sending a jolt to your nerves. You can hear the soft thud of his knees hitting the floor, so you force your eyes open to see him slotted between your thighs. He’s looking up at you, smile smug and eyes shining with a wicked glint to them. He drops his gaze to the sight of you dripping in front of him, and your breath catches in your throat in anticipation.
The second Nico’s lips brush against the soft skin on the inside of your thigh, your eyes are fluttering closed and you’re tilting your head back in ecstasy. He’s placing a mixture of delicate and open mouthed kisses as he moves closer and closer to your center, lighting the skin on fire in the wake of his touch. You can feel his warm breath hitting your aching pussy, sending your hand flying to tangle in his hair as he briefly flicks eyes back up to you.
He flattens his tongue in between your folds, licking a stripe between them as he grips your thighs with his hands. He brushes against your clit, your moan bouncing off the counter beneath you as you tighten your hold on his hair. You feel his laughter vibrate against you, pleasure burning your nerves as he flicks his tongue against your clit. You’re about to carefully push his face into you, your body yearning for his touch, but it was almost as if he could sense your pathetic desires as he plunges a finger into your hole and attaches his lips to the sensitive nub of nerves.
“Oh God,” You breathe out as he works his finger in sync with his mouth.
Your eyes are screwed shut, one of your hands gripping the edge of the counter so tightly that your knuckles were turning white. Nico groans as you tug on his hair,  but he doesn’t stop; he doesn’t even slow down. In fact, he thrusts another one of his fingers inside of you and begins curling them against your walls. The combination of his mouth and his fingers makes the knot in your stomach tighten to the point that it becomes overwhelmingly blissful.
Nico’s movements are unyielding as your cries fill the space around you, your orgasm ripping apart every single nerve in your body as your hand drops from his hair. He keeps his fingers moving inside of you as your juices coat the bottom half of his face. He lets out a satisfied hum against your sensitive core, sending another wave of shock through your body as he pulls his face away and his fingers out of you.
He watches the way your chest rises and falls as you pant, your neck arched backwards as you try to catch your breath and your walls clench around the absence of his fingers. He stands between your legs, the feeling of his bulge pressing against you as he leans towards you to grasp your chin between his fingers. The contact causes your eyes to snap open, meeting his gaze as he brings his fingers up to your mouth.
“Open up, pretty girl,” He instructs, quirking his brow as he taps your cheek..
You drop your jaw, allowing Nico to slide the digits onto your tongue before wrapping your lips around them. You swirl your tongue around his fingers, your gaze unrelenting from his own as you taste yourself. Nico can feel his cock throbbing in his pants, the tormenting urge to bury himself inside of you growing by the second.
“Good girl,” He praises as he removes his fingers from your mouth, “Think you’re ready for me?”
“Yes,” You eagerly nod.
Nico quickly yanks his pants down his legs, smirking to himself when he sees the black smudges on your thighs from the eye black on his face. The marks on your skin drove him crazier than he thought it would, but he didn’t give himself much time to think about it as he kicked his pants away and reached for the hem of your shirt. He pulls it over your head, letting you help him with his own before the both of you are completely bare.
“Du bist so schön,” Nico breaths out as his eyes drag across your body, drinking in every single centimeter of the skin as if it was the last time he’d see you. (You are so beautiful)
Your cheeks flush at the compliment you heard every single day, eyes darting away from him, but he didn’t let your stare stay away for long. He wraps his large hand around your neck and guides your focus back to him. The ink on his cheeks had faded a little, and with one fleeting glance to your thighs, you could see the remnants contrasting against your skin. It made the warmth in your stomach spread down to your already pulsing core.
“Ready, schatzi,” He tenderly asks, caressing the skin of your neck with his thumb.
You pull your bottom lip between your teeth as you nod, wiggling your hips towards him as he pumps himself in his hand. He guides himself towards your center, rubbing the tip of his cock between your folds as he teases your entrance. You wrap your leg around his hip trying to subtly pull him closer to you, but he’s stronger than you and he doesn’t budge. 
“Be patient,” He chastises, pulling your face to his own by his cautious grip on your neck, “You’ve been a needy slut all night. Rubbing against me in front of my family and team? Looking at me like you wanted me to bend you over in front of everyone?”
“Couldn’t help it,” You whisper as his lips ghost over your own.
“Yeah, I bet you couldn’t,” He chuckled before he slowly pushes himself inside of you, his hand gently squeezing the sides of your throat.
A moan tumbles from your lips as you grasp at his back in an attempt to keep yourself steady, the feeling of Nico’s cock stretching your walls sending you into a dizzying haze. No matter how many times you had sex with him, he had to give you time to adjust to him before he can ruin you the way he really wants to. The sharp pain between your legs slowly dulls until it’s nothing but a pleasurable ache.
Nico knows your body like the back of his hand, and he doesn’t need you to tell him when you’re okay; he can feel it. He feels it in the way your entire body relaxes, in the way your walls pulse around him. He slowly thrusts into you, keeping the motion of his hips short and shallow as he gives you a little more time to get used to him, and to tease you. Your fingernails dig in his back as he moves into you at a painfully slow pace, your pleas filling his ears as you beg for more. 
“God, you’re so desperate, aren’t you,” He groans as you clench around him, “Begging for my cock, yeah?”
“I thought you liked it when I beg,” You force out, your voice breaking off into a moan as he roughly snaps his hips against your own.
Nico slams into you, his grunts meshing with your loud moans as your nails scrape against the skin of his back. The pressure on your throat is just enough to make you dizzy, intensifying every single feeling that pumps through your veins. It made your orgasm build in your stomach all over again, this time its intensity was multiplied times ten and absolutely electrifying. Nico can feel the way your walls are fluttering around him as he drives into, and he knows it won’t take long to send you over the edge for the second time. 
The sound of skin slapping skin echoed off the marble countertops, but it was almost smothered entirely by the noises falling from your lips as Nico drives himself into you. He watches the way your tits bounce with each passing push into you, and the way your face twists in pleasure as he hits deeper into you. His other hand was gripping the back of your thigh, digging into the flesh so hard that it was sure to leave bruises behind.
“Look at you,” Nico taunts, his voice strangled as he feels himself stutter against you, “Taking me like the needy slut you are. Moaning my name for our neighbors to hear, letting everyone know who makes you feel this good.”
You only manage a slew of whimpers and whines in response, your brain foggy with only the thought of you how good he feels inside you. Your eyes are rolling in the back of your head as the coil in your stomach unravels, your moans morphing into screams as you release your juices all over Nico’s cock. He doesn’t cease his movements as he feels you come undone around him, but he knows he’s not far behind you as he drops his forehead to your shoulder and his hand falls from your neck to slap against the counter.
Incoherent words are pouring out of your mouth as Nico fucks you through your orgasm, the euphoric feeling magnifying as he places open mouthed kisses to your neck. You can feel his hips falter and stutter against you, and he can feel you purposely clench around him, and that’s what sends him spiraling into his own orgasm as his groans reverberate on your skin.
“Nico,” You cry out as his name, using your grip on his back to pull him closer to you as he carefully sinks his teeth into the skin above your collarbone.
You can feel him release himself inside of you, the warm, sticky liquid coating the inside of your thighs as he slowly ceases his motions while still deep inside of you. The two of you pant in sync, trying to catch your breath while you move your hands up to tangle with the hair on the nape of his neck. Nico’s hands had found purchase on your hips as he slightly pulls away from you.
“You’ve got marks from it all over you,” He smirks, his eyes filtering from your neck and down to your thighs, “Guess we need to get those washed off in the shower, yeah?”
not a fan of the ending but i hope you liked it <3
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babydollmarauders · 1 month
Text
THE START OF IT ALL — JACK HUGHES
part of the el!hughes au
summary: how jack and y/n (lovie) met, through the grace of quinn
warnings: bad parental guidance, small mention of body insecurities and anxiety. (4k words)
notes: a well overdue fic! i’m so thankful to you guys for being patient with me as i navigate writing in my hectic new reality of college and working full time! <3
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goosebumps trail my exposed skin, the chilling air of the practice rink nipping from my lack of sweater.
the sound of skates scraping against the ice rings in my ears, mingling with the bangs of sticks hitting against pucks and creating an oddly peaceful soundtrack for my meditation.
my feet are killing me.
capezio tights stretch across my legs, making them shimmer in the fluorescent lighting of the rink, and a black leotard hugs my body, neatly pulled together with a pink wrap skirt. ballet flats adorn my feet, my pointe shoes laying idly in my dance bag in the seat beside me as i watch the national development team practice.
it feels like so long ago that i came and watched my first practice; the one fateful day of september seeming light years away now. but in reality it was only a mere couple months ago that a group of us dance girls had decided to walk down the block and watch a practice.
Natalie and Thalia wanted to check out the guys, and me? i just didn’t want to be left out. but then watching one practice turned into watching two, and then three, and before i knew it, it became a regular occurrence. it didn’t matter anymore that the girls lost interest and no longer tagged along, in fact, i enjoyed the time spent alone.
this became my safe haven; no dance partners to critique my fouettés, no parents whispering in my ear that i’m not doing well enough in school or that i’m not practicing my dances enough or that i need to go on a diet because i don’t look as pristine or perfect in my leotard as the other girls do. just me and the sounds of several sixteen year old boys whipping pucks into the net and gliding around the ice.
as the piercing sound of a whistle slices through my peace, i know that afternoon practice has ended, my serene escape over until tomorrow.
as the team shuffles off the ice and back into their locker room, i revel in the silence for a little while, taking the moment to change from my flats to sneakers; the twenty-seven minute trek home will be a lot more terrain than the five minute one from the ballet studio to the rink, and a lot harder on my shoes.
pushing up from my seat, my hand wraps around the strap of my dance bag, slinging it over my shoulder as i slide through the rows of seats. my feet squeak against the cement steps, two at a time until i reach the exit floor.
pushing through the glass doors, i slip out into the crisp November air, ducking my head as i walk past a group of players that stand around their cars after practice, hair damp from post-practice showers. a few more players can be heard slamming the doors of their cars, obviously in much more of a rush to get home than their teammates.
it only takes five minutes of walking for me to become paranoid, a black GMC following behind me with every turn i make. my heart stutters with anxiety, my pace speeding as i attempt to shake the fear that rakes my body.
but as i speed up, so does the car, until finally the drivers window rolls down as they drive at a pace similar to my walking speed. inside is a teenage boy, a familiar face that i know i’ve seen on the ice of the usntdp rink.
“hey, you watch our practices.” it’s a statement, he knows i do, i assume a lot of them know,m. it’s kind of hard to miss the thirteen year old girl sitting alone in the stands every afternoon.
i stop, turning towards the boy as i nod in response.
“i always see you walking home, do you want a ride?” he asks before his eyes widen, stumbling over words, “wait, i just realized how that sounds— i’m not trying to kidnap you, i swear! you just live a few houses down, i figured i’d save you some time.”
i’m aware that my answer might be stupid and not very well thought out, but in this moment, i truthfully don’t care— the boy seems trustworthy, an odd sense of warmth radiating from him, so i nod again.
“yes, please.”
his head nods in the direction of the passengers side, unlocking the doors as he tells me to hop in; and i do so, slipping into the seat and hastily pulling the seatbelt across my body.
“i’m Quinn,” he introduces, a hand held out in front of me, “i play for the national development team.”
“i know,” i hum out, shaking his hand, “i’m y/n.”
Quinn steps lightly on the gas pedal, continuing the route to our apparently shared street.
“so, why do you come to the practices?” he questions, and though the question itself sounds a little judgy, his tone is soft, “at first i assumed maybe you were a sister, but then i’ve never seen you with any of the guys.”
i watch as the trees pass by in a blur through the window, my hands fidgeting with the strap of my dance bag that sits on the floor between my feet.
“it’s peaceful.” i confess, making him throw me a lopsided smirk mixed in with furrowed brows, “i don’t really get along with any of the girls in my ballet class, and my parents don’t get home from work until dinner time. its nice to just kill some time and listen to the sounds of the skates on the ice and the pucks hitting the net.”
Quinn hums as though he understands me, and for once, it actually feels like someone does. we’ve barely spoken to each other, we’ve only just met, but for once in my life, i feel as though someone isn’t judging me or about to tell me what i could do better.
“i get it.” he shrugs, “so, have you been a hockey fan, or are you just a little oddball and like the sounds?”
a small smile spreads across my lips, a laugh escaping at his joke, and Quinn garners an appearance of pride at making me laugh. his chest puffs out just slightly, his posture straightening and a smirk resting on his lips.
“i am,” i nod, before i realize i should clarify, “a hockey fan. i’m a hockey fan.”
it’s Quinn’s turn to chuckle now, eyes flickering towards me before they settle back on the road ahead, “but i get the feeling you are a little oddball, aren’t you? or at least maybe some other people think so.”
the vibe in the car turns stony, my body tensing.
“yeah,” i drop my eyes to my hands, finding great interest in the dirtied white color of my bag strap, “i prefer to keep to myself, you know? it feels like all everyone tells me is how i can do better. how i can perfect my dances, or how i’m so pretty but i would be so much prettier if i did this or that, or how despite straight A’s and a 4.0 GPA, there’s more i could do to get into a stupid ivy league that i don’t wanna go to-”
i suck in a deep breath, cutting off my rambles prematurely, because here i was dumping all my insecurities and problems on a boy three years my senior and who i’ve only just met.
“i’m sorry, those are some shitty people.” Quinn frowns, a hand tightening just slightly around the steering wheel.
“that was all my parents.”
“fuck,” he curses, glancing over at me quickly with wide eyes as we turn onto our street, “your parents said all that?”
i shrug, nodding my head, “it’s what a parent does, right? they criticize you to be the best you can be. the girls in dance aren’t much better.”
Quinn parks the car in front of what i assume is his billet house, turning in his seat to face me properly.
“a parent should guide you to be the best version of yourself, not criticize you until you become the person they want you to be.”
his words repeat in my head, my brows threading together as i hum in acknowledgment of his statement.
rather than truly respond, i unbuckle my seatbelt, pushing the door open as i gather my bag from the floor.
“thank you for the ride, Quinn. sorry for dumping all my problems on you.”
i don’t give him a chance to respond, hopping out of the car and slinging my bag over my shoulder as i shut the door.
i’m only one house away when i hear him yell, “hey! same time tomorrow?”
i spin around confused, finding him standing next to the car with his hockey bag slung over his own shoulder.
“what?”
“same time tomorrow! i’ll drive you home!” he smiles gently, before giving a small wave and heading into his house.
what the fuck just happened? did i just make a new friend?
***
my entire body aches, my toes in particular feeling incredibly sore due to the bruised skin that covers them, but i push through.
only a week until the spring performance and i still don’t feel that my solo is where it should be. my pointe shoes make my toes prick with pain, but over time, the pain turns into a stinging numbness.
my reflection stares back at me in the mirrored wall, a frustrated puff of air passing through my parted lips. my tutu caresses my arms as i let them fall to my sides, lowering back down to flat feet.
in the mostly empty building, i can hear the ring of the bell above the front entrance followed by muffled conversation approaching the private room i currently occupy.
i walk over to the chair that holds my things, my brows furrowing as i check the time. i still have five minutes until Quinn is due to pick me up. that gives me more than enough time to run through the solo once more.
walking over to the barre, i flex my feet a couple of times. but before i can begin to dance, i’m bombarded by the sound of conversation.
“what are we doing at a dance studio?” a male voice echoes through the building, grumbling in obvious annoyance.
“i told you, i have to pick up a friend.” i recognize that voice immediately; Quinn. my close friend of four months.
“a girlfriend?” i scrunch my nose at the other person’s question, part of me wanting to shout out that i can hear them.
“a girl that’s a friend, yeah. more like a little sister.” a heated blush rises to my cheeks, a smile spreading across my lips.
he thinks of me as a sister.
a knock sounds against the door of the private room before it creaks open, Quinn’s head popping in.
“hey, twinkle toes, you ready to go?” he smiles warmly, his eyes sparking with care as he eyes my outfit, “nice tutu.”
“you’ve seen this one before.” i giggle but it quickly dies off into a sigh as i think about how much work i still need to put into the dance, “give me one sec?”
“yeah, go for it.” he nods, “mind if i come in?”
“come on in.”
closing my eyes, i take a deep breath, tuning out the sounds of Quinn and his company entering the room. breathing out, i enter fifth position.
plié, passé relevé, back down to fifth position, my eyes open as i run through the rest of the dance, focusing on my core and watching myself in the mirror.
my sight flickers to Quinn, a smile on his face as he watches me dance, and for a moment i feel so proud of myself. but then my sights set on the boy beside him.
fluffy dirty blond hair mussed atop of his head, beauty marks dotting across his soft features, and beautiful blue eyes that watch my figure. he’s the prettiest boy i’ve ever seen.
i stutter in my steps, suddenly nervous and self conscious in front of the unfamiliar face, and before i can fix my form, i buckle under his stare; missing a step before my ankle twists, a sharp tinge of pain shooting up my leg as i stumble back down onto flat feet.
“shit.” i whimper, my facial features contorting in pain as i flex my ankle, gauging my pain level.
“are you okay?” Quinn stammers, eyes wide in concern, “what happened?”
“i’m fine,” i sigh. walking over to my bag, i pull my flats out and sit on the chair, beginning the process of taking off my pointe shoes, “i just got a little distracted.”
“distracted?” Quinn repeats, confusion plaguing his features before he looks back at his company, his lips quirking into a smirk, “y/n, this is my brother, Jack. Jack, this is y/n.”
my face heats under the heavy gaze of Jack’s blue eyes, his shoes tapping against the floor as he steps forward, extending a hand in front of me.
“hi.”
he smiles and it’s as though the whole world slowed, as though the universe was saying ‘look. look at him. perfection personified amidst your very eyes.’
“hi, it’s nice to meet you.” my hand slips into his, shaking lightly before i pull away, distracting myself by continuing my endeavors of changing my shoes.
Quinn and Jack share whispered huffs, mumbled words between the two of them as i slip my flats on, shoving my points shoes in my bag.
i stand now, removing my tutu and holding it carefully, leaving me in only my tights and leotard.
“i’m ready.” they both look over at me, Quinn nodding in acknowledgment before he turns and wordlessly begins walking out, leaving his brother and i to fall in line behind him.
“so how did you guys meet?” Jack asks me as we step out of the private room, his voice hushed.
“i go watch the development program practices a lot, Quinn saw me walking home and offered me a ride.”
“you like hockey?” he raises a brow as he looks over at me with a bright grin.
“mhm.” i hum, “i’ve watched it my whole life. my dad is a red wings fan.”
we exit the building, following Quinn to his car.
“good team.” Jack replies, his voice far off, eyes staring ahead as though deep in thought; and i assume that’s the end of our conversation until he speaks again, “i liked your dance. pretty.”
blood rushes to the apples of my cheeks and i bite my lip to hold back a smile, “thanks.”
i pull open the car door as Quinn unlocks it, climbing into the back seat so that Jack can sit up front with his brother. but i’m surprised when he joins me in the back, earning a look from Quinn.
it’s silent as Quinn starts the car, pulling out from the parking space and out of the lot.
“so,” Jack starts, gaining my attention once more, “you dance and you like hockey, what else should i know about you?”
i ponder the question for a moment before i look over at him, “there’s not much to tell. i’m an only child, i like taylor swift, i don’t know.”
“well what do you and your friends do for fun? do you wanna be a ballerina when you graduate?” he turns towards me, letting me know i have his full attention.
“i only have one friend.” i shrug, “Quinn. and he and i usually just hang out at his billet house or at the rink. he’s been teaching me to skate.
“as for the ballerina thing, i don’t think so. i love dancing, but i don’t want it to be my life.”
Jack hums, nodding his head in thought before his lips part again, “give me your phone.”
“what?”
“gimme your phone.” he makes a grabby hand, waiting for me to pull my phone out of my bag before i set it in his palm.
he turns it on, getting in easily with my lack of password, and quickly types something before handing it back.
“two.” he smirks.
“what?” my face punches in confusion.
“you have two friends now.” i look down at my phone, a new contact open with his number inputted in.
“okay.” i smile, not quite sure how to react to this gorgeous boy wanting to be my friend. it’s a new feeling that i’m not quite used to.
the car is silent as we pull onto Quinn and i’s street, but if i remember correctly, he’s staying at a hotel with his dad for the next couple of days.
“hey, twinkle toes.” Quinn calls out from the drivers seat.
“yeah?”
“you still coming to the game tomorrow?”
“i plan on it.” i tell him.
“alright, you’ll be sitting with my dad and Jack.” he informs me, “Jack, you good to wait for her at the entrance to take her to your guys’ seats?”
Quinn stops in front of my house, unlocking the doors.
“yeah, sure.” Jack confirms, watching as i exit the vehicle, “i’ll see you tomorrow.”
“see you tomorrow!” i smile. i shut the door, Quinn’s window rolling down as he calls out a goodbye, “bye, snuggles!”
i can hear Jack snort out a laugh as i walk away, a wheezed echo of “snuggles?!” coming from the back seat.
“shut it, Rowdy.” Quinn grumbles, rolling up his window before peeling away.
***
thirty minutes.
i spent thirty long minutes picking out my outfit for tonight. when i originally said i would go to Quinn’s game, i had just planned on wearing a USA Hockey sweatshirt and some leggings; but now that i’ve met Jack and know i’ll be with him? i refused to dress down so much.
descending the stairs of my house, my mother peers over the back of the couch, her hair in a tight bun and her laptop in her lap, slaving over a law case with files piled beside her.
“what are you so dressed up for?” she inquires, her glasses sitting low on the bridge of her nose.
“i have Quinn’s game tonight.” i walk around the couch to stand in front of her, my nikes shuffling along the area rug.
“i’m so proud of you.” she smiles, and for a moment i’m left to ponder where this could go, “you’re finally taking a care to how you present yourself.”
and there it is; the subtle jab. it can never be a real compliment, there’s always gonna be the underlying insult muddled in somewhere.
“are you going with friends?” she questions, her focus falling back on the open computer screen in her lap.
“kinda?” i’m not quite sure what to call Jack, he said we’re friends, but we also don’t actually know each other.
“kinda?” my mother echoes in wonder, looking back up at me as i wander into the kitchen to retrieve a water bottle.
“yeah. i met Quinn’s brother yesterday, the one a year older than me?” i start, “i’m sitting with him and their dad at the game. i don’t think i would call us friends really, but we exchanged numbers yesterday.”
my mother sighs, pushing her glasses atop of her head in order to pinch the bridge of her nose.
“does this boy play that brutal game too?”
my mind wanders back to what Quinn has told me about his family in the past, “yeah, they all do.”
“oh y/n, don’t get too wrapped up in these boys. they won’t do you any good.” she tells me, “find a nice boy, one who wants to do something substantial with his life.”
“we’re just friends, mom. it’s not like anything is gonna happen.”
“but you want it to.” she narrows her eyes, waving her finger towards me, “i can see it. mother’s intuition. don’t fall for this boy.”
who is she to tell me who i should fall for? she and dad barely even speak anymore. i wouldn’t even call what they have, love.
“it’s just going to a hockey game, mom. their dad is gonna be there too.” i sigh, “i gotta go.”
“how are you getting there?” she asks, “are they picking you up?”
“no,” i shake my head, “dad said he would drive me.”
her brows furrow, “your dad had to go into work.”
i gape at her, a blank look covering my face. i shouldn’t be shocked, this happens all the time. it’s the same reason i walk home from ballet, or why i’ve come to rely on Quinn to pick me up for school. but somehow, it still always feels like a cut to the heart.
my mother sighs, shutting her laptop and rising from her seat, “i’ll drive you. come on.”
“you would think he would try and spend more time with you. but it’s always work with that one. work then family.” she mutters, ranting to herself as she slips her shoes on, grabbing her keys from the dish on the entryway table.
i fall in line slowly behind her, dreading this car ride already; because it appears it’s one of those days. the days where my mother will do anything to appear better in my eyes than my father. including talking down about him to me in hopes to make me more upset with him than i already am.
and i was correct. the entire drive was spent with me sitting silently in the passengers seat, watching my surroundings pass by as she went on and on about all of the things my father has done wrong in the past week.
i couldn’t get out of the car quick enough, nearly breaking the car door off its hinges as i throw it open. calling out a goodbye to my mother and assuring her that yes, Quinn would be driving me home afterwards, i slam the door shut and jog towards the arena entrance.
slowing down upon the sight of the glass doors, my body lights up, butterflies flutter in my stomach as i spot Jack in the lobby just through the doors. he wears jeans and a gray hoodie, converse tied to his feet, and he looks down at his phone, glancing up every few moments.
when his eyes land on me through the clear glass, a friendly smile spreads across his lips, slipping his phone into his pocket and taking a few steps towards the door, propping it open for me.
“hey!” he chimes as i reach the entrance, “puck should drop soon! i was gonna text you to check in but, i didn’t wanna push anything.”
my heart rate picks up, my cheeks burning at the idea of seeing Jack’s name pop up on my phone, “you can text me any time.”
Jack’s smile drops into a smirk, his blue eyes sparkling with mischief and amusement, “i’ll keep that in mind.”
“our seats are this way.” Jack begins pushing through the lingering people in our way, many not paying any attention to the people in their way as they try and navigate towards their own seats.
for a second, i’m pushed away from him, worry flooding my mind as i think of how i’ll try and find our seats if i lose him. but then he looks back at me, his eyes finding mine, and he must see the anxiety that fills my body, because it’s not a moment later that his hand finds mine.
his hand slips into mine, interlacing our fingers as he gently tugs me closer to him as he walks, a reassuring quirk to his lips, “i got you. it’s okay.”
and somehow, all my worry melts away, just like that. for some reason, i feel like he’s telling the truth; it’ll be okay.
there’s something about Jack’s presence that calms my nerves. that makes me feel okay. and it sounds utterly insane because i’ve known him for all of twenty-four hours, but i feel like can truly trust him.
as we reach our seats, Jack sitting next to his dad with me beside him, he still never lets go of me. instead, he rests our hands on his thigh, glancing over at me to gauge my reaction before he speaks.
“you okay?”
and finally, for once, i’m telling the truth, “yeah.”
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heavenlyvision · 2 months
Text
Distracted
Pairing: Simon Riley (Ghost) x afab!reader
Wc: 1.3k
Not my usual content, I'm gonna apologise for this but I'm really not sorry.... so... sorry </3 Please don’t stone me, I just want to fuck the big, masked man :<
Warnings: 18+ only, smut, pwp, established relationship, vaginal fingering, p in v penetration, cockwarming, no use of pronouns or y/n, i think that's all !!!
MDNI | SMUT UNDER CUT
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Simon coming home was always something you looked forward to, the days following where you get to spend time together in domestic bliss are memories you treasure when he inevitably has to leave again. It’s a cycle; one you have both gotten used to and never fully adjust to. For example, entering the kitchen and seeing him there makes your heart race with excitement and happiness to see him but also slight shock from forgetting someone else lives with you. Having him home is always better though, you wouldn’t trade these days for the world.
This time round, you had finally gotten him to cave into your will and watch one of your favourite movies with you. One you had seen so often that you could recite back monologues from it in your sleep. Normally, your eyes would be glued to the screen, ecstatic and waiting for each of your favourite scenes to play but you also wanted to watch Simon’s reactions to them.
This has created an unforeseen issue though because your boyfriend is so… distracting. He’s not doing anything, not anything outwardly but he’s in his casual clothes, legs spread wide on the couch and carefully watching the screen, seemingly intrigued by what you’ve put on.
Your head is clouded by thoughts of him, he’s been home for a few days now and you’ve still not been intimate. Too content to be in each other’s presence to have sex but you’re feeling it now. The need that claws up your spine, his absence always has you craving him but you usually calm down when he’s home and you can hug him, touch him.
Even though you’ve been together for a couple years now, you still hesitate to reach out to him, too afraid to upset him or do something wrong – you never have and he’s always been reciprocal to your touch but you still worry. Plus, he genuinely looks invested in the movie and you don’t want to start something when he’s having a nice time. That doesn’t stop you from subtly watching him or slightly rubbing your thighs together though, your need for him slowly overwhelming you the longer you take glances at him.
Simon sighs beside you, he doesn’t look at you as he asks, “What’s wrong, what are you fidgeting for?”
His deep voice shoots straight through you, your thighs clench together, “Nothing, sorry.”
He looks to you out the corner of his eye, his gaze runs over you for a moment, taking you in, observing your body language. He catches on fairly quickly, always knowing how you’re feeling just from a glance, “Come here.” His hand pats his lap.
You shuffle closer but hesitate to get on him, when you don’t immediately sit on his lap, his hands grab you and position you so you’re straddling him. His large hands skate up and down your thighs, caressing your skin.
They move higher, pushing the hem of your shirt up, revealing your lack of shorts. He doesn’t say anything but he smiles smugly and raises his eyebrow at you slightly.
You go to defend yourself, “I’m more comfortable like this.”
“I said nothing,” his hands move back down your thighs again, pulling at your skin as he goes.
You squirm against him, “I know what you were thinking.”
He breathes out an airy chuckle, “I’m certain you didn’t, love.” His fingers tickle against your inner thighs, trailing higher.
You sigh at his touch, “I missed you…”
“Mmm, I can tell,” he comments as his thumb presses into the wet spot on your panties.
A light gasp pulls from you at his touch, your hips stuttering slightly, seeking the friction.
He continues talking, his thumb putting minimal contact on your clit, “I was getting real into the movie, you know?” He says that but his eyes are glued to his hand playing with you through your panties.
You feel bashful, “Sorry…” He pulls his hand away and you want to complain but you feel bad for ruining the movie for him.
“Don’t need you to be sorry,” his tone is gruff, his hand reaches under his waist band and pulls his hard cock out, “Need you to sit on me.” He groans as his hand starts to stroke himself, his cock painfully erect, tip leaking profusely.
“Si–”
“–Lovie, need you to wrap your pretty cunt around me,” His eyes are dazed, not really focused on anything right now, too caught up thinking about your slick heat swallowing him.
You shuffle closer to him and sit up on your knees, his fingers push your panties to the side. He lets out a low groan as he runs his fingers through your wetness, they slip over your pussy, he’s distracted now, eyes intently watching your cunt and how you react to him. His finger slips into you with some resistance, the stretch eased by how slick you are for him.
You almost buckle over; your hands reach out to his shoulders to hold yourself up. He tries to supress it but you can see the smallest hints of a smirk on his lips, he looks to you, “Gone too long, was I?” It’s not really a question, especially since he’s not done talking, “Fuck– you’re so goddamn tight, Mm gonna have to fuck you open…” He trails off, not because he’s done talking but because he’s fucking his finger into you and has gotten distracted again.
The wet noises that your cunt makes for him is obscene, it has you shying away from him and wanting to hide but his hand speeds up, wanting to hear more. You’re whimpering quietly, trying to hold in the noises he’s pulling from you effortlessly.
You gasp out to him, trying to convey your desire, “I need –ah–”
He hums at you, “Mmm, I know…”
His finger pulls from you and you can’t help the pathetic whine the loss has you making, he doesn’t even try to hide his smile this time, shamelessly grinning at your need. You pout at him but that just seems to further his enjoyment.
“Go on, lovie, take what you need,” His hands hold onto your hips, letting you take your time.
You take him in your hand and his chest stutters slightly, your pussy hovers over him. You’re nervous to take him, it’s been a while since you last had him and it’s always a little daunting to take him fully after he’s come back. He’s being ever so patient though, his fingers dig into your hips but he doesn’t move you, he continues to let you do this at your own pace. 
You notch his tip at your pussy hole, your stomach flutters with anticipation, slowly you start to take him. It’s slow and it takes you a bit to take his tip, Simon is groaning under you, his fingers digging into your flesh, barely holding onto sanity.
“You need to relax,” his voice is strained, his thumb moves to your clit, rubbing circles into it, trying to help you take him easier.
You sigh on him, your pussy sinking down further, he chokes slightly at the feeling of your tight, hot cunt taking more of him. His head falls to the back of the couch, the way you continue to take him as him seeing stars, the last time he got off being too long ago.
You moan his name quietly when you take all of him, his pelvis pressed to your clit, you grind down into him, his hands facilitate you. Groans get stuck in his throat, his mind swimming with thoughts about you and how tight you are.
Suddenly, he stops your movements, hands holding you completely still on him, he looks you in the eye, “You’re gonna sit here and keep my cock warm while I finish this movie you love so much.”
You whine at him, “Wait, what?”
“Should’ve waited till it was finished, love,” he smirks at you but he’s one hundred percent serious.
He’s going to have you crying on his dick before the film is over, you just know it.
𖦹₊⊹
Thank you for reading :3 i hope you enjoyed (if you're one my mk followers, please be nice to me, I LIKE THE BIG MASKED MAN, SUE ME)
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rodolfoparras · 9 months
Text
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Thinking of all the ways you can be intimate with the Spot | 18+, MINORS DNI
Content tags: use of strap ons,
Ever since the accident happened and his body changed form, Spot never thought he’d be able to be intimate with someone.
However everything changed when he met you who was rather experimental in the bedroom and never afraid to try something new.
So it was to no surprise when you came up to him one day and told him about this idea that you had.
It all started when the two of you were getting intimate. He had you bent over, fingers thrusting into your aching hole and murmuring about how he wishes he could feel like he used to before.
Ever since then you’ve been thinking about ways to make it happen and one day you came across an article stating that strap ons were a great addition to the bedroom for all parties involved, thus giving you the idea that you should try giving him a blow job while he’s wearing a strap.
He’s sitting on the edge of the bed, head tilted in anticipation with a strap hanging between his legs
“You sure this will work ?” Spot asks and looks down to where you’re sitting on the floor, voice careful and unsure as he fidgets with his long lanky fingers.
You shrug in response “honestly? I don’t know but it’s worth a shot“
Despite taking a new form you can still tell by his body language that he’s nervous.
“We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to Jonathan” you say as you squeeze his thigh in reassurance.
“It’s not that I don’t want to. It’s just that I haven’t done this in a while and it’s much different from what I’m used to, you know? “ Spot says whilst shuffling around on the covers.
You did know.
The color of the strap was a stark contrast to the color of his skin, the size wasn’t something he was used to having and on top of that he was guaranteed not to feel a thing.
You nod your head in understanding and smile up at him. “How about this; if you really want to do this we’ll give it a go and if it turns out that it’s not your thing we forget about it. You and me can order pizza watch some movie and cuddle on the couch instead yeah?”
Spot takes a moment to consider it before he nods in agreement and you see the tension leaving his body as he relaxes on the bed.
Although his body can no longer feel the way it once did, he appreciates the way you trail kisses down his chest, the way your hands gently rub circles into his thighs and the way your eyes stay glued to his face, making sure he’s alright with everything that you’re doing.
The sheer attentiveness of it all has him lolling hishead back, chest heaving as his big hand gently drags along the expanse of your back.
“Still alright?” you ask as you pause your ministrations, voice careful and gaze gauging his every reaction.
Spot nods in response ”It’s really nice “ he says, voice shaky and breaths labored as his limbs twitch from your touch “keep going please”
As you kiss and caress him, you stumble upon one of the many spots decorating his body.
“Has anyone tried touching them?” you ask, eyeing what seemed to be a bottomless pit with curiosity.
It takes him a moment to respond, brain still affected by your touch “Only by accident “ he says, voice slightly cracking as he turns to the spot that you’re eyeing.
“May I?”
“You want to touch it?” He says, voice full of wonder as he adjusts himself on top of the covers.
You nod in response, still eyeing the spot.
“Alright, go ahead “
Spot doesn’t have to tell you twice as your hands sprawl over the expanse of his thighs, curios fingers skating over spotted skin as your eyes eaglery drink in the sight of the many dots on his body.
Some are big, some are small, some edges are very frail and some are very sharp. You trace each and every one of them with your finger as you gauge his reaction. “How does that feel?”
“Ticklish” he chuckles and you can’t help but smile at his reaction.
“What if I did this?” You ask as you slowly inch your hand closer to his inner thigh, fingers experimentally tracing around the edge of a spot before sliding two fingers inside.
“Oh-oh- woah” Spot gasps in surprise and falls back onto the bed “sorry sorry so sorry”
“That's alright, maybe it’s better if you’re laying down instead” you say with a chuckle, never once stopping your caresses “does this feel okay?”
He tries to form words, tongue stumbling over syllables as he squirms.“feels - feels good uh yeah good fuck -how are you doing that” he squeaks out as he gently ruts his hips against your hand.
It’s unlike anything you’ve experienced before. You can hear the whirling sounds coming from the portal, and you can feel the way the cold air caresses your bare skin but you can’t see a single thing. So you do your best to navigate your fingers in what seemed to be an endless pit, gently moving them in a back and forth motion as you keep your eyes trained on him.
“This?” You ask as you curl your fingers experimentally.
“Fuck” he cries out before he bites down on his arm, thigh twitching under you touch.
“Still alright?” You say with a smile on your face.
“Yeah, yeah still good” he pants, nodding his head, limb still twitching under your hand.
You give a few more experimental thrusts to his hole, watching the way he gets worked up only to suddenly pull away from the spot.
Spot whimpers at the loss of contact but you’re quick to console him with a squeeze to his thigh.
“I’d like to try something. Tell me if you want me to stop” you say to him as you inch closer to the strap hanging between his legs. “And keep your eyes on me okay?”
“Yeah alright -“
You wrap your lips around the strap as you sink down on it before you plunge your fingers back inside the hole on his inner thigh, doing your best to match the pace of your mouth with the movements of your fingers.
Spot gasps in surprise at the sight, back arching off the bed and heels digging into the bedroom floor for support. “Fuck oh- fuck” he cries out, voice full of wonder as he rocks his hips against your face “it’s like- it’s like you’re actually doing it”he whines out again , hands fumbling to grasp onto something and settling for clawing at the mattress.
You continue your movements, and you even tease him by pulling out your fingers only to trace the edge of the hole before plunging them back inside of the portal.
“Oh god- “ he sobs as you continue your ministrations.
“You sound so pretty you know? Love to see what more sounds you can make while I fuck your holes” you say as you pull away from the plastic, fingers still thrusting inside his hole.
“Don’t- don’t say stuff like that” Spot whines as he buries his face in his hands but still keeping a watchful eye as you drag your tongue over the plastic.
“Why? You don’t like it?” you ask with a smile on your face, already knowing the answer to your question. “Jonathan answer me “ you say in warning as you crook your fingers.
He sobs at that, fingers digging into the hole on his face as he furiously bucks his hips against your hand.
“I do” he wails, as he continues to rock his hips . “Feels so good feels so good feels as if - as if “ he pants, unable to finish his sentence as he starts clawing at the mattress again, slowly losing control of his senses
You sink down on the plastic again as you continues crook your fingers inside the hole on his body.
His head shifts from side to side so fast he looks like a moving blur, too far gone in pleasure to be able to look at you anymore as he rocks his hips against your face, the movement so sudden it causes you to gag around the plastic.
You pull away from him with a cough and blink back in surprise as you wipe your mouth.
Spot springs up so fast he almost tumbles over in the process. “Oh god- god, I’m so sorry. Are you alright?”
“Yeah don’t worry about that, just a bit surprised “ you say with a soft smile on your face, swallowing down the discomfort that was making itself known at the back of your throat.
“So- sorry” Spot says again. “Here let me-“
You just shake your head before you gently push him back down on the bed and sink down on him again. Your fingers return to the spot on his body, making sure the pace of your fingers matches with the pace of your mouth to keep the illusion going.
His hand goes back to your head, gently cradling it this time as he lightly rocks his hips against your face. “This is - this is so nice - thank you so much for doing this”
It’s clear that he’s trying to restrain himself, body shaking from restraint as he shoves fingers into the hole on his face to muffle the whines and whimpers escaping him.
As much as you appreciate the gesture you don’t want him to hold back and you make it known with a tap to his thigh.
His fingers fall from his face, body going completely still as he turns to look at you instead. He must’ve thought you wanted to stop because he goes to pull away but you’re quick to put a hand on hip, halting his movements completely.
You relax your mouth around the strap, body going slack as you guide his hips against your face.
Spot gasps at your movements, lanky fingers clumsily grabbing onto your hair as he guides your head all the way down to the base. “Fuck oh fuck please -“
What started off as a controlled pace quickly turns into a feverish mess and he wails, blunt nails dragging along your neck as he slowly loses control of his senses.
As you continue to sink down on the plastic and fingering the portal on his body , you notice the holes expanding in size, and even moving around
You’re amazed, eyes wide and mouth halting its moments as your fingers trace the many shapes of the holes of his body.
All of a sudden he stops responding, body going completely still and you turn your gaze towards him.
“Jonathan? Is everything alright?” You say, worry dripping from your voice as you pull away from the strap.
He’s got his fingers shoved back into the hole on his face, an attempt at silencing the whines and whimpers escaping him that only seem to grow louder as the spots morphe and move around on his body.
“Nonono don’t stop don’t stop please please“ he urges, hand clumsily grabbing onto your hair as he shoves you back between his legs.
Oh
Now that's a reaction you’re familiar with and you quickly wrap your lips around the plastic dick as you sink down on it, fingers plunging back into his hole and continuously curling inside of it.
You see the way the spots on his body continue to shift and change, and you feel the way his fingers yank onto your hair as he frantically rocks his hips against your face.
“I think I’m-I think I’m —“ Spot mutters into the palm of his hand before he comes with a cry, back arching off the bed as the spots on his body finally stop moving.
It’s unlike anything you’ve seen before, an orgasm accommodated to his newest form and you can’t help but want to see more.
Spot flops back down onto the bed, hand thrown over his eyes as he exhales heavily
“That was- that was woah”
“Should we do that again?” You ask with a smile on your face.
834 notes · View notes
hungharrington · 7 months
Note
i just want to sit on steve’s back and kiss all of his moles😔
this is so real. ur so me
Steve’s on his front, splayed across your bed, and dozing like a cat in the sun. Your friends have just left so it’s understandable he’s a bit wiped but still, you can’t help by fidget. You’ve been waiting to get him alone all day.
A curtain of sunlight hits your window, warm rays bouncing around your room, lighting it. It’s really warm today. You’ve been revelling in it but now you’re beginning to curse it for making your boyfriend so sleepy.
Your eyes fall back onto Steve’s figure. He’s taking deeper breathes now and you know if you leave him alone for another 10 minutes, there’s a really good chance he’ll start snoring. Adorable and funny as it is to you, you do sort of want to spend time with him while you can.
You focus back on him before you, gaze spying the sly stretch of skin on display for you, his white tee pushed up to show off the small of his back. It’s all tan skin and lots and lots of moles.
In an impulse decision, you’re pushing up and shuffling over— lifting your leg to straddle his hips. Steve’s sleep gets shaken off with a grunt as you settle down, sitting on his butt. It’s so comfy.
“Honey,” His words come out tiredly and he moves one of his hands back, not bothering to turn his head. His hand finds the bend in your knee and he gives you a little squeeze. “S’what’s up? Why ya sitting on me, you big goof?”
At the same time he speaks, his fingers try to give you a little tickle, scratching over the sensitive part of your thigh, just to see if he can get you to laugh. You squirm and laugh, so mission accomplished, before batting his hand away.
“I just…” You start. Your little hands press into the skin above his tailbone and Steve sucks in a tiny breath.
Slowly, so slowly, your fingers skate up— pushing the fabric higher and higher, til it bunches around his shoulder blades. You glow hotly inside as Steve gives a shiver, the muscles in his back rippling as he does.
“You just what?” Steve teases, his voice muffled against your duvet. He still hasn’t lifted his head.
“Just wanna count.” You murmur, bending over and pressing your lips against one of his moles. You hum, your kiss not chaste, and when you pull away, you say lowly, “One.”
You kiss another, two inches to the left. Steve shifts beneath you again, his body struggling to lie with the complete fondness you’re doting him with.
“Two.”
Another kiss, another mole.
“Three,” You smile when you realise Steve’s holding his breath. “Four-five-six.” You kiss along a line of freckles in quick succession and it’s enough to make Steve laugh breathily, finally remembering to breathe.
His hand finds your knee again, fingers curling to hold it. You have a feeling it’s just as much for him as it is for you.
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luvring · 4 months
Text
UNCONVENTIONAL DATES
gn!reader | gojo, geto, yuta, nobara, itadori
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“satoru gojo if you don’t get your ass to figuring out a puzzle i’ll kill you.”
your boyfriend stares at you from the velvet armchair, leg hanging over the side and cheek resting against his knuckles. “aw, baby, relax. we still have so much time.”
“i knew i shouldn’t have trusted you to pick our date.” you huff and turn away from him.
it wasn’t that satoru couldn’t think of a good date idea. he’s brought you to countless places across the city—a roof to stargaze (he crossed his heart and hoped to die if he got you in trouble for it), a hole in the wall cafe with some of the best desserts you’ve ever tried, a vintage store that smelled of old books and sweet coffee, and had a fluffy balinese cat who would lay on its back and stare at customers, waiting to be pet.
but this time, in an escape room where he’s barely grazed the row of evidently suspicious paintings on the wall, and answered “hm, that’s a good question,” or something like it to three of your guesses, you wonder if you should signal the employees through the security cameras to let you, and only you, out of here.
“y’aren’t having fun?” he teases.
you roll your eyes, hard, hoping he could sense it even with your back turned to him. “i have to figure out some curse by a guy named frederick, alone. what do you think?”
and then you hear him stand up, hear the sound of him tapping, shuffling?—you’re not really sure, something, before coming closer.
his steps are slow, purposely louder than usual so that you can hear him travel all the way until he’s right behind you. then satoru, in typical satoru fashion, holds the key to the vault you’ve been trying to get into for five minutes in front of your face, before leaning over your shoulder with a grin. “how about now?”
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“top 10 people i’d break up with my boyfriend for?” geto reads out the title of the slideshow before you can.
“hear me out.”
“you know i’m your boyfriend, right?”
“no way, really?” you ask in faux shock before giving him a look. “be quiet and listen, i’m presenting.”
“who you’d break up with me for?”
“number one.” you ignore him and switch slides. suguru doesn’t miss how your lips twitch, wanting to smile at your own cube slide transition you apparently took the time to apply.
“no one,” you say easily. “i love my boyfriend despite how annoying he is, and i would never ever think of breaking up with him. also, if he tried to break up with me, i’d throw up and cry to make him feel guilty and remember all the good times we’ve had and why he’s dating me in the first place.”
your boyfriend in question leans further back into the couch and lets his chin rest in his palm as he hums thoughtfully. “happy to know you’re willing to throw up and cry and beg, but—”
“i didn’t say beg.”
suguru says your name—quietly, smoothly, with an amused lilt at the end despite your slideshow and what he’s about to ask next. “you know i can see there’s 12 more slides, right?”
a beat passes.
he’s still watching you intently as you finally smile.
“of course. so for the real number one—”
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“can you just fall over once so i can feel better about myself?” you huff with slightly bent knees, and fingers intertwined with yuta’s while he slowly skates in front of you despite, apparently, never having had the chance to try ice skating before this.
the sun keeps you warm despite the chill as a few other couples skate around the rink—some mirroring you, others faring better.
yuta blinks, and then he lifts his head just enough so you can see how the corner of his mouth twitches past his scarf. “would it really make you feel better?”
“i dunno, maybe. try eating some ice first.”
“okay.”
and before you can say anything, his hands leave yours as he falls onto the ice with an ‘oof!’
“yuta!” his name leaves your lips in panic. the sudden disappearance of support makes your legs wobble, and your skates dig into the ice before you make your way toward him.
your boyfriend groans, his cheeks flushed, though whether from the cold or embarrassment, you’re not sure. you feel guilty for laughing a little when you speak, “i was joking, oh my god, are you okay?”
his hands move instinctively as he goes to push himself up, before he quickly realizes how cold ice is against bare skin. “yeah, ouch—ah, cold, cold! i know—i just thought i’d be better at fake falling.”
he winces as you awkwardly help him up, standing still as you give him a once over and rewrap his scarf around his neck. you joke softly, “you know what? seeing my boyfriend hurt himself didn’t make me feel better. sorry for asking.”
despite the slight ache in his tailbone, yuta manages to laugh. “you know what would make me feel better?”
“what?”
his face, already tinted red, flushes more as he realizes what he’s asked. but it’s too late now, and he probably deserves it—”...a kiss?”
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an ad for a vintage market had popped up a few days ago, and nobara had excitedly agreed to go when you sent it to her. (she was slightly less excited at the thought of waking up early to get there first, but the competition, fashion, and “getting to buy rich people’s things” were enough to motivate her.)
you’re pulling at the sleeves of the coat you’ve found when she pops up beside you, flaunting a grin and pair of shades on her face. “do you think i look cool or super pretentious?”
you smile back. “depends on if you think i look cool or super pretentious.”
she taps her chin and hums before looking you up and down, exaggerating the head movement so you can tell despite not being able to really see her eyes.
“want me to spin?” you ask. but before she can even answer, you turn 180° and lift your arms, letting her soak it in. she watches as you walk around the stall, careful not to go too far so it didn’t seem like you were stealing.
“maybe if you were older and lived in a house with four cars or you were gojo, super pretentious.”
the mention of gojo makes you snicker. “...but?”
nobara’s smiling at you when you turn to face her with eyebrows raised. she lifts her hand to shoot you a thumbs up. “you’re not, so i say you look super cool.”
her face suddenly gets serious. “but seriously, what do you think about these shades? cool? pretentious? gojo?”
“what would you do if i said gojo?”
“break up with you.”
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“i never took you as a cat person.”
“neither did i, i don’t think i am? but look how cute he is. his name is waffle,” itadori says without looking at you, focused on the fluffy grey cat in his arms.
waffle purrs and rubs his head against yuuji’s chin, who lets out a noise between a whimper and coo in response.
you huff. “coming here with you was a bad idea.”
he gasps. “don’t say that in front of waffle.”
“because now i want to adopt a cat,” you continue, laughing a little at yuuji’s tightened grip around waffle.
he makes a noise of agreement and pouts. “but if we didn’t come, we’d have never met waffle.”
“and porridge?”
“and russell.”
you snicker at the thought of russell—an orange cat in one of the other rooms who was one of those cats that really looked like he didn’t have a thought in his head. maybe because he was orange. “yeah, you know what, fair enough.”
yuuji decides to put waffle back in his kennel, but keeps playing by pulling the pipe cleaner tied to one of the cage bars up and down, getting him to jump up and grab it. “ahh, hi waffle, you’re so cute. i hope whoever adopts you is the best person ever.”
the sight of them playing makes you smile and pull out your phone. turning on your camera and pointing it toward yuuji who tilts his head and laughs, eyes lighting up as his new friend flops onto his back, you think it’s as good a time as any to get a new lockscreen.
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surprise.! Get jujutsu kaisen'ed. i've never done this format i had no idea how to divide them so i just. used dividers. hm. i'll figure out if i like that or not later. no i didn't have anyone in mind for geto's slideshow. didn't know who wouldn't be... weird.
@danyisapingu @lilithlunas @anime-ships-gay @todorokiskitten @curiouslilbeast @fiona782 @cvhenia @mitskiologist @libbyistired @milkbreadforlife @sirimirihiro @aria-chikage
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