[Chris Crabtree x Reader (!!WARNING SPICY 18+!!)]

CHRISSY WAKE UP!

shooty shoot! you've just gotta return this baseball. your dainty little toes carry you as fast as you can be carried by tiny little toes down the street. you pause- your instincts say to return the baseball ASAP but then your toe dips in a puddle. you gaze down and see your small reflection dainty as ever, swimming in the puddle as if in a pool, a lap pool perchance. but then another revelation pops as if kahoot into your dollette mind. you don't look sexy! you look like a cunt- but not in a sexy way, a nasty way because female anatomy is ugly. Realizing that this would never satisfy crabtree, you turn on your patite heel and head homeword bound to da bridge. the bridge is reminiscent of the bridge in the three billy goats gruff, as in the bridge the hobbit lives under, except you are NOT a troll, because you are beautiful. HAHA GET TROLLED! but srsly, u NEED your beauty sleep (7.5 hours and sweet dreams to top it off...speaking of topping) if ur gonna see chrissy again. oh chrissy, i wonder if he's awake right now. chrissy. wake up. no, pull up. to da bridge. you fall into slumber.

Two days later, you awaken. you feel hungry enough to eat a horse! but to maintain a coquette figure you simply devour a blackberry and 3.7 crumbs of whole wheat toast on your way out of the door. your stomach tightens in a sailors knot as you prance towards the basebol field... will he be there, waiting on you like the next carti album? "Time flies when you're having fear" you think as you suddenly come in the stadium. your lactose volcanoes jiggle and bounce as you skip down the stairs. you know intuitively that because there's not a baseball game today you cannot sell your nut for coin. instead you must mop the dug out. the dusty dusty dugged dug out. those hallowed halls hold memories of legendary cleats past and future. of manly grunts, and waiting patiently to go up and play bat. everyone says leave only footsteps, take only pictures, but you can still smell the residue of sweat on the wood as you approach the big bad doors. you reach out a slender finger and grasp the brass knob, rusted under your grip. as it rotates you feel your eyes roll back in your head. you feel something heavy in your blouse pocket , it weighs down your left breast. this isn't a weight on your shoulders, it's a weight on your bountiful blimps. it's the crgstal baseball from the night prior. your breath catching, you slide the sliding door open.

when you open the door two things happen. you see Crabtree, and Crabtree does not see you. what you do see is a sight to behold. the back of his back is facing you, twisting about in an erotic manor. you moan out of instinct and cover your mouth. but being so small and petite no one heard your moan due to the hertz per sound wave being too miniscule for a human ear to detect. your eyes widen in shock and surprise as you notice a curvy figure as in bodyodyody as in meg the stallion 🐴. is your chrissy in the vicinity of a FEMALE? her hair is long and lucius and blonde, and her hips don't lie. you feel yourself falling to the ground and get back up again. rise up, rise like the day. he's making out with another girl?you thought you were the perfect duo bound by blood (2racha). you are as sad as a really sad girl. you flee the dugout, but you trip and fall. you accidentally throw the crystal baseball at the other girls crotch through chrissy's legs. as your baby piggies tap the earth, you hear a voice.

"oh my fuck- y/n?!"