#Like the houses were suddenly close together

[st7rnioioss]

bestfriend!chris x inexperienced!reader lore fic? like pre smutty smut?

BSF!CHRIS x INEXPERIENCED!READER ₊˚⊹ ᰔ

˚𝜗𝜚 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬... fluff, swearing, light angst, mentions of blood, mentions of reader being insecure and bullying, kissing, p in v, protected sex (short description).

♡ ˖ ࣪ ◟ the summer of 2008

the sun was hot and blinding in the backyard of chris’s house, the sun hat you had on nicely covering you from any sunburns.

you were sitting in the sandpit, legs sprawled out to each side, rummaging around with a cup. your curious eyes kept track of how the sand would ooze out, landing in the spot right in front of you, creating a pyramid-shape of sand.

“hey, i want that one,” you heard chris say from next to you, messily reaching over to grab the cup from your hands.

you were confused at first, looking over at him playing with it after he’d snatched it right from your grip. a pout formed on your lips, furrowing your brows while reaching back for the cup.

“no, chris! it’s mine, i was using it first!” you whined, grabbing the cup from him. chris groaned, standing up to move in front of you, but you held the cup close to your chest, turning your body away from him.

“go away, chris! i had it!” you protested again, but suddenly he sat down, his small hands reaching the other edge of the blue cup.

“give it to me! it’s my turn! you’re done using it, let go of it!” he whined back, pulling on the plastic, but not strongly enough to take it from your grasp.

“chris, i said stop!” you cried, growing frustrated and annoyed by chris and how he didn’t seem to understand you were using it first, how he’d basically stolen it from you.

“i said let go!” he yelled with his childish voice, obviously mad from how his brows knitted together, seemingly not caring about the fat tears starting to prick in the corners of your eyes.

all that went down, until you let go, not wanting to fight further. but chris was still pulling hard, causing him to accidentally hit himself right in the face with the cup, the corner cutting the edge of his eyebrow right open.

“ow!” he yelled, immediately losing his grip of the cup, which you carefully reached for to take it back, all while curiously watching his face twist up in pain.

hot tears ran down his chubby cheeks, his small fingers running across the bleeding wound while he cried from the stinging and ache.

“i’m sorry, chris. i didn’t mean to do that..” you mumbled while looking at him with a perplexed and puzzled look, your wide and confused eyes stuck on his eyebrow that was trickling with blood.

♡ ˖ ࣪ ◟

later that day, chris was sitting in his living room with his brothers, all sucking on a popsicle while engrossed in some cartoon on the tv, a bandaid stuck to chris’s brow.

you had been out in your own backyard after your ran home when chris’s mom told you he was gonna cool down for a minute, picking some daisies for him, pinching them between your fingers.

the doorbell then rang in the sturniolo household, and chris’s mom opened it to find you standing there, shyly waving at her.

“hi, mary-lou,” you smiled, looking behind her to see if chris was sitting on the couch, which he was. “can i play with chris?”

you looked back up at her with big eyes, showing her the flowers you’d picked out.

“oh, sure sweetheart. he’s right in there,” his mom opened the door wider for you with a smile, noticing you seemed somewhat eager to get chris. hastily you made your way to the living room, waving at matt and nick.

“hi chris,” you smiled, crawling up into the couch to sit next to him, shuffling between him and nick.

chris glanced at you, before his eyes made their way to the flowers in your hand, looking somewhat curious.

“hi. why do you have flowers?” he questioned, tilting his head to the side, his brows furrowed. his lips and the corners of his mouth were red from the popsicle, clearly sticky from the sugar too.

“they’re for you. sorry about your eyebrow,” you held your hand out for him to take the flowers, somewhat squished and missing a few petals, but still—it’s the thought that counts.

chris looked down at them in his own hand when he grabbed them, before placing them on the coffee table in front of you to keep them safe.

he gave you a faint smile, before he looked at the lollipop that was melting down his tiny fingers.

“do you want a popsicle?” and that was all you needed to hear in order to know you were forgiven, smiling widely with a frantic nod, swinging your legs back and forth.

“mom, can i grab another popsicle?” he turned to look up at his mom, who was a little too busy with her camera, snapping a few pictures of the two of you.

♡ ˖ ࣪ ◟

sometime in 2017

“mom, you’re not being fair!” you yelled from your room with a pillow clutched to your chest, your mom standing on the other side of the door.

you had a frown stuck to your lips, your brows furrowed in frustration, as well as tears welling in your waterline. you looked down at the small bag you had packed to bring for a sleepover with those few friends you had, only for your mom to tell you that you couldn’t go.

“stop, sweetie. i don’t wanna hear any more. dinner is ready soon,” your mom said before making her way back downstairs, leaving you angry and upset in your room.

sitting on the edge of your bed, you could look straight out your window, facing chris’s. you could peek some movements in there, and that was sign enough to pick up your phone and call him.

♡ ˖ ࣪ ◟

“she was being so annoying! i literally planned it all out with my friends, and then she told me i couldn’t go!” you laid with your back to chris’s bed, staring up at the ceiling. chris was doing the same, laughing lightly along with you when you broke a laugh at your upset self. he turned to look at you, poking your shoulder.

“hey, but now we’re having a sleepover. it’ll be ten times more fun,” he smiled, and you couldn’t help but smile back even wider, nodding along with his words.

“yeah,” you giggled, shooting a quick glance at the bag from earlier thrown onto chris’s floor. then to ruin the moment, your phone started buzzing with an incoming call. you rolled your eyes, grabbing your phone only to see your moms contact name.

“fuck,” you groaned, forgotten all about the dinner your mom had prepared and how’d you snook out. it was like this most days and weekends. whenever your parents weren’t being fair (in your eyes), you would immediately be welcomed in chris’s room and vice versa, spending the night eating snacks and watching some stupid show you never got to finish because you always ended up talking over it.

it was nice to have someone to hold your back, always there for you.

♡ ˖ ࣪ ◟

winter, 2018

the tension in the room was thick—so thick you could basically cut through it and finally get out of the room you usually enjoyed staying it. but not right now, not at all.

you sat on the carpeted floor of chris’s bedroom, leaning against the bedframe, his bed occupied with chris himself and his girlfriend. you had this faint idea she had something against you, but you didn’t know what. did you presence annoy her? was this the typical “his girl best friend” situation? gosh, you needed to leave.

“i’m- i’m gonna leave, sorry.. uh- dinners ready soon, so..” you muttered awkwardly as you stood up, glancing at chris and the girl slung under his arm. chris’s eyes immediately flickered to you. “are you sure? i mean, we just- just started..” his words were quick, almost begging for you to stay.

“chris, let her leave if she wants to,” his girlfriend shot in, giving you a look that spoke nothing close to kindness. embarrassed, you nodded slowly, giving him a hesitant wave before you closed his door behind you.

♡ ˖ ࣪ ◟

summer, 2019

the girls at your school could be.. heinous to say the least. chris had gotten a good handful of friends throughout freshman year who he decided to introduce you to—and lucky, you quickly all got along. but the popularity of him and his friends rapidly grew, and so did the attention from girls.

hot tears pricked in the corners of your eyes, sniffling and trying your best not to cry in the empty bathroom. you were anxiously bouncing your leg, staring down at your fingers while fiddling and fidgeting with them. you just couldn’t get those girls words out of your head.

“they’re definitely more than friends, but i don’t get it. she’s so weird.”

“you could never be good enough for chris, are you kidding?”

“chris would never go for a girl like her, have you seen her? they’re definitely not dating, he’d be dumb to.”

no one understood you were just friends, though maybe, just maybe, you wanted more than that. so with that feeling in your gut already, their words only made you feel ten times more shitty. you truly believed chris would never see you as more than a friend. i mean, at least he was single now, right?

you wanted to ask him out, you really did. but when most days were spent like this, crying and second guessing yourself, was it really worth it? to ruin a perfect and life long friendship?

and were you really that dumb? would chris ever like you as more than a friend? maybe they were right, you weren’t pretty enough.

all those thoughts kept running through your mind until the bell rang, and you hastily stood up, grabbing your bag and making your way out of the stall. quickly, you took a look at yourself in the mirror, attempting to wipe away the tears for your eyes and the few that had escaped to your cheek.

…

“what- justin? are you serious? he’s like, super annoying,” chris gasped, nearly losing grasp of the burger in his hand. you blushed, shrugging while avoiding chris’s eyes, adverting your eyes down at your fries instead. all this talk about chris and whether you were dating him or not lead to you trying to push it away—to find someone else to think about.

chris’s stomach did a weird flip when you said you had a secret crush on a guy, something twisted with jealousy. but he’d never admit it, not to anyone. his brows were furrowed, his head tilted slightly to the side while he stared at you, still struck.

“i dunno.. he’s kinda sweet. and his summer tan is really nice.” you mumbled, stuffing a few more fries into your mouth, looking up at chris. he raised his brows with a smirk, lightly chucking. “you’ve never talked to him, have you?”

your cheeks reddened, but you broke into a giggle along with chris, shaking your head from side to side before you breathlessly spoke up.

“no.. not really.”

♡ ˖ ࣪ ◟

fall, 2019

“i don’t know- i just.. i feel weird. everyone thinks we’re dating. don’t you think so? that it’s a little weird?” you questioned, turning to look at chris.

it was one of the usual friday’s. chris had finished practice earlier, just out the shower, and now sitting next to you in bed. just like normally, a movie was playing, but you had both forgotten about it.

he felt a weird twinge of feelings raise in his stomach at your words, suddenly feeling a little hot and quizzical—wasn’t this the perfect time to tell you? to pull you in for a kiss? no. there’s never be a perfect time, and he knew.

“i- i don’t know. a little?” his words were hesitant, keeping his eyes on the screen in front of you, acting interested. “but i mean.. we’re basically together all the time, so.. i-i kinda get it.”

your ears turning red and scorching when he spoke, as well as your cheeks. he kind of gets it? what was that supposed to mean?

all you could do was nod, giving his face a quick glance, flickering to his lips before a the tiniest, faintest smile pulled on the corners of your lips. “yeah.. makes sense.” your head leaned onto his shoulder, shuffling closer to him.

♡ ˖ ࣪ ◟

spring, 2022

your eyes were avoiding chris’s, mindlessly searching around the café you were sitting in, chris doing the same. your fingers were laced together with his over the table, awkwardly waiting for the coffee you’d just ordered a few minutes ago.

your smudged lips couldn’t help but curl into a smile, your face tinted a little pink—but not as much as his. chris was trying everything against his will to pull you out of the, actually really nice café, and kiss you senseless, just liked he’d done fifteen minutes ago in his car. “um, so.. d-do you think this is a good?” his free hand turned the menu to you, pointing at the name of a sandwich.

your eyes dipped to the card in front of you, reading over the ingredients. “yeah, yeah it does. do you wanna get it? we could share it.”

all the times you’d gone out with chris for lunch never felt like this. but it made sense. he wasn’t just your best friend anymore. this time it actually had a meaning—he’d asked you out on a date.

he nodded, making eye contact with you for the first time since you had sat in his car, blinking a couple times, but keeping his eyes on yours. “that sounds good.. yeah.” swiftly, he leaned closer to leave a loving but soft kiss to your cheek.

you laughed, shoving him off when he continued, finally feeling that wall of awkwardness fall. “chris, stop. you keep doing that,” you continued giggling, finally succeeding in pushing him away. “i’m just making up for all the time i wasted not doing that,” he murmured with a wide, lovestruck smile, his free hand cupping the side of your face to kiss you properly, definitely making a few heads turn.

♡ ˖ ࣪ ◟

february 14th, valentine’s day, 2025

your face was flushed pink, a small layer of sweat beading across your forehead and bare chest. the marks chris had left earlier on your neck and collarbone matched the smudged but red color on your lips—which was now transferred to his chest, burgundy imprints of your lips pressed to his skin.

“gosh, i love you.. so much, you have no idea angel,” chris’s arms were tightly wrapped around you, one draped under your waist, the other one around the back of your neck while he jerked his hips forward, holding up close. chris’s lips occasionally brushed against yours, the moans you both let one mixing together in a harmony.

you hadn’t planned on having some cliché valentine’s day plans together, especially the red petals and balloons on the bed you had seen and laughed at on the internet. sure, you went out earlier to enjoy the friday, but neither of you expected it to turn into this.. okay lie, you both definitely expected this, but neither of you vocalized it.

now you had your legs wrapped around his waist like he had instructed you to do. but to your pleasure, you dug your heels into his lower back with every thrust, pushing him deeper. “ah, chris, i- i love you too.. so good chris,” a whimper left your maroon, parted lips, before they collided with his.

your sweet noises and praise sent a twinge of fire down his spine, groaning loudly into the kiss when yours fingers pulled him closer by his hair. “can’t- can’t believe i wasted more than half my fucking life without you like this.. i- gosh, i’m so crazy for you,” his words sent electricity through your veins, arching your back to let his chest press to yours with a loud cry of his name.

in the end, you knew deep down it was all worth the wait. your friendship had bloomed into something much more beautiful, much more than just friends.

more bsf!chris x inexperienced!reader here!

˚𝜗𝜚 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬... first part is based on a true story. i accidentally cracked a girls brow up, sorry! anyway, it’s valentine’s day so i felt like adding some smut.. just because. sorry😇🤍

۶ৎ taglist: @jetaimevous @missmimii @mattscoquette @pearlzier @witchofthehour @elizasturn @loveparqdise @delilahsturniolo @phone4pills @sturnsmia @hearts4werka @cayleeuhithinknott @strnilolover @sturnvxz @lovergirl4gracieabrams @ifwdominicfike @toftomgmf @emely9274 @sturnioloangell @blushsturns @sierrraaaaxz @slut4chris888 @marrykisskilled @sophand4n4 @sturnihoelooo @unknvhx @chrisslut04 @sturniolossss @slvtf0rchr1s @blahbel668 @starkeysturniolo @miolos @user1smvtysturniolo @lizzyzzn @sturnslutz @decimatedxdreams @chrissturnioloswife88 @sturn777 @sturniolonationsblog @frankoceanfanpage @priscillaog @courta13 @sweetrelieef @loverboysturn @sturns-mermaid @cutseylady @sofieeeeex @sofia-is-a-sturniolo-triplet-fan @mattsturnii @conspiracy-ash

❛❛ © 𝐒𝐓𝟕𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐎𝐈𝐎𝐒𝐒 𝐞𝐬𝐭. 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑 ❜❜

[scentofhydrangea]

for @vershautece, based off of this and a little of this 🩷 enjoy!

warnings luigi is a baby making machine! sahm themes, let’s just assume he never had back problems shhh, all italian is translated at the bottom, breeding, oral (both receiving), missionary + doggy, orgasm denial (?), rough sex, ass slapping (i don’t like the other word), reflection ;), half-assed proofread

a/n i am actually so sorry this is so late, i’ve been stacked today and then i scheduled this to post and it never did… ALSO THIS IS WAY LONGER THAN I ORIGINALLY INTENDED!!! and i’m sorry the smut is kinda vague i haven’t written actual smut in SOOOO long it’s embarrassing… i’m gonna be a hornball on your dash!

getting accepted to upenn was definitely in your top three most exhilarating moments of your life. with plans of majoring in art, you were over the moon to start your independent life at an ivy league school! you rarely let boys get in your way — enjoying life in the moment was a top quality of yours as an artist.

that was, until you met luigi. oh god, he’s so beautiful. you only picked up one digital class that you really didn’t even know the name of because you’d wanted to get into digital art and you thought it’d be fun to learn the functions. as soon as you saw him about two weeks into the course, you were swooning. unbeknownst to you, most other girls were also swooning.

you only had a few tight friends, but your kind personality was a trait everyone noticed about you as soon as you would approach. also how good you smelled. and your beautiful smile. and your full, happy cheeks when you laugh. really just everything — and you’d had no idea that boys in your courses would pine after you, too.

a few trusty years later, you and luigi were to be wed! babies came shortly after, and you had the most beautiful twin toddlers. after you’d been granted maternity leave from your job as a high school art teacher, you’d gotten a little too used to staying home and tending to the house, rather than scrambling every weekend to get everything done as well as take care of your husband and children.

you had a talk with luigi and determined that the money from his job would be enough to keep the family steady going as well as a few pieces you’d make and sell on ebay every now and again. almost as quickly as you could, you sent an email to the superintendent and principal of your school saying that you would unfortunately not be returning due to personal issues.

luigi had never asked you to be a sweet little tradwife for him, but he damn sure enjoyed it. today in particular, your three year olds’ daycare was closed so you were fortunate enough to leave them with their godparents. this was good for you, they’d likely ask to spend the night with their padrini*, so you can have tonight and tomorrow morning without a ‘bedtime’ for you and your children!

in the morning after dropping them off, you went back home to get cute and dolled up — you usually made breakfast wearing a silk pajama set that luigi bought for you last christmas. then you went to the grocery store and to the bank to deposit a check from a painting you sold for a little under $500. then back home to make a small lunch — you were planning to cook a big dinner — and then onto housework. you played music while you worked, and once beds were made you retreated back to your bedroom to tweak your hair and makeup for dinner.

you also made sure luigi knew not to come home before 5:45 because you wouldn’t be done with your dishes, and checked in on your kids to confirm they’d stay the night at their padrini’s house.

when luigi came home, just like out of a scene of a movie, he shouted from the front door: “tesoro, sono a casa!*” followed by the door closing and locking mechanically behind him. he strutted into the kitchen to see you putting plates together — exactly 6:00. he must have waited in the driveway to give you some extra time!

with a gentle hold of your waist and long kiss on your cheek, you suddenly felt much more comfortable; almost feeling safe that he was home. anxiety was sometimes a struggle when you’re home alone all day and your husband working half an hour away.

as you plated the food and brought the bread out of the oven, luigi went upstairs to change into something more casual. when he opened the bedroom door, he noticed you had left a precious little lingerie set laying on the bed, likely accidentally. his interest was certainly piqued! quirking an eyebrow and grinning a little to himself, he took a few minutes to change and mess with his hair a bit in the mirror.

luigi came down the stairs with happy haste.

“thank you for making this meal, babydoll, smells so good,” he compliments, kissing your cheek again.

your face burns excitedly. “thank you,” you kiss his lips a few short times.

over dinner, you chat about each other’s day and the children. he seems to be deep in thought for a moment, and when he notices you staring he speaks again.

“you think we should have another baby?” he asks cheekily.

you nearly choke and your heart rate runs rampant, looking as if you hadn’t had sex before. “do you want to?”

“would i ask if i didn’t want to?”

there’s a rush between your thighs almost immediately. you place your fork down onto your plate and stand up, but before you can walk off he’s up and scooping you into his strong arms. he cascades up the steps with you bridal style.

as soon as he steps into the bedroom, he places you down on the fuzzy chair in front of your vanity. a finger points to the lacy set laying on the neat bed.

“you wanna tell me what you got this out for?” he presses, kneeling down on the ground in front of you. luigi’s pretty lips pepper kisses on your ankles, lifting each one up slowly to remove your kitten heels. once each shoe is off, he places the now bare calf on his shoulder.

“please, lu…” you plead pathetically.

his eyebrows furrow upwards, looking at you with big eyes full of faux empathy. “please what? use your words, mio amore. dimmi cosa vuoi*.”

words are quick to fail you. your brain is blank, almost static. most times you have sex it’s quick and hushed because the twins are in the house.

he’s kissing up your legs again, attempting to get a rise out of you. once he gets to your thighs, you’re getting a little restless.

“taking too long,” you mumble, and he lifts his head to look you in the eye again — this time much more stern.

“what was that?”

“said you’re taking too long,” you repeat yourself louder, locking your gaze with his.

within a second, he’s snatched you up and thrown you onto the neat bed.

“you and your goddamn bed decorations. i never know why you put all these pillows on here when we’re just gonna throw them all off later,” he grumbles, clearly angry and clearing the throw pillows from the bed, tossing them to the floor.

luigi pushes your maxi skirt up and nearly tears your little cotton underwear off of you. his tongue darts between your warmth and his nose harshly rubs against your clit, catching you off guard and sending your spine into electric shock. your hands fly to grip his hair in one hand and the tightly made bedsheets in the other.

“y’taste so sweet, tesoro,” he groans against you, leaving open-mouthed kisses on your thighs before going back to devouring your sex.

he’s already working an easy orgasm or two from you. he pulls you from your stupor and unzips your dress, gingerly pulling it off of you — he knows how upset you got last time he accidentally ripped the hem of your dress.

his shirt is gone, his chin and parts of his cheeks are still wet, and removing his belt as quickly as he can. as soon as his pants drop, you grab the hem of his boxers and pull them down. every time you see his cock, it never fails to surprise you that the tip touches his fucking belly button.

you pop his throbbing pink tip into your mouth, giving it little kitten licks and short kisses. you work your way down, or as much as you can, using your hand to pump what you can’t fit in your mouth. you’re moaning and slobbering around his cock, vibrations from your voice sending chills up his spine and down into his arms. his hands find their way to the back of your head, carefully urging you to take more.

your throat is constricting and you retract from his cock, looking into his eyes for validation.

“you’re taking too long,” he mocks in a faux whiny voice. luigi pushes you back onto the bed by his shoulders and holds his heavy cock. he teases your folds, rubbing his hot tip through to spread your own spit and cum from him eating you out. slowly, he pushes in. he always waits a little for you to adjust to how big he is.

“fuck, m’so full…”

“you’re so tight, mio amore.”

his eyes are boring into yours and his hands press down onto your womb to see his own cock buried into you.

“gonna cum if you don’t breathe for a second and relax, holy fuck baby,” he reminds you with a deep, raspy tone.

you take a deep breath and mid-exhale he starts to pound into you with a feverish and eager alacrity, causing you to almost scream.

“mmmmy fucking god!” your voice shakes with each impactful thrust against your hips. one of his hands grips your waist and the other attaches to your boob, his head following shortly. his tongue laps around your peaked nipple rapidly.

then both hands are on your waist and he briefly pulls out to flip you onto your stomach and prop your ass up to his liking. he’s shoving his cock back into your soaked cunt and returns back to his relentless pace.

“gonna fuck a baby into you, bella ragazza, gonna get you nice and swollen with a pretty baby, hm? isn’t that right?” he pushes his hand down onto your lower back, arching you up higher for him. both of his big hands find your frizzed up curly bun and he snatches your head back.

“feels so fucking good, m’gonna cum, lu!”

“aht,” he slows down exponentially, “you’ll cum when i tell you to.”

your eyes roll to the back of your head with adoration and you swear your ovaries start jumping at the demand. he’s back to slamming into you and a hard hand comes down onto each ass cheek three or four times. he adds to the torture by holding your hair in one hand and moving his other arm around your hip to grind his palm on your clit.

“oh my god, i’m gonna fucking cum luigi…” you breathe out between a moan, a scream and a whisper.

“what’d i tell you?”

“to wait ‘til you tell me to cum!”

“do what i tell you, be a good girl and listen to me.”

your brain is numb and your head falls limp, his grip in your hair is the only thing holding your body close to his.

“you’re so fucking pretty, mio amore, can i take a picture?”

you just nod obediently, not really caring too much at this point. he reaches over to the bedside table where he put his phone before dinner and opens the camera, showing your mascara dripping down your face from tears you didn’t know were flowing and an agape mouth, moans slipping through with every motion.

“you see why i love fucking you s’much? hm? look at yourself while i fuck you, baby,” he’s shoving the phone into your hand to palm your clit again. you’re bucking your hips against each form of stimulation with your jaw wide open, breathing shakily.

“there you go, tesoro, y’wanna cum?” he taunts, to which you nod your head and moan a hearty ‘yes!’

his index and middle finger focus on your clit, circling the sensitive bundle of nerves as tightly as he can. your eyes go crossed, no longer paying any attention to the reflection in the camera. luigi’s hand drops from your hair, pushes your head down and arches your back up one more time. he pressed record on the camera and kept up with his cock bullying into your cervix over and over.

“go ahead and cum with me baby, take it like the good girl you are.”

when he gives you permission, almost like a stage cue, you totally let go. your cunt squeezes around him entirely and traps him in. his cock twitches rampantly inside you as he meets his release, watching your face through the camera that you’re gripping onto with your life.

it takes a few minutes to cool off after he lays down beside you, stopping the recording and kissing all over your face. “you did so good for me, baby. sei una brava ragazza*.”

you don’t even have it in you to respond, your chest heaving.

“you think that one will take? should we go for another round?”

this gets a breathless chortle from you. “can i catch my breath first? also, you messed my hair up.”

“so that’s a yes?” he asks, already burying his face into your chest and carefully pressing kisses to your hot skin.

🌺🩷💋

italian words and phrases:

padrini: godparents

tesoro: sweetheart

sono a casa: i’m home!

dimmi cosa vuoi: tell me what you want

sei una brava ragazza: you’re (such) a good girl

[alittlegiraffe]

Title: Too Long

Warning: Sexual Circumstances

The house was pure chaos. Dinner was half-eaten on the table, the TV blared some kids’ show in the background, and their daughters were in full energy mode, running circles around the kitchen island. You were trying your best to wrangle them, but they were giggling too hard to listen.

“Girls,” you warned, your voice holding little weight as you stacked dishes into the sink. “Come on, it’s bedtime.”

They barely acknowledged you, still deep in their game, until Marshall stepped in.

“Hey,” his voice cut through the noise like a blade, deep and firm. “Enough. Pick up your toys, brush your teeth, and get in bed. Now.”

The air in the room shifted instantly. The girls, recognizing the tone that meant business, scurried off with small murmurs of “Yes, Daddy.”

But it wasn’t just them who reacted.

Your body froze mid-motion, a shiver working its way down your spine. You swallowed hard, pulse jumping as heat curled low in your stomach. It had been too long—way too long—since he had spoken to you in that tone, since he had taken control like that, and your body remembered it instantly. The shift in your demeanor was immediate, instinctive. Your breath hitched, your thighs pressed together, and suddenly, the everyday chaos of parenting faded into the background.

Marshall turned to you, his blue eyes sharp as they locked onto yours. He saw it. The way you had stilled, the way your fingers gripped the edge of the sink a little too tightly, the way your breath had changed.

A slow smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, recognition flashing in his gaze.

“You good, baby?” His voice was still in that commanding tone, but now, there was a different kind of heat laced through it. A knowing amusement.

You exhaled shakily, nodding. “Yeah, I just—” You bit your lip, heat flooding your cheeks. “You know.”

His smirk deepened as he stepped closer, pressing his chest against your back, his breath warm against your ear. “Yeah, I do know.” His hands slid down to your hips, squeezing just enough to make you sigh. “Been too long, huh?”

You nodded, pressing back into him slightly, needing more, even as your mind swam in submission. “Way too long.”

Marshall chuckled lowly, his beard scratching against your skin as he pressed a lingering kiss to the side of your neck. “Go to our room,” he murmured, voice firm but gentle. “Now.”

A full-body shiver ran through you, your muscles already loosening at his words. The dishes, the mess, the chaos—all of it could wait.

Tonight, you weren’t just Mom.

Tonight, you were his.

The next morning, the house was noticeably calmer. The girls sat at the table, giggling over their cereal, and you—well, you moved a little slower than usual, a soreness between your thighs that had you wincing every time you shifted.

Marshall was watching you. Closely.

You could feel his eyes on you as you reached for the coffee pot, his lips twitching in amusement when you let out a quiet hiss and adjusted your stance. The man was insufferable.

“You okay, baby?” he asked, and the teasing lilt in his voice had you shooting him a glare.

“I’m fine.”

“You sure?” He leaned in, voice low and knowing. “Maybe I was a little rough—”

You cut him off with a sharp look, whispering, “You know you were.”

His smirk widened, but instead of gloating, his hands found your waist, grounding and warm. “You want me to run you a bath?”

You rolled your eyes, but your heart swelled at the tenderness in his touch. “No, I want you to kiss me like you’re about to sin and do it all over again.”

His eyes darkened instantly, his grip tightening just enough to make your breath hitch. But before he could do anything about it, a small voice piped up from the table.

“Mommy, why is Daddy looking at you like that?”

Marshall groaned, pressing his forehead against your shoulder while you stifled a laugh. “Because he loves me, baby,” you answered smoothly, running a hand through his beard before stepping out of his grasp.

The girls all exchanged looks before bursting into laughter. “Ewwww!”

Marshall rolled his eyes, grabbing his coffee and muttering, “Should’ve known better.”

You just smiled, squeezing his hand under the table. Because last night, for the first time in too long, he had reminded you of exactly what it meant to be his. And despite the little aches that lingered, all you could think about was when you’d get to feel it again.

Once the girls were finally out the door and off to school, the house fell silent. You sighed, rolling your shoulders, ready to tackle the laundry. Marshall had disappeared into his studio—at least, that’s what you thought.

You were mid-motion, folding a shirt and placing it into the drawer, when a warm, solid presence pressed up against your back.

“I was looking for you,” Marshall murmured, his voice low, the rasp sending a delicious shiver down your spine.

“I thought you were working,” you breathed, heartbeat picking up as his hands slid around your waist.

“I was.” He turned you gently, pinning you between the dresser and his body. “But then I got to thinking about last night. And how much I missed this.”

Before you could respond, he captured your lips in a heated kiss, his fingers gripping your hips, pressing you flush against him. You moaned into his mouth, hands finding their way into his beard, tugging just enough to make him groan.

Then, just as suddenly, he dropped to his knees.

“Marshall—”

“Shhh, baby.” His hands ran up your thighs, pushing the fabric of your shorts higher before slipping them down completely. “Let me take care of you.”

And with that, he showed you just how much he missed you, pulling every sweet, desperate sound from your lips until your legs shook, until your fingers tangled in his hair, until all you could do was let him devour you.

By the time he finally stood, brushing his lips against yours with a satisfied smirk, your body was boneless, your breath uneven.

“Yeah,” he murmured, chuckling softly against your skin. “Definitely missed this.”

You didn’t even have the strength to stand. Before you could protest, Marshall scooped you into his arms, carrying you to bed effortlessly. He tucked you into his chest, his warmth lulling you into a haze of soft kisses and whispered praise.

Hours passed, between shared passion and drifting in and out of sleep. It wasn’t until you stirred, stretching against his chest, that the realization hit.

“Marshall,” you mumbled, sitting up quickly. “We’re late picking up the girls.”

He just grinned lazily, pulling you back down with a strong arm around your waist. “Relax, baby. Your parents got ‘em.”

Your mouth opened in surprise, but before you could respond, he rolled on top of you, pressing you deep into the mattress. His lips hovered just above yours, his voice dripping with mischief. “Now, where were we?”

And just like that, you were lost to him again.

[kteezy997]

Beyond Business-part 13//t.c.

He told you not to look at posts about him and Kylie online. But something possessed you to look. It was something obsessive inside of you.

After the A Complete Unknown premiere in Paris, he and Kylie had a ‘secret’ date with loads of paparazzi to capture them entering and leaving the restaurant and the hotel afterwards.

It hurt you to see him holding her hand, leading her through the crowd of flashing lights and photographers shouting at them.

Kylie wore a black, skintight jumpsuit which showed lots of cleavage. She seemed to be almost posing for the cameras, smiling directly at one of them. She looked so proud to be on Timothée’s arm.

You couldn’t help but think that that should be you. That she didn’t deserve him, even if they were just pretending. You hated seeing it. You had a horrible feeling inside when you saw them together. You didn't recognize your Timmy.

He didn’t even have to kiss her or look her, it was just the simple fact of her touching him, sitting close to him in the car, it just made your skin crawl. Maybe you were too jealous for this to work.

At least you had a couple days to clear your head before you saw Timmy again. You decided to go home, to see your parents, have a home cooked meal with your siblings. You needed to come down to earth, out of Timothée Chalamet’s orbit for just a moment.

Your first night in your parents’ house, he tried calling you. But you weren’t ready to talk. You couldn’t be his girlfriend at this moment, or his assistant.

He left voicemails and text after text, “baby call me please.” “need to hear your voice.” “miss you so much. I wish you were here.” So many sweet things. But you couldn’t give in. You loved him, of course you did. But you had been feeling way too much and needed a break from it all. You felt like you didn't know yourself anymore.

……..

In all, you spent a week away. You let Timmy know that you needed a vacation, and he granted you the time off. But that was all the conversation was about. You didn’t let it get any more personal than that, despite his desperate attempts.

You knew that he was probably hurting too, with you going away so suddenly. But you did your best not to think about it.

But it was finally time to go back. You felt refreshed, and level-headed about the situation. You were ready for whatever was to come.

You knocked on his door on your first Monday back to work. There was no answer. You waited a moment, then let yourself inside. “Timmy?” you called. There was no sign of him, or any sign that he had been roaming around the apartment at all that morning.

The place was unkempt. Take out containers and beer bottles scattered about. You started to really worry. You called his name again with no response.

You checked his bedroom, and there he was, sleeping like a rock.

You shook him, gently, “Timmy, it’s time to start work for the day.” you whispered.

He grumbled, clenching his eyes, then opening them. He sighed when he looked up at you. “You’re here, finally.”

“Are you okay?”

He scoffed, “Fuck no, I’m not okay.” he raised up in the bed, his eyes red and more tired looking than ever. "My girlfriend leaves me high and dry for a fucking week. Do you not understand how bad I need you?”

“I do. But I needed time to take care of myself.”

“Well, what happened?”

“I couldn’t stand the pictures of you Kylie on your romantic date in Paris.”

He rolled his eyes, “I’ve told you not to pay attention to any of that.”

“Oh fuck off, Timothée, and put yourself in my shoes! How would you like it if some other man was parading me around across the world? Do you really think that I want you to be with another woman half the time?” you didn't want to raise your voice at him, but you couldn't help it.

“It’ll come to end eventually, I swear it will! I’m sorry that you’re upset.” he calmed down, reaching to grab your hand.

“Do I not have the right to be?”

“Yes, you do. I just don’t know what I can do about it right now."

“You can choose. It’s her or me.”

“You know that I choose you.”

“No. It’s me or her. You don’t get me in private and Kylie Jenner in public. Not anymore. I don’t want to be anyone’s secret, not even yours. I can't keep putting you before myself.”

“Please, don’t do this.” he pleaded, his eyes becoming glassy.

“I love you, but I can’t let you consume me like this. I can’t work for you anymore.” The tears were coming, you sniffled.

“I don’t give a shit about you being my assistant, I just want you.”

“If you break it off with her.”

“I-"

You shrugged, “See? You can’t give her up. I don’t know if it’s the fame or the sex,-"

He cut you off sharply, “I don’t have sex with her!”

“She is sex, Timothée. It’s about how masculine you are if you’re dating her. That's what it's all about. People take you seriously now that you’ve bagged her.”

“What’s gotten into you?”

“I’ve had time to think about this, that’s all. And I think I understand. You’ll never have a normal relationship now. It’s not for you, Timothée.”

“Why do you keep calling me by my full name? Are you..." he looked down, swallowing hard as a tear fell from his swelling eyes, “are you breaking up with me?”

You gasped, hearing the words out loud was something you hadn’t prepared for. You put your hand out, wanting to soothe him, to run your fingers through his hair, to hold him. But you couldn’t. Slowly, you retracted your hand. “I just don’t see how it could ever really work. Not if you’re involved with someone else. I want someone who doesn’t have to hide me.”

Timmy took a deep breath, nodding, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” he put his head on his hands.

You wiped your own tears away, “I’m going to go now.” you said.

He looked at you again, “Okay.”

As you started to walk out of his bedroom, he spoke again.

"Y/n, I want you to know that everything I've ever said to you was real. I love you. You've meant more to me than you could ever understand. So, thank you."

February 16, 2025

@gatoenlaciudad @thebetawolfgirl @musicandbooksaremyhappyplace @softhecreator @tchalamss @lixzey @bitchyunknownuser @ducktapebar @aoi-targaryen @yukideadinside @elloise0 @thatoneweirdgirl17 @mel-vaz @sammy-halpert @iwishchalamet @that-one-fangirl69 @jindongdongie @briefkittenearthquake @imnotoverlyobsessive @timhalchala @heatherpi @iconic-jedimullet @pmak2002

[r4fe-cam3ron]

𓍯 ִֶָ FEBRUARY FOURTEENTH; side a — unchained melody - the righteous brothers | eric x reader

w; events are the same as the movie ‘a quiet place’ — though for this i’m imagining two years after aqpdo, barely there dialogue, sadness but with fluff. an; eric :( i love him. he needs absolutely more recognition 💔 i hope i do him justice.

mixtape here!

The waterfall outside has been the only noise giving you slight comfort ever since you've arrived here. A small little area that had houses built from some wood. It definitely was not much, but you could not complain. 

You weren’t exactly sure how many days, months, or even years had passed, all you had known was that the days had begun to mend together, leaving you in a slight stage of confusion most mornings when you woke up. 

There were people also that had surrounded you, thankfully. You felt as if you’d been completely alone, along with the deafening silence, you would have broken down. 

It’s sad to see the children here though. They didn’t deserve to have their home life ripped away from them at such a young age and learn how to survive out in the wild. 

It wasn’t fair to anyone. 

There was also a cat. The fluffy black and white creature was the one to guide you there in the first place. It had caught you off guard seeing the animal — caught you even more off guard when he had immediately walked towards you and brushed himself against your legs. 

Today, there was a pretty sunset — yellow blending in with the orange, the clouds a light hue. There’s a bit of rain, yet that hadn’t dimmed the light seeping inside from your open window. 

Your ears perk up slightly when you hear the creaking from your door. Glancing over your shoulder, your lips pull into a soft smile. 

There was also Eric. 

A kind soul who you had immediately taken a liking to. He was the one to show you around, writing every so often in a little notebook he had in his back pocket. 

You both had grown close. And, in a weird way, you had forgotten everything that had been ripped from underneath you. 

You stand from the chair and he quickly holds up his finger. You tilt your head as you stand by your chair. He turns his hand and points near his eyes, slowly closing them. 

Lifting a brow, he opens them and motions towards you as he nods his head. Nodding back in understanding, your eyes slowly close and you wait patiently for whatever he’s about to do. 

He’s close now — you can tell by the small touch that grazes over your hand. The rain had now begun to pour now, louder against the tin roof. 

Rain was your favorite. Especially the sound of the droplets hitting against the roof.

Not to mention, you could finally speak and hear Eric’s voice as well. 

“Open.” His voice is low, slightly raspy as he speaks. 

Slowly opening your eyes, they look down at his open hand. Your eyes soften as your own hand lifts and carefully picks up the small flowers he had picked from the ground. 

“Thought you might like some.” 

You smile softly, eyes lingering on the small blue and yellow petals before looking up at him. “Thank you,” They’ll welt quickly, yet you don’t mind at all. You’ll place them with the others that have begun to fill up your jar by your bed. “I love them.” 

Your voice is soft, low, and gentle. The sound of it has Eric smiling as he looks down at your open hand. Your eyes linger on his face a bit longer before looking at your palm as well. 

Almost flinching at the feeling of his fingertip brushing over your fingers softly, you quickly glance up at him. 

“What have you done today?” 

You shake your head quickly, glancing outside for a second before looking back. “Wrote in my journal. How about you?” It feels weird having a normal conversion, especially at such a low volume. 

He shrugs a bit, his plush lips pulling into a smile. “Walked around  a bit. You can come with me tomorrow, if you’d like.” 

You nod, tilting your head. “I’d love to.” 

He nods slightly, and suddenly, his thumb is brushing over your open palm. You gulp quietly, flushing at the touch. “Would you like to dance?” 

“Here?” Your brows lift slightly at the request. He only nods. “There’s no music.” 

“Don’t worry about that.” He reassures you in a soft tone that has you folding immediately. You nod, gently placing the flowers down by the jar before stepping back. The clouds had finally covered the colorful sky, now a light grey. There’s two candles you had lit that highlights the contours of Eric’s face and his brown eyes. 

His eyes follow his own movements as a hand lifts and gently grabs your own as his other wraps around your side. He smiles when your free arm drapes over his shoulders. 

It’s quiet for a moment, except for the rain that still pelts against the roof. He pulls you a bit closer, tilting his head against yours. There's another second of quietness, before he begins to hum softly into your ear. 

You smile to yourself as you listen to him, your mind reeling as you try to figure out what song he could be humming. 

It comes to you finally. 

Unchained Melody. Something you’d said — or rather, wrote — was one of your favorite songs. 

He tugs your arm forward and places your other arm around his shoulder before dropping his hand to your lower back. His hands are gentle with you, his movements slow and steady. 

Your smile suddenly begins to waver as your heart pounds in your chest when his nose drags against your cheek before brushing against your own. 

Your lips part slightly as your eyes drop down to his mouth before quickly looking back up to his eyes. 

“W-where did you learn how to—” He says your name softly, effectively cutting you off. The swaying suddenly stops and his hands are lifting to push back your hair before cradling your face — gentle, despite the callous’. 

You’re already breathless, and by the time he kisses you, your mind is a hazy place. It takes a moment, but you quickly follow behind, your hand slowly sliding up the back of his neck and into his curls. 

Just like Eric — the kiss is soft, gentle, and sweet. All loving and all giving. It’s a silent promise to keep you safe if things ever go bad once again as it once had. 

If the made-from-scratch solace was something to fear in the end, he would keep you safe. 

No matter his ending. 

His love for you was loud in a silent world. 

𓍯 ִֶָ tags; @ali-r3n — @marchsfreakshow — @sstar-ggirl

𓍯 ִֶָ thank you for reading! comments, reblogs, & feedback are welcome & greatly appreciated!

[apomaro-mellow]

Hawkins Confidential 8

Part 7

Steve ignored Dustin’s protests as he scented him in the car. He’d done so every morning this week now that his pup was back in school. It still felt like a dream come true that he got to see his son off, bookbag bouncing as he hopped, skipped, and stepped to his class. But that left him completely alone. He sighed, rubbed his face with his hands and then drove off to distract himself with random errands. Of course, the thoughts came to him anyway. As he went shopping, as he visited the club, even as he tried to drown his thoughts out with the chaotic sounds of a playground, they found him.

How he was in a loveless marriage, how his parents still ruled over him, even though one was dead. He was just like his parents, right down to his husband having a mistress. Steve got back home, hours wasted and it was barely two in the afternoon. Steve wandered to the kitchen. He got through two glasses before giving up and just taking the bottle up to his room. 

But there was one difference between his life and his mother’s. One aspect he nearly forgot about.

He nearly jolted off the bed and threatened to tip the bottle over when the phone rang. He groaned, not up to talking with anyone. But it continued to ring and that just frayed his nerves even more.

“Hello?”, he answered.

“Hey, so what should I bring to dinner tonight? Wine? A cheese plate? Some other rich person thing I can’t think of?”

Shit. Shit, the weekly dinner. Steve set the bottle down on the floor and tried to right himself. He sniffed, not realizing how close to tears he had been.

“Hey? Stevie, are you okay?”

“Yeah I’m just, yeah I…yeah”, Steve said, words feeling too heavy all of a sudden. He just wanted Eddie here. To hold him, scent him, comfort him the way he used to. And just like before, Eddie could tell there was a lot weighing on him even though he had hardly said anything.

“Are you home? I can be there in ten.”

“Eddie no, I..I couldn’t. You don’t need to-”

“I’m coming. You can turn me away once I’m there but I’m on my way.”

Eddie got there in nine minutes and Steve didn’t turn him away. He was almost petty enough to bring Eddie up to the bedroom. Let Tommy catch the scent of another alpha on their bedspread. But Steve wasn’t that bold yet. Not ready to fully confront it all. So he took Eddie up to one of the guest rooms instead. They fell into bed as easily as if nothing had changed. Steve scented him, rubbing their cheeks together, nuzzling his neck. Eddie let it all happen, silent until a rumble rolled through him.

“What are we doin’, baby?”, he asked, voice low.

“I know, I’m sorry”, Steve said, suddenly sitting up. “I just…needed you.”

“I get that. But why? What happened? Is something wrong with Dustin?”

“No”, Steve shook his head. “Dustin’s as healthy as ever. It’s…”

Eddie propped himself onto his elbows, gazing at Steve’s profile. “It’s Tommy”, he surmised correctly.

“Not just him. It’s Carol too.”

Eddie shot up at that. “No…”

Steve nodded, then got up from the bed to stare out the window. “It’s true.”

“I’ll fucking kill him. How could he-”

“Eddie, it’s fine.”

“It’s not fine! Steve, you were about to fall into rejection sickness!”

Steve wrapped his arms around himself and refused to look at Eddie. That’s what he’d been feeling. Eddie must have smelled it on him the minute he arrived. And he still let Steve rub all over him.

“Do you love him?”, Eddie asked, his voice soft.

“No!”, Steve whipped around. “I don’t love him. He’s slime. He’s a parasite. He’s-ugh, fuck! I can’t believe I’m sick over him! Eddie, I swear I don’t love him. It’s just…I never wanted…this life”, he sighed, then fell back against the bed. “And it’s not just me anymore, it’s Dustin too. He’s growing up in this cold, loveless house just like I did. I should’ve run away with you.”

“It’s not loveless. He’s got you. And me now”, Eddie said, kneeling before Steve. “And I’m done looking back. I just wanna think about the future I have with you two. What’s it matter if Hagan’s shacking up with Carol anyway?”

“It doesn’t matter all that much. At least not on Tommy’s end.” Steve played with Eddie’s hair. “But Carol’s never in it just for the fun. She’s probably after his money.”

“Your money”, Eddie corrected. “She’s trying to push you out. Push our pup out.”

Steve bristled at that. Carol wasn’t any old floozy. Eddie was right, she was making a play for the Harrington fortune. She was a threat to him. A threat to his pup. But even so…

“I don’t know what to do, Eddie. Carol won’t back off just because I say I figured out their game.”

Eddie grinned and stood up, bringing Steve along with him. “You must have mellowed out from the way you used to be back in the day. I remember you dressing a guy down because he bumped into me and refused to apologize. I remember you making that cheerleader cry in less than ten words. I remember you making the mayor speechless! Sweetheart, you could end Carol’s life if you wanted to. The question is, do you want to?”

Steve nodded. “I wanna ruin her for good. But that’s not the only thing I want.” He swallowed as he met Eddie’s gaze, only to find the alpha looking just as intensely at him.

“Tell me what you want, baby.”

Steve’s hands smoothed up Eddie’s chest and suddenly they were sixteen again, hiding away in a guest room while his parents were out for the night. Gone were the titles and roles that had been piled up on him in the past decade. He was just Eddie’s. And Eddie was his.

“I want you”, Steve whispered before capturing his lips.

Eddie melted into it, arms coming around Steve. He had missed this. Getting to kiss him and hold him, and have him. He moaned when Steve’s hand went into his hair. A move that was so familiar, it had him forgetting where he was. But they both heard the heavy front door open and close and broke apart from each other.

By the time Dustin came bounding up the stairs, Steve was able to greet him, door to the guest room closed behind him. Dustin smelled Eddie on him of course but came to the conclusion that he must be somewhere in the house - not that his two dads had just been making out. 

Steve went to keep Dustin occupied, giving Eddie a chance to escape the guest room and pretend he’d been in another part of the house. The three of them caught up in the living room while dinner was being prepared. When it was served, the only other newcomer was Bianca. Tommy would be working late again.

Bianca was only just barely civil to Eddie. It helped that she had a soft spot for her grandson. It also helped that Dustin was such a chatterbox that he dominated the conversation. It gave Steve time to think. About how to handle Carol, about what he wanted from Eddie. Because try as they might, things couldn’t just go back to how they were before. He had a child now. Any scandal involving him would hurt Dustin too. Dustin got Eddie to stay through dessert but after that, Eddie had to go.

“Come on! It’s basically the weekend! Can’t you stay the night?”

Every adult froze, including his mother who was on her way upstairs. Eddie recovered first, smiling as he bent over to get on Dustin’s level.

“Wish I could, bud. You and I can pull all-nighters when you’re at my place, deal?”

“Only if those all-nighters include movie marathons and junk food”, Dustin made him swear.

“I promise.”

“Go ahead upstairs and start getting ready for bed. And that includes brushing your teeth”, Steve said as he walked Eddie to the door. He closed the door and they were both alone in the quiet of the night. “Look, Eddie-”

“I already know what you’re gonna say. And I understand. It was the heat of the moment. You don’t wanna do this.”

“No! Shut up! I do!”, Steve hissed. “I mean, I do, just, not like this. Not when things are so complicated.”

Eddie stuck his hands into his pockets. “Haven’t they always been like that?”

Steve shook his head. “Not in the beginning. It only got messed up when my parents meddled and-” His brain suddenly decided to bring up a similar scene to this. It was night, Steve was on his front porch, telling Eddie to go away. He could blame his parents for that, but Steve was responsible too. “I meant that. I want you Eddie, I do. That hasn’t changed. But can’t I have some time? To think about how it’s gonna be? To deal with Carol and Tommy?”

Eddie took out a cigarette and lit it as Steve spoke. He didn’t reply until he’d taken a drag and breathed it out. “I’ve waited ten years. I can wait a little longer. You’ll call if you need me, right?”

Steve’s shoulders sagged in relief. “There’s no one else I’d rather call.”

Part 9 coming soon

[hballegro]

I had a dream where there was a murder mystery and some of the suspects were Obama, the couple from Ruthless People, Scott Bakula [like, present day, not QL era], three people from my middle school, and like half my immediate family, and upon getting an ending I didn't like [Scott was the killer] I woke up, remembered 90% of the dream including a final chase sequence, decided that ending SUCKED and I didn't wanna be awake yet, fell RIGHT back asleep, and returned right back to my fuckin dream and got a different ending that I now cannot remember [it wasn't any of the people I listed, but I also can't really remember who it was? It was a guy, and he was affluent, but I dont remember rip]

You WISH you were me

[insanechayne]

~ ~ ~

[kekewrites]

Tw. Bimbo reader, dark content, noncon, dubcon, corruption kink, coercion, creampie, size kink, magic sex toy/onahole/fleshlight, loss of virginity, not proof read

***

Thinking about being a childhood friend of a yandere duo.

You were just so friendly and cute, approaching them with candies in your tiny hands and offering it to them. So kind as you always play with them, and sometimes they would argue who'd be your husband when playing house. They often fought whenever they wanted to play with you but in the end, it always results to sharing you.

Middle school was a little different than Kindergarten. They get more protective when boys try to get close to you, painting them as insufferable brats that only want clout. Being neighbors with the wealthy kids, got you too much attention much to their liking, often getting bullied whenever you finally have some alone time, but this didn't get unnoticed as you wonder why that kid who pushed you on your locker, suddenly have bandage wrapped around his head and his reputation down.

Highschool is where the shift started. You wanted to explore more, finding new friends, and hanging out with other people, and they did not like that. You were just too dumb, they said. Too dumb to realize people manipulating you so that they can get close to them. Do you even realize that the girl from your class only talks to you about them? Dumb girl.

Safe to say, you never had a genuine friend in high school, not like you even had chance to form a deep level of friendship (by people who genuinely wanna be friends with you) by the way they hog all your attention and time.

College is where it gets difficult for them to spend time with you. Different schedules, classes, course. They even insisted you go to the same university as them. It's frustrating how little time you spend together, always with your stupid excuse of "working on an assignment".

Without you around, they definitely have a hard time relieving some tension. They couldn't just walt into your room and steal some panties scoot free without getting into trouble, even though they were star students and had plenty influence over the school. No, no, they won't put their reputation to ruin, they're your perfect best friends.

Despite them being a duo, they were quite different in terms of personality. One is patient and mature, thinking logical and more on the rational side. While the other is playful, outgoing and rash. Both have their charms that got everyone around their fingers. However, they wouldn't sleep with just anyone, no. It's hard to get their dick hard, always imagining your cute face whenever they try to fuck a desperate bitch to finally release some tension.

But your impatient friend had enough of some random girl, high pitch moans that's not yours annoying his ears. It's miserable to even hump his own hand, so hard and cold, different to what he imagine your tight warm cunt to be. This just won't cut it. He needs more, to finally feel your wet insides without you knowing.

So what's a good way to relieve tension?

Some good ol' fleshlight.

The moment it arrived at his doorstep, he straight up bolted to his door. Slamming the door close as he finally gets his hands on the toy after days of waiting. Fuck, he can't wait to use this thing.

It's like the half body sex toy he used to watch in porns. He was quite impressed by the details it had, he gotta give props for that, but that's not what he's after for. After reading the instructions, more like skimming and skipping most of the words. He use lubricant, using plenty of it and spreading it around the artificial pussy lips. Rubbing and feeling the flaps, like how he usually does. It's kinda weird that he's doing this for a toy, but he could just imagine it being your cunt, practicing his moves. After a few moments did he slide his thick finger inside the walls of the toy... How weird, the texture was oddly real, like it was alive. Well, that's probably some mechanic shit that the factory put there or something. This is his first time using a fleshlight and it cost a fortune through some sketchy website so it better be worth it.

***

You jolted in your sit in class, listening to your professor's discussion about physics until you suddenly feel something brushing on your thighs. Your head panning around the room before looking ahead, brushing it off. It was probably the wind.

You yelp when something began rubbing your cunt, earning a few concern looks for you and your professor glancing at you before going back to his discussion. You shrink in your sit, head hanging low as you pressed your lips together. Confused and scared by the phantom touch assaulting your nether region. Clutching your skirt, you try to maintain confused whimpers as the touches didn't stop.

You're scared.

The moment something pushed inside you, you stand up and excuse yourself, running to the nearest restroom. Your feet quick as you open a random stall and sit on the toilet. Your breathing heavy as you shakily lifts your skirt, looking at the wet patch on your panty.

What's happening? Why are you wet? How can something touching you there? You're not imagining this, right?

Your mind raced as you become more terrified. Is a ghost haunting you? Tears pool on your eyes, sniffling as the assault become more aggressive.

***

Fuck, this fleshlight was the best thing he ever bought. How was this even made? Whatever. He continues to pump his thick finger, inserting another one and he jump a bit as he felt the walls suck on his fingers. Damn, it can even do that? Just how realistic can this toy be? He's not complaining though.

He decided to touch the clit earning another tight squeeze. What a sensitive toy. He continues to play, eventually adding another finger. It was weird how the warm walls didn't run out of lube, if this were any normal toy it'd need to be lubricated after few minutes but this toy seems to produce it on its on.

He pulls out his fingers as he inspects the inside, it's undeniable that it's fake but the way it pulsates around nothing makes it a bit questionable on how it works.

Would your cunt also look like that? He could imagine your wrecked heaving face after fingering you. Poor little you never had something inside, let alone this thick fingers. He couldn't wait for the moment he'll ruin you.

***

You're straight up crying as an additional thick sensation pumped your insides. Squeezing your thighs shut, like it's gonna do something to stop the phantom. Everything inside you screams to remove the intrusion but you didn't know how. Opening your legs slightly, your shaky fingers removing your panty to see what's happening inside your cunt... but nothing was there. Only a gape.

Your fingers shifts towards the gape, gasping as the invincible touch was able to touch you yet you couldn't even see or feel it. Squirming uncomfortably, as you open your legs more to try and get "it" out with your fingers. Uselessly grabbing air, whimpering and sobbing as you fail to interrupt with its continuous pumping. Your stomach twisting and an unfamiliar coil was starting to unravel, your breath hitching and legs shaking.

But it's abruptly stop as the phantom pulled away.

Finally, relief and a little bit of disappointment fills your chest. Slumping on the toilet, panting like you run a marathon. You shift a bit as you sit upright, freezing as something thick pokes your entrance.

No way...

Your brain panics, your gaze staring at the way your hole widens and your legs subconsciously spreading more to prepare yourself for the inevitable. You clutch the wall of the stall, each hand gripping the surface. Tears streaming down your face and your cheeks getting hot.

This can't be happening.

You felt the thick thing stretch you open.

***

Something about fucking a fleshlight should embarrass him. But nah, with you in his mind there's nothing to be ashamed. This is just practice to him after all, he'll do this things eventually.

With his heavy cock around his fingers, he taps the opening of the fleshlight. His other hand grips the hip. Rubbing along the slit, he collects lube running on the head of his cock, catching the clit in the process. He lets out a breath, as he finally starts pushing his cock inside.

He's quite big, so he's a bit worried if he'll fit in some shady toy but he's sure he'll fit in you just right, even if he had to force himself in your tiny cunt.

But there's no need for consideration when it comes to a toy.

He sheath inside in one thrust.

Hissing at the way the walls clings to him, tightly wrapping around his cock and pulsating as if rejecting a foreign object. Shit, why does it feel like a virgin?

Warm, wet, and tight. The perfect toy pussy for him, this could even rival a real pussy if he were being honest. No time for adjusting as he starts to thrust. Pounding the onahole, roughly gripping the hips and fucking hard. Shit shit shit why does this feel so good? This stupid toy feels a whole lot better compare to a random slut.

His hips going hard and the way he feels the inside pulsating, sucking all his worth making him groan. Such a tight fake cunt.

He wonder if he can break the toy.

***

With a silent scream, your head jerk up as the big stretch was too sudden for your body to take. Legs wide open as you try to create space for the large object. You sob as quiet as possible, as the phantom starts pounding hard at your sensitive cunt. You want to scream but held back, tears blurring your vision as you pray for it to end.

Whimpering and sobbing was the only thing you can do. Waiting for the thrusting to stop, you teeth bite your lip to stop noise from escaping. It doesn't sound like you at all, it's weird, you're scared and confused.

Your mind tries to think of a distraction, to think of anything but the mysterious assault. How is this even happening? What did you do to deserve this? Why you?

Your breath hitched as you feel the tight coil in your stomach again. Moaning a little as you feel pleasure rising though you. Your hands clasp over your mouth, muffling your noise. You shake your head as the coil gets tighter and tighter, your legs shaking as you stutter words of apology to whoever's doing this.

And it snaps.

Your vision going white, body stiffening and eyes going into the back of your head.

Ah. You never felt this... good before.

It takes you a few minutes to recover. Your limbs feel like jelly, your chest rising up and down in a slow manner, and you greedily gulp air.

You were tired and exhausted but you were glad the assault has stop after that. You groggily starts to lift you panty's up however you felt something dripping down your hole.

... you wonder what it was.

***

After that day, the mysterious phantom would touch you at random times, when you're showering, classes, or even in bed late at night. It was torturous, you were becoming paranoid and it didn't go unnoticed by one of your best friend.

He's helping you study in the library as you'd ask him for his guidance in physics. You would've asked your other friend, but you can just imagine him play with your hair or something along of not really helping you study.

You're breathe hitch as you feel the phantom ghost rubbing your cunt. Shrinking on your sit, uncomfortably rubbing your legs.

"Something bothering you?" He ask, looking a bit concern of your shiftiness.

"O-oh, it's nothing. Just a little tired lately," You reassured, smiling as you pretend to be fine.

His sharp gaze examined your face before dropping the subject, deciding to just help you study.

"If you need something to talk to. I'm right here, ok?"

You smiled forcefully, "I-I will... Thank you."

***

You could never bring yourself to tell someone about it. No one would ever believe you.

You're laying in bed waiting for the phantom, already memorizing the way it'll touch you. You brace for the touch as you can't help but feel helpless. Are you going to live like this your entire life? You don't want to...

But would someone be willing to listen to you? To believe you? You don't wanna bother your best friend, you knew how busy he's gotten the recent days and you're doubtful that he'll even listen to your story when he's the rational one. That means...

Your thoughts were interrupted by the intrusion as you clutch your pillow and close your eyes. You're panting as the phantom starts its routine.

You're scared... You're scared that it's starting to feel good.

No. You don't want to be alone anymore on this.

You need help. Badly.

You shakily gets up from bed, putting some jacket on as you heads towards someone who can help you... At least you believe who will do.

***

"Oh? What's my little darling doing here at this late of night?" He grins as he opened the door with the sight of you.

You fidget with your jacket as you feel small under his gaze, "P-Please help me."

He raised his eyebrow, his grin replacing with a thin line. Yeah, he's playful but he'll never joke around when you're having a problem, "Come inside, we'll talk there, sweetie."

Sitting on his couch, you took a deep breath as you prepare to tell someone about this problem of yours. He won't make fun of you right? He won't be weirded out, right? He's a reliable person and your best friend.

He sits beside you, a serious and concerned expression on his face. It was rare to see him like this, which encourage you to finally tell him.

By the end, you were crying and hiccuping in your hands about the experiences you encounter with that phantom. Feeling his hand rub your back, cooing at you in comfort. He pulls your head to rest on his chest, telling you that everything's going to be fine.

You sob out a thank you, finding relief to finally get it out of your chest.

Unbeknownst to you, the man was smiling.

***

He didn't know if God was on his side. But, he didn't expect this would happen.

Who would've thought that the toy he was playing with was connected with cute lil you?

He didn't believe it at first but the way you described the timing was too much of a coincidence. Sweet little thing, don't worry you won't experience any scary thing from now on.

"Sweetie, do you want me to chase that scary invisible phantom away?" He cups your cheeks in his hands, locking gaze with you.

You sniffle before nodding, "Y-Yes, please..."

He gave you a toothy smile before gently pushing you down on his couch. His fingers swiping away your tears, "Listen to me, ok? I need you to trust me on this." His nose touching with yours as he leans close.

"O-ok... I trust you."

Dumb little girl.

You shouldn't have said that.

Now you've sealed your fate.

***

He wonders what was going on with you back when he helped you study in the library. Something was very off about you, and you were clearly uncomfortable to brought it up.

He thinks of you very often even when he's busy and swarmed with school works. Sometimes, getting frustrated to even continue and wants to just go to your place. He massages his aching temple, resting on his chair before a box caught his attention.

Oh yeah, that stupid guy gave him that a few weeks ago.

He recalls their conversation about it, saying that it'll help him release some stress. Well, he's plenty stressed now so why don't he test it out now?

He saunters to the box, sitting on the floor to unravel it. Only to be surprised by the object inside it.

An onahole...

If he was his usual self he would've flung this across the room and throw it to the garbage bin. But sometimes he needs to be relieve as well, plus he's a man too,

He's not that picky too.

This'll do for him.

A temporary replacement while thinking of your cunt.

[honeyncherry]

taste me now - bfb!rafe

summary in which rafe can’t help himself around his little sister’s best friend, especially after what happened last week

content 18+, suggestive

masterlist

Sarah’s laugh rang out across the backyard as the two of you sat by the pool. She was mid-story, something about Kiara’s latest terrible date, or maybe it was JJ’s? You weren’t sure. Her words blurred together, punctuated by exaggerated hand gestures and little bursts of laughter. 

You were doing your best to listen — really, you were.

But you could feel him. 

Rafe was up on the deck, leaning against the railing like he had all the time in the world. A cigarette balanced between his fingers, the faint trail of smoke curled lazily into the air drifting in soft, spiraling ribbons. And while his gaze stayed mostly fixed on the horizon, you knew better.

He wasn’t looking at you, not overtly, at least. But the occasional flick of his gaze in your direction was enough to make your stomach twist.

The memory of that kiss burned hotter than the relentless summer sun. You’d told yourself it was a mistake. An impulsive, heat-of-the-moment lapse in judgment. You were Sarah’s best friend, for goodness’ sake!

There were rules about these things. 

Rules you’d shattered the second his lips touched yours.

And yet, even now, you couldn’t stop thinking about it. About the way his hand had lingered on that sliver of exposed skin between your top and too-short skirt, his touch leaving a trail of warmth that refused to fade. How his other hand settled at the curve of your jaw, his thumb grazing your cheek with a quiet, consuming intensity. As though he were mapping every contour, committing it to memory. And most of all, the way he’d breathed out your name, his voice deep and reverent, like it was something sacred. Something meant to be cherished by him alone.

You shifted in your chair, skin prickling under the weight of your own thoughts. The guilt coiled tight in your chest, its grip almost suffocating. You told yourself again and again that you shouldn’t be looking at him. You shouldn’t even be thinking about him.

But you couldn’t stop.

“Ugh, one sec,” Sarah said suddenly, cutting through the haze in your mind. She glanced at her phone, frowning. “It’s Wheezie. If I don’t answer, she’s gonna call like, five more times.”

She stood, her hair swaying behind her as she made her way toward the house, already pressing the phone to her ear. “I’ll be right back,” she called over her shoulder.

You nodded mutely, not trusting yourself to speak. The moment she disappeared inside the backyard seemed quieter somehow. All sounds around you faded into an oppressive stillness.

You focused in on the pool, trying to steady your breathing while watching the water ripple in the light breeze. Trying to remind yourself that there was nothing to worry about.

But you felt it before you saw him.

A shift in the air. A weight pressing down on your senses. The faint smell of smoke lingering even though the cigarette had been long gone.

His sudden presence made your pulse quicken, and you wondered how he’d gotten so close without you noticing. “Hey baby,” he husked, his voice soft and hurried as he glanced behind him, checking to make sure Sarah wasn’t returning.

“Rafe—” you started, your voice faltering as you looked up. But he didn’t let you finish.

He leaned down abruptly, one hand gripping the armrest of your chair, the other sliding to the back of your head in one swift, almost desperate motion. His fingers tangled in the hair at the nape of your neck without hesitation, and before you could utter another word, he pulled you toward him, his lips crashing into yours.

Once again, you found yourself succumbing to Rafe Cameron far too easily. The kiss was reckless, charged with the heat and tension that had been brewing between you for weeks. Rafe’s teeth teased your lips, his breath warm and beyond intoxicating.

Your hands twitched at your sides, unsure whether to push him away or pull him closer. Instead, they froze, clawing at the fabric of your chair as if anchoring yourself would somehow steady the whirlwind inside you. Your heart clenched, and a shaky exhale escaped against his lips.

Your heart raced, its pounding so fierce it silenced everything else, leaving the world around you a distant blur. Guilt clawed at your mind even as your body betrayed you, leaning ever so slightly into him, just enough to feel his hard chest brushing up against your tits. Rafe groans, pulling away and looking down as they spill out from your bikini top.

He licks his lips, glancing up and shooting you a sleazy grin. He stares just long enough for the both of you to catch a single breath, before muttering two words that would echo in your mind for the next week: “Missed this.”

He kisses you again, lips and tongue all over you. Your mouth, your cheek, your jaw. They move frantically from your ear to your neck. You gasp as a new flood of emotions crashes over you, threatening to pull you under while your hands reach up to grab him. To touch him. To feel him.

“Rafe,” you whispered again, this time more of a plea.

But he’d already pulled back. His movements were measured, almost like he was savoring the moment.

His smirk lingered, curling at the corners of his lips like he knew exactly what chaos he was leaving behind. His gaze flicked to your lips one last time, a shadow of something unreadable crossing his face before he turned his head.

He glanced over his shoulder, pausing for the briefest moment as Sarah’s voice floated faintly from inside the house.

Then, with maddening composure, he straightened. Every movement exuded an infuriating sense of calm, as though nothing just happened.

With his hands slipping casually into his pockets, he turned and headed toward the docks, the sunlight catching the sharp angles of his profile before he disappeared from sight.

You were frozen in place, breath hitched in your throat. Leaning slightly forward, you were still caught in the lingering pull of where he’d held you just seconds ago. Your fingers brushed against your lips, as if needing proof that it had really happened… again.

A weight pressed against your chest, the same dangerous pull from last week, but now it hit harder. It was stronger, deeper, and even more impossible to ignore.

The sound of Sarah’s footsteps jolted you back to reality. Your gaze snapped toward the house just as she stepped outside, phone in hand.

“Ugh, finally,” she groaned, dropping into her chair with a dramatic sigh. The legs scraped faintly against the concrete as she slouched back, completely unaware of the storm still raging inside you. “Wheezie wouldn’t shut up about this jacket she found on sale. I swear, I’m blocking her next time.”

She trailed off, her nose wrinkling as she sniffed the air. Her eyes narrowed, scanning the space around you, “wait. Does it smell like smoke out here?”

No.

Your body went rigid, heart slamming against your ribs like it was trying to break free. “Uh, I don’t think so?” 

Sarah turned sharply, her gaze locking onto you. “Are you sure?” she asked, leaning in closer.

The moment stretched unbearably, your pulse roaring in your ears as you forced a shrug, silently begging her not to see the guilt etched across your face.

“Well, whatever,” she said at last, leaning back in her chair with a dismissive wave. “I swear, Rafe stinks up the whole house when he smokes. So gross.”

You swallowed hard, your tongue brushing over your lips. The faint taste of smoke lingered there, branded on your skin.

You hated how much you liked it.

[punkshort]

Just Friends

Thank you @brittmb115 for this prompt!

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader

Summary: Accompanying your friend Javier to his holiday work party seemed simple enough until it gets a little too hard to just pretend to be dating.

Warnings: language, fake dating, one bed trope, sexual tension, jealousy, flirting, cigarette use, alcohol use, friends to lovers, reader has insecurities about her looks, fingering, smut (18+ MDNI), unprotected piv sex

WC: 6.4K

dividers by @saradika-graphics

"Please, cariño, it's just one night. The party's at a casino about two hours outside the city. The DEA paid for hotel rooms 'cause they're worried about people drinking and driving. We'll be back by noon on Saturday, you'll still have your whole weekend to mope around over Travis," Javi begged as he followed you around your kitchen.

"Trent," you corrected with a glare over your shoulder. Javi just waved you off.

"Yeah, whatever. His name doesn't matter anymore, now does it?" he countered with an arched brow. You frowned and continued to put your dishes away.

Javier was right - Trent's name didn't matter anymore. Not after he dumped you out of the blue, two weeks before Christmas. He probably didn't want to buy you a gift, Javier had said when you called him up crying. It wasn't exactly the most comforting thing to hear, but at least he made you laugh.

"And why is it you don't want to attend this event by yourself? I thought you would have wanted to take some poor secretary back to your room for the evening," you said, flipping the dishwasher closed before playfully adding, "This better not be some sick move to try to get into my pants again." Javi pulled out his carton of cigarettes and began to anxiously tap it against his palm. When you whisked by, you smacked it out of his hand with a warning: do not smoke in my house.

"You've made it very clear I won't be touching your pants, hermosa," he chuckled, recalling a handful of failed attempts to get you into bed before giving up entirely. "But, uh, I've been taking one too many secretaries home lately," Javi admitted with a lopsided grin. "Got one real pissed at me for not calling her back. Had to make up a lie that I had gotten back together with an ex, so..."

Your jaw dropped and you stared daggers at him with your hands on your hips.

"So not only are you asking me to go with you to this party, but I'm supposed to pretend we're dating?" you clarified, ignoring the butterflies in your stomach. When he nodded sheepishly, you tossed your hands in the hair and began to curse under your breath.

"Oh, come on! It won't be that bad! It's not like she's gonna say anything. It's just for looks. Hell, you never know. Maybe you'll meet someone at this thing. I could be doing you the favor of a lifetime," he said before hopping up to sit on your kitchen island. You smacked his knee when you walked past and he grinned.

"I have barstools, you know."

"Yeah, but I like it up here. Better view," he winked and jutted his chin towards your v-neck shirt.

"Gross," you scowled, making him laugh. He took a handful of nuts from the bowl on your counter and shook them in his hand like dice.

"So? What's it gonna be? You in?"

You watched him tip his head back, pouring some peanuts in his mouth, and you sighed. What the hell. You didn't have anything better to do.

"Fine."

Javier jumped off the counter excitedly. "Thank you! I owe you one!" he exclaimed before heading for your door. "I gotta run. I'll pick you up around noon on Friday. And, hey - bring a dress. The party is a little formal."

You rolled your eyes and groaned, then shooed him out your door. "Thanks. Now I have to figure out a damn outfit."

"You're the best!" he shouted happily from his car. You shut your door and turned around to sag against the wood, finally surrounded with silence. Something you thought you were craving until you had it, and then suddenly you realized you had never felt more alone in your life.

"Where the hell is this place?" you asked, staring out the passenger seat of Javier's jeep. It felt like the car kept climbing higher and higher, and the way your ears were popping, you were thinking your hunch was right.

"It's a hotel slash casino up in the hills," he said with a nod towards the open, winding road. "Supposed to have a hell of a view."

"Yeah, guess so," you muttered, then gasped when a clearing came into view and you saw just how high up you really were. "Oh, my god! Javi - look!"

"I'm driving, cariño," he reminded you with a smirk, but his eyes still flickered quickly over the ridge.

"Wow," you said breathlessly. The view was spectacular. Miles and miles of hills and trees surrounded a sprawling hotel/casino. If you were closer to the edge, you would be able to see a lazy river snaking around the bottom of the mountain.

"Alright. So what's the story?" you asked when you settled back in your seat. There was still a ways to go until you reached the casino, but you could see it from the road nestled into the landscape.

"What story?"

"Our story," you said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "You told a girl you got back together with an ex. So, why did we originally break up?"

"Oh," Javi said, scratching his chin. "I don't know. You really think it matters?"

"Maybe. Who knows? Probably a good idea we at least talk about it," you shrugged.

Javi thought about it for a minute before snapping his fingers. "You wanted marriage and I didn't."

You made a face and shook your head.

"That would imply we're on the path to getting engaged. You really think you can fake a whole marriage because you pissed off a girl at work?"

"Yeah, good point," he mumbled before falling quiet to think about it some more. After a few minutes, he came up with another idea. "How about you were gonna move away for a job and we didn't want to do long distance, but the job fell through and you stayed?"

You nodded slowly, rolling the idea around in your head.

"Yeah, that's good. That'll work. Then one day to explain why you're single again, you can say I got another job offer out of state or something."

"Exactly."

"Alright. Easy enough," you hummed, then turned to gaze out your window again. Javi watched you for a few minutes out of the corner of his eye, his jaw working back and forth while he tried to come up with the right words to express his gratitude.

"Hey, uh," he said, clearing his throat. You turned to look at him expectantly. "I just wanna thank you again. I know you're going through a tough time and all that-"

"Don't mention it," you said dismissively. "It's not a big deal. Plenty of guys out there, right?"

Javi gave you a tight smile. "Yeah. Sure."

One thing that you didn't have a chance to fully think through was the sleeping situation. As Javi checked you in and you heard the girl at the front desk confirm one king sized bed, you felt yourself stiffen. He signed and grabbed the keys, then shot you a warm smile before gesturing towards the elevators. From the looks of it, Javier didn't mind one bit. Then, of course, it was Javier...

"No funny business," you declared when you entered your room and Javier flopped down tiredly on the huge bed. "You stick to your side, I'll stick to mine."

"Whatever you say, cariño," he replied with his eyes closed. "I'll be reminding you of that later tonight when you're all over me after a few drinks."

"That was one time and I told you I was sorry!" you exclaimed, cheeks burning from the memory.

Your relationship in the past with Javier was... complicated. When you first met, it felt like you kept seeking each other out at all the worst times. Whenever you made a move, he was unavailable, and vice versa. Eventually, you had decided to just be friends and left it at that. And it worked well. You had an easy relationship where it felt effortless and natural to go to the other with some exciting news, and sought a shoulder to cry on if something bad happened. It just seemed to work better without the romantic element.

All of that aside, at the crux of the issue was you were a romantic, through and through. You liked being in long term relationships. You enjoyed the comfort and peace it brought. Javier, on the other hand, was the exact opposite. You couldn't even remember the last time he brought the same girl out for drinks more than once and you had a suspicion he had never been in love.

"I'm just messing with you. Can't help it, I like when you're all flustered," Javi said before sitting up with a groan. When he stretched, you found your eyes drifting down to where his shirt rode up, revealing a small sliver of bronzed skin. You swallowed and forced yourself to look away because no matter how many times you reminded yourself it would never work between you, it didn't stop you from being unbearably attracted to him.

It was the confidence that he exuded. That was what you had finally decided was the thing that kept you drawn to him in a decidedly less-than-friendly way. But of course, you were quick to remember you weren't the only one who was attracted to his charm. Half the women in the city noticed it, too. You had just gotten very good at hiding it.

"What time's the party start?" you asked, hauling your duffel bag onto the bed so you could begin to unpack your toiletries. The first thing you did was take out the dark red slinky dress you bought so you could steam out the wrinkles with the iron packed away in the coat closet. What you didn't notice was the way Javier's eyes greedily locked onto the fabric while you moved around the room.

"Uh..." he murmured, his pulse quickening when he saw the plunging neckline of your dress. "That new?"

You furrowed your brow and turned around. "Yeah. I didn't exactly have anything suitable so I went shopping. Why? You don't like it?"

"No, no... it's perfect," he assured you. Javier blinked a few times, snapping himself out of it, and looked at you. "Very... festive."

You grinned and hung up the dress on the back of the bathroom door. "Thanks. I thought so, too. So... the party? What time?"

"Oh, right. Cocktail hour starts at five, dinner's at seven then dancing or whatever til who knows when."

You glanced at your watch and made a face after you did a quick pass with the iron.

"I better get in the shower, then," you said, grabbing your things. Javier leaned back onto the headboard and flicked on the television with the ease of a man who didn't intend on putting in much work on his appearance for evening. However, once you finished your hair and makeup and stepped out of the bathroom in that damn dress, he suddenly felt like he should have tried a little harder.

"Maybe I should put something in my hair," he muttered, his fingers flicking through the dark locks as he stared at his reflection in the mirror. You appeared in the doorway of the bathroom looking way too fucking attractive to be his date, let alone masquerading as his girlfriend. Your brows pinched together as you looked at his hair and it took every last ounce of willpower not to let his eyes fall to your cleavage in that tight dress.

"I think your hair looks good," you said. When you reached up to fix a stray piece of his hair, he cleared his throat and twisted away.

"Alright, let's get this thing over with," he mumbled as he slid past you and headed towards the door.

"What's got you so grumpy?"

"Nothing. Just need a drink and a smoke."

"You're gonna abandon me with a bunch of DEA agents to go smoke for ten minutes?" you whined, following him out of your hotel room towards the elevators.

"You could always join me. You'd look like Bette Davis smoking a cigarette and wearing that dress," he replied when you both stepped inside the elevator. He tapped the lobby button and grinned down at you.

"You and Bette Davis," you laughed, rolling your eyes.

"What? She made smoking look so damn cool."

"Yeah, well, I think I'm going to pass," you told him. "I'll get a drink and mingle. Maybe find one of the girls you pissed off and have a cat fight."

Javi chuckled and shook his head. "That's a long list, baby. Shouldn't be too hard."

When the elevator doors slid open, you could hear the music thumping from the ballroom and laughter echoing off the walls.

"Sounds like they didn't waste any time," you said to Javier.

"Are you kidding? When the government gives you an open bar, you fucking milk it," he replied before taking one step towards the front doors. "You sure you're good for a few?"

"Yeah, I'll be fine," you said, waving him off. He nodded and pulled out his pack of cigarettes. Before he even made it to the door, he slipped one in between his lips.

The ballroom was pretty full already, Javi was right: when government employees have a chance to let loose, they jump at the opportunity. The entire room was decorated in Christmas lights, garland, and at least five different trees. The DJ was cycling through a mix of Christmas carols, pop music, and classic rock. Some people already shaking their hips on the dance floor with drinks in their hands. You spotted two different bars set up, so you made your way to the nearest one and ordered a white wine. As you waited, you bopped your head along to the beat of Last Christmas while mindlessly scrolling on your phone.

"Jack Daniels, neat," a man's deep voice said from beside you when the bartender placed your wine glass on a coaster. You thanked him and slid a few dollars across the bar before taking a sip.

"Excuse me... have we met?"

You turned to look at your neighbor and slowly shook your head. He was cute. Blonde hair parted to one side, mustache, lean but strong physique and sparkling blue eyes.

"No, we haven't," you said before offering your hand and name.

"Steve," he grinned, giving your hand a firm shake before accepting his drink with a nod and a couple bucks in the tip jar. "What department do you work in?"

"Oh, I don't work for the DEA, I'm here with someone," you said, leaning closer. You watched his face fall when you implied you weren't single and you pursed your lips. How the hell would Javi expect you to meet anyone when you had to pretend to be his girlfriend?

"I mean, just a friend. A good friend," you added, praying you didn't blow Javi's cover the first time you opened your mouth. "Uh, what do you do?"

"I'm an agent," he told you, chest puffing with pride. "Takin' down drug rings one scumbag at a time."

"Wow. That's so impressive," you gushed. You saw the way his cheeks flushed a bit and preened when he glanced down at your chest. "That must be so hard. What's your favorite part about the job?"

"Goin' to the Christmas party and meeting beautiful women like you," he shot back smoothly, making you giggle and toss your hair flirtatiously over your shoulder. Steve's gaze dragged up and down your dress appreciatively before adding, "I mean it. You look stunning. Should've known someone like you didn't work for the DEA."

"Oh, stop," you giggled, feeling your face warm from his compliment.

"Where are you sitting? Maybe I can convince you to dance after dinner? Now fair warning, I got two left feet, but I got a feeling no one's gonna be lookin' at me," Steve grinned, taking a step closer and grazing his thumb along your bare arm.

"Hmm, that sounds-"

"Murphy."

You both twisted around to find Javier storming across the room. And storming was really the only word for it. His fists were clenched and his jaw pulled tight like he was about to take a swing at Steve.

"Javi," you greeted him sweetly with a smile. At the same time, Steve said, "Peña."

"What's going on here?" he asked, sidling up so he could wedge himself between you and Steve.

"Nothing. Steve and I were just talking," you said innocently.

"Looked like more than that," Javier huffed. His tone and the serious look on his face made you falter. Did you do something wrong?

"Well-"

"I was just asking her for a dance after dinner. Relax, Jav," Steve joked with a playful punch to his shoulder. When Javi remained stoic and unmoving at your side, the smile slowly slipped from Steve's face.

"Oh, shit. Sorry. I thought you were just friends."

"We are," you said quickly, but Steve was already backing away.

"Enjoy your night! It was lovely to meet you," Steve said with a wink before disappearing into the crowd. You swiveled on your heel to glare at Javi.

"Why didn't you correct him?" you seethed.

Javi just shrugged, his relaxed demeanor slipping back in place, and leaned up against the bar to flag down a bartender. "You can do better than Steve."

"Who are you to say?" you argued back after he ordered a whiskey. "We were clicking! And he's cute, why-"

"'Cause I don't want you fucking my partner, hermosa, that's why," Javi snapped. Your eyes widened and you clamped your mouth shut for a moment.

"He's your partner? Why didn't you ever introduce us before? He's-"

"C'mon, let's go find the appetizers or something," he said after snatching his glass from the bar top. It was very evident you wouldn't be getting any more information out of Javier so you decided to drop the subject. But as the happy hour inched along with your third drink in your hand and Javi's arm finding a permanent home around your waist as he introduced you to his coworkers, your mind kept drifting back to that hardened look he had given you and Steve. The butterflies in your stomach churned to life every time you thought about it, your memory twisting things so you could pretend he was jealous over you flirting with another man. It wasn't that hard to imagine, really. He could hardly keep himself from touching either your waist or lower back or grabbing your hand. It fed the little fantasy in your head, deluding yourself into thinking he was subtly trying to claim you in front of the whole party, warning others to stay away.

You had given up reminding yourself that the fake relationship schtick was just an act by the end of dinner. It was too nice to pretend otherwise.

Javi had been wrapped up in a long winded conversation with the man seated on the other side of him, but your heart was fluttering the whole time because from the moment he set his silverware down, his hand hadn't once left your leg.

With a dreamy smile plastered across your face, your eyes casually drifted around the room. People were already beginning to dance but many still remained at their dinner tables chatting. You had been quietly admiring the artwork on the walls and sipping from your glass when you felt the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. It was hard to explain, but you just felt like someone was staring at you. Doing your best to be subtle, you shifted in your seat and let your gaze wander around the room again until you found the source.

There was a table to your left, half of which was empty, but five young women remained staring in your direction. Some had drinks dangling from their fingers, one had a scowl and another was leaning in to whisper something in her ear.

There was no question one of the girls must have been one of Javi's scorned lovers. If not all of them. Your heart sunk a little when you saw how beautiful they were and you forced yourself to look away.

Javier was handsome, he had charm, and he was funny. A lethal combination that managed to get him in bed with some extremely drop dead gorgeous women. It was then you felt your insecurities flare up. How could anyone buy you were a couple when he was used to having girls like that on his arm?

With Javier still talking, you stood up from your chair, suddenly feeling flustered and overwhelmed.

He stopped speaking mid sentence to look up and ask, "Where are you going?"

"Uh," you glanced around and swallowed nervously. "I think I just need some fresh air. I'll be right back."

"I'll go with you," he said, immediately standing. "I'll catch up with you later, Jim," Javi added over his shoulder before hurrying to catch up with you. When his palm pressed against your back, your feet automatically slowed.

"What's going on? Drink too much?"

"No. Well, maybe. I don't know," you rambled, eyes scanning for the exit. "I just feel like I don't fit in here."

"What? Why?" he asked, grabbing your arm and spinning you around. His face was filled with concern as he tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear. "You're doing great, cariño. I thought you were having fun."

"I was. I am," you stammered, and then your gaze landed on the table of girls, most of which had moved on to something else.

Before you could tear your eyes away, Javier noticed where you were looking and sighed.

"Yeah, sorry. I told you, I pissed off a woman or two here."

"It's not that," you mumbled, now staring down at the floor.

"Then what is it?"

You felt your cheeks flush and you couldn't look him in the eye when you finally admitted, "They're really pretty, Javi."

He just scoffed and took your hand in his.

"You're prettier."

You laughed lightly and shook your head. "Yeah, right. It's a good thing there's an open bar. Otherwise, I'm not sure people would believe we're together when you're usually seen with girls like that."

"Hey," Javi said softly. He hooked a finger under your chin and tilted it up so you would look at him. "Don't say that. You look better than anyone else here. If you weren't already, I'd be trying to get you up to my room right now," he said with a smirk. You giggled a little and sighed.

"Sorry. I guess I just had a moment or something," you said, breathing deep. Javi looked around the room and noticed how the dance floor was beginning to fill up.

"Wanna dance?"

You smiled and pulled your lower lip between your teeth as you watched others having fun on the dance floor. Without waiting for your answer, Javi tugged your hand and tilted his head, urging you to follow him. "C'mon, don't leave me hanging."

You laughed and let him lead you to the dance floor, weaving through the throngs of people until he found a little wiggle room, but right when he turned back to look at you with a big, goofy smile, the fast tempo switched to a much slower ballad. Javi cocked an eyebrow at you and extended a hand, unphased.

With a smile of your own, you took his hand and let him pull you in close. His fingers laced together with yours while his other arm wrapped around your middle and your free hand came to rest on his shoulder.

"Hey, you can dance," he teased when you fell into rhythm with him effortlessly.

"Of course I can dance," you said, rolling your eyes. Being that close to him, you could smell his aftershave, the whiskey on his breath, and a faint hint of cigarette smoke from earlier. The smell you had unknowingly grown to love. The smell that was, simply put, Javier.

You gazed up at him, smiling at the little pink tinting his cheeks and the glassy look in his eye. He looked so fucking adorable it almost pained you.

"Can I ask you something, Javi?" you asked quietly. His eyes softened at your tone and he nodded. "Why were you so mad earlier when I was talking to Steve? Really?"

The corner of his mouth twitched and his eyes flickered somewhere behind you as he considered his answer.

"I think you know why."

When he looked back down at you, the playfulness was gone. His eyes carried something else in them. Something he couldn't bring himself to say. Then your heart skipped a beat and your breath caught in your throat when you saw it. The look you had been aching to see from him for years. The same look you were giving him at the very same time.

And then it hit you. Yeah, you knew why.

It turned out Javier was much more popular at work than you ever expected. You had spent the rest of your dance trying to come up with the right thing to say, but you panicked and lost your chance when Javier's boss nudged his shoulder while dancing with his wife. The four of you fell into a conversation - the men about work, you and his boss's wife about Christmas bargains - in the middle of the dance floor. When you realized you were in the way, the conversation moved to the bar. After that, an investigator joined in the conversation with her girlfriend and before you knew it, it was nearly midnight and the moment you had with Javi on the dance floor was long forgotten.

Or so you thought.

It had been a long night. You were exhausted and your feet ached from the new shoes you picked out to match your dress. You had hoped to possibly find an opening and talk to Javi about what you thought he implied during your dance, but while you were waiting for him to wash up, you passed out cold.

One thing you knew for certain was you were on your side of the bed when you fell asleep. You knew that because your side faced the bathroom and you had rolled over to wait for Javi before you fell asleep. However, you couldn't explain why you woke up around three in the morning with your cheek resting on his shoulder and your arm wrapped around his waist.

Well, maybe you could explain it. It was probably your subconscious trying to seek him out after spending the evening being so close to him. No matter the reason, you knew you had to sneak back to your side of the bed before he woke up, so you slowly began to extract your arm.

"Where're you goin'?" Javi murmured sleepily. Your eyes widened and your heart began to race.

"Nowhere, just go back to sleep," you whispered, pulling your arm away. Just as you were about to roll over, Javi's hand shot out to grab your wrist. You froze, cheek still pressed against his shoulder, and slowly lifted your eyes up to meet his.

It was hard to see in the dark, but from what you could tell, he was wide awake. His dark brown eyes continued to study your face while you fumbled for words.

"Javi?" you said, voice sounding so small in the quiet room. His eyes flickered anxiously between yours for another moment before he came to his decision. In one quick movement, he had rolled you onto your back, his hips fitting perfectly between your legs as he caged you in.

"Javi," you said again, although this time sounding far more breathless and aroused than you intended.

He swallowed tightly, gaze flickering from your eyes to your lips before he whispered, "Do you feel it too, cariño?"

You shifted underneath him, eyelids fluttering when you felt his arousal pressing up against the inside of your thigh.

"Yes," you whispered back.

His mouth crashed against yours in an instant. It was rougher than you expected it to be but you didn't mind. You understood because you felt it, too. All that time wasted, dancing around something that was right in front of you the entire time. It was bound to drive anyone a little crazy, a little hungry.

Before you knew it, your fingers were in his hair, dragging down his shoulders, and then tugging at his shirt, and all the while his mouth remained cemented against yours. He had to pull away to yank his white tshirt over his head and you heard yourself make a pathetic little noise, like you couldn't possibly survive without his kiss, not even for one second.

"Take this off," he panted, lifting your oversized shirt halfway up your torso. You didn't need to be told twice. You flung it off and pulled Javier back down before he even had a chance to take a good look at your bare chest.

Everything was moving so fast but given the amount of time it took you to get there, it felt like a fucking eternity. He expertly tugged your shorts and underwear off while your tongues fought for dominance in each other's mouths. It wasn't even until you felt his fingers brush against your cunt that you realized you were entirely undressed.

"Oh, god... Javi!" you cried out brokenly when he slipped two fingers inside of you.

His mouth fell to your chin and he made a strangled sound, curling his fingers when he said, "Fuck, baby, when you say my name like that..."

His hand maintained a steady rhythm between your legs, reaching for that spot that made your back curl off the bed every time he thrusted inside. His other hand got lost in your hair, tipping your face so he could feverishly lock his lips with yours while dragging your first orgasm to the surface with a few circles over your sensitive clit.

"Javi! Wait... I'm gonna - I'm gonna come -" you gasped, unable to stop your hips from rolling up and meeting his hand.

"Go ahead, hermosa. I got you."

"No," you whimpered, muscles going tense. You were getting to the point of no return and you needed to stop him. "I wanna - I want you to fuck me, Javi. I - I wanna -"

Your head fell back into the pillow, unable to complete your sentence.

"I am. I'm gonna fuck you," he assured you, lips ghosting the shell of your ear and wrist snapping faster between your thighs. "I'll make you come on my cock, don't worry, baby. Just let go, c'mon, you can do that for me, right?"

"Oh, fuck," you gasped, eyes squeezed shut. "Fuck, fuck, fu- yes, Javi, yes! More... please-"

"Christ, cariño, you're gonna wake the whole fucking hotel," he chuckled, but you were too far gone to care. You tilted your chin to the ceiling, his name echoing off the walls as you came. It felt like your heart was going to beat right out of your chest, like your legs were so weak you may never walk again, yet somehow it wasn't enough. Not for either of you. In fact, it only seemed to make you each more desperate.

Your kisses on his skin became messy, both of you so eager to have the other that there was no room to worry about being too fast or abrasive. Your teeth clashed together when your arm curved around his neck, yanking him down to your level. Your shared hot breaths mingled with each pant and gasp. When you reached down to wrap your fingers around the heavy weight of his cock, he moaned into your open mouth and slid his fingers from your pussy so you could line him up with your entrance, neither of you in any mood to wait a second longer.

"Fu-uck," he groaned when he pushed inside of you, burying himself to the hilt in one go. You gasped and sharply bit down on his shoulder when tears sprung up and threatened to spill down your cheeks.

"You okay?" he panted, planting weak kisses against the side of your face. All you could do was nod. He filled you and stretched you so perfectly that it took your breath away and left you speechless. He nodded, too, lips parted as he puffed for air, then began to rock his hips. Slow at first, then steady and deep.

"Javi," you moaned in his ear, sending a shiver through his body. "Shit, just like that. Oh my god, Javi, just like that!"

Javier smirked into your shoulder, fucking you with deep, long strokes as you continued to fill the room with your cries and moans.

"Never thought you'd be so goddamn loud, baby," he teased, nipping playfully at your shoulder.

"Sorry," you whined into the air. Your jaw was clenched tight, fingers clawing uselessly at his broad shoulders while he continued to pump in and out a little bit harder, a little bit faster, setting loose one of the tears that welled up in your eyes.

"Don't be sorry, I fucking love it," he groaned. He lifted himself up so he could watch your face contort with each devastating thrust. "Fucking love how you say my name. Dreamed about it for so long, you have no idea-"

"Me, too," you moaned, a second tear trickling down your cheek. You wrapped your legs around his waist, holding onto him tightly as he began to fuck you faster. His eyes flickered down to your bare chest, breasts bouncing from the force of his thrusts. Craning his neck down, he latched onto one with a groan, teeth grazing enticingly over your nipple before sucking the other one into his mouth.

"God, you're so perfect," he mumbled into the space between your breasts. "So fucking perfect, hermosa. Drove me fucking crazy all night."

Your heart stuttered before grabbing the sides of his head and pulling him up for a deep kiss. Every time he slammed inside of you, it had you seeing stars. You felt completely at his mercy, unable to think about anything else except him, him, him.

"Tell me you want more," he demanded, pulling away from your kiss so he could look you in the eye. His eyes were blown wide with lust and a few dark hairs were beginning to stick to his forehead, the image so captivating that he had you nodding dumbly to his request.

"Yes, Javi, please," you moaned, "more, please, fuck me-"

"No, I mean-"

His hips slowed and he cupped your face, chest heaving and lips parted for air as he stared down at you imploringly. "I mean, tell me you want more than just tonight. Tell me there's something else here."

You blinked rapidly and nodded, stunned he would even have to ask when you had always been the one to prefer relationships. Hardly trusting yourself to speak, you whispered, "Yeah. I want more than just tonight. I want more than just this."

A smile stretched across his face right before he lunged down to capture your lips with his own. His hips resumed their pace, snapping steadily into you and pushing you higher and higher until you stiffened and cried out his name.

"Oh, fuck. Oh, shit," he muttered, hips stuttering against you, his name still tumbling from your mouth as the last of your orgasm rippled through your body. "Baby - look at me," he begged, and it wasn't until that moment you realized your eyelids had even shut.

Tiredly, you opened your eyes to gaze up at him. The way he was looking at you caused a lump to form in your throat and you had to suppress a shiver. It was too intense all of the sudden, the air thickening between you in a matter of seconds.

"Come for me, Javi," you murmured lowly. You brought a shaky hand up to card through his damp hair, watching as his eyebrows pinched and his chin dropped, pulling out of you quickly and sitting back on his heels to fist his cock. Your hand fell back to the cool sheets beside you, unable to look away. He was hunched above you, one fist pressed into the mattress and the other jerking himself off until he stilled with a deep groan, painting your stomach with his sticky release. You couldn't even let yourself blink, doing your best to commit every detail to memory until he collapsed next to you with a heavy sigh.

"Fucking Christ," he grumbled, forearm tossed over his eyes. You giggled, face warming when you heard how raspy you sounded. Javier removed his arm and turned his head to look at you with a lopsided grin.

"You're a screamer, hermosa."

"Javi!" you cried out softly, but your broken voice only further proved his argument. He chuckled and rolled onto his side to push some hair away from your eyes.

"I was expecting a phone call from the front desk ten minutes ago."

"Shut up, Javi!" you whined, covering your face with your palms.

"Don't be embarrassed, baby, I love it," he said while pulling your hands away. You bit your lip and peered up at him, searching his face for any sign of regret and finding none. Then his face softened and he swallowed nervously before adding, "I'm in love with you."

He said it so quietly, so sweetly, that it had you wondering if you were hearing things. But then you saw the anxious look in his eye and your pulse skyrocketed.

"Really?" you asked in disbelief. Slowly, he nodded.

"Yeah. I think I've been in love with you for a while," he admitted, tracing an invisible line down your cheek.

You laughed and two fresh tears fell when you said, "I love you, too."

His mouth crashed against yours in relief and you wrapped your arms around his neck, matching smiles pressing together in stunned happiness.

"I'm sorry I wasted so much time and didn't tell you sooner," he murmured while stroking your hair.

"It doesn't matter," you replied, "we have each other now."

Javi smiled and kissed the tip of your nose.

"So, now what?" he asked.

"Now? Now I would really like to take a shower," you said, then grinned when you added, "and maybe in the morning we can do this all over again."

He laughed and rolled to his side so you could get out of bed. When his eyes locked onto your ass as you made your way to the bathroom in the dark, he flung the covers off and leapt out of bed to follow you.

"I think we're gonna need a late check out."

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[mattscoquette]

perv!matt using your panties to get himself off

matt knew it was wrong. he knew it. but still, he couldn’t help himself from swiping your lacey panties off of nick’s floor when he went up there to grab a phone charger. he anxiously hurried back down to his room, almost as if you would suddenly teleport in front of him from the ice cream shop back to their house in a matter of moments.

back in the safety and privacy of his room, matt was quick to lock the door behind him. his cock strained against the zipper of his jeans, begging to be freed. he fiddled with his belt as he tugged his pants down, jeans pooling around his ankles as he slowly began to palm himself over his boxers.

matt tugged his bottom lip between his teeth, concealing his small whines and whimpers as he continued to tease himself. as his right hand worked, he looked down into his left, examining your underwear he’d stolen out of nick’s room. he admired the lace, and the little frills at the edges with a teeny tiny bow in the front. he felt himself getting harder and harder, finally pulling his aching cock out of his boxers.

his dick sprung up against his stomach, throbbing and dripping with pre cum. he shakily took your panties, slowly wrapping them around himself, moaning quietly at the sensation of the fabric as he began to stroke himself. he knew it was sick and perverted, but that didn’t stop him. if he couldn’t have you squeezing around him, your panties were the next best thing.

he slowly rubbed the panties along his cock, increasing the speed as he flicked his thumb over the tip teasingly. he let out soft grunts, scrunching his eyes closed as he thought about you being the one touching him. he wondered if you would think he was a total creep, or if you liked the idea of him getting himself off with your panties.

as he worked himself faster and faster, he felt himself begin to become lost in the sensation, his strokes turning sloppy and his breathing ragged. his cock throbbed in his hand as he tugged at it lazily, making sure to keep your panties wrapped perfectly around him. he bit his bottom lip, holding in his sounds as he grew closer and closer to his climax.

while he was touching himself, he hadn’t heard the front door unlock, when you and nick came home from getting ice cream. you walked over to his door, knocking lightly. “matt,” you spoke softly, “me an’ nick are back, we got you ice cream.”

matt held back a choked moan, rasping out an okay before letting out a small strand of curses while cumming hard all over your panties. he let out heavy pants, pulling the sticky fabric away from his now limp cock. he looked at your panties, now absolutelty wrecked with his cum. the sudden realization came over him, that not only did he cum from the sound of your voice, but he used your underwear to get himself off. he sighed softly, begrudgingly pulled his boxers and jeans back up, tucking your panties into his back pocket before walking out into the kitchen.

he headed to the table, keeping his gaze away from you as he swiftly snatched his ice cream, quickly returning to his bedroom. he was slick, but not enough. not enough to keep you from noticing your frilly and laced panties sticking out the back of matt's pockets. and in a weird, sick, and twisted way, you couldn't help but press your thighs together, feeling a heat in between your legs.

© mattscoquette | taglist

[eleganzadellarosa]

Melted

pairing: olderbrothersbestfriend!chan x needy fem! reader

genre: fluff, smut

warnings: MDNI (I'm sorry if this changes the way you see ice cream, pwp I guess, fast paced plot, unprotected sex (don’t 👀), big dick Chan (because what else would he be?), overstim, squirting, hair pulling, choking, creampie, Chan calls reader Baby, reader calls him Channie)

word count: 5.82K

A/N: Just because my mind has been on Chan A LOT lately. Also…this isn’t proofread 😬

Why would you like someone that ruffles your hair, tickles your sides and calls you “baby” as a nickname? Sounds childish right? Not to you when it comes to your huge crush on Chan. You know that’s just how he is with you and has been since you were younger, but you wish it meant something different to him.

Chan is best friends with your older brother, he’s basically been a part of your family for over 10 years. You’ve always liked Chan, but not in that way until your crush developed right before he moved. His family moved away for a while during his late teen years so you hadn’t seen him in quite some time. Then he suddenly came back and he was like a whole new person. His personality didn’t change, no, the way he looked did and you haven’t been able to keep your eyes off of him since.

He and your brother are 25 and you’re stuck being 23. It wasn’t a big enough gap to make anyone bat an eye, but you knew he always viewed you as his best friend’s little sister and you weren’t sure how to make that change. You watched as he pulled up in front of your house, picking up your brother like usual. They spent so much time together, you were almost past the point of jealousy and wanted to hate your brother for taking him away every time.

You stood in the open garage, watching him hop out the driver’s seat. He smiled and waved when he saw you and did a little jog onto the sidewalk and into the garage. Maybe things didn’t need to change and you needed to find someone else to crush on, but it was so hard when he would open his arms for you to hug him and would squeeze you tight until you couldn’t handle it anymore.

“Hey baby, missed you. How ya been?”

Baby. You would never get over that nickname. It gave you that warm fuzzy feeling but also gave you that second heartbeat.

“Hey Channie, you know same old same old. Where have you been all week?” You knew where he’d been but you’d do anything to have a longer conversation with him before your brother snatched him away.

“I went to go visit my family, they told me to tell you hi.” He smiled and you smiled back knowing how much his family loved you, which oddly enough made you like him more. “I got you somethin’, close your eyes.”

You obliged, closing your eyes waiting almost impatiently to see what he had for you. Not being able to see him in front of you but feeling his presence made a light blush fall on your cheeks. You felt his fingertips graze the skin on your hand and the sudden contact made you jump slightly. He carefully opened your hand and you felt the cold contrast of something against your palm.

“Open your eyes.”

You looked down to see a dainty anklet with small charms dangling from it. Your eyes lit up seeing each charm perfectly handpicked with things he knew you’d like. It was gorgeous and on closer inspection, it looked expensive. You didn’t care how much it cost, only worrying that he spent too much of his money on you, but loving that he got you a gift at all.

“Baby, do you like it?” He made dangerous eye contact waiting for you to reply. It didn’t help you gather your thoughts any quicker even though you had your answer already. He made your nervous system short circuit.

“Y-yeah Channie, I love it!” You smiled as much as you could to cover the way you swallowed thickly seeing him stand so close to you.

“Really? Oh gosh I’m glad, I thought I chose something you wouldn’t like.” He had to be lying. He could pick a leaf off a tree and you’d be jumping for joy. “Here lemme see, I’ll put it on for you.”

You gasped when he lifted you up to seat you on your dad’s workbench that sat at the back of the garage. The heat seeping in from outside was hot enough, but now you were sure you could break a thermometer. He kneeled down and wrapped the cold jewelry around your ankle. You were unconsciously holding your breath, scared of having any reaction because if you let go, you’d probably moan and you’d rather not make this awkward.

He looked up at you with your foot still in his hand, “It looks great baby, I like it.” God that comment had you slippery wet. He liked it on you? Now you’d never take it off. “Make sure you think of me every time you look at it.” He shot you a wink and your breath got caught in your throat preventing you from swallowing.

This conversation would be stored for fuel whenever you needed something to tip you over the edge at night. You almost said something equally seductive back, almost, when your brother came and took Chan away. You were used to it by now, never really having more than 10 minutes tops of alone time with him. It was frustrating, having to get most of your information from your brother who always reluctantly told you, asking “why do you wanna know anyways?”

You think Chan would tell you no hesitation if you actually had the chance to speak with him. But truth be told, you’d never be able to do such a thing with your brother around. He made it clear on multiple occasions that he didn’t approve of a relationship between you two if it ever came to be, but all three of you knew that would never be brought into existence.

You sat in the same spot on the tool bench, swinging your foot to see the charms sparkle in the small rays of sunshine. Chan said to think about him every time you looked at it, so you did. The thought of you on your knees in front of him, him slipping his thumb past your lips telling you to suck if you wanted to be rewarded. The ideas that ran freely were filthy and getting worse by the second. Your thighs rubbed together tightly as you felt yourself grow wetter with each passing thought.

The sun shined brightly through the small gaps between your blinds, easing you awake with its warmth. The weekends were the best because it was almost guaranteed that you’d get to have breakfast with Chan. It was an unspoken tradition and you marked it off in your mental calendar. You quickly washed your face before heading downstairs to the kitchen, only to see it completely empty besides the few duffle bags that sat beside the island.

“Where are you going?” You asked your brother who walked in at the perfect time before you could stump yourself with more unanswered questions.

“Didn’t mom tell you? I’m going to stay at a beach house with a few friends for the weekend.” He stuffed a few more things in his bag, talking with his back facing you.

“No…is Chan going too?” You asked carefully trying to make it seem like a normal question.

He rolled his eyes and leaned up against the marble island. “Next time you need to just start asking Chan these questions since you always wanna know everything about him. And no, he’s not coming.”

“Really?” A smile spread across your face but you quickly wiped it away when you saw your brother narrow his eyes.

“Don’t go bothering him while I’m away, he’s doesn’t wanna hang with you at all so just stay home!”

“You’re such an asshole, he never said that!”

“You don’t know what he said because you’re not his best friend! Just don’t bother him okay?” He sucked his teeth as he picked up his bags and walked out the door, kicking it closed with his foot.

He didn’t know what he was talking about. Chan wouldn’t say that, he would love to hang out with you. Right? You felt like a teenager crushing on a college boy that was far out of your league for multiple reasons but you swore you had a chance.

You sulkily walked upstairs back to your room and flopped on your bed. Being that your brother didn’t want you to bother Chan, it made you more curious as to what he could be doing right now. It sucks that you didn’t have his number or really any way to contact him. Well you did, you were just too scared to actually do it.

It was nothing but a 10 minute walk and 2 minute drive to get to his house but in the back of your mind, you were scared he actually wouldn’t want to see you. What would you say; what would be your reasoning for coming to see him?

“I have a crush on you and I want to be around you, please let me in?”

Like hell that would work. He’d probably slam the door in your face, call your brother and tell him how annoying and stupid his little-

There was a ring at your doorbell.

Your head snapped to your left, slightly shocked you had any visitors. It could easily be your neighbor since she always seemed to pop up randomly. “I got it!” You yelled out, jogging down the stairs. You looked out the peephole to see Chan standing there. Your heart started racing and you quickly looked over your appearance before opening the door.

“Channie?! What are you doing here?”

“Aww baby you aren’t happy to see me?” A cute little pout painted his face and you wanted to drag him in and kiss him all over.

“What? No, of course I am! My brother’s not here and I thought you knew…”

“Oh yeah I knew, I came to see you.”

He said it so nonchalantly as if it was normal to come see you. As if you both agreed to hang out today. Or as if you always hung out when your brother wasn’t around. He had to know what this was doing to you, there was no way he didn’t. You opened your mouth to say something but couldn’t find the strength to let the words come forward.

“I figured you’d be here all by yourself, so I thought I’d come pick you up.” He smiled brightly and there were those cute dimples. God you felt like you were gonna explode.

“I…umm…” you were stuttering and if he didn’t stop staring at you, you were going to be stuck like this.

He looked a bit sad and disappointed but waited to see what you would say. “It’s okay if you don’t want to Baby. I should’ve asked first, I’m so sorry.”

You quickly reached out to touch his arm and practically melted into a puddle, “No no Channie, I’m sorry, I just didn’t think you’d wanna hang out with me. I’d love to go to your house, especially since I’ve never seen this one.”

He smiled again, “Of course I would Baby, you’re my best friend! Now come on, hop in”

Oh how this was never something you thought would happen in a million years. You were Chan’s best friend? As much as you wanted this, there must have been some kind of mistake. Surely he didn’t actually think so.

He grabbed your hand and lead you to his jeep and opened your door for you. “Thank you Channie” barely left your lips before he reached inside and buckled your seatbelt, smiling at you before he closed your door. Your body was on fire; ignited from the soft and simple touches. You were down bad, there was no better way to put it. If he kept moving like this, you’d have to go home and deal with the problem between your legs.

His house was nice, nothing too big or small, just right for him. He had a great sense of decor and he kept his place sparkling clean. Scattered about on different pieces of furniture were photos of him, family and even younger pictures of the 3 of you.

“Baby, make yourself at home, you can sit anywhere you’d like.” He spoke to you from the little pass through window in the kitchen.

You nodded your head but decided to explore his living room some more. When you walked past the patio door, you noticed a reflection on the ground outside.

“Oh my gosh Channie, you have a pool?! Why didn’t my brother tell me?”

He walked over to you with a large red double popsicle and chuckled at the amused look on your face. “I’m gonna punch him when I see him, I told him to tell you because I know how much you love swimming. We can go out there if you want.”

He broke the popsicle in two and handed you a half. “I would love to…but I don’t have a bikini with me.”

“Just get in with what you have on.” He leaned against the side of his couch as he sucked on the cold treat.

You looked down at your outfit, a plain white tee and some daisy patterned shorts. “But I won’t have anything to change into. I can walk back home and get something.”

“Orrrrr, you can just wear some of my clothes until yours are dry.”

What was with him saying all this so nonchalantly? When have you ever worn his clothes? The smell must be absolutely amazing, he always smelled so good. If he was offering, you might as well just take it.

“Hmm” you bit your lip and smiled, “okay, but I don’t wanna get in by myself.”

He smiled as he finished off his half of the popsicle and chewed on the stick. He jolted off the side of the couch and pulled his shirt off. You almost choked on the leftover ice you had in your mouth. What the fuck was he thinking?

“Come on Baby, come swim with me.”

He opened the door and ran and jumped in without hesitation. After little to no consideration, you followed behind him, diving right in. The water was a perfect way to cool off in the hot summer sun. He swam over to you, hair drenched and sticking to his forehead. The droplets of water shined against his toned, muscular body. You wanted to lick him dry, no matter how long it took.

His right hand slid over your waist and around to your back, “you look so cute, I could kiss you right now.”

Cute? Kiss? Cute and kiss in the same sentence? Maybe you needed to pinch yourself to wake up from this completely unrealistic dream.

“M-me? I’m just plain and boring.” You mentally pat yourself on the back for not stuttering too much with how close he was and what he just said.

“You’ve never been either baby, no way that’s what you actually think.” His eyebrows raised in shock.

“Well yeah…there’s so many prettier girls than me. I’m just me, but they’re-“

It happened so fast that your mind didn’t process it. He bent down to press his lips to yours and hold you a bit tighter. Your arms were around his neck and you reciprocated the kiss faster than the fear set in. His tongue swiped over your lip and you happily allowed him to explore your mouth.

Somehow being drenched in the pool made it feel more sensual, nothing left to the imagination, bodies practically touching through the thin fabrics. You could feel how hard he was, pressing it right up against your thigh. You bravely touched him through his shorts, earning a small moan from him.

He ran a hand up the back of your thigh and roughly grabbed your ass. It wasn’t until you felt something press into your back that you realized he moved the both of you closer to the edge of the pool. He trailed the kisses over your jaw and to your neck. You were breathing heavily, making no effort to stop the sounds coming from you.

“I wonder how good you’d sound if I fucked you.”

“Channie please, oh fuck.”

Desperate was too innocent of a word to describe how badly you wanted him. You’d do whatever it took to make your dreams come true.

“Would you like that baby? Let me fuck you and make you feel good?”

At this point you were sure you stopped breathing. He looked so good with his wet hair, heavy lids, toned body pressed right against yours. Of course you’d like that.

“Yes Channie, I want it, I want you.”

He slipped your shirt over your head and left open mouthed kisses down your neck and across your chest. Just as he moved to get your nipple in his mouth, a loud ring came from inside the house; it was his phone.

“You should go get that Channie.”

He looked at you, lips parted and breathing heavily. “Fuck, okay I’ll be right back.”

He hopped out the pool and went inside while you tried to put all the pieces together. So Chan liked you? Or he simply just wanted a fuck buddy? Or maybe he just wanted to fuck you because he knows how much you like him and knew you’d be easy? The insecurity began to weigh down on you and now you just wanted to go home.

When he returned, he squatted down next to you, who was now slightly turned away from him with your arms wrapped around yourself in order to seek comfort.

“That was your brother, he said he’s coming home early because someone got food poisoning. So…he asked me to pick him up.” He reached out and touched your shoulder. “Baby, you okay?”

“Yeah Channie, you can just take me home.” You made sure to not let him see the tears brimming your eyes.

“You sure you’re-“

“Yes, I’d like to go home please.”

He watched you for a few seconds longer, definitely able to notice the shift in your mood, he just didn’t know what caused it. “Okay, let me at least get you a change of clothes.”

The ride back home was short and you got out before he could to open your door for you. He shouted something about seeing you later before driving off as you closed your front door behind you. You still didn’t have his number, so him hitting you up later wouldn’t be a thing, unless he was bold enough to ask your brother but you both knew that would open a can of worms you weren’t ready to try and close.

Now you were a bit nervous that he would tell your brother what happened because he wanted to know why you looked so sad. You’d just avoid him as much as you could and hopefully he would forget anything ever happened.

“As much as I don’t want you to, I need you to come with me and Chan so you can help me choose a gift for my girlfriend.” Your brother came into your room, not bothering to knock since your door was already opened slightly.

“I didn’t say you could come in!”

“Oh my god, yes or no?”

“You didn’t ask me anything dumbass and why don’t you already know what your girlfriend likes?”

“I do know but I want to know what’s the best out of the options I have and you’re a girl.”

“Umm…I guess?”

You were conflicted. You wanted to see Chan, you missed him even though it had only been two days since your encounter in the pool. But you also didn’t want to see him right now because you didn’t want to explain anything to him, yet if you said that your brother would for sure know something happened between you two.

“Okay well be ready in like 10 minutes, set a timer or something.”

Chan and your brother greeted each other like always and when he looked over at you, he looked as if he wanted to come hug you. “Hey baby, you coming with us today?”

Your brother rolled his eyes when you let a smile creep past your lips. You were weak for Chan, he knew exactly what to say to make you melt. Maybe you were thinking about it wrong, maybe he really did like you and he actually wanted to be with you. But having it happen so suddenly made you think perhaps you let your guard down too quickly.

You felt like such a third wheel around the two boys, laughing at their inside jokes and not worrying about you following behind them. Well Chan did, he would look back to make sure you were still there and smile at you when you made eye contact. It felt like hours even though but had only been 30 minutes of walking around the mall looking for the perfect gift.

“Girls like jewelry, so get her something she can always wear.” Your brother’s gaze followed yours down to your anklet. Before he could ask you where you got that, Chan spoke up.

“Yeah I told you that the other day man, if you really love her you should get her something that she can keep for a long time but also that you put effort into choosing.” He looked over at you when he said it, hoping you caught on to what he said.

You tried your hardest not to blush, your brother standing way too close for you to even let out a small squeal.

“Yeah that’s what I wanna get her but I’m not sure she’ll wear it, I never see her wearing jewelry.”

“Trust me bro, she’ll love it.” He placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder and nodded his head.

“I’m gonna go get some ice cream and then head back to the car you guys.” You said waving your hand as you walked away. Your brother nodded as he answered his phone.

“Is it okay if I come with you baby?” Chan ran to catch up with you before you got too far.

“Sure Channie, I’ll pay for you.”

“You’re so funny Baby, I’m paying for the both of us.” As you approached the stand, he turned around grimacing. “Aww baby they’re all out of rocky road.”

After all these years, he still remembers your favorite ice cream flavor. “It’s okay Channie, just get me whatever you get.”

He smiled softly and nodded and ordered two strawberry cheesecake cones. You walked back with him to his car to enjoy yet another frozen treat in his presence. Of course, he opened your door and let you hop in before he did the same.

“Damn it’s already melting…”

“I prefer ice cream when it melts a little. Like when it drips down my fingers. It just tastes better that way…well to me anyway.” You realized you were babbling, so you looked up at him but he was already looking at you.

“You wanna lick mine off my fingers?”

The question alone could have made you cum, but the way he looked at you; eyes slightly hooded, lips parted, that had you throbbing. You couldn’t even answer him. Actually your mind was blank so you didn’t have an answer or any response to what he just said. He saw it on your face though. You wanted him just as much as he wanted you. He’s wanted you for a long time and as many hints as he tried throwing your way, you never seemed to catch them.

It became too much for him, your brother always getting in his way of spending alone time with you. He didn’t care what your brother thought about it though. He wanted you and he wanted you bad. So when he eased his hand toward your mouth and you happily let him push a finger past your lips, he knew he didn’t have to try to make you understand anymore; he made that clear when you were in the pool the other day.

“Sorry it’s not your favorite flavor.” He said, removing his finger to replace it with a new one.

“It is now.” Your words were partially cut off by the intrusion of his fingers. You were soaked and your head felt fuzzy, you felt like you were going to die.

You never broke eye contact and he watched you intently. “You can’t look at me like that if you don’t want me to ruin you.”

“Maybe I want you to.” You licked and sucked on his fingers as seductively as you could muster.

He licked his ice cream then shifted more toward you so he could kiss you. The contrast of the cold dessert and the heat from his tongue made you whimper. He slowly let your warmth melt the ice cream and drip down onto your neck and chest. He happily chased the drops with his tongue making sure none of it went to waste.

“Oh god Channie, mmm~”

He caught sight of your brother making his way over to the car so he quickly halted his actions and returned to his seat. “He’s coming, act normal. Deep breaths.”

Well that was surely easier said than done. He just licked the majority of his ice cream off of you, leaving you slightly sticky in multiple places. This was torture, getting so close to what you want only to be cockblocked by your brother once again.

“Yo Chan, is it cool if I stay at your place tonight? My girlfriend might stop by too.”

“Yeah sure, I don’t mind.”

“Okay cool, we can just drop Y/N off.”

You quickly turned, an exaggerated pout on your face, ready to fight your case. “NO FAIR!”

“It’s fine if she stays, I don’t mind.” Chan looked at your brother through the rear view mirror.

“What?! No way, she’s literally just going to bother us the entire time!”

“Fuck you, no I won’t! You always get to hang with Chan by yourself, I can be around him too!”

“Hey! It’s alright, you can sleep in my bed and I can sleep on the couch. I promise it’s fine.”

Your brother rolled his eyes and you stuck your tongue out at him. Maybe you were childish, but you weren���t going to let your day end without at least having another make out session.

You thanked God your brother’s girlfriend came quite late and that she took all his attention off of you and Chan. You all enjoyed some snacks and had movie night. It was nearing almost 2am by the time the movie was over, so your brother took her to the guest room where he was staying for the night.

You stayed up with Chan to help him tidy up even though he insisted he didn’t want you to.

“Is it okay for me to wear another one of your shirts Channie? I didn’t pack anything.”

He looked up from the dishes he just finished, “you don’t have to ask Baby, of course you can.” He gave you a big dimpled smile but then it dropped. “Can I ask you somethin’?”

“Yeah of course, what’s up?”

“Why were you so sad the other day? You know…in the pool.”

You knew he would ask you eventually so you might as well just tell him now and get it over with. “I don’t know…I just…wasn’t sure how to feel and was hoping you weren’t only doing it to take advantage of me.”

He walked up to you and kissed your forehead. “Oh Baby, I would never do that to you. I love you and I can’t ever say it or do anything about it because your brother’s always around. I’m sorry if I came off so strong but don’t ever think I’d do anything to take advantage of you. I love you, yeah?”

He rubbed his thumb over your hand and tilted his head waiting for you to nod your head. It took a heavy weight off your shoulders to hear him express his true feelings and being that he said it so easily helped you understand how genuine he was being.

“My room is all yours Baby, it’s the last door at the end of the hall. You can wear whatever you want and there’s towels in the closet in the bathroom.”

“Thank you for letting me stay Channie.” You stood on your tip toes and kissed him on the cheek and quickly ran away, leaving him in the kitchen with red ears.

You felt refreshed after your shower and even more comfortable as you slipped into one of his shirts. Since you didn’t bring a change of clothes, his shirt was the only thing covering you and barely so. You hopped into his king sized bed and playfully rolled around, enjoying the big size.

You looked over at the digital clock on the nightstand, it had already been more than an hour since everyone went to bed. You weren’t sleepy though, so you pulled out your phone and scrolled aimlessly on your socials. A soft knock on the door turned your attention towards it.

“Come in.”

Chan walked through the door, smiling when he saw you so comfy in his bed. “I couldn’t sleep but I also didn’t try…and, I can’t let you leave before I kiss you again.”

“Well good because I was thinking the same thing.”

He fully shut the door and locked it before he removed his shirt and hopped in the bed with you, lips immediately catching yours. His hands came up to grope your breasts roughly, sucking and biting your bottom lip as he did so. He slid a hand under your shirt, breaking the kiss when he felt your bare skin.

“God Baby, you’re driving me crazy. Seeing you in nothing but my shirt is making me sooo hard.” You took his hand in yours and moved it over your pussy. “Fuck…so wet already.”

He moved down closer to the edge of the bed and kissed his way down from your stomach. He gave you butterflies in the best way possible. His lips danced across the skin on your inner thighs sending tingles up your spine.

“Channie…” you say breathlessly and he looks up at you as his mouth attaches to your sensitive bud.

With his head between your legs, messily eating your pussy, your eyes were squeezed shut. It took every bone in your body to not moan, knowing that if you did, you would be loud. He sensed it, so he stopped eating you out and crawled on top of you.

He used two fingers to slip into you while his thumb pressed down harshly on your clit. “Don’t hide them from me, I wanna hear them.”

“B-but my brother is here.”

“And I want to hear how good I make you feel. Don’t hold back Baby, lemme hear your pretty moans.” His fingers sped up their pace, not giving you any other option. You moaned as your back arched slightly. “That’s it Baby, good girl.”

It turned him on watching how his actions made you react but he needed more; needed to feel the way your pussy wrapped around him like it didn’t want to let him go. You reached out to pull on his shorts and finally free his achingly hard dick from its confines. He was BIG but what did you really expect, it was just really really intimidating. None of that mattered though, you just wanted him in you without any interruptions.

He hissed when he used your arousal to mix with his and coat his length. He gave it a few pumps before he eased the head past your entrance. “I’ll go slow okay baby?”

“Okay Channie just keep going, please don’t stop.”

He caught his lip between his teeth, feeling the lust course through his veins hearing you beg and feeling the tightness of your walls. He watched your face contort in pleasure.

He was barely half way in, stretching you open with ease. “T-too big Channie…” You eyes were rolling back and you were already slurring your words.

“You can take it, look you’re doing so well for me Baby” he touched his forehead to yours and grabbed you by the jaw and kissed you again, “you feel so good Baby, so so fucking good, such a good girl for me.”

When he bottomed out he leaned over you to catch his breath so he wouldn’t cum too quickly. Your head was spinning. His body pressed into yours and the way he spoke to you already had your toes curling. He pulled out to the tip, your pussy making a squelching noise, and he quickly thrust himself back in. Your back arched off the bed and you almost screamed.

As much as you wanted to keep your sounds at bay, you weren’t sure how much longer you could keep the volume down to a minimum. He snapped his hips forward with desperation, grunts and moans falling from the both of you. His hand wrapped around your neck, squeezing enough to make your head get fuzzy and awaken every nerve in your body. He pounded into you with no remorse, making this worth the long wait.

He suddenly pulled out, causing you to whine in response, and sat against the headboard. “Come ride me, wanna feel you in this position.”

You crawled over to him then hovered over his still hard, leaking dick. You sank down on him, taking small breaks so you wouldn’t faint from the pleasure. He bucked his hips up, making you drop down fully. He held you under your butt, spreading your pussy open to help you bounce on his dick easily.

The more you hopped up and down on him, the more you felt the sticky substances mix and connect the two of you. Your legs gave out when he started to thrust up into you every time you dropped down. He repositioned you so that you were on your knees, leaning forward into him. He grabbed a handful of your hair, your back arching more, as he hugged you and fucked you violently. The new angle made him abuse your sweet spot.

“Letting me fuck you with your brother just down the hall, I didn’t know you were such a slut Baby.”

“Mmm ah! Only for you Channie!”

He held you tighter when he felt your pussy clench around him. This is exactly what he wanted, what he dreamed of. He knew he wouldn’t last much longer himself, so he quickly flipped you onto your back again. One hand on the back of one of your knees and the other rubbing harsh circles on your clit.

“Oh fuck…oh fuck Channie I’m gonna cum!”

“You gonna cum? Yeah? Cum with me, make a mess all over my dick.”

He thrust deeper into you and bent down to suck on one of your nipples. A few more loud moans and circles on your clit and your pussy fluttered as you reached your orgasm. He didn’t stop and kept up his quick pace until you squirted all over him and the sheets below.

“Fuuuuuck” his hips stuttered and he pushed himself deep as he painted your walls white. He pulled out quickly, the rest of his cum spilling into his hands and seeping through his fingers.

When you looked down, you couldn’t help but grab his hands to put his fingers in your mouth. Funny enough, the cum looks just like the way you love your ice cream.

“Channie, I think you’re my favorite flavor.”

[siriuslylantsov]

afterglow

pairing: joel miller x reader

description: in which, you spend an evening with joel on valentines day.

tags: MDNI! smut and fluff, established relationship, jackson!joel, fem!reader, sickeningly cute, so so much kissing, soft!joel (but hes also kinda dirty, i can't help myself), age gap (it was thought about when writing but it's not explicitly stated so imagine whatever), oral (f receiving, munch joel!! everyone cheered), fingering, unprotected piv (he pulls out), soft!dom joel kinda, aftercare, r and j's relationship is new but its implied that she already has a close relationship with ellie.

a/n: happy valentines day cuties!!! my gift to you. this started off super cute and soft and then two thirds of it became smut, idk where that came from. anywho, happy reading!!

wc: 3k

“hi darlin’,” joel says as you open the door. 

the early evening sun casts a soft orange glow over the side of face, complementing his complexion perfectly. a shy, crooked smile tugs at his lips, the dimple on his right cheek deepening. one arm is folded behind him, holding something from your view and the other is planted against the frame of your door.

“hi baby,” you reply, giggling as you step forward to kiss him.

he accepts your lips eagerly, using the hidden arm to curl around your waist. you hear the faint crinkle of paper against your back. you hum sweetly into the kiss, pulling away to see what he’s got for you. a small bouquet appears between your bodies–a humble bunch of white and purple flowers that could handle growing in the cold weather, along with some that you suspect the gardeners had a role in providing. 

“maria went on patrol with me today and helped me pick some o’ these out,” he explains, watching you toy with a lilac petal of a flower he can't be damned to remember the name of. “d’ya like em?”

your fingers rake softly through his beard, coaxing his gaze upward until his eyes meet yours. tears gather at your waterline, and joel should probably be alarmed—but he’s grown used to it, having been there for so many of your firsts. apparently, getting flowers was one of them too.

“i’ve never got flowers before,” you admit in a hushed whisper, sickening adoration pooling into your body, making you feel warm all over despite the cold air that sneaks its way into your house.

joel takes note of the wind picking up and guides you inside, a solid hand at the small of your back. he takes your dazed figure all the way to the kitchen, grinning amusedly at how you continue to admire the bouquet. he looks through your cabinets for something tall enough, settling when he finds a mason jar that would be perfect. 

“i really like these, joel.” you smile up at him when he's in front of you again. he's holding his hand out expectantly and the jar filled with water in the opposite one. you give him the flowers with a reluctant pout, following him to the counter where he begins to set them up.

“‘m glad,” he expresses warmly, untying the ribbon that held the stems together. “damn shame i couldn't get you roses, the garden ran out pretty quick.”

you can’t help the fond smile that spreads across your face as you watch him try to organise the flowers nicely, carefully moving them around so he doesn't accidentally pull off a petal. when he's happy with his arrangement he turns back to you, neatly folding up the brown paper that wrapped the bouquet and placing it in your palm. “ellie made me promise to tell you that she helped with that so keep it in mind, i guess,” he says, nodding to the doodles of leaves that were peppered along the edges.

“noted,” you laugh, picturing her fiery, insisting nature with ease. you gotta fuckin’, i don’t know, make it pretty for her, joel. just ugh- give it to me. 

suddenly, you remember the muffins that were kept warm in the oven. you scurry over there wordlessly, causing joel to twitch confusedly. you take the tray out with quick fingers, holding a muffin out for joel. 

“it's a new recipe, cinnamon and pear,” you explain excitedly as he walks over to you. when he looks down at it, he sees you’ve managed to orchestrate two small slices of fruit to sit in a heart shape and it's awfully cute.

your eyes are trained intently on him as he takes a bite. it's instantly the best thing he's ever tasted but he chews thoughtfully for a few more seconds so it doesn't look like he's making his mind up on a whim. admittedly, he is but it's also just that good. the texture of the warm cooked pear complimenting the firm but soft spiced crumb of the muffin. he hums in approval when he swallows, shaking his head in disbelief. 

“sweetheart, this is really fuckin’ good,” he murmurs, his voice rough in appreciation as he dusts off muffin remnants that have stuck to his bottom lip. 

you beam, extremely pleased. you wait as he finishes eating. not that long, apparently, as two big bites later, it’s gone. he reaches up with his free hand and tucks a strand of loose hair behind your ear, twirling it before letting it fall.

“so about today,” he starts and you hum attentively. “thought we’d take a walk around that part of town that you like and then go feed the horses. maybe go back to mine if there's time.”

-

the walk is perfect. you swing your joined hands between your bodies, smiling to yourself while joel complains about his brother. the air is solemn, the overwhelming scent and sound of love seeping out of every house you walk by. you never thought life could be this good again or that you’d feel this good again. you owe it all to the mumblin’ grumblin’ man beside you, the one softly caressing your thumb with his own, bringing it up to his mouth so he can kiss the back of your hand. 

when you reach the stables, joel pulls out the carrots he had tucked away in his large jacket pocket. (you’d made a detour at the greenhouse before coming here.) you divide the carrots into equal pieces for the animals, setting aside an extra chunk for a horse you remember ellie being particularly fond of–shimmer, if you recall correctly. 

joel takes in the sight, endearing eyes unable to part from you. your hand reaching out calmly, vegetable centred in your palm, you bring it to the horse's mouths, giggling when their tongues peek out and tickle you. he crowds in behind you, his arms wrapping around your middle. you squirm a little when he tilts to press a kiss to your neck, claiming his lips are cold. 

“well, let me warm ‘em up, sweetheart.”

-

you make it to joel's front door well after sundown, stars shining like diamonds spilled across the night sky. you make a mental note to go stargazing with him and ellie, if she wants, when the weather gets warmer. for now, you just want to be inside. 

“she’s with her friend dina tonight,” joel answers your unasked, looming question. you bite back the smile that the words ‘friend’ and ‘dina’ prompt, knowing a lot more than joel about his kids’ relationship status. she's just waiting for the right time.

you turn around to him, a mischievous glint in your eyes. “so what you’re saying,” you muse lightly. “is that we have the place to ourselves.”

“mhm,” he smirks.

you twist the door open, often left unlocked, and let yourself through. “well then. come on in, mr. miller.”

he trails behind you up the steps, fingers lacing with yours. you walk into his room with a quiet sigh, taking off your shoes and watching as he follows suit. you love his room, a cultivation of who he is within four walls. you switch on the lamp on his bedside table, refraining from turning the main light so a faint glow encompasses the room, just enough to see the softness in his beautiful brown eyes.

“kiss me?”

he clicks his teeth before lowering his lips to yours, “don’t have to ask.”

his moustache tickles your upper lip and the coarse hair of his beard grazes your chin lightly, but it's not irritating. you welcome the sensation, it being a feature of his that you adore so dearly. proving this, your nails scratch the patch of grey at his jaw. 

his tongue slips out, tracing the seam of your lips. a low sound escapes you when you grant him entrance, licking into your mouth languidly. there's no rush, there never is. it's a luxury that three months ago you would’ve laughed at, disbelief evident.

his hands find your waist, pulling your hips flush together. he slips off your jacket and greedily tugs at the hem of your shirt. you appease by lifting your arms. he reaches behind you when he gets your shirt off, deftly unclasping your bra. he does this all while kissing you, but when he finally gets your top half bare, he pulls away. to look.

“beautiful,” he exhales a quick, amazed breath that whooshes past his lips. he admires you unabashedly, trailing his hands up your sides and down your front. he nudges you gently, guiding you onto the bed, his frame looming over yours as you sit down. 

you look up at him with dopey, half-lidded eyes, sneaking eager hands under his flannel and undershirt. your fingers trace over his skin, pressing into the soft warmth of his stomach, his body heat sinking into your palms. “back at ya, cowboy."

he takes this as a sign to peel off his layers, pulling them off with ease and adding them to the pile of discarded clothes. you spend a moment gaping at his torso before he lowers himself on top of you, dragging his lips up your neck as he does so. you whine when he begins sucking at your pulse point, teeth scraping your skin every so often. his kisses go lower and lower as he toys with the button of your jeans. 

he kisses at your belly, lips catching on the exposed skin of your hips, then upper thighs as he slowly pulls your jeans and underwear down, purposefully avoiding where you need him most. he strips off his pants and boxers and nudges for you to scoot up the bed. you sink into the pile of pillows, joel not far behind as he sits bracketed by your thighs. he runs his hands up and down them, calloused fingertips caressing your skin, squeezing in intervals and leaning down to kiss them, kiss your knees and your calves.

“joel, please,” you whisper, growing a little antsy, his hands all over your body aren't helping. 

“impatient,” he tuts, but there's no real reprimand in his voice. “jus’ let me take my time with you.”

“will you at least come up here and kiss me while you're at it?” 

he smiles, “what’d i tell ya?”

“don't have to-” your poor impression of his southern drawl gets cut off by his lips on yours. you sigh dreamily into the kiss; you'll never get used to that feeling. his hand cradles your jaw, tilting it to deepen this kiss. you pull his bottom lip between your teeth, sucking it into your mouth. 

a needy sound rumbles in the back of his throat, and with a reluctant pull, he breaks away, shifting back to the space between your legs. he's lying on his stomach, cheek pressed against your inner thigh as he waits for your approval. when you nod, he dives in, no time to waste.

he licks a fat stripe between your folds, causing you to cry out. he hooks an arm over your hips to cease your writhing. you could say joel miller eats you out like a man starved, but right now, it's more like a savoured meal, slow and leisurely in its pace. he takes his time, measured strokes of tongue that are assuredly making you feel all the right kinds of ways. you thread your fingers through his hair, so soft, tugging lightly and he hums. 

you dare to spare a glance down. it's deadly–him with his mouth attached to you like a vice and eyes staring up at you, decidedly looking like he belongs there. you want to look away but the sight is so enticing. 

“baby, more,” you ask breathlessly. “please.”

“yeah?” he sounds equally out of breath, tracing a middle and ring finger around your entrance. “this what you want?”

you nod pathetically with a meek “yes.”

he pushes in slowly, met with no resistance. he finds that spot fast, pressing his curled fingers up. his fingers are longer and thicker than yours, reaching places you’d never been able to. he persistently rubs up, pulling out a little only to go back fast, just the way you like. all the while, he does this thing with his tongue–god, that tongue–where he flicks it from side to side over your clit, flattening it when needed, and it is earth-shattering. 

that well-known feeling starts to build and you repeatedly tug at joel's hair, mewling softly, trying to signal him. he’d already figured you were close, but still, he nods. he lifts his head to see you, his thumb replacing his tongue. 

“c’mon, sweetheart. give it to me,” he urges you on, kissing your hip bone with slick wet lips and his fingers working fervently like it's the most important thing in the world. joel would argue that right now, it is. “know you want to.”

“joel, yes, oh fuck-” you keen, shuddering violently as you finish. he keeps going, working you through it, lapping up the mess when his fingers slip out. he can't get enough of you. you weakly push at his head, “baby, enough. s’too much.”

suddenly, he's on top of you again, rubbing a clean hand over your hair. “okay, okay,” he coos, his voice low and lulling. he presses gentle pecks to your neck, making his way back up to your lips. you kiss him again, more sluggish than previously, whimpering when you taste yourself on him. fuck, you need him. 

you carefully drift a hand between your bodies, curling your fingers around his length. he hisses, inhaling a sharp breath. “shit, are you sure-”

you press him against you, guiding his tip to your slit. “fuck me, joel,” you whisper, using your other hand to hold his face.

that's all he needs to hear before he starts sinking into you, simultaneously groaning as he does. he curses low, though it sounds and looks more like a whine when you see the way his face has twisted up in pleasure when his hips are flush with yours. you feel addictively full, so you hug your arms around his shoulders to prolong the moment. he buries his head in your neck, breathing shallowly as you flutter around him.

“gotta move angel, i gotta-” he gets cut off when you squeeze, nodding against his shoulder. 

he thrusts greedily, pulling out almost fully until he somehow goes in deeper. it’s not fast but it’s not slow either, just enough that it leaves you reeling when he draws his hips back. the stretch of him is something you feel you won't get used to, it only just borders on pain that makes it feel deliriously good. all you can offer him are broken gasps as you find purchase on his back with your nails, digging into the flesh. 

“fuck you feel good, so so good,” he croons, his voice is soft, breathy, as he presses a lingering kiss to your neck, the words barely a whisper between your bodies. “can't believe you’re mine, this perfect fuckin’ body, perfect fuckin' girl.”

maybe it's the wrecked rasp to his voice or the way the base of his dick rubs against you just right but the high builds fast, record time even. you squeeze around him frantically, mouthing sloppily at his shoulder. 

“yeah?” he pants, lifting his head so he can look at you again, you’ve got the sense that he likes to watch. you like him watching you. “gonna give me another one? gonna cum for me?”

“mhm,” you hum, teetering on a sob as he starts fucking you harder, a determined look in his eyes. your face falls sideways into the arm that joel had pressed beside your head “oh god, ohgod-”

“there you go. good girl,” he gushes warmly as you finish. he speeds up urgently, letting your climax be the catalyst of his own, chasing something just out of reach. you pull his face to yours with desperate hands, clinging to him, needing to kiss him. his lips brush over yours messily, not quite kissing you and it drives you crazy. he cums with one more strong thrust, groaning loudly into your open mouth as he pulls out and spills over your stomach.

he slumps on you, heavy, as he comes to, smearing stickiness all over but you find that you don’t care much. you cradle the back of his head with gentle hands, murmuring sweet things. you can feel his soft exhales on your collarbone, sighing as you weave your fingers between his strands. his heart races against your own, almost in sync. 

the two of you stay like that for a moment longer as everything slows down. nothing else matters apart from the silvery glow of moonlight filtering through his sheer curtains, spilling in revered ribbons across the floor, or the soft, grounding weight of his body on top of yours. his fingers trace the skin within reach, absentminded circles over your hip bones, lines beneath the curve of your breast. 

eventually, he rolls off you, getting the sense that some of your limbs might be going numb. in the midst of your post-orgasmic haze, you don’t realise that he leaves, returning with a damp towel to clean you up. he wipes you up swiftly, murmuring a hushed sorry when you squirm away and joins you under the covers.

he pulls you into his side, letting you tuck yourself under his arm. he presses a kiss to your temple. everything is so serene you want to cry. your body has other plans for you when the dregs of sleep start to claw at your worn-down edges. joel feels the slow flutter of your eyelashes on his chest and he begins to rub a gentle hand over your back, attempting to coax you further. sleep offers its solace, and joel’s steady presence pulls you under, silently promising to keep you warm. 

before you drift off though, you hear him–unbearably soft, whispering against your forehead.

“happy valentine's day, angel girl.”

reblogs and replies are appreciated :) | m.list

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

coming home

synopsis : you sleep over at katsuki’s place after a night out with your friends. it’s more convenient that way.

an. wrote something rq after seeing the epilogue chapter and pheeewieeeee,,my boyfriend..sigh my boyfriend oh my boyfriend ouggh

cw. nothin really, just a lil casual domesticity w katsu :3, katsuki is fine ASL, reader n katsuki shower together so nakedness they nakey, lmk if there's anything else !!

you’ve noticed katsuki looks very good when he’s the designated driver.

he looks so natural behind the wheel, arms slightly flexed and gripping the steering wheel. his face serene but slightly tensed in concentration, occasionally scoffing to himself whenever someone in front of him drives too slow or cuts him off.

the lamp posts outside reflect nicely on his jaw, his nose and sharp eyes. his whole face really, you can’t stop sneaking glances at him.

he takes the opportunity to place his hand on your thigh once you get to a stop light, giving it a light squeeze. it feels heavy, relaxed, like your thigh just conveniently happens to be there for him to use as an armrest.

another squeeze and katsuki speaks, eyes never leaving the road, the stop light shines the same color as them.

“what’re ya peekin’ at me for, huh ?”

you’ve clearly not been sneaky enough, but you hum anyway. “whaddya mean ?” you ask innocently, your boyfriend scoffs.

a pinch to your thigh and he laughs when you whine. “know you’re not dumb, so quiet actin’ like you are. you got somethin’ on your mind, say it.”

you pout at him, he catches it when he glances at you briefly and smirks, katsuki pats your thigh.

“i was jus’ lookin at you, you look nice.”

he hums at that, smirk growing wider, he nods lightly “nice, huh ?”

“mhm,” you nod “really nice..” you clarify, making a point to look him up and down. he snorts, but his grip on your thigh does a bad job at making him look unbothered.

“know you’re obsessed with me, but you could at least try to act like you’re not.” he teases, hands going back to the steering wheel when the lights on his face shine green. the slight furrow in his brows immediately returns when the car in front of him doesn’t immediately pick up the pace. his fingers drum against the wheel impatiently.

“you got somewhere you need to be or something ?” you giggle.

“yeah, home. in bed.” he quips, always as easily irritable when he was sleepy and not to mention just a bit tipsy. kaminari had managed to get him to drink a little bit more than he usually would but the electric blond got too drunk to notice you’re boyfriend babysitting his drink the entire night. he always insisted on being the driver when it came to his precious baby.

you know he’s never liked to drink much, but you also think katsuki doesn’t so as to not demolish his so called 'reputation'. you and a handful of friends know how needy and emotional he gets when he gets drunk. he acts like everyone is after him when he’s reminded of the fact.

when things had started to die down and everyone slowly but surely started heading home, katsuki leant in near you to ask if you were ready to head out. he was the one that insisted on picking you up from your place since you were on the way to the restaurant, it was more convenient that way he'd said.

but suddenly, he’d suggested you just sleep over at his house for the night. his was closer if he took a shortcut, and it was already getting late. besides, you had left plenty of your stuff at his house. it was just “less of a pain” that way, he’d claimed, and you agreed.

katsuki places his arms behinds your chair to carefully back up into a parking spot. a lucky find, since it was so late at night. but that was hardly something you could focus on when he leant in so close, jaw tight in concentration. he smells just a bit like alcohol mixed with his usual scent.

you’d been together for years now, and yet this still makes your heart hammer, you’d blame it on the slight buzz of alcohol in your system if it wasn’t for the fact that this has always been how you’d reacted before—from the day he’d gotten his license and took you for a test drive to show off.

as the car slows to stop and the engine dies down with a low growl, katsuki turns on the lights and sighs, plopping down onto his seat with a groan, you have to laugh at how he acts like he’d just driven through a desert. he runs a hand through his hair and you notice katsuki looks extremely good when he’s the designated driver.

conveniently, you still have some sleepwear laying around at his house, neatly folded would be a better way to say it, katsuki was always a clean freak, not that it mattered much though since you knew you could just grab one of his shirts and call it a day and he wouldn’t mind at all. you think it shouldn't feel so natural to fish out a pair of your clothes from the drawer, like you'd been living here your entire life.

conveniently, katsuki has a spare toothbrush. he denies that he’d gotten it for you and tries to convince you that his specific toothbrush was sold in a pack of two and he was planning on keeping it for himself.

right, of course.

katsuki’s apartment has always had a cozy feel to you. probably because it was his and not just any old apartment. he just had this warmth to him that made it a home, one you could see yourself sharing with him. it’d be simple, natural. like breathing just to be with him.

you don’t particularly enjoy smelling like alcohol and outside, so you’re happy to sneak off to get to the bathroom first while your boyfriend gets himself a glass of water. until he catches you, of course. he almost chokes with how fast he zooms towards you, quickly wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“the fuck you think yer doin’ ?”

“katsuki, m’stinky and gross.”

“m’not gonna let you hog the bathroom in my house, get your own.” he stalks closer to you. he’s grown a lot since high school—in height, muscle, confidence and the list could go on, you stand your ground.

“you’re the one who brought me here, mister.” you shove an accusatory finger into his firm chest. he doesn’t budge, but he scowls down at your finger like you’d shot him and digs his finger into your side before you can stop him. you’re ready to cuss him out and fight if you have to, but to your surprise he sighs. looking off to the side.

“fine, we’ll just both go then.” he huffs, ears slightly tinted pink in the light of his living room.

oh.

“w—oh.” you breathe, immediately his eyes zip to you. his eyebrows furrow harder and his lip pulls up to hide the embarrassment growing on his face. “what ? s’that a problem or something ?”

“no, no !” you try to tone down the surprise in your voice, leaning against the wall to try and act casual. “i mean, no it’s not but—like, are you sure ?” and you feel like you’re sixteen again asking him if it was okay to kiss him.

“it’s more convenient that way. uses up less hot water so, it works out for me.”

“ah, right. bills.” you try to jest, managing to only huff awkwardly. your eyes flit to him and the floor and he scoffs after a minute. slowly, gently, he grabs your wrist. slowly, gently going towards your hand and intertwining his fingers with yours.

“stop being dumb and weird.” he scolds, before pulling you inside the bathroom with him.

you realise, really realise, with your back against his chest, how warm your boyfriend is.

he's always run hot and it came in especially handy during the harsher winter months. but now it's not cold, it can't possibly be when it feels like he's damn near running a fever behind you.

hot water be damned, he'd be able to heat up an ice cold bath all by himself you think. perhaps he'd always been this scorching, but it's the extra proximity that's making you realise it.

despite scolding you earlier for making it weird, katsuki is incredibly stiff. he'd been stiff when he swiftly turned around the moment he decide the water was an alright temperature, mumbling something about telling him when you got in. he'd kept his eyes aimed diligently at the ceiling of his bathroom and almost slipped when he tried to reach for the corner of his bathtub. you tried to spare him the embarrassment of giggling at his mumbled, butt naked cursing.

he'd scooched in behind you and it took him about a minute to let himself relax enough to let your skin touch. despite it being more convenient for him like he'd claimed, his hands stayed glued to the edge of the bathtub. the grip he has seems a little much, you can see his knuckles almost turning white, but his arms strain and bulge that way and you won't say that's not nice to look at.

you decide to make the move. you sigh, feigning relaxation despite your heart pounding, only intensifying when katsuki holds his breath for a second behind you. you make yourself more comfortable, leaning against him more and woah, he's scalding. you almost want to pull back, but you feel yourself leaning a bit further as you realise he's moved back too. his back now touching the edge of the tub. he hisses when the undoubtebly cold edge hits his skin.

slowly, slowly, the grip on the tub relaxes, and he lets himself dip around. fingertips slowly floating around in the water until they came to run up your arms. your shoulders, and he sighs then, really sighs like he's comfortable. and then all is good in the world again.

he's somewhat used to it now, and it's normal, almost second nature how he leans his head forward to land in the crook of your shoulder. he nuzzles into it more when you lean to the side to give him more space. he shoves his head in deeper, nudging his head to yours harder because he knows the tips of his hair tickle. and of course, ever the nuiscance, does it again and again until it has you giggling softly in the quiet of his bathroom.

and you think you could honestly get used to it.

"'ve been thinkin'.." you hear him mumble against your skin. you let out a hum when he doesn't continue. "'bout what ?" you ask sleepily.

"..bout you moving in, with me." he pauses, you pause. and it's quiet. again.

"o-oh yeah ? where did that come from ?" you try to keep your voice as steady as possible. your heart races and you feel it so hard you think it ripples in the water. you feel katsuki lift his head up lightly in confusion, but his eyes still won't move towards you.

"ya had something else planned 'r somethin' ?"

"no, no ! i'd wanna, i'm super down !" you're a bit louder than you mean to be, voice a bit breathier and higher in pitch and it echoes against the walls of the bathroom. katsuki's fingers twitch where they rest on the edge of the bathtub again and he sighs.

"i just didn't expect you to um-pop the question.." you trail off, you immediately mentally smack yourself for the wordage you used, because now you can't stop thinking about marrying him. you wished you could sink further into the water but now you're a little too aware of the hot skin pressed behind you.

katsuki doesn't look at you, he leans back until he's staring at the ceiling. you can tell he's trying to make himself more comfortable with the way he stiffens in an effort not to move like he usually would when he'd pretend to be unbothered. it tells you that maybe, just maybe, he was thinking about the same thing as you.

he sighs, and he finally looks at you then. voice poised and calm, but his eyebrows furrow and there's a slight pink on his cheeks.

"just..more convenient that way. you're already here all the time anyway." his rough voice cracks just slightly, the hints of doubt peeking through him. after letting out a breath you didn't know you were holding, you hum again.

"y-yeah--yeah.." you manage. katsuki clicks his tongue behind you.

"look, if you don't wanna-" your boyfriend gulps back his next words when you lean back against him once more. stiffening, before finally calming down again.

"i do, i wanna move in with you. truly." you lean your head back enough to comfortably look at him so he can see how serious you are. it seems to stun him a bit, eyes widened. his lips tremble like he wants to speak but can't. and since he can't, he composes himself (tries to at least) and nods, mostly to himself rather than you.

"good..good.." he mutters. you nod as well, turning back and closing your eyes to try and calm your beating heart, to fully relax.

"mhm, good."

and it's quiet again. only the sound of soft breaths and beating hearts remain. you can almost feel his heartbeat pressed against your back.

"how long have you been thinking about it--me moving in and all ?"

he hums from behind you, now that he's calmed down, his shoulders relax and he gets just a bit bolder, rubbing a thumb against the skin of your upper arm.

"does it matter ?"

"yes."

he grumbles, obviously embarrassed. " a while." is what he settles with "figured it was about time."

about time, huh ? you nod, the room overtaken by silence yet again. a comfortable, warm one you could get used to.

"'sides, i know how much you miss me when you leave."

you scoff, rolling your eyes. he's ruined the moment like his big mouth usually does.

"oh please, you're the one that keeps calling me back the moment i do leave." you shoot back, it's katsuki's turn to scoff now.

" yeah, sure. just admit you're obsessed with me, babe." he sasses.

"oh, babe you forgot your sweater at my place so come back and get it. what? no, i can't bring it back you forgot it so you come get iiit !" you put on a nasally deep voice, waving your arms around in the water dramatically.

"s-shut up, moron !" katsuki stutters, his abrupt movements of disbelief causing the water to ripple and spill over from the tub. "i don't sound like that--"

"oh babe, now that you're here i actually just remembered you forgot to gimme my 5th goodbye kiss on the way out--"

"yn.." he warns lowly.

"oh yn, if i could, i'd spent my entire life makin' out with you cus i wuv you sooo much, bleh bleh muah muah-- !" your crude little kissy noises are interrupted by your boyfriend furiously flicking water into your face. you squeal loudly, shrieking trying to block the jet stream with your arms. you laugh loudly as he continues attacking you from all sides and you're sure by now half of the water he's used was most definitely on the floor, but you really couldn't care less.

and frankly, you could get used to this.

taglist.

@napbatata @andysdrafts @queenpiranhadon @jastoo46 @cecelia77

@katszumi @m-inluv @monchurie @the-hangry-otter @starlostlaiba

@moonshuul @erenstitanweave @katsus-mistress @dondeh-zedonutqueen @liluvtojineteyam

@aspiringwriter1111 @sugurusmoon @redvelvetstan1

@niktwazny303 @nemisimp @kit-katsukii @alphasage @milktea-academia

[moonchildstyles]

pomegranate

pomegrante part one: harry and y/n are roommates and she doesn't want him to feel lonely

wordcount: 14.2k+

—————

Harry's brows knitted together as he lifted his eyes from the avocado he was slicing, eyes flitting to the television from where he stood at his kitchen island. Truthfully, he didn't know why he kept watching this show when he never agreed with any of the contestants' decisions. More often than not, he came away frustrated when he watched these singles fumble budding relationships in favor of the near-mythical 'something better' they were convinced was out there. He couldn't understand why they prioritized sex with someone they didn't even know existed yet over someone right in front of them, that was more than enough. 

Shaking his head when he saw another shirtless, spray-tanned man with a head of permed curls on the top of his head pull a beautiful girl to the side for a "chat",  Harry directed his attention back to the strokes of the knife under his hand. His sushi bake would be out of the oven soon and he needed to get all of his fix-ins in order before the timer ran out. 

Just as he stowed away his slices of avocado and started on the edamame pods he planned on salting and marinating, the humming of the garage door rolling up rumbled through the house. A slight smile touched at his cheeks, already anticipating the clicking of heels he would no doubt hear before the door leading from the garage to the kitchen would be swung open with a huff. 

(Y/N) had been on a date tonight, and there was no way it had gone well if she was already home. Only an hour away didn't make for a particularly fun night. 

As expected, only moments after the garage had been closed and he heard the slam of her car door, (Y/N) trudged in from the extension with a tired expression on her face. 

"Hey, H," she sighed, already bending over to take her shoes off despite barely making it onto the tile of the kitchen floor.

"Hi, (Y/N)," he greeted, turning around with his avocado slices left behind, "Bad night?" 

He didn't have to see her face to know she was rolling her eyes. 

"The worst." She stood up to her full height—sans high heels, of course—with a flick of her hair. "I should've just stayed home with you. I wouldn't have been bored to near tears with you." 

For a second, Harry felt his heart sitting in his throat. Did she have any idea what it did to him when she talked like that—joked like that? Years into this friendship with no shortage of her sweetened comments, he doubted she did. He just hoped that she didn't notice his cheeks reddening and the way his hands suddenly didn't know what to do. 

"'M sorry," he murmured, "Was he nice at least?" 

(Y/N) shrugged, the silk straps of her top shifting over her smooth shoulders. "Nice enough—he just likes talking about himself, I think." 

Harry's lips thinned at her comment. He couldn't imagine being anything but the best listener for (Y/N); who wouldn't want to hear everything that was going on in her head and the piles of stories, however mundane, she could share? 

"Well, unless you're too tired, we could watch our show? Dinner will be ready soon if y'were still hungry." 

It was the way she seemingly inflated, light in her eyes with her hands brought to her chest all to match the bubbly smile on her lips, that had his heart springing in his chest. 

"You'd share your dinner with me?" 

You can have everything of mine, as long as you keep looking at me like that.

A mild smile curled his lips in hopes of concealing everything bubbling underneath his skin. "Of course. 'S a salmon sushi bake, if that sounds any good to you." 

"That sounds so good, H. You're the best, thank you." 

Her smile was dazzling when she turned it on him. Thank god he had set his knife down, or he would have lost a couple of fingers at this point. 

This time, he couldn't shake the smile that bloomed over his lips, however sheepish it was. "Of course—um, thank you." 

A peal of laughter left her lips as she traipsed out of the kitchen, heels in hand. "You're so sweet. I'm gonna change, but I'll be right back!" 

As if in a swirl of cherry blossoms and white lace, (Y/N) was gone. Along with her went the sparks that flooded his bloodstream and tremors in his fingers. 

God, he'd have thought knowing her since university days he would be used to her at this point. It was as if becoming roommates those couple of months ago did the opposite of acclimating him to her presence. He wasn't sure there was anything about her—the way she looked, the way she acted, the way she talked—that didn't hold even a bit of magic in his eyes. 

The sound of the oven timer going off brought Harry back to real life. Now that he was planning on sharing this dinner with (Y/N), he wanted to ensure everything was perfect. One of his favorite things about living with her was being able to take care of her through simple things like cooking dinner or making coffee in the morning. Every night she went out on a date or took a night off to go out for a girls night, he was there to get the rundown of her time away and feed her toast and water to lessen the blow of the morning hangover as much as he could. He was there for any and everything—even if he wasn't necessarily in the mood to hear about her feelings for another. He would rather be on her side even if she was on someone else's arm, than not be there at all. 

All while (Y/N) was readying herself for a night in with Harry, he was focusing on his knife strokes and mixing the different sauces to be drizzled over the bake. By the time she emerged with a set of pajamas on and her hair twisted out of her face, Harry had crafted the perfect dinner to be shared over an episode of their tropic reality dating show. 

He didn't wait for her before he was putting together her plate, dressed the way he knew she liked, sheets of nori off to the side along with a pair of chopsticks he taught her how to use years ago. 

"There's extra in the kitchen if y'want more," he murmured as he passed the plate to her hands, taking the spot on the couch at her side. 

"This looks so good, H," she beamed, looking at him with something he liked to think of as affection in her eyes, "Thank you again, really. You're already making my night so much better." 

"Good," he swallowed, dropping his eyes to the tip of her nose, "'M glad I could—um—make y'happy."

He could have cringed at the sound of his fumbling words, but that was only cut off when (Y/N) shot him a beaming smile and gave him a hug in the form of wrapping her arm around his own and resting her head on his shoulder for a lingering moment. 

"Wait! Wasn't he paired with Amber an episode ago?"

(Y/N)'s bubbled outrage was the perfect cover to the way his heart had landed in his throat. This way, he could concentrate on anything but himself and the reactions he was having over someone who was supposed to be just his friend.

"Yeah," Harry murmured, wrapping a bite of crispy rice and marinated salmon on a sheet of nori, "He pulled Lissa over for a chat at the start of this one." 

"Of course, he did," (Y/N) grumbled. 

While he would never wish anything but pure joy on her, Harry couldn't help the way his own happiness sprouted in his chest. He would never pass on a night like this.

—————

"Can I lay on you?" 

Harry blinked back to earth at the sound of (Y/N)'s voice over the familiar episode of a long ended reality show they'd already watched hundreds of times. Looking to her end of the couch, she was already slouched into the corner cushion, eyes heavy and hair tucked not a mess away from her face. 

He didn't think before he nodded his head, uncurling his legs to allow her space to lay her head. She murmured her gratitude in a sleepy voice as she stretched across the cushions to rest her head on his thighs. 

It was a familiar move, something that (Y/N) had done many times even prior to their roommate situation coming to fruition. She'd spilled to him more than once that she was a cuddly person—touchy-feely, was the way she put it—taking and loving all of the physical affection she was able to collect. Including from Harry, who always seemed to take the whole thing entirely too seriously. It was cute, she'd said, cute enough she couldn't help but to laugh. 

Tonight, she was already heavy-eyed and loose-limbed by the time she settled against his legs. Her hands were tucked under her cheek, a small barrier between his thigh and her cheek though he could still feel every ray of her warmth no matter what. 

He did his absolute best to stay relaxed despite the instinct to straighten his spine and tense his muscles at the affectionate way she laid over him. He wanted to be the best pillow he could be for her, and that wouldn't be possible if he resembled a wooden plank more than a fluffed case of feathers. 

Harry's win came in the form of a languid sigh that left her lips, (Y/N) practically going boneless against him. 

"You're the best, H," she murmured, just barely audible over the club music sounding from the television. "Thank you." 

Swallowing, he allowed his eyes to glaze over her form without her own watchful gaze on him. Hearing those words attached to that mouth from this gorgeous girl, was going to make him burst. 

"You're welcome," he whispered, urging his eyes to move on from the sliver of her midriff on display from the ruched hem of her top. 

As expected, a breathy laugh came from (Y/N). "You can touch me, you know," she said, twisting just enough to look up at him through flared lashes, "You don't have to keep your hands up like that." 

He hadn't even realized he froze with his limbs hovering over her, resting away as if there were a barrier holding him back. "Oh," he sounded, blood burning behind his cheeks, "Sorry." 

Could he be any more pathetic? Embarrassment surged through his veins. Was there any other way he could make it that much more obvious just how nervous (Y/N) made him? 

In a set of cautious movements, his hands floated back down to her form. He gently settled his palm on the cuff of her shoulder while the other rested near her head, where strands of hair brushed the stretch of his fingers. 

"It's okay," she said, the smile evident in her voice despite Harry not seeing the curl, "You're so silly, H." 

It was the way her voice trailed off, taking on a deeper octave than before, that showed him just how close she was to finding the other side of her eyelids. He instinctively began running his thumb along the ball of her shoulder, a circuit that had him skimming her soft skin with the sleeve of her top pushed out of the way. 

There was something about seeing her skin being dented by his touch, a touch that wasn't particularly strong or even rough at all. She wondered if she was able to feel the whorls of his print, the creasing of his knuckle. It was an innocent enough feeling, his hand upon her arm, but he felt his heart beginning to thump. His throat was thick enough he felt his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed. 

This was another facet that only took on a life of its own, the casual intimacy that had been sparked between them now that they shared a home. Laying her head on his shoulder in a passing hug, resting her head on his lap, practically asking him to put his hands on her as she was lulled to sleep. Logically, he was sure this was supposed to get easier as it went, the more it happened the magic was supposed to lessen. But, that just didn't happen.

His heart still thumped heavily. His stomach tightened and pitted and warmed. His...  well, other parts of him appreciate the touching too, even if he resented focusing on those parts of himself.

It felt more than wrong to acknowledge his baser interests in her, not when she was such a kind and loving friend to him. If that boundary between them was meant to be crossed, there were plenty of times both during their university days and the years that followed, that gave perfect opportunities for that line to be wiped away and crossed in favor of something new. Instead, they were still just friends—best friends, even. 

You're not supposed to get hard over your best friend. Not when she was doing nothing but falling asleep in his lap. Not when she was relaxing in her own home in comfortable pajamas—even if they were comprised of a soft t-shirt and pair of shorts just a touch too small that rolled up at the hem, giving more and more skin for his eyes to feast upon. Without a bra, of course. A fact evident in the way her nipples would peak against the material. 

No, he was not supposed to be hard over that. Not to mention the glaring fact that she spent nearly every weekend on a date with someone or going out with the express purpose of having fun and meeting other people. 

There was also, of course, the most prominent issue: he's a virgin. Even if he somehow managed to see more than just a friendship in him, he would have no idea how to take care of her. (Y/N) was someone who had experienced enough physical affection that she no doubt knew what she enjoyed and what she didn't; there was little to no appeal to teaching the one you're in bed with how to do the most basic of acts.

So he would keep his distance, even if the rest of his body refused to get on the same page. 

"Are you okay?" 

(Y/N)'s mumbled voice shook Harry from his thoughts. Blinking back to the real world, she was tipping her head up to look at him with sleepy eyes. 

"Hm?" he hummed, aware of the way his hand had gone still on her arm and his bones had grown stiff. 

"Do you want me to move or something?" she murmured, "So you can get comfortable? Sorry if I made your leg fall asleep." 

Harry's skin warmed to a flushing red. Of course, he would grow restless when she was on his mind. Taking stock of his body, at least he knew he wasn't that hard; any longer in his mind and he may have had a problem. 

"'S alright, 'm alright," he rushed out, "Jus' think 'm getting tired. Sorry." 

She smiled up at him, her hair haloing around her head in his lap. "It's okay," she laughed, "Do you want to go to bed? We can keep watching tomorrow instead." 

That was what he needed at the moment: distance. Some peace and quiet and a moment to get his head on straight. "Let's go to bed," he affirmed, mimicking her soft smile. 

Her movements were lethargic as she moved off of his lap. A curling stretch had her raising her arms above her head, the hem of her top lifting just enough to show a sliver of skin above the waistline of her shorts. Harry quickly retracted his eyes, settling his gaze to his feet instead. 

Turning to him, with eyes slightly hooded and limbs languid, (Y/N) gave him a smile. "Goodnight, H," she mumbled, "Thanks for making my night better."

Collecting him in her arms, Harry didn't have to think before he was reciprocating her hug. The scent of her perfume twisted around him, stray hairs tickling the tip of his nose. Her words echoed in his head. 

He made her night. She made his life. 

"Goodnight, (Y/N)," he crooned, melting into her hug for just a moment longer before unwrapping himself from her hold. "'M happy I could help." 

Her smile was sweet as she turned on her socked feet towards her bedroom. "See you in the morning." 

He watched as she pushed open her bedroom door, her eyes glanced over her shoulder at him. Her pretty, pretty eyes. 

"See you in the morning." 

With that, the night ended as she closed her bedroom door behind her. 

Though she stayed just where she was on Harry's mind. 

—————

Harry wiped his hands clean now that the sink was cleared of all dirty dishes. The clock on the stove detailed the time as eleven thirty-two, a half an hour longer than he meant to stay up tonight. But, he supposed that's what happened when he decided to take a nap instead of cleaning up the kitchen after dinner. 

Quiet voices sounded through the living room from the show running on the television though Harry didn't pay it any mind as he swept through the space. (Y/N) was out for a girls night, leaving it Harry's turn to take care of the common spaces to ensure neither of them would have to tidy anything in the morning. Plus, he didn't think it would be very nice of him to leave her stumbling over his pile of shoes when she came home after a night of drinking and crashing on a friend's couch. 

He could still see traces of her scattered about the space in the form of stray glitters from her outfit, a pair of loose hair ties left on the table by the door, right next to her usual handbag ransacked with only a few random items left in it from the essentials she pulled from it to take out on the town with her. He hoped she was having a fun night—she deserved it. 

After cleaning up and turning off the television and lights, Harry retired to his bedroom upstairs. Turning on some music through his headphones, he started on his nighttime routine. It was definitely less extensive than the one he'd seen (Y/N) do night after night, but there were a few serums and techniques he'd stolen from her—including the lavender room spray he was addicted to misting through his room before laying his head down. It turned his dreams decadently sweet, he thought. (Or it could be because he always fell asleep with (Y/N) on his mind, the lavender scent reminding him of her every night without fail).

But, this time, when he laid his head on his fluffed pillow, delicate music filtering through the space from his bluetooth speaker, Harry wasn't ready to go to bed. He had known the evening nap he took wasn't the smartest idea, leaving his limbs restless and eyes wide open. As soon as he knew (Y/N) was home safe in the morning, Harry planned on running all of the errands he'd pushed off this weekend, and a late wakeup time wasn't going to be the most productive move. 

There were only so many things he could think of doing to tire himself out. Scrolling on his phone was a no-go considering how he knew the blue-light would only urge him to stay awake, his book was too riveting to be a useful bedtime story, and going for a run this late wasn't the best option. He just needed to tire himself out. 

Fitting his bottom lip between his teeth, Harry figured there was another option. 

He wasn't quite in the mood at the moment, he could put himself there he figured. He doubted it would take much work, really. 

As if this were a laborious task, Harry kicked his comforter from his hips with a sigh. He reached for his phone on instinct, opening up a familiar application to help color his imagination. Without much ceremony, he pushed his sweats down just enough to fit his hand down his underwear. He would do this quickly, he decided; fast and hard, to put him to sleep sooner rather than later. 

It didn't take long to feel himself harden in his grasp, photos and videos of various couples wrapped around one another and those in solo situations fueling his head. His breathing grew heavy in his chest, mouth falling open as a particularly titillating video of a woman with her hands between her legs filled his screen. 

With the audio still playing, Harry's head fell back against the pillows. His eyes fell closed, a sigh leaving his lips. Pulling his hand from his length, he brought the appendage to his mouth before spitting against his palm. With his hand now slick, the wet pumps of his fist along his cock now filled the air. His toes curled in his sheets, free hand tightly gripping his phone. 

While it wasn't something he wanted to do, it was terribly easy to let his mind wander to the pretty girl that had left him home alone tonight. The fit of her dress had been hard enough to process when he was clear minded, now that was a nearly impossible task. 

The dress was new, a silky piece with embroidered flowers and thick straps cuffing her shoulders. It was tight along the bodice, cupping her breasts and curve of her waist before flaring out along her hips. The hem cut off at the mid of her thigh, leaving the length of her legs on display down to the comfortable shoes she chose for the night. (The high heels from the weekend prior had been shoved to the back of her closet for the time being, the blisters on her feet enough to have her avoiding them at the moment). 

It was a terrible, horrible, repulsive thought to have about his roommate, but Harry knew that all it would have taken was a bend of her hips and he would have seen the curve of her bottom. If he had been bold enough to look, he was sure he would have caught a glance down the bodice of her dress when she came to him to say goodbye for the night. 

His cock twitched at the reminder of her body pressed against him when she hugged him goodbye. If he was a different man and they were in a different situation, he would have grabbed her hips and held her close. He would have found the line of her panties through her dress, felt the curve of her bottom over the silk. 

He liked to imagine she would hold him back, that she would lean into the angles and muscles of his body. He could see her tipping her head, leaving him the room to drop his lips over the curve of her neck and shelf of her collarbone. 

He liked to imagine her wanting him back. That he would be able to satisfy her and take her expertly, tying her to him as he pushed his hand between her legs—or, god, his head—and brought her to the edge. What he wouldn't give to know what the melody of her voice sounded like when steeped in pleasure.

Harry pumped his hand that much harder along his length, the put of his stomach growing tight like the thick bands of muscles on his thighs. His breathing was harsh, wheezing out against his clenched teeth. 

"Fuck," he panted, hips bucking against his hand when he thought of what could have happened had he pushed (Y/N)'s dress up to her middle. Precum dribbled from his tip, streaking down to his shaft and mixing with the slick of his spit. 

He was going to cum, he could feel it. His muscles were bunched tight, eyes screwed shut with his own personal pornography projected against his eyelids. 

"Harry, are you awa—Oh! Oh my god, bye!" 

In a second, Harry snapped from the throes of pleasure just to see the tail-end of (Y/N)'s silken dress flashing out of his doorway. Behind her, his door slammed shut, cutting her words in half. 

She wasn't supposed to be home. She was supposed to be spending the night at Rue's house. What was she doing here? 

Oh, god—fuck—she's home. (Y/N) came home and saw him jerking himself off to the thought of her. Shit, fuck, shit.

His movements were fumbling and disjointed as he pulled his pants back up and attempted to wipe his hand of the evidence against a dirty t-shirt that should have been in his hamper. Jesus Christ, what the fuck was he thinking? He was so lost in his head, he didn't even hear the door open? Didn't hear her footsteps stomping up the stairs?

Was he supposed to talk to her? Or were they supposed to avoid each other until someone inevitably broke the lease and they never spoke to one another ever again? 

The latter option hurt his chest, but the former cast his body in a sweat. 

He sat on the edge of his bed, eyes trained on the floor beneath his feet. 

Why couldn't he have just gone to sleep? Why did he have to take that nap and leave him thinking he needed to tire himself out? Why did this have to happen?

Did she know he was thinking of her? He wasn't entirely mindful of his words, had he let out a call of her name? How long had she been home before she barged in?

Harry hung his head, shaking his head as he attempted to spool himself back in. If not for the fact that he was concerned about the fact she'd made her way home instead of staying with her friends, he's sure he would have spent the entire night hiding in his home. But, unfortunately, his heart still beat for her and he needed to know that she was okay, at the very least. 

Summoning the courage, Harry stood from his seat at the edge of her bed, his hands shaking before curling into fists. They were best friends—she'd seen him with his head hung over the toilet with chunks being hurled from his mouth, with greasy limp hair until he figured out the right products for his strands, the puffy-eyed, snot-nosed sobs he let out when he failed his first mid-term their entry year of university. There were few more embarrassing situations to be found in.

He was telling himself that, anyway. 

Steeling himself, Harry moved to push open his door and seek out (Y/N) only to be stopped in his tracks when he ran right into her. 

"Harry!" she bubbled, wobbling in her spot as she reached out to grab his arms. She steadied herself with the grip. "Are you okay? Sorry, I didn't know you were there." 

It was then that he noticed the slur to her words. Her eyes, ever pretty and with only remnants of mascara remaining, were glassy. More than being startled as she ran into him, she had reached for him to keep her steady on her feet. She smelled of perfume, a dark bar's worth of smoke and cologne, and the sting of alcohol. 

"'M alright," he mumbled, reaching for her arm across his chest as he scrutinized "Are you?" 

"Mhm," she hummed, blinking up at him, "Are you?" 

A small smile touched the corner of his mouth. She almost made it easy for him to forget what had happened just moments earlier. "'M alright," he repeated, "I didn't know y'were coming home tonight." 

"Oh yeah. I was supposed to," she sighed as if there was a length of story behind her words, "But, Rue got busy, so Kim said I could stay at hers, but honestly I just wanted to come back to you. I felt bad leaving you to have dinner by yourself, and I missed you so I just had her boyfriend drop me off here." 

God, had his blunder even happened? Hearing her say I missed you so flippantly all while clutching his arms and blinking right up at him was enough to bring him to his knees. She wasn't acting at all like she'd just walked in on his private moment. 

"Oh," he sounded, finding his words, "I hope I didn't make y'feel like y'needed to come back." 

She shook her head before he even finished talking. "No, no, no. I wanted to come home—I wanted to be with you. I wish you'd come out with us sometime, you'd have so much fun." 

While Harry was reeling over her words, the sentiments she was sharing so freely, (Y/N) traipsed past him. The ghost of her grip on his arms stuck around in the moments after she left him behind to approach his bed. He turned to face her with his lips rolled between his teeth in an effort to keep anything embarrassing from spilling off his tongue, only to see her slipping off her shoes. 

She left them in an unceremonious pile by his bed when she caught him looking. "What?" 

"What—um—what are you doing?" He hoped he didn't sound as rude as he did in his head. Truly, he didn't know what she was doing, beginning to shed the night while in his room.

Unabashedly, she looked up at him with a flutter of her lashes. "Can I stay here with you? Like a sleepover?" 

His heart stopped in his chest only to leap up to the base of his throat. "A sleepover?" 

"Yeah," she sighed, pulling at the hem of her dress, "Is that okay?" 

Logically, with how intoxicated she was, it was the safer option to keep her with him tonight. In case anything were to happen, of course. 

(There was everything else bubbling in his stomach, too. All the bubbles popping with whispers urging him on to keep her just where she was amongst all of his things, where he can take care of her.)

"Y'can stay," he murmured, offering a soft smile as he gazed at her. "Do y'want me to grab some clothes for you?" 

"Sure," she chirped, already blindly dealing with her hair, "Thank you, Harry." 

He gave her another smile before he left towards her bedroom a floor below. Somehow, within the confines of his home, fresh air entered his lungs and cleared his middled head. Being around her right now was making Harry feel just as drunk as she actually was. 

Maybe she hadn't seen what he was doing when she walked in? While he couldn't imagine he wasn't being completely obvious with his hand at his groin and head thrown back, she may have been too drunk to realize what he was doing. Otherwise, Harry just couldn't fathom how he was being so normal afterwards—asking if she could have a sleepover in his room, even. 

Pulling out a set of pajamas from the stack of laundry on the end of her bed, Harry tried not to dwell as he started back up the stairs to his bedroom. If she didn't want to talk about it, neither would he. (If he had any luck on his side, she might not even remember what she may or may not have seen. The memory might be one of the few that went fuzzy for her). 

Heading back into his bedroom, (Y/N) was sat crossed legged on his bed, eyes decidedly much heavier than when he had left her. Her hair was now tied up and out of the way of her face, shoes and socks in a messy pile on his floor. She perked up when he entered, eyes brightening though still glassy and tired. 

"You're back! You were gone for so long, I was scared you forgot I was home." 

Harry could only laugh at her declaration. How could he ever forget about her, let alone when she was asking to spend the night in his bed? 

"Couldn't forget about you," he admitted, his smile soft as he dropped his eyes from hers, "I hope these are alright to sleep in." 

He passed off the sleep clothes he picked for her, watching as she unfurled the pieces without even looking at them. "They're perfect, H. Thank you so much." 

Standing up from her spot on his bed, she didn't hesitate before wrapping him in a hug. Harry stood motionless for a brief moment, attempting to process the affection. All while clad in the tiny dress he had just been fantasizing about barely twenty minutes prior, the full of her soft body was pressed against his. 

Would he ever not react like a teenager with a crush when it came to her? How much longer would he feel with the racing heart and sweaty palms until his instincts caught up with the reality of her disinterest in him in that way?

Reciprocating her hold, Harry hugged (Y/N) to his chest. She all but melted into him, the effect of the alcohol in her system weighing her down (though he would like to imagine it was because she liked holding him as much as he did her). He was sure she could feel the rapid beat of his heart under her cheek—hopefully a distraction from the touch of his unsure hands hovering across her back. 

"You're so warm," she mumbled against the material of his shirt, the words slurred and nearly unintelligible. "You should've come out with me tonight; I forgot my jacket but I would have at least had you." 

Harry's fingers tensed over her back. The pumps of his heart throbbed down to his fingertips, his lashes fluttering in a blink. She had to stop talking like that; he was already well into losing his mind over her, there was no need to keep piling it on. 

"Sorry," he breathed, the word feeling lame as it fell from his tongue. 

He made no move to recoil from her until she did, making the first move to unwrap her arms from around his middle. His eyes followed her as she focused then on trudging to his bathroom and dressing for the night. She tossed a noncommittal promise to be right back over her shoulder before disappearing behind his bathroom door. 

Left alone, Harry sat on the edge of his bed. He looked at the floor to where her mess of discarded accessories lay in a rumpled pile, a visible cue of her presence. 

She'd never asked to stay in his bedroom like this before. Even on other nights where she clamored home with alcohol in her blood, she'd never stumbled into his room with the intention of having a "sleepover" with him. 

But, of course, the one night she does, is when she walks in on him with his hand down his pants.

The reminder of the moment had a heavy sigh heaving his chest. He wished he was just as drunk as (Y/N), that way he had a chance of possibly forgetting the incident in the morning. Instead, he had a feeling he was going to be dwelling on it for at least another week, if not more. On the plus side, it didn't appear she had any intention of talking to him about it. 

In a clumsy string of movements, (Y/N) made her entrance back into his bedroom with a strong swing of the door. Her clothing was rumpled as she padded across the floor on bare feet. She only barely acknowledged him before she threw herself onto his bed. 

Harry let out a breathy laugh. "Do y'want anything to drink or eat before y'fall asleep?" 

"No," she moaned, wriggling her way into his bedding. "Tired." 

"Do y'need to take off your makeup?" he pressed, standing to help her adjust the layers of sheets and comforter over her form.

"I already did," she countered, tugging the bedding up to her chin as she gazed up at him. Truthfully, he couldn't tell if she really did remove her makeup given the shadows still around her eyes, but if that's the story she was going with, he wasn't arguing. 

"Alright," he sighed, knotting his hands together as he stood beside his bed as if it wasn't his own, "Y'really want to have a sleepover tonight?" 

(Y/N) didn't even blink before she was nodding her head. "Yeah. Your bed is bigger than mine." 

Harry hummed, now seeing the root of her new fascination with spending the night with him. "And y'want me to stay with you?" he asked, wanting to ensure they were both on the same page. 

"Duh," she laughed, turning until she was comfortable with her head on the pillow he'd just been laying against. "Lay down, we're supposed to talk before we fall asleep like a real sleepover." 

While he found humor in the whole situation, his hands still held a slight tremor as he turned down his side—his side—of the bed. 

Was this how he was supposed to do this? How did one share a bed? Other than true sleepovers as a kid, where he and friends would squeeze into beds too small after staying up way too late, there was never a time he'd shared a bed with another. Especially not so with someone he held... extra feelings for. Feelings that he hadn't quite shaken if the way his briefs were just a touch tighter than they should be was anything to go by. 

Working on autopilot, Harry slid into bed. He could feel the dip in the mattress from (Y/N)'s body, a certain warmth spreading across his sheets he'd never experienced before. The scent of her night still clung to her, though now the fragrance of fresh sheets and Harry's own cologne swirled between them. Sleepy blinks were offered to him as he stiffly laid among his bedding, (Y/N)'s tired eyes trained on him.

He swallowed, feeling the weight of her attention on him. "What are y'th—" 

His line of questioning was cut off when (Y/N) sloppily rolled towards him, lying flush against the line of his body. She molded herself to him with a sigh, her head snuggled into the cove underneath his chin. 

"What did you do tonight?" were her mumbled words, slurred and fuzzy against his neck. 

Harry, stunned for the moment, laid still. Those moments with her head laying on his lap or a press of their shoulders together could do nothing to prepare him for this. (Y/N)'s slight shuffle against him was enough to knock him back to earth, his limbs carefully laying around her in a delicate hold. 

"Um, what?" Harry asked, mind having been wiped of the last handful of minutes. 

"What did you do while I was gone?" 

"Oh," he sounded, aware of the way his arm fell across the curve of her waist and smooth planes of her back he could feel through her top, "Nothing really; jus' took a nap and cleaned the kitchen. Nothing exciting—not like you, it sounds like." 

(Y/N) hummed from her hiding place in his neck. "Nothing exciting at all?" she sang, a teasing lilt to her drunken voice. 

Harry swallowed. She wasn't hinting at anything in particular, right? 

"I mean, I started a new book before I took m'nap," he hedged, eyes stuck on the concert poster he had pasted to his wall. "But that's really it." 

She shifted in his hold, pulling out of his arms just enough to look up at him. Her eyes were still swimming and glossy, but she didn't shy away from his gaze. There was a small tick at the corner of her lips.

"Are we not going to talk about it? Because we don't have to, I just want to know." 

His muscles wound tight as he listened to her. She kept her voice decidedly quiet, as if there was anyone else around that could overhear. 

Were they going to talk about it? That wasn't really a decision Harry wanted to make, but he couldn't turn away the option now that it was served up to him. 

"Um," he fumbled, his mouth lagging behind his racing mind, "I—Uh—I... 'M sorry." 

Canting her head, (Y/N) blinked at him. "Sorry?" 

His throat bobbed, tongue suddenly too thick in his mouth. "'M sorry, I... I didn't know y'were coming home, I wouldn't have... you know. I didn't mean for you to see or... hear." 

Please god, he hoped she hadn't heard a thing—that he said or thought. 

(Y/N)'s features cracked into a smile when she finally processed what he'd said. It only took a moment for that smile to bloom into a peal of laughter. 

"Harry, it's not that serious," she got out in-between giggles, "You didn't do anything wrong—it's not like I don't think you do that kind of stuff. I just didn't know if we were going to ignore that I walked in or if we were going to laugh about it. You're not supposed to be sorry for anything; I should have knocked, anyway." 

Harry's mouth went dry. He wasn't sure what kind of reaction this was. Was this only because of the vodka in her system? Or was she really this comfortable with the events of the evening? If it were the other way around, Harry didn't think he would be able to speak let alone laugh at the situation for at least a whole week. 

(Though that could be entirely attributed to the fact that he had that thorny crush on her stuck to the chambers of his heart). 

The lump in his throat cracked and allowed a breathy laugh to come through after a heartbeat. Maybe she was right, it wasn't that serious. It's not like she could have known he was thinking about her. They were both adults, people who were more than able and accustomed to pleasuring their bodies—there was no reason to be weird about it if she wasn't going to be. 

"Jus', should have locked m'door at least," he laughed, joining her as he sagged into the mattress. 

"Yeah," she pressed, settling against him once more now that the seal was broken between them, "I always lock my door, you're too brave." 

He hoped she didn't notice the way his hands pulsed when she so casually brought up her own moments in her bedroom. He wasn't strong enough to broach that subject just yet. 

"Maybe," he agreed, "Sorry, anyway. Not the nicest thing to come home to, that's for sure." 

"I mean," (Y/N) started, her voice breathy as she sunk into his arms, "It wasn't that bad. More embarrassing for you than anything else, I bet." 

The laughter from his chest died down then. His brain caught on her words. "Not that bad?" he parroted, unsure of what or why he was even asking. 

"I mean, you're cute, H. You know that," she said oh-so casually. "I feel bad I walked in and scared you, but I can't act like it was the absolute worst moment of my life or something." She spoke with amusement, a touch of laughter carrying out her words as if this was all so easy. 

"Oh," Harry started, swallowing around his dry throat, "Y'think 'm cute?" 

She rolled into him, tucking herself against him once more. Harry didn't doubt that she was well acquainted with the pounding of his pulse at this point. "Of course I do, you know that. You're, like, the cutest guy I know. I mean," she sighed, voice slurring even more with the dredges of sleep tugging at her words, "you didn't have to stop earlier, if you didn't want to. I could've helped." 

Harry's body stopped working in that moment. Time was moving too fast around him while he was seemingly stuck in that moment. 

What? Is that a normal thing to say? Is this what happens when you share a bed with someone, even if they were only a friend?

His palms grew clammy. "What do you mean?" 

"You know," she yawned, "Just... I know you don't go on dates or bring anyone home or anything, so I could help you if you ever wanted. You're too cute to be by yourself, H." 

What the fuck? What was even happening at the moment? Was he delusional? Or dreaming so intensely he couldn't be sure if it was real or not? But he swore, crossing his heart and all, that this was real and completely happening all while (Y/N) was tucked in his arms with her mouth hovering by his throat. 

And she was offering to jerk him off sometime. Because he was too cute to do it by himself. 

What the fuck? 

"(Y/N)?" 

Harry received no answer. Her chest pressed against his and receded in even paces, puffs of air fanning across the slope of his neck. 

Staring once more at the poster on his wall, Harry didn't feel a single sleepy bone in his body. If he had thought he was restless before, there was no way he was getting any sleep tonight. 

—————

Exhaustion shackled his limbs as Harry moved through the kitchen. Just as he figured, there wasn't more than an hour of sleep in his system, his mind running too fast to allow him any kind of relaxation. Not when there was the extra presence in his bed. 

By the time the sun cracked through his curtains and (Y/N) had rolled to show her back to him, Harry forced himself out of bed. He doubted she was going to have an easy wakeup after the night she'd had, and he was already in shambles, making breakfast essential for the both of them to get through the morning hours. 

That didn't make it any easier, though. A large part of him wanted to stay tucked amongst his sheets, cozy and warm with the best view he could imagine available just before him. Despite that urge, a smaller part of him was still drenched in the complication that came with the slurred words she offered just before dozing off. 

First of all, he wasn't sure if he was supposed to be embarrassed that she noticed he'd never really dated before and definitely never brought home anyone. It was bad enough that he was well aware of his lack of dating and sex life, he wasn't comforted at the idea of (Y/N) taking note. Second, what did it even mean to be too cute to be by himself? It brought a flush to his cheeks, the implication. But, was it really a compliment to be cute? He'd never heard (Y/N) describe any of the people she was interested in as cute; they were always pretty, and glowing, and handsome, and—of course—hot as fuck. 

Harry didn't want to know where he placed on her scale of attractiveness. 

Then, lest he forget, there was the whole offer of her taking care of him. If he ever wanted, of course. 

Even just the memory of her words was enough to have his limbs going robotic as he moved through the kitchen. He was going to burn his croissant if he wasn't careful. It was enough to even overshadow the moment she had walked in on him, it was that monumental to him.

But, Harry had a feeling that she wasn't going to remember much of the night before, let alone a throwaway comment right before falling asleep. And that was going to be better for the both of them.

Once he had twin plates of scrambled eggs with cheese, buttery croissants, and cut up fruit, he was daring to step back up the stairs to his bedroom. He felt like an intruder, knowing (Y/N) was still asleep, wrapped up in his bedding. Even if it was to wake her for breakfast, he felt reluctant to pull her from much needed rest.

Though, as soon as he pushed open the door, Harry realized he wasn't going to have to worry about waking her up. Not when she was already looking at him, blinking the sleep out of her eyes with the creases of his pillow etched in her cheek.

"Harry," she sighed, bringing a hand up to rub at her eye, "You're awake." 

"You're awake," he parroted, "I didn't think I'd see y'until this afternoon." 

She nodded absently, missing the amusement in his voice. "Me neither. Where did you go? I thought you'd left me here." 

It was the pout on her face and the downward lilting of her voice that had him taking a step towards his bed. "'M sorry," he murmured, feeling guilt pinch at his heart, "I was jus' downstairs making dinner. I was about to come get you and see if y'were hungry." 

"Breakfast?" she chirped, waking up that much more at the offer of food. 

"Eggs and those croissants," he confirmed, words coming out in a song as he tempted her with the offer. 

"That sounds so good, thank you," she muttered, voice genuinely warm as her gaze wrapped around him from across the room, "Will you come lay with me for a few more minutes, though? I don't want to get up yet." 

"I can bring your plate up here, if y'want," Harry offered, though they both saw him taking those quiet steps towards her.

(Y/N) simply shook her head. "Just you." 

Those two syllables launched him back to the night prior, where she couldn't continue her night without telling him just how much she had wanted only him through her night of bar hopping. Just him—the one on her mind, supposedly. He was too cute to be by himself.

Harry didn't respond before he was slipping into bed beside her, taking up the dented spot where his body had laid stiffly the night before. She took her spot against his form wordlessly, as if it were a part of the norm to snuggle up to him in the morning. 

"Thank you for letting me sleep in here last night," (Y/N) murmured, her chest expanding against his as she peered up at him through her lashes, "I know I was kind of a mess."

"No, no," he shook his head, "Y'were jus' fine. 'M happy y'came home instead of staying somewhere y'didn't want to." 

A small peal of laughter fanned across his skin. "I think everyone was getting annoyed anyway," she started, "I kept telling them that I shouldn't have left you home alone, so I think they were ready for me to just go back." 

Harry could feel his skin going warm. With his eyes closed, he attempted to keep his breathing from hitching. She was going to kill him one of these days. 

"Y'dont' have to worry about me when y'go out, (Y/N)," he insisted, voice as quiet as the grazing of his hands across her back. "'M fine, you go have fun." 

If not for the fact he was hyper aware of her body and just how close she was, he doubted he would have noticed the small shift she made across the sheets to land further in his arms. 

"You're just," she sighed, pausing between her words, "I don't want you to feel left behind or lonely. You're a good friend and you deserve to have fun and feel good." 

Her proposition that he had pushed to the back of his mind was suddenly roped right to the front. Of course, there was the damper of being such a good friend to her that she felt this way, but there was the rest of the statement to contend with first. 

"I—um—'M fine, (Y/N). Really. 'M actually pretty good company, if y'ask me." He had hoped she would join him when he let out a breathy laugh, but he made the only sound in the room. 

The pause lasted just long enough Harry wondered if (Y/N) had fallen asleep again before he heard her voice: 

"Like last night?" His heart all but stopped in his chest. For the second time in the last twenty-four hours, time seemed to stand still while everything in his body went into overdrive. 

She wasn't supposed to remember that. She was supposed to be too plastered to remember anything, let alone the one moment with her he's ever regretted. What was he supposed to say to her? Was she teasing him, was he disgusted now that she was sober enough to have an opinion, was this one big joke that he was going to hav—

"(Y/N), I—" He started unraveling himself from her before she popped up with wide eyes. 

"No, no, I'm sorry," she rushed out, "That wasn't—I'm not trying to—I'm not making fun of you or, I don't know. I just mean..." She looked at him with uncertain crinkles by her eyes, her lips pursed as if she wanted to speak but had to hold back. 

"'M fine," he started again, sitting up amongst the rumpled bedding, "'M sorry if I ma—" 

"Do you remember what I said last night?" 

As soon as the question tumbled from her lips, Harry swore the room became five degrees hotter. 

"Do you remember?" he attempted to joke, though neither of them cracked a smile. 

She gave a nod. "About... you know. I could... help, if you wanted. So you're not by yourself." 

His mouth ran dry. There was much more power to the offer in the light of the morning with (Y/N)'s clear eyes directed to him. There was no slur of alcohol to her voice or liquid to her bones. 

She was entirely serious. So serious, she was asking him again. 

"You don't have to do that, (Y/N)," he murmured, dropping his gaze from hers. This was too much, to have to decline her—decline her pity offer after walking in on him with his hand down his pants the night before. "Really, 'm alright. I have no problem being... by myself." 

(Y/N) looked away with her lips rolled between her teeth. "I know I don't have to, but I want to. You deserve someone to look after you the way you look after me." 

"I don't think I look after you quite like that, though," he tired again, his light-hearted tone attempting to ease the tension. (Y/N) didn't grab the lifeline. 

"At least let me set you up with someone then?" (Y/N) offered this time, "I want you to meet someone you care about, then. At the very least, then we could double date." 

"I really... I don't want anyone. I'm okay." Anyone, but her was the right thing to say, but that wasn't something he was willing to admit at the moment. 

"There's this girl I know, though," she chattered off, suddenly coming to life, "You would really get along with her, H. She's super pretty, she's tall, and I don't think she likes Italian food, but we could work on—"

 "'M really okay, ser—" 

"No, H, she always loves reading—it's actually kind of funny how much she talks about all these books and—" 

Harry felt his stomach beginning to twist and turn. She could be the nicest woman in the world, this friend of hers. But there were many reasons why he was never going to take (Y/N) up on this offer. 

Starting with the fact that the one girl he had his eye on was right in front of him, and ending with the glaring truth of his virginity. He doubted (Y/N) or any of her friends like her were going to be very invested in that.

"And, not to get gross, but she's super hot. Like her body, H, you have to see her—"

"I'm a virgin." 

A flush ran up his skin, blooming his veins and reddening his skin. Why did he say that? Why did he share that? Is he suddenly an idiot? Was he now lacking a verbal filter and had to say everything that came to mind?

At the very least, (Y/N) finally stopped. The many wonderful and hot attributes of her friend had stopped. There was only a blanket of silence floating between them now. 

His heartbeat sounded in his ears before (Y/N) had any kind of reaction

"Oh," was all that fell from her lips. 

Peeking through his lashes, he was waiting for her to recoil. To look at him a little funny—the way the few that had learned that information looked at him. That moment of questioning how someone could have avoided sex (as if that was what he was up to), then wondering if there was something wrong with him, if there was something hiding under his skin that he was unwilling to share. Most people tried to recover as quickly as they could, brightening and telling him that it was alright. Plenty of people were waiting until marriage, they couldn't blame him of course! 

It was an uncomfortable conversation, one Harry let the other party lead. He never really felt like getting into the why's and the moments that he decided to turn down a potential warm bed. Or why it wasn't within his capabilities to have sex outside of a relationship with trust in the mix, or the fact that he'd never been in a relationship that met those qualifications. 

But, (Y/N) didn't do that. She looked at him with appraising eyes, not in search of something wrong. She looked at him like there was so much to be seen, to the point she couldn't believe it just because he was... him. 

"I didn't know that," she muttered, canting her head, "I always just kind of figured that you weren't." Her eyes widened then. "Wait, I've said so many things, why did you never correct me?"

Harry shrugged, the sheets rustling around him. "I know 's not... normal, so I jus' don't really talk about it. 'S easier if I jus' let y'assume." 

Her expression fell a little then. "I hope I never made you feel like you couldn't tell me," her eyes were soft as she gazed at him, "You know it didn't change anything to me, right?" 

A small smile cracked his lips. "Thanks."

She relaxed a touch then, her muscles untensing from the tension he injected with his admission. "Is it weird to ask you why? Like, why you've waited and everything?" 

"I wouldn't really say I've waited," he clarified, "I jus'... I've met people I wanted to be with and all of that, and I've had opportunities but I didn't take them." He paused, rolling his lips between his teeth; this was one of the harder bits to admit. It sounded silly even to his own ears, even if it was something he believed in. "I've never had anyone I trusted enough to share that... experience with. So I've just never." 

(Y/N) listened intently, eyes clear with a cant to her head. God, even with the harsh beating of his heart as he exhumed his secrets, she really was the absolute prettiest. 

"I get it," she muttered, "It's easier to wait than to spend the rest of your life regretting it." 

"Exactly," he exaggeratedly murmured, "'S like y'live in m'head, (Y/N)." 

His attempt at joking was enough to pull a small laugh from her chest. (Y/N) relaxed further into his bed, carving a dent into his mattress just at his side. Finally, that comfortable silence he lived in with her returned. 

He couldn't believe he'd been so flighty about this whole thing. This wasn't one of the things he needed to be nervous about, not compared to what she had walked into last night. And even that incident was less earth shattering than he made it out to be. 

(Y/N)'s tone was much less trepidatious when she spoke again, a decided difference than even a moment before. "Have you done anything else, though? Or have you waited for the whole thing?" 

"Haven't done anything," he responded, with a heaving sigh, "'M waiting on the whole experience I guess." 

"With someone you trust." 

A small smile bloomed over his features. "With someone I trust." 

A beat of silence passed between them. (Y/N) fiddled with the comforter tangled at her waist. "Can I ask you one more thing?" 

Harry hummed an acknowledgement. He should have agreed to get back into bed with her, he was beginning to consider leaving breakfast for this afternoon in favor of a quick nap. 

"Do you trust me?" 

It was the way she said it less than the actual words she said that had a pang echoing through Harry's chest. Of course, he trusted her; she was his best friend. Though, Harry doubted that was what she was trying to get at.

He gave a small confirmation in the form of a quiet yes. 

(Y/N) twisted in the sheets, looking up at him with clear eyes. Her lips glistened, the tip of her tongue having grazed over the pillows. "I know you said you're waiting and everything, but if you wanted to... change that, and you trust me...we could do whatever you wanted." 

As startling as the proposition was last night, this one inspired a twist in his stomach. This wasn't a drunken idea gone rogue. She was looking at him with a steady gaze and lips worried between her teeth. She was serious. She wanted to "do whatever" he wanted. With him. 

Despite there being no visible traces of pity on (Y/N)'s face, he truly could barely fathom the idea of her offering herself up to him so willingly. Especially after learning that there would be little he could offer in return—his skills were more than lacking. 

"(Y/N), you don't want to do that," he started, "'M alright, I d—" 

"I do," she cut him off, the words tumbling from her mouth without thought, "I do want to, I mean. You know I care about you right, Harry?" 

His mouth ran dry. "I know." 

A small smile touched her mouth. "You don't have to, obviously. I just wanted you to know that if you ever don't want to wait or kind of just want to get the pressure out of the way, I'm here."

 Was Harry going to explode? Was he going to flick through the room like a balloon deflating of helium? Or was his stomach going to swallow him whole and leave behind only the sticky tar of his feelings? 

And she was being so casual about it. She offered it as if there was no gravity to her words. 

"You don't have to say anything, though. Just remember that," she said with a soft smile, sitting up in bed with eyes on the door, "You said break—" 

"I want to." 

As soon as the declaration choked out of his throat, Harry wanted to cringe. He wanted to retract every breath, every thought, every twist of his tongue against his teeth that brought him here. Sure, she was offering, but there was such a thing as being over eager.

(Y/N) paused, glancing back to him. A light graced the hue of her irises. 

"Really?" 

He didn't trust himself to say another word. Harry only nodded. 

"You don't want to wait, anymore?" she prodded, forgetting the cracked door and the food downstairs. 

Now wasn't the time to give her the full list of why this exact moment was a dream come true (just short of having her as his girlfriend and holding her hand as they went to the movies), but she had offered a few good points. 

"I mean," he started, swallowing as his eyes dropped to the tip of her nose in avoidance of her eyes, "I do trust you. If there's anyone I know I wouldn't regret sharing this with, 's you." 

"I suppose we are best friends," (Y/N) added, layering her voice with a smile, "But, you're sure?" 

"I am," he said without a moment of hesitation, "Maybe jus' not... everything? I think that might be a bit much for me." 

"Of course, of course," she rushed out, waving her hands as if to wipe the pressure out of the air, "We'll only do what you want." 

Maybe Harry was a bit too much of an open book, unable to truly hide whatever it was that was running through his head, but he couldn't help the way his eyes immediately dropped to her hands. 

Harry knew just how soft her hands were. He'd seen the hand creams she used every night, and felt the plush skin every time they grazed hands or she made the dangerous decision of just laying a hand on his arm every time he made her laugh just a little too much. There was even once, way back when they'd first started becoming friends, that she had him to compare hand sizes. Even now, he vividly remembered just how soft her palm was against his, the stretch of her fingers that didn't reach up to the tips of his own. It was a memory he held onto and one he couldn't get out of his head at that moment. 

He'd thought more than once what it would be like to have her hand on him instead of his own between the sheets. What the visual of her pretty manicured nails, digits of her fingers, the softness of her palm would look like fisted around his length. He didn't have to know to be certain he wouldn't last very long if he ever had the chance to find out. 

From the corner of his eyes, he saw the wide smile mold (Y/N)'s features. 

"Really?" she coyly asked, stretching out her fingers from the cover of her sleeves. 

"Hm?" he hummed, forcing his eyes back to her own. 

A peal of laughter fell from her lips as she crawled back to her spot at his side. "My hands. That's all you want?" 

His skin felt flush as he nodded, his bottom lip wedged between his teeth. "Only if you want." 

She hovered above him, the tips of her hair hanging around them like a curtain. She looked like a dream there, only slats of light working across her face. Shadows sliced over her cheekbones and the length of her lashes with the pretty color of her eyes gleaming in the sun and the curve of her lips highlighted. 

He must be dreaming, but he was never this anxious in his dreams. Especially not one so lovely. 

"No one's ever done that for you before?" she asked, taking up a spot on the mattress at his side with her eyes grazing over his features. 

"Never," he confirmed, feeling his stomach stir at the feel of the heat of her body at his side. 

God was this really about to happen? 

"You're okay with me being the first?" Her voice suddenly had dropped a few octaves, a murmur in the air between them. 

He didn't have to think before he nodded. "I want you to be the first." 

Her eyes were bright, sparkling in the slat of light shining through her hair. "Right now?"

"Right now." 

She looked entirely too gorgeous to be normal when she smiled at him. "Just show me what you like, then. I'm all yours." 

His stiffening cock jumped at her words. She needed to stop talking like that if she didn't want him to embarrass himself. 

With that, (Y/N) wiggled her hand under his own on his abdomen, amusement in her eyes. Harry felt his breathing hitch at the simple touch. Just as soft as he thought. 

In an effort to preserve some semblance of his sanity, he closed his eyes before wrapping the length of his fingers around her hand. It was a moment, a full heartbeat pounding through his ears, before he pulsed his hand around hers in an affectionate squeeze and traced her hand down his middle. 

He could feel the tense of his muscles under his shirt, his legs spreading just that much wider. The ghost of her touch was a stark reminder that he never finished the job last night. 

Amongst his rumpled bed sheets, Harry couldn't be sure that this was even real life. Not that he spent any specific amount of time picturing what this first time would be like, but he could admit that he never really thought it would be like this. Not in sweatpants that had a stain from the eggs he had scrambled only twenty minutes prior. Not with his hand being the guiding force down to the waist of his bottoms. Not with (Y/N).

His cock stirred when their joined hands reached the elastic band of his sweatpants. Despite not even feeling her bare skin on his, goosebumps were raised. Was he going to embarrass himself by finishing within seconds? Harry had a feeling that was going to be the scenario at hand. 

(Y/N) wiggled her hand out from under his, hooking her fingers in the waist under her own volition. "You're still alright? With all of this?" 

"Yeah," Harry breathed out, his voice a hair above a whisper in hopes of disguising the tremor. 

"Okay," she said, looking up at him for a brief moment with a reassuring smile, "If you don't want to anymore, though, just let me know. We'll have breakfast and pretend nothing happened." 

His heartbeat sped up at her declaration. He knew he could trust her—with his body, with his delicate feelings, with his life, even. 

Harry didn't move his eyes from her even when she directed her attention to her hand. He watched her as she pushed his sweatpants down, the band falling just far enough down to hit the end of his boxer-briefs. His mouth fell open as he attempted to gain any insight into what she might be thinking, this being the first time he'd ever been this exposed to anyone before. Even with the layer of his underwear on, he'd never been in front of anyone in an undergarment like this. 

(Y/N) didn't give much away, only the cautious pace of her movements indicated the gravity of this moment. She skated her palm over the jut of his hip, easing him into the feel of her touch; he doubted she missed the way his cock jumped. His body reacted readily to each of her touches: goosebumps on his skin, bunched muscles in his abdomen, lungs squeezing in his chest, and the bruising hold of his teeth over his bottom lip. 

His hip was only the first step before she continued her path. She grazed the top of his thigh, nails denting into his skin in gentle pressures. His breath caught when she touched the lump of his cock, enough so that his chest shuddered. She lingered there, going so far as to give a slight squeeze, only causing him to harden more in her grip.

"I'm going to put my hand underneath, okay?" (Y/N) shared, voice quiet before he felt the first touch of her fingertips. 

"Okay," he answered involuntarily, tongue thick in his mouth. He was so gone for her in the moment, it was hard to think straight.

Harry lifted his hips to help her pull down his briefs, leaving them bunched at the mid of his thighs. His cock bobbed free, flushed and ruddy already. He doubted any other person in the world would have gained a reaction like this one. 

This time, he caught (Y/N)'s first real reaction. Her eyes widened, grazing over the length of him as she pulled her bottom lip between his teeth. She laid her hand on his abdomen for a beat, absently curling her fingers in the hem of his shirt she'd only pushed up and out of the way.  

Suddenly, she seemingly shook herself out of her head, looking up at Harry with a blink of her eyes. 

"Is it alright if I move a little?" she murmured, "I want to get more comfortable, if that's okay." 

She asked as if he had the power to deny her of anything, especially something so inconsequential. 

As soon as Harry nodded, she shifted at his side. Kicking the comforter off of her legs, she rolled to lay on her side next to him. He instinctively wrapped an arm underneath her, his palm landing just between her shoulder blades. The cuddling felt a little more inconsequential now that she had a hand traveling down his form, even if the feel of her chest pressed against him was enough to have his blood pumping faster. 

Now that she was settled, (Y/N) resumed her ministrations with both of their eyes trained on the movement of her hand. Harry swore it was just the fact that she was looking at him at all that had the blurt of precum seeping from his head, a pearl glistening in the morning light. 

"Just—um—if I do something you like, tell me and I'll try to keep doing it," she spoke distractedly, a slight rasp to her voice he hadn't anticipated in his fantasies. 

His mumble of okay was lost as soon as he saw her bring her hand to her mouth. He watched on as she dragged her tongue across her palm, slicking the skin before wrapping her fist around his base. 

"Oh, fuck," he let out, barely audible over the heavy sigh that carried out the words. He fought to keep his eyes open, spying the way (Y/N)'s features curled into a smile with her bottom lip trapped between her teeth. 

She did a precursory drag of her hand over his length, the pacing slow and aching. Harry could feel every crease and pillow of her palm. God, she was just as soft as he imagined. 

His chest shuddered as he watched her pretty nails sparkling in the light. The pink polish seemingly mimicked the flush of his head, glimmering and sparkling like the slick of her spit over his shaft. If that wasn't bad enough, seeing the fact that her fingers didn't even connect around the girth of him was going to kill him. Were her hands that small or was he bigger than he thought? 

As if hearing his thoughts, a mutter came from (Y/N), "You're so big, H. I had no idea." 

He wanted to say something (was it corny to say "thank you" to something like that?), instead only a rumbling groan came from his chest. The pillows under his head were the perfect cushions when he couldn't handle keeping it up anymore. He was already flushed and warm, muscles too tight for comfort, and stomach tightening into a burn. And she'd barely even started. 

Hearing his reaction was enough to spur her on, dragging her fist over and over his length. Periodically, she swiped her thumb over his crown, spreading the pearls of precum he let out. The slick passes of her hand rang out through his bedroom, competing with the puffs of his heavy breathing as the most erotic sound filtering through his bedroom. 

"Ti-Tighter," he choked out, his arm around her back holding her flush to his side. 

(Y/N) didn't respond, but he immediately felt the vice of her hand tighten that much more around his length. Another string of curses fell from his lips, his throat thick. 

"Is this good?" she asked, turning until she was looking up at him with wide eyes. Her pupils were dilated, darkening the hue of her irises. 

Harry wasn't able to think as he looked at her. She was his dream, the ultimate fantasy. Looking up at him with glossy eyes, her manicured hand squeezing around his cock. And for the first time, he noticed she was rubbing her thighs together as she took care of him. His free hand clutched the mess of his sheets; he wouldn't be surprised if he found holes in the fabric later. 

"So good," Harry breathed, the words broken on his tongue, "So, so good, (Y/N)." 

The smile she gave him was devastating.

Was she crazy? Was she trying to send him over the edge this quickly? He was starting to think so. 

"I was going to ask if you wanted it tighter, but I think we've found it," she teased, entirely too light-hearted for one of the most monumental moments of his life. 

"Y-Yeah," he answered, feeling delirious, "(Y/N), I-I'm close. 'M sorry." 

"Why are you sorry?" she asked, a pinch appearing between her brows, "This is about you, you don't have to be sorry. Cum whenever you want—as long as you feel good, I don't care." 

Her pace was unrelenting, the slap of her hand hitting his base mimicking the beat of his heart. 

"Fuck, (Y/N)," he muttered, voice strained, "Let me—I don't want to make a m-mess on you, I can grab—" 

She shushed him, shaking her head against his chest. "I can handle a little mess, H, it's okay. Stop thinking about me, this is about you." 

Stop thinking about me, as if that were ever an option for him. 

Still the sentiment stuck the same, especially her willingness to allow him to leave any kind of mark on her, including one so primitive. 

He spared a glance down at her. Her features were mostly hidden give the angle and the wisps of her hair in the way, but he could still see the flutter of her lashes as she watched herself getting him off, he could see the pinch of her nose and the gape of her lips. He could see her thighs squeezed tightly together, the shirts covering her modesty turning tight and especially short around her hips. 

God, this was (Y/N) on him. That was her pretty, soft hand on his length. That was her chest pressed to his ribs, only layers away from feeling the heavy beating of his heart. That was her wrapped up in the sheets holding his scent and so eagerly and happily fisting his cock. 

"Shit," he moaned, his voice rumbling and deep as he threw his head back, "(Y/N), 'm cumming, love." 

There was a void in the pit of his stomach that tightened and popped in that moment, unraveling him from the inside out. His balls tightened at his base just before the first rope off is cum spurted from his tip. The mess he'd worried about came to life then, white ribbons projecting as far up to the chest of his top, others dripping down his length and further wetting (Y/N)'s hand. 

Guileless moans echoed from his chest, filling the room as he came for the first time at the hand of another. His body urged him to close his eyes, the visuals before him being too much for his fragile psyche. But Harry fought the instinct. There was no way he was missing even a single frame of this; there was likely never going to be another time he had the privilege of laying with (Y/N) like this, he wasn't going to let anything get in the way. Including his eyelids. 

She didn't slow down as she helped him through the throes, her own breathing turning rough and off-kilter. Her toes curled in her socks, thighs pressed tightly together. 

Harry could have been up in the stratosphere for hours with the way he slumped against the bed exhausted by the time the final drop of his release slithered down his cock. (Y/N) slowed, though she kept going until the final aftershock left his spine and Harry had to pull her hand away before he burst into flames. 

His breathing came in heavy puffs, lips parted and swollen. He didn't need to see himself to know that his cheeks were cherry red with a nose to match, his curls pasted to his temples with sweat, and his eyes just a bit wild. 

Despite pushing her hand out of the way, (Y/N) didn't think before she laced their fingers together. Her touch was a bit sticky now, but there was no way Harry was going to complain. He kept his arm aprons her back tight, fingers denting the soft plane between her shoulder blades. 

He could have laid there for days, feeling the warmth of (Y/N)'s body and her soft hand in his. If not for the fact his cum had begun to dry and go cold. At the very least he needed to clean (Y/N) up—he doubted it was good bedroom etiquette to leave her to clean up after his mess. 

Forcing his eyes open, Harry blindly reached for the tissue box he kept on his bedside table (truthfully, it was for the hay fever he always seemed to have, but the sheets definitely had their convenient uses. Uses he would never admit to, of course). Reluctantly, he peeled (Y/N)'s hand out of his, wiping the streak of his cum marring her palm. 

A breathy giggle fell from her lips. 

"What?" he asked, his voice bubbled and cracked. 

"Nothing," she smiled, "You're just sweet." 

For some odd reason, he flushed harder than he should at something so mundane. 

"Thank you," he peeped, cleaning the stray strings that reached up to her wrist. 

As soon as (Y/N) was free from the traces of him, he took care of his own thighs and the streaks that hit his shirt. The pile of tissues he had to take to the trash made a little mountain on his bedside table by the time he had himself tucked away and sweatpants laying against his hips once more. 

"Um," he started, unsure of what to say after an experience like that. What even qualified as pillow talk, and how did one start it with someone that was just his roommate? "I'll be right back," he settled on, reaching for the mess of tissues, "'M going to cl—" 

"Harry." 

He didn't think before he looked at her. Her eyes were still full of dilated pupils with swollen lips, but the way she looked at him held more tenderness than he thought capable in a moment like this. 

"Stay with me for a second," she requested, her voice a soft coo. 

There wasn't a second thought to be had as he listened to her command. If he thought he was gone for her before, that was nothing compared to the endorphins coursing through him every time she looked at him in that moment. 

(Y/N) didn't wait before she was rolling to wrap him in a hug. It was a bit awkward, the way she had to stretch up to loop her arms around his neck and the way their legs tangled in the sheets. But it was more than worth it. 

Harry had always pictured himself to be the kind of guy that would want a cuddle after sex, but he never could have imagined just how vital this kind of contact would be after something so intense. Despite this being levels below the real act, Harry still clung to her. 

Every time his chest inflated with a whiff of her hair and sullied perfume, she deflated with a breath that fanned across his neck. Kicking free of the sheets, (Y/N) opted instead to curl her legs between his in a welcome tangle. Her warmth radiated through the material of her shirt, a soothing heat that brought him back down to earth. 

He didn't think before the words were being whispered into her hair: "Thank you." 

The smile on her face was audible when she spoke, "You're welcome, Harry." 

He couldn't help but squeeze her that much harder. "I'm sorry I can't offer anything in return," he admitted, a frown etching its way onto her lips, "I-I could try, I jus' don't think I'll be very good or—" 

She shushed him with a press of her lips to his cheek. It was an act that took his already fragile breathing out of pace once more. The tip of her nose grazed his skin, the plush of her lips hitting right where he knew his dimple to be when he smiled. 

"Stop talking," she laughed when she finally—regretfully—pulled away. "This was all about you, Harry. I'm just happy that you felt good, and trusted me enough to let me do this with you. That's all I need." 

He could only hug her harder. 

Harry would have laid there for hours, happily so, even when he could feel the strength returning to his muscles and the beat of his heart leveling out, but (Y/N) was the first to pull away. She pressed another soft kiss to his cheek before she untangled herself from him. 

Her eyes practically glimmered as she looked down at him. "You said there was breakfast downstairs, right?" 

That was enough to get a full laugh echoing from his chest, his lungs squeezing in the best way possible. 

He was never, ever going to be free of this crush on her. Not now. 

—————

pomegranates, an ancient roman wedding gift; the fruit hades offered to persephone to keep her in the underworld. with him.

ahhhhhhh thanl u sm for reading! so sorry for any mistakes, and if you have any fun ideas or anything please send them in!