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vanteguccir · 5 months ago

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ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤDRESS TO IMPRESS IN REAL LIFE * MATT STURNIOLO

SUMMARY　::　where Y/N, Matt's secret girlfriend, participates in the 'Dress to Impress in real life' video.

FEATURING　Matt Sturniolo x reader　REQUESTED?　yes.

WARNINGS　::　none.

AUTHOR'S NOTE　::　that is my work, I DON'T authorize any form of plagiarism; copy, "inspiration" or translation! | english isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

The triplets were buzzing with energy, their house a hive of activity as they set up for their newest video; Dress to Impress, real-life edition. Each round had its own theme, and the first one was Summer Vacation. Y/N had been roped into joining as a surprise guest, and secretly, Matt couldn't have been more thrilled.

The boys had already pulled out all the stops with their outfits. Chris sported a chaotic ensemble: a bucket hat with panels of clashing colors, lime green slides, and denim cargo shorts.

Matt was rocking a relaxed, dad-on-vacation vibe, complete with an oversized straw hat, patterned swim trunks, and a shirt that screamed, 'I don’t care, I’m on island time'.

Nick had gone full beach prep with a striped tank top, sunglasses that were almost too tiny for his face, and a retro cooler box tucked under his arm like an accessory.

As the camera rolled, Y/N was still getting ready in Matt’s bathroom, leaving the boy's to discuss who went better between the three of them.

"Alright." Chris said, pointing a finger at Nick’s cooler. "I’m just saying, if you don’t actually have anything in there, that’s a waste of a prop."

"It’s called committing to the bit, Chris." Nick shot back, adjusting the towel draped over his shoulder. "The cooler is the vibe."

Matt, who was adjusting his sunglasses, glanced toward the bathroom door, his face lighting up as if he could sense Y/N’s presence through the walls.

"Y/N better bring it. I know she’s got something amazing up her sleeve."

Nick rolled his eyes, looking at Matt with a boring expression.

"Why do I feel like you’re already planning to give her every win, no matter what she’s wearing?"

"Because I am." Matt replied bluntly, grinning like the lovesick puppy he was.

The door finally creaked open, and all three boys turned as Y/N emerged. She had nailed the summer vacation aesthetic, wearing a flowy, tropical-patterned sundress, bikini top below it, oversized black Prada sunglasses perched on her nose, and sandals that matched her outfit perfectly. She’d even added a straw beach bag for good measure.

"Okay, Y/N, I see you!" Chris exclaimed, clapping his hands together.

Y/N laughed, grinning widely before twirling to show off her look.

"Alright, that’s tough competition. You actually look like you're ready to spend the day at your beach house." Nick gave a low whistle, his blue eyes traveling from her face to her feet and back again. "But I'd say you're in fourth place. You're ready for the beach, not for any summer vacation."

"Fair." Y/N shrugged, take a quick peak at her outfit again before looking at Matt. "What do you think?"

Matt's eyes seemed to be shining like the whole cadence of stars, wandering through every detail of her choice of clothes.

"Are you kidding? That’s... that’s so good. You look like you stepped out of a summer vacation catalog or something." His voice sounded slightly high-pitched with excitement. "Nick's just jealous."

"What? No, I'm not!"

Chris rolled his eyes, already sensing where this was going.

"Oh, here we go."

"Like, if I saw you on the beach." Matt continued, ignoring his brothers entirely. "I’d probably just pass out. That’s how good you look."

"Okay, Matt." Nick said, holding up a hand. "We get it. Obsessive fucker."

The room filled with laughter, Y/N shaking her head but unable to hide the grin spreading across her face, her cheeks heating up.

"Right, first round? I'm second." Matt declared, gesturing toward himself. "Obviously, Y/N was first because, you know, she's Y/N." He gave her a little smile. "Then Nick was third, and Chris was fourth. That’s the average."

"Yeah, unfortunately." Nick muttered, throwing his hands up.

"Well." Chris turned dramatically to the camera and pointed. "They can vote."

Nick, not missing a beat, leaned closer to the camera, his voice dripping with mock confidence.

"Oh, I already know they’re gonna vote for me. Mine’s obviously the best. Unless..." He paused for dramatic effect, raising an eyebrow. "These girls wanna sleep with Matt and vote for him."

"What?!" Matt’s eyes widened in pure shock as he whipped his head toward the camera, looking utterly scandalized.

Y/N’s eyes flicked between Nick and Matt, her lips tightening slightly trying to suppress a laugh. It was impossible not to be amused by Nick’s antics.

She knew Nick wasn’t wrong, Matt’s popularity with their audience also had to do with his charm and, let’s face it, how good he looked on camera. There probably were plenty of girls who’d vote for Matt purely because of his looks, even if one of the other boys dressed better.

Nick continued without missing a beat.

"It’s the straight man advantage! You guys..." He gestured wildly at the camera. "Are gonna discriminate against me because I’m gay, and I don't like 'yall back."

At that, Y/N couldn’t help but burst into laughter, shaking her head.

Matt, still recovering from Nick’s bold accusation, raised a hand defensively.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold on a second." He looked straight into the camera with that intense, sincere gaze that Y/N loved. "Just for the record, I’m completely off-limits. Completely."

The way he said it, firm and definitive, sent a wave of confidence through Y/N. Her lips twitched into a small smile as she crossed her arms, clearing her throat to contain her reactions, trying to play it cool.

Nick, however, wasn’t done.

"Oh, yeah? You really think they care about that?" He teased, smirking as Matt shook his head in disbelief.

Chris rolled his eyes, still laughing.

"Nick, stop trying to guilt-trip them into voting for you."

"I'm not doing anything." Nick replied with a wink, sending the group into another fit of laughter.

"Now, bring the runway on, boys!"

The camera cut to Chris, who had appointed himself the first to strut down their makeshift runway that started from the stairs.

He walked in quick steps before stopping in the center of their camera lens, dramatically fanning himself with an imaginary hand fan.

"Where did you even get the idea of the imaginary fan?" Y/N teased, laughing with the others.

"Shh, it’s part of the vibe." Chris replied, flipping his bucket hat backward with flair. He strolled toward the camera with exaggerated confidence, striking a series of ridiculous poses. "Yeah, you’re welcome." He said as he walked off-camera, leaving the other three in stitches.

Nick went next, cooler in hand.

"Get ready to witness greatness." He said, lifting the retro cooler above his head like it was the Holy Grail, showing it off.

"You go, queen!" Y/N cheered, nodding her head while watching him.

Nick smiled brightly, placing it down carefully and reached for the towel draped over his shoulder, unfolding it with slow, deliberate movements. Too slow.

"This is taking forever." Matt groaned, crossing his arms.

"Nick, it’s been 30 seconds. Just lay the towel down!" Chris yelled.

Nick ignored them, carefully smoothing out the towel on the floor, his face the picture of focus. Once he was satisfied, he walked down the "runway", throwing some expressions to the camera before almost gluing his face to the lens, taking his glasses off.

"Iconic." Y/N said between laughs.

"Thank you, thank you." Nick replied, bowing before dramatically kicking the towel aside as if to signal the end of his performance, his right hand fanning himself as the last act.

Matt was up next.

"Alright, let me show you how it’s done." He said confidently. Grabbing his sunscreen, he opened the cap and squeezed a dollop onto his fingers, dabbing it on his cheeks like football player stripes.

"Well, you gotta stay protected, I guess." Y/N muttered, smiling with how Chris was rooting like crazy.

Laughter escaped her lips as Matt sauntered toward the camera, showing off the sunscreen like it was a designer handbag. He struck a confident pose, holding the product up, before walking back off the camera with an over-the-top smile.

Finally, it was Y/N’s turn.

"Your move, Y/N." Nick said, gesturing grandly toward the imaginary runway.

"Alright, alright, give me a second." She said, thinking fast.

She reached into her straw bag, pulling out the pair of oversized sunglasses that she had thrown there at some point, dramatically placing it on her face. Then, grabbing a small beach towel she had tucked inside the bag, she draped it over one arm like a sash.

"What’s happening here?" Matt asked, intrigued.

Y/N strolled onto the "runway" with slow, exaggerated movements like a madame arriving at a five-star resort. Halfway down, she pretended to feel the heat, pulling an actual bottle of water from her bag and taking a sip before fanning herself with her hand.

"It has to have the fan move!" Nick applauded, grinning to the scene before being interrupted by Chris’s comment.

"Of course, I created it."

At the end of the runway, Y/N stopped, tossed her sunglasses off dramatically at the ground, and struck a ridiculous pose with one hand on her hip and the other shielding her eyes as if she was shielding her face from the sun.

"That was solid!" Chris exclaimed, clapping.

Matt, meanwhile, was in awe, hands on his head.

"Are you kidding? That was really good. A thousand points. Game over. Y/N wins. Everyone go home."

Nick scoffed.

"Matt, stop simping for two seconds so we can keep this contest going."

"I’m not simping." Matt argued, clearly lying. "I'm just stating facts."

"Shut up, Matt."

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

For the Mix-Matched Madness theme, the camera panned to the boys standing in a line, proudly displaying their chaotic ensembles.

Chris was clad in a bright red varsity jacket over a striped shirt, camo pink shorts, and mismatched knee-high socks with chunky boots.

Matt decided for plaid shorts layered over one plaid pant leg, a pastel blue and yellow sweater vest, and a floppy dog-ear cap.

Nick went to a plaid jacket layered over a striped shirt with a perfectly coordinated tie, and matching sweatpants and sneakers.

"Guys, I’m clearly superior." Nick started, raising his eyebrows as he adjusted his glasses. "My outfit is actually intentional, look at this synergy! It screams fashion-forward."

Matt groaned, rolling his eyes and looking at Chris with a 'is he serious?' expression.

"Nick, you’re wearing matchy-matchy plaid in a mix-matched challenge. You’ve missed the assignment!"

"It’s ironic." Nick shot back, crossing his arms. "I’m doing intentional matching. If I were in a real runway right now, people would actually like my outfit."

Chris scratched his head, looking between them.

"Isn’t that kind of cheating, though?"

Before the debate could escalate further, Y/N stepped into the frame, causing all three boys to give her their attention.

Her outfit was next level: a bright purple sequined crop top paired with one lime green legging on her right leg and a fluffy, neon orange sock on the other. She wore a skirt made of layered, clashing floral patterns that didn’t quite match the fuzzy checkered cardigan she threw on top. To finish it off, her accessories included a leopard-print beanie - the one she stole from Matt's closet -, oversized sunglasses, and two entirely different shoes, a silver stiletto on one foot and a Croc on the other.

The boys gawked.

"Okay, now that’s mix-matched madness." Chris said, pointing at her.

"Girl, you look like you fell into a thrift store... and it worked." Nick added, looking both impressed and slightly annoyed.

"How can you still look so good while wearing... that?" Matt asked, pointing at her outfit with his hand while shaking his head in disbelief.

Y/N twirled dramatically, holding out her skirt as she grinned at the camera.

"Thank you, boys. I like to call this 'chaos with confidence'." She invented the random name, throwing a quick kiss to the lens.

Chris threw his hands up.

"Alright, I’m officially placing second now."

Nick groaned, shaking his head dramatically.

"No way. She’s great, but I’m still winning. Look at this tie!"

Matt laughed.

"Nick, your tie doesn’t save you from breaking the theme. You’re disqualified."

The scene cut to the "runway", where each of them showcased their chaotic outfits with an equally chaotic performance.

First up was Nick. He confidently strutted forward, reaching for the end of his tie. With exaggerated flair, he lifted it as if someone were pulling him forward, his face a picture of mock shock and drama, stumbling forward.

"Ey, keep going!" Chris hollered, nodding enthusiastically.

The moment he reached the end of the runway, he grinned mischievously, running his hand dramatically through his hair and tossing a sultry look at the camera before taking off his pink glasses.

"Work it, Nick!" Y/N chimed in, her laughter mixing with the chaos.

Nick turned on his heel with a laugh, sauntering back to the start and throwing a praying gesture, ignoring how Matt laughed, mockingly imitating his act.

Next, Matt stepped up, adjusting his floppy dog-ear cap before suddenly spinning it backward.

"Showtime." He muttered under his breath, earning immediate chuckles from the others. He walked to the camera with a cocky stride, crossing his arms and bending slightly to the side.

For the final move, he pivoted and moonwalked his way back to the start, nearly slipping on his mismatched shoes but recovering with a grin.

"Did you see that? Effortless." Matt declared, earning boos and laughs from the rest.

"You almost ate it, Matt." Y/N teased, shaking her head.

Chris stepped up next. And, of course, he brought drama.

"Hold my jacket." He said, then immediately shook his head. "Actually, no. The floor will."

With exaggerated aggression, he ripped off one of his red lobster gloves, throwing it to the ground with flair. The glove was followed by his belt, which he unbuckled and tossed with equal energy.

"Oh my God." Y/N looked at the camera with wide eyes.

"What is happening?" Nick cackled, practically doubling over, slapping Y/N's arm.

Chris wasn’t done. He walked up to the camera with an intense expression, holding his hands out and touching the screen, acting as if zooming in.

"Enhance." He said, squinting into the lens. Then, as if the camera wasn’t worthy, he spun dramatically on his heel, walked back, and threw off his varsity jacket mid-stride before striking one final pose.

"Now that’s how you do it." Y/N joked, looking at the camera. "Like and subscribe if you want Chris to make a strip tea-"

"Y/N!"

For Y/N's turn, she adjusted her oversized leopard beanie with a dramatic flair and tilted her sunglasses low on her nose, revealing a dead-serious expression underneath. She strutted forward slowly, dragging her stiletto along the ground for added effect. When she reached the camera, she whipped her head to the side, making her orange fluffy sock the star of the moment.

But it didn’t end there. Y/N suddenly crouched down into a deep squat, raising one hand in the air and striking a pose like she was ready to pounce. The boys immediately broke into cheers and laughter.

"Yes, queen!" Nick shouted, jumping in the place and clapping, laughing loudly.

"She nailed it." Matt said with a proud grin, nodding his head.

Y/N slowly stood, turning to the side as if the camera had disappeared, and walked off like nothing had happened.

"Thank you." She said nonchalantly, tossing her hair over her shoulder as the others applauded.

"Alright, I officially retire." Nick said, throwing his arms to the air in a surrender gesture.

"Same." Chris picked up his lobster glove from the floor, grinning.

Matt sighed, smiling at Y/N's figure.

"She’s unbeatable. Let’s not do these challenges anymore if she’s in them."

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

The scene cut to the next category: Rock Concert. The boys had gathered in front of the camera, each flaunting their edgy outfits.

Chris leaned casually against the wall, dressed in all black with his bandana tied around his head. His sunglasses were perfectly placed, and a Bluetooth speaker hung over his shoulder like a statement piece.

"Clearly, I’m the embodiment of rock concert aesthetic." He said confidently, adjusting his speaker strap.

Nick crossed his arms, giving Chris a side-eye. He was sporting his long-sleeved shirt adorned with skulls and intricate spiderweb patterns paired with black cargo pants and chunky boots.

"Please." Nick retorted. "I’ve got literal death on my shirt. That’s as metal as it gets."

Matt, standing in the middle, smirked. He wore a black leather jacket over a white shirt, complete with a silver skull belt buckle and leather pants that practically screamed rockstar.

"Yeah, but have you seen my belt?" He argued, lifting his white shirt slightly to show it off. "This is peak rock concert material. I even coordinated it with my jacket."

"Okay, but who do you think the crowd would look at first?" Chris challenged. "The guy with the bandana, all black, and sunglasses? Obviously me. The speaker only makes it better."

Nick rolled his eyes.

"You look like you’re trying to be a cool dad sneaking into a concert." He teased.

"Alright, alright." Y/N interrupted from off-screen, stepping into the camera frame and effectively stealing the show.

Y/N’s outfit was on another level. She wore a black 'Bon Jovi' cropped top with silver detailing that matched the chains on her leather mini skirt. Fishnet tights peeked out from under the skirt, leading down to a pair of knee-high combat boots that added an extra edge to the look. To top it off, she wore a cropped leather jacket with studs on the shoulders and accessorized with chunky silver jewelry and a black choker.

The boys fell silent for a second, staring.

Y/N smiled brightly at them before turning to the camera, raising her right arm and making the 'rock and roll' gesture by raising her pinky and index fingers and lowering the others.

"'Cause we all just wanna be big rockstars and live in hilltop houses driving 15 cars..."

"Girl, what the fuck?" Nick widened his eyes, looking from Y/N to the camera with a look that screamed 'are you guys seeing this?'

Matt laughed loudly, recognizing the song from one of the TikTok trends that Y/N had been obsessing over the past few weeks, being quick in imitating her position, and starting singing with her.

"... the girls come easy and the drugs come cheap, we'll all stay skinny 'cause we just won't eat-"

"Okay, that's enough of that." Chris interrupted the pair, gesturing to them while shaking his head in disbelief. "So, Y/N wins."

Nick groaned dramatically.

"Let's take her out right now. I don't wanna play with her anymore."

Matt couldn’t stop smiling.

"Can we just talk about how she’s nailing this? Like, can we get her to join the band we don’t have?"

Y/N laughed, giving a mock bow.

"Thank you, thank you. Now, let's just be clear, I already won." Y/N said with a sly grin, stepping forward. "You'll all lose time if you keep discussing who's the best between you three."

"How can you be so sure?" Chris crossed his arms, carrying a superior instance.

"Because I actually listen to rock." She said, shrugging like it was obvious. "AC/DC, Bon Jovi, Kansas, Asia... should I keep going?"

Nick groaned.

"Okay, that’s true, but it doesn’t count!"

"Doesn’t count?" Y/N repeated, feigning offense. "I think you’ll find that the fact I actually know rock makes me the winner by default." She turned to Chris. "Tell me. Have 'yall even listened to ‘Highway to Hell’ all the way through?"

Chris hesitated, playing with his earphones.

"Uh... I mean." He looked at Nick. "Probably?"

Y/N laughed, shaking her head.

"Thought so." She crossed her arms. "So, I don’t need a skull belt, all-black everything, or death on my chest. I’ve got the actual music taste. Rock is in my veins, boys."

Nick groaned dramatically, throwing his head back.

"She wins. I hate it, but she wins."

"Alright, fine." Chris muttered. "But we still look better."

"Not a chance." Y/N teased, spinning in place again and winking at the camera. "This outfit screams rock goddess."

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

The boys were now proudly sporting their "Zoom Meeting" outfits. Chris held up his MacBook, Matt adjusted his glasses with a goofy smile, and Nick tugged at his black tie, looking down at his bright heart-shaped boxer shorts with fake professionalism.

"Alright." Chris started, addressing the imaginary Zoom meeting in front of him. "Gentlemen, let’s get to business. As you can see, we’re all clearly dressed to impress."

"Except for Nick." Matt teased, nodding toward his brother's boxer shorts. "The hearts? A little too much, don’t you think?"

Nick scoffed, feigning offense.

"Excuse me, at least I have this tie that says I’m both professional and emotionally available. A winning combo."

Matt rolled his eyes and gestured to his own look.

"Meanwhile, I’ve got balance. Business on top, relaxation on the bottom."

"That’s literally the whole theme." Chris pointed out with a smirk. "You’re not special, Matt."

Y/N watched from her spot leaning against Matt's bathroom door, her legs crossed as she sipped from her mug of coffee that she made while waiting for them to get ready. She was dressed comfortably yet stylishly, rocking an oversized beige knit sweater that draped perfectly off one shoulder, paired with black leggings and fluffy white socks. Her hair was tied up in a loose bun, with a few strands framing her face. Despite the boys' chaotic energy, she was nailing the whole "effortlessly cool" vibe.

"Y/N, you’re way too cozy for a Zoom meeting." Chris said, pointing at her as he adjusted his loose white shirt.

"Well." Y/N said with a playful grin. "Unlike you guys, I know how to mix comfy with class. You all just look ridiculous."

Nick gasped, dramatically clutching the box in his hands.

"Ridiculous? Ridiculous?! Look at this tie! I’m the epitome of professionalism!"

Chris leaned toward Y/N, pointing at Matt.

"What about him? He’s literally in boxer shorts."

Y/N rolled her eyes, sipping from her mug to hide her smile.

"You're all wearing it, dumbass." Her eyes lingered on Matt's red boxer shorts for a moment too long. "It’s really interesting that someone would think boxer shorts are appropriate for a Zoom meeting, actually."

Matt smirked, striking a random pose.

"Are you jealous?"

"No?" She said quickly, shaking her head. "I mean, it’s not like anyone else on the Zoom would see them, right?"

The other two brothers caught on instantly, grinning like Cheshire cats.

"Y/N." Nick teased. "Are you saying you wouldn’t let your Zoom co-workers see your boxers?"

"Nick!" She exclaimed, throwing an exasperated look at him. "That’s not the point!"

Chris chimed in, laughing.

"Yeah, Matt. She’s definitely jealous. She wishes she could wear boxers to a meeting."

"I do not!" Y/N huffed, crossing her arms, though a smile tugged at her lips. "I just... don’t understand why he’d even bother wearing the shirt if he’s just going to go full casual anyway."

"It’s called commitment to the aesthetic." Matt said, walking over to her and placing a hand on her shoulder, discretely squeezing the exposed skin. "Something you clearly wouldn’t understand."

"Oh, I understand commitment." Y/N shot back with a smirk, meeting his eyes momentarily. "But let’s be honest, none of you are winning any awards for those outfits."

"Excuse me?" Nick said, pretending to be outraged. "I’m clearly the winner here."

"Winner?" Chris scoffed. "You’re wearing socks pulled up to your knees, bro. That’s not even close to a win."

Y/N chuckled as she watched them descend into a full argument over who had the best Zoom look, but she couldn’t stop her gaze from flickering back to Matt’s outfit. Something about the casual confidence he exuded - boxers and glasses - had her feeling just a little possessive and turned on.

"Alright." She announced, clapping her hands to get their attention. "If you’re all done arguing, let’s see who can really sell their look with a runway walk."

The boys' faces lit up, and they quickly got into character.

Nick was up first, confidently sliding across the wooden floor in his socks, arms spread wide like a figure skater. As he came to a stop, he reached for his boxer shorts and dramatically lowered them until they hit the ground, shouting a little "Oh!".

Matt immediately yelped.

"Nick!" He yelled before lunging forward to cover Y/N's eyes with both hands.

"Matt! What are you doing?!" Y/N laughed, trying to swat his hands away while Chris doubled over in hysterics.

"Protecting your innocence!" Matt declared, keeping his hands firmly over her face.

Nick, unfazed, quickly pulled his boxers back up and began walking toward the camera with exaggerated confidence, tugging at his tie and making ridiculous faces as though he were a real model.

"You’re unbelievable!" Chris murmured through his laughter, wiping a tear from his eye.

"Well, we've got 2 strippers now-"

"Y/N!"

Nick turned dramatically to face her and winked.

"You’re welcome for the show."

Next, it was Matt’s turn. He walked to the middle of the floor, cracking his knuckles with a sly grin before suddenly dropping to his hands and knees.

"Uh, Matt?" Y/N asked, raising an eyebrow.

"What...?" Nick added, genuinely confused.

Then, without warning, Matt lifted his left leg to the side like a dog at a fire hydrant.

The realization hit everyone at once, recognizing the movement from one of the rounds of DTI that Matt and Chris played, and the room erupted into cheers and laughter.

"That was perfect!" Chris shouted, clapping his hands.

Matt stood up, brushing imaginary dirt off his shirt with a smirk, and walked toward the camera with crossed arms, striking a serious pose like a model in a high-fashion commercial.

"Okay, that was actually cool." Y/N admitted, giggling as he walked back to join them.

When it was Chris’s turn, he shook his head with a grin.

"I’m sitting this one out." He said.

"What? Why?" Nick asked, incredulous.

Chris shrugged.

"I’m already the main event. I’ll let Y/N steal the spotlight this time."

Y/N’s eyebrows shot up.

"Oh, so now I have to go?"

"You got this!" Matt encouraged, nudging her toward the runway.

"Fine." She said, standing up and straightening her oversized sweater dramatically.

Y/N walked off the camera and took the book she'd been reading the past few days from the coffee table, walking back to the frame before delicately putting it on her head like a balancing act. She strutted confidently toward the camera, balancing it all the way, then stopped to pull out her mug, striking a victorious pose before taking a slow, exaggerated sip. The boys erupted in applause.

"You can call me Barbie now." She started, turning to the boys while opening a wide smile before pretending that her hand was a microphone. "On top of the world where I can see everything before me reaching up to touch the sky-"

"Okay, singer girl, pipe down a bit." Nick raised his right hand, exchanging perplexed looks with Chris, who was laughing.

"Okay, she wins." The youngest admitted, shrugging in defeat.

"Unreal." Matt said, looking at her with obvious pride. "You’re way too good at this, Y/N."

"Okay, okay, she wins. No one can top that." Nick nodded at Y/N. "But I think Chris gets second place in this one."

"No, I give you number one." Chris insisted, pointing to Nick while Matt just observed.

"I can't accept that. I'm just happy Matt's wearing his blue light glasses again." Nick's voice turned dramatically high-pitched, clearly imitating the fandom.

Before anyone could react to him, Matt ripped his glasses off of his face, bending it backward until it snapped, small pieces flying everywhere.

"Matt, why would you do that?" Y/N yelled, looking at him with wide eyes and open mouth - just like the other two - before pouting, looking miserably at the shattered pieces. "I liked that one."

"I don't like those stupid jokes." Matt simply replied, looking unfazed at his brothers and Y/N.

Nick and Chris kept looking from Matt to the camera and back, their expressions full of shock.

"You're going to buy another one just like that one, I don't even care." Y/N ordered, crossing her arms and looking directly at Matt, raising her eyebrows as if to say 'dare disobey me.

"Fine." He sighed. "Sorry."

extra - comments:

"okay but can we talk about matt literally saying ‘I’m off limits’? someone tell me what’s going on here 🤡"

"nick casually calling out matt girls for voting on matt only bc they want to sleep with him had me SCREAMING 😭"

"why was Y/N blushing when matt said he was off limits? I SEE YOU, GIRL!!!!"

"the dynamic between Y/N and matt is giving major dating vibes"

"wait, why does matt always seem to hype Y/N up just a little more than chris and nick? like, we get it, dude. she’s awesome. but tone it down, or we’ll all start connecting dots 🤨"

"as a fellow rock fan, I have to say Y/N listening to AC/DC and bon jovi automatically makes her my fave"

"not Y/N convincing matt with zero effort to do the rockstar trend with her 🤧"

"I’m not saying I ship Y/N and matt... but I also kind of ship Y/N and matt. the way he looked at her with that dress??? man, I know that look"

"matt breaking his glasses and then Y/N ordering him to buy another one and him ACCEPTING IT???? and saying sorry???? omg that's just girl boss right there 🙏🏻"

1K notes · View notes

heesimp · 4 months ago

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hold on ur toxic hoon hooking up with yn thought...you might be onto smth...

here u go babes

warnings: infidelity, creampie, toxic sunghoon.

he’s with his girlfriend out of obligation, most likely. his family knows hers and they’ve grown up together but never ran in the same circles because they didn’t have similar interests or mutual friends. sunghoon’s wealthy and his parents are influential, so it’s imperetant that the eldest son sets and example and follow the rules.

so he starts dating this girl but he isn’t completely happy about it. he tries to be and pretends he’s excited to go on dates, but he’s rather be spending time with you watching movies he cares nothing for but endures it because you love it. you, his best friend since elementary school, were the first person to make sunghoon feel like he could be himself.

his betrothed has never been your biggest fan and always thinks of you like an obstacle, often vocalizing her displeasure with your role in her boyfriend’s life or that you’re in it at all. she swears she’s loved him since the two of them were children but you knew better, and his girlfriend’s bratty attitude looked a bit hilarious to everyone who saw.

sunghoon’s girlfriend notices the lack of sex at the beginning of their relationship and at first, he never took her up for it because he was too angry at the forced relationship. but free pussy is free pussy, and it wasn’t like he could hit up his flings anymore. he fucks her but there’s no passion to it. he doesnt care if she comes first or not, nor does he care if she even orgasms at all. she’s never disappointed by that, though. she really loves sunghoon because he’s the hottest guy in her friend group and even if she doesn’t cum, his dick is so big that she could edge herself until he finally does let her cum.

one day, sunghoon comes home and says nothing as he grabs his girlfriend and shoves her body on the mattress with her ass in the air and pussy on display after he pushes her shorts down. he preps her just enough until she’s wet and ready to take his cock down her hole. sunghoon fucks and fucks his girlfriend without abandon until she’s moaning underneath him like she’s in a pornographic film. she doesn’t know what’s gotten into him but she’s not complaining. he’s never been so passionate with her before.

but of course, sunghoon was thinking of you this entire time and the way your tits bounce in your bikini or the shape of your ass in your favorite dress. he thinks of your lips and what it must feel like to taste you for the first time. sunghoon pictures what you look like naked underneath him, with your breasts moving every time he pounds his cock inside of you. would it sound the way it does now? how his balls smack the shit out of her folds until it echoes across the room? would your pussy be creaming like his girlfriend’s is, coating his warm balls in cum?every time he gets overwhelmed by you or so horny that he can’t function, sunghoon fucks his girlfriend pretending it’s you.

that is, he does until he doesn’t.

sunghoon’s the one who makes the first move towards you and one kiss was all it took for the two of you to fuck for a few hours. he pours all of his love for you with the thrust of his hips in lieu of being able to vocalize it. he thinks you must know, because you let him cum inside of you as much as he wants without complaining. you make his cock so white and creamy, that squishing sound coating himself naturally.

he stops fucking his girlfriend now that he’s got you.

#this was way longer than I intended it to be omg?#enhypen smut #enha smut #sunghoon smut #enha hard thoughts #enhypen hard thoughts #sunghoon

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luxbub · 1 year ago

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brother’s best friend!rafe cameron nsfw

minors DNI +18

reader is +18

brother’s best friend!rafe who came to your brother’s pool party naively thinking that you wouldn’t be there

brother’s best friend!rafe who’s eyes widened when he saw you sitting on the lounger in your small bikini and big sunglasses, waving at him, all clueless to the eyes ogling you

brother’s best friend!rafe who could feel his cock starting to harden just by the little prep in your step as you walked up to him

brother’s best friend!rafe who was sure that you could definitely feel his hard on when you pressed your bikini clad body to his

brother’s best friend!rafe who felt his mouth dry when you pulled back, his hands instantly falling to your hips as you told him how much you missed him

brother’s best friend!rafe who could only look at you and your smile as he told you that he almost didn’t recognise you

brother’s best friend!rafe who squeezed your hips when you told him that you’re “all grown up now” with your pouty lips and fluttering eyelashes

brother’s best friend!rafe who was quick to come with you to your room when you asked him “to catch up”

brother’s best friend!rafe who pushed your bikini aside and immediately got to work

brother’s best friend!rafe who’s tongue felt so good and spoke words so good that you squirted as he pushed his tongue into your tight little hole

brother’s best friend!rafe who pounded into you so hard afterwards that you couldn’t walk straight on your way back to the party

brother’s best friend!rafe who walked out of your room with smirk but froze when he met topper’s glare

4K notes · View notes

sunshinesfreckless · 4 days ago

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Beach Hazard

───୨ৎ────────୨ৎ───────୨ৎ───

Pairing: Lifeguard!Felix x Fem!Reader

Summary: Visiting your cousin in Australia for the first time without being prepared for the heat was one thing — but her not warning you about the real heat at the beach was another.

Warnings: Smut MDNI, Hot lifeguards

A/N: The reader does not have a specific skin color, ethnicity, or body type. The picture I chose from Pinterest is just to help visualize one of the bikinis better!

───୨ৎ────────୨ৎ───────୨ৎ───

The sun was merciless. It clung to Y/N’s skin, wrapped around her like a second layer, and turned every breath into a sigh of defeat. She fanned herself with a limp hand, already regretting everything.

“You never told me Australia was this hot,” she groaned, dragging her sandals through the burning sand.

Yeji, unfazed and radiant as always, only shrugged. “I thought it was kinda obvious, you know?”

They finally reached the beach—a postcard come to life. Crystalline waves kissed the shore, sunlight danced off every surface, and bronzed bodies glistened like they’d been sculpted for worship. Y/N squinted through the brightness, adjusting to the sheer number of abs per square meter.

She dropped her towel, barely finding the will to sit down before Yeji nudged her hard in the ribs.

“Just so you know,” Yeji whispered, eyes twinkling behind her sunglasses. “A little tourist highlight here… are our lifeguards.”

Y/N raised a skeptical eyebrow. “You can’t be serious. Baywatch-type lifeguards don’t actually exist—”

A sharp whistle sliced through the air, and then… slow motion.

The first one bolted down the beach like it was a fashion runway. Long, black hair whipped behind him, his expression carved with intense focus. His frame was lean, but corded with elegant muscle, the kind that made you forget how to breathe. His lips—full, plush, kissable—pouted naturally, and his shoulder-to-waist ratio defied logic. He sprinted toward a jet ski like a Greek god late for Olympus.

“That’s Hyunjin,” Yeji murmured, voice reverent.

On the jet ski, a man sat waiting, stoic like a painting in motion. His thighs alone could crush watermelons, tanned and glistening as the sun traced every line of definition. His gaze was sharp as steel as he nodded at Hyunjin.

“That’s Lee Know.”

A third lifeguard joined them, tossing a life vest with a lazy flick of the wrist. His tattoos were etched into golden skin, glinting under the sunlight. His Muscles…. eye candy.

“Han,” Yeji added, grinning.

Behind him, another man held up a pair of binoculars, but his forearms stole the show. Veins, muscle, pure buffness.

“That’s Changbin.”

Two more figures were prepping a small rescue boat. One had a smile like a slice of mischief—Jeongin. Playful eyes, sun-streaked hair, and that lean, boyish physique.

Beside him, Seungmin—cool, calm. His jawline could’ve cut diamonds, Understated beauty, the kind that lingered.

And then—

Yeji inhaled. “My personal favorite… Mr. Bang.”

Bang Chan strode behind them all like he owned the beach. His back—broad, powerful, unfair—was on full display as he adjusted a rescue board under one arm. He was all tan, sinew, and control. The leader energy radiated.

Y/N tried to swallow, but her throat was dry. “You’ve gotta be kidding me—”

And then… he appeared.

From the ocean itself. A mirage made real.

He walked out of the water like a dream crashing into reality. Golden skin wet and glistening, every curve of his abs carved by the gods. Water rolled down his torso, catching on the sharp lines of muscle, and Y/N actually forgot what she was saying. He ran one hand through his soaked blonde hair, pushing it back to reveal pretty brown-eyes that accidentally locked with hers.

Time paused. Her lungs gave up.

His lips parted slightly, breath catching—and hers did too.

“Jesus,” Y/N whispered. “Who is that?”

Yeji smirked. “Felix.”

Y/N could only blink. Hello Felix…

Never in her life had Y/N felt so painfully, violently unfucked. It hit her like a freight train the moment he emerged from the water, all abs and attitude, and it hadn’t let up since. Her thighs clenched instinctively.

Holy. Shit.

“It’s nothing serious!” Changbin yelled toward the jet ski, giving a thumbs-up as Lee Know veered off with that stone-faced drama only he could pull off.

Hyunjin jogged over, hair flying behind him like he was in a shampoo commercial. “Did you see what’s up?”

“A woman thought she saw a shark,” Felix murmured, voice low and rough. “False alarm.”

His gaze drifted lazily back to the woman in a tiny white bikini, the kind that looked like it would disintegrate if the wind picked up. His eyes lingered—just for a second—then flicked back toward his friends.

“Mate, we’re still on duty,” Chan said, clapping him on the shoulder like a disappointed dad.

Felix just gave a low, cheeky laugh—the kind that made Y/N’s stomach flip. “I’m on watch.”

He grabbed the whistle Chan held out, slipping it around his neck with lazy precision. Then came the sunglasses.

“I know you’re on watch. I’m your boss,” Chan muttered. “But I literally just caught you ogling a girl.”

Felix raised one perfect brow and waved it off, already turning to patrol the beach like he owned the damn coastline.

Y/N’s jaw dropped. She wasn’t breathing. She couldn’t breathe.

“He literally just looked at me,” she gasped, gripping Yeji’s arm like a woman in spiritual distress.

“Felix?” Yeji asked, amused.

“Mhm.”

“Sure, sweetie,” Yeji snorted, clearly unconvinced.

Y/N turned her head slowly, eyes tracking Felix like he was prey and she was starving. “No, I need to have him.”

Yeji burst into laughter. “Good luck. All of them are fellow students in my class at my college, and I’ve been trying to get into Chan’s pants since high school.”

“Any luck?”

“Not even a crumb.”

Y/N narrowed her eyes, watching Felix’s golden skin disappear into the distance, his shoulders flexing with every step. Her voice dropped to a whisper.

“I’m going to make that man sin.”

The plan formed fast. Reckless. Beautiful. Stupid.

Y/N sat up, adjusting her bikini top like she was about to enter battle.

“No,” Yeji hissed. “Don’t even think about it.”

“I have to,” Y/N whispered. “He’s walking away, Yeji. Away from my life. My future. My Body. My womb.”

“You’re insane.”

“I’m in heat.”

Yeji groaned and dragged her sunglasses down. “Please tell me you’re not about to fake a drowning.”

“Not drowning. Just… distress. Sexy distress.”

“Oh my God. Y/N, no—”

But she was already walking—no, striding—toward the shore, her hair catching the breeze. She reached the shallows, flipped her head dramatically, and waded in.

Step. Step. Gasp.

She stumbled, flailing her arms like she was being attacked by invisible seaweed. “Ah! Oh no—help! Help me! I—I think I twisted my ankle in the water!”

Yeji slapped her own face. “Jesus Christ.”

A whistle shrieked.

Y/N turned in slow motion, ready to fall into the arms of her dripping wet, Australian savior.

But it wasn’t Felix.

It was Hyunjin.

Her smile faded.

Hair flying (WHY WAS HIS HAIR ALWAYS FLYING), eyes full of panic and beauty, he wrapped his arms around her effortlessly and lifted her like she weighed nothing. “You’re okay. I’ve got you,” he said, voice low and soft.

And sure, it was nice. Sure, he was an Adonis. But he wasn’t Felix.

She let him carry her all the way to the towels, fully committed to the bit, but as soon as her feet touched the sand, she peeled away like an annoyed cat.

“Thanks,” she said stiffly, and stormed back to her towel.

Yeji stared at her like she’d lost her mind. “What? Hyunjin isn’t enough for your greed?”

Y/N dropped onto the towel and grabbed her water bottle like it was a flask. “Believe me,” she muttered. “I was this close to showing Hyunjin my tits.”

She sighed.

“But I’m going to stay loyal to Felix.”

────୨ৎ────

She “accidentally” kicks her water bottle too far and jogs after it like a distressed deer.

Cue: Seungmin.

Polite. Kind. Hot in an infuriatingly nonchalant way.

He jogs over, picks up the bottle, and hands it to her with a smile so charming it could be a toothpaste ad.

“You dropped this.”

Y/N forces a smile. “Thank you… so much.”

Yeji just snorts behind her towel. “So loyal, huh?”

────୨ৎ────

She pretends to get stung by a jellyfish. “Ow! My leg—oh no—what if it’s venomous?!”

Jeongin appears, pulling off his shirt with impressive speed.

“Where is it? I’ll check for swelling—do you need me to pee on it?”

“What? NO! God, no! I’m fine—I’m fine now.”

Jeongin tilts his head. “You sure? I’ve been trained for this.”

“I don‘t want YOUR pee,” Y/N mutters under her breath and limps away, emotionally wounded.

Yeji looked at her disgusted and shocked.

────୨ৎ────

She fake-coughs dramatically, clutching her throat like she’s choking on saltwater air.

This time it’s Changbin. Concerned. Sincere.

“Do you need CPR?!”

Y/N widens her eyes. “N-no…?”

He gets closer. “Are you sure? You don’t look okay.”

She looks up at the sky, whispering, “Why do you mock me, God?”

────୨ৎ────

She splashes herself with water and flops down like she fainted.

Bang Chan runs up with a literal first-aid kit and more authority than a SWAT team.

“I need you to stay still, okay? Can you hear me?”

Y/N stares up at him. “You’re… not Felix.”

Chan blinks. “Um. No?”

She sighs. “Then leave me here. Let the sun take me.”

Yeji cackles so hard she nearly chokes on her mango smoothie. “You’re an embarrassment to this family.”

────୨ৎ────

Y/N glares at the sea, where Felix is, of course, walking along the waterline, shirt off, towel over his shoulder, hair wet and golden like he just stepped out of a wet dream.

She slams her fists into the towel. “WHY does God keep sending other hot lifeguards?! I don’t want the entire calendar, I want SEPTEMBER !”

────୨ৎ────

The next morning, Y/N burst into Yeji’s room like a woman on a mission.

“Get your towel. We’re going back.”

Yeji groaned from under the blanket. “I am not emotionally strong enough to watch you throw yourself at lifeguards again.”

Y/N clasped her hands like she was begging for water in a desert. “Please. I just need one more chance.”

“…You said that yesterday.”

“And I meant it then. But today I’m serious.”

Ten minutes later, Yeji was dragging her cooler through the sand, watching Y/N strut ahead in a bikini so small it could be mistaken for shoelaces. Leopard print. Glossy lips. Hair beachy and bouncy. A menace.

And there he was.

Felix.

Standing near the lifeguard tower, talking to Seungmin while tying his hair up. The muscles in his arms flexed as he looped the elastic around his damp blond strands, biceps and shoulders glistening in the sun like someone had Photoshopped reality.

Y/N stopped walking. “That’s it. This is the day I make him fall.”

“Or call security,” Yeji muttered, finding them a shady spot.

────୨ৎ────

She walks past the lifeguard stand, slow and deliberate. She bends to pretend to fix her flip-flop. Her butt is absolutely facing him.

Nothing. No reaction.

She peeks.

He’s looking at a seagull.

“You’re watching a bird?” she seethes.

Yeji sips her iced latte, unbothered from afar. “Damn, even the bird’s getting more attention.”

────୨ৎ────

She pretends to drop sunscreen and bends very slowly to pick it up. She even lets out a small gasp. Like it’s so hard to pick something up off the sand.

Felix jogs past her—past her—shouting something into his walkie-talkie.

“He didn’t even see me!” she hisses.

“He’s literally working,” Yeji deadpans.

────୨ৎ────

She finally gathers the courage to walk up to the tower. Felix is leaning on the rail, looking like an ocean god sent to torment her.

“Hi,” she says, as seductively as possible.

“Hey,” he says, smiling—but friendly. Polite. Professional.

She freezes. “I… like your whistle.”

Your whistle? Your WHISTLE?

“Thanks,” he chuckles, then leans over the edge. “Hey, Seungmin! Can you cover my post for five? I’m gonna refill my water bottle.”

YES! A window!

But before she can say anything else, he hops down and jogs right past her.

Y/N turns to Yeji, who is visibly crying from behind her sunglasses.

“I’m going to die alone.”

“No, you’re just going to die of dehydration from how hard you’re thirsting.”

Y/N flops onto her towel in defeat. “This is the worst vacation of my life.”

Just as she’s about to bury herself in sand out of shame, Felix calls out behind her, towel slung over his shoulder, voice teasing:

“Leopard print, huh? Bold.”

She jerks upright. “What?!”

He’s already walking away again. But this time, he smirks.

She turns to Yeji, completely unhinged. “Did you see that? That was flirting.”

“Or basic human interaction.”

“I am winning.”

────୨ৎ────

But the Euphoria didn’t last long……the rest of the day, Y/N gave up.

No sultry poses. No hair flips. No fake injuries.

She was just… tanning. Peacefully. Like a normal, non-horny person.

Face down, book open, towel beneath her. Her hair tied, sunglasses on, headphones in. She barely even looked in Felix’s direction.

Which apparently meant everyone else did.

“Who’s that?” Han asked, squinting through his sunglasses as he handed out ice pops from the cooler.

Seungmin tilted his head. “That’s Yeji’s cousin, Y/N. She’s been here two days in a row. Yesterday she tried to drown herself like three times.”

Jeongin laughed. “You mean the fake fainting girl.”

Felix frowned, not even sure why. “Why are you all looking over there?”

Han grinned, obnoxiously. “Because she looks hot.”

Felix scoffed. “She’s just reading.”

“Exactly,” Han said, chewing on his popsicle. “Effortless hot. That’s rare.”

Felix followed their gazes—casually, of course. And yeah. Okay. Maybe she did look a little too good just lying there in the sun, legs glistening, hips arched slightly, bikini flattering her every curve. She wasn’t looking at them.

Not looking at him.

He looked away, annoyed for no reason. “Focus. You’re on duty.”

But the rest of the afternoon, his eyes kept drifting. Especially when some random guys walked by a little too slowly. He tensed every time they looked at her twice. When one guy tripped trying to check her out, Felix nearly stood up.

He didn’t, though.

Didn’t matter.

Not his problem.

────୨ৎ────

Y/N came alone this time.

No Yeji. No plan. Just her book, her floral bikini, and a promise to herself to act normal.

She found her same spot, laid out her towel, and sank into the sun. She didn’t look around. She didn’t need to.

But she did feel it—the prickling sensation of being watched.

Felix was on his post, up in the tower. Sunglasses on. Elbows on the rail.

Watching.

Not obviously.

Just enough.

She smiled to herself but didn’t look up.

A few hours later, the sun was high, and she decided to take a quick dip. She set her book down, tied her hair up, and stepped into the water, sighing at the coolness against her skin.

She was waist-deep when two boys—maybe sixteen, seventeen—started splashing nearby.

They were giggling. Whispering. Then.

Snap.

She felt the back of her bikini top loosen.

“What the—?!”

She turned just as one of the boys tossed her top into the deeper waves, cackling. “Oops! Didn’t mean to!”

Y/N let out a scream, arms crossing over her chest, eyes wide with panic. “Are you kidding me?! What the hell?!”

The boys were still laughing, not realizing how serious she was.

But someone else did.

Felix was already sprinting from the tower.

His feet hit the sand hard, running full speed. Past the shoreline, crashing into the water like a force of nature. One of the boys saw him coming and bolted. The other stood frozen, half in shock, half in fear.

Felix didn’t stop.

He reached her, wrapping his arms around her from behind in one fluid motion, he turned her around his chest pressing against her breasts, strong arms holding her protectively.

“Got you,” he murmured, his voice low—too low—and calm despite everything.

Y/N was shaking. Not from the cold. Not from the water. From him. His arms. His voice. The sheer intimacy of it.

Her heart was somewhere in her throat.

“Stay still,” he said, one hand still holding her close, the other reaching out to catch the drifting bikini top with a perfect, practiced swipe.

Then his voice snapped like thunder toward the boys.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” His accent hit harder when he was angry. “You think this is funny? You touch anyone like that again and you’re not just getting kicked off the beach—you’ll be talking to police. Get lost.”

The boys scattered like roaches.

He turned back to her, gentler now.

“Hold on,” he murmured. “I’ve got it.”

With a strange tenderness, he helped her tie the top back on, his fingers brushing along her back, slow and methodical, careful not to look even though her blush was violently visible.

Then—just as he finished fastening the strap—he leaned in slightly, voice lower than it had ever been.

“Shame it wasn’t me who took it off.”

Her eyes snapped wide open. “What did you—?”

But he was already walking away, water dripping down his back, shoulders flexing with each step as he moved toward the shore like nothing happened.

“FELIX?!”

He didn’t turn around.

────୨ৎ────

Y/N sat wrapped in a towel like a sad burrito.

Yeji had finally arrived. “You had one job. Not to flash the beach.”

“I didn’t flash anyone, I got assaulted by middle schoolers.”

Yeji squinted at her. “Okay, fair. But can we talk about how you’re glowing right now? What happened?”

Y/N stared into the middle distance, whispering: “He said it.”

“Said what?”

“He said shame it wasn’t me who took it off.”

Yeji almost choked on her drink. “I’m sorry—EXCUSE ME?? Sir Felix ‘No Fun, Just Whistles’ said THAT?”

“WHILE tying it back on.”

Yeji stared at her in awe. “You have to seduce him today.”

“I need to interrogate him first.”

────୨ৎ────

She walks up to the lifeguard stand later, trying to be chill. Super casual. Not at all like she’s having an internal breakdown over a whisper.

He’s sitting there, eating from a container of cut-up mango like he didn’t just ruin her inner peace forever.

“Hey,” she says.

“Hey.” He looks up, relaxed, tongue flicking a mango slice into his mouth.

Unacceptable.

She blurts: “Did you mean it?”

He pauses. “Mean what?”

Her entire soul short circuits. “You know… the thing. The top. The taking-off thing.”

He raises a brow, amused. “Are you asking if I’m a pervert, or if I have taste?”

“I—what—no, I mean—yes?!”

He leans back, watching her squirm. “Maybe I just wanted to shut you up.”

“…What?”

“All that seduction. The sunscreen. The flip-flop. The fake fainting. The sunscreen again.”

Her mouth drops open. “You saw all that?!”

“I’m on watch,” he says, smug. “I see everything.”

She makes a strangled noise and nearly falls over trying to flee the scene.

────୨ৎ────

Y/N came prepared.

Leopard print? Too obvious. Floral? Too soft. Today, she wore nothing but white again. Her bikini bottom sat dangerously low, and she wasn’t wearing a top—just lying face-down on the towel with her arms folded under her head, chin resting on her wrists, legs stretched long and lazy. Her hair was in a loose bun, sunglasses on, lip gloss shining even under the sun.

And she knew he was watching.

Yeji was next to her, pretending to scroll her phone but clearly eyeing her like she’d lost her mind. “You’re insane.”

“He likes me,” Y/N said simply.

“I’m sorry, is this ‘he’ the same Felix that laughed when you pretended to drown? That Felix?”

“He told me it was a shame he didn’t undress me.”

Yeji went dead silent.

Y/N smirked and arched her back a little more, pushing her hips up so her ass caught the light, the curve dramatic, deliberate, and lethal.

“…Babe, you’re not even flirting anymore. You’re staging a porn.”

“I’m tanning.”

“You’re sinning.”

And then—

Crunching footsteps.

They both froze.

“…No fucking way,” Yeji whispered, staring over her sunglasses.

Y/N didn’t look. She felt it.

Felix crouched beside her towel, close enough that the shade of his figure darkened the sun on her shoulder. She smelled salt, sunscreen, and whatever cologne was hanging off his damp skin today.

“You’re going to get a sunburn on your back,” he said lowly, voice brushing the shell of her ear.

Y/N didn’t move.

Yeji’s jaw was somewhere in the sand.

Felix tilted his head. “Need help with the sunscreen?”

Silence.

Then—Y/N turned her head just slightly toward him, lips parted. “Do I look like I’d say no?”

He chuckled, not answering right away. He reached for the bottle Yeji had carelessly tossed beside them and popped it open with a click. Squeezed a generous amount onto his palm. The sound alone made Y/N squirm.

And then—his hands.

Warm.

Firm.

Slow.

Moving over her shoulders, across her back, then lower—his thumbs brushing her waist, fingers splaying wide. She gasped softly when he reached the small of her back, just above the waistband of her bikini bottom.

Y/N bit her lip.

His hands were so steady. Too steady for someone who should be flustered. But that was Felix—infuriatingly composed while she melted into the towel like butter on a grill.

He rubbed slow, methodical circles into her back, and every press of his thumbs felt like a kiss dipped in warning. You’re playing with fire.

And she was. Happily.

Yeji was still frozen beside them, pretending to scroll through her phone but definitely watching through her sunglasses.

“Relax,” Felix murmured, voice deep and smooth. “You’re tense.”

Y/N scoffed, half into the towel. “Wonder why.”

“Maybe it’s because you’ve been throwing yourself at lifeguards all week.”

“Not all lifeguards,” she mumbled.

“No?”

“Just one.”

Felix’s fingers paused—just a beat.

Then he smoothed the lotion lower, brushing close to the sides of her chest, but never quite crossing the line. He knew exactly what he was doing, the bastard.

“So I should feel special?”

She could feel the smirk in his voice. That cocky confidence, just barely covering something hungrier beneath it.

Then—

He leaned in.

His lips ghosted just above her ear, breath warm. “I like when you beg for attention.”

Her whole body stiffened—and not from the cold.

Before she could answer, he was already up. Walking away. Cool and casual, like he hadn’t just lit a match and tossed it over his shoulder.

She looked up in disbelief, eyes trailing after him. His back muscles were so unfair.

Yeji finally spoke.

“Are we going to pretend that didn’t just happen or—?”

────୨ৎ────

The lifeguard hut was humming with energy—half of them shirtless, all of them sun-kissed and cocky, talking over each other and sipping iced coffees.

Y/N walked in like she belonged there.

And technically, she didn’t.

But technicalities were for people who weren’t being ignored by the blond menace known as Felix.

Yeji had tried to stop her. “Y/N, I swear, if you go in there and start fake-rashing your way into his lap—”

“It’s not fake,” Y/N lied. “I’m itchy. And mad. And petty.”

The door creaked open behind her and heads turned. All of them. Like some Greek god convention had a roll call.

“Oh—hey,” Han said first, eyes already scanning her frame with his usual curious glint. “Everything alright?”

Y/N pouted. Dramatically. “I think I’m having a reaction to the sunscreen or something. There’s like… a rash?”

“Where?” Jeongin stood up so fast his chair squeaked.

“Need help?” offered Seungmin, already pulling on latex gloves from somewhere, like he’d trained for this exact emergency.

“Boys, please,” Chan said, chuckling. “Give her some space.”

“Oh, I don’t mind,” Y/N said sweetly. “It’s just—kind of hard to reach.”

Felix, sitting back with his feet up on the table and sunglasses on, hadn’t so much as flinched. His head turned lazily, a single brow raised above the rim of his shades.

“No comment?” she asked pointedly, arms crossed under her chest.

He shrugged. “I’m not a dermatologist.”

“You’re not funny.”

“Debatable.”

The other boys looked between the two of them like it was a tennis match from hell.

“Oh really?” Y/N said, tone sharpening into sugar-dagger territory. “You won’t help?”

“I’m on break,” Felix said simply.

“That’s it,” Y/N muttered.

And then—without fanfare, without shame—she dropped her bikini top.

“The rash is right here,” she said, pointing at her bare chest like she was unveiling the Mona Lisa.

The room short-circuited.

Jeongin turned around so fast he tripped over a stool.

Han fell off his chair.

Chan stared into the corner of the ceiling like he was mentally in church.

Seungmin had gone into full CPR mode and was frantically opening the first-aid kit with shaking hands.

Felix?

Felix exhaled the heaviest sigh known to man. “Y/N.”

“What?” she snapped, arms flaring with indignation. “If you won’t help, someone else will.”

But just as she tied her top back on with all the wounded pride of a tragedy heroine—her bravado slipped.

Literally.

Her chest started itching.

Burning, actually.

“…wait.”

She scratched her collarbone. Her neck. Her stomach.

“Wait. Oh no. Oh no no no—”

“Do you… actually have a rash?” Jeongin asked, blinking.

Y/N didn’t answer. She was already lifting her top again (to check, not to seduce anyone this time, thank you very much), and what she saw made her shriek.

“WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT.”

There were red blotches. Angry ones. Spreading up her sides and over her chest like she’d rolled in poison ivy and then insulted its mother.

Han leaned in, still lying half on the floor. “Okay but that’s definitely not acting anymore.”

Felix was already up, all trace of apathy gone. “Shit. Emergency bed. Now.”

Before she could argue, he scooped her up bridal-style—her dramatic ass, red patches and all—and laid her on the narrow cot in the back of the hut.

“I didn’t mean it,” she whispered, near tears. “I was just being dramatic.”

“No way,” said Seungmin, who was now dabbing her chest with some kind of cooling gel like a very professional nurse who wasn’t looking too hard.

“Is it from the water?” Chan asked, peering at the redness.

“She swam right after lunch,” Han added.

“Oh my God,” Y/N groaned, hiding her face. “I flashed all of you and now I’m actually allergic to the ocean.”

That was when Yeji burst through the hut door, cheeks pink from laughter, holding her phone like someone had just live-texted her the whole incident.

“WHAT HAPPENED—” she gasped, doubling over when she saw Y/N laid out on the emergency bed like some half-naked cautionary tale.

“Don’t,” Y/N said weakly, pointing at her. “Don’t you dare. How did you even find out !”

Hyunjin lowered his Phone and avoided Y/Ns Eyes.

“I told you not to pretend to have a rash.”

“I WASN’T PRETENDING—ANYMORE.”

Felix stood beside her, arms crossed, lips twitching like he was one laugh away from completely losing it.

“Next time you want my attention,” he said lowly, “just say hi.”

Y/N stared up at him in betrayal. “I already did once ! You ignored me. I hate you now !”

“You look hot like this,” he said.

She blinked.

Yeji cackled.

“…I hate you slightly less.”

────୨ৎ────

“Hey, do you guys have more of that aloe gel?” she asked, approaching the lifeguard hut where Felix was adjusting one of the rescue boards. “My skin’s still kind of itchy.”

He glanced at her. A tiny twitch at the corner of his mouth. “Yeah. Storage shed.”

He turned without another word and walked off toward the back of the hut. Y/N followed, pretending not to care that he hadn’t even looked at her bikini today.

The metal latch creaked as he opened the shed. She peeked inside—dim, stuffy, packed with boards, towels, boxes. It smelled like sunscreen, sea salt, and wet fabric.

“Do you need help finding it?” she asked, trying not to sound like she was begging for attention.

But before she could step back—

Clang.

The door closed behind her.

Click.

Locked.

Y/N blinked into the darkness. “…What the—”

Felix was there.

Close.

Too close.

She backed up until her shoulder hit the cool fiberglass of a surfboard. Her breath caught. He hadn’t touched her. Not yet.

He didn’t need to.

“You’ve been driving me insane,” he said lowly, eyes gleaming in the narrow slice of light. “That rash stunt? You really dropped your bikini top for them?”

She swallowed. “If you weren’t so goddamn unbothered I wouldn’t have to—”

His hand hit the wall beside her head.

She stopped.

He leaned in, lips brushing her ear.

“You followed me in here, babe. You sure you want what you’re asking for?”

Dim sunlight sliced in through the slats, streaking across Felix’s face, casting shadows over the sharp line of his jaw.

She should’ve said something clever. Should’ve smirked. Should’ve denied it.

Instead, she whispered, “Yes.”

And then he moved.

One step. One shift of his hips—and he pressed her to the wall, his body caging hers, the hard line of his cock grinding slow and rough against the thin fabric of her bikini bottoms.

She gasped. He exhaled like he’d been holding his breath for days.

“I’ve been patient,” he muttered, mouth dragging down her throat. “Too patient.”

Her fingers fumbled for something—his shoulder, his hair, anything to hold onto. But it didn’t matter.

His hand slid down between them, tugging the fabric of her bikini to the side. She barely had time to register the touch before his fingers were brushing over her folds, already slick.

“You’re soaked.”

“Felix—”

“You’ve been walking around like this? All week?” He growled into her skin. “What if someone else had touched you first?”

“Then you should’ve gotten there sooner,” she snapped—then gasped as he pushed two fingers inside her, curling them deep.

Her legs buckled. He caught her with a low chuckle.

“No time for games now, quit talking like a Brat” he said, already shoving his shorts down just enough to free himself. She felt him—hot, thick, flushed against her inner thigh. Her eyes widened.

“Lift your leg. Yeah—like that.” He hooked one of her thighs over his hip, steadying her against the wall. “You’re gonna take me just like this.”

And then he pushed in.

Slow at first. Stretching her open inch by inch, until she cried out against his shoulder.

“Fuck—fuck—”

“That’s it, sweetheart,” he groaned, dragging his hips back before slamming forward, filling her deep. “That’s what you wanted, isn’t it? You wanted me to ruin you.”

The words made her clench around him.

His rhythm built fast. Brutal. He was practically slamming her against the wall now, one hand gripping her thigh, the other braced beside her head, anchoring them both.

The storage shed echoed with the wet slap of skin on skin. Rescue boards rattled. A life vest fell from a shelf. She couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe—just felt.

“Turn around.”

“What—?”

“Turn. Around. Now.”

He pulled out with a grunt, spun her to face the wall, and bent her forward over the stacked beach towels. The moment her hands hit the crate, he was inside her again, deeper this time—rougher.

“Look at you,” he hissed. “Moaning like a whore, letting me fuck you in a damn shed.”

She couldn’t even deny it. Her eyes rolled back when his hand slipped around her front to rub harsh circles on her clit.

The noises were filthy. The air stank of sex and sweat and sun.

And when she came—biting down on her arm to muffle the scream—he kept fucking her through it, chasing his own high until his breath hitched.

Then he pulled out and finished across the curve of her ass, panting like he’d just survived a shipwreck.

Silence.

Only the sound of their breathing.

Her knees gave out. He caught her again, wrapped her up against his chest as her body trembled.

“…We just had sex on a crate of lost-and-found goggles,” she croaked.

Felix kissed her temple. “Hot.”

His breath was still ragged when he kissed her again.

Not gentle.

Not soft.

It was needy.

Y/N barely had time to register it. Her head spun, her thighs still trembled from the first time, but Felix was already reaching for her again, dragging her bikini bottoms all the way down this time and letting them fall around her ankles. She shivered.

“F-Feel like jelly,” she whispered.

“Then let me hold you up.”

He turned her, pressed her back against the shed wall once more, and hoisted her effortlessly—her legs wrapping around his waist on instinct.

His cock was hard again. Already.

She stared at him, breathless. “How do you even—?”

“I told you I wasn’t done.”

And just like that—he was inside her again.

No warm-up. No mercy.

She cried out, arms wrapping around his neck as he slammed into her, the motion jarring and raw and insane, but her body took it. Welcomed it. Soaked for it.

The surfboards rattled. Sand fell from the shelves. A whistle clattered to the ground.

He buried his face in her neck, sweat dripping from his temple to her collarbone.

“You feel so fucking good,” he growled. “Tight little pussy still clenching like she didn’t just milk me dry five minutes ago.”

She moaned and bit down on his shoulder to keep from screaming.

He fucked her harder.

The rhythm was relentless. The slap of his hips against her ass. Her heels digging into his back. Her hands desperately clawing at his lifeguard tank top. It was rougher than before—less about teasing, more about need.

She couldn’t even speak anymore.

Just moaned. Just whimpered.

His name on a loop in her mouth.

Felix. Felix. Felix.

“Gonna make you cum again,” he panted. “Wanna feel you squeeze me. Wanna hear those sweet little sounds you make when you lose it.”

“I—I can’t—”

“You can,” he snarled, and reached between them again, rubbing her clit with the kind of cruel rhythm that shattered her.

She came with a strangled gasp, head thrown back, nails digging into his shoulders.

But he didn’t stop.

Kept pounding into her while she was still spasming, overstimulated and whimpering, until he finally groaned her name and pulled out just in time—again—finishing hot and fast against her inner thigh with a choked moan.

They slumped against the wall together. Panting. Drenched. Shaking.

He looked down at her legs and laughed.

“You’re trembling.”

“No shit,” she mumbled into his chest. “I think my soul left my body halfway through.”

“I’m gonna have to carry you out of here.”

“Absolutely not.”

He kissed her again, this time softer. Lazy. Almost smug.

“…I love my life,” she whispered against his lips.

Felix grinned.

───୨ৎ────────୨ৎ───────୨ৎ───

POST-CREDIT SCENE (Wrap it up Marvel)

The air in the shed was thick—salt, sex, and shame clinging to the wooden beams.

Felix peeled a towel from the nearest crate and gently wiped between Y/N’s thighs, trying not to laugh when she squirmed.

“You okay?”

“No.” She was still breathless. “You broke me.”

“You’re walking. Eventually.”

He kissed her knee. Then her inner thigh. Then pulled her bikini bottoms back up, slow and gentle, like he hadn’t just ravaged her against the wall twice in a row.

He tucked himself back into his lifeguard shorts, ran a hand through his wild hair, and muttered, “We look so guilty.”

“We are guilty.”

She fixed her top, cheeks flushed, trying to rub some sand off her elbows with zero dignity left in her body. “I feel like I’ve got sunscreen in places it should never go.”

“Can i have your Number ?“ Felix interrupted her. She blinked at him. “I would even give you my Social Security Number“

Felix opened the shed door, the blinding sunlight making them both flinch like goblins.

Then—

“THERE you are!”

Yeji.

Standing ten feet away with a coconut in her hand and the biggest grin on her face.

Next to her—Chan. Shirtless. Holding a pool noodle like a sword.

Y/N froze.

Chan tilted his head. “You guys were gone for a while.”

Yeji took one look at Y/N’s flushed face, damp hair, and the towel clutched around her waist—and lost it.

Dropped her coconut. Fell to her knees. Screamed with laughter.

Y/N just stood there, mortified, as Yeji literally wheezed, gasping between fits:

“Your hair—your HAIR is still pressed flat on one side—you leaned against something! Oh my GOD—!”

Felix slid an arm around Y/N’s waist casually. “We were checking inventory.”

Chan raised an eyebrow. “In the shed?”

Felix: “A very… thorough inspection.”

The rest of the team started glancing over now. Hyunjin blinked at their reappearance, clocked the rumpled towel, the shell-shocked look on Y/N’s face—and immediately turned away, muttering, “Nope. Not my business.”

But Felix leaned into Y/N, kissed her hair, and whispered, “You good?”

She nodded. And then—louder, so everyone could hear:

“I love my life!”

She raised her Fist into the Air.

“I MADE IT ! The hard work paid OFF“

Felix snorted and pulled her to the Ocean to get her more Clean.

#felix #felix stray kids #felix x reader #felix yongbok #lee felix #skz felix #lee felix smut #stray kids #skz smut #stray kids smut

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gojosoups · 6 months ago

Text

Luffy x reader | oneshot, smut, 18+

Captain's Orders

ღ summary: Perhaps the summer heat was finally getting to his head, making him feel delirious and restless, or perhaps it was the way the summer season looked so good on you, with sweat trickling down your neck and the strings of your bikini trying their best to keep you covered. But one thing was for sure, what bothered him most (despite his obliviousness), was the look Sanji kept throwing your way and his unwillingness to leave your side the whole day.

ღ pairing: jealous!luffy x reader

ღ warnings/tags: 18+, smut, established relationship, implied breeding kink, creampie, fingering, cum licking, unprotected sex, penetrative sex, feelings of jealousy, possessive behaviour, markings, female reader, female-bodied reader, slightly proofread, ooc?, luffy's big back is greedy

a/n: repost from my old blog because I impulsively deleted my account :/ also does anyone know the artist? cuz I wanna properly tag them

wc: 0.8k

Jealous!Luffy who sat on his special seat on the Thousand Sunny, watching intently at the interaction before him. His back against the lion's head and arms crossed behind his head in a laid-back manner, despite the intensity of his stare. The captain's precious straw hat resting on his head tilted down, hiding the murderous glare directed at Sanji.

Jealous!Luffy who was stuck watching the interaction before him, how you have Sanji wrapped around your little finger, catering to your very beck and call. His glare unwavering as he saw the way Sanji was looking at you, at the way he was ogling at you, practically undressing you with his perverted eyes.

Jealous!Luffy who recognizes the look Sanji was giving you. Hell, it was the same look he has whenever he sees you. Although... Luffy can't blame Sanji for his lustful gaze, not when you were perched prettily on the lawn chair, looking like an appetizing meal, tempting and delicious.

Jealous!Luffy who was starting to get restless from how you were carelessly sitting there, looking pretty and taking every single compliment Sanji threw your way with a smile on your lovely face. He was getting frustrated from listening to your adorable giggles whenever Sanji showered you with compliments, bringing a smile to your glossy kissable lips. A tiny green monster crawling its way into his heart as he sat unmoving from his seat, watching another man treat you like you were his, when you belonged to Luffy.

Jealous!Luffy who will forever be a kid at heart. Greedy and possessive over what belongs to him. After all, what belongs to Luffy, is his. He did not like to share his food, and he definitely won't share you and the sweet dessert between your thighs. These were merely the captain's orders.

Jealous!Luffy who finally had enough. Getting up from the lion's head, Luffy made a beeline towards your direction. Ignoring the curious looks his other crew mates sent his way, his grip on your forearm firm, maybe a little too firm, and pulling you up as the chair launches to the floor. Ignoring your protests and questions, he made his way towards the women's cabin with you meekly following behind.

Jealous!Luffy who can be impatient at times, kicking the door open and throwing you onto the bed. He can be so impatient, and forgetful too, about locking the door. But you can't blame him, can you? Not when you look breathtaking with your bare back against the bed, your pathetic excuse of a bikini hastily taken off and thrown across the room, and your hair sprawled across the sheets, framing your beautiful face. There was no need for him to tell you what to do, it had become routine work for you.

Jealous!Luffy who can be so mean at times, eagerly coating himself with your slick, before aligning with your slutty pussy and thrusting his cock inside your warm cunt with little to no prep. But he couldn't help himself, not when your silky warm walls were clenching on his cock, trying to milk him for everything he's worth, and especially not when he had you squirming and crying underneath him, begging him for more and more and more. He couldn't help himself, not when the squelching sounds the both of you made were music to his ears, or how the drag of his veins running along the underside of his cock felt like pure heaven against your spongy tight walls.

Jealous!Luffy who worshiped your very existence, marking you as his for others to see. He left bruises and bite marks across your delicate skin, decorating every inch of you his hands or mouth could find. His grip on your hips never weakened, nails digging into your flesh and leaving behind crescent shapes. He continued with his assault. Kissing, licking, and biting from your neck and collarbone, all the way to the valley of your breasts.

Jealous!Luffy who’s pace only increased with each thrust, going harder and faster as he desperately chased after his and your release. Your back arched and nails digging in his back desperately for stability as you clench impossibly tight on his dick, pulling him in further as you come undone around him. But Luffy wasn't done with you just yet.

Jealous!Luffy who kept fucking your poor cunt over and over again, chasing after his release. Until finally, he came. The tip of his cock kissing your cervix as he released his seed deep inside your fertile cunt. Your name rolling off the tip of his tongue like a prayer.

Jealous!Luffy who watched your sensitive pussy spill out his cum, unable to keep it all stuffed inside your tight hole. Using his right index and middle finger, he played around with the mixture of his and your cum, spreading it across your poor puffy lips and pushing it back into your sweet hole. Bringing his fingers to his mouth, he happily cleaned them, humming in approval at his satisfied hunger.

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bernardsbendystraws · 10 months ago

Text

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒕 𝒛𝒐𝒏𝒆

⤷ 𝒃𝒓𝒐𝒘𝒏𝒊𝒆𝒔 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒃𝒊𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒊𝒔

⚠︎ mdni, smut, alcohol abuse, parental neglect, overall mature themes, and more [ this is made for all parts ]

⤷ Get to reading, sluts. No copying. Ask if you’d like to use this as ‘inspiration.’ Fuck off and fuck me, lets get horny!!!

good vibez, Rose Toy

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

My skin was pulsing with anticipation. I had promised Matt to wear the blue bikini he hadn’t gotten to see me in. In order to prep myself, I had tanned on the rooftop of our place in LA with Nick a lot. Thankfully, I had gotten more comfortable in my own skin.

The thought of wearing the skimpy two piece of the beaches of California didn’t feel nearly as daunting. The anxiety surrounding skin showing had been thrown far out.

These thoughts got replaced by a new one.

Matt being unable to keep his eyes off of me.

He had always been attentive. No matter what, my man was always watching out for me. This included holding my hand, making sure I didn’t drift off in stores. It also happened on a daily basis as he reminded me to eat and drink water.

Other times…a certain look would catch his eye. It first happened when I bought a really cute mini skirt. Matt couldn’t keep his hands off me, not that I minded. The next time, it was when I was only wearing his shirt and underwear. Apparently, the sight of me sleepy and eating pancakes next to him in his clothes really turns him on.

I loved when he got so needy.

He constantly pulled me onto his lap, kneading at my exposed thighs. At times, he would even let his fingers wander up my skirt. When I would call him out, reminding him we were in public, he quickly made an escape plan to land us in our bed at home.

I was flattered by his antics, but it didn't stop there. I had become obsessed. Addicting was the perfect term to describe how I felt watching him reach out, greedy for my skin.

He had planned a date for us, a sweet gesture he refused to ever forget about. This time, it was a beach date. A brand new cooler had been set on the kitchen counter earlier as he packed it full of food for us, refusing to let me help.

I could still hear him shuffling around in the kitchen outside of our room as I tugged on the thin blue straps of the swimsuit. My ears also detected the loud heartbeat thumping with excitement. I threw on a pair of jean shorts and a loose T-shirt, one from the boys merch line that was technically Matt's. Sliding on my birks, I take a deep breath, nodding with approval at my appearance.

Makeup wasn’t a good option for the beach. I hadn’t put any on. Although I knew Matt found me pretty regardless, but I felt plain without it. The delicate strokes of black mascara defined my eyes in a way that made me feel more confident. The lack of mascara coating my lashes made me feel more naked than the skimpy swimsuit.

I push open the door, walking out to see Matt leaning over the counter on his phone. The counter is barren of the cooler. “I put everything in the car. Are you ready to go? My god…you look gorgeous.” Matt mumbles.

My spirit boosts at his compliment. With a little more excitement in my steps, I make my way over to him and kiss him lightly on the cheek.

“Thanks, baby,” Matt leans a kiss onto my forehead, cupping my cheeks in between his hands before trailing his hand down my arms. As his hands latch onto mine, he lets one string a piece of my hair behind my ear. “--and yeah, I’m ready.” I say.

“Let’s go then, hm?” he suggests.

He gives a slight nod as he starts walking down the stairs to the front door with my hand in his own. I nearly trip and stumble, clutching onto his shoulder. Matt’s body reacts quickly to the sudden motion, his hands both landing on my waist as I smile sheepishly at him.

“Sweetheart…” he trails off knowingly, a light chuckle falling from his lips.

I go to take another step, but my feet are lifted from the ground as he throws me over his shoulder. “Matt!” I whine out. He laughs harder, his hand on the backs of my thighs caressing the skin soothingly.

“No, I’m not letting you fall down these stairs again.” he points out.

I accept defeat, hanging my limbs lifelessly as he walks us down the stairs. Walking out the door, he sets me down in the passenger seat of the car. He plants a kiss onto the top of my head, ruffling my hair as I huff and cross my arms.

“Thank you.” I mutter.

Matt laughs at my acknowledgment, shutting the door softly as he walks around to the driver’s side of the car. As I sit further into the seat, my eyes bulge from my head.

“It’s about fifteen minutes for the car ri--what’s wrong?” he asks, noticing my widened eyes.

The wet, sticky sensation makes me huff out a sigh. “Did Chris happen to spill something? My fucking ass is sticky.” I mutter.

I hear Matt mutter a curse word under his breath, his hand slamming onto the steering wheel with annoyance. He sucks in a deep breath. I feel his hand caress the side of my arm as I let my head drop onto the headrest of the seat.

“--’m sorry. I’ll wait in here if you wanna go change. I think I–”

I hold up a hand, placing it on top of his. “Honestly, I think I might just sit on my shorts and just wear the T-shirt. Everything else I tried to wear just didn’t feel right, ya know?” Matt nods, understanding as I open up my car door. I quickly slide the shorts off, placing them back on top of the seat and carefully relaxing back into the seat.

A moment of silence passes before I look over to Matt, his eyes entranced on my bare thighs. I smile, bringing a hand up and rubbing his shoulder.

“Let’s go, baby.” I say.

Matt’s hand on the wheel moves slowly until he clasps his fingers around my thigh. Letting out a shaky breath, he twists the stings of the bikini.

“Is this the blue one I haven’t seen yet?” he asks. I hum in response, earning a heavy sigh from him as he grasps at the skin harder.

I tap on Matt’s hand, picking it up and placing it back on the steering wheel. “You need your hands to reverse, Matt.” I point out.

Laughs leave through my lips as he shakes his head vigorously.

“Can we…can we go back inside for a minute? I just…I need to touch you…please.” he breathes out, placing his hand back on my thigh.

I give him a knowing look with squinted eyes. “Matt…”

He leans back in his chair, shutting his eyes tightly closed as he sucks in a harsh breath. “You’re…you’re right. We won’t be making it to the beach if we go back inside now, but…god, you’re beautiful.” he says.

I sway my thumb over the back of his hand. “Thank you, now let’s go, yeah?” I press.

He nods, pulling his hand off my leg hesitantly. As the car reverses quickly, I nearly laugh at the determined look on his face. Matt shifts the car back into drive, placing his hand widely clasped around my thigh.

Beautiful.

Matt looked beautiful. The sunset was beautiful. Everything was just…perfect.

The cooler had been stacked full of snacks, nearly empty as we picked through a bag of strawberries.

“Open up, baby.” Matt says.

I let him feed me the last strawberry, embracing the cool summer air. The sand sinks beneath me and the blanket, curating a crater that leaves me leaning further into Matt’s side. His hand had yet to leave my skin. It typically had been gravitating down to my exposed thigh, often trailing up my arm as a means to pull me closer to him.

I loved it.

He made me feel beautiful. The reoccurring thought of not having makeup on hadn't passed through my mind since we arrived.

His wandering touches were needy, his fingers clasping and massaging into my skin. Matt’s eyes stayed trained on me, analyzing the possible outline of my swimsuit from beneath his T-shirt that I was wearing. Well, our T-shirt based on how much I wore it at this point.

“I…do you wanna get in the water?” he suggests.

I nod, swallowing back a smile as he shifts away from me. He pulls over his own T-shirt, leaving him in just his swim shorts. I lick over my lips, excitedly standing next to him as I peel the shirt off my body.

Matt slowly lets his eyes wander over me. His hands think before he does based on his glazed-over expression. I feel his warm touch enclose around my waist, pulling me inches away from him.

“Fuck, you…you look so gorgeous.” he stammers out.

I laugh, pushing my palms against his chest. I start walking towards the water, his arm swirling around my waist tightly, binding the movement of my steps.

“Matt, I can’t exactly walk like this.” I point out.

Our steps slow, his face burying itself in my neck as his hands graze up and down my sides. His warm breath contradicts the cool summer air. I feel the shivers cover my skin in goosebumps as he lets his fingertips gently caress into my flesh.

“...don’t care. Just, just need to touch you, sweetheart. God,” he sighs, letting his head fall on my shoulder.

The feeling of his lips kissing the side of my neck sends a burning sensation between my legs. The greed of his hands lending my gut a swirl of pure bliss that makes me feel lighter.

“Matt…we’re in public.” I point out.

Matt’s kisses don’t slow or decrease with passion, instead, I feel his teeth prod with his lips. A gasp shutters out of me. His lips curl into a smile against my neck.

“Let’s go home, baby. I wanna make you feel good.” he says in a soft voice while grazing my hair behind my shoulder.

His lips get back to work, adorning the sides of my neck with a growing urgency as his hands grasp around my waist tighter and tighter. I let my eyes flicker open, pushing him back by his shoulders gently.

“Take me home, Matt.” I whisper out.

The drive home was torture. Matt's hand kept slipping further and further up my thigh. The fifteen minute drive had somehow been shortened to a ten minute drive. There was no time to bring the cooler and picnic blanket inside. Matt had literally grabbed me out of the car, slinging me over his shoulder as I giggled with excitement.

Our lips proceeded to move against each other as he hovered over me on our bed. The muscle on my face growing tired as the pressure between my legs seems to increase drastically. Matt trails the kisses down the side of my neck, my pulse aching loudly in my ears as heat swarms every part of my body.

“I…can I please taste you, sweetheart? I–fuck,” he manuavers himself to settle between my thighs. He holds the flimsy blue fabric tie of the bikini, looking up at me. “--I need it, baby. Can I?”

I reach down, placing my hand over Matt’s as I tug the tie to unknot and fall from my body. Matt eagerly kisses over my hip, his other hand undoing the tie on the other side. My chest heaves in anticipation, my legs clenching around his shoulders to find some sort of release.

The blue bikini fabric flashes in the corner of my eye as I hear it hit the floor. Matt wastes no time, slinging my legs over his shoulders as his lips trail their way up my thigh. My gut vibrates with anticipation as I rock my hips further towards his face.

“Is this still okay, sweetheart?” Matt asks.

I nod my head furiously, whispering out an affirmation of acknowledgement in a desperate tone. In an instant, his tongue darts over the place I needed him most. A noise falls from my lips at the satisfaction, his smooth, slow movements increasing intensity with each passing second.

His tongue darts around my bud of nerves harmonically with my hips moving in the bed. The pure pleasure oozes from every corner of my mind, focusing only on the bliss of his mouth against me.

“--mmmm, so good, so good–” The vibration from his voice sends me closer to the edge, my legs closing around him. He keeps moaning against me, his lips sealing around my clit as he sucks harshly. Darting his tongue onto the bud, I let my hands grip his hair tightly.

“I…oh my god, I…”

I’m unable to find the words through the heaven of his touch. He hums against me, his hands clasping around my legs and prying them down to keep me in place.

“--come on, sweetheart. You got it, come on…” he dives back into my folds, the rhythm of his mouth resumed.

My jaw falls open silently. The muscles in my stomach clench more and more, earning louder noises falling from my lips as Matt drinks in every ounce of my pleasure with sighs of contentment.

“Tastes so fucking good…so fucking good.”

The obnoxious slurps increase in volume, his grip getting tighter as body convulses. I look down, seeing his eyes closed and his eyebrows furrowed. He hungrily devours me. The focus imprinted on his face keeps my attention towards the feeling in my gut, a euphoria that leads my head throwing back into the pillow roughly as a broken moan leaves my mouth.

Riding out the orgasm, my hips slowly roll to a stop. Matt pulls his head up, leaving gentle kisses on my thighs as he spreads my legs wider. His eyes stay trained on the sight in front of him, hesitantly moving his gaze up to mine with a look of desire and need.

“I…can I just clean you up? Please?” he asks.

The desperation laced in his voice leaves my dizzy head nodding lazily. “Go ahead, baby.” I whisper between heavy breaths.

Not wasting a second, Matt immediately lets his tongue wander over my pulsing folds. He leads the pink muscle along me with a softer touch. The tender care of his actions still leaves me nearly crying at the sensitivity, pulling at his hair as he starts to pull away reluctantly.

His swollen lips press softly along my thighs as he crawls up and lays himself on the bed next to me. As he plops down, he wraps his arms around me and pulls me into his chest.

Slowly, my breath evens out. Matt gets up, rummaging through our dresser and coming over with clean underwear and a T-shirt. He dresses me, massaging my limbs before pressing a swift kiss to my lips. I taste the lingering remnants of myself on his lips as he caresses my face in his hands.

“I kinda want brownies.” I announce.

At the random statement, Matt laughs with a head shake of disbelief.

“Okay, sweetheart. We can go make brownies. Anything else you want?” he asks as he pulls me up by the hand, walking us into the barren kitchen.

“No, I just really need to taste some chocolate right now.” I say.

Matt turns around. My steps don’t react quick enough, landing us chest-to-chest. “I really need to taste you.” he says.

I smile, patting his chest with a light laugh falling from my lips. “You can after brownies.” I say.

Matt’s eyes go wide, his grasp getting tighter on my hand as I try to walk around him.

“Wait,” I drift my gaze up to him, ripping open the cardboard brownie mix box. His eyes are wide, full of hope. “Really? You mean it?” he asks.

I hum with a curt nod of my head. He walks over, hugging me from behind. His face slithers in the crook of my neck, his hands sliding down my hips bones and dangerously closer and closer to the hem of my underwear through the shirt.

“Matt,” I announce.

“Hm?” he asks.

I turn my head, making eye contact with him as he stares at me innocently. I hold my gaze to him, giving a knowing look. He accepts defeat, letting out a huff.

“Fine.” The disappointment is clear in his voice as he grabs the brownie mix bag from my hands, hurriedly dumping it into the mixing bowl. “--after fucking brownies.”

After Matt pushes the glass pan in the preheated oven, he closes the appliance door with a smirk. I tilt my head, watching a thought bubble over his mind with a sly pride found in his features.

“You know,” he stalks closer to me. I feel the counter hit my back as his hands land on either side of me, caging me. “--they have to bake for like thirty minutes.”

I giggle, pulling him in for a kiss as he picks me up from under my thighs. A squeal leaves my lips as he speed walks us to his room, kicking the door closed before tossing me down on the bed.

“You,” he slithers his hand up between my legs, grasping the hem of my underwear as he plants his wet lips over my thigh. “--you taste a lot better than fuckin' brownies.”

#series.cz.fics #comfort zone #cz epilogue #matt sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo smut #the sturniolo triplets #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x you #sturniolo fluff #sturniolo imagine #matt x reader

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ariasakka · 7 months ago

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Nanami in bed 18+ MNDI

3k words. Female reader.

Spoiler he’s a simp for poc women

All nanami stories by me will be under the hashtag NanamiAria

Soft dom Nanami

Nanami would be a soft dom. Loves giving you lots of prep for him. Lots of sushing. Sushing if you squirm too much. Sushing if you become overstimulated. He wants to be the one who does all the work. He doesn’t want you to move just stay still and take his gentle love making. He won’t let you lift a finger. If it becomes a bit too much he’ll gently push your limits staying in slightly longer each time to build your stamina. I see him as someone who can last a long time and like long sessions so he will try to slowly and gently build you up to his level.

Occasionally rough fucks you and degrades you slightly when you tease him too much or when he’s had an extra rough day at work. He prefers to be gentle but when you push his buttons too many times you’ll find yourself bent over his desk, dicked down with no preparation. Immediately after a rough session he’ll go back to being sweet. Leaving soft kisses over your whole body. Pulling you in for a hug or cuddles. Saying things like “are you alright love?, You’re perfect., I love you darling.”.

He likes being the provider the one to do all the work so he would prefer being with someone submissive in the bedroom. If you were a top he would let you grind on him a bit but after a few mines Kento would grab your hips, ending up taking charge, being the one bouncing you up and down on him. He’s never aggressive about needing to be the one in charge it’s just in his nature I don’t think he would even realize he’s like this often times.

Nanami experience level

Not that experienced probably has only been with three people tops. Probably hates casual sex or one night stands. Despite his low experience Kento fucks like he’s a porn star quite literally. He can last forever if he wants to, even cum on command. Always knows the right words to say to get you off too it’s like it was scripted but it wasn’t. Love making just comes naturally to him.

You’d think based on his professional quiet composure that he doesn’t think about sex often but that would be a lie. I think he’s quite hyper sexual. Though he would try to match whatever sex drive you had out of respect. To get off when he’s not in a relationship or when you’re not around I don’t see him being the type of guy to watch porn. I see him reading smutty novels. He honestly reads them quite often. As sort of a guilty pleasure. Thats probably where he learned his skills and pillow talk from.

Nanami’s taste in women

Everybody headcannons him as liking women of color. I 100% agree! He loves tan skin, olive skin, dark skin, dark hair, long hair, wavy hair, curly hair, braids, straight hair. Hispanic women, black women, Asian women, mixed women, he loves it all. He would be captivated by some woman that doesn’t look like the usual girl he sees walking around town. He’s never really liked a white girl before especially if they’re blonde because it reminds him too much of himself. He doesn’t realize this consciously he’s always just liked who he’s liked in his eyes. I see him getting turned on everytime you get a tan. Everytime he sees the contrast of your tan skin next to his pale tone. It makes him want to eat you quite literally. He’ll use any excuse he can to drag you down to the beach with him to see your skin glow and grow darker under the sun. Also as an excuse to see you in the new bikini he secretly bought for you. If his woman wore a bonnet he would find it adorable whenever you had one on. He would often buy you new ones that are the highest quality silk in your favorite colors to spoil you. He’s obsessed with dark hair. Doesn’t matter if it’s straight, curly, wavy, braided, coily. He loves it all. You’ll often times find Nanami sneaking up behind you to smell your hair or finding any excuse he can to run his fingers through your locks/touch your hair. He’s quite literally obsessed with all of you. If you were from a different culture he would get turned on everytime you cooked him meals that you grew up with or spoke your native language. He would learn how to speak your Native language secretly to surprise you. Especially as a cute way to propose and a sneaky way to spice up things the bedroom. He would do little things to learn more about your culture overtime to feel closer to you and get to know you better. I see him liking curves on your bottom half. Such as thick thighs, juicy bottom. Definitely more of an ass man. I don’t see him caring if someone has a big chest or not it’s just something that’s either there or isn’t. He’ll cherish whatever body shape you bless him with.

Body hair preferences.

He literally does not give a single fuck what you do with your body hair. He’s obsessed with you no matter what. Nothing will stop him from eating you out. Pubes. He loves you bald, trimmed, different patterns, landing strip, bush. He will love and cherish whatever you have whenever you have it simply because it’s you. Other body hair. He doesn’t care if you shave or not. I think he’d be used to someone who did shave their body hair but wouldn’t tell you what to do. Hes a grown man he doesn’t find body hair to make someone any more or less attractive. I do think he would probably be with someone who preferred to remove all their body hair and preferred him to have some specifically just because I see him being with someone more feminine and traditional. Traditional fem women seem like the type prefer those things at least to me.

For himself I see him having light chest hair and leaving it untouched. Lightly trimming his underarm hair. For his pubes I see him leaving them trimmed, preferring just a little something on his skin. If you asked otherwise for him to be bald or bush he would do whatever you asked to please you.

Nanami dad

Everyone headcannons him as wanting children but personally I would think he’d be scared of that. He would find children to be cute yes but at the end of the day he wouldn’t want his children growing up in a world they ultimately just have to work a stressful 9-5 and probably overtime in. He doesn’t like work he just does it because he has to. He knows he would have to work more if he had a kid and wouldn’t be able to spend the time he wanted with his family. He wouldn’t want to curse a kid with that life.

Regardless of kids he would ask you to quit your job and let him be the provider. He doesn’t want you to feel the same stress he does over work. I think pregnancy would worry him too much. He’d hate how hard it was on a woman’s body. He’d constantly think something bad would happen to you because he’d spend too much time on the internet trying to learn every possibility of something that could happen to stay ahead of it. I do think he has a kink for cuming inside you so he would most likely get a vasectomy so no accidents happen. If you really wanted children he would fuck you silly and remind you with his words how you wouldn’t be able to take him like this often if you were pregnant or busy with kids. When he’s finished with that he’ll buy you a cat instead to keep you occupied and hopefully for you not to ask again or he’ll buy another cat. I see him being a big cat person. Seeing you take care of the cats just doing simple things like that turns him on a lot.

Jealous Nanami

He tries not to be too possessive or jealous. He’s a grown man and understands a woman can live her own life, have her own friends, and what not. Though he tries his hardest to be good but he’s such a jealous man. He tries his best not to show his jealousy thinking it’ll turn you off. Not knowing that you’d actually love that side of him. Everytime you come back from an outing that he didn’t attend he missed your attention so much he’ll fuck you till your dick drunk off of him hoping you’ll feel so good and spoiled from him that you won’t leave again without him anytime soon. Any time you’re out together and a man looks at you he grips you tighter. It makes him want to take you to the nearest restroom, pin you up against the wall, fuck you passionately with love, while he begs you to tell him he’s the only man for you. He’s not insecure he knows you won’t leave or cheat. He also likes when men look at you he likes seeing their eyes shine at you then gaze up to him and realize they can’t have you. He still get’s so jealous from it though he can’t really understand why.

Nanami turn ons.

Doing domestic things turns him on a lot. Such as bringing him lunch, making him coffee,

cleaning, doing laundry. He likes it more than you wearing lingerie especially if you’re doing your chores wearing his shirt. Not that he thinks a woman has to do the domestic labor but he is old fashioned and traditional so he prefers traditional roles. He sees you doing these things as a sign of love and care. He also does the household duties when he has time off of work if there’s anything that needs to be done. Knowing you get to relax while he takes care of a household duty turns him on. You’ll often find him dragging you into the shower with him to fuck you silly when he’s finished mowing the lawn, or mopping the floors. He especially loves it when he comes home to find you doing something you love like cooking. When you’re cooking one of his favorite meals he’ll often eat you as the main course first as a way to say thank you for spoiling him.

He would never admit it but loves when you’re bratty on occasion because it gives him an excuse to bend you over his knee. He loves when you talk back without a care like you don’t know he’ll quickly put you in place. Nanami loves when your bratty self teases him while he’s at work. Weather it being you sending him pictures, videos, or you showing up and getting down on your knees under his desk toying with his waistband.

Husband Nanami

He loves being a husband. He would get married quickly. When he finds the right woman he doesn’t see the need to wait. He’s a hopeless romantic. Just being married turns him on. Knowing you have his last name, knowing he gets to take care of you from now on, it drives his mind wild. Anytime you casually call him husband or remind him that you’re his wife his member perks up instantly.

Nanami dirty talk

“Shh shh look at me love I have to break you in or you’ll never be able to take me. Just let it sit here I won’t thrust alright.

“Shh I told you to let me love”

“You’re so beautiful when I’m inside of you love. I always love how you let me take my time with you.”

“I’m so glad i met you. I feel so spoiled having such a sexy wife. Maybe i should spoil you with my tongue?”

“Shh hold still my love. Relax.”

“I love you darling. That’s right. I love it when it’s all the way inside your pretty walls”

“Yes that’s it love, let it out. Dont you dare hold back those moans from your husband.”

Kinks

I see him as old fashioned. Not super kinky. If being a care giver (not age play just like being the protector and provider) and a top in bed is a kink you can count that. Also finishing inside of you. Not sure if thats a kink but he has to finish inside of your pussy. He loves the feeling it gives both of you. On the rare occasions you last long enough for him to finish twice he’s in heaven. He’s obsessed with you being filled with him. He pulls back up your panties after and lifts up slightly to push his cum further inside you he doesn’t want anything dripping out of you. He wants it to sit inside of you for the rest of the day/night so that every time you feel filled you remember the sweet love he made to you. I see him enjoying spanking. Bending you over his knee when you’ve been bratty. Or slapping your ass while he fucks you from behind. Eyes winding and mouth watering with he sees you grow wet/wetter from his slaps. Aside from that I see him liking to use his tie to occasionally tie your hands behind your back. Mainly when you’ve been bratty and he wants to fuck you rough. Aside from that at most he would probably use a vibrator on you if you wanted/needed but would prefer to use himself.

Name calling

I don’t think he would be into much name calling. I mean maybe he would be into daddy or sir? Though I see him being softer I could see him having a darker side to him and liking it. But I think he would probably prefer you to names like; love, my darling, husband, baby, both in an out of bed. He would like calling you the same names in an out of bed as well.

Nanami receiving

He loves getting his dick sucked. Groaning at the sound of you lubing him up for your hole. He loves guiding your movements with his hands tangled in your lucious hair. Though he loves this he doesn’t like cuming in your mouth he prefers to cum down your cunny instead. He has a lot of stamina and control so he can prevent himself from cumming down your throat waiting until he uses your other hole.

Thats about the most receiving he likes the rest of the time he’d rather do all the work. Even though technically while you’re sucking him he still doing all the work by being the one to guide all your movements and telling you what to do.

Nanami moaning?

He’ll give soft grunts and moans occasionally. He’ll softly moan and grunt or pant heavily when he finishes inside you. He’s more of a talker than a moaner In my opinion. He loves whispering sweet things into your ears and sushing you quite often. He loves the sound of your moans he doesn’t Sush as a sign to be quiet but more as a sign to “take it” and also out of habit. He’s so used to saying “shh” he sort of does it out of instinct instead of moaning.

All nanami stories by me will be under the hashtag NanamiAria

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taelophone · 29 days ago

Text

First, Never Last — your first hookup w Surfer Boy! luigi

trigger warnings ; dry humping . no prep lowkey erm . fwb-esque . pain kink maybe . size kink. dacryphilia . genuine depravity . readers hinted short .

event // taglist

You heard it before you got to see it; you had long since familiarized yourself with the sound of sunburn before its victim limped through the house.

First, the door would slam— not hard enough to erect a sense of unease, but firm enough to signify a slight sense of abandon that could only stem from a minor annoyance. Then, you’d hear things clattering on the rickety hardwood floors and quiet murmurs of various profanities.

Then, finally, a deep gust of wind would sift through his teeth before he would search the house for your presence. In through the back door, shoving his way through the kitchen, balancing his surfboard against the glossy wallpaper that concealed the reddish-tinted wooden walls, and gently stomping his way up the stairs and into your room.

Normally he’d knock…normally he’d be patient and wait. But he was in a lot of pain, okay! You try being red and itchy all over your body!

“Cutie, can you help, I’m sunburned like all over my fucking body, and it hurts—“ he mumbled, pausing in his tracks as his eyes roamed over your form laying in your bed, spine pressed against your headboard in a blue and white polka dot bra while your eyes scanned the lines of a book.

“Oh, sorry, my bad. I should’ve knocked. Anyway, can you help me, please, my entire body hurts,” he pouted, making his way into your room and cautiously plopping himself down on your bed.

You dropped your book, staring him dead in his face with the most deadpan expression you could muster.

“Luigi.”

“Yes?” He smiled, not seeming at all bothered by the fact you barely even had a top on.

“I literally don’t even have a shirt on. Can you not?” you huffed, setting your book down on the nightstand.

“You live on a beach, your bikinis don’t cover as much as you think they do. I’ve seen more than I’m seeing now; get up and help me, please.”

You groaned, rolling out of your bed to reveal your white hibiscus flower shorts underneath your plush blanket. You fumbled through your dresser, pushing aside metal cans and various health-related products before unearthing a plastic bottle of aloe gel underneath the chaos.

“Lay back, bro,” you sighed, pushing him to lie on his back by pressing your hand gently over his face.

“Be gentle,” he whined, pouting his lips at you like a child getting ready to throw a tantrum.

“What do I say every time you go outside? There’s a BOTTLE OF SUNSCREEN BY THE DOOR!” You groan, squeezing the clear contents of the container onto his chest and shoulders. “But you can’t wait for five seconds…”

“I hate sunscreen, it feels gross…it’s like oil, but thick. And then it makes me look like I’m wearing bad goth makeup,” he huffed, biting back borderline pathetic whines and winces as your hands glided across his firm and toned upper body.

The aloe was cool, like gentle ice cascading down his burns, but your proximity added another layer of heat between the two of you that had suddenly taken a very intimate turn. You hovered on top of him, his long legs curved over the edge of the bed as you leaned over him to coat his neck in the frosty aloe.

“You’re too fucking tall for me to do this standing up…” you sighed, placing a single knee at the side of Luigi’s hip, leaning forward on your tip toes slightly.

“So sit,” he proposed, stretching his arms down to grab you by your hips and situate you on his lower torso.

“You’re too comfortable with me…” you chuckled, spreading the gel across his pecs and upper abs.

“I would be more comfortable in you, though…” he giggled before gasping in faux shock and pointing at you like you made the joke.

“EW! Cutie, why’d you say that!? Trying to prey on a man when he’s at his most vulnerable is NOT okay!” He scolded, failing to hide the smirk that pulled at the corners of his lips.

“Luigi, now is NOT the time,” you snickered, popping his fiery red pec in feigned retaliation.

He whined, grabbing your wrist immediately upon impact before screwing his eyes shut. If there was a more pathetic display in the world, it’d be waving a MAGA flag above its head.

“Stop, don’t be mean,” he pouted, instantly looking up at you through his half-lidded eyes. “Hakuna Matata, man.”

“Well then, be still and silent,” you giggled, squishing the fiery red skin that warmed his pectoral muscles, chuckling malevolently at his whined protests before his hand came to grasp both of your smaller wrists in his palm.

“Stop that,” he warned, pinching his brows at you with a slight glare.

“They’re so sculpted, though…” you pouted, watching as he slowly brought his upper body up off the couch to wrap an arm around the small of your back.

“That’s why I work out. But please, you’re killing me, sweetie, but thank you. I feel a lot better than before,” he smiled, swinging your wrists from side to side in his…incredibly large hand.

Have his hands always been this big? He’s almost always around you; how haven’t you noticed this before?

I mean, watching him swing my wrists around is kind of doing something…both wrists in one hand is kind of crazy. Like really fucking crazy, okay, Luigi’s actually really fucking big—

“Earth to Ocean base. Don’t faint on me please, we can’t afford a hospital trip…” he chuckled as worry reflected off of his widened eyes as he gave you a mix of a cocky and panicked smile.

You hadn’t even realized how much your eyes had widened, your now dilated pupils trailing after his hand that encapsulated your wrists. If you thought about it for just a little longer, you’d start to feel a little bit of drool dribble from your bottom lip.

“Yeah, I’m fine— totally cool. Gnarly, even,” you mumbled, fighting back a frown as Luigi slowly released your wrists.

He looked you up and down, eyes scanning over your form like he’d find the answer written somewhere in your genetic code. The salt-and-sea rusted cogs in his brain turned as he slowly brought his hand to the side of your face, comparing his large palm to the circumference of your facial structure.

“Ohhhhh,” he nodded, a slow grin forming on his face as he squished your cheeks together, pressing until your teeth offered pushback against his calloused fingers.

“What?” you asked, your heartbeat pressing against your ribs as she fought to break free and connect her arteries and veins to Luigi’s.

“Do you think I’m tall?” he blurted, not allowing you any time to give him an answer before his hand traveled to your jaw, gently tilting your head so you could look up at him.

“You think I’m scary?”

The words were deep and velvety, with a slick coating of honey that you rarely hear moisturize his normally warm and dry tone. A new star was born in his eyes, a twinkle that seemed to burn colder than the other constellations— it burned red.

“No…” you murmured, trying not to shiver as his other hand gently rubbed up and down your back. “I think I like it, actually.”

“You wanna know what else is big?” He chuckled, trailing the hand that caressed your spine up to your pretty blue bra strap.

The words that normally flooded your mouth and tongue evaporated with the heat of Luigi’s skin. The quick rebuttals no longer dripped with your saliva and wit— all that you could manage was a rather uncharacteristic nod.

“Sorry, I’m blind, I can’t hear you nodding,” he snickered, closing his eyes and placing both hands on your shoulders. Were they always this heavy?

“Luigi!” You huffed, crossing your arms in slightly dramatized frustration.

“Sorry, I’m blind, I can’t hear anything other than consent,” he rasped, his tone shifting to adapt an exaggerated surfer accent, curling every syllable on his tongue.

“I hate that you’re so respectful,” you sighed, dropping your head in bashful defeat. “I would like to learn what else of Luigi’s is also big.”

“See, that wasn’t hard…” he nodded, sliding your bra straps down your shoulders.

“Hope you don’t kick me out when I’m done with you,” he giggled boyishly, a light pink tint dusting the juicy apples of his cheeks. “Or that this doesn’t change anything between us.”

“It won’t, it’s fine,” you breathed— your tone wobbled and wiggled with tremulous anticipation as he lifted you off his lap momentarily to fix his shorts.

“Please keep that word; there’s still two months of summer,” he smiled, pecking your lips gently and gently rutting his hips up into yours.

You could feel him underneath you, twitching with anger as he made a desperate attempt to communicate with your womb through her white cotton shorts. Every time your hips dragged against his, you could almost feel the subtle bulge and flex of the veins that squiggled their way up to his tip.

He was huge— you knew that from the moment he became semi-hard underneath you. Almost like a tall can of coke shaking with internal pressure.

You had no idea how you even got this far— the mint and honey taste of his tongue passing through your lips served as a filthy reminder of the power this surfer exercised over you subconsciously. His form flexed to swallow yours whole, his strong arms wrapping around your back possessively as he put more force into your slow and sensual thrusts.

You were sure your panties were soaked through as he pulled breathy pants and whines from the back of your throat. The aloe that coated his arms and chest rubbed against your skin, shining your body like a halo that hung a little too low on your head.

“Can feel you soaking my trunks…” he taunted between momentary pants and breaks for air.

“Sorry,” you squeaked, letting him tug off your shorts before he reached for his swim trunks.

“Don’t apologize, it’s really fuckin’ hot,” he laughed, tugging the cheap nylon down just enough to let his heavy and eager dick spring free.

“I’m low-key about to wreck you, so hold my hand,” he instructed, gently intertwining his left hand with yours as you hovered over him.

His smile was contrastingly warm and innocent even though a monster was mere seconds away from stirring your guts. Your mind was filled with fog, your poor achy cunt throbbed with desperation, and you couldn’t seem to keep still.

“Chill, I got you,” he murmured, pressing his cheek against yours gently as he slowly sunk you onto him.

The stretch was unreal— bordering on slightly painful as he pried you apart slowly. He was massive in every context you could THINK of…not that you could even think while he speared you vertically.

Fresh tears pricked at your waterline, wet and salty like the waves he constantly tried to barrel himself in. Tears crashed down your face like how seafoam graced the tide, rising and falling with new tides as she pushed her waves forward inch by inch.

He’s lived through some hot climates– Hawai’i, California’s coast, Florida, and the Bahamas– but he’s never felt hotter than he has under you as you struggled to accommodate his size. The difference was borderline comical, but the way you gripped his warm shaft— and soon enough— his base, kept him from making it into a laughing matter.

“You’re too small for me… ’m gonna fucking snap you in half—!” he joked, gripping the expanse of your skin where your thighs connected with your hips.

You chuckled, a brief intermission that silenced your pathetic whines and pants, but only momentarily.

“Ah-! No, don’t do that, stop that,” he winced, feeling your walls clamp down on him even more.

“Sorry,” you giggled, doing your best to relax as he finally bottomed out.

“Good girl…” he grunted, kissing the wet and shiny tears away from your face. “I know, I’m huge, I’m sorry.”

He bucked his hips into you like he wasn’t just “impaired from pain” mere minutes ago. The whines and moans he managed to pull from you were sinful, and grotesque as he relished in the way your fat tears dribbled down your face.

His skin was hot against yours, his face was tucked firmly in the crook of your neck, and you shared oxygen like you shared everything

else as he created sticky and sloshy sounds that reverbed off of the paper-padded walls.

His hands were so strong…the way they flexed and twitched as he used your smaller frame like his own toy. It should be embarrassing or shameful, but there's no room for shame when all you can feel are your gummy walls pulsing around the key to euphoria.

“You feel so good…fuck,” he whined, the lads of his fingers bruising your hips as he slammed you down on his lap again and again.

You babbled incoherently in his ear, moaning and crying on top of him as his mouth panned down to suck your sensitive nipple into his mouth. If you could see the euphorically cocky grin on his face, you’d grimace from just how proud he seemed to be at this moment…it was like he had been waiting for this moment.

But you’d be wrong. He was proud, of course, but he had no intention of sleeping with you at all.

What would your relationship look like after? Would you kick him out and delete his number, or would you make way for a new section of romantic intimacy with him?

It didn’t matter. Whatever happens, happens.

“Gonna pull out,” he warned, sensing your fluttery walls seize around him as your moans grew more brittle and throaty.

You nodded frantically, your hands flying to his red, inflamed back, earning yourself a deep and gravelly yelp from Luigi.

“Fuck…!” He grunted, biting into your shoulder as you wet his length down to the base, leaving a pretty pearly ring around him.

He thrust up angrily, easing his pain by inducing your ecstasy before pulling you off of him and shooting stringy ropes of white onto your lower abdomen.

You panted, your vision clearing up gradually as you wiped your eyes. Luigi chuckled, pulling his swim trunks back on and setting you back on your bed.

“Thank you for helping me, cutie. You’re sooooo kind! Let’s go get smoothies or something.”

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