#can't even imagine what it was like to have one of his best friends leave and then suddenly be trans | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

satellite-evans · 15 days ago

Text

in his eyes

Pairing: Lando Norris x reader

Summary: it doesn't matter what people say on the internet, because Lando loves you.

Word count: 3.3k+

Warnings: giving birth, angst, fluff, insecurity, nasty people on the internet

A/N:

English is not my first language, so I apologize if I made any (grammar) mistakes. Feedback, requests, talks, vents, recommendations or just simple questions are always welcome.

Happy reading xxx

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site.

The room was still and peaceful. After hours of pain and screaming, it was finally quiet. You could hear the faint beeping of the heart monitor in the background, but it was as if everything else had faded away. In that sacred silence, your heart felt fuller than it ever had before.

Lando’s voice broke through the quiet again, but this time, it was a little more hesitant, as if he were trying to put words to the flood of emotions swirling in his chest. “I always dreamed of this moment... but seeing her here, in my arms... it’s so much more than I imagined.”

Your heart swelled at his words. You had always known how much he longed for this day—how much he dreamed of becoming a father. But to witness it, to see him holding their daughter with such reverence, was beyond anything you could have ever expected.

“She’s so tiny,” you whispered, leaning in a little closer to get a better look at the little girl in Lando’s arms. "It’s hard to believe she’s ours."

Lando nodded, his thumb gently stroking the baby’s tiny hand, his gaze never leaving her face. “I just want to protect her. I want to give her everything. She’s going to have the best life.”

You smiled, feeling tears well up in your eyes again. You had always known Lando was capable of deep love, but seeing him like this, seeing him so vulnerable, made you fall even deeper in love with him.

“I have no doubt, Lando,” you said softly. “She’s going to have everything she needs... and more.”

Lando turned his head toward you for the first time since he’d been holding their daughter, his eyes glistening with emotion. He smiled, a soft, loving smile that melted your heart. “I couldn’t have asked for a better partner. I can't believe she's mine as much as I can't believe I'm yours. We’re in this together.”

You reached out to gently stroke the side of his face, your thumb tracing the curve of his jaw. His words meant everything to you. There was no one else you’d rather share this moment, this journey, with. "I feel the same. You're going to be the best dad, Lando."

He leaned into your touch, closing his eyes for a moment. “I’ll try my best. I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure she’s happy.”

The quiet room filled with the sound of a small yawn from your daughter, followed by the soft rustling of blankets. Lando chuckled softly, clearly enchanted by the tiny noise. “She’s already got her own little personality, huh?”

You both laughed quietly, and the sound felt like music, the kind of sound that made everything else in the world feel right. “I think she’s definitely going to keep us on our toes.”

Lando nodded, but his eyes were still soft and full of awe. "I'm ready for that. As long as we’re together... we can handle anything."

Your heart fluttered as you looked at him, this man who had been your partner, your best friend, and now, the father of your child. There were no words to fully capture the depth of what you felt in that moment. All that mattered was that you were here, together, in this perfect little bubble of love with your daughter.

“She’s going to love you so much, Lando,” you whispered, your voice full of certainty.

He smiled at you, a rare vulnerability in his eyes as he gazed at their daughter again. “I already love her more than I ever thought possible.”

As the moments passed, the three of you simply existed in this space, letting the world outside the hospital room fade away. There was no rush, no need for anything other than this precious time you had together, letting the quiet joy of the moment fill every corner of your hearts.

Lando's voice was low and full of affection as he spoke again, almost as if to himself. “This... this is everything I’ve ever wanted. You, her... us.”

You nodded, pressing a soft kiss to his temple. "And we're just getting started."

The first few weeks after giving birth were a whirlwind of emotions, adjustments, and challenges. Your body was healing, and there were days when you felt overwhelmed by the exhaustion. Physical recovery was tough, and mentally, you wondered if you were doing enough. The sleepless nights, the constant feeding, the emotional rollercoaster—it was all a lot to process. But through it all, Lando was there.

You often found him hovering around you like a quiet guardian, making sure you were comfortable and had everything you needed. The first night you came home from the hospital, Lando insisted on taking the baby for a few hours to give you some rest. You were still recovering from the birth, and the thought of trying to breastfeed, soothe the baby, and manage the pain seemed overwhelming. But Lando stepped in without hesitation.

"I’ve got her, Y/N. You rest," he said, his voice soothing and steady as he gently took their daughter into his arms. You had to fight the urge to stay up, but you trusted him. You allowed yourself to close your eyes, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you slept soundly for a few hours, knowing your baby was safe and loved.

When you woke up, the sight that greeted you made your heart swell. Lando was sitting on the couch, holding the baby against his bare chest. His face, usually so focused and intense, was softened in a way you had never seen before. He gazed at her with such love and tenderness, whispering sweet words to her as she napped peacefully in his arms.

" I know I said it like a hundred times already but, she’s perfect, Y/N. Absolutely perfect," Lando had said, his voice barely above a whisper, as if he was afraid to disturb the serenity of the moment.

He made sure you didn’t feel the weight of the housework either. Whenever the dishes piled up, Lando was the one to wash them, even when he had been working on the simulator for hours or when the demands of his racing career were overwhelming. "I’ve got it. You just relax. You’ve done enough," he’d tell you. He even took on the responsibility of cooking, though you could tell his meals weren’t quite as delicious as when you were in charge. But it didn’t matter—what mattered was the effort, the care, the thoughtfulness he put into everything.

Lando was constantly reassuring you when you doubted yourself. He saw the way your shoulders would slump after a long day of caring for the baby, how the sleepless nights began to take their toll, and he’d be there to remind you that you were doing an amazing job. When you expressed how hard it was to adjust to motherhood and how difficult it felt to bounce back physically, Lando was quick to reassure you.

“You’re incredible. You brought life into the world, Y/N. That’s something amazing. You are enough,” he said with conviction, never once faltering in his support.

There were nights when the baby would cry, and Lando would take the lead, waking up to comfort her before you had even opened your eyes. He’d hold her, rock her gently, and whisper soft lullabies to her, making sure she felt safe and loved while you caught a few more hours of sleep. His patience was endless.

Sometimes, when you’d express that you didn’t feel like yourself, that you didn’t look like yourself, Lando would gently take your face in his hands, his eyes filled with love. “You’re the same Y/N I fell in love with. You’ll always be her. Nothing about you has changed, except maybe... you’re even more beautiful now,” he’d say with a warm, playful smile, easing the weight of your worries with his words.

Lando’s support wasn’t just physical—it was emotional, too. He never let you feel alone in this new chapter of your life. When you cried from the frustration of sleepless nights or the pressure of balancing it all, Lando would simply pull you into his arms. “I’m here, Y/N. We’re in this together,” he’d say, as you let the tears fall.

Even when you doubted whether you could be the kind of mother you imagined yourself to be, Lando believed in you completely. "I’ve never seen anyone do what you do with as much strength and love as you have. We’re a team," he’d remind you over and over again.

And he was right. He never let you feel like you were doing it alone. When you struggled, he didn’t hesitate to pick up the slack. Whether it was handling late-night feedings or changing diapers, he did it all with a quiet grace that made you admire him more than ever.

In those early weeks, as you both navigated the unfamiliar waters of parenthood, it became clear to you just how deeply Lando cared—not just for you, but for your little family. He did everything with the thought of making your life a little easier, even when he was running on empty himself.

"You’ve given me the greatest gift, Y/N," he told you one evening, after putting the baby to sleep. “And I’m so thankful for both of you.”

You reached for his hand, squeezing it gently. “I couldn’t do it without you.”

Lando smiled, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “You’ll never have to,” he promised. "I’m always going to be here."

And in that moment, you knew—you were never alone.

One sunny afternoon, you felt like you had enough energy to step outside. The last few weeks had been a blur of late nights, feedings, and tender moments with Lando and your baby. You loved every second of it, but you also needed a break, a small taste of normalcy. You had always enjoyed little walks and small outings with Lando, and today, you wanted to do something nice for him. He’d been so incredible, taking on the lion’s share of the care and support, and you wanted to return the favor.

So, you decided to walk to your favorite bakery. The idea was simple: get a couple of your favorite pastries as a treat for both of you. It would give you some fresh air and a little exercise, and you couldn’t wait to surprise Lando with something sweet. You’d always shared a love for pastries, and there was something comforting about going there alone, just to clear your mind for a while.

As you strolled down the street, the air felt crisp and refreshing. Your body was still adjusting, but with each step, you felt a bit more like yourself. It was the first time in a while that you didn’t feel overwhelmed, and you even caught yourself smiling at the thought of Lando, who was back at home taking care of the baby.

When you arrived at the bakery, you paused for a moment to take in the familiar, cozy atmosphere. The warm, inviting smell of freshly baked goods hit you, and you felt comforted by the thought of how much Lando would appreciate this little gesture. As you stood in line, your fingers fiddled with your phone, glancing at the screen before it was your turn to order.

“Hi, I’ll have two of the almond croissants and one of the chocolate eclairs, please,” you said, giving the cashier a friendly smile.

But then, as you stood there waiting for your order, you heard the sound of giggles behind you. You barely registered it at first, but then it came again—a group of girls, no older than your mid-twenties, talking and laughing loudly.

“You know, I saw Y/N out in public the other day…” one of them said, her voice dripping with that judgmental tone. “She’s huge now. Like, I know she had a baby, but how can she just let herself go like that?”

The other girls snickered in agreement. “Lando deserves someone better than her,” one of them added. “I mean, he could have anyone, right? Why stay with someone who just let themselves go like that?”

The words felt like a sharp slap to the chest, and for a moment, everything around you seemed to blur. You didn’t know whether to cry, shout, or just run out of the bakery. They weren’t whispering or trying to hide it—they were speaking loudly, thinking you wouldn’t hear. But you did. Every word stung.

You wanted to turn around and say something, to defend yourself, but instead, you kept your eyes on the counter, trying to hold it together as the cashier bagged your pastries. You could feel the heat rise to your face, the tears pricking at the back of your eyes. It had been so long since you’d felt self-conscious, and yet, their words dug up insecurities you had worked so hard to bury.

You paid for the pastries with a forced smile, muttering a polite “Thank you,” before quickly exiting the bakery. You had to get home. You needed to get away from the cruel laughter that still echoed in your ears.

Once you were back home, the door clicked shut behind you, and you stood there for a moment, taking in the quiet of the house. You set the pastries down on the kitchen counter, the warm scent of fresh-baked goods filling the air, but it did little to lift the weight that had settled in your chest. You could still hear the words from the bakery echoing in your mind, the sting of the comments, and the cruel judgments of people who didn’t know you or what you’d been through.

With a sigh, you rubbed your eyes, exhausted both physically and emotionally. Your heart was heavy, and it felt like everything was crashing down around you. Lando had been so caring, so supportive, and you didn’t want to burden him with this—it wasn’t fair to him. He had done so much to make you feel loved and beautiful, and here you were, doubting it all because of a few words from strangers.

You took a deep breath, trying to shake it off. You didn’t want to ruin this moment—this quiet, peaceful time at home with your family. So instead of seeking out Lando, you slipped quietly into the living room, phone in hand, and tried to lose yourself in something else.

You knew scrolling through social media wasn’t healthy—especially right now—but it felt like a distraction, something to fill the empty space in your mind. But the moment you unlocked your phone, it all came crashing in. The familiar blue light illuminated the room, but instead of calming you, it brought a flood of negativity.

The comments began to pour in, one after another, and with each notification, your chest tightened. The words were sharp, cruel.

"She’s disgusting." "Lando should dump her and find someone who takes care of themselves."

The comments continued to pile on, each one worse than the last. "Fat," "ugly," "why does she think she’s still worthy of him?" They cut through you like daggers, tearing into every insecurity, every vulnerability you’d tried so hard to hide. The words hit you harder than you could have imagined, and it felt like the air was being sucked out of your lungs. Your heart ached as your eyes filled with tears.

Before you knew it, the tears were flowing, and there was nothing you could do to stop them. The hurtful words from the bakery combined with the hateful comments made everything feel too overwhelming. You wiped your face quickly, but the tears wouldn’t stop.

It wasn’t long before you heard footsteps upstairs. Lando had gone up to check on the baby, and now, his soft footsteps echoed down the stairs as he walked back into the living room. When his eyes found you, his expression immediately shifted from calm to concern. His gaze locked onto your red, tear-streaked face, and he froze, clearly taken aback by the sight.

"Y/N…" he said softly, his voice full of worry as he rushed over to where you sat. "What’s wrong?"

You hesitated for a moment, trying to hide the phone in your lap, but he could see the pain in your eyes. He knelt down in front of you, gently taking the phone from your hand. You didn’t have the strength to say anything, so you simply let him read what was on the screen.

His face darkened immediately as he scanned the words. The anger was evident in the tightening of his jaw, the flare of his nostrils. “What the hell is this?” he asked, his voice sharp and protective. His fingers clenched the phone as his eyes lifted to meet yours, filled with disbelief and fury.

“These people… they don’t know anything about you. About us,” he muttered, shaking his head in disbelief. The softness in his expression faltered as he took in the full weight of your hurt. He sat down beside you, his arm wrapping around you and pulling you gently into his chest.

“Y/N…” he whispered again, his voice soft but full of conviction. “Listen to me. You are amazing. You gave me our beautiful daughter, and your body—your beautiful, strong body—did something incredible. You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever known. Inside and out.”

The words melted your heart, but it was still hard to fight the weight of the hurt. You sniffled, resting your face against his chest, your voice breaking. “But the comments… they’re right. I don’t look like I used to. I don’t—”

Lando pulled back just enough to tilt your chin up, his thumb gently wiping away a tear that had slipped down your cheek. “Don’t you dare,” he said, his voice soft but firm. “You’ve never looked more beautiful to me. Not once, not ever. You’re the woman I love. These people? They can say whatever they want, but they don’t get to decide how I see you.”

His words washed over you, and for the first time in what felt like forever, the tight knot in your chest began to loosen. He cupped your face gently in his hands, his eyes full of love as he whispered, “If all the women in the world gathered together and shouted it, they couldn’t ever suppress your whisper. You’re perfect, Y/N.”

A fresh wave of tears stung your eyes, but they weren’t from sadness this time—they were from the overwhelming love you felt in this moment. Lando leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there for a moment longer than usual.

“I’ll always see you for who you truly are,” he murmured, his voice full of warmth and tenderness. “And if they don’t see it… that’s their problem. But as for me? I’m right here, loving you more every day.”

You laughed softly through your tears, feeling the tension in your chest dissolve. Lando’s playful tone lifted your spirits even more. "And let’s be honest," he added with a cheeky grin, "even if all of them did shout, I’d still be right here. Loving you. And no one can change that."

The gentle teasing helped lighten your heart, and for the first time in hours, you felt a small flicker of hope. Lando was right. His love for you wasn’t based on anything as fleeting as looks. It was about who you were, what you’d been through together, and the life you’d created. No one could take that away.

Lando pulled you closer, pressing a soft kiss to your lips—gentle and reassuring, as if to seal the promise of his words. And for the first time since you left the bakery, you allowed yourself to believe it. You were enough. You were perfect, just as you were.

And you were loved, more than you could ever imagine.

1K notes · View notes

cuntyji · 1 month ago

Text

everyone’s talking about nerd gojo (thank you @to00fu for the meal), but what about nerd nanami? and i’m not talking about just any nerd nanami, im talking about letterboxd nerd! nanami —

who wears a “directed by quentin tarantino” tshirt under his suit because he's a bit embarassed about unironically liking this type of merch, and who actually reads through all the letterboxd published articles from cover to cover.

his profile is so organised and he leaves such beautifully written and critical reviews that people who read it go crazy and spam the review’s comments section with “who is this diva 😭” and “WHO LET BRO COOK 🗣️” (he doesn’t understand the meaning of these phrases, but yuuji told him they’re positive phrases so he lets them be).

he's very selective about who he follows — a few of his irl's do know he's on letterboxd, but when they ask him for his profile he does not bother entertaining them. it's not that he's ashamed of his profile or taste, he just likes to keep his irl's seperate from his online activity.

letterboxd nerd! nanami is heavily against piracy, and he refuses to opt for the “easy way out” when it comes to watching regional films. (he once took a flight all the way to paris on a weekday just to watch a movie that hadn't started international screening).

not to mention, he has a lot of friends that are directors, producers, script-writers, actors etc…it's not even a flex, he was genuinely the most supportive figure in their lives when they were starting out, and often times he gets free tickets or VIP passes to special movie screenings as a way of thanks.

letterboxd nerd! nanami is always one of the top three or five reviews in most trending movies on letterboxd, but imagine his horror when casual letterboxd user! reader bests his review and pushes him down to seventh place.

the horror.

and it's not even a “good” review, as nanami says — it's just a rant about how hot the cast is. and for some outrageous reason, everyone seems to be upvoting your poorly written review instead of his meticulously detailed review about the script writing, acting, soundtrack, camera angles…you get what i mean.

naturally, letterboxd nerd! nanami is pissed.

and he's even more so when he realizes that casual letterboxd user! reader doesn't even log films on the daily — no, it seems more like you just remember this app exists and then log in whatever you just watched. you didn't even bother putting up a profile picture up until yesterday. and why the hell have you rated most of the disney movies a 5/5? do you not know what an objective rating is?

letterboxd nerd! nanami, after stalking your watched list, prays you never come online to log your films again. he can't afford to be bested by you again. until he sees a notification that makes him groan out loud in annoyance —

y/ncore has started following you.

bonus: nerd gojo and letterboxd nerd! nanami are mutuals and close friends on letterboxd (under aliases of course), but both of them hate each other irl — nerd gojo mocks him for spending time on “lame” things like movies, while letterboxd nerd! nanami scoffs at his blatant attitude of “not appreciating cinema.”

2K notes · View notes

2uyi · 3 months ago

Text

ding! the sound that came from satoru's phone, making him snap out of his study– he picks up his phone and turns it on, who’s messaging him at this hour? surely it couldn’t be that important, right?

fuckass sent 1 image fuckass: looks like ur girl wants to be mine fuckass: game over lmao

satoru’s jaw immediately fell when he opened the messages from sukuna's, his thumb hovering over the download button on the image. if he opened it and it was a photo of you and sukuna, he swears he’ll kill that motherfucker–

his eyes widened, staring at the selfie of you and sukuna, your face washed with tiredness and your eyes barely open, your hair sticking to your face. his breathing now uneven. sweat slowly started to cover satoru's palms, what the fuck were you doing with sukuna of all people? satoru quickly swiped his phone over to your dms, his thumbs rapidly clicking on the phone's keyboard. sato: don't fucking play with me yn sato: why are you with sukuna sato: answer me | 10+ messages from sato on your side, as you were breathlessly moaning into sukuna's mouth, your tongue and his intertwining with each other– you hardly notice your phone go off multiple times, until sukuna grabbed it and turned it on, pulling away and earning a whine from you. "look at this," he started, holding up the phone to your face, "your loverboy's spamming you, 's rude to leave your best friend hanging, no?" sukuna forced your phone into your hands, satoru's texts open. you weakly type back a response with multiple typos, and one that you guarantee won't leave satoru satisfied.

yn: sry yn: texr me agaidnftrmrow you threw your phone away on the bed somewhere, quickly getting back into the makeout sesh you were having with sukuna. his face in your hands, both of your bodies sweaty and his jeans had a patch of your slick. "nasty ass girl. leaving your little boytoy to fuck with me." he said in between heavy breaths, you can only nod at his words– your mind too foggy to think of words. – on satoru's end, he finally caved in. he was fisting his dick vigorously, saying your name in gasps and whimpers; it feels so fucking wrong for him to beat it to you and his frenemy, but he can't help it– the thought of being able to watch you and sukuna get it on was so hot for no reason. his thoughts were getting out of hand, only being able to imagine you writhing under sukuna while he was watching, or even joining in with you two. after all, you could take both of them, right?

#bae writes ᝰ #۶ৎ bae drabble #sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #sukuna ryomen smut #sukuna smut #gojo x reader #gojo smut #satoru gojo x reader #gojo x you #jjk gojo #jjk sukuna #jjk smut

1K notes · View notes

5sospenguinqueen · 10 months ago

Text

Bedtime Stories | Daniel Ricciardo x Author! Reader

Summary: For the past six years, you've been dreaming of a future with Daniel. Until one silly little interview shatters every illusion.

Warnings: Swearing. Angst. Baby fever. End of a relationship. Daniel bashing.

Female reader with various faceclaims. Takes place in the 2022 season.

Main Masterlist

next.

━━━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━━━

User 2 no, it's not an announcement. her best friend is currently pregnant and she was gushing about looking forward to aunty duties

User 3 omg her and daniel would make the cutest babies though

→ User 4 i bet she can't wait until they have their own mini-me

User 5 imagine our rom-com queen going from writing the cutest but filthiest fiction imaginable to writing about why you should eat your carrots

━━━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━━━

22•05•22

User 6 i can't believe this man was talking about being in the height of his career when he's been nothing but a flop since leaving red bull

User 7 the way he's been stringing this poor woman along for 6 years, knowing how badly she wants children, to then decide in a random interview that he's never going to have kids because they would be a 'distraction'

User 8 fans spotted y/n running from the pits once she saw that daniel was safely done with racing

User 9 i fear we may be witnessing the downfall of something we once held sacred

━━━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━━━

16•06•22

fallontonight just posted

liked by YourUserName, kellypiquet and others

fallontonight did you know @ YourUser Name was once chased by a kangaroo? find out how in tonight's episode of The Tonight Show 📚🦘

4,477 comments

YourUserName thanks for having me! ✨

User 11 excuse me, ma’am, reassess what

User 12 daniel has been absent from her last 3 posts

→ User 1 not even in the likes or comments

→ User 2 and he didn't even congratulate her on the recent book launch

→ User 3 ya’ll are reaching. he's busy racing. she's busy doing book promo. they still follow each other

User 4 anyone notice she didn't look as happy as she usually does

→ User 5 yes! and i swear she got teary when talking about her life plans 🥺

━━━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━━━

YourUserName just posted

liked by maxverstappen1, mclaren and others

YourUserName my happy place 🌊🐚🦀 Aug '22

4,990 comments

User 6 does this mean a new book is coming soon

→ User 7 girl, we’ve just had one. let the woman rest

→ YourUserName sorry, my lovelies but i don’t think i'm in the right headspace to be writing a romance novel at this time

→ User 6 confirmation??!?!

→ User 7 we’re children of divorce

→ User 8 honestly fuck those two because i couldn’t have cared less about vroom vroom boys until mother started dating one and now i'm crying in class ‘cause they’re over

landonorris get that bread, queen 🍞

→ YourUserName who let you out of daycare

→ User 9 not y/n and lando interacting like she didn’t break his teammates heart

→ User 10 more like his teammate broke y/n’s heart. let's not make daniel out to be the victim here

kellypiquet p said get writing those children’s books so she can brag about aunty y/n to her friends

→ YourUserName my sweet girl. i saw the cutest dress the other day for her so I’ll pop round soon x

→ User 11 i love their friendship

→ User 12 get this woman a child. She’s too sweet to be stuck in cool aunt mode forever

User 13 anyone notice she didn't do her annual birthday post for daniel?

━━━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━━━

04•09•22

User 14 no because the interviewer was so real for that. checo has a few children and he’s currently 2nd best. max is nowhere to be seen on the grid he's that far ahead and he makes sure p is his priority when she’s there so???

→ User 15 and the way he stormed out. i bet PR are sooo happy with him

User 16 nah because mclaren recently announced that they’re not extending his contract so he currently doesn't have his seat and doesn't have his y/n, all because he thought he was better than that

YourUserName posted a new story

danielricciardo posted a new story

━━━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━━━

danielricciardo just posted

liked by landonorris, estebanocon and others

danielricciardo yesterday was something. p17 wasn't the result we were expecting, and the media were a challenge but it's always a delight to be in Suzuka. Moving on to the Americas

5,509 comments

User 1 maybe if y/n was there, you wouldn't have done so badly

User 2 maybe if he had a baby waiting in the paddock he would’ve had more incentive to do better

mclaren we’ll get them next time 💪

User 3 letting mclaren and lando down

→ User 4 the real reason he and y/n broke up is because he has no wins. she should move onto lando or something

→ User 5 he’s way too young for her

→ User 4 they'd make a good looking couple tho

(comments have been disabled for this post)

━━━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━━━

19•10•22

YourUserName just posted

liked by charles_leclerc, bloomsburypublishing and others

YourUserName thirty, flirty and thriving. please enjoy a small snippet of my 30th birthday, organised by my favourite girl. these are the nice moments before she plies me full of cocktails and i become the sloppiest person in monaco tagged: kellypiquet

kellypiquet any chance to celebrate you 🤍🤍

→ kellypiquet and an even better chance to drink the entire bar and force max to carry us home

→ maxverstappen1 i'm just glad i was able to pull you both out of the sea before you drowned

landonorris can't believe you tried (and failed) to stop us from gatecrashing

→ YourUserName it was an exclusive event, we don't let randos in

→ landonorris i know you're joking but it still hurts my feelings

maxverstappen1 happy birthday, sloppy. you don't look a day over 40

→ YourUserName i'm gonna let that slide but only because i love the bag that kelly told you to buy

User 7 happy birthday to the best author

User 8 happy birthday queen

carlossainz55 happy birthday, y/n 💐

liked by YourUserName

danielricciardo happy birthday x

User 5 kelly and y/n look like the funnest people to hang out with

→ User 6 literally need to know how to become part of their duo

lewishamilton happy birthday, y/n. have a lovely night 💕

liked by YourUserName

mclaren happy birthday to papaya's favourite author (we're still waiting for a racing rom-com that is quite clearly about your favourite f1 team and their super sexy admin) 🥳🥳

liked by YourUserName

Request are open!

Baby Fever Angst Series

3K notes · View notes

allyricas · 2 months ago

Text

imagine if eddie never got caught up in the upside down stuff in season 4. all the same people are still vecna'd, but chrissy never sought out eddie for drugs at school that day so he is oblivious to everything going on.

maybe he spends spring break playing music with the guys and getting drunk in the back of his van.

or, better yet, he's not even in town at all. he and the other members of corroded coffin are in indy for battle of the bands.

in fact, he literally has no clue what happened until he sees the news about the earthquake and he rushes back to make sure uncle wayne is alright. he's freaking out because when he calls his trailer numerous times, no one answers. he tries calling the plant to look for his uncle and they say he didn't show up to work.

chrissy was too intimidated to seek him out at school even in the privacy of the woods, so instead later that evening she goes to the trailer to look for him. she still gets vecna'd and the trailer becomes a gate.

eddie is never a suspect since he has a verifiable alibi. wayne still finds chrissy's body the next morning and still helps by telling nancy about henry creel. he can tell the teens are about to do something reckless and dangerous so he gets involved and ends up in the upside down instead of eddie.

he turns out to be very handy with various weapons and has a mind for battle strategy thus the party having a much better plan.

they win this time. steve gets really hurt, like nearly dies. wayne is the one who carries him out of the upside down and helps make sure he doesn't bleed out. they form a bond and wayne refuses to leave his side at the lab.

which is why eddie can't get ahold of him.

imagine eddie rushing back into hawkins only to eventually find out chrissy cunningham died on the porch of his trailer and that no one's heard from his uncle in days. he finds out from dustin that his uncle is at the hospital standing vigil over steve harrington's bedside, of all freaking people.

wayne looks pretty roughed up, but he's safe and he's okay. eddie is so relieved to see him with his own eyes that the reality of everything doesn't really sink in.

after everything is settled, the government compensates wayne with a new home. everything could have been a lot worse were he not involved and the earthquake split the trailer in two.

it's nothing fancy, just a three bedroom home on a nice plot of land. it's cosy and there's room for a fire pit in the backyard, maybe even a garden and a chicken coop. wayne manages to make anywhere feel like home, but this place has a certain charm.

once steve is well enough to go home, wayne all but insists that steve comes home with him and eddie. wayne tells steve he has a permanent home with him, that they're family. for once in his life, steve let's himself be loved and taken care of by an adult. wayne is everything his parents could never be.

wayne's heard all about steve's parents, noted that they never showed up to see their son and wayne doesn't want steve rotting alone in his big house. wayne always had a habit of picking up strays after all.

the problem with the situation is, of course, that eddie doesn't like steve. in fact, he absolutely cannot stand him and does not understand why his uncle is suddenly so close with him.

he steadfastly believes in his munson doctrine and has no plans to reevaluate. steve is a douchebag jock. in his mind, there's no way he has actually changed into this funny, dorky man who hangs out with his uncle for fun and drives around the younger teens just because he likes them.

he can't actually be best friends with band nerd robin buckley or close to his ex and her boyfriend. he can't be the man who put his body in front of someone else's. he can't be the man who smiles softly at eddie while he makes his snarky comments and refuses to budge and inch on his dislike.

steve harrington who helps his uncle plant a garden and build his chicken coop. who cooks and bakes far better than some rich kid should be able to. who asks about his band and hellfire and his books. who is far funnier than he has any right to be.

so, eddie is all snarky comments and rolled eyes every time he comes home to wayne and steve watching a game together. he is so jealous and can't say anything since wayne adores the guy...and since steve almost died.

he pretends that all the things he's learning about him must be a trick or a lie. steve can't be this person who fits so seamlessly into his life. even the other members of his band warm up to him

eddie will not budge. nope. never.

wayne knows his nephew. knows that eddie would like steve if he just gave him a chance. watches the way his nephew watches steve and waits for the day the eddie realizes what he thinks is loathing is a lot closer to something else. he loves the boy, but knows what a stubborn ass he can be.

steve likes eddie immediately and thinks he's adorable. he thinks eddie is cute when he's annoyed, enjoys the way he huffs and rolls his eyes. he is content to wait for eddie to catch up. he and wayne gossip over coffee and the subject has come up a time or two (or many) and wayne insists that eddie will figure it out eventually.

imagine a world where eddie never gets involved with the upside down but wayne does. even in this world he and steve are inevitable. wayne sees it the minute he watches them interact the first time in the hospital. he has a feeling they'd have found their way to each other somehow. he knows steve was meant to be apart of their family.

#steddie #uncle wayne is the best #wayne munson #steve harrington #eddie munson #had this in my drafts for a while

1K notes · View notes

joelmillerisapunk · 10 months ago

Text

Dbf!Joel Miller x f!reader

Masterlist

Wordcount: 7,103 - oops

Summary: When Joel accidentally stumbles upon your only fans he convinces himself he's only subscribing to help you through college. And then you send him his top-tier subscriber personal video and he's fucked because you don't even know it's him your dad's best friend.

Warnings: 18+, reader has an only fans, unprotected p in v, f!andm! oral receiving, age gap (at least 10 years), reader is in her 20's, alcohol consumption, there's a dick pic, reader posts nudes of herself on her OF so if you do not like that please scroll awaaaaaay thanks <3 two consenting adults.

Notes: I listened to Espresso by Sabrina Carpenter a hundred too many times and couldn't sleep on this random idea. I got carried away, this was supposed to be a short one-shot and then I fell in love and married the idea so here we are. Tysm @saradika-graphics for the divider.

Joel’s never been on a site like this.

But his best buddy's enthusiasm was infectious. Convincing him that it's all the hype, ‘You should see the women on there man.’ So, after a long day at work, followed by a shower, he is perched in front of his computer, the screen's glow illuminating his skepticism.

With a deep breath, he navigates to the website, his fingers poised hesitantly over the keys. He starts scrolling through the front page, taking in the various content that is being shared. It's all very different from anything he's ever seen before, but he can see why his friend is so excited about it.

As he continues scrolling Joel's eyes widen in surprise. There you are right on the front page, not too far from the top, his friend's daughter, exuding confidence in a bikini and a sexy little pose, the very picture of carefree youth.

Denial is his first reaction as he quickly minimises the page, not believing he just saw that. It couldn't have been you. No way. But curiosity, that relentless beast, coaxes him back to the screen. The second glance confirms it; it's undeniably you, and the realization sends a jolt through him. He clicks on your profile, the rabbit hole beckoning.

His heart races as he sees more and more photos of you. Wearing lingerie in some of them, and bikinis in others, but never anything less. Then he finds the section with your paid content, looming like a forbidden fruit. The greyed-out thumbnails tease his imagination. He notices that he has to pay to see them and his mind races. What kinda stuff you got hidin’ here pretty girl?

Joel stops for a moment, unsure if he should really pay to see hidden content but before he can talk himself out of it, he enters his payment information, the justification that he is supporting you echoes hollowly in his mind. He clicks "subscribe." As soon as he does, the greyed-out photos become clear, and Joel's eyes widen in shock. He can't believe what he's seeing. You, completely naked, posing in a way that leaves nothing to the imagination.

He feels a mix of emotions - excitement, guilt, confusion. He knows he shouldn't be looking at these photos, but he can't help himself. He tells himself that it's just for a few minutes, just to see what's there. That he's just being curious, that he's just supporting you. But deep down, he knows that's not the whole truth and he knows that he'll be coming back to these photos again and again.

For now, though, he tells himself that it's okay. He's just satisfying his curiosity, and he's supporting his friend's daughter at the same time. He tells himself that it's a win-win situation, and he settles back in his chair to enjoy the photos. But as he scrolls through the photos, he can feel himself getting more and more aroused. He starts to rub his cock through his pants, and before long, he's jerking off to the images on the screen. knowing that he's doing something wrong but unable to stop himself.

Just as he's about to come, he gets a message from the website. It's from you, and you're thanking him for subscribing to the highest tier, where he gets a personal video from you.

Joel's heart races as he reads the message, wondering if you know it's him. But as he reads on, he realizes that you don't. You're just being friendly, asking him what he'd like to see you do or say in a personal video.

Joel pauses, wrestling with the decision. The offer is tantalizing, and he can feel the pull of his curiosity. He rationalizes that it's merely a harmless video, an extra indulgence. With a mix of excitement and trepidation, he convinces himself that there's no harm in satisfying his curiosity just this once.

Joel takes a deep breath and types out a reply to you, asking if you could wear a school girl uniform in the video. He feels a twinge of guilt for asking, but he can't help being curious what you would look like in one and how he would feel bending you over his knee in one.

—

A few days later, Joel receives a notification that his personal video is ready to be viewed. He takes his time, feeling guilty all over again but evidently he clicks on the link and waits for the video to load.

When the video starts, he's greeted with the sight of you, wearing a plaid skirt and a white blouse, looking as sexy as ever. You start to unbutton your blouse, revealing a lacy bra underneath. Joel feels his face flush with heat as he watches you, his heart pounding in his chest.You continue to tease him, running your fingers through your hair and biting your lower lip. Joel can feel himself getting more and more aroused, his cock straining against his pants.

Finally, you slip out of your skirt and bra, revealing your naked body underneath. Joel watches in amazement as you pose. And if that wasn't enough then you started talking to him, looking directly into the camera and speaking in a sultry voice. "Hi there, cowboy," you say, a playful smile on your lips. "I hope you're enjoying the video so far. I know I'm enjoying making it for you."

You run your hands over your body, caressing your breasts and your hips. "Do you like what you see?" you ask, your voice dripping with suggestion. "I've been thinking about you. Wondering what you're doing right now. Are you touching yourself? Are you thinking about me?"

You lean closer to the camera, your eyes sparkling with mischief. "I've been thinking about you too, baby. Wondering what it would be like to be with you. To feel your hands on my body."

You sit down on a black spinning chair, manoeuvring your legs so youre on full display for the camera, your fingers find your clit. "I'm so wet for you, daddy.” You moan out.

You start to touch yourself in earnest, your fingers moving faster and faster. "M’so close," you say, your breath coming in short gasps. "I want you to come with me. I want you to feel what I'm feeling. I want you to come for me daddy."

You throw your head back and moan, your body shudders with pleasure. "Yes, daddy. Yes! I'm coming so hard for you."

As the video comes to an end, you look back at the camera, your eyes shining with satisfaction. "I hope you enjoyed that, cowboy, can't wait to see what we do next.”

As the video comes to an end, Joel can't believe what he's just witnessed. He feels his orgasm building up inside of him, and before he knows it, he's coming in his pants - just from watching you.

As he looks back at the screen, he sees that there's a message waiting for him from you. You're thanking him for watching the video and asking if he enjoyed it. Damn you're quick with these messages. He didn't even know you could tell he watched it.

He stares at the screen for a moment unsure what to say

cowboy_jm: Yeah, I really enjoyed it. Thanks for making it for me darlin.

He hits send, feeling so awkward and out of his element. He hasn't flirted with another woman in ages and the fact you're at least ten years younger than him doesn't make it any easier.

A few moments later, he gets a reply from you.

you: I'm glad you enjoyed it, cowboy 😘 I had a lot of fun making it for you. Do you want to see more?

He shouldn't, he should just shut his computer down and cancel the membership later. But he can't, he can't help himself.

cowboy_jm: Yeah, I'd like that.

You send him a picture, and he feels his heart race as he opens it. It's a selfie of you, wearing the plaid skirt and white blouse from the video, with a playful smile on your lips.

you: Here's a little something extra for you, cowboy. I hope you like it. 😏

You can't do this for every top tier subscriber, could you? Then again the price tag did promise a lot more than the others did. Maybe not a lot of people were desperate enough to need to be talked up by a pretty little thing like you. But damn was he enjoying it.

cowboy_jm: Wow, you look absolutely stunning in that outfit. I could get used to seeing you like this.

You: Oh, I bet you could. 😉 You know, I've always wanted to ride a cowboy... or his horse.

Joel feels his face flush with heat as he reads your message. He can't believe you just said that, but he's also incredibly turned on. He's never had a conversation like this before, but he's finding that he really enjoys it.

cowboy_jm: Well, I'm sure we can work something out. I've got a pretty big horse.

you: Oh, I bet you do. I've always been a fan of big horses. Maybe one day I'll get to ride yours.

cowboy_jm: You can ride my horse anytime you want, darlin'. I promise you won't be disappointed.

you: I can't wait.

As the conversation comes to a close, Joel feels a sense of dread wash over him. He knows he's made a mistake. He tells himself that he'll figure something out later.

—

As you close your laptop, a thrill of excitement runs through you. The conversation has been so thrilling, so charged with flirtation and innuendo. You can tell whoever is behind this cowboy profile is probably a little older and not too experienced on a site like this.

You decide to do a little more digging before sending him anything else. You navigate to his profile, curious to learn more about this mysterious cowboy who's captured your interest. As you scroll through his vague faceless pictures and read his bio, your heart skips a beat. The realization hits you like a ton of bricks: "cowboy_jm" is none other than Joel Miller, your dad's best friend. The one coming over tomorrow for a BBQ

The shock is palpable. You've known Joel your entire life. He's been a constant presence at family barbecues, holiday gatherings, and birthday parties. The thought of him seeing your content, let alone subscribing to your highest tier, is both mortifying and exhilarating. You can't help but feel a twinge of guilt, but it's quickly overshadowed by a surge of mischievous excitement. The idea of playing a game with Joel, of having this secret, is too tempting to pass up. You decide to have a little fun with the situation. After all, he's the one who's been flirting with you, who's been watching your videos and messaging you. You tell yourself that he's a willing participant in this little charade.

With a playful smile, you decide to up the ante. You want to see just how far Joel is willing to go. You open up your messaging app and start typing.

you: Hey cowboy, I was just trying to get to sleep but need a little help. How about how about you send me a little something? 😉

You hit send and wait for his response. You know you're playing with fire, but you can't help yourself. You want to see if he's really as adventurous as he's been pretending to be. As you wait for his reply, you can't help but feel a sense of power. You're in control of this situation, and you're going to enjoy every minute of it. You know you should probably feel guilty for manipulating Joel like this, but the thrill of the game is too intoxicating.

Finally, your notifications go off, and you see a new message from Joel. You take a deep breath and open it.

cowboy_jm: Oh? And what did you have in mind, darlin'?

you: Well, I was thinking... maybe you could send me a little something to hold me over until I can have that ride. 😉

You hold your breath, waiting for his response. You're not sure if he'll go for it, but you're hoping he will.

cowboy_jm: I don't know, darlin'. I'm not sure if that's such a good idea.

you: Oh, come on, cowboy. I promise I'll make it worth your while. 😏

cowboy_jm: Well, I suppose I could make an exception... just this once.

You feel a surge of excitement as you read his message. You can't believe he's actually going to do it!

cowboy_jm: But you have to promise me something, darlin'. You have to promise that this stays between us. I don't want anyone else seein’

what I'm about to send you.

you: Oh, I promise. I won't tell a soul. 😉

cowboy_jm: Alright, darlin'. Here it is. 😘

As you gaze at the image Joel has sent, your breath hitches in your throat. The sight of his cock is both surprising and incredibly arousing. It's clear that he's not a young man, the maturity of his body is evident in the thick, veined shaft that stands proudly in the photo. The girth of it makes your fingers twitch with the desire to touch it, to feel its weight in your hands.

The skin is a rich, deep pink, stretched taut over the hardness beneath. The head is broad and flushed with a deeper hue, a bead of moisture glistening at the tip, hinting at his arousal and the urgency of his need. You can't help but imagine how it would feel inside you, filling you completely, the friction of his thrusts igniting a fire within your core.

You can't deny the beauty of his cock. It's a testament to his virility, to the raw, primal power that he possesses. The soft, dark and grey hair at the base contrasts with the smoothness of the shaft, adding to the visual feast before your eyes.

You feel a warmth spreading through your body, a heat that pools between your legs as you continue to admire the photo. The thought of having such a magnificent cock at your disposal, of being able to pleasure and be pleasured by it, sends a shiver of anticipation down your spine.

Taking a moment to compose yourself, you type out a response

you: Wow, cowboy. You didn't have to send me something so... impressive. 😏 you've definitely exceeded my expectations. I can't wait to see it in person.

You hit send before you can second-guess yourself, the thrill of the forbidden fueling your boldness. You know you're playing a dangerous game, but the allure of the unknown, the promise of untold pleasures, is too potent to resist.

As you wait for his reply, you can't help but touch yourself, your fingers slipping beneath the waistband of your panties to find the slickness that has gathered there. You imagine it's his hand, his fingers expertly coaxing you towards release, and the thought is enough to make you moan softly into the quiet of your room.

cowboy_jm: I'm looking forward to it too, darlin'. More than you know.

You can sense the anticipation in his messages, and it matches your own.

you: Well, I better let you go, cowboy. I've got a lot to do before bed. But I'll be thinking about you... and your impressive horse. 😉

cowboy_jm: Haha, I'll be thinking about you too, darlin'. Take care, and I'll see you soon.

As the evening winds down, Joel finds himself unable to shake the conversation from his mind. The image of you in that schoolgirl outfit, the sound of your voice as you called him 'daddy', the thrill of exchanging messages with you—it all feels like a dream, a forbidden fantasy come to life. He tries to focus on other things, but his thoughts keep drifting back to you.

The next day, Joel wakes up with a sense of nervous anticipation. He's supposed to go over to your dad's house and the thought of it sends a jolt of adrenaline coursing through his veins. He tries to push the thoughts of your online interactions out of his mind as he gets ready, reminding himself that he's just going over to hang out with his friend. But the image of you in that plaid skirt keeps creeping back into his thoughts, making it hard for him to concentrate on anything else.

—

As he pulls into the driveway, he takes a deep breath, steeling himself for what's to come. He walks up to the front door, his heart pounding in his chest. Your dad greets him with a firm handshake and a warm smile, completely oblivious to the secret between his best friend and his daughter. When he walks in he notices you're nowhere in sight, and can't decide if he's relieved or disappointed.

Your dad and Joel make small talk for a few minutes before your dad excuses himself to take a phone call, leaving Joel alone in the living room. And as if on queue you walk into the room with a confident stride, wearing the same plaid skirt from the video and a tight-fitting white blouse. You greet him with a playful smile, your eyes twinkling with mischief

"Hey, Joel," you say, your voice dripping with sweetness. "Can I get you something to drink?”

Joel feels his face flush with heat as he tries to maintain his composure. "Hey there, darlin', uh sure," he replies, trying to keep his voice steady. "You're looking... very nice today.”

You giggle and do a little twirl, the skirt flaring out slightly to give him a glimpse of your thighs. "Why, thank you," you say, batting your eyelashes at him. "You're looking pretty good yourself.”

Before he can say anything else you walk over to the fridge and bend over to grab a couple of drinks, your skirt rides up to reveal a glimpse of your bare pussy, so perfect and fuckable.

You hand him a beer and wink at him, your lips curling into a seductive smile. "Enjoy the view?”

Joel takes the beer from you, his hand shaking slightly. He can feel his heart pounding in his chest, his mind filled with images of you from the videos and the messages you've exchanged. He knows that he should excuse himself, that he should leave before things go any further, but he can't seem to tear himself away from you.

Just then, your father walks back into the room, oblivious to the tension between you. "Hey, Joel," he says, clapping him on the back. "I'm glad you could make it. Let's head out to the backyard. I've got the grill fired up.”

Joel nods and follows him outside, grateful for the distraction.

As the afternoon sun casts a warm glow over the backyard, Joel tries to focus on the conversation at hand, but his gaze keeps drifting back to you. The skirt you're wearing teases him with its familiarity, a tangible reminder of the illicit videos he's watched late at night, alone in the darkness of his room. The way the fabric swishes around your thighs as you move—it's enough to make his head spin and his heart race in his chest.

You seem to revel in his discomfort, your eyes sparkling with mischief every time you catch him staring. You're the perfect picture of innocence and seduction, flipping burgers on the grill, laughing at your dad's corny jokes, all the while subtly taunting Joel with your every move.

With each playful glance, each coy smile, you're pulling him deeper into your web, ensnaring him with the promise of forbidden pleasures. And Joel, for all his attempts at normalcy, can't help but be drawn in.

He reaches for another beer, the cool bottle a welcome relief from the heat that seems to be building inside him. The alcohol loosens his inhibitions, making it easier to laugh at your dad's anecdotes, to join in on the conversation, even as his mind is elsewhere, consumed by thoughts of you.

As night approaches and the drinks continue flowing, your dad’s found his limit. He stands up from his lawn chair with a contented sigh. "Well, I think it's time for this old man to hit the hay," he announces, stretching his arms above his head. "You two kids have fun, but not too much fun, alright? Make sure you take the guestroom Joel."

You flash him a cheeky grin, the corners of your eyes crinkling with amusement. "Don't worry, Dad. We'll be good," you assure him, your gaze flicking briefly to Joel, who's suddenly found something incredibly interesting on the bottom of his beer bottle.

As your dad disappears into the house, the air between you and Joel grows charged with anticipation. The playful banter, the secret glances traded throughout the evening have led to this moment, where the unspoken promise of something more hangs heavy in the air.

The stars above twinkle with a knowing light, as if privy to the secret that simmers just beneath the surface. The night, once a backdrop to a casual gathering, now feels like an intimate cocoon, sheltering the two of you from the outside world.

Joel, with his guard lowered by the evening's camaraderie and the remnants of alcohol in his system, finds himself adrift in the sea of your gaze. The laughter and casual conversation that filled the air earlier has given way to silence.

You lean back in your chair, your eyes locked on Joel's and a mischievous smile paints your lips. "You know, Joel," you say, your voice low and teasing, "I've been thinking about our little chat yesterday."

Joel's heart skips a beat. "Oh? And what chat would that be, darlin'?" he asks, trying to keep his voice steady.

You lean forward, your eyes sparkling with excitement. "The one where you told me all about your - impressive horse," you say, your voice dripping with innuendo.

Joel nearly chokes on his beer, caught off guard by your boldness. He coughs and sputters, his face turning a shade of red that has nothing to do with the alcohol. "I... uh... “he stammers, his eyes darting nervously in the direction of the house. Joel feels the color drain from his face, his palms growing sweaty. He had hoped that the anonymity of the internet would keep his secret safe, but now, as he looks into your knowing eyes, he realizes that you've seen right through him this entire time. "I... uh... I'm not sure what you're talkin’ about," he stammers, his gaze darting nervously around the backyard.

You laugh, a soft, melodic sound that sends a shiver down Joel's spine. "Oh, come on, cowboy," you say, using his nickname on the site. "You don't have to be so shy about it."

Joel's eyes widen in shock, and he feels his face flush with heat. "How did you-?" he begins, but you cut him off with a wave of your hand.

"Let's just say I have my ways," you reply, your smile widening. "what's the matter? You look like you've seen a ghost.”

Joel runs a hand through his hair, his mind reeling. He had never imagined that his online interactions with you would spill over into the real world, and he's not sure how to handle the situation. "I just... I didn't think you knew it was me," he admits.

You lean back in your chair, your gaze never leaving his. "Well, I did some digging, and let's just say your profile picture was a bit of a giveaway," you say, a hint of amusement in your voice.

Joel feels his face grow even hotter, if that's possible. He had been so careful, so cautious, and yet, here he is, exposed and vulnerable.

"What's the matter, Joel? Scared?"

“It's not that, darlin'," he replies, his voice barely above a whisper. "It's just... complicated."

"Life's complicated, cowboy," you say, your voice steady and sure. "But sometimes, you've just got to take the reins and ride it out.”

Before he can respond, you stand up and extend your hand towards him, a silent invitation to follow you into the unknown. Joel hesitates for a moment, his mind racing with the potential consequences of what he's about to do and what you could possibly be offering. But in the end, desire wins out over caution, and with a resigned sigh, he places his hand in yours.

You lead him through the quiet house, your footsteps muffled by the plush carpeting. As you reach the guest room, you pause and turn to face him, your hand resting on the doorknob.

"This is where you'll be sleeping tonight, cowboy," you say, your voice barely above a whisper. "But remember, I'm just down the hall if you need anything.”

With that, you give him a playful wink and disappear down the hallway, leaving him standing there, his heart pounding and his mind filled with images of what he thought was going to happen and what might happen if he takes you up on your offer.

—

The next morning, Joel wakes up with a slight headache, the sunlight streaming in through the curtains. He sits up in bed, rubbing his temples, and tries to piece together the events of the previous night. His mind is foggy from the alcohol, but the memory of you in that skirt is crystal clear.

He gets up and stumbles out of the guest room, his bare feet padding against the cool hardwood floor. He's still half-asleep, his thoughts are muddled and disoriented, and in his groggy state, he accidentally turns the wrong way down the hallway.

Before he knows what's happening, he finds himself standing in the doorway of your bedroom. The door is slightly ajar, and through the crack, he can see you lying on the bed, your legs spread wide, your hand buried between your thighs. You're completely lost in the moment, your eyes are closed and your lips are parted in a silent moan. You're wearing a thin pair of panties.

Joel's heart stops in his chest as he watches you, his breath catches in his throat. He knows he should turn around and leave, but he can't seem to tear himself away. He's transfixed by the sight of you, the way your body moves, the soft, needy sounds you make as you touch yourself.

And then, as if sensing his presence, your eyes flutter open. For a moment, you just stare at him, your gaze filled with surprise and desire. But instead of stopping, instead of pushing him away, you moan his name, your voice husky and full of need.

“Joel," you whisper, your fingers still moving in slow, deliberate circles. "I've been waiting for you."

Joel feels a jolt of electricity shoot through his body, his cock hardening in his boxers. He steps into the room, his movements slow and hesitant, and you beckon him closer with a curl of your finger.

"Come here, cowboy," you purr, pulling your panties to the side to give him a better view.

Joel's mind is a whirlwind of emotions as he steps toward the bed, his body acting on instinct despite the lingering doubts in his mind. He's acutely aware of the line he's about to cross, yet, the sight of you, so wanton and unashamed, is an irresistible siren call that he cannot ignore.

He reaches the edge of the bed, his eyes locked on the intimate display before him. The scent of your arousal fills the air, a heady perfume that makes his head spin. He watches as you continue to pleasure yourself, your fingers dancing over your clit with practiced ease, your hips bucking in response to your own touch.

"Touch me, Joel," you beg, your voice trembling with need. "I need to feel you inside me.”

Joel swallows hard, his hands shaking as he reaches out to touch you. His fingers graze your inner thigh, the skin soft and warm beneath his touch. With a gentleness that belies the hunger in his eyes, Joel slides your panties down your legs, exposing you fully to his gaze. He takes a moment to appreciate the sight before him—your pussy glistening with arousal.

Joel positions himself between your thighs, his gaze never leaving yours as he lowers his head to taste you. The first touch of his tongue to your heated core elicits a sharp gasp from you, your body arching off the bed in response to the sudden sensation.

"Oh, God, Joel," you moan, your fingers tangling in his hair as he begins to explore you with his mouth. His tongue traces the contours of your pussy, each stroke sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body.

He takes his time, savoring the taste of you, the feel of your body responding to his touch. His hands slide under your hips, pulling you closer, his tongue delving deeper into your depths. You can feel the tension building inside you, a coil of desire winding tighter with each passing moment.

"You taste so fuckin good, darlin'," Joel growls, his voice muffled by your flesh. He can feel your body trembling beneath him, your moans growing louder and more insistent as he continues his ministrations.

You're lost in a sea of sensation, your world narrowed down to the relentless rhythm of his tongue and the feel of his hands on your body. "I'm close, Joel," you gasp, your body tensing as the first waves of your orgasm begin to crest. "So close..."

With a final flick of his tongue, Joel sends you tumbling over the edge. Your body convulses as the orgasm rips through you, your muscles clenching around his tongue as you cry out his name. The pleasure is almost too much to bear, a white-hot surge of ecstasy that leaves you breathless and shaking.

As the aftershocks subside, Joel crawls up the bed to lie beside you, his body humming with need. You turn to face him, your eyes heavy-lidded with satisfaction, a sated smile playing on your lips. "That was... perfect," you murmur, your hand reaching down to stroke his rock-hard erection through his boxers. "But now it's your turn, cowboy."

Before Joel can respond, you're pushing him onto his back and deftly pulling down his boxers to free his straining cock. You lean down to take him in your mouth, your tongue swirling around the head of his cock, your hand pumping the shaft in time with your movements. Joel groans, his hands fist the sheets as you work your magic on him. He can feel the pressure building in his balls, the telltale tingling that signals the approach of his orgasm. "Fuck, darlin'," he grunts, his body tensing.

“You're gonna make me come.”

You pull back, releasing him from your mouth with a wet pop. "Not yet," you say, a wicked gleam in your eye. "Wanna take that ride.” You straddle him, your hand guiding his cock to your entrance. You sink down onto him with a moan and your body stretches to accommodate his girth. Joel grips your hips, his eyes locked with yours as you begin to ride him, your movements are slow and deliberate.

The sensation of being inside you is almost too much for Joel. He can feel every inch of your tight, wet pussy as you move on top of him, your breasts bouncing with each thrust. "You feel so fucking good, darlin', so fuckin good,” he groans as his hands move to cup your breasts.

You lean forward letting your lips brush against his ear. "I want you to fuck me, Joel," you whisper, your voice thick with desire. "Fuck me like you've been dreaming of."

With a low growl, Joel flips you onto your back, his body covering yours as he drives into you with deep, powerful strokes. You wrap your legs around his waist, your fingers dig into his back as he pounds into you, the sound of flesh meeting flesh echoes through the room.

"Yes, Joel, yes!" you cry out as your body arches off the bed. "Harder, fuck me harder!"

Joel obliges, his hips snapping forward with renewed vigor, each thrust pushes you closer and closer to the edge. And then, with a final, brutal thrust, you're both coming, your bodies shudder in unison as you ride out the waves of your orgasms.

As the last spasms of pleasure wrack your bodies, Joel collapses on top of you, his breath coming in ragged gasps. You lie there for a moment, basking in the afterglow, your bodies still intimately connected. Then, with a playful grin, you nudge him with your hip. "So, cowboy, how was that ride for you?"

Joel lifts his head and his eyes meet yours. A slow smile spreads across his face. "Darlin'," he drawls, "that was the best ride of my life."

You laugh, the sound light and carefree. "I'm glad you enjoyed it as much as I did. We should probably get cleaned up before my dad wakes up."

Reluctantly, Joel pulls out of you and rolls onto his back. You sit up, stretching your arms above your head, and then climb out of bed. You pad over to your dresser and pull out a pair of clean panties and an outfit, then turn to face Joel.

"Coming?" you ask, cocking an eyebrow at him.

Joel grins and gets out of bed, his eyes roaming over your body. "Yes, ma'am," he says, saluting you with a mock-serious expression.

You both head to the bathroom, where you shower. As Joel steps under the spray of hot water, you take a moment to drink in the sight of him. The water cascades down his broad shoulders, tracing the contours of his muscular back and flowing over the firm swell of his ass. You allow your gaze to travel back up to his face, watching as the water beads on his skin, runs down the sharp angles of his jaw, and drips from the tips of his lashes.

Joel turns, his movements languid and unhurried. The water washes over his chest, highlighting the definition of his muscles and the ridges of his abdomen. A smattering of greying hair adorns his chest, trailing down his stomach to form a line that disappears beneath the water. His cock, still semi-hard from your earlier escapades, rests against his thigh.

For a moment, you're lost in the sheer masculine beauty of him. He's not a young man, but there's a timeless quality to his physique, a sense of strength and resilience that transcends age. You can't help the surge of attraction to him like a primal pull.

Joel catches you staring and a slow, knowing smile spreads across his face. "See somethin you like, darlin'?" he drawls, his voice thick with amusement.

You feel a flush of heat creep into your cheeks, but you refuse to look away. "Maybe I do," you retort, your gaze locked with his. "Do you have a problem with that, cowboy?"

Joel chuckles. "No problem at all, feel free to look your fill."

You step forward and reach out to trace the line of hair that bisects his chest. His skin is warm and slick beneath your fingers, the muscle beneath firm and unyielding.

Joel's smile fades, replaced by a look of intense concentration as he watches you explore his body. Encouraged by his reaction, you drop to your knees in front of him, your hands sliding over the wet skin of his hips. Joel's breath hitches as you lean forward and press a kiss to his stomach, just above the line of hair that leads to his rapidly hardening cock.

You look up at him, your eyes filled with a mixture of innocence and lust. "I want to taste you, Joel," you whisper, your voice barely audible over the sound of the running water. "I want to feel you in my mouth."

Joel groans, his hands tangling in your wet hair as he guides you closer. His cock is fully erect now, the head flushed with arousal and beaded with moisture. You part your lips and take him into your mouth, the taste of him mingling with the clean, fresh scent of the soap.

Joel's hips jerk in response to the sensation, his fingers tightening in your hair. "Fuck, such a good girl for this ol’cowboy.”

You hum in acknowledgment, the vibration sending a shudder through his body. You can feel his control slipping, his movements becoming more erratic as you work him. With each stroke of your tongue, each suckling kiss, you're pushing him closer and closer to the edge.

"I'm gonna come, darlin'," Joel warns, his voice strained. "If you don't want to swallow, you better pull back now."

You respond by taking him deeper, your hands gripping his ass as you suck him with renewed vigor. Joel's control snaps, his body tensing as he erupts in your mouth. You swallow reflexively, the salty-sweet taste of his release filling your senses.

As the last spasms of his orgasm subside, Joel pulls you to your feet and captures your lips in a searing kiss.

As the water from the shower begins to cool, Joel reaches out and turns off the faucet, the sudden silence punctuated only by the sound of your shared breathing. He steps out of the shower first, taking a moment to grab a fluffy towel from the rack and wrapping it around his waist. Then, with a gentlemanly gesture he offers you his hand to help you step out onto the mat.

You accept his help with a grateful smile, your fingers curling around his as he assists you. He takes another towel and begins to gently dry your body, his movements tender and unhurried. The care he takes with you, the way he looks at you with a mixture of awe and desire, makes you feel cherished and beautiful.

Once you're both dry, you lead him back to your bedroom, the cool sheets a welcome relief against your warm skin. You crawl onto the bed, your body still humming with the aftereffects of your shared pleasure, and Joel follows suit, lying down beside you. For a moment, neither of you speaks. There's a sense of contentment that fills the room.

Joel reaches out and takes your hand in his, his thumb tracing lazy circles on your palm. "That was... something else, darlin'," he murmurs, his voice a low rumble that sends a pleasant shiver down your spine.

You turn to face him, your eyes locking onto his. "It was," you agree, a soft smile playing on your lips. "I'm glad you took a chance on me, cowboy."

He chuckles, the sound rich and warm. "I think it's safe to say that I'm the one who got lucky."

You giggle, the sound light and carefree. It feels good to let go of the tension, to bask in the afterglow without overthinking the situation.

As the morning wears on, you both dress, the reality of the day ahead slowly beginning to intrude on your private world. You know that eventually, you'll have to face your dad, to pretend that nothing has changed, but for now, you're content to linger in bed with Joel, the world outside temporarily forgotten.

When you finally emerge from your room, you find your dad in the kitchen, sipping on a cup of coffee and reading the newspaper. He looks up as you enter, a smile spreading across his face when he sees the two of you together.

"Well, good morning, sleepyheads," he greets. "I hope you two weren't up too late."

You feel a flush of heat creep into your cheeks, but you manage to keep your expression neutral. "Not too late, Dad," you reply, your voice steady.

Joel, for his part, seems completely at ease, his years of friendship with your dad serving him well in this moment. He claps your father on the back and grins. "You know how it is. Once you get to talking, the time just flies by."

Your dad nods, seemingly satisfied with the explanation. He stands up from the table and stretches, his joints popping in the quiet of the kitchen. "Well, I'm glad you two had a good time. How about some breakfast?

Throughout the meal, you're acutely aware of his presence, the knowledge of what lies beneath his clothes, the feel of his skin against yours, the taste of him on your lips. It's a heady secret, one that you carry with you as you navigate the normalcy of the morning.

Eventually, the meal comes to an end, and Joel stands up, wiping his mouth with a napkin. "I should probably be heading home," he says, his gaze meeting yours. "I've got a few things I need to take care of today."

Your dad nods, pushing back his chair and standing up as well. "I understand. Thanks for coming over. We'll have to do it again soon."

You walk Joel to the door, your heart pounding in your chest. This is the first time you've been alone all morning since the shower. He turns to face you, his hand reaching out to tuck a stray lock of hair behind your ear. "I had a great time, darlin'," he murmurs, his voice low and intimate. "Thank you for... well, for everything."

You smile up at him, your eyes shining with emotion. "I had a great time too, Joel. Take care, okay?"

He nods, his hand dropping back to his side. "You too, pretty girl."

With a final, lingering look, Joel turns and walks away, the sound of his footsteps echoing in the quiet of the morning. You close the door behind him and lean back against it, your mind racing with the events of the past 24 hours.

As you make your way back to the kitchen, your dad looks up from the dishes he's washing and gives you a smile. "He's a good man, that Joel," he says, his voice filled with a warmth and affection that only comes from years of friendship. "I'm glad you two get along so well."

You nod, a sense of peace settling over you. "Yeah, Dad. He’s really good.”

And as you help your dad finish the dishes, the memory of Joel's touch, the sound of his voice, the taste of his kiss, all of it lingers in the back of your mind, a sweet reminder you can only hope happens again and again.

Special taglist for @milla-frenchy 😘

#joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #joel miller #pedro pascal #joel miller x f!reader #tlou fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfiction

3K notes · View notes

sundrop-writes · 6 months ago

Text

BRAINWASHED

Virgin!Stiles Stilinski x Fem!Reader

Everything’s clean - except for my thoughts. (Thinking about me getting you off.)

Can’t stop thinking you got me B R A I N W A S H E D .

Summary:

Stiles likes you. He really, really, really likes you. It's bordering on obsession, but he likes to believe that he has it under control.

So when you accidentally leave a pair of your panties in his presence, ripe for the taking, and they're in his backpack faster than he can blink - he realizes that he might not have it as under control as he would like to think. But he can't find it to be too much of a problem when he has those panties wrapped around his cock.

Virgin!Stiles Stilinski x Best Friend!Fem!Reader. Pining!Stiles/One Sided Fantasies. Panty Stealing. Smut/PWP.

Word Count: 8,000

Teen Wolf Masterlist | AO3 Link

Full list of warnings and author's notes below the cut.

Warnings: the reader uses she/her pronouns and is described as having a vagina; Stiles and the reader have been best friends since childhood and they are in high school now (they are both the same age) (for argument's sake, they are both 18, but the horny parts were motivated by the hotness of a 20-something actor so idc what age you interpret the characters as); the reader's looks are mostly undescribed and left neutral in terms of race, hair texture/colour, height, etc. however the reader is implied to be fat/plus sized; mentions of the reader wearing dresses and tights (things that the other characters on the show would typically wear); mentions of the reader having a cat - I did not give the cat a name so you can imagine it's the same as your cat's name/what you would want your cat to be called if you had one; use of Y/N and L/N (as in Last Name); brief mention that the reader would like wearing bikinis; the reader calls Stiles 'good boy' in non-sexual contexts and it turns him on; mentions of Stiles looking up the reader's skirt when she doesn't know it; some slight dubious consent because Stiles steals the reader's underwear without her consent and uses them in a sexual act (his masturbation); masturbation (Stiles touching himself); this is a one-sided/pining fic - all the sexual acts take place inside Stiles's mind as sexual fantasies while he masturbates; the reader character is described in these sexual acts as they play out in his mind, so that's why she is included heavily in the warnings; Stiles is submissive (even in his own fantasies) and he fantasies about the reader being dominant toward him; Stiles becoming aroused by the idea of the reader not shaving her pussy; technically there is edging - because Stiles edges himself to make his fantasies last longer; panty sniffing (though the panties Stiles took are freshly launder and not used ones); scent kink/sweat kink - Stiles likes the way you smell, including your sweat; kinks and sexual acts mentioned only in Stiles's fantasies (taking place only in his mind in this fic): car sex (in the back of the Jeep (typical, I know)), fingering (reader receiving), degradation kink (Stiles receiving - he likes the idea of the reader insulting him and being mean to him); pussy eating (Stiles fantasizes in depth about this); Reader makes a joke about spanking Stiles and Stiles has a small fantasy about being spanked by her; I think that's finally it.

A/N: Title for the fic comes from the song Brainwashed by Waterparks. Warning - Stiles might be a bit OOC in this because I wrote it before I started re-watching Teen Wolf again (and before I started watching Season 1 for the first time, because previously I had only seen 3B and beyond). In this, I have said that he's flunking classes and he's not really great with studying, while in the show, he's really smart and bookish and really well studied - but it could just be chalked up to the fact that he has a huge crush on the Reader that is distracting him from studying. So, interpret it how you want. I hope that you enjoy it, and please read through to my end notes to find out about a potential sequel to the fic!!

...

Stiles was hopeless.

That was the only way to describe his current state of being. Completely, utterly hopeless.

He was a complete and total loser, hopelessly in love with his best friend. And he was getting more stupidly caught up in that crush every single day. And of course, he didn’t even have the courage to admit his feelings for you so that it could be awkwardly out in the open. So that the two of you could get the rejection part over with, at least.

Basically - his feelings for you were slowly ruining his life.

Stiles had been in love with you for as long as he could remember. Well, maybe not that long.

See, you, him, and Scott had all been friends since the beginning of kindergarten, and naturally, Stiles always liked you as a person. He always thought of you as a good friend, even if he gravitated toward Scott more.

But he distinctly remembered the first moment when he had started to develop a crush on you. It was a very special memory to him - the day when you shifted in his eyes from annoying, slightly nagging friend to a beautiful, fierce woman.

It was the day when the three of you were out on Halloween night during the third grade - and that was around the time people started whispering about crushes in school, when people would have playground girlfriends and boyfriends that they broke up with every other week. That night, a group of eighth grade bullies began chasing the three of you, trying to take your candy.

Without hesitation, you picked up the largest rock in sight and threw it at one of them, causing a large cut across his forehead - and you loudly told them to ��fuck off’ (the first time Stiles had ever heard such a word when it wasn’t coming from his dad). They had run away, somehow terrified of a girl a foot shorter than them.

That night, you had become his hero.

And since then, you had been the only object of his affections.

Of course, over the years, Stiles had plenty of opportunities to tell you about his feelings for you. He just… always felt too cowardly to do so.

In seventh grade, he had come very close to asking you out to the winter dance - only to have Scott beat him to the punch. When he pulled Scott aside to ask him about it, Scott confessed to him that he also had a crush on you. This resulted in their first ever fistfight. The first ever true rift in their otherwise close, brotherly friendship.

The boys didn’t speak to each other for days. Which, naturally, annoyed the hell out of you. Especially because, of course, neither of them told you why they were fighting, not wanting you to know that you were the source of the rift in their friendship. And to you, this only made the fight seem more stupid and immature.

So finally, when you demanded it, they called a truce. They agreed that they didn’t want to lose their friendship or lose you. They didn’t want to make you choose between them when it wouldn’t make any of you happy.

So Stiles proposed that the three of you should go to the dance as friends, which you loved, and they both got you a corsage, one for each wrist - and the three of you still laughed at the pictures of you holding each of their arms.

Eventually, Scott grew out of his crush on you and moved onto other girls, and he loved that he got to keep you as a close best friend, someone he could go to for dating advice if needed. Scott kept trying to convince Stiles to simply ‘man up’ and tell you about his feelings, but Stiles kept that same sentiment they had concluded upon years ago. Telling you about his feelings would only ruin the friendship. Not just between you, but between the entire group - it would fuck up the pack.

Though it felt like the more he tried to ignore his feelings for you, the more they festered like a tumor. While Scott was able to mature past his crush on you, Stiles only grew more intense, and more insane when it came to his ‘crush’ on you.

Over the years, his crush on you had grown from something sweet and childish into something much more. When puberty truly took over and lust was added into the mix, he now had to deal with the fact that you had grown into a gorgeous woman. He could barely control his arousal when looking at you, hearing your voice, smelling you, talking to you, thinking about you - even simply being in your presence made something in his mind melt. And it was growing much worse with each passing day. There wasn’t a day that went by that he didn’t wake up with a raging boner fueled by sexual dreams of you.

And naturally, he would say that not telling you about his feelings for you was ultimately the best thing for him. He would steadfastly refuse to admit that him being distracted by all these fantasies of you was slowly eroding your friendship from the inside out. Slowly, bit by bit, his worst fears were coming true - your friendship was being ruined by his crush anyway.

But he tried to ignore that. Even if you were the most gorgeous, perfect being ever put on the planet, he tried his hardest to simply enjoy the platonic version of you. He tried to act like he wasn’t stupidly, head over heels in love with you.

He tried not to act like it.

But on nights like this, it was just so hard.

Tonight, the two of you were studying for an upcoming English mid-term that would be worth a decent portion of your final grade.

Logically, Stiles knew that he should have locked himself in his room and forced himself to study independently. Or he should have taken up Scott on his offer to study with him and Allison.

But no, he just had to ask you for your ‘help’.

And you pitied him and said yes, because he was doing poorly in the class. The only reason for that being because it was one of the classes that he shared with you, and he spent all of his damn time staring at you across the room during it. He had tried to tell himself that he really would study tonight, that he would really take advantage of your intelligence here and now to get his shit together in order to up his grade.

But no. That was just one of many daily lies that he told himself. Since the moment he had set foot in your bedroom that afternoon (and it was dark out now, well into the evening) - he hadn’t been able to focus on anything but you.

Sure, sometimes that worked to his benefit. Hearing you recite Shakespeare, the words coming off your sweet lips - it did force him to focus on the material at hand for at least a short period of time. But it wasn’t like he was actually retaining any of it. He was just thinking about how gorgeous your voice sounded and how amazing you would be in an adaptation of Romeo and Juliet. One where he played Romeo, of course - and he would get to use someone else’s well-crafted words to romance you, finally getting to kiss you for the first time.

Again - he was hopeless.

Currently, Stiles was laying diagonally on your bed, sitting among a mess of books - the English textbooks, the assigned novels, the published copies of the play, along with binders of your notes and other notebooks, stray papers. He couldn’t pay attention to the notes he was supposed to be writing, not for a moment, not if his life depended on it. Not when you looked this stunningly beautiful while busy writing your own notes.

With the soft lighting from your bedside lamp brushing across your skin, making that skin look even softer, you were a goddess-like vision sitting on the bed across from him. You were wearing the simple dress that you had worn to school earlier that day, your modest tights since shed off in the name of ‘comfort’ (and so that your cat wouldn’t rip holes in them while crawling across your lap, you had remarked to Stiles). When you had stood at your hamper and peeled them off your legs, Stiles had a hard time not letting the drool spill out across his chin.

Your thighs were gorgeous. Thick, wide, spread out like a buffet for his eyes to feast on every single time you sat down. From his angle, laying down the way he was, he was up close and personal with the dimpling cellulite and stretchmarks you had there. The hem of your dress had ridden up when you had adjusted your position to get comfortable, and he felt absolutely spoiled by how much more of your thighs were revealed to him.

A few times throughout the evening, he had to physically clench his fingers, tight, to remind himself not to reach out and touch. To remind himself that he wasn’t allowed to touch. The last thing he wanted to do was to creep you out by randomly reaching out and touching your thigh. But he wanted so badly to touch.

How many times had he imagined what those thighs would look like bouncing and jiggling while you rode his cock? How many times had he imagined those thighs clamped around his head while he licked your pussy? (Far too many times for the good of his own sanity.)

Not to mention the concentration spread across your face - you were so fucking hot when you showed off your intelligence. Hell everything about you was hot - your sweetness, your laughter, your sarcasm, even your bitchy side. But your bookish side had to be one of Stiles’s favorites.

The way you would nibble your own lip when thinking, the way your brows furrowed slightly in thought. Everything about you - from the bra strap sticking out of the neckline of your dress to the chipped edge of your nail polish where you had chewed on it - you were a fucking vision. And Stiles couldn’t take his eyes off you, no matter how hard he tried.

It was a wonder that you didn’t notice Stiles staring at you - not as often as he did it.

Stiles felt strangely caught when you put down your pen and looked up from your notebook, then. He quickly scrambled to grab his own pencil and start writing something, to look busy. But of course, he just looked like more of an idiot when the eraser end began scraping across the page in nonsense patterns.

“Stiles,” You scolded him with a sigh, a way he was used to hearing his name come off your lips. “Have you gotten anything done? I told you to copy down at least half my notes-”

Of course. You pegged his blank page as simple laziness, rather than his brain slowly melting out through his ears due to his inability to think about anything but you (especially when he was in the same room as you). At least he hadn’t been caught staring at you in that creepy way yet.

You snatched up his notebook to check his work, and his heart dropped - if you looked too carefully, then he would be caught. In the back of that notebook, there were about three pages of his name and yours in hearts, and a few times he had practiced writing his signature as ‘Mr Stiles L/N’. (He was a feminist, and he liked the idea of starting a new tradition.) There was even a drawing he had made designing your theoretical wedding cake, including a cake topper where he was Superman and you were riding on his back while he was flying.

“Y/N, uh-”

He quickly snatched the notebook back, causing a glare from you while he sighed in defeat.

“Fine.” He shrugged, knowing that he had to admit to a smaller crime in order to cover up the larger one. It was something that he did with his father all too often. “I didn’t get anything done. I was slacking off. You caught me.”

“Stiles!” You scolded him again, reaching out to gently smack his shoulder. “If you keep this shit up, you’re never gonna graduate!”

Sadly, you were probably right. His crush on you was absolutely going to ruin him.

“Well, you could just let me copy off you,” He replied, giving you a wide grin that let you know he was mostly kidding.

You rolled your eyes in reply, and soon your gaze caught sight of the clock on your nightstand.

“Well, it seems like you have wasted enough of my time for tonight.” You scoffed sarcastically.

Stiles knew that you had intended this to be a joke - but he couldn’t help the twinge of pain the words caused in his gut. The idea that he was truly just a waste of time in your life. He pressed his lips tightly together to suppress a frown and didn’t say anything more, and then you continued.

“It’s almost your curfew anyway.” You pointed out, gesturing toward the clock. You were right. Stiles hadn’t even noticed how late it was getting - too busy enjoying his time with you. “We’ll pack it up for the night - but you should meet me at the library tomorrow morning, early, so we can go over everything again before the exam.”

Of course, you were still invested in the idea of him getting a good grade, even if that seemed unlikely to happen.

“You’re gonna make me get up early?” He whined, hating the idea of missing out on even ten extra minutes of sleep.

“Yes.” You stressed. “I want you there at seven o’clock. Sharp.”

Your ultra serious voice ordering him around was undeniably a turn-on for him. No matter what sexual fantasies Stiles cooked up about you in his mind, he could never picture himself having full control over you. In fact, most of the time, he found himself covered in cum at the idea of you having complete control over him. And it was likely because this was how most of your friendship went - you told him what to do, and he did it. And that was a huge part of why he fell for you in the first place.

When he didn’t verbally confirm the time, too caught up in his infatuation yet again, you let out a gentle growl of frustration.

“Stiles!” You called out his name. “You have to be there at seven. So you can’t get out of bed at seven - you have to set your alarm for like six-thirty, got it? Don’t make me come over there and get your ass out of bed like last time.”

This thought caused Stiles’s stomach to clench.

The last time you had come to his house to wake him up for school (because he had agreed to help you with some bakesale project and you were pissed off that he wasn’t there early to help you set up tables and whatnot) - you had charged into his house in a fury. You had your own key, of course, and his dad wasn’t there to busy you with conversation or pleasantries.

And you charged right up the stairs and nearly caught him with a hand around his cock, jerking off to a picture of you in a bikini from the summer before. And he had rushed to shove the picture in his nightstand and cocoon himself in the comforter to hide his body just as you made it to the top of the stairs, shouting at him for being late. Luckily, he had gotten away with the lie that he had slept in, rather than revealing the truth that he had been distracted because he had woken up with morning wood after having a heated dream about you.

When Stiles didn’t respond yet again, you grabbed a smaller decorative pillow from behind you and lightly hit him with it for emphasis, causing him to burst into laughter.

“Promise me you’ll be on time!” You said, smacking him with the pillow again.

“Yes, yes! I promise!” He finally agreed, his face becoming pink from laughter.

You dropped the pillow then, and leaned down, causing his eyes to inadvertently go straight to your cleavage while you gave him a gentle, friendly kiss on the forehead.

“Good boy.” You responded, praising him for agreeing to your terms. Obviously, it was another joke.

But these praising words combined with your lips even slightly brushing against his skin, along with your tits dangling so close to his face, had his cock swelling to hardness nearly instantly. He grabbed the pillow then, trying to look subtle as he put it over his crotch, desperately trying to hide the very obvious bulge that had popped up at the front of his jeans within seconds.

He was lucky when you shifted your attention away from him, now busy with cleaning off the bed, gathering your textbooks in a pile and moving to put them on your desk in the corner. You being distracted gave him a few moments to try and mentally will his dick down, which worked slightly. Only slightly.

“You could help me, you know.” You mocked him lightly - distracting him from his thoughts of baseball, trying to will the blood out of his cock.

He looked up and saw you standing there with his backpack, putting away his textbooks and notebooks now. He had been so dumbly distracted by his own dick that he hadn’t noticed you taking the kind initiative to clean up his things for him too.

“Right, sorry.” He jumped into action and did so, taking things from your hands and shoving them into his bag with haste.

“You don’t have to rush out, I just need the bed cleared off so I can pick out my clothes for tomorrow.” You told him.

“Wait - you actually pick out your clothes in advance?” He asked, thinking that this was entirely adorable, and explained why you were always so well dressed.

(And it explained why you were always so punctual in the mornings while Stiles was usually a mess - running around his house still half-asleep, shoving his head into a shirt that he had sniffed to see if it was clean, shoving things frantically into his bag in order to get out the door five minutes late.)

“Well you know not all of us are okay with just throwing on last week’s mustard stained tee shirt,” You said, playfully pointing to a mustard stain that he had on his shirt from lunch.

He rolled his eyes in return, trying to ignore the slight twist of embarrassment that wanted to swell up inside of him at the comment.

There had been a point where he used to make a very pointed effort to impress you. Back when his crush on you had first gotten serious - likely around the beginning of high school. He used to get up early every single morning, spending a lot of time being intensely picky about the clothes he wore. He drowned himself in cologne (until you had complained about it), he wore certain colors just because you mentioned liking them. But none of it seemed to garner any more of your attention than usual.

And so, he resigned himself to be the loser best friend who would always just float at the corners of your life, drowning in his secret affection for you until some better, hotter guy came along and swept you off your feet one day.

He was just glad that day hadn’t come yet.

Stiles was hesitant to leave - he wasn’t done being around you for the day yet, too emotionally attached. But he guessed that he would need to get some decent sleep before waking up at the asscrack of dawn in order to see more of you the next morning. (Even if it would include the horrors of studying at the library.)

“So - I’ll see you tomorrow morning?” He posed, ready to take his leave as he swung his backpack over his shoulder.

“Ooh, wait one second.” You said, eagerness twinging through your voice.

His heart pounded hard in his chest for a moment, wondering if this could be the moment he had been waiting so long for - would you stop him there, grab him by the shoulders and kiss him hard, and then tell him that you had been feeling the exact same way as he had for all these years?

“Which one?” You asked, spinning around from your closet to face him, holding up two dresses on hangers.

Oh. You were asking for his opinion about what you should wear to school the next day.

“The blue one.” Stiles said, motioning towards it. “That shade of blue looks beautiful on you - it compliments your skin tone well, and it makes you shine. But ya know, you look gorgeous in everything. You could wear a paper bag to school and everyone would still be jealous of how amazing you look.”

He rambled on for a moment too long, and realized that his genuine fondness for you - something straying too far into romantic territory - was slipping out.

“But - uh, yeah. I’ll see you later.” He quickly added on, now eager to leave before you could make any further comments.

Then he dashed out of your room and down the stairs, getting out the front door so fast that he practically left a poof of cartoon dust behind him.

He got into the Jeep and tossed his bag into the passenger’s seat - which, he hadn’t realized was not even zipped up. (A habit you often scolded him for - going around with his bag unzipped.) Papers and books spilled across the seat and underneath it, and he let out a loud growl of frustration.

“Idiot!” He screamed, scolding himself as he leaned down, trying to clean everything up. “Idiot, idiot, idiot!”

Partially, he was feeling so idiotic because he had just been so vulnerable with you and you probably thought he was weird for it. Actually, that was mostly why.

As he was picking up his things, he realized that - yup, he was missing his English textbook. He had forgotten it in your room. He heaved out a sigh and collapsed back against his seat. He could leave without it - but then he would get an earful from you in the morning about how he was ‘forgetful’ and ‘irresponsible’. Ugh.

He got out of the Jeep again and shuffled his way back into your house - your mom was working late, so there was nobody there to question him running out of the house at top speed and then appearing back so soon. All he got was a curious chirp and a head tilt from your cat, who was sitting on the top of the stairs.

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” Stiles remarked to the animal, stopping for a moment to pet him. “I’m pathetic. But you can’t rat me out, okay? I know she thinks highly of your opinion and I need you to put in a good word for me. Got it?”

The cat purred and pushed his face into Stiles’s hand, so he assumed that was a positive affirmation that he would root for Stiles - or at the very least, keep his secret.

Stiles linger for a moment to scratch the cat’s furry cheek, and then he stepped over the cat and made his way back toward your room. He passed the closed bathroom door and heard the shower running, and he almost cheered. If you were in the shower, then you wouldn’t notice him slipping back in to grab his book, so you couldn’t scold him for being a forgetful idiot.

He went into your room, and the second he made it through the mouth of your open bedroom, his eyes locked onto your bed like a hot target. Your clothes for the following day were spread out so neatly, and right there, on top of the blue dress he had suggested - there was a pair of lacy purple panties that were something right out of one of his fantasies.

Stiles had thought about your underwear before - many times. Too many times to count.

He had even caught small, passing glimpses of your underwear before - when you had worn dresses without tights and bent over in front of him. But he had only seen enough of it to determine the color, not to know if it was lacy or silk or cotton. And even that was enough to send him into a tailspin that had him rushing to the bathroom to relieve his aching cock.

In the back of his mind - or truly, the forefront of his mind whenever he jerked off to thoughts of you - he always wondered what kind of underwear you wore. What kind of decorative wrapping your pretty pussy would come in if he ever got the other-worldly privilege of getting his hands up your skirt.

Would they be simple, practical cotton underwear? Would they be cute? Would they be sinfully sexy? Would they be those underwear with the days of the week written across the front?

But seeing this now - seeing the tangible evidence in front of him that you actually planned to wear purple lacy lingerie to school - it was something that had all sense draining from his mind as blood rushed to his cock once again. He barely had time to think about it - and he didn’t think about it. Because then, they were in his hands, in his pocket, and he was back in the Jeep, hiding his stolen goods in his bag and hastily zipping it up so he could slam his foot on the gas and race home.

He didn’t even have a chance to think about the fact that he left without the textbook that he had gone back into your room looking for. He didn’t have the attention span to notice that said textbook was in a stack along with your own - almost as if purposefully kept there like an excuse to lure him back into your room, rather than clumsily forgotten by him.

…

When Stiles got into his room, he slammed his bedroom door shut behind him, now entirely frantic, and thankful that his father was working a late shift again. He sat down on the edge of his bed, his hands shaking with anticipation as he unzipped his bag and pulled out the thing he had so hastily snagged.

His mind was warring with so many sensations. Guilt for taking the panties, paranoia that he would get caught, shame that he even had the urge to take them in the first place - but all of that was easily toppled over and forgotten in the name of lust. Overwhelming lust and arousal that he felt for you. Greed and joy at knowing that he had something so private of yours in his hands now - something so secret that he shouldn’t have. A perfect little piece of you.

His little secret piece of you.

He still couldn’t believe that this was the kind of underwear you wore on a daily basis.

Just imagining that this was what you wore to school - thinking about the fact that this was what you were wearing under your clothes during your everyday interactions with him: it drove him wild.

He easily pictured this pretty lace sticking to your cunt when you were wet, the lavender colored material getting slick and slightly darker, soaked through and visibly sticky when you spread your legs for him to see. He wondered if your pussy would be shaved or not - but you didn’t have a boyfriend, so currently, you didn’t have anybody to shave for.

He remembered a conversation from a few weeks ago where Scott had wondered if he should shave his pubes for Allison and you had remarked that ‘putting a razor near your junk’ was ‘ill-advised and stupid’ - so you probably didn’t even like shaving your pussy on principle.

This immediately put a picture in his mind of your pussy being covered in soft hair that matched the shade on your head - maybe a bit darker. It would clump together with your juices and become soaked when you got wet. The little hairs would probably stick out cutely from the sides of the bikini cut underwear, peeking at him.

Your pussy would be the prettiest thing he had ever seen, he knew that for certain.

Stiles imagined getting you in the backseat of the Jeep one night after a game.

He would still be covered in sweat from his efforts, worn out from trying his best. Sure, he wasn’t the best player, but you wanted to ‘reward’ him for his efforts on the winning side, even if he hadn’t directly contributed to the win.

So as soon as the game was over, before he even had time to change out of his pads or shower, you hauled him to the parking lot and shoved him into the car. His gear was only half-off, ditched hastily by your feet, and you were in his lap - a perfect prize after all the hard work he had done, sitting astride his already sore thigh muscles while you kissed him - hard. Your mouth greedily sucked the oxygen out of his lungs while you shoved your tongue past his lips, painting his tongue with your sweet spit - and fuck, it felt like he was made for this.

He got sucked so deep into the fantasy - it felt so damn real.

He imagined having his hands splayed out against your beautiful, plump ass, gripping you tightly, noting wanting you to separate from him for even a section. While you held on tightly to his face, sealing him into the kiss until his lips were sore. And you would only pull back to look into his eyes with glossy desperation and utter out:

“Please, Stiles. I need you. I need you to touch my pussy.”

And what else could he do but obey?

So he would lift up your skirt - a particularly short skirt that you had worn with nothing else but a pair of knee-high socks. Something that you knew he loved to see you cheer for him on the sidelines while wearing. Even though it was a chilly night, you couldn’t feel too cold when you saw him glancing at you every single chance he got. Of course, those distracted stares had gotten him screamed at by Coach more than once. But he loved the way your skirt would flutter up in the nighttime breeze, teasing him. The way the fucking beautiful thick fat of your thighs would jiggle whenever you would jump around in order to cheer him on.

He was a man of simple, divine tastes.

So - he would lift up that perfect skirt to find those purple lacy panties underneath; to find the perfection of your wet cunt waiting for him, growing slicker by the second, more needy for him. You were humping yourself against his athletic cup, which his hard cock was practically dying inside of, bursting to get out of the hard shell of plastic to touch you. But he ignored his own needs for a few minutes longer in favor of yours. Reaching forward, sliding his fingers along the wet spot at the front of your panties, absolutely indulging in the beautiful gasp you let out when his touch grazed across your swollen clit through the fabric.

“Stiles, please.”

He could almost hear it - it was so fucking clear inside his mind. The way your voice would be so pitched with desperation, so perfectly needy curled around his name. He wanted so badly to hear it in real life.

And he would push those panties to the side, pushing his fingers inside of your hot, wet cunt-

Back in the real world, Stiles’s cock gave a needy pulse, leaking into his boxers.

He heaved out a sigh, his cock practically vibrating with blood. He had driven home the whole time trying to ignore that boner, but he simply couldn’t do that anymore. He just had to give in.

He hesitantly put your panties aside - already feeling a strange sense of attachment to them - and reached to his nightstand, grabbing the bottle of lube that he had in the drawer. Shamefully, it was already half empty, mostly due to the fantasies that he had about you. He undid his pants and had them around his ankles in record time, and whipped off his shirt for good measure, knowing that he was quite a ‘splasher’ and not wanting to get cum on it to pair with that ugly mustard stain.

He lubed up his cock more than a healthy amount, knowing that it would contribute to the fantasy of you being so wet around him. It was a distant fantasy that he would never actually get to achieve, but hell - a man can dream. Then he began to slowly pump his cock in hand, wanting to milk it and truly enjoy it, and he let his mind get back to work.

He thought back to your place. A place he was comfortable, spent a lot of time at hanging out with you.

He imagined that early that night when he had forgotten his book, rather than you being in the shower, he went back to your room and found that you had been getting ready for bed. You were rubbing sweet-smelling lotion on your arms, pulling back the covers, wearing nothing but a pair of cute little socks, a tiny camisole - where he could very visibly see that you weren’t wearing a bra, with the natural teardrop shape of your breasts bared to the eye, your nipples poking through the fabric - and those purple lace panties.

When he would appear in the doorway, you would gawk at him and ask:

“Stiles? What are you doing? Did you… forget something?”

But you would be positioned half leaning over the bed, taking back the covers so it would be comfortable for you to sleep - and your ass would be unintentionally on full display. Your sweet pussy lips peeking at him from behind, the roundness of your ass so fucking inviting, daring him to leave bite marks across the beautifully fat flesh.

And after a few moments of him staring so brazenly, saying nothing, simply drinking in the gorgeous sight of your body bent over, wearing so little clothing, wearing those perfect little lace panties-

(Stiles sped up his hand on his cock, the lube sounding downright sloppy in the silence of the room.)

You would stand up to your full height, come to him in the doorway, put your face so close to his and say:

“If you’re gonna spend so much time staring at me like a gaping idiot, then you should do something about it.”

Stiles had to stop the swift movements of his hand and clutch his grip tightly around the base of his cock, making his entire dick throb hard as he edged off his own orgasm.

He still wasn’t sure why the idea of you calling him an ‘idiot’ in such a brazen tone made him want to cum so hard - but he didn’t have time to unpack all that now.

He grabbed up the panties again with his non-lubed hand. Something in the back of his mind thought that it would be a crime for him to get them dirty. Another part argued that he would absolutely love to get them covered in his cum, not clean them, and then return them to you. That it would be fucking thrilling to have you wear them in that dirtied state.

Though he knew that would never fucking happen.

If he returned the panties to you covered in his cum, then you would slap him, call him a pervert, and likely have Scott beat the shit out of him with his newly harnessed werewolf strength. Stiles pushed this thought to the back of his mind, though.

Out of curiosity, he lifted the fabric to his nose and took a whiff. They smelled like fresh laundry - a nice lemony detergent. Of course they weren’t ones you had previously worn - they were a pair you had been planning on wearing tomorrow.

He distantly wondered if that meant you would not be wearing underwear tomorrow, because he had taken your intended pair. And that could have led his mind down a whole different filthy track, but instead - he began to wonder what a pair of your dirty underwear might smell like.

You should take a pair of used ones. A voice in his mind told him. Snatch them right out of the hamper. Come on, you’re over at her place all the time. She won’t even notice them gone.

Terrible idea. Terrible rabbit hole.

But what would they smell like?

He wasn’t deluded enough to think that pussy smelled like roses. He had never been close enough to one - a real pussy - before to actually know. Yes, he was a virgin. He could have said that he was waiting, ‘saving it’ for you - but every other girl, including you, was smart enough to look past him. There were plenty of other guys who were better looking and more charming than him, and probably better in bed than him, that girls had chosen instead of him.

He wondered if your pussy smelled like that perfect bit of sweat that you gathered at the end of a long day. Sometimes when he went to hug you before the two of you parted ways, he would catch a whiff of the tiniest undertone of musk, a good amount of sweat paired with the berry scented body spray you had put on that morning, and orange tic-tacs you had popped after lunch. It was a delectable combination.

He imagined that your cunt would smell like that bit of sweat, combined with the blueberry body wash you used - the one he knew about and loved because of the time you had insisted he use your shower while stinking up a study session because he had skipped the showers after lacrosse practice when he was late to be with you.

He imagined getting hints of that blueberry body wash smell coming off your thighs when his head was buried between them. What would your cunt taste like? That was a mystery he wanted to solve live.

He could always imagine the other aspects so well.

He could imagine the feeling of the heat under his tongue, the perfect feeling of your wetness mixing with his spit. He imagined getting to bounce your swollen clit against his tongue and while feeling your moans and cries of his name vibrate through your body as he pleasured you so well - the feeling of your pubes brushing against his cheeks as his entire face became soaked with your wetness.

But the taste - that was something he could never conjure up in his mind, no matter how hard he tried.

He knew that eating your pussy would be perfect. Not just because he would be giving you pleasure, serving you. But he so often dreamed of having his head smothered by your thighs, having you grab his head and shove him tighter into your cunt, you purposeful and demanding. You having that beautiful control over him while he drowned in your wetness.

He knew that he would likely cum in his pants from eating you out if he ever got the privilege of doing so, and even if you laughed at him - stupidly, he would find that hot too.

Stiles picked up the pace again, pumping his cock in hand evenly and firmly - even reaching down with the other hand to cradle his balls, gently rolling the flesh in his hand as he got lost in another fantasy of you.

He imagined the two of you in his bed - textbooks forgotten and pushed off onto the floor, your dress hiked up around your hips, and again, those fucking purple lace panties. He was on top of you, hovering on his knees so that his hard cock wouldn’t brush against you (even through his jeans) while the two of you sloppily made-out.

It wasn’t long before you pulled away from his kiss-swollen lips.

“Stiles,” You purred into his ear, kissing along his neck. “You know, you’re so pathetic.”

These words had his cock jumping, spurting out precum - in his fantasy, it made his underwear messy as you undid his fly.

In the real world, it made his hand messy as he continued to rhythmically jerk his cock.

“I’m not gonna let you fuck me.” You told him, contrasting these words with your intentions as you put your hands inside his waistband and shoved his pants and underwear down over his hips - down to his knees until his hard, throbbing cock was exposed. “Not until you prove yourself.”

Before Stiles could ask the question, the beautiful, fantastic you that he had made up inside his mind gave him the perfect answer.

“Get yourself off by rubbing your pathetic dick against my panties. And then - I might let you fuck me.”

In the real world, Stiles let out a throttled moan - a choked sound that surely would have had his father knocking on the door to ask if he was okay if he was at home. And then he rushed to grab the panties again, and without even thinking, he used his sticky lubed up hand to position the fabric around his dick. It was a coarse roughness compared to the slick smoothness he had previously been feeling, but it did wonders to complete his fantasy as he delved back to the you inside of his mind.

He started rubbing the slightly lube-sticky rough fabric up and down his dick at a very slow pace as he imagined it:

Being perched between your thighs, with the fabric of the panties stuck to your wet cunt, his cock hard and leaking as he tucked himself right up against you and began to rub his dick against you in order to get off. Just like you wanted, just like you had ordered him to do.

“Please.” Stiles chanted, the words leaking out of his lips, chanted into his empty bedroom as he pleaded to the imaginary you that would always have a hold over him - just as tight of a hold as the real you had. “Please, please - oh fuck.”

He moved the fabric over his cock faster as he moved his hips faster in the fantasy, imagining how hot your pussy would feel against him, imagining your nails digging into his hips as you looked up at him with mocking and adoration in your eyes. He imagined you forcing his hips faster, trapping him in place with your knees bracketed around his thighs, showing him absolutely no mercy.

“Please, please, please.” He chanted, knowing with a distant part of his mind that he must have sounded utterly delirious. “Please, Y/N, lemme cum-”

“Cum for me, Stiles.”

Confirmed by that fantasy version of you and truly unable to hold it any longer, Stiles arched up off the bed, cumming all over his own fist. Just as he had predicted, it was an utter, uncontrollable mess. He shot cum all over his stomach, and absolutely soaked the fabric of the panties - making a horrible mess of them. Which, the lube had definitely already done. He laid there for a single moment catching his breath before it truly hit him.

Fuck. He had fucked up.

You would definitely notice the underwear missing after a while and he certainly couldn’t return them to you in this condition.

…

Stiles spent the next hour in the bathroom, absolutely panicking over how to get them clean. Luckily, he wasn’t a total idiot and he looked up the washing instructions online - and after hand-washing them in warm water with a ‘gentle’ detergent (handsoap was the best that he could do), they came out perfectly clean.

The only problem?

Hang to dry.

He set his alarm for early, earlier than you suggested, and prayed that he wouldn’t sleep through it. In fact, he set three more alarms just to make sure. He couldn’t have you or his father barging into his room to wake him up when he had a pair of your stolen panties pinned to his corkboard in order to properly dry them so that he could sneak them back to you in good condition.

…

The next day, he departed for school by 6:45 with the stolen goods hidden away in his bag, ready to sneak them back into your room later that afternoon. He made it to the library ten whole minutes before seven, and you seemed shocked that he was not only on time - but early.

“Wow.” You said, having just gotten there yourself, spreading out your items at a table - including a tray with some coffees. “You know, Stiles, I am impressed.”

“You don’t have to act so - so shocked.” He replied, partially interrupted by a yawn.

You leaned over to get a pen from your bag, and Stiles’s eyes immediately went to your ass, unconsciously trying to spot panty lines through your dress and tights - wondering if you were even wearing underwear because he had stolen the ones you had intended for today.

Focus, Stiles. Focus.

“Well, if you weren’t here by seven sharp like I told you, I was gonna pour this in the garbage.” You told him, taking his coffee out of the paper tray and sliding it toward him.

“You don’t have to be so mean.” He chuckled, airy and light - very secretly annoyed with the way your ‘mean’ streak affected him sometimes. Why did he have to be turned on by you scolding him and punishing him? Why?

“Hey, if I’m not mean then you never get anything done.” You told him truthfully. “And you know how it works by now. Good boys get rewards and bad boys get spanked.” You told him, letting out a bright laugh - indicating that it was clearly meant to be a joke.

But instantly, it shook his mind with imagery of you bending him over the table, ripping his pants down and spanking him until he came untouched and cried for mercy, forcing him to agree that he would behave and listen to you. He became downright dizzy at the thought.

You meant it as a joke - he had to sharply remind himself. But the way you so casually called him a ‘good boy’, said that he was deserving of a ‘reward’ - it sent chills down his spine and already had his cock waking up. Too early. Bad rabbit hole.

If he was any sort of brave, he would have pushed it more and asked you what kind of ‘reward’ you had in mind. But he wasn’t, and he was too tired to analyze the potential consequences.

“Oh!” You said, as though suddenly remembering something. You moved to grab your bag again and Stiles closed his eyes to forcefully keep himself from staring at your ass. “You left this at my place last night.” You told him, sliding his English textbook across the table toward him.

He was too busy trying to calm his own lust that he missed the smirk on your face - the mischief lingering in your eyes, the intention in your tone. He was too caught up, drowning in his own affections for you that he never would have pieced together that you had taken in and hidden it on purpose as a ploy to get him to come back. That you had put out some other bait for him to find.

“Thanks.” He said quietly. “So - what do we need to go over before the test?”

“Everything.”

Stiles groaned.

...

Due to much pressure, not the sequel has been posted. I am fully of the belief that this fic is complete and perfect on its own, but if you would like to keep reading, click on the link below. I highly encourage you to leave a comment before you press on, though, and tell me what you enjoyed about this fic since you have gotten this far.

Happy reading!

Keeping Reading Here: Stupid For You - Virgin!Stiles Stilinski x Fem!Reader

#sundrop writes #stiles stilinski x reader #dylan o'brian x reader #dylan o'brien smut #stiles stilinksi smut #stiles stilinksi imagine #stiles stilinksi fanfiction #stiles stilinski #stiles x reader #teen wolf #teen wolf x y/n #teen wolf x reader #teen wolf fanfiction #teen wolf smut

2K notes · View notes

mrgoldmc26 · 20 days ago

Text

NewJeans Sex Adventures Part 1 ft. Danielle

Tags: Gangbang, airtight, blowjobs, facefucking, anal, creampie, anal creampie, facial, dirty talk and more...

Word Count: 11.9k

The following is a Fan Fiction and should be treated as such.

The morning sun was climbing higher into the Chicago sky. The Lollapalooza 2023 festival was set to kick off tomorrow, promising an incredible first day of four filled with concerts, parties, and unforgettable moments. This year’s lineup was nothing short of legendary, boasting artists like Kendrick Lamar, Billie Eilish, the Red Hot Chili Peppers, and, of course, NewJeans.

My friends and I were huge fans of the K-pop group, and when we found out they were holding their first-ever U.S. fan meeting the day before their performance, we knew we couldn’t miss it. The event was taking place at Block 37, a lively shopping center near Grant Park, and we were determined to be there early.

By the time we arrived, just after 10:00 AM, the line was already massive. It stretched along the sidewalk, past storefronts and around multiple blocks. Fans of all ages were buzzing with excitement, holding signs, albums, and posters, hoping to get them signed. The air was filled with snippets of conversation about favorite songs, theories about the upcoming performance, and shared anticipation. Light sticks and NewJeans merch were everywhere, giving the scene a vibrant, festival-like atmosphere.

"My god, I can't believe we are here. I'm so excited to meat them." I said.

"I know right? And the fact that we get to watch them perform live tomorrow for the first time??? This is going to be the best 48 hours of my life." Jake said.

"I can't wait to meet Minji. She's the one I want to talk the most with." Max said.

"What about you guys? Alex? Jake? Which member do you want to meet the most?"

"Haerin for sure. That girl melts my heart." Jake said.

"I will go for Danielle. She's so hot." I said.

"Well, we will meet them all, so I'm excited about every one of them." Jake said.

"I just hope we get in. I've been to multiple fan meet events. The lines are so big, they always have a person cut the line and tell the fans to leave, because they will not get in." Max said.

"Man, I hope that doesn't happen. I will be devastated if we don't get in. Doors will only open in five hours. I don't want to sit in a line for five hours, and then wait whatever time it takes these huge ass line in front of us to move forward, just to not get in." I said, already fearing the worst.

Thankfully, we came prepared. We brought a backpack with a bunch of food, water and snacks to keep us full, our NewJeans merch, and our phones and headphones. All we did until 3:00 PM was eat and listen to music. I had no idea what Jake and Max were listening, but if I had to take a guess, I would probably say NewJeans, which was exactly what I was listening, my favourite songs being ETA and Super Shy.

Despite all this, the time went by incredibly slowly, but sure enough, eventually it was 3:00 PM, and the doors opened. This, however, changed nothing for us, as the line moved just as slow as the time did. Two hours passed, and the three of us were still outside the shopping center, and the fear that we might not get in was starting to kick in.

That fear only grew bigger when we saw a security guard move towards us. Thankfully, he moved pass us, but he did do what we feared. He cut the line several meters behind us, much to the despair of everyone behind it. I couldn't even begin to imagine what those people felt, having their dreams of meeting their idols crushed by a very big, black security guard.

One hour passed since the security guard came, and we were still outside. By now, my legs and my back were killing me, and I could tell Max and Jake were struggling as well. I shifted my weight from one foot to the other, trying to ease the ache in my legs. Jake leaned against the wall, rubbing his lower back, while Max kept bouncing on his heels to keep his circulation going.

To make things worse, the security guard came back, and he stopped right next to us, looking at the long line.

"Right here. Everyone behind the line, you can go. There will be no time for you to meet NewJeans." He said, as I felt my heart shatter into a million pieces.

"No...you can't do this. We've been in this line since 10:00 AM!!!" Max said.

"This is so unfair." Jake added.

"I'm sorry, man. It's just way too many people."

"Dude, we came all the way over from Europe. Please, I'm begging you. We don't have tickets for their concert tomorrow, too. This is the only chance we will probably ever get to meet them." I said, pulling out my best sad face.

I could see that he was thinking about it deeply. He wanted to let us in, but he didn't know if he should.

"Ugh, fine. Line ends after you three. No more people will see NewJeans." He said.

"Thank you so much, sir." Jake said.

"Yeah, yeah..." The security guard responded, before going away.

"Oh my god, Alex...well played. I can't believe he fell for that. You are such a brilliant liar."

"Thanks, ah ah. I can't believe that worked too."

Thankfully for us, the security guard never came back, and three hours later, we were finally inside. It was just a bit over 9:00 PM, and I could finally see the NewJeans members. The lines were settled in a way that every fan had to go in the same order of members: Minji first, then Hyein, Hanni, Haerin, and finally Danielle.

There wasn't that many people inside the shopping center, and the closer we got to the NewJeans girls, the more quiet it got. A lot of the security had also left, to the point that there were only two security guards inside by the time we finally came face to face with Minji.

Our conversation went smoothly. I was beyond happy, and I could tell that Max and Jake were also in dreamland. She signed all of our merch, and we moved on to Hyein. As soon as we had moved on from Minji, I noticed her getting out of her seat, leaving the table. I don't know why that confused me, but I always thought she would wait for the rest of the members so that they could all leave together, but I guess that didn't happen.

Much like our talk with Minji, the meeting with Hyein, Hanni and Haerin went the same way, and just like that, we were the only fans still inside the shopping center, and we were ready to meet the last NewJeans member, Danielle.

"Hey, Dani. The others and I will be waiting in the car. Don't take too long." Haerin said, before leaving the area.

"Sure thing. I only have these three cute boys to take care off, how are you guys?" She asked, almost making me faint on the spot, as I couldn't believe she had just called me cute.

"Oh my god, hi. I love you so much. My name is Alex, and this is Max and this is Jake." I said, introducing us all, unable to hold back my excitement, as I started putting the merch on the table for her to sign, and Max and Jake followed suit.

"So, what brings you guys here?"

"Well, you girls, obviously." Jake responded.

"Are you coming to the concert tomorrow?"

"Yes, we are. We can't wait. It's the first time that we are going to see you girls live." Max said.

"Oh, that's great. We can't wait to have you there."

"How has your day been?" I asked.

For the first time during our conversation, Danielle stopped signing our things, and she looked me right in the eyes, almost in shock.

"Oh my god...you are like, the first person that has asked me that today."

"Really?"

"Yes, really. I'm like, so tired. And I am starving."

"Well, my mom owns a small fast food restaurant just down the road. You could come with us if you want. We are also hungry. We've been sitting in the line since 10:00 AM." I said.

"Jesus, you poor guys. All that effort just to see us. I really appreciate it. I could really use a burger right now, not gonna lie, but I'm an idol. I can't go with you guys, I hope you can understand that."

"Oh, come on, Dani. Of course you can. We can be there in like five minutes. You have to try my moms burgers. She is the best cook ever."

"I would love to go with you guys, but I can't be recognized in public with three fans."

"It's super dark outside and there is probably nobody inside my moms' restaurant right now. Plus, unless you are Blackpink member, nobody is going to recognize you here in America."

"Mmmm, I guess you're right."

"The burgers are on the house by the way, if that helps." I said, making Danielle chuckle, as if she didn't have money to buy the whole goddamn restaurant.

She pondered for quite a long time, as she kept signing away our merch. I was super nervous, and I really wanted her to say yes, just so that I could talk to her some more and look at her beautiful face.

"I might not be an idol, but I know and understand what you go through. Your life might seem perfect on the outside, but I know it isn't. The busy schedules, the paparazzi, the haters, and lord knows what's in your contract that says what you can and can't do. For one night only, try to live a little. Come with us. It's just for food." I said, trying my best to convince her.

Danielle twirled the marker cap between her fingers, before tapping it repeatedly on the table, her gaze shifting between the emptying space around her and the three of us standing by the table. She leaned back slightly, her expression thoughtful, almost calculating.

“When was the last time you really had fun?”

“Goshhhhhh, so long ago, I can’t even remember.” Dani said with an exaggerated groan, her lips pulling into a small, wistful smile.

“It’s been...a lot of work lately.”

Danielle's gaze flicked between the three of us before landing on me. For a moment, I felt completely exposed, like she was peeling back every layer of my personality just by looking. At roughly six feet tall, I’d always thought I had a solid presence—enough to get noticed but never overwhelming. I could only hope my slightly messy hair, a casualty of the long hours in line, didn’t make me look completely ridiculous. Her eyes lingered just a little longer, and I caught myself wondering if she noticed the faint definition in my arms, the product of gym sessions I’d probably exaggerated when talking to my friends.

Jake and Max had their own charm—Jake with his sharp features and easy laugh, and Max with that natural charisma that could win over just about anyone. Together, we must’ve looked harmless enough, just three guys thrilled to be standing in front of someone we admired. The way Danielle’s expression softened, and her shoulders loosened, made me think we’d managed to put her at ease, at least a little.

"See, so come with us. Let loose for a night. You deserve it."

“Do you guys even have a car?” She asked, her tone light but still with a trace of skepticism about the whole thing.

"Yeah, I have. It's right outside. Clean interior too, I promise." I said, which resulted in a long sigh by Danielle followed by a small giggle.

"You won't give up, will you? Fine, I'll go with you guys, but I need to be back at the hotel before midnight, or else I'm going to get in so much trouble with my manager."

"Oh my god, I can't believe it. Yes, deal. Don't worry about it. It won't take long. We can take you there after we eat." I said, feeling absolutely delighted by the fact that she had accepted our offer.

"Alright. Just let me text Haerin real quick to let her know I won't be going with them."

Danielle quickly started tapping away on her phone, while the three of us were waiting patiently for her to finish, so that we could go.

"Okay, done. I'm all yours until midnight. Lead the way, guys."

The three of us lead her outside and into our car. It was already quite dark outside, so luckily Dani wasn't recognized on our way to the car, and after a quick five-minute drive, we arrived at my mom's restaurant. It was very rare for her to have customers this late in the night, and thankfully, we were the only ones there.

"Hi mom. How's it going?"

"The usual at these hours. Nothing to do, just wrapping up to go home. What are you doing here this late at night?"

"Grabbing some food, what do you think?"

"Oh, yeah? What do you want?"

"My favorite, of course."

"What do you guys want?" I asked, turning to the others.

"I'll take a double bacon cheeseburger, fries, and a Coke." Jake said, after thoroughly scanning the menu above the counter.

"I'll have a chicken sandwich with extra pickles, curly fries, and a Sprite." Max said.

"Good choice, Max." My mom chimed in, scribbling their orders down.

"What do you recommend, Alex? You know this place better than anyone." Danielle asked, her shifting between the menu and me.

"Hmm...it depends on what you’re in the mood for. If you’re starving, the BBQ burger is amazing—tons of flavor, and my mom’s sauce is the best. But if you’re feeling lighter, the grilled chicken salad is pretty popular too."

"You had me at BBQ burger. I like to feel full.” She said with a playful smirk that made my heart skip a beat.

"Great choice." My mom said with a warm smile, jotting it down before glancing back at me.

"Forgive me for asking, but I don't recognize you. Are you his new girlfriend?" My mom added, making my face turn red instantly.

"Wha—no! She’s just a friend! Well, not even—uh—we just met. She’s..."

"No, no! We’re not dating. I've just met him, actually." Danielle responded, as she briefly burst out laughing, clearly finding the whole situation hilarious.

"Alright, alright." My mom said with a knowing smirk, clearly enjoying my embarrassment. I cleared my throat, desperate to change the subject.

"Anyways, let’s grab a booth. Food won’t take long."

We settled into the corner booth, and Danielle sat right next to me, with Max and Jake sitting right in front of us. I was beyond nervous by the fact that the girl of my dreams was literally just centimeters away from me. It was a miracle that my heart hadn't bursted out of my chest yet.

"Your mom seems really nice. This place is cute, too. I can’t wait to try the food." Danielle commented.

"Thank you. You have no idea how happy it makes me that you're here. It's been such an honor to meet you and get the chance to talk to you." I said, feeling a little more at ease now.

The food didn't take long, and once we got it, all four of us started eating like we had never seen food in our lives. We kept on talking between bites, and Danielle was a lot more comfortable around us.

The four of us finished our meals, the conversation flowing easily and punctuated with laughter. Danielle leaned back in her seat with a content sigh.

"This was amazing. Thank you so much for bringing me here." She said, patting her stomach.

"Ah, you’re welcome. I’m just glad you enjoyed it."

"It's getting late. I really need you to take me to my hotel."

"No problem. Let's get going then." I said, thanking my mom for the food.

Danielle, Max and Jake chimed in with their own expressions of gratitude to my mom, who waved us off with a warm smile as we left the restaurant.

The drive to Danielle’s hotel was short but filled with easy chatter, the kind of banter that made it feel like we’d known each other for longer than just an hour or so.

When we pulled up outside the Pendry Chicago hotel, the bustling energy of the city seemed to melt into the quiet hum of the upscale lobby.

Danielle led the way to the elevator, and we followed her to the top floor, where her suite was located. As we stepped out, we spotted her manager standing near her door, his phone in hand. His stressed expression immediately softened with relief when he saw her.

"Danielle! Oh my god, where have you been?! I’ve been trying to reach you for hours!"

"I was just walking around the city." She replied casually, brushing off his concern.

"Walking around the city?" He repeated, his tone rising in disbelief.

"You know you can’t do that. It’s not safe, and it’s definitely not allowed!"

"And these three? Who are they?" He asked, glancing warily at me, Max, and Jake.

"Just some guys I met tonight." She said with a nonchalant shrug.

Before he could respond, Danielle turned to her door, pulling out her keycard. She pushed it open and glanced back at us with a raised brow.

"You guys coming in or what?"

My jaw practically hit the floor. Was she serious? I blinked a few times, trying to process what she’d just said. Slowly, I turned to look at Max and Jake, who were standing just behind me on either side. They looked just as shocked as I felt, their expressions almost comical as they pointed at themselves in unison, as if to say, 'Who? Us?'

I opened my mouth to respond, but her manager beat me to it.

"Absolutely not!" He exclaimed, stepping forward.

"You know it’s against the rules in your contract to have anyone in your room, let alone—"

"Let alone three guys I just met?" Danielle cut him off, her tone sharp and defiant.

"I don’t give a fuck about the stupid rules in my contract or what Hybe or Ador think. I’m not a child, and I sure as hell don’t need a babysitter."

"Danielle…" The manager’s voice softened, almost pleading.

"Look..." She interrupted, her voice lowering as she stepped closer to him.

"Keep this between us, and I’ll make sure you’re…rewarded, at another time."

The manager hesitated, clearly conflicted, before letting out a defeated sigh.

"Fine. But this better not come back to haunt me. And your reward better be good, like last time."

"It will not come back to haunt you, don't worry. Also, have you ever been disappointed by my rewards?" Danielle said firmly, a satisfied smile playing on her lips.

The manager gulped and shook his head. Danielle smirked before she turned back to us and gestured inside.

"Well? Are you guys coming in or not?"

We exchanged uncertain glances, but none of us hesitated for long before slipping past her manager and stepping into her suite.

The moment I stepped inside, I was struck by the understated luxury of the space. The room was sleek and modern, yet cozy, with warm wood tones and elegant furnishings that gave it an inviting feel. A plush king-sized bed dominated the left side of the room, its crisp white linens perfectly arranged. Floor-to-ceiling windows stretched across the far wall, revealing a stunning view of the Chicago skyline glittering under the night sky.

A stylish seating area featured a curved velvet sofa and a low marble coffee table. On the side, a large desk sat near the window, holding an arrangement of fresh flowers and a leather-bound notepad stamped with the Pendry logo. To the right, I noticed a doorway leading to the marble bathroom, which I could see featured a soaking tub and a walk-in rain shower.

"Wow..." I whispered.

Jake and Max followed closely behind me, each of them equally awestruck.

"This is insane, man..." Jake said.

"It’s just a hotel room. You guys act like you’ve never seen one before." Danielle said, whilst chuckling, clearly amused by our reactions.

"Forgive me for breaking up this little moment, but what are we exactly doing here?" Max asked.

"Well...I like you guys, and I just simply wasn't ready to end the night. Plus, I love making my manager mad."

"So, what do you wanna do?" I asked.

"Hmmmm...I don't know..." She said.

"How about we play truth or dare?" Max asked.

"Or maybe...we could play spin the bottle!" Jake added.

"Why not both? We spin the bottle, and the person who spins it has to ask whoever it lands on either truth or dare."

"Sounds like fun. Count me in." I said.

Danielle stood up with a small, thoughtful smile and walked over to grab a glass bottle of water from the mini fridge.

We all moved to the plush, beige carpet in the center of the suite. Its fluffy texture felt inviting and warm beneath us as we formed a loose circle. Danielle placed the bottle in the middle, and we all exchanged excited but nervous looks before the first spin.

The initial rounds were hesitant, filled with safe, uninspired choices. Everyone seemed cautious, with most opting for truth, while dares remained untouched. Whenever one of us guys spun the bottle, and it landed on another guy, it led to awkward laughter and an immediate "truth" declaration. The room remained lighthearted, but the game had yet to gain momentum. It felt like everyone was testing the waters, unsure of how far to push the boundaries.

That wasn't until Danielle took her turn. Her bottle landed on me, and my heart rate skyrocketed.

"So, what'll it be, Alex? Truth or dare?"

"Let's change it up, for once. Dare."

"Mmmm...I dare you to give me a foot massage all the way until my next turn."

"A foot massage?"

"Yep. My feet are killing me." She replied, lifting her legs and resting her feet in my lap.

Danielle’s feet rested lightly in my lap as I hesitated, trying to figure out how to start. Her socks were pristine white, the kind that looked soft to the touch. My fingers pressed gently into the fabric, testing the waters.

"You know...you can take them off..." Dani casually said.

My hands stilled, and I glanced up, searching her face for any sign that she might be joking. She wasn’t. Her expression was calm but expectant, like she was enjoying my flustered reaction.

“Uh…okay.” I muttered, tugging gently at the hem of one sock. The material slid off smoothly, revealing her bare foot. It was delicate, her toes neatly shaped, her skin soft and slightly pink from being in the sock. I swallowed hard, suddenly hyper-aware of the intimacy of the moment.

“Much better.” She said, smiling as she wiggled her cute toes.

The second sock came off just as easily, and with her bare feet resting in my lap, the massage resumed. My thumbs worked into her arch with a bit more confidence, gliding over the smooth skin. Her foot was warm under my touch, and every so often, I caught her shifting slightly, relaxing into the sensation.

"Hmmm...that feels so nice." She said softly, leaning back on her hands with a satisfied sigh.

I tried to focus, but the quiet approval in her tone made it nearly impossible to ignore the heat creeping up my neck. Across from me, Jake and Max were barely containing themselves. Jake raised his eyebrows in disbelief, while Max shot me a thumbs-up, a grin plastered on his face.

I ignored them, focusing instead on Danielle’s feet. The game continued around us, but I barely noticed. Every so often, Danielle let out a contented hum, her feet shifting slightly as I adjusted the pressure.

"Alex? Alex???"

"What?" I asked, snapping out of it.

"Truth or dare?" Max asked. I was ready to just say truth, but he started moving his mouth in an exaggerated manner, almost like he was giving me a signal, and mouthing something along the lines of 'dare'.

"Dare."

"I dare you...to lick one of Danielle's foot."

The moment Max dropped the dare, the whole atmosphere shifted. A stunned silence settled over the group, the playful energy from earlier replaced with a mix of shock and nervous laughter. Jake widened his eyes, leaning back slightly, as if trying to process what he’d just heard. Danielle raised an eyebrow, her expression caught somewhere between amused curiosity and disbelief, her lips curling into a faint, teasing smirk. The tension hung in the air, not heavy or uncomfortable, but charged with the awkward excitement of a challenge that pushed boundaries.

Even though I wasn't that much into feet, given it was Danielle, I obviously wanted to do it, but I didn't know if she wanted it or not, and I wasn't going to risk this nice time we were all having, and potentially ruining a possible friendship with her. That was until of course, she decided to speak up.

"Well?" Danielle's voice cut through the silence, her tone light and teasing.

"Are you going to keep me waiting, or are you going to get started?" She said, tilting her head slightly, her smirk daring me to back down, but I wasn't going to, not now that she had given me the green light.

That being said, I was still a bit nervous, something she picked it up very quickly.

"Don’t worry, Alex. I’m not going to bite." Dani said, as she immediately put her foot on my face and started pinching my nose with her toes, giggling like a little girl, before I swatted it away, with a chuckle.

Her laugh was music to my ears, and it was enough to ease my nerves and give me the confidence boost I needed.

Without wasting another second, I gently grabbed her foot, and brought it up to my face. I gave a quick glance at her beautiful face before shifting my attention to her foot and started licking the sole.

As soon as my tongue hit her skin, Danielle tensed. Her toes curled, and a slight tremor ran through her leg. I paused, worried that she had changed her mind. But then, I caught the edge of her smirk, the slightest hint of pink in her cheeks, and I kept going.

Her foot had a salty, slightly sweet flavor, the taste of sweat mixing with something else, a softness that was undeniably feminine, yet strangely intoxicating. The more I licked, the more I wanted to explore her delicate curves and taste every inch.

My tongue dragged slowly over her heel, her arch, the top of her foot. Every inch of skin tasted clean, her natural scent mixing with a subtle, flowery aroma from her lotion.

She let out a quiet breath, her lips parting slightly as she relaxed. A small smile played on her face, her eyes half-lidded and unfocused, like she was enjoying the sensation.

Once I got to her toes, I dragged my tongue along each one, giving a teasing suck, before I put her big toe in my mouth and began sucking on it.

"Ohhh...fuck..." She whispered. Her eyes closed, and her head tilted back, her lips parting as she let out a breathy moan.

The sound sent a shiver of arousal through me, and I instinctively tugged on her toe, pulling it further into my mouth. Danielle gasped, her body arching, her eyes fluttering open.

"Ah, that tickles..." She said, giggling before pulling her foot away, and putting it on my chest.

"I'm sorry. I'm quite sensitive."

"You have nothing to be sorry about. It's perfectly normal." I said.

Danielle smiled briefly, before putting her foot away, and we resumed the game shortly after. She spun the bottle and it landed on Max.

"Dare."

"Whoa, you didn't even let me ask you, ah ah."

"Okay...hmmm...let me think..."

"How about this...I dare you to take off your shirt."

Danielle’s dare left the room in stunned silence for a moment. Jake and I exchanged wide-eyed glances, trying to process if we had heard her correctly. Max, meanwhile, froze mid-laugh, his bravado faltering for just a second before he quickly composed himself.

"You serious?" He asked, leaning back slightly as if to gauge her intentions. Danielle nodded, an innocent smile on her face that somehow made her dare feel even bolder.

"What? It's not that big of a deal." She said with a playful shrug, her tone light but undeniably teasing.

"Wait, really? Do you really want me to do that?"

"Yes, really. I'm already partially naked, so it's only fair someone else is also a bit naked." She said, wiggling her naked feet and toes around.

"Alright, no problem. I did not see that coming." He muttered under his breath, as he stood up and removed his shirt, revealing his well-built chest and abs, causing her to widen her eyes in surprise.

"Woah...your body is pretty amazing."

"Thanks..." Max said, blushing slightly before sitting back down.

"Alright, my turn now." I said.

I span the bottle and I finally managed to get it to land on Danielle.

"Truth or dare."

"Hmmm...truth." She said, much to my disappointment. I really thought she would've gone with dare at this point of the game, but maybe she just wanted to change it up. I quickly tried to come up with something to ask her.

"Uhmmm, okay...I got one. Have you ever made out with one of your bandmates?" I asked, and I saw Danielle's smile grow bigger and bigger. She didn't even try to hide it.

"I have...I won't lie, I have."

"Do you...care to say which member?"

"You only get one question per turn, Alex."

Unfortunately, I never did get that answer, as for the next few turns, Danielle was getting way too lucky with the spins, with the bottle somehow always avoiding her. That was until Jake spun it, and it landed on Danielle, after what felt like three or four full rotations.

"Truth or dare, Dani?"

"Dare." She said, avoiding truth at all cost, so that she wouldn't have to share who her NewJeans make out buddy was.

"I dare you...to kiss whoever you think the hottest guy in this room is."

At that moment, I thought there was no chance she would go through with it, but when she started scanning the three of us, it looked like she was genuinely thinking about this and going through with it.

Needless to say, I really wanted her to pick me. I was so nervous about the fact that it could happen that I didn't even see her looking at me. Our eyes met, and she quickly nodded two times. I barely had any time to process it before I saw her lean forward on her knees and plant a kiss on my lips.

The kiss was soft and delicate, just like her lips. Her scent enveloped me, and the taste of her sweet lips lingered, leaving me yearning for the moment to continue.

She pulled away before I could kiss her back, leaving me stunned and speechless, a charged silence hanging between us. Her eyes met mine again, and at that moment, I just couldn't resist her any longer.

I instinctively moved my hand to her waist, pulling her closer to me, right before planting my lips on hers. She wrapped her arms around my neck, her fingers tangling in my hair as we lost ourselves in the kiss, our bodies pressed together, a heat building between us.

This felt like it had been building up ever since we met just a few hours ago, and now that it was finally happening, all I wanted was for this moment to last forever.

It didn't though. Danielle pulled away rather quickly, breaking the kiss, but for good reason. She put her hands on my shirt, and began pulling it upwards.

"I think you're wearing way too many clothes, Alex."

As soon as my shirt was off, she kissed me again, but instead of going for it again and resuming our make out session, she stopped, and began crawling towards Jake, who had his jaw on the floor.

"Do y..."

"Shhh, shut up." She said, cutting him off with a kiss, as the two started making out.

Just like she did with me, she only stopped to take off his shirt, revealing his muscular chest, and then went back to making out with him.

I didn't know what was going on in her head, or why she was doing this, but it was pretty clear that she was enjoying herself, and was definitely enjoying the moment.

Their moment didn't last long, as Dani pulled away and shifted to her right, hoping to get to Max, only to find out he had gone behind and around her to join me by my side. She crawled to him, and he dropped down to her height, putting his hand lightly around her neck and making her look right into his eyes, before he started kissing her.

Danielle and Max kept kissing, and unlike with Jake and I, she didn't have to worry about taking off his shirt, as it was already off from earlier. They kept kissing for a while longer, before Max stood up, breaking their kiss.

What Dani did next surprised me even more, but was something that I had no issue with, and neither did Max if I had to take a guess. Danielle put one of her hands on his jeans whilst she put the other one on mine, and started rubbing both of our crotches at the same time.

"All of you are wearing way too many clothes."

"Wanna do something about it?" Jake asked.

I could see Danielle's smirk creep up again, and before I knew it, she had taken her hand off my crotch and put it on his. I had Danielle right in front of me, on her knees looking up at me as her hands kept rubbing Max's and Jake's bulges through their pants.

"I would love to do something about it."

Before anyone could respond, Danielle leaned in and put her face right in front of my bulge. She started rubbing her nose and lips all over it, and it took me a few moments to realize what she was trying to do.

At first, I thought she was only trying to tease me, but all of a sudden I saw her with my zipper between her teeth, and felt my pants slide down, at the exact same time she pulled Jake and Max's jeans down with her hands.

"Ah...much better." She said, another smile forming on her face.

"Dani, this is crazy!" Jake said.

"Shhh...just keep this between us."

"You don't have to worry." I said.

"Hmmm, good, because I really need this."

"I really need all of your cocks." She added, and just like she did with my zipper, she somehow managed to put the elastic band of my underwear between her teeth and pull it down, revealing my throbbing cock that hit her right on her chin.

"Oh, wow..." She said, her eyes widening in awe.

"Clean shaven, just how I like em'."

The sight of seeing my cock right next to Danielle's perfect face was one that was burned into my brain forever. Her lips were so close to my tip, and I could sense how badly she wanted it.

Jake and Max broke my little moment with her moans and I took a quick glance to realize Danielle already had her hands wrapped around their cocks, jerking them off.

"You have no idea how badly I need you guys."

Seeing them getting pleasured by her made me want the exact same thing, and she knew that.

With her eyes locked on mine, Danielle leaned in and started planting a few kisses on the tip of my cock, sending chills throughout my body. Her lips felt so soft, and the wet sensation from her tongue felt incredible.

"Mmm, fuck, Dani..." I moaned.

"Does that feel good?" She asked, smiling and pulling away briefly.

"So good..."

She leaned in again to get closer to my cock, but this time, I decided to play hard to get, and move my cock away, and put it against her face.

"Nooooooo...please, don't do that." She said, pouting and giving me puppy dog eyes, as if I had taken away her favourite toy.

"Do what?" I asked, to which it earned a roll of the eyes from her.

"Tell me what you want, Dani."

"I wanna suck your dick."

"Is that really what you want?"

"Yes. It's so big, and it looks so tasty and delicious."

"I just want it buried down my throat, please." She added, opening her mouth wide and sticking out her tongue. I couldn't resist her any longer, even if I wanted.

I grabbed hold of my dick and guided it straight into her mouth, letting her warm breath and tongue engulf my tip. I had dreamt of this moment more times than I could remember, but none of my dreams could live up to the reality of having Danielle's lips around my cock.

Deep down, I really wanted to grab her head and push her further down my cock, but I decided against it. I was more than happy to let her go at her own slow pace, and enjoy the feeling of having her suck the tip of my dick.

Danielle kept on bobbing her head back and forth, swirling her tongue around my cock, her lips wrapped tightly around it. I was in disbelief on how she managed to look so beautiful with my dick in her mouth.

"I honestly don't know how do you manage to look like an angel whilst pleasuring all of our cocks at once."

"That's because I am an angel, but I can switch it up if you guys want. I can be your naughty little cumslut for the night."

"Wait, really?"

"Yeah. Do you guys want that?"

"Absolutely. Get over here." Max said, grabbing a handful of her hair and pulling her over to him, guiding his cock inside her mouth.

He didn't force her to take his cock down her throat like I thought he was going to, instead just letting Dani suck his dick however she pleased. Danielle however was the one that surprised me, by rapidly sucking his cock from the very moment she had Max's dick in her mouth.

I didn't know how she managed to go from cute and innocent whilst pleasuring us to a total slut in just a matter of seconds, but I wasn't going to complain, not even for a second.

"Fuck, Dani, you are insane..." He moaned, bringing a smile to her face as she continued to pleasure him, all whilst stroking Jake and I at the same time.

When Danielle finally let Max's hard cock flop out of her mouth, and moved over to Jake to take him in into her warm throat, she replaced the left hand she had on my shaft with her right. When she reached out for Max's cock with her left hand and began stroking us off whilst rapidly sucking Jake, I knew this was far from the first time she's handled multiple dicks at once.

The three of us had shared quite a fair share of women between us over the years, and even though none of them were a celebrity like Danielle, we could still spot an experienced woman when we saw one. The way she never let us go unattended, and the way her hand and mouth switched between the three of us, proved that this wasn't her first rodeo.

"You seem to know what you're doing." Jake said, letting out a deep moan as she went all the way down on him.

"It's not the first time I've had three dicks around me."

"Oh, really? Do tell."

"Maybe later. I'm quite busy right now." She said, putting her lips around my shaft and starting to suck me off again.

Her sucking was more aggressive and rougher than last time, almost as if she wanted my cock to be dripping with saliva. Every single one of her slurps were loud and lewd, and it was clear that she wanted all of us to hear them.

"Fuckkk, all of your cocks taste so fucking good."

"Yeah?"

"Mmmh mmmh...I could suck your big cocks all night long."

It was clear to me that she wanted nothing more than to be passed around the three of us, and to be used for our pleasure, so I decided to use that to our advantage.

"I bet you could. Do you want us to take turns with you?"

"Mmh mmmh..." She moaned, nodding as she kept sucking my cock.

"I want to get fucked by all of you...I want you guys to use me like a fuckdoll."

"I wanna deepthroat that big dick of yours...make it nice and wet, then have you shove it down my tight little pussy."

"Then have you rail me, and make me scream as I take all of your huge cock deep inside me."

"I just want all of you to make me your little cumslut."

"Is that really what you want?"

"It's what I need."

"Prove it, Dani." I said, knowing full well that she was going to take that challenge.

She took a deep breath and opened her mouth, inviting me in, and I wasted no time pushing myself inside her. Danielle relaxed her throat and took every inch of me in, deepthroating my whole length until her lips meeting my pelvis, and her nose buried in my groin.

"Fuckkk, Dani...you're so fucking hot with my cock shoved down your throat.

"Mmmhh."

Danielle moaned around my cock, and looked up at me, her eyes watering slightly, but not even a hint of pain on her face. Her tongue ran along the bottom of my shaft, massaging it, and she kept bobbing her head back and forth, gagging a few times but never stopping.

Danielle was an absolute menace, and she was driving me wild. She put her hands around my legs and started pushing her head further down my cock, essentially impaling herself on it.

She held it there, my cock buried deep down her throat, her eyes closed, tears streaming down her cheeks. Then, her grip on my legs tightened, and she pulled back, slowly, her eyes widening, gasping for air.

"Fuck...so good. I love sucking big cocks like yours so much." She said, before she took a quick breath and went straight back down, her head bobbing faster and faster.

Her lips were wrapped tight around me, her tongue swirling and dancing along my length. It was clear she was trying to drain my balls and milk me for all I had, and I had no issue with it.

"I love how thick and hard your cock feels in my mouth."

Danielle might've been the one that was doing all the work, but it was me who was exhausted, and I could barely catch my breath. Never in a million year I thought I would ever be in this position, with Dani on her knees in front of me, my hard cock in her hand.

I could only stand there and moan her name, as she ran her tongue along the underside of my shaft, before popping my balls into her mouth, her tongue flicking over them as her hand ran up and down my dick.

"Ah...fuckkk, Dani..."

"You like that, baby?"

"Yes, it feels incredible."

"Good. I wanna make you feel so good." She said, resuming her blowjob with added intensity.

Danielle rapidly started sucking and stroking my cock at the same time, slurping all over it, her lips making lewd and sloppy noises. I was mesmerized by her, and the way her eyes rolled back every time her head bobbed forward.

The only thing better than her hands and lips on my dick was the fact that I was about to feel the tightest and wettest hole imaginable. My cock was throbbing in her mouth at the thought of getting to fuck her, and it was begging for release.

I tapped the back of her head to let her know I was about to blow, but, quite predictably, she didn't slow down, and instead she just bobbed her head even faster along my length for several seconds before deepthroating my cock in one swift motion, sending me to a point of no return.

"Fuck, Dani! I'm gonna fucking cum." I said as I held her head in place, making her gag on my cock, before my hips bucked forward as my orgasm hit me, and I started spurting hot ropes of cum to the back of her throat.

"Oh, fuck yes! Take all of my cum, Dani..."

Danielle gagged and choked as she took each and every shot down her throat, swallowing all of my load without wasting a single drop, and not stopping even when I let go of her.

I was still cumming when she pulled off, and some of my cum coated her lips and her chin, covering her in a thick layer of my seed.

"Fuck, I'm sorry. I couldn't help myself. I really wanted to taste your cum." She said, licking the cum off her lips and wiping her chin, before cleaning off her fingers and her palms, leaving no trace of my seed behind.

"Damn, you are such a slut, Dani." Max chimed in, for the greater good, as I really needed to catch my breath after my orgasm.

"Only when I want to..." She responded, grabbing hold of his cock and kissing his tip.

"Danielle, girl...before you have fun with Max and Jake...how about we get you naked." I said, struggling to get my words out.

"Oh my god, of course. I'm sorry. I was just so focused sucking your big cocks that I completely forgot that I still have my clothes on."

"It's alright. Come here."

Danielle quickly rose to her feet and I pulled her towards me, planting my lips on hers. We kissed for a couple of seconds before I spun her around. With her back against my chest, I started kissing her neck as I put hands on her shirt, and started pulling it up, revealing her sexy and perfect body, my hands immediately going to her chest and grabbing her tits.

Her breasts weren't big, but they were perfectly perky and had a nice round shape to them, with two adorable and cute little nipples on top.

I saw Max and Jake step closer and I knew what they wanted, so I started roaming my hands down her body as I lowered myself behind her. Danielle started moaning, and even though I couldn't see it, I knew they were having fun playing with her perky tits.

"Mmmm, fuck, yesss. Play with them...they're all yours."

I put my hands on her jeans and slid them down her legs, taking her panties off as I did so. Danielle was finally fully naked and ready to be used as she so badly desired.

I had the perfect view of her ass and pussy, the latter looking absolutely soaked. Her pussy was clean-shaven, not a hair in sight and her slit was glistening, her folds looking so smooth and soft.

Her cunt looked so inviting and I couldn't resist any longer. I moved a finger to her lips, running it up and down her slit, feeling how wet she was, her folds sticky and slippery at the same time.

"Mmmm, ohhh, Alex."

"You're already so fucking wet. Do you like sucking cock that much, Dani?"

"I do...I love it. Sucking cock gets me so horny, fuckkk." She moaned, when I inserted one of my fingers into her tight little hole.

"Yeah...I can see that. Do you want one in your pussy, baby?"

"Oh, fuck yes. I want you inside me."

"What about us, Dani? Do you want us inside you too?" Jake asked.

"God yes, I want you guys to use me."

"Do you think you can take all of us?" Max asked.

"Oh, I definitely can. All of your cocks are so big and thick and I can't wait to feel them inside me, but first, I want you two to take turns fucking my face and making me gag on your huge dicks whilst Alex rails me from behind." She said, whilst keeping a firm grip on their cocks.

"Is that really want you want, Dani?"

"Yes, please. I can't wait to get your big cock inside my pussy."

"Neither can I."

"Mmm, good, because I've been craving to be pounded by it."

"How do you want me?"

"On all fours, Dani." I said.

Danielle hastily got on the bed, assuming the position, and arched her back, her cute ass up in the air. I followed suit and positioned myself behind her, grabbing hold of her hips as I pushed the tip of my cock between her folds, sliding it up and down her slit, teasing her, but she was having none of it.

"Please, don't fucking tease me. I need you to fuck me right now. I can't wait any longer, Alex."

"Just stick that big fat cock of yours in me, fuck my brains out and ruin my pussy."

As much as I wanted to keep teasing her, I didn't want to get on her bad side, so I simply complied and pushed my dick past her folds and deep inside her pussy, making her squeal.

"Fuckkkk...god, you're so big and thick...this is just what I needed."

Her pussy was tight, but at the same time felt so wet and soft, and I could feel it squeezing my shaft as I slowly slid inside her.

"Ahhh, fuck, I could just stay like this forever. Your cock feels so good in me."

Her moans were music to my ears, but as much as I would've liked to savor the moment, I was desperate to fuck her brains out, so I pulled back, and slowly thrust into her again, letting her get used to my length and girth.

I could feel her juices run down my shaft and drip down her legs as I started picking up the pace, pounding her harder and faster with each passing second. Her tight little pussy felt amazing around my dick and it was impossible to not go fast and rough.

"Oh yesss...give it to me, Alex. Faster."

"And you two...come here and shove those cocks down my throat."

Max and Jake stood and watched our little show for a while before they decided to get in on the fun. They crawled on the bed, positioning themselves in front of Danielle.

Unsurprisingly for me, Max was the first one to take action, grabbing hold of her head and guiding his cock towards her open mouth. Danielle gladly took him, engulfing his cock completely and he didn't waste one second before he started face fucking her, using Dani for his pleasure.

"Take this cock, you fucking slut." He said, hammering away at her throat.

Danielle was moaning and whimpering around his cock, whilst her hands were busy playing with Jake's shaft, jerking him off.

It didn't take long before Jake got his opportunity to get a taste of her lips as Max pulled out, and Jake's dick entered her mouth, filling her up completely. Jake grabbed a fistful of her hair and held her head in place, as he started thrusting his hips back and forth, making her gag a few times.

"Holy shit, Dani, your throat is fucking amazing." He groaned, holding her head and pushing her further down his shaft, his cock disappearing down her throat, leaving her no room to breathe.

Danielle was a moaning mess, and the only thing she could do was take him deeper, her throat bulging and her eyes watering.

Soon enough, they started taking turns with Danielle's mouth, making her deepthroat their dicks for a couple of thrusts before passing her to the other.

Watching them both use her like a fuckdoll only added fuel to the fire, and the more she moaned and squealed, the rougher I fucked her.

I was balls deep inside her, her walls squeezing me with each one of my thrusts, and she was getting wetter by the second. My hands were moving up and down her back and her ass, and the sound of our skin slapping against each other was echoing through the room, mixing in with her muffled moans and their groans.

I couldn't stop myself from spanking her and slapping her ass, watching it jiggle every time my hand came in contact with her cheeks.

"God, you look so fucking hot getting railed from behind, Dani." Max said.

"Mmmmh. Alex...he's fucking me so good, goshhh."

"Yeah? Are you enjoying having our cocks shoved down your throat and pussy?"

"I am. I'm such a fucking slut for big dicks."

"Do you think you could handle both of our cocks in your tight little holes?" Jake asked.

"I would love nothing more than to have these two huge cocks inside my ass and my pussy." Danielle said, as she grabbed their shafts and pressed them together, before taking them both into her mouth, making her lips and jaw stretch wide.

Danielle's foul language made her even sexier and it was getting increasingly difficult to not just pound her and bust a nut. She was so tight and warm and wet and the way her pussy swallowed every inch of my dick, clenching and gripping it, was driving me crazy.

I knew that I had to slow down or else I was going to finish much earlier than I wanted, so I pulled out of Dani's tight cunt. I looked at her freshly fucked pussy and admired the sight in front of me. Her entrance was glistening and I could see a mixture of her juices and my pre-cum dripping out of her.

I couldn't help but reach out and rub her slit for a couple of seconds, before I dove in and started eating her out. Her cunt was even sweeter than her lips, and the taste was intoxicating.

My tongue explored her folds, flicking over her clit, making her hips buck and her ass push back against me. I could her moaning, but her voice was muffled. I could feel her getting wetter and wetter, and she tasted better than any other woman I had ever been with.

"Hey, Alex...could you give us a go? I'm dying to fuck her." Max said.

I knew how badly he and Jake wanted to have a go with her, but I wasn't ready to let go of her so soon.

"Just let me fuck her a little bit longer. She'll be yours in no time." I said, hurrying up to get my dick inside her.

Danielle was still devouring Jake and Max's cocks, making sure they were nice and wet for both of her holes when I slid myself into her again. I was determined to fuck her rough, and give her the pounding she wanted, and was no doubt begging for. I put my hands on her hips and started slamming into her, fucking her like as hard as I could, my hips slapping her ass.

Each thrust was fueling my lust for her, so I grabbed her hair with my right hand and pulled her off their cocks, pulling her towards my body and wrapping my left arm around her as I fucked her senseless, pounding her with deep and rapid thrusts, her perky tits bouncing wildly.

"Oh, fuck me, Alex. Yes, just like that. Do me hard, baby."

"You like getting fucked hard, don't you, Dani?" I asked, my arms now scattered around her perfect body, one playing with her tits and the other rubbing her clit.

Danielle was too lost in her ecstasy to answer and it wasn't long before she let out a scream, her pussy squirting on my shaft and coating it with her juices, before I let go of her, and she fell on the bed, right next to Jake and Max, who were stroking their hard cocks.

"Ahhh, fuck, oh goshhh." She moaned, her eyes rolling back, her orgasm sending waves of pleasure throughout her body.

"I.....I can't believe you just made me cum."

"I never cum with just one cock inside me." She added, making me smirk.

"Are you okay?" Jake asked, with a concerned look on his face.

"I...I couldn't possibly be better."

"She's all yours, guys." I said, making my way towards them so they could have a go at her.

"So.....which one of you guys is going to take my tiny little asshole?"

I didn't need a crystal ball to know the answer to Danielle's question, and the look on Max's face confirmed my suspicions. Danielle took a step to the side, allowing Jake to lay down on the bed.

"Come here, Dani." He said, beckoning her towards him.

Danielle slowly walked towards him and sat down on top of him, her pussy rubbing up and down his length.

"Oh, god. Fuck, your cock feels so good between my pussy lips."

"Mmmmh. It's about to feel even better."

Danielle rose to her knees, and took a hold of Jake's dick. She placed it at her entrance and slowly lowered herself, her pussy swallowing every inch of him.

"Ahhhh, fuck." She moaned, putting her hands on his chest, steadying herself as she looked into his eyes.

Max, meanwhile, positioned himself behind her, and began running his cock up and down her ass crack, his fingers caressing her soft and smooth cheeks.

"Are you ready, Dani?"

"Yes. Put it in and stretch me out."

I simply stood there in front of her, slowly stroking myself off whilst looking at her face, waiting for the moment her jaw would drop, and her mouth would open, and luckily, it didn't take long for that moment to arrive.

Danielle's mouth hung open, her eyes widening, as Max started pushing his cock past her tight little ring, sliding his dick inside her ass.

"Holy fuck...you're stretching me out so good. God, you're both so big."

"Yeah? Do you like the feeling of both of our cocks inside you, Dani?"

"Fuck, yes, I love it. I want you guys to make a slut out of me."

"Good, because we're just getting started." Max said, spanking her ass.

"Are you enjoying the show?" She suddenly asked, turning her attention to me, before licking her lips.

"I am." I replied, taking a step forward.

"Why don't you come a little closer so I can give you a kiss, Alex."

Without hesitation, I took a step forward and leaned in to kiss her, but she swatted my head away and shook her head.

"No, idiot...ah ah. Not that kind of kiss. I want your cock in my mouth, baby."

I honestly couldn't believe that a guy like me didn't catch on to that, but I quickly shook those thoughts away and put my dick right in her face. I slapped her face and her tongue with my hard cock before letting Danielle plant kisses all over my shaft, but mainly focusing on the tip of my cock.

I was so lost in the moment, that I hadn't realized that Max and Jake began thrusting in and out of her, their cocks moving in sync. Danielle's mouth was hanging open and I wasted no time putting my dick between her lips, filling her up completely.

Her eyes rolled back and I could tell that she was having a blast, and she wasn't the only one. I could hear the boys moan and groan and it was clear they were getting the same level of pleasure she was.

"You like having a cock in each hole, don't you, baby?" Max asked to no response, as I found out that Danielle would rather be airtight and keep bobbing her head up and down, taking me as deep as possible instead of replying.

The view of her head moving up and down my cock, her lips tightly wrapped around my dick and sliding down my shaft whilst both her holes were being penetrated and filled up with cock was mind-blowing and I knew it was going to send me over the edge sooner rather than later, so I momentarily stopped her, and pulled out of her mouth, not wanting to cum so soon.

"Fuck, why did you pull out? Put that cock back in my mouth, I wanna keep sucking it."

"I don't wanna cum so soon, and I really want to cover your face."

"Don't you dare cum on her face when I'm under her, mate. I don't wanna be in the line of fire when that happens." Jake replied, making Dani and I burst out laughing.

"Well, I guess I have to make you guys cum first, then."

I honestly thought things couldn't get any hotter, but when Danielle started bouncing on their dicks and riding them, they did. There was just something about seeing my two best friends fucking the shit out of my favourite K-pop idol in the world, and it turned me on more than I had ever imagined.

I could see their shafts moving in and out of her and their balls were slapping against her ass with each of their thrusts, as they started fucking her more rapidly.

"Such a good naughty little slut for us, aren't you, Dani?" Max asked, pushing his cock deeper inside her asshole.

"Fuck, yes... I love taking these big cocks. Fuck me harder and fill me up with your cum."

The boys picked up the pace and Danielle's eyes rolled back, her mouth open and her tongue out, her tits bouncing wildly. The way her moans were mixing in with the sounds of their skin slapping against each other was one of the most erotic things I'd ever heard.

"God, I wish you guys could fuck me all night long." She moaned, as her hands wandered around Jake's chest, her nails leaving trails on his skin.

"Are they fucking you good, Dani?"

"So good, Alex. Their big cocks are stretching me out so much."

"Sounds like you are satisfied, then. No need for me to join in."

"No please. I need your cock in my mouth once again."

"Do you, now?"

"I do. I love the taste of it."

"How can I say no to that?"

"You can't. So hurry up and fuck my face." She replied, biting her lip.

With no intention of keeping her waiting, I put my hand on her throat and started kissing her for a couple of seconds, and unsurprisingly, her right hand went straight towards my hard cock, gripping it firmly and stroking it as we kissed.

When I let go of my chokehold, Danielle wasted no time wrapping her soft lips around my dick. I knew she wanted me to fuck her face, so I was caught off guard when she took my whole length down her throat over and over again, basically impaling herself on my cock.

I could see her saliva drip down her chin, as her eyes were glued on mine, and the fact that she didn't stop deepthroating me, made it clear that she wanted to be treated like a slut, so I put both of my hands on the sides of her head and held her in place, before I started giving her the facefucking that she so desperately craved.

The three of us were working in sync, thrusting in and out of her, and it didn't take long for things to pick up speed. We were all so lost in our own little world that we didn't realize just how fast we were going, and it was only when my cock started hitting the back of her throat and she started gagging and choking, that I realized the extent of our speed.

I could hear Jake and Max moan, and I knew they were close, so I decided to pull out of Danielle's mouth and let her breathe.

"Fuck, you guys are going so hard. You're fucking me so good." She said, panting, her breasts rising up and down as she did so.

"You're taking these cocks so well, Dani." Max groaned, his voice laced with lust as he kept ponding her asshole with reckless abandon.

"Mmmh mmmh...use me like the slut I am."

"I want to be your little cum dumpster."

"I want you guys to fill me up with your thick, hot cum."

Danielle's naughty talk was on point, and seeing how much her body was moving every time the boys slammed into her, made me think that they must've been close to their own orgasms.

"Oh fuck, I'm so close, guys. I'm gonna fill her up." Max moaned.

"Do it. Shoot those loads deep inside me."

Danielle didn't have to wait much longer, before Max and Jake started painting her insides with multiple shots of cum, both groaning loudly, their cocks throbbing inside her as they emptied their balls.

"That's it, Dani...take this cum like a good slut." Max said, shooting the last few ropes inside her asshole.

"Damn, I can't believe I just came inside you..." Jake commented, looking into her eyes as she leaned in and kissed him.

"You did such a good job fucking my tight little pussy and filling it up. Thank you."

With Jake's and Max's loads having been taken care of, Danielle got off of them, their dicks flopping out of her holes, and their cum slowly dripping down her thighs.

"Now, it's your turn, Alex." She said, looking straight at me as she dropped to her knees on the carpet, and beckoned me towards her, her tongue hanging out and her hands cupping her tits.

"I wanna suck your big cock and make you cum all over my face."

I didn't need to be told twice, so I quickly walked towards her and pushed my cock into her mouth, her lips immediately wrapping around my shaft and sucking me off, her tongue flicking over the tip.

I had experienced many amazing sensations throughout my life, but nothing would ever top seeing Danielle with my cock in her mouth. She was desperate to make me cum, and began rapidly slurping on my dick, her spit dribbling down her chin and coating my shaft.

"God...I love sucking cock so much."

"I've been such a naughty girl tonight. Punish me, Alex."

"Fuck my face like you mean it."

Her filthy words and her actions were driving me wild, and I could feel my balls tightening. I grabbed a fistful of her hair and started pounding away, giving her what she wanted. I was fucking her mouth like an animal, her moans mixing in with the sloppy sound of her lips sliding down my shaft, and it wasn't long before I was on the verge of my orgasm.

I kept my cock lodged down her throat for a couple more seconds, before pulling out, stroking myself furiously and shooting thick ropes of cum all over her beautiful face, coating a vast majority of her cheeks and eyes with my seed, with some of it even landing on her forehead and hair.

"Mmmmh, yes, give me every last drop, Alex."

"Keep painting my face with your warm cum."

"Fuckkkk..." I groaned, emptying the last few drops onto her nose and lips.

"God, look at all that cum." Jake commented, looking at the mess I made.

"You look so fucking hot right now, Dani." Max added, looking at her with his mouth wide open.

"I do? Maybe I should take a picture?"

"Maybe you should." I said, jokingly.

However, I should've known that a slut like Danielle would've taken it literally. She quickly grabbed her phone and snatched a pic of her cum covered face.

"Now I have something to look at whilst I rub one out when I'm all alone at night, with no cock to suck on or play with."

As soon as she was done with the picture, Danielle began licking her lips, collecting my cum before swallowing it. Dani then scooped the rest of my cum on her face with her fingers, and licked and sucked them clean, as if she had just finished her favourite dish.

"Look at all that cum you gave me. It tastes so good."

"You are so fucking naughty, Dani."

"You don't even know the half of it." She replied, smiling as she sat down on the carpet, her back against the footboard of the bed.

We all sat down there, alongside Danielle. All of us were exhausted and trying to catch our breaths.

"I don't know about you guys, but I really need a shower. Can I use yours, Dani?"

"Of course. You can all take a shower before you leave, if you want."

"I'm going to the bathroom." Jake said, before stepping away, leaving me and Danielle completely alone, in silence. She rested her on my shoulder, and I rested mine on hers.

"Thank you so much for an incredible night." Danielle said, breaking the silence.

"Please, if anyone needs to thank someone, it's us." I said, just before I noticed a droplet of cum fall from her hair onto her knee.

"Damn, you guys really made a mess out of me, didn't you?"

"We sure did." I replied.

"You know...this doesn't need to be the last time." She said, leaving me a bit puzzled.

"I know you guys will go to the concert tomorrow, but how about you spend some time with me backstage before the concert?"

"Wait, really?"

"Yes. I would love nothing more than to go out there and perform alongside my friends, in front of thousands of people, with your load inside me."

"Don't you want that? Don't you want to see me perform, knowing your load is dripping down my thighs on stage?"

"I do. Fuck, I would love that. You're so naughty." I said, pulling her in for a passionate kiss.

For the next thirty minutes, we just stayed next to each other and waited until Max and Jake had taken their separate showers.

They waited for me, but I told them to go home without me, and they left the hotel room. After a while, I left Danielle behind and went to the shower, however she didn't want to wait until I was done, so she joined me, and we ended up having some more fun.

After a very extensive shower, I said my goodbyes to Dani, and headed home, where I immediately went to sleep, the memories of what happened during the night playing on repeat inside my mind, and I couldn't wait to relive it again, in a few hours, at the NewJeans concert.

#danielle smut #newjeans smut #danielle #danielle marsh #newjeans #njz #njz danielle #kpop #kpop smut

823 notes · View notes

bunnyyyuu · 6 months ago

Text

includes: f! reader, aged up! best friend yuuji, cheating, cunnilingus, breeding (kinda), anal mentioned, bad idea mistakes made. not proofread at all

yuuji is the best best friend anyone could ever ask for.

you're sobbing your eyes out? he’s there to rub your back and hold your tissues. you're having health problems that are waaaayy too embarrassing to tell a doctor? he’s doing extensive research to try to figure out how to help you. you're super drunk and throwing up? he’s holding your hair back, whispering how it's all gonna be alright. you're super hungover? don't worry! he has just the thing. you post a picture of yourself? he’s your number one hype man, leaving an insane amount of comments about how you came, served cunt, ate without leaving any crumbs, and left. the point is: he is the best.

unfortunately, however, most guys aren't the biggest fan of girls with a boy best friend. but don't fret! yuuji will be there to comfort you about feeling lonely. after all, he's always here for you.

oh! fortunately, however, you finally find yourself in a relationship with a guy that just adores you, and doesn't give two shits about yuuji as long as he doesn't pull anything. and, of course, yuuji would never pull anything.

not-so-fortunately, however, after over a year of dating, your amazing boyfie is gone on a work trip for months.

you have needs! needs he’d usually be fulfilling! how could he leave you like this? all alone! it's so sad, truly. your hands or measly toys will never feel as good as the real thing.

naturally, tmi has never once existed in you and yuuji’s friendship. so you end up on a call with him, yakking his ear off about how desperately you need a dick appointment. you just keep going on and on and on about way too many details of the sex you so dearly miss.

“and he's so good with his mouth!” you continue, not even giving yuuji the opportunity to respond, “like, there's no way i can do that to myself! uuuuuggggh—when’s he coming home?” you're pacing your bedroom, getting almost antsy, as you blab.

yuuji’s on the other line, just giggling occasionally, letting you ramble all you want. but, suddenly, something pops into his head.

“oh, god, he does this one thing with his tongu—”

“why don't i help you out?” the words are rolling out of his mouth.

why you agreed is unbeknownst to you, but yuuji is down on his knees on the floor of your apartment in less than fifteen minutes nonetheless.

of course, you'd never cheat on your boyfriend! that's not what you're doing! this is just a favor, right? a friendly little thing. yuuji doesn't want his best friend to be all sad and frustrated. he just can't bear to see you like that any longer.

your pussy is prettier than he imagined (yes, he’s imagined her before—one too many times you've bent over in a too short skirt and almost accidentally flashed him or a few too many pairs of pants that hug her too tight and you somehow how don't notice). he stares for a moment up at your leaky cunt in what must be awe once your pants are pulled off and you're lazily spreading your legs apart for him on the edge of your bed.

he’s not gonna tell you he thinks you're pretty. well, not now. obviously, you're ethereal—he’s told you before—but, when he's inching his parted lips toward your swollen clit, he’s gonna keep his mouth metaphorically shut.

his eyes flutter shut in unison with yours as his tongue flattens on the underside of your little bundle of nerves. your hands slap into his hair, it's shorter than your boyfriend’s, but it’ll do. his hands hold your legs far enough open with his big hands while he absolutely loses himself in your pussy.

this wasn't his first rodeo, but your taste, your cunt, your everything is far from anything he’d ever had before. perfect is the only word he knows to describe it, but even that doesn't come close.

he's moaning maybe more than you are as he laps at the sap oozing out of you. his dick feels like it's being suffocated in the strict confines of his sweats and boxers; he's not sure he's even been this hard before.

though, he knows this isn't for him. he can go rub one out when he's left you satisfied, but he has to get you satisfied first. this is just a favor for you.

but, when you're squirting down his throat shamefully quick, he can’t help but help the sadness that he’d have to go so soon. you're convulsing and mewling out incoherent words that sound suspiciously close to yuuji’s name. your mind feels a mess. you hadn't cum since the last time your boyfriend was home (which felt so long ago now, even longer than it had been), but something was telling you it wasn't enough.

he pulls away to do something—wipe your juices that were trickling down his chin, say something to you, or get a rag to clean you up—but his actions are interrupted with an almost lightning fast reflex shove on the back of his head, forcing his mouth against your cunt again. for the first time since he started, he glances up at your face, all sweaty and plastered with the most beautifully erotic look.

“yuuji,” you breathe out, completely forgetting what you’d half-heartedly mentioned about not wanting to use his name so it didn't feel so intimate, “wan’ your tongue in me.” your words are lewd, words yuuji never expected to hear from your mouth, especially directed at him. his cock twitches a little in its cotton prison, pre-cum oozing from his pretty pink tip and leaving a dark spot in his boxers.

he can't say no to you.

he dips his head lower, the tip of his nose pressed just below your clit as he tentatively presses his hot tongue into your hole. you're squeezing around him instantly with a grip that his him worried you might suck his tongue out of his mouth. you can't help but to throw your head back and moan all too loud while gripping his hair harder than you’ve ever gripped anything in your life.

he's practically just french kissing your cunt, no real direction or plan considering he’s just as lost in your pussy as you are in his mouth, but it brings a sense of nirvana to you anyway. it feels like your soul has left your body, replacing any sense of self with some sort of sex fiend who wants yuuji.

maybe it's the lack of recent adequate stimulation, maybe it's the fact that's is yuuji, maybe it's something else entirely, but, either way, you are a mess. hiccuping through shrill moans, legs shaking and thrashing, eyes bolted shut, knuckles turning white from your grasp on yuuji’s pink locks, pussy throbbing. you’re not sure you’ve been such a desperate, horny creature of a woman ever in your life. but, is the explanation really necessary? not when you start grinding down on yuuji’s face, no.

you're swiping your slick soaked folds up and down over his nose, moaning and whimpering when your clit rolls over the slope just right. it's even more heavenly when yuuji shoves his tongue further inside you, sending vibrations up into you with a groan at how you humped his face.

when you're suddenly cumming on his face again, with a sharp “yuuji!”, you’re sure your brain is all gone. any sense of rationality, of anything at all was gone. you should be worried about how wrong this is, how the old lady whose apartment is next to yours that’s way too invested in you and your boyfriend's relationship will definitely ask why you were screaming another man's name. but, you're not. you're not worried about anything but your best friend and his magical mouth.

his brain's out the window too. which is why he doesn't think twice before crawling on top of you and latching his lips onto yours. he's tugging his pants and boxers down with such fervor while his other hand gropes your tits and pushes you down on your bed, the same bed you’d gossiped and giggled in with the man on top of you. you can taste yourself on your lips, but it doesn't make you cringe like you thought it would—though you're a little too focused on the absolutely delightful kiss you’re sharing.

“i know you said that i’d just be eating you out,” he mumbles against your lips between heavy kisses once his cock is finally free, “but, please.”

you don't even remember what you said at this point as you nod dumbly.

he practically moans at the permission alone. he holds the base of his dick and swipes the tip up and down your sopping folds, only pulling away from your kiss swollen lips to stare at the lewd sight. you don't look, letting your head roll back and tongue loll out of your mouth.

the second his fat tip is pushing past your weakened ring of resistance, he's moaning like a bitch in heat. he can't decide whether to let his eyes roll so far back he can see his brain or ogle the filthy scene between you two. he listens to the delectable, unfiltered noises that bubble out of your throat without so much as breath between, and it only fuels the fire of need in his stomach.

he's thought of you before. he couldn't help it, who could? on nights of pumping his fist when his imagination ran too wild or he ran out of porn to watch, of course the most important girl in his life would pop up. bent over with your face stuffed in the pillows, pretty cunt glistening with your wetness on full display for his eyes. or your plump lips (that your boyfriend always got to kiss, how unfair) wrapped around his cock, hollowing your cheeks and holding only the most orgasm inducing eye contact as you take him down your throat expertly. or maybe even his cock using your ass while his fingers plunge in out of your pussy, amorous and perverted sloshing sounds filling his ears—

oh, yeah. reality.

he’s only about halfway in, and the sheer girth of his cock as you arching you back and writhing in place. it would hurt if he didn't make you cum oh-so hard twice in a row. he pulls his hand away from his base to roll his shaky thumb over your abused clitty, earning a sharp hiss from you. though, it goes unnoticed.

everything is unnoticed by yuuji right now. he could barely tell you his own name with the way your hole is sucking the dear life out of his cock. condoms? what are those? your boyfriend? who’s that? any woman other than you? doesn't exist.

tears are forming in your hazy eyes once he bottoms out, the feeling of being so full registering you nothing but a personified mess of pleasure. yuuji was clearly bigger than your boyfriend, not by much length wise, but he was much thicker, stretching out your gummy walls.

he doesn't give you much time to recover (not like you want it anyway) before he's slamming in and out of you. your basically limp body bounces up with each mean thrust of his hips, drilling his cock so perfectly up into you. his thumb is still lazily circling your clit.

it's not long before he's practically begging to cum. with all sense long disappeared, you agree, feeling on edge again yourself.

he mumbles a thanks as his pace grows impossibly harder and sloppier, reaching an previously undiscovered spot deep inside you that has you breathlessly gasping out little “ah! ah! ah! ah!”s with each ram against it. your clenching around him, trying to milk him for all his worth as your release washes over you a third time.

as you coat his cock and hand and add the puddle of your juices under your ass, he stops his aimless thrusts to force his cock so deep inside you that you see nothing but stars—it's like he's trying to get you pregnant. hot, sticky cum fills you up to the brim, overflowing your cunt.

and it's as he finishes oh-so deep inside your pussy, tip kissing your cervix, that he mutters three words. words he’d said to you before, words you’d said back to him, though in much different contexts. after long, heartelt talks, after a really great stress relieving hangout, when you're hanging up the phone, when you just want to appreciate your best friend. but, this isn't one of those times. he's filling you with cum, saying,

“i love you.”

1K notes · View notes

ccsainzleclerc5516 · 2 months ago

Text

That’s Not What Friends Do (part 1)

Pairing: Lando Norris x reader

Warnings: smut, cheating

Request: Lando and the Reader have been best friends since they were babies. Lando has been in love with the Reader since he was a teenager, which is why he has never had a serious relationship. He has flings with girls, but nothing serious. On the other hand, the Reader has been in love with Lando for the past one to two years but thinks he doesn't like her that way, which is why she doesn't propose. Lando is very protective of the Reader, and the Reader is equally protective of Lando.... She knows he sleeps around and is protective of him in a way that she advises him to be smart about who he sleeps with and to stay out of the headlines for anything other than racing. The story starts after the Brazil race, where Lando had a tough time and went without sleep for 24-48 hours. When he returns from São Paulo, he finds the Reader already there, ready to comfort him after a bad race. - I changed it up a bit adding Charles into the story, but I hope you still like it!

"Oh, yes, yes, yes-ah.." The girl moans breathlessly into the pillow as Lando animalistically continues pounding her from behind.

"Just like that, Lando, give it to me" She continues talking even though Lando hates hearing it.

He hates the way his name sounds coming from her lips. He also hates that he's giving her what she wants. And most of all, he hates the fact that once again he's fucking someone else, imagining it washer.

Once he closes his eyes and thinks of your innocent face, it sends him over the edge, he twitches pulling out his cock and cumming inside the condom. "Fuck.." He moans throwing his head back as his thighs shake.

"You didn't have to pull out, you know? You have a condom on anyway" The girl smirks turning to look at him and trying to pull him down to her.

Lando doesn't say anything, he raises his eyebrow at her, barely keeping himself from rolling his eyes at her stupid comment.

He's been with so many girls he can't even count them, but even when he's drunk out of his mind, protection is a must have. He's not fucking around when it comes to that, not when he doesn't even know half of those girls' names. Nor is he interested in their names. All he cares about is emptying himself, giving himself a short-term pleasure and maybe just maybe running into someone who is at least slightly similar to her.

"You're not gonna stay?" The girl asks when he gets up from the bed and starts pulling his pants up.

"No, sorry, I gotta go" With curt, almost no explanations, he always leaves minutes after he finishes. Not that he's proud of it, but to be honest, he doesn't care either.

On the other hand, y/n doesn't spend her free nights the way Lando does. She doesn't fuck around with guys to keep her mind off Lando because she knows that's impossible in a way.

Although she spends some of her evenings wishing she had never seen that article a year and a half ago. It was a perfectly normal Monday night, the day after the race, when after a long flight she finally lay down on her couch, snuggled under the blanket and started scrolling through her phone. At one point, her best friend Ruby sent her an article titled "Friends"? and a picture of y/n and Lando that y/n hasn't stopped thinking about ever since.

The picture captured the moment when, after the race, Lando had both arms tightly wrapped around y/n and was kissing her temple with his eyes closed.

At first it seemed like an ordinary picture, I mean it wasn't the first time they shared a close moment like that before. After all they're friends? Friends do that, right? But the longer y/n stared at it, the more it awakened something in her that hadn't been there before.

When she found herself thinking about Lando and herself at night to fall asleep, she realized she was in trouble because she knew she was in love with her best friend. But since she also knew that the night she was staring at their picture, he was fucking some girl because he himself had told her he was meeting her that night, y/n knew she had to suppress her feelings.

That's where y/n had a little help named Charles.

"Where were you?"

Y/n startles almost screaming when she walks into her apartment and turns on the light revealing Lando on her couch.

"Oh my God, Lando!!" She said, barely able to catch her breath as she held her hand over her heart thinking it would jump out at any second. "You scared the shit out of me! How did you get in here?"

"You gave me the key?"

"I did, but to use it in case of emergency only!"

"You not answering my calls is an emergency" He says and you roll your eyes at him as you take off your shoes. "So?"

"So?" You mimic him.

"Where were you?"

"I was" You sigh. "On a date."

"You were on a date?" He asked a little panicked, following you like a puppy into the kitchen where you had gone.

"Mhm" You mumble, avoiding his gaze. "Ready to conquer Brazil?" You ask trying to change the subject.

"Who were you on a date with?" He asks not dropping it.

"Can we please not talk about it?" You sigh. You really had no intention of telling him anytime soon that you were seeing Charles. You knew Lando was never much of a fan of Charles. Although the reason for that was never clear to you, Lando had actually seen the way Charles secretly looked at you on a couple of occasions, and he confirmed his suspicions when Carlos told him that Charles had said he wanted to get to know you better.

"Why not? Since when am I not allowed to know who you're seeing?"

"Oh please, as if you tell me about every girl you see"

"Well..that's n-not the same"

"Oh really? And by the way, the other day Instagram was full of you and some blonde at a club again. I could see how drunk you were through the picture, you know?" You've scolded him for the umpteenth time already. "You really should be more careful who you associate yourself with, it's getting out of hand"

Lando remained silent because he knew you were right and he hated that he knew you were always right.

"Lando, you know I'm only saying that because I don't want them to talk badly about you and play with your head..."

No one really knew Lando the way you did. After all, you've known each other since childhood, inseparable since you were little. Your relationship has always been one of a kind, both of you very protective of each other. For Lando, it was like he wasn't afraid to hurt anyone but you. You were something that cannot be touched.

"I know, but I don't want to talk about that either." He says. "Are you coming with me to Brazil?"

"No, I'm sorry, Lan. I have a project to finish. I have so much to do and so little time."

"So you have time to date but you don't have time to be there when I need you?"

"H-how can you even say that?" You were offended because that was far from the truth. If anyone was always there for Lando, it was you. You just didn't know he was saying this only out of jealousy and because he had a hard time accepting that you had someone in your life besides him.

"Let me guess, he'll be your moral support while you work on your project?"

Oh, if he only knew that the "moral support" he was talking about would be much closer to him than to you that weekend, he would surely lose his mind.

part 2

892 notes · View notes

watchmegetobsessed · 4 months ago

Text

UNMATCHED

A/N: it's been like 6 months since i last posted something and honestly, i haven't even written anything, things are very shitty these days but i felt the motivation to write this quickly after watching 'tell me lies' and 'rivals' these past weeks so here we go! if student-prof type of fics are not your thing then don't read it

WORD COUNT: 2.6k

WARNING: age gap, student-professor relationship

SUMMARY: Harry is very strict about staying away from students as a young and handsome professor, but there is one person he can't get out of his head and a Christmas party brings an unexpected turn.

MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!

Harry hates these type of parties, mostly because he can’t imagine inviting dozens of students into his home, his private space, have the roam around and spend an entire evening with them, talking and pretending like they aren’t just trying to get a better grade at the end of the semester with their too friendly behavior. Or, in his case, some girls try to push the boundaries and flirt with him, hoping to hook up with him.

He is not stupid. He has heard students whisper about him several times, he notices the heart eyes when he is talking in class and he has gotten several phone numbers on papers since he started his PHD studies and started teaching last year. His friends teased him about being the heartthrob of the faculty, but he didn’t think it would actually happen and to this extent. To avoid any possible scandals, not that he planned to make any, he has put on quite a rigid mask towards the students to scare them off from even trying, though that hasn’t stopped some of them from wanting to shoot their shot.

He wouldn’t have come to this party, he would rather be home and continue his research that’s still not even close to being done, but Professor Bradford, or Stella as she requests Harry to call her, is the only person he gets along with in the faculty. She is 18 years older than Harry, but still younger than the rest of the old men who have been teaching here since probably before the declaration of independence was signed. Those men are the reason younger people don’t like classic literature anymore, with their outdated ways of teaching and unwillingness to bring something modern into their lectures they are scaring the new generations away. But not Stella. She is one of the reasons Harry went into his PHD and now he gets to work with her. He couldn’t just reject her invitation for her annual Christmas Party she holds for her students and some colleagues.

Now he is standing by the wall, drinking mulled wine and just gritting his teeth, trying to calculate how early is too early to leave. A couple of girls have already tried to chat him up, they like to circle him, leave him almost no room to escape and then make him talk about school stuff, but then they slyly bring up personal things, hoping to break his usual character, but he sees through them always.

Harry’s best friend, Niall always teases him that he should just give in and have fun with one of them. His morals are a lot looser than Harry’s, that’s for sure.

Just as he is about to look for the bathroom, not to use it but to hide for a bit, another group of girls spots him and he can already feel his skin crawling as they approach him from down the hallway. He is quick to assess the situation, but he realizes he has no chance of fleeing before they reach him.

“Profesor! So good to see you here!”

And here we go.

It goes the same, they are extremely nice and inquiring about his plans for the next semester and then suddenly they are talking about summer and Harry knows they are moments away from asking what he’ll be doing once the school year is over. One of the girls is talking about going to Italy on a yacht and the others chime in with their own ridiculously over the top plans while Harry is avoiding to even look at them, his eyes roam around the other guests.

That’s when he sees her.

Just down the hall he can peek into the kitchen and there she is, with a boy Harry assumes to be her boyfriend. He’s seen them around campus the past few weeks, he even waited for her after Harry’s class and saw them walk away together as he fought the way his stomach churned every time.

Since the moment she walked into his class at the beginning of the semester Harry has been feeling like he is losing his mind. Whether it be the way she laughs with her friends before class or focuses with undivided attention as Harry explains something by the board, or says hello every time she passes him in the cafeteria, Harry can’t stop thinking about her for days after even though he knows such feelings should be banned from his mind when it comes to a student. Every time he catches himself thinking about her he wants to throw himself out the window, but he still can’t fight it. There’s something in her that draws him in and swallows him whole and it’s not just the looks. Unlike a lot of students who take his classes for easy credits or to drool after him, she is there to learn as much as she can and she’s had the most brilliant thoughts on certain subjects Harry has ever encountered, making him almost jealous he wasn’t the one to think about them.

She is… unmatched. And forbidden, but impossible to ignore. She’s been his vice for months.

From where he stands it appears she is having a fight with said boyfriend, her always cheerful expression is now rather upset and confused while the boy seems to be over the conversation, almost irritated by her, dismissed. Harry tries to appear not too obvious about watching them, but he is also way too fixated on her to ignore what’s happening just down the hallway.

He glances away just for a few seconds, but the next time he looks back he sees the boy stomping away, irritated, while she is left there, pulling on her coat before disappearing through the backdoor, swallowed by the darkness of the unlit back terrace.

And before Harry could stop himself, he is already moving.

“Excuse me girl,” he mumbles disorientedly as he slips out of the small circle.

He places his glass to a nearby table and then grabs his own coat from the wardrobe in the hallway before making his way outside. After her.

The moment he steps out into the cold a short sense of realization washes over him that he definitely shouldn’t be here, that he is crossing a line, but then another voice in his head tunes it out, convincing him that he is just making sure she is okay and there’s nothing wrong with that.

Stopping by the door his gaze rakes through the terrace, but he doesn’t see her, until she spots her slouched form sitting on the bottom of the stairs leading out to the lawn. He hears her sniffling, but she hasn’t acknowledged his presence yet, if she noticed it at all. There’s a couple of moments of hesitation on his end, he can hear the rational side of him screaming somewhere in the back of his mind, telling him to turn around and just walk back inside, yet he still finds himself moving towards him and then that voice is silenced.

“Everything alright?” Harry asks from the top of the stairs, but he startles her so much that she jumps to her feet and backs away a few feet. That’s when he sees her tearful eyes and red nose.

“S-Sorry, I don’t–”

“Hey, it’s all good. You didn’t do anything wrong. Just checking in.”

She squints her eyes at him and that’s when he realizes she must not even see his face since the light is coming right behind him. So he walks down the stairs and then finally his face is lit and realization settles in her eyes.

“Oh, Professor Styles. Hi.”

“Hello Y/N. Are you okay?” he asks again, to which she just chuckles bitterly.

He can’t miss that even with tears running down her cheeks and her eyelashes stuck together, she looks so fucking beautiful it baffles him. He has to fight the urge to reach out and touch her tear-soaked cheeks.

“Um, yeah, everything is… perfect,” she scoffs, reaching into her pockets, probably looking for tissues, but finding none so Harry grabs one from his inner pocket, handing it over to her, her fingers brushing against his for the shortest second as she takes it and then it’s over, but his skin keeps tingling.

“Thanks,” she mumbles before drying her face as much as she can. “I’m good. Just…” She looks at him and changes her mind. “Ah, wouldn’t want to bore you with my nonsense personal drama.”

“Drama is never boring, have you learned nothing in my class?” he jokes and it actually makes her laugh.

“This drama is not worthy of being taught in class though.”

“I bet some of the big names thought the same thing upon writing what we read in class these days.”

“So you’re saying I should write about how my boyfriend is fed up with me because I told him something he did hurt me?”

“That sounds like something I bet a lot of people would want to read about,” he smiles and when she mirrors it, he can feel his chest expanding. Somewhere way too deep in his mind an alarm goes off, but it quickly becomes one with the void and all he can think about is her. “Actually I can think of a few great pieces that are about similar topics.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, believe it or not, you’re not the first one to experience this.”

The way she looks at him is setting him on fire. The mixture of sadness, tiredness and gratitude towards his attempt to cheer her up is still making her glow in a way Harry has never seen before on any woman.

“Do you mind analyzing one for me right now?”

“I’d be happy to.”

The party is completely tuned out for the two of them. First they actually talk about a novel, but soon it turns into sharing their favorite books and authors, their guilty pleasure reads, recommendations for each other and even more personal bits Harry would never share with a student, but Y/N is the exception.

They have no idea how much time passes as they stand outside and Harry ignores how the cold starts to sting his fingertips even in his pockets, because he knows that if they go inside this bubble will pop and he is too selfish to let that happen just yet.

When there’s a short silence Harry notices that she is probably slipping back into what happened earlier and when she looks at him again he already knows she is about to share.

“I gave him a chance and explicitly told him not to fuck me over, because I can’t deal with that again. But all he has been doing is manipulating to believe that I’m always in the wrong.”

“It’s impossible for you to always be in the wrong.”

“I know. Well, part of me knows, but then I always go back to thinking that he is right, I must have messed up something.”

“That just proves that you have self-criticism, that you don’t just think everything you do is perfect.”

She sighs and looks away, her gaze distant as she battles herself inside her head, a feeling Harry knows very well, unfortunately. It doesn’t sit right with him that she is visibly struggling because of an immature guy’s untreated problems. She deserves so much more, but how can he tell that without crossing a line?

“Give it some time and you’ll see it clearer. Use your critical thinking on his actions as well, not just yours and don’t settle for less than your worth.”

“You think I did that?” she asks, eyes jumping back to meet his gaze. “You think I settled for less than my worth?”

There’s more behind her eyes than the words she said out loud and he is torn, because he can feel himself being pulled in more than ever, like she just opened the door the slightest and he has the chance to slip in. It’s the first time he senses something on her part and after all the yearning he is eager to take the chance.

“I think you deserve a lot more, Y/N. You’re brilliant, bright and give so much to others, you should get the same amount if not more back. If someone can’t see that, then they don’t deserve you.”

For a second he wishes he didn’t say a thing, he regrets crossing the line and he fears her reaction, but then…

Then he forgets everything. Because she is kissing him.

It happens fast, one moment she is staring up at him with doe eyes, the next her lips are crashing against his, her hands grabbing onto the lapels of his coat. He barely recovers from the shock when she is already pulling away.

“I-I’m so sorry, I d-didn’t mean to, I just—Oh my Go–”

Her stammering is quickly cut short when he kisses her, his hands holding her jaw to angle her face perfectly and while her kiss was closed, rushed and panicked, this one is different. He is quick to beg for her to open her lips so he can explore as much of her as humanly possible, he is letting all the passions loose that he’s been locking up these past months and when she returns it just as eagerly it just pushes him even further.

They inch back to the wall of the house and when he pins her against it a moan slips past her swollen lips, completely maddening him.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he breathes against her lips, kissing her jawline, savoring the sweet taste of her skin that’s supposed to be cold, but it’s actually burning. For him.

He keeps one hand on the side of her neck, the other one digs into her hip through her coat and she keeps pushing against him, while her hands wander under his coat, they are on his waist, back and when they move to his lower stomach, brushing against his belt, something snaps inside him.

But before he could completely lose his mind the backdoor opens and he quickly sobers up, pulling her farther away from the corner so they can’t be seen.

“...and that was actually crazy,” a girl speaks up, oblivious to how Harry has Y/N pinned against the wall just a few feet away. They are both breathing heavily, but she has her face buried in his shoulder while he covers his mouth with a hand, adrenaline racing through his veins.

“Ah shit, I’m out of cigarettes,” another girl says.

“Mm let’s get out of here then. I think Max said they are having a little party as well.”

“Okay.”

Then the door opens again and the voices disappear, but reality hits Harry hard in the head.

He slowly pulls back, enough to look at her face and when he sees her swollen lips and slightly smeared mascara he almost combusts.

Because he wants nothing more than to take her, right here and then everywhere else in the world, but he also realizes what he just did and this time his rational side wins.

“Fuck,” he gasps as he jumps back, cupping a hand over his mouth.

“I wanted it–”

“Y/N, stop!” he cuts her off. “Fuck, this was a mistake.”

“But I wanted it! You didn’t–”

“I said stop!” he barks and she shuts her mouth right away. “This shouldn’t have happened.”

And before she could protest again or worse, kiss him again, he is already storming back inside, across the house towards the front door.

“Harry! I haven’t seen you all night!” Stella catches him, but he just wants to get as far away from this house and from Y/N as possible.

“I’m sorry, I need to go. I’ll talk to you later,” is all he manages to say before he is already out the door.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

#harry #styles #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot #harry styles fluff #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles blurb

1K notes · View notes

hischierjustscored · 27 days ago

Text

accidentally yours・゜・quinn hughes

summary: you barely remembered putting quinn as your emergency contact until he showed up like the universe's idea of a bad joke

a/n: this is my contribution for the winter fic exchange 2k25 by @wyattjohnston for @hanaaishi 🧡 i still owe you forever for being patient and bearing with me on this!! seriously i mean it!! thank you both for making me a part of another amazing exchange which was my first one ever but i'm so happy that i was!! it was such an experience for me diving into all this and hope i was able to do some justice on my part 🧡 i got too carried away smoothing the final edges, hence the delay again, i also changed the idea we talked about a little but i hope it's all good in the end

update: very emotional about all the likes and sharings here, i can't say thank you enough it really means the world to me 🧡🧡🧡 love you all!!!!

warnings: mentions of injuries (light concussion, ankle sprain), hospital, parents pressure, overthinking, scratching on the surface???, and i trusted myself to do a reader insert so bear with me once more

word count: 5.1k

You remember when you were 8 and took your brother’s bike to try out his self-made wood ramps in the garden, only to fall 6ft from the side and drop straight onto your left hip. That day you found out that grass wasn’t nearly as cushy as it looked but it was your mother’s “told you so” you never forget, lingering in your ears from where you sat in the backseat on the way to the hospital.

You also remember your best friend Lia leaving you in charge of booking an Airbnb for your first trip to Austria together, and you were proud of that cozy little place you found nestled in a mountain valley. But the "cozy" and "European" charms you both imagined left you searching desperately for a hotel in the middle of the holiday season instead, and Lia didn't have to say the words. You could hear the "I told you so" for really trusting someone with the username wanderlustgirl98.

And you remember moving to Vancouver a year ago after your studies, taking up your former professor's advice to follow one of its renowned urban development programs and put your "big-picture" skills to work. He didn’t have to try hard to convince you. You’d already been thinking about it for a long time until it felt like your chance to finally prove yourself. Perhaps even more to your parents. A naive part in you hoped you'd fit into their expectations for once. But if you really did, you'd reach out more than just on birthdays and festivities, maybe even give in to that other more vulnerable part in you and tell them how over your head you've been lately or that, deep down, they were probably right about all of this being a huge leap you still weren't ready for.

And you can only imagine…

Told you so.

It long replaced the loud ringing and the whole new level of woozines you felt an hour ago on the bus, as you watched the nurse adjust the brace on your right ankle, all black and chunky.

You sighed heavily for the 5th time in under 2 minutes, because what did you do to deserve all this?

Oh right, maybe being a chronic people pleaser, staying late at work to set other people's shit right. Fixing last-minute deadlines, cleaning up mistakes that weren’t yours, saying yes when you wanted to say no.

You couldn't help it.

"It shouldn't take more than 3-6 weeks to heal completly, you're lucky it's just a moderate strain. Nothing that can't be fixed."

She looked up at you over the rim of her glasses, still perched hideously low, before she slowly swiveled back to her desk.

"Can I still work in that thing?", you tried testing out the waters, bending your feet just a little, then more until you sucked in a sharp breath when the pain hit.

"Honey, what do you think this is?", she drawled followed by a low chuckle as if she couldn't quiet believe this being your first question.

“It’s meant for the healing, you have to keep it still completely and not put any weight on it. And that includes not working."

The last straw keeping you grounded right now, is that this could have been much worse.

From the moment the bus driver hit the brakes like in that one Harry Potter scene, your new plateau sneakers giving out on you and your head bracing the inevitable fall on some window. Your initial hope bubble of no one noticing quickly busted as people came to your side, but you brushed them off mumbling that you were fine through the worst cringe of unwanted attention. Until you tried to balance yourself, only to realize you couldn't, and straightening up nearly made you sick.

You shifted, bracing your palms against the mattress to find a more comfortable position, minus flaring your ankle up again. You’d been in this bed for too long, it was driving you crazy.

"But how am I supposed to do that? Other than floating maybe..."

The mocking arch of her brows made the wrinkles on her forehood stand out more, but you couldn't care less, it was the pure frustration blurting out of you at this point you weren't even kidding about the last part. The last thing you needed on your mind was your boss' face to your sick call tomorrow morning. Not with the mayor visiting your office in 2 days, waiting to hear your thoughts on improving Vancouver's climate neutrality through sustainable architecture. What you’ve worked tirelessly on, perfecting every detail from start to finish.

And you thought if all of this is some sort of reverse karma. Only for being hardworking.

Is that a thing?

You were so lost in thought that you didn't notice the shuffling in the room until she came back with something that, if any shred of humor was left inside you, you would've laughed at. But instead, you just slumped back against the headrest, the wave of déjà vu taking you back to when you were 8 looking between the crutches in her hand.

Hardworking karma, reverse karma, just trying as hard as you can karma...

"I think you will be good with these", she offered, leaning them against your bed within reach, "maybe if you try hard enough you will actually float."

Her chumy tone you still couldn't quite feel yet, had your eyes roll back in an instant before closing them, grumbling to yourself, "Just great, really, really, great", but it was a mistake once you did as you fought off the urge to drift off.

A piece of mind for the first time in hours.

Maybe for the first time in forever even.

The last months have been...immense to say the least, throwing yourself into anything that kept you running on autopilot, saying yes when you wanted to say no, but you needed it.

After the biggest "told you so" that was bound to happen eventually. 2 months from now or more, or perhaps between his work, your work, balancing on a life that went past deadlines and demands, between 2 people who have their own reasons to prove themselves to everything around them, you slipped out of each other’s reach.

But it’s not like there was ever an official you two.

It was just the version of the story you always liked best.

“Here you go, I was able to find one in the random stash we keep in our break room, but it should work though," a voice light and sweet snapped your attention back faster or not fast enough, you didn't know, blinking against the lights now.

For a second, you felt like you were back on the bus with the dizziness and nausea creeping in again.

But no. Just him. It was just the thought of Quinn.

Your weighted gaze shifted to the bubbly blonde next to you, then down to your forearm where she lightly nudged a charger against it, and you suddenly remembered how determined she was to get it for you when you realized your phone powered down.

You couldn’t even text Lia back in time, knowing you were already too late for the rare occassions of missing your daily Facetime calls, with her still being back home in Seattle. Not in a trillion years you expected to feel this way about her, but right now you're glad she is.

Because if she she'd see you like this, she'd already know the answers without you giving it to her, that you take on more than your chronic people pleasing heart could handle sometimes.

And he'd always know too. When to snap you out of it, when to just exist beside you with no words. He'd never have to ask.

"Oh yeah, thank you", you forced out in the most put-together tone you could pull off right now, hoping our smile was convincing enough to distract her from the way your clammy palms were rubbing against the mattress, or the rapid thumping of your heart that you’d see too on your chest if you dared to look down again.

"Just enough to call a Uber and you can take it back."

She gave you a simple half-shrug, taking your phone from your outstretched hand, "It's stuff patients leave behind soo..", and plugged it in for you. But before you could brush her answer off again, the low calling of your last name made you snap to a tall man in the doorway, and his two long strides toward you could either mean more bad or good news.

You held your breath as you listened to him in silence going over your completly normal labs and scans which only told you everyone was making a bigger deal out of this anyway. You were fine crossing your arms and biting the inside of your cheeks reluctantly when he added they'd be filling out a sick report too.

"-though we would like to monitor you here for a night just in case you develop more symptoms that can’t be ruled out from the hit, and given that you already experienced dizziness and nausea-"

No person or force on this earth could make you stay here for one minute longer.

You released your cheeks with a click of your tongue, cutting him off quickly, "Uhhh that's not necessary, I mean I feel way better now and you just said it too, didn't you?", which finally made him look up from whatever, clearly taken aback, his suprise mirrowing your own for a different reason.

Plus, you knew your rights. They couldn't keep you hostage here, you were ready to remind him of their own policy.

"We just want to make sure that-"

But you barely registered his next words, not that they would change your mind anyway, lost beneath the familiar sound of your phone finally wrapping up in your hands, and you were as happy as a little kid seconds away from unwrapping the biggest gift under the Christmas as tree, just, it didn't ask you to press your thumb down to unlock it as it normally would but...

"Damn it."

The one time your phone decides to ask for your SIM card code, and you’re completely blank.

Hardworking karma, reverse karma, just trying as hard as you can karma...

Yes, you really believed now, you did everything wrong tonight and this was the real karma of it all.

Your thumbs brushed the screen, trying to remember 4 digits like your life depended on it with the only 3 attempts you had.

The day you bought it you scribbled it down, along with the backup code (of course), and put it on your fridge because your memory rivaled that of a goldfish sometimes.

Was it 5678 or 5679?, and you heart dropped as deep as the Marianna Trench when it said only 1 attempt left.

"...and with how things are right now, we wouldn't encourage you to leave on your own. Do you have someone you can call right now to pick you up? Someone safe?"

Was he still talking to you?

"Huh? What?", the phone nearly slid from your grip, your palms starting to clam up again, and he lowered his clipboard studying you with an expression you weren't sure you had the energy to fully read, but it felt too damn close to pity.

"Or anyone we could call...?"

Quinn knew now that he could only trust Jack when it comes to discussing goodreads.com reader's favorites, ideas for lake house interior, and shooting pucks.

Not with anything close to dating. Or helping him out with that.

He was doing just fine. Thank you very much, but he knew Jack. Too much for his own good sometimes.

"Why do you act like you don't want it when you actually do. You need this. Get out of your head."

Sitting in this Italian restaurant that was a little too crowded for it being a secret "gem" as Jack said suggesting it to him, and he didn't even live here, listening to his date "soul-searching" trip to Bali was far from want and need.

He checked her Instagram highlights before, clicking on her profile Jack DM'd him. A friend of a friend. If overpriced veggie bowls and infinity pool thirst traps were anything soul-searching she's deluding both of them, and so was his thinking that maybe he should give this a shot. "Getting out out his head", with the season already hitting him with flashbacks he wanted to forget for the sake of his sanity, and keeping away from anything that kept him running on autopilot.

"It just put everything into perspective", she chattered, her voice pulling him back just enough to realize he had no idea what she was talking about.

And he knew the moment he looked up from stirring the ice in his water with his straw for the past 5 minutes, there wouldn't be damn thing he'd remember about her either. She was beautiful, that much was obvious. The kind she knew and had probably been told her whole life, she didn't have to try too hard.

He preffered not trying at all. It was his favorite.

Probably ever since you took his drink at the coffee shop one day, the place too crowded for names to be called, just cups sliding across the counter and you didn't even look down at his name scribbled on the side in Sharpie when you slipped past him on the way out, not bothered to notice him either. The moment he should've said something, tap your shoulder, say anything when he just kept watching you move outside, tilting your head at street signs like they weren’t second nature yet, checking your phone every few seconds like you had somewhere important to be. Grabbing the wrong coffee without a second glance wasn’t his only hunch that you weren’t from here. Then, the sip. Too strong. Wholebean. Definitely not yours.

You turned back, ready to go back inside, but he already had yours in his hands on his way out to you when they started calling out names again, and no one responded to, except for him.

A moment, a pause, your cold fingers brushing against his warm ones, or when you laughed at your mistake all crinkly around your eyes, perharps for the first time in a while that day, that should have been it, but wasn't, because between all of it you just became a part of his routine.

“…And then, on the third day, we did this sunrise meditation hike just me and a few people from the retreat, barefoot, totally disconnected, away from everything."

She kept going, oblivious to the way his focus had disconnected, his mind already elsewhere, lost in the memory of the last time he wanted to get away from everything, and the cushion underneath him slid akwardly when he shifted in his seat.

It wasn't about overpriced veggie bowls or infinity pools. But his favorite place in Michigan. Always.

And he wanted to take you there.

It had been a vague idea, one that had come up in the quiet moments in betweeen road trips and late-night talks at his place that were too deep and glances that lingered too long to mean anything less than what he had already convinced himself was true about you. The same feeling hit him when you gave him that slight curve of your lips, already figuring him out which no one did better than you, telling you about the days being slow and the nights nothing but still stars at the lake house.

"Hmm, that's not true stars are moving constantly, we just don't see it."

He laughed, quiet but warm, "Can you at least pretend to fall for it?, just for it to get stuck in his throat when you answered.

"It never is with you."

"What?"

"Pretending."

It never was with you either.

But it never became anything more than vague. Because there was always something else. Texts left on read for too long, you and your own world to keep up with, just as much as he did with travel schedules that blurred weeks into months, not leaving room for things he didn't know how to hold onto. Or someone who didn't know either.

A low buzz from behind, easy to miss if it hadn’t lingered just long enough to jolt him back, recognizing it immediately, and even though this was only ever one-sided, a genuine "Really sorry, I will turn it off" left his lips as he gawkly reached for his jacket over the backrest.

He hadn’t meant to look, a habit more than anything. But then his thumb hesitated mid-air, double-taking the number.

Unknown. Vancouver area code. Probably nothing. Probably something.

But always a red flag, especially for someone in his industry.

"Thought you were turning it off?", she mused, tipping her wine glasss to her lips, watching him over the rim and he forced a quick exhale, "Yeah, I-", but he didn't have a real answer with the buzzing still alive in his hand.

And he should've turned it off, ignore it, and sit through the night rest of the night pretending like he hadn't already made up his mind about this whole thing.

You need this.

He wasn't even sure what "this" was even supposed to be. Whatever, it never felt right since the start.

His phone buzzed again with the same caller, but now he thought about it being a perfect timing.

"I gotta take this...", he mumbled, barely shooting her a glance, and he swiped right before his mind could really caught up with it.

"Hello?"

A breath, a pause, nothing good he should know already, but he used it to press his index finger to his ear to drown out the noise, turning away in his seat.

"Uhm, yeah, hello it's Vancouver General Hospital am I speaking to Quinn H?"

Well this was new.

"Depends, who is this?", he still vacillated about it all and ignored the "H" making it sound like witness protection program name. Not that he planned on correcting them. Or rather, a nurse as she introduced herself, surprisingly professional, enough to raise his interest and, slowly, his concerns too.

"Sir, we have your sister here, she was brought in with a mild concussion and a sprained ankle some hours ago. But don't worry, she is totally fine, she just needs someone to pick her up which is why we're calling."

His brows snapped together, head jerking back to the slightest bit like his brain needed an extra second to process.

"My what? Excuse me?"

Last time he checked it was just Jack and Luke. Right?

Their parents would never screw them over like that, no way the would forget an entire human being for twenty-something years. Not even back when they first sat him down to tell him he’d be a big brother, and his two-year-old self, without hesitation, decided he wanted a sister. But by the time Luke came, he was bound to live with brothers and he wouldn't change that for the world now.

So when the nurse repeated the words that his sister listed him as her emergency contact Quinn could only stare blankly ahead, "Yeah, I still think you've got the wrong number..."

She is wasting her time on a call when this girl was really waiting to be picked up, and he was just about to put it in terms she’d finally grasp, until-

You.

The noise around him, muffled laughter and the hum of conversation, the restless tapping of manicured nails against the table cloth across him, faded into nothing. And with his thoughts already going from 0 to 100, this is his breaking point.

Your name.

He cleared his throat, but his voice came out strained, throat too dry, "Come again?"

Of all the names, hitting his ears after all these months but thought more of than he'd ever admit. The name he'd seen on his screen too many times, resisting the urge to check, to ask, to do something.

Everything dropped, turned over, a slow ache pressing against his ribs, too overwhelming and far too familiar.

But his body moved before his mind could catch up, momentum taking over. Someone said his name. Maybe, he couldn't care less. Something about a drink next, about sitting back down, but he ignored it again.

Because you were still ringing in his head, louder than it had in months.

And he wasn’t about to ignore it now.

"He said he's already on his way, shouldn't take longer than 10 minutes."

It made your brows furrow in confusion, "He's in the area?", but you said it more to yourself than to her, not that she heard it either in the crowded waiting room you were sitting in now, your ankle on a cushioned chair they'd given you.

Turns out you had listed an emergency contact the last time you were here, one you didn’t even remember leaving behind.

Apparently, hospital policy included holding onto records long enough to make you wait nearly an hour, because the name they had on file was your brother. And, of course, he was on a business trip in Abbotsford, 1 hour away. The only reasonable choice to put down when they’d asked back then. Then again, you barely remembered.

Except for the fact that it was your first public unveiling of a project you led. You had invited your parents, that small, hopeful part of you giving in, calling them, telling them you’d be happy if they came. You were almost surprised by their promising tone, as if, finally, they’d understand this wasn’t just about concepts and sketches, but about your dream.

But they didn’t come, texting out of everything, with an excuse that felt too made up. And hours ago, when your stomach had already sunk from scanning the crowd for them every time a new group arrived, it sank further. This time with the mix of one bad shrimp and something stronger you’d used to numb the disappointment.

How could you forget when you really really wanted to.

"Is you brother like...famous or something? Because your records were pretty mysterious."

You looked up to the same bubbly blonde nurse, still standing in front of you with her lips pressed together, thinking hard with her eyes narrowing the slightest looking at you.

"I think we're close enough he'd care to tell me or I would've found out sooner or later, but no, sorry to dissapoint you or anything", you corrected, hoping that was enough while you were already done processing the absurdity of it all. You slumped against the rigid backrest, sighing as the exhaustion crept in again, but rest was the last thing anyone was willing to grant you right now.

“Still”, she rambled on, not getting the memo, "kinda sounded familiar..."

One eye popped open, then another when you saw her crossing her arms now. This conversation slowly glided out of your hands, you weren't even a part of it. You leaned forward, jerking your head to the side, silently urging her to make sense of whatever this was.

"Your record just said Quinn H. and nothing more. I had to call him Mr. H. the whole time, but I figured he prefers this kind of privacy and that's what you want for him too. He didn't tell me his last name though."

There’s no need for that.

Your fingers now hoved near the cushioned stool, reaching for your calf to lift it off with more force than you should've and the sting was instant. But it was nothing compared to the irritation climbing its way up your throat where your heart already pounded in it.

Because not your brother was about to walk through that door. The person who should've been here.

No.

It will be Quinn Hughes.

And suddenly you were mid-fall again, right there on the bus, every last bit of control slipping past your grip. Nothing you could do.

Because drunk you put him down as your emergency contact that time. The one you barely remember.

"Wait, no", a breath left you, unsteady, "Call him again and tell him it's a big fucking mistake", your hands twitched in flight mode as you darted between her and the sliding doors open-mouthed, cause you remembered her saying he was only 10 minutes away. 5 even, if you're unlucky.

The same Quinn you stopped talking too, who if you looked into his eyes again, the same on that always made you wonder, if they could get any darker, any greener, would he notice?

That you mever meant for things to be this way? That it wasn't him, not really but your own mind, the way this new life kept pulling at you, and how you wanted to reach out when things calmed down. When you had space. When you could be the version of yourself that he deserved.

Maybe he was waiting for you. Maybe he thought you didn't care. It was only fair, but it didn't loosen the knot in your chest, nor how you blinked away the sting in your eyes that you told yourself was from the stuffy air with too many people breathing in here.

Because you did. You always did.

"Hey sis."

And in that instant, it felt like all the oxygen had been sucked from the room, how else could you explain the way your lungs refused to function, as if they’d forgotten how, when you snapped your head to where he stood now inches away.

How long?

His navy blue shirt was barely visible under his coat, his hair grown out just enough for the ends to curl, for it to peek out from the beanie he held in his hand, looking too good even with his hair tousled still like he'd always did asking you if he looks okay, what you could see him doing in whatever thing you interruped him in before he got here.

It pressed in too heavy, you had to cut through it, and through the faint hid of a smirk tugging at his mouth corner.

"Why are you here?"

"What happ-"

You barely felt the ache in your ankle over the blood rushing in your ears when you shifted your weight standing now, his gaze dropping to the crutches you stood up without, your brace, the subtle wince you thought you hid. And it was fucking with your heart that he wasn't just looking at you, but like he was piecing something back together.

He parted his lips, but his eyes flicked past yours first, toward the nurse behind you, when his fingers flexed around his beanie, "You were brought in here", he paused, "Needed someone to pick you up."

That was the objective, something everyone would've done perhaps if they received such call, being helpful and humanity personified, or because of the simple fact that he was your emergency contact. And that's what they are for.

Yet, you needed the subjective.

You huffed, shaking your head, "This is not what I meant. You could have said no, it's not like it would’ve changed anything."

"I didn't."

"You should have."

The words sounded sharper on your tongue than you wanted them to be, and you didn't know what hurt more, the way his expression barely shifted like he'd expected to be shut down again, because you were getting so good at it, or how your insides churned 360 degrees of how much you already regretted them. You felt his next sigh in your bones.

"What do you want me to say?", and you swallowed hard over the slight clip in his tone, "You're the one who put my name down I had no idea of, and they told me you were on your way to bolt out of here with a concussion. What did you expect me to do?"

Bolted. Floated. Whatever to get out of here finally.

He hinted at more, waiting for you to give it to him when you answered with an abruptness yourself, "Makes two of us."

"But you could've guessed from the call alone that it was a mix-up."

"Who jokes about that?"

Probably the universe and whatever intention it had planned out for you tonight, but you still tried to resist, just like you resisted the urge to meet his gaze, your eyes fixating somewhere beyond his right arm.

"Let's just drop it to the part where you go back to whatever you had going on before coming here I guess and me saying sorry for it."

The bittersweet taste in your mouth.

Only when the dull ache flared up in your good ankle did you realize you’d been standing without your crutches all this time, and before you even thought to reach for your crutches, he was already moving. Anticipating. The moment your balance gave out on you, he was already there, steady hands at your elbow and bicep, grounding you before gravity could do worse, and your pulse skipped how easy it was to sink into it.

His breath hitched, and so did yours, the warmth of his touch pooling through your fabric like you swallowed an ember, and his eyes, god his eyes, the darkest green, you don't even have to look up to be convinced about it again, all on you, as he murmured, barely a whisper.

"Don't be sorry, because it didn't mean anything."

Sitting in his car with the seat warmer already on like he remembered how easily cold you can get, watching as he pulled up your adress from his "saved" typing it into the console, it fucked with your heart all over again.

You should have protested, insisting you were fine enough to make it out on your own, scoffing when the nurse told Quinn, not you, that you needed monitoring, just in case.

But exhaustion had already settled too deep in your bones, that you were almost thankful for the silence settling between you since he helped walking you out and insisted to drive you home at least.

Almost.

You would’ve been the biggest fool alive if you let this slip again, like you always did, like you always regretted.

"I am sorry though."

"And I told you not to be."

The darkness in his eyes gave way to the streetlights flickering through them as you turned to face him, "You don’t get to tell me what I should and shouldn’t be sorry for, Hughes", you jested and Quinn huffed out something close to a laugh, shaking his head lightly. The soft glow from outside looked too good on him when you stopped at a right light, you swallowed hard, "What kind of brother would I be too?"

You groaned, rolling your eyes. "Oh my god, stop. I didn’t even mean to put you down as my contact."

"Keep it, I don't mind."

"You say that like you wouldn’t have blocked my number by now if you had the chance."

Quinn smirked, tilting his head against the headrest, his eyes flickering toward you. "Would’ve done it already if I wanted to."

Then, before either of you could think too much about it, his hand reached out, his pinky brushing against yours on the center console, like testing the waters, like answering more questions without words. It was enough.

He squeezed your hand once.

You squeezed back. An answer.

#quinn hughes fic #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes x you #nhl fic #quinn hughes #quinn hughes blurb #quinn hughes imagine

652 notes · View notes