#faints dramatically into your arms with my arm draped over my face

[unconventional-lawnchair]

Self Fulfilling Prophecy

Sirius Black x Potter!Reader

Summary: Potters love like it's a sport, but it seems that only a Black can challenge that.

WC: 3.6k

CW: Sexual leaning scene, Hurt Comfort right back to Hurt, background Jegulily, Alphard Black the gay.

The first thing you notice when you wake up is Sirius’s arm draped lazily over your waist, his fingers tracing slow, deliberate patterns along your bare skin. The sunlight filters through the curtains, casting soft golden light across the room, turning the tousled sheets into a hazy, dreamlike mess. The scent of Sirius- smoke, cedar, and something warmer, more distinctly him- lingers in the air, wrapping around you like a second blanket.

You shift slightly, careful not to disturb the warmth around you, and feel Sirius stir behind you. His breath brushes against the back of your neck, followed by the low rumble of his voice, thick with sleep. "Morning, trouble."

A smile tugs at your lips before you can stop it. “Morning,” You mumble, voice soft and still tinged with the haze of sleep.

Sirius leaned up on his elbow, the lazy grin he always wore stretched across his face. His fingers ghosted over the faint marks he had left along your neck, brushing over them like they’re something sacred. “Look at you,” His voice dipped lower. “A proper masterpiece. I should frame you.”

You swat at him, heat rushing to your cheeks. “Shut up.”

“Oh, I mean it,” Sirius smirked as he dodged your half-hearted attack. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you enjoyed last night more than you’re letting on.”

Your fingers twitch against the sheets, and you fight the urge to glance at him again. You lose. He’s already watching you, that teasing gleam in his grey eyes, like he knows exactly what you’re thinking. And damn him, he probably does. Your eyes flick down, and that’s when you notice the marks on his chest- red scratches trailing down his sides, love bites peppered along his collarbone. 

Your cheeks burned hotter.

Sirius noticed. Of course he does. He leaned in, his grin downright smug. “Admiring your handiwork, love?”

“I’m admiring the fact that you didn’t fall apart under pressure,” Your words were quick but locked any real bite.

“Oh, I definitely fell apart,” He murmured, his voice low and dangerously smooth, like silk sliding over bare skin. He trailed a hand down your back, pulling you just a little closer. “You made it easy.”

You laughed, soft and genuine, before gently pushing his hand away and sitting up. “Alright, that’s enough of that,” you said lightly, brushing a hand through your hair as you swung your legs off the bed. The warmth of the morning fades slightly as your feet hit the cool floor.

Sirius lets out a dramatic groan behind you, flopping onto his back like you’ve just delivered a mortal wound. “What, you’re leaving already? I thought we’d at least have breakfast. Maybe share a cigarette. Do that thing where you call me insufferable and I remind you you’re madly in love with me.”

You glance over your shoulder, raising an eyebrow. “You’ve got a hell of a memory for something that didn’t happen.”

“Oh, but it will,” He ran his fingers through his hair, propping himself up on an elbow, his grin widened. “Mark my words, love. You’ll miss me by lunch. Or sooner.”

You snort, rolling your eyes as you gather your clothes. “Whatever you say, Pads.”

“Mm, you kept a keen ear for what I said last night.” He teased in that insufferable song of his, watching you with an infuriatingly casual air as you pull on your shirt. “But you’re leaving in my favorite shirt, which means I’ll have to track you down to get it back. Convenient, isn’t it?”

You glanced down, realizing you are indeed wearing one of his threadbare band tees, and roll your eyes. “Consider it compensation. For the rabid assault one my neck I endured.”

“Oh, you wound me,” He sighed dramatically, rolling out of bed. “Stealing my shirt, leaving me all alone… You’re really a heartbreaker, trouble.”

Despite yourself, you laughed, slipping on your shoes and brushing your hair out of your face. Sirius was already pulling on his trousers, looking every bit the disheveled rogue he prides himself on. By the time you’ve straightened yourself up, he leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching you with that lopsided grin that always makes you feel like he’s up to something.

“Need anything before you go?” He prodded, his tone light, almost mockingly polite. “Coffee? Another round of ego-boosting compliments? My eternal devotion?”

You shook your head, smirking. “I’m good, thanks. And as for your eternal devotion, I think James called dibs on that.”

Sirius chuckled, following you to the door. “Yeah, well, he doesn’t wear my shirts nearly as well as you do. Don’t tell him I said that, though.”

“Your secret’s safe with me, Pads,” You smirked, turning to look at him as you pulled the door open.

He stepped closer, brushing a lock of hair out of your face with a lazy affection that feels almost second nature. Before you said anything, he kissed you- not desperate or heavy, just Sirius, soft and familiar, like it’s the most natural thing in the world. When he pulled back, he grinned and muttered, “I love you,” that same way he always has, like it’s just another part of his vocabulary.

You smile faintly, choosing to ignore it. As you always have. “See you around, Siri.”

“Mhm,” He smiled easily, leaning against the doorframe as you step outside. “And don’t think for a second you’re keeping that shirt.”

You toss him a smirk over your shoulder. “Guess you’ll have to come and get it.”

Sirius stays in the doorway, watching you until you disappear around the corner. Whispering a soft curse as he watched you turn the corner.

~~~

In every single universe, a Potter falls for a Black.

And in every single universe, it didn't end well.

You knew it better than most. From the look in your brother's eyes in his seventh year, when you found him crying in the common room. He confessed to you then, about him. About Lily. About Regulus. 

You would say you were surprised to learn about what those three had been up to together, but it only reinforced your firm belief in this messy web you were born into. 

It was like a self fulfilling prophecy. Just a year earlier, you sat with your father in the kitchen, listening to stories about him and a young Alphard Black. He didn't have to tell you what he meant to him, you could see it. In the way he looked at the photo book- in the way he looked after Sirius.

Potters and Blacks would find each other in every reality, in every universe, in every bloody cliche. And every single time, it would end with someone shattered.  

For your father, it ended with Alphard estranged and lost to time- the only true family he had left going to seek refuge in the arms of the man he once loved- their love buried under the weight of duty and expectations. For James, it ended with Regulus’s name carved into a cold, unforgiving wall in the Department of Mysteries, a ghost of what could have been.  

And for you…  

You weren’t sure yet.  

You closed your eyes briefly, the crisp morning air biting at your cheeks as you walked further from Sirius’s flat. The weight of his kiss, his touch, lingered like a brand. It wasn’t fair how easily he could pull you back in, how effortlessly he made you forget the countless reasons why this wasn’t supposed to happen.  

It’ll end the same way it always does, You reminded yourself. Sirius might love endlessly, recklessly, but love alone had never been enough for the Potters and the Blacks. You knew this was temporary, just another bright, fleeting moment in a cycle destined to burn out.  

But Sirius wasn’t like your father, wasn’t like James. His love wasn’t something quiet and tragic- it was loud, defiant, impossible to ignore. He loved you like he was daring the universe to try and stop him.  

What terrified you more than anything was the universe usually had the last laugh.

You reminded him every time you slipped into his bed. That it wasn't love, it wasn't more than this. 

And every single time he just smiled, as if he knew something you didn’t.  

Sirius Black never argued when you said it wasn’t love. He never fought when you insisted it was just a fleeting thing, something to pass the time, a distraction from the war, from the scars it left on both of you. He let you tell yourself that, let you believe it, but the look in his eyes always betrayed him.  

Because Sirius loved with the kind of intensity that burned everything else away, and no matter how many times you told him this wasn’t forever, he never stopped looking at you like you were.  

“Whatever you need me to be, love,” He'd whisper, his voice soft but steady, as if daring you to test the limits of his patience.  

And that was the problem, wasn’t it? Sirius never played by the universe’s rules. He’d already broken them a hundred times over- leaving the Black family, choosing James and the Marauders, standing on the side of a war that could have killed him. What was one more rebellion, one more forbidden love? 

But you weren’t Sirius. You didn’t have his boundless courage or his endless defiance. You couldn’t throw yourself into love with the same reckless abandon, couldn’t let yourself believe that this time, it would be different.  

So every time you left his bed, every time you pulled on one of his shirts and walked out the door, you told yourself it didn’t matter. You told yourself it was better this way- better to keep things simple, fleeting, to leave before it got too real.  

And every time, Sirius just let you go, leaning casually against the doorframe, a half-smirk on his lips that never quite reached his eyes.  

~~~

You hadn't seen Sirius since that morning. Not like you were trying particularly hard, he had The Order and you had your Auror work to busy yourself with. The next time you did see him, you were scared half to death.

The panic in James’s voice is what froze your blood. He didn't explain much over the Floo- just a frantic “Sirius is hurt. You need to come. Now.”

You didn't hesitate, heart in your throat as you grabbed your wand and Apparated to the safe house. The spinning sensation barely registered as you landed in the living room, your eyes immediately darting around for Sirius.  

Instead, you saw James pacing furiously, running a hand through his hair as he muttered to himself. Lily sat nearby, trying to calm him.  

“He’s going to be fine, James,” Her tone was soft- soothing but almost tired.  

James didn't respond, just kept pacing, his jaw tight. Across the room, Remus and Peter were talking in low voices, but you can’t hear them over the rush of blood in your ears.  

“Where is he?” You hissed- but not out of anger- it was the only tone you could take without letting the tears in your eyes spill over.

James finally stopped, turning to you with an expression that’s equal parts relief and frustration. “He’s in the other room. He took a hit, but Remus patched him up. I told him to stay in bed, but of course, he-”

Before James can finish, the door to the kitchen creaked open, and there he was.  

Sirius Black.  

Alive, upright, and grinning like he hasn’t just shaved years off your life.  

He was shirtless, a fresh bandage wrapped diagonally across his chest, and his hair is a wild mess, but he looked fine. More than fine, in fact, because he immediately started to crack a joke.  

“See, James? Told you I’d have the most dramatic scar story at the pub.” He traced the lining of the bandages with a chuckle. “Birds love scars.”

The room collectively groaned, but not you. You couldn't seem to move, standing frozen as relief crashed over you in waves so strong it almost buckled your knees.  

He noticed you then, his grin softening as his grey eyes locked onto yours.  

“Hey, trouble,” He whispered, as casual as ever.  

You didn't think. You didn't process. You just moved.  

In three quick strides, you were in front of him, your hands grabbed at his shoulders as if to confirm he was really there. And then, before you could stop yourself, you kissed him.

It was hard and desperate, your lips pressed against his with all the relief, fear, and love you’ve been holding back for years. Sirius froze for a fraction of a second before he melted into you, his hand coming up to cup the back of your neck and his other slipping around your waist, as he deepened the kiss.  

Sirius pulled back slightly, just enough to rest his forehead against yours, his grey eyes searched your face. His hand is still cradling the back of your neck, his thumb brushing small, calming circles into your skin. He looks completely love-struck, his lips quirked into a soft smile as he takes in your tear-filled eyes.

“Don’t cry, love,” He murmured, his voice low and tender. “I’m here. Still breathing, still kicking. It’s going to take more than that to get rid of me.”

You shook your head, your hands fisted in the fabric of his trousers. You tugged him closer, as if the space between you had personally offended you; hardly able to whisper “You scared the hell out of me, Sirius. I thought- I thought-”

Your voice cracked, and Sirius pressed a gentle kiss to your temple, his lips lingering there for a moment. “I’m sorry,” He whispered against your skin. “I’m sorry, trouble.”

“That's not fair.” You practically croaked, leaning closer to brush your own kiss against his lips. He smiled into it, no matter how careful and quick it was. Your voice hitched at the end, as if this was all some scheme, trying to get you to understand- maybe pity the poor fool before it was too late. “You're not playing fair.”

Sirius's smile widened slightly, soft and crooked, the kind of smile that could pull you under if you weren’t careful. His thumb continued to trace gentle circles against your neck, grounding you, tethering you to him. He tilted his head, his voice low and teasing, but the affection in his gaze betrayed him. 

“When have I ever played fair, love?” He murmured, the words brushing against your lips. “You should know by now, I don’t give up.”

You shook your head, letting out a shaky breath as tears welled in your eyes again. “You make it impossible, Sirius. You make it so damn hard to stay away.”

“Good,” He hissed softly, his voice tinged with a vulnerability he rarely let anyone see. “Because I don’t want you to stay away. I don’t care how long it takes. I’ll wait. I’ll take whatever you’re willing to give me. Just… don’t walk away from me, alright?”

Your breath hitched as Sirius’s thumb brushed away a tear rolling down your cheek. His grey eyes softened as he tilted his head, his expression warm and teasing, but his voice tinged with sincerity. 

“I hate you,” You whispered, your voice barely audible and cracking under the weight of your emotions.  

“Yeah?” He murmured, his lips quirking upward, a hint of mischief in his grin.  

“I hate you so much, Siri,” You echoed, though the words lacked venom.  

“Do you, now?” Sirius teased gently, his voice soft as he slowly cradled your face in his hands. His thumbs traced light, soothing patterns along your jawline, grounding you.  

And then he kissed you- soft and slow, like he had all the time in the world. It wasn’t desperate or frantic. It was Sirius: steady, deliberate, and impossibly tender. You felt your knees weaken as you melted into him, his warmth washing over you like a balm to the panic still lingering in your chest.  

For a moment, it was just you and him, the rest of the world fading into the background. But then-

“Ahem,” Someone cleared their throat loudly, shattering the fragile bubble. You had to remind yourself you couldn't rim anyone up by their neck today- especially after the show you just put on.

You jumped back slightly, your cheeks burning as you turned to see James standing there, arms crossed, his eyebrows raised so high they were practically disappearing into his hairline.  

“Well,” James said slowly, his voice dripping with disbelief and barely concealed amusement. “This certainly explains a lot.”

“Oh, bugger off, James,” Sirius drawled, not even bothering to let go of your waist as he smirked at his best friend.  

James let out a sharp, incredulous laugh, gesturing between the two of you. “How long has this been going on? And why am I only just finding out now?”  

You buried your face in your hands, your mortification complete. “This is not how I wanted you to find out,” You mumbled.  

Sirius, of course, was utterly unbothered. “Well, Prongs, in all fairness- I just found out myself.”

Okay, that one did earn retaliation. 

You quickly hit his side and he gave a sound of dramatic pain, leaning down to steal another kiss as if that was punishment enough for your abuse. 

James let out another sharp laugh, his hands on his hips now as he surveyed the scene. “Oh, you just found out, did you, Pads? That’s rich, considering the way you’ve been looking at her for years. And the rest of us have had to sit through it without saying a word.”

Lily peaked from around James, arms crossed and a smirk playing on her lips. “To be fair, I think Remus had a bet going on how long it would take for this exact situation to happen.”

Remus smirked at you, looking thoroughly unimpressed but clearly amused. “I did, actually. I’m collecting later.” 

“Remus!” You snapped, turning your mortified glare on him, though Sirius’s arms around your waist kept you rooted firmly in place. “You’re supposed to be the sensible one!”

“Oh, come on,” Remus replied, deadpan. “You’re lucky it wasn’t Peter. He was ready to start taking notes.”

Peter peeked out from behind Remus, his cheeks flushed but a sheepish grin on his face. “I thought it might help with… er, strategy. You know, for later.”

“Later?” Sirius grinned, ever the opportunist. “What, Pete, you planning to steal her away from me?”

“Godric, no!” Peter blurted, his hands shooting up defensively. “I’d never- she’s- you two- no!”

James threw an arm around Peter’s shoulders, laughing. “Relax, Pete. You’re not stepping on Pads’ toes anytime soon.” He turned his gaze back to you and Sirius, his expression softening just enough to let you know he was, despite his theatrics, happy for you. “You’re lucky he’s absolutely gone for you,” James muttered, the barest hint of fondness in his tone. “Otherwise, I might have had to step in.”

Sirius smirked, squeezing your waist with unmistakable pride. “Don’t worry, Prongs. She’s stuck with me now.”

You let out a groan, pinching the bridge of your nose. “You are all insufferable.”

Lily stepped forward, shaking her head with a grin as she took James’s hand. “Come on, James. Let’s leave them alone before Sirius starts waxing poetic.”

“Too late!” Sirius quipped, and before anyone could stop him, he pulled you closer and began reciting dramatically, “Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day-”

“Pads!” You hissed, trying to stifle a laugh as the others groaned and began filing out, muttering about needing stronger drinks to survive the two of you.  

When the door finally closed behind them, you looked back at Sirius, shaking your head in exasperation. “You’re insane.”

Sirius tilted his head, his gray eyes dancing with affection as he grinned down at you. “So, does this mean we’re official now, or do I still need to charm you with my devilish wit and roguish good looks?”

You rolled your eyes, biting back a smile as you tried to shake off the lingering warmth from his teasing. “Oh, Merlin, don’t push it, Black. I already have James to deal with. I don’t need you adding fuel to the fire.”

Sirius feigned offense, clutching his chest where the bandages wrapped tightly around him. “I’m wounded! You’re only agreeing to this to keep Prongs happy? I thought I was irresistible.”

You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms as you leaned back against the hallway table. “You? Irresistible? That’s a stretch. I just don’t want to disappoint James- his fragile heart couldn’t take it if I broke yours.”

He stepped closer, closing the small distance between you with that stupid, lopsided grin still plastered on his face. His hands found your waist again, holding you firmly yet gently, like you might slip away if he didn’t. “Admit it, love,” He murmured, his voice low and entirely too smug. “You’d hate to disappoint me, too.”

Your cheeks warmed, and you tried to look anywhere but at him. “You’re the worst.”

“Maybe.” Sirius leaned in, brushing his nose against yours, “Terrible, flea ridden, bug eyed, everything you could possibly think of- it's bloody maddening when all I want is to be yours.”

You sighed, shaking your head but unable to stop the small smile tugging at your lips. “You are Sirius.”

“Good.” He kissed you again, soft and slow, as though savoring the moment. When he pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours, his voice dropping into something quieter, more sincere. “Because I don’t care what anyone else says or bets on. I’ve been yours for a long time, and I’m not letting go.”

Your heart skipped at his words, but you played it off with a scoff, lightly smacking his arm. “You’re such a sap, Black.”

“And you love it,” He teased, his grin wide and carefree as he pressed another kiss to your forehead.

You didn’t deny it. You couldn’t. Because deep down, you knew you’d already lost the battle you’d been fighting for years. The love you carried for him had consumed you, piece by piece, until there was nothing left but him.

And so, you stopped fighting it. For years, you let that love pull you under, let it fill the cracks and scars you thought you’d buried too deep. It became part of you- wild, consuming, unrelenting.

Because in every single universe, a Potter falls for a Black.

And as you were reminded that October, as the leaves fell and the air grew colder, in every single universe, it doesn’t end well.

[itskinwell]

Primis dempsey dm pls i miss u big guy

[etheraltides]

Under Summer Skies

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x best friend!Reader

Summary: it was just a casual get together in your best friend’s yacht until it wasn’t anymore.

Warning(s): SMUT – dry humping, oral sex, pinv (wear condom, y’all), a bit of dirt talk. +18 ONLY mdni!

A/N: Grammarly keeps telling me to don’t use dots in the dialogues so who am I to argue?

The sun was setting, casting golden light over the deck of the yacht, and the gentle sway of the boat gave the illusion of an isolated world – just the two of you, surrounded by nothing but endless blue. No worries, no expectations to live to.

Rafe sat on the cushioned bench, his head tilted back, an arm draped lazily over the backrest. He wore nothing but his swim trunks, his skin kissed by the sun from a long afternoon spent on the water. His sharp blue eyes were fixed on you, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips while you did your best to don’t get distracted by him.

“Are you seriously going to do this?” he asked, his tone playful but teasing as he watched you rummaging through your purse.

You grinned, holding up the pair of tweezers you’d plucked from your bag. “Yes. Your eyebrows are a disaster, Rafe. Someone has to fix them, and I’m your best friend, so I’m taking one for the team.”

He rolled his eyes, but the smirk didn’t leave his face. “I don’t need my eyebrows fixed. They’re fine.”

“They’re uneven” you countered, stepping closer and nudging his shoulder. “Come on, don’t be a baby.”

Rafe groaned dramatically but leaned back, letting his head rest against the back of the bench. “Fine, but don’t mess me up. I don’t want to look like a girl.”

You snorted, settling yourself beside him. “Relax, I’m not going to butcher you. Just sit still.”

You reached for his face, your fingers brushing lightly against his jaw as you angled his head toward you. Rafe’s skin was warm under your touch, his subtle stubble tickling against your fingertips, and you tried to ignore the way your pulse fluttered when his eyes flicked up to meet yours.

“Okay…” you said softly, your voice steadier than you felt. “Stay still.”

You began plucking, your focus narrowing in on the tiny hairs that needed to go. Rafe winced slightly, his hand twitching like he wanted to reach up and bat you away.

“Stop squirming!” you scolded, biting back a smile.

“It hurts.” he complained, his tone petulant as he couldn’t back the smile. It was adorable the way you bit your lips in concentration, the crease between your brows making it just the more adorable.

“Oh, come on. You act like you’re so tough, and you can’t handle a little tweezing?”

Rafe’s lips twitched, his smirk returning. “I’m plenty tough. I just don’t see why this is necessary.”

“It’s called grooming, Rafe. You should try it sometime.”

He laughed softly, the sound low and rich, and you felt it settle in your chest.

But then he shifted, his hands gripping your hips lightly as he said, “Here. You can’t reach like that. Come here.”

Before you could protest, Rafe tugged you forward, pulling you into his lap in a swift motion.

Your breath caught as you landed on him, straddling his thighs. His hands stayed on your hips, his grip firm but not forceful, and the heat of his skin burned through the thin fabric of your bikini. You feared that he could heart you fast beating heart now.

“Better?” he asked, his voice lower now, his blue eyes shining in the golden light.

You tried to keep your composure, to ignore the sudden spark of tension crackling between you, but it was impossible. Rafe’s gaze was locked on yours, his smirk replaced by something softer, something heavier.

“Y-Yeah, sure.” you managed, your voice barely above a whisper.

Your hands trembled slightly as you raised the tweezers again, but the task suddenly felt monumental with the way Rafe was looking at you. His eyes dipped to your lips, just for a moment, before flicking back up to meet yours.

“Are you nervous?” he asked, his tone teasing but edged with something else.

“What? Me nervous of you?” you said quickly, though your voice betrayed you. “Absolutely not.”

Rafe’s smirk returned, but this time it was slower, more deliberate. “Liar.”

You rolled your eyes, trying to regain some semblance of control. “Stay still, Cameron, or I’m going to accidentally pluck half your eyebrow off.”

“Go ahead,” he murmured, his voice dropping lower. “I trust you.”

The weight of his words settled between you, heavier than they should have been, and you found yourself unable to look away from him. His hands flexed slightly on your hips, his thumbs brushing against your skin in a way that made your stomach flip.

“Rafe.” you said softly, your voice faltering.

“What?” he asked, his tone light but his expression serious.

“This is…” You trailed off, unsure of how to finish the sentence.

“Different?” he offered, tilting his head slightly, his thumb tracing lazy circles on the soft skin of your hips.

You nodded, your fingers still resting against his jaw, the tweezers forgotten in your hand.

Rafe’s gaze flicked down to your lips again, lingering this time. His hands tightened on your hips, pulling you a fraction closer, and you felt your breath hitch as the space between you disappeared.

“Tell me to stop.” he whispered, his voice barely audible over the sound of the water.

You didn’t say anything. You couldn’t.

Instead, you leaned in, your lips brushing against his in a kiss that was tentative at first, testing the waters. But Rafe didn’t hesitate. His hands slid up your sides, pulling you closer as he deepened the kiss, his lips moving against yours with a hunger that made your head spin.

The tweezers slipped from your hand, forgotten as your fingers tangled in his hair. His hands roamed your body, sliding beneath your bikini top to rest on the bare skin, his touch warm and firm.

“Rafe,” you murmured against his lips, your voice trembling.

He pulled back just enough to look at you, his blue eyes dark and heavy-lidded. “You want me to stop?”

You shook your head, your fingers tightening in his hair as you pulled him back in. His lips crashed against yours, his kisses growing more desperate, more insistent.

The air between you was electric, charged with a tension that had been simmering for far too long. Every touch, every kiss felt like a spark igniting something deeper, something neither of you could ignore anymore.

Rafe’s hands gripped your hips, guiding you closer, and you gasped as the movement sent a jolt of heat through your body.

“Tell me this isn’t just me,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your jawline, his voice rough and edged with vulnerability.

“It’s not just you,” you whispered, your hands sliding down to rest on his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath your palms.

“Good,�� he said, his voice soft but sure, before capturing your lips in another searing kiss.

The sun dipped lower, casting the yacht in golden shadows, and for a moment, it felt like the rest of the world had disappeared. It was just you and Rafe, tangled together in a moment you’d never forget.

Rafe’s kisses grew more desperate, his hands gripping your hips firmly, pulling you flush against him. The tension between you was thick, electric, and you could feel his breath hitch as he shifted beneath you.

Your fingers slid through his hair, tugging gently as his lips moved from your mouth to your jawline, then lower, grazing the curve of your neck. His stubble left a faint scratch against your skin, but the sensation only added to the heat pooling in your stomach.

“Rafe…” you whispered, your voice breathless, your nails digging into his shoulders for support.

“Mm,” he hummed against your neck, the sound low and rough. His hands roamed your waist, sliding up beneath your bikini top, his touch warm and deliberate. “You have no idea what you do to me.”

He shifted again, and you felt it – the unmistakable press of his arousal beneath you, hard and insistent. Your breath hitched as he rolled his hips, the motion deliberate, sending a spark of heat through your core.

“Rafe—” you started, but the rest of the sentence was lost as he tilted his head back, his hands guiding your hips to match his slow, rhythmic movements.

“You okay?” he murmured, his voice strained but soft, his blue eyes searching yours.

You nodded, your lips parting as another wave of heat rippled through you. “Yeah,” you whispered, your hands gripping his shoulders for balance as he rocked his hips again, harder this time.

The friction was intoxicating, every roll of his body against yours sending sparks of pleasure through you. His hands slid lower, gripping your ass as he guided you, his breathing heavy and uneven.

“God,” he muttered, his voice breaking slightly as he buried his face in your neck. “You feel so good.”

You couldn’t respond – could barely think – as his movements grew more insistent, his body pressed so tightly against yours that it felt like there was nothing separating you. The sensation was overwhelming, every nerve ending alive and alight with sensation.

“Rafe!” you gasped, your fingers clawing at his shoulders as he thrust upward again, harder, drawing a soft moan from your lips.

His lips found yours again, his kiss deep and heated, and you could feel the tension in his body building with every movement. His hands gripped your hips tightly, almost desperately, as if he couldn’t get close enough.

“Say my name,” he whispered, his voice rough and filled with something raw and needy.

“Rafe,” you breathed, the sound trembling as it left your lips.

He groaned at the sound, his movements faltering slightly before he caught himself, his pace quickening. The sensation, the intimacy, the heat – it was almost too much, and yet it wasn’t anywhere near enough.

“God, you’re perfect.” he murmured, his voice cracking as he kissed you again, his lips trailing down your neck. “I’ve wanted this… wanted you… for so long.”

The confession sent a shiver down your spine, and you clung to him, your body moving instinctively with his. The world outside the yacht didn’t exist anymore – it was just you and Rafe, tangled together in a haze of heat and longing. Something you have pushed aside for so long in fear of ruining your friendship that it just blew in your faces now.

And in that moment, nothing else mattered.

With every thrust of his hips, you could feel the fabric of your bikini bottom growing damp, the delicious friction building between your legs. Your breaths grew shorter, your heart racing in time with the rhythm he set, and your body responded to his urgency with a fiery need of its own.

“Rafe, wait,” you whispered, pulling back slightly, your eyes searching his. “We shouldn’t do this—it’ll ruin everything.”

He stilled beneath you, his eyes searching yours, his expression a mix of surprise and hunger. You could see the desire warring with something deeper, something that made your stomach flip. For a moment, you thought he might pull away, might agree with your rational words. But instead, he leaned in closer, his voice a soft murmur against your skin.

“It won’t ruin us,” he said, his thumbs tracing gentle circles on the bare skin of your thighs. “We’re already more than just friends, aren’t we?”

Before you could respond, he hooked his thumbs into the band of your panties and pushed it aside, sliding the fabric just enough to expose the slick heat of your folds. His eyes darkened, and he leaned in, his breath hot against your ear. “Let me show you how good it can be, baby.”

With a gentle nudge, he coaxed you to move, his own hips grinding up to meet yours as you slid down his body, the fabric of his shorts abrading your sensitive skin. His thumbs stroked the damp fabric, tracing the edges of your pussy, and you felt a tremor run through you, your protests dying in your throat as a strangled moan escaped instead.

The ache grew, pulsing with every beat of your heart, demanding more as he teased you, the anticipation driving you wild. You could feel the fabric of your panties sticking to your wetness, and the friction was exquisite, a sweet torment that had you writhing against him.

“Please, Rafe,” you begged, the words slipping from your lips before you could stop them. The shyness had melted away under the weight of your desire, leaving only a raw, unbridled need. “I need—I need you to—”

He smirked up at you, a knowing glint in his eyes, and leaned back, his hand disappearing beneath the waistband of his shorts. You watched, transfixed, as he pulled out his cock, thick and hard, the tip glistening with pre-cum. His hand wrapped around it, stroking slow and deliberate, the motion mesmerizing. The sight of him touching himself, the way his muscles tensed and his breathing grew ragged, was more than you could bear.

Without a moment’s hesitation, you leaned down, your mouth watering at the thought of tasting him. You took the head of his cock between your lips, feeling the heat and velvet smoothness, and he groaned, his hips jerking upward. You took him deeper, letting your tongue dance along the underside as your hand found his length, stroking in time with your mouth. He tasted like salt and man, a heady flavor that made your senses swirl.

Rafe’s eyes rolled back in his head, his hands gripping the edge of the cushion as you worked him with a passion that surprised even yourself. You’d never felt this wanton before, never been so eager to please, but something about the situation had unlocked something primal within you. You took him deeper still, feeling the tip of his cock hit the back of your throat, the muscles there convulsing around him as you struggled not to gag.

He watched you, his eyes hooded and dark with lust, his breaths coming in ragged pants. “Fuck, you’re so good at this,” he murmured, his voice tight with restraint. You felt a thrill of power at his words, a sense of control that only made you more eager to serve him.

With a graceful move, you shifted onto all fours beside him on the plush cushion, his cock still in your hand. The cooler air of the yacht’s cabin washed over your heated skin, sending a shiver through you. The position was more comfortable now, and you took full advantage, leaning down to suck him in deeper, your cheeks hollowing as you drew on him. His hand found the back of your head, his fingers tangling in your hair as he guided you, his hips bucking in time with your movements.

But then he stilled, his eyes dropping to your thighs, where your arousal had started to dribble down. His gaze darkened, and he tugged gently on your hair, urging you to look up.

“What’s the matter?” you asked, breathless, your hand still moving up and down his shaft.

He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. “I want to taste you,” he said, his voice thick with desire. “Let me lick your sweet pussy, baby.”

The words sent a fresh wave of arousal through you, and you nodded, your breathing shallow. He helped you stand, his eyes never leaving your body, and you could feel his gaze like a physical touch. You stepped out of your bikini bottoms, the fabric falling away to reveal your bare skin, glistening with your desire. You stepped closer to him, standing at the edge of the cushion, and he reached for your thighs, urging you to straddle his face as he laid down.

You hesitated for a moment, but the need was too strong. You positioned yourself over his mouth, his warm breath fanning over your sex. He looked up at you, his eyes smoldering, and you felt your knees tremble slightly. And then his tongue was there, licking a long, slow line up the center of your pussy, from bottom to top. You moaned, the sound echoing through the cabin, and he groaned in response, his hands sliding up to grip your ass, pulling you closer.

It was messy and desperate, his tongue delving into your folds, lapping at your clit with a hunger that mirrored your own. His beard scratched against your sensitive skin, the sensation adding to the delicious assault on your senses. You could feel the wetness of his mouth, his saliva mingling with your arousal, and the sight of his blonde hair sticking to your thighs was almost too much. He feasted on you, his mouth working against you with a ferocity that had your eyes rolling back in your head.

You grabbed the railing above for balance, your body rocking against his face. You felt the orgasm building, a pressure that grew and grew with every stroke of his tongue, every nip of his teeth. It was as if he could sense it, his movements becoming more urgent, his grip on your hips tightening as he brought you closer and closer to the edge.

“Rafe, I’m going to come,” you moaned, warning him through gritted teeth. But instead of slowing down, he only redoubled his efforts, his tongue flicking rapidly against your clit, his teeth grazing the sensitive flesh. The pleasure was so intense it was almost painful, a knot of sensation coiling tighter and tighter within you.

With a final, desperate moan, you climaxed, your body convulsing as waves of pleasure washed over you. Rafe’s tongue didn’t stop, though, continuing to work you through your orgasm, drawing it out until you were trembling and weak. You collapsed against the railing, your legs shaking, your breath coming in pants.

“Holy shit,” you murmured, your voice hoarse. “That was—”

But your words were cut off as Rafe’s mouth moved away from your pussy, his eyes shining with lust as he sat up, his cock standing tall and demanding. He reached for you, pulling you back down onto his lap so that you were straddling him once again. This time, however, he positioned the tip of his cock at your entrance.

“Take it slow, baby,” he murmured, his hands guiding yours to his chest, his heart hammering beneath your palms. “Let me in.”

You nodded, taking a deep breath, and then, with a gentle rock of your hips, you slid down onto him. He filled you, stretching you in a way that made you gasp, his cock thick and hot and perfect. The sensation was so intense that for a moment, you couldn’t move, could only sit there, feeling him buried deep inside you.

“Fuck, you feel amazing,” Rafe groaned, his hands moving to cup your breasts, his thumbs teasing your nipples to hard points.

You bit your lip, your eyes fluttering shut as he began to rock his hips beneath you, his cock moving in and out in a slow, deliberate rhythm that had your insides clenching around him. Each stroke sent a new ripple of pleasure through your body, and you found yourself moving with him, your hips rising and falling to meet his.

The sound of your skin slapping against his filled the open deck, a testament to the passion that had overtaken you both. The sea breeze danced across your skin, adding a cool contrast to the heat of your bodies.

“Look at me, baby,” Rafe rasped, his voice thick with desire. You opened your eyes to find his gaze locked onto yours, his pupils blown wide with lust. You took his words as a command, your hips moving in tandem with his, your breasts bouncing with every thrust.

“That’s it,” he murmured, his hands sliding up your body to cradle your face. “Take it all. You’re so fucking wet for me. You’re perfect, just like I knew you’d be.”

With a your bottom lip trapped between your teeth, you begin to grind in a slow, sensual circle, watching Rafe’s eyes roll back as he loses himself in the tight, slick embrace of your pussy. The feel of him inside you was intoxicating, filling you to the brim and sending waves of pleasure crashing through your body. Each rotation brought a fresh rush of sensation, his cock hitting all the right spots, and you felt yourself growing wetter and wetter with every pass.

His hands slid from your face to your hips, his grip firm as he helped guide your movements, his own hips rising to meet you. The sound of his breath grew ragged, and you knew he was just as lost in the moment as you were. The pressure built again, a delicious ache that had your muscles clenching around him, urging him deeper, begging for release.

“I’m close,” you gasped, your voice a desperate whine.

“Shit. Me too, baby,” Rafe groaned, his eyes never leaving yours as he pumped his hips up to meet yours. The friction was unbearable, the tension coiling in your stomach, tightening until you thought you might shatter.

With a final, powerful thrust, you both reached the peak, your orgasms crashing over you in a tumultuous wave of pleasure. You cried out, your nails digging into his chest as your body tightened around him, the muscles of your pussy pulsing in a delicious rhythm that matched the pounding of your heart. Rafe’s eyes squeezed shut, his teeth gritted as he emptied himself inside you, his cock jerking with every drop of his release.

For a moment, you stayed there, suspended in time, your bodies locked together in a silent symphony of ecstasy. And then, as the world slowly began to come back into focus, you slumped against him, your head resting on his shoulder, your breaths coming in ragged gasps. His arms tightened around you, holding you close, as if afraid to let go.

“We don’t have to talk about this today,” Rafe murmured against your hair, his voice a soothing balm to the sudden tension that had coiled around your heart.

You nodded, your eyes still squeezed shut, trying to come back from the remnants of your climax. “Okay,” you managed to whisper, your voice shaky.

As your breathing began to even out, a laugh bubbled up from your chest, and you couldn’t hold it in. “What’s so funny?” Rafe asked, his voice still strained from his own release.

You leaned back slightly, looking into his eyes with a small smile playing on your lips. “I still ain’t done trimming your eyebrows though,” you teased, lightly brushing his brow.

[margeoww]

Strong Enough for You

back to my masterlist

pairing: percy jackson x gf!reader

summary: being in a relationship with Percy Jackson means adventure, danger, and plenty of moments to admire his heroism. But what you love most? His quiet moments of vulnerability—and, of course, those arms that could rival the gods themselves.

a/n: okay guys, just look at him. I just wanted to write something related to this wonderful pic.

It wasn’t a secret, not really. Everyone at Camp Half-Blood had noticed Percy’s physical transformation over the years—his strength wasn’t just in his bravery or his loyalty; it was evident in the way he moved, the way he carried himself. And you? Well, you had front-row seats to it all.

Sitting on the steps of the Big House one sunny afternoon, you watched Percy from a distance as he helped the younger campers set up for capture the flag. His orange camp shirt clung to his shoulders, and his biceps flexed as he effortlessly lifted a heavy crate of shields.

—Are you even listening to me? —Annabeth’s voice broke through your daydream.

You blinked, turning to your best friend, who was smirking knowingly. —What?

Annabeth crossed her arms. —I was saying that Percy’s been showing off a little more lately. And judging by the way you’re staring, I think I know why.

Heat rushed to your cheeks. —I wasn’t staring.

Annabeth raised an eyebrow. —Sure, you weren’t. Look, you’ve been together for a year now. He’s obviously just as smitten with you as you are with him. Maybe it’s time to tell him how much you appreciate his hard work.

Later that evening, you found Percy by the campfire, absentmindedly poking at the flames with a stick. He looked up as you approached, his face lighting up in that way that always made your heart skip a beat.

—Hey. —he said, scooting over to make room for you. —How was your day?

You sat beside him, resting your head on his shoulder. —Better now.

Percy chuckled, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. —You’re cute when you’re sappy, you know that?

You tilted your head to look at him, your eyes trailing over his face and down to the strong line of his jaw. From there, your gaze wandered—his broad shoulders, the way his arms rested casually on his knees, the faint scars that told stories of battles won.

—Okay, what’s that look for? —Percy asked, amused.

You bit your lip, deciding to go for it. —I was just thinking… you’ve gotten really strong lately.

Percy blinked, caught off guard. —Uh, thanks? I mean, I’ve been training a lot, but..

—I like it. —you interrupted, your voice soft but teasing. —I mean, I really like it.

Percy’s face turned red, and he rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. -Oh. Well, that’s… good to know.

You grinned, leaning closer to press a kiss to his cheek. —Don’t get too cocky, Pers. But for the record, you’re ridiculously attractive.

A few days later, Percy seemed determined to test just how much you liked his newfound strength. During sparring practice, he pulled off a series of overly dramatic moves that had the other campers rolling their eyes—and had you trying very hard not to laugh.

Afterward, as you were both walking back to your cabins, he turned to you with a mischievous grin. —So… was that impressive enough for you?

You playfully shoved his shoulder. —You’re such a show-off.

—But you like it. —he countered, grabbing your hand to pull you closer. His voice dropped to a low murmur. —Admit it.

You rolled your eyes, but your smile gave you away. —Fine. Maybe I do. Just a little.

Percy leaned in, his lips brushing yours in a kiss that was sweet and unhurried. When he pulled back, his eyes were full of affection—and a hint of smugness.

—Good. —he said softly. —Because I’d do anything to keep you looking at me like that.

That night, as you lay together on the dock by the lake, Percy’s arm draped around your shoulders, you couldn’t help but trace your fingers over the muscles of his forearm.

—Do you ever get tired? —you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

—Tired of what?

—Carrying the weight of the world. —you said, your tone teasing but your words sincere.

Percy’s smile was soft as he turned to look at you. —Not when you’re here. —he said simply.

And in that moment, as the stars reflected in the water and his hand found yours, you realized that no amount of strength could compare to the way he made you feel: safe, loved, and completely at home.

[tokkiwrites]

summary: You're caught off guard when Wade calls you 'puppy'. He's even more shocked when he realizes how much it actually affects you in all the right ways. tags: pwp, established relationships, afab reader, pet play themes, degradation, dry humping, choking, cum eating, masturbaton (m receiving). /ᐠ - ˕ -マ⁩ authors note 𑁯 ✿ happy spookytokki kinktober!! my first deadpool fanfic yay!!! its kind of short, only 1.8k words but i hope you enjoy this nonetheless. not betad!

The soft glow of the TV flickers across the living room, casting shadows on the walls as you curl up next to Wade on the couch. The evening is unusually quiet, a break from the chaos that follows him around like a storm, something you'd gotten used to. His arm is draped gently over your shoulders, and your head rests against his chest, the steady rise and fall of his breathing making you feel safe, even when you know that quiet never lasts long with Wade. he keeps you safeㅡ you just wish he'd keep himself too.

Wade was flipping through channels with a practiced boredom, sighing dramatically every few seconds. “How is there nothing on TV? Hundreds of channels, and I still can’t find anything to keep my superior intellect entertained.”

You roll your eyes, leaning over to steal a piece of popcorn from his bowl. “Maybe because you’ve seen every movie that involves crazy inhuman acts at least ten times.”

“Or,” he says, pointing at you with mock seriousness, “they just don’t make ‘em like they used to. I mean, where’s the drama? The art? The—” He pauses, turning to look at you with a grin. “I’m just kidding. I’m way too distracted by your cute face to care about movies right now.” and you can't help but blush. it felt stupid, but he made you feel like you were a teenager in love all over again.

Wade shifts beside you, stretching his legs across the coffee table with a satisfied groan. “Ah, domestic bliss. You, me, questionable snacks, and the delightful sound of my own voice,” he says, breaking the silence. “Does it get any better than this? No bullets, no explosions… I’m practically a whole new Wade.”

You smile, leaning into his shoulder, the smell of his cologne and a faint trace of gunpowder still clinging to him. “You sure you’re okay with a quiet night in? I mean, I know you’ve got that... thing where you need constant action.”

“I am fully committed to this lifestyle,” Wade declares, patting your leg as if sealing the deal. “I’ve already planned out our entire evening: sit, snuggle, snack, snarky commentary, and then maybe I serenade you with my totally above-average karaoke skills. You’ll swoon, I’ll catch you, and we’ll live happily ever after. It’s like a Hallmark movie, but with better one-liners.”

You laugh softly, shaking your head at his antics. “Swooning’s a big maybe. And since when do you plan things?”

“Since I started dating a woman who demands excellence,” he says, giving you a dramatic, exaggerated wink. “I’m a changed man, baby. No more flying by the seat of my pants… unless those pants are on fire. Which, you know, happens more often than you’d think.”

"Let's just watch the movie, Wade." You whisper softly whilst planting a gentle peck on his lips.

A few minutes later, the credits of some random action movie roll on the screen, and you stretch, deciding to get up and grab a drink from the kitchen. “Do you want anything?” you ask, looking over your shoulder.

Wade leans back into the cushions, folding his arms behind his head. “Nah, I’m good. Thanks, puppy.”

You freeze mid-step, your hand gripping the edge of the counter, the word clinging to you like a spell. puppy? Your heart skips a beat, and you can feel the warmth creeping up your neck to your cheeks. The way it rolled off his tongue, like he didn’t even realize he’d said it, but it hits you harder than you’d like to admit, making your core burn up in an instant.

Turning around slowly, you glance at him, but Wade is staring at the TV, completely unfazed, as if calling you ‘puppy’ is the most normal thing in the world. “what did you just call me?” you ask, your voice coming out quieter than you intended, the heat washes over you.

Wade raises an eyebrow, turning to you with a smirk. “Huh? Oh, puppy? Yeah. What, you don’t like it?” He stretches his legs out a bit more, clearly enjoying the fact that he’s caught you off guard. You feel your face get even warmer, and you stammer, “I—I didn’t say that. It’s just… I didn’tㅡ” you stumble and get tangled in your own words.

His smirk grows, and he tilts his head as if he’s just made the most fascinating discovery. “Oh,” he says, drawing out the word. "you don’t mind it, huh, puppy?" Your stomach flips at the way he says it again, with just enough teasing in his tone to send your nerves into overdrive. You quickly busy yourself with grabbing a glass of water from the kitchen, hoping he won’t notice how flustered you’ve gotten.

But Wade is Wade, and of course, he notices. He’s grinning now, watching you with amused eyes as you awkwardly sip from your glass. It's like he can smell it on you. “You’re so cute when you’re all flustered, you know that?” he adds, still teasing. “Should I call you ‘puppy’ more often?”

You shake your head, trying to will away the blush on your cheeks, but you can’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. “No… I mean, maybe. I don’t knowㅡ I'm sorry, it's weird." he laughs, sitting up and pulling you back down onto the couch beside him. “Too late." he chirps, voice dropping down an octave.

You bury your face in your hands, trying your best to ignore the growing wetness in your panties. "Maybe I'll get you one of those cute collars, with a bell...make you crawl on all fours around the house, hm?" you let out a shaky breath, mumbling a soft 'Wade' as his hands snake around you and up your back, his rugged palm finally in your hair. "You'd want that, huh? be my good little puppy." the ringing in your ears picks up, heart running wildly in your chest as a hursh tug of you locks pulls you off of wade. "Show me."

"Whㅡ?"

"Show me you're a good pet, baby. Show me you deserve to have me as an owner." oh, and how your pussy flutters at his words, eyes wider than before, pupils fully blown out and lips puffy from how much you've bitten them. "You wanna make me proud, right?" you let yourself play his little dirty game, arousal coating your very being. "Y-Yes?"

"Yeah? Get down. On your knees, c'mon." You quickly obliged, not wanting to waste any more moments. the way his eyes scanned you, top to bottom as you kneeled in front of him, as if waiting for a treatㅡ it drove him mad.

"I want you to hump my leg." you choke a bit on your own breath. "Wade whatㅡ?" but he quickly shuts you up with a gentle slap to the mouth with the back of his hand. "Do dogs talk? I don't think so...They take orders and do as they're told." you gulp the knot in your throat, wades dark voice making each hair stand up on your body. something about this was so exciting, so new.

you hesitate at first, but with a few breaths in you scoot yourself over so that your clothed cunt is now directly on top of his foot, the sudden pressure on your swollen bud making you whimper. wade can't help but smile seeing you like this. his hand reaches out to the other end of the couch where a leather belt laid for the past few days. in a few moves the accessory is wrapped snug around your throat, with wade holding one end of it.

"Look so pretty like this, puppy. Go on now." he motions you to move. you slowly start rocking your hips, your knees already aching from the rough carpet underneath you, but the pain hurt so good mixed with the friction and heat from your underwear. the belt tightened as wade pulled on it, earning a soft gasp from you. "Faster, show me you want it."

and show you do. in a few second your speed picks up, breasts bouncing as you chase your high. your eyes are teary, vision blurry and mouth wide open as you gasp for air. the belt was digging into your skin, you knew you'd be bruised for the next few days, but you didn't care. "Open your mouth, pup." You're quick to obey, and the moment your lips part wade leans in closer only to spit right onto your lulled out tongue. "Swallow." he's stern and rough with his words and actions, leaning back as he watches you fuck yourself onto his leg. he enjoyed seeing you like this, nothing behind your eyes, just the thought of pleasing him. "You look so dumb right now, baby." he laughs, tugging harder at the belt. "I thought i needed to get you cockdrunkㅡ turns out i don't even need to give you any dick. there's literally nothing else in that small puppy brain of yours, huh?"

you whine and whimper as you feel your orgasm near, wades words only amplifying that feeling. you couldn’t even form a sentence. you didn’t even try. it felt perfect like this, at his feet. "Keep your tongue out." he commands, as he reaches his hand into the boxer shorts he was wearing and pulling out his erect shaft. the tip was leaking, and you swear it was harder than you've ever seen before. wades hand wraps tightly around the base of it, and gives it a few pumps as he watches you continuously rub yourself onto him. "Poor pussy, baby. probably so needy for this cock, hm?" you mumble a few incoherent 'yes's, fingers gripping tightly at his thighs. "Want me to come on you, pup? make you clean it up after, lick it all up like the good doggy you areㅡ shit." you were so close, you could barely hold your head up anymore.

"Fuckㅡ that's right, pup, earn it. Earn my come." he groans, stroking himself, veins pulsing, hips bucking up into his hand. your moans fill the room, the fuzzy feeling in your brain getting harder to overcome. thats when you feel it ripping through you, that familiar feeling that was pulled in your core now erupting like a million fireworks. your eyes roll back as you mindlessly keep moving your body. you hear wade mutter a harsh 'fuck' before you feel warm drops fall onto your tongue, face and chest, then trickle down. you try your best to swallow whatever you can as you both sit like that, breathless for a few second.

"And I thought I had weird kinksㅡ"

"Wade!"

[starksweasley]

Couch Wars // Rhysand x Reader

Summary: In which a petty argument leads to Rhysand proving just how impossible he can be (Fluff)

Word Count: 710

The bedroom felt too quiet without him. The argument had been stupid—a silly spat over who forgot to wash the training leathers—but both of you had let it spiral. Rhysand, with his calm, infuriating smirk, and you, with your dramatic flair. Neither of you would back down. So, here you were, dragging a blanket off the bed and storming into the living room like a martyr.

The couch wasn’t even comfortable. You huffed as you threw the blanket down, trying to convince yourself you didn’t care. As you curled up, staring at the dim light filtering in from the balcony, you heard footsteps behind you.

“What are you doing?” Rhysand’s voice broke the silence, smooth and curious. You didn’t turn to face him.

“I’m sleeping here tonight,” you declared, voice clipped.

He walked closer, his silhouette casting a shadow over you. “On the couch?”

“Yes, on the couch. Away from you.”

Rhys crouched beside you, his violet eyes catching the faint light. He tilted his head, studying you like you were the most perplexing puzzle he’d ever encountered. “Darling, this is ridiculous.”

You huffed, clutching the blanket tighter. “Well, I don’t want to sleep next to someone who refuses to admit they’re wrong.”

His lips twitched. “Funny. I was thinking the same thing about you.”

“Go away, Rhysand.”

Instead of leaving, he sank onto the couch beside you, one arm draping over your waist. He pulled you close with maddening ease, his scent—night-chilled wind and cedar—washing over you.

“Let go,” you muttered, squirming out of his grip. You flopped onto the other end of the couch, making your displeasure obvious.

Rhysand sighed exaggeratedly, the sound so theatrical it might have earned a laugh if you weren’t so irritated. “If this is how you want to play it, fine.” In one swift motion, he stood, grabbed you, and tossed you over his shoulder.

“Rhysand!” you shrieked, pounding on his back. Your laughter betrayed your indignation. “Put me down!”

“No can do,” he said, striding toward the bedroom. “This is for your own good.”

“You’re insufferable!”

“And you’re adorable when you’re angry.”

You’d barely managed to argue before he reached the bed. Rhysand tossed you onto the mattress with an unceremonious plop, climbing over you before you could escape. He pinned your wrists above your head, his weight caging you in.

“Let me go,” you pouted, your bottom lip jutting out dramatically, eyes narrowing into a glare that might’ve been intimidating… if he didn’t find it so endearing.

His grin was devastating. “Not until you admit you’re being a brat.”

Your glare could have cut glass. “Not until you say you’re sorry.”

Rhysand’s gaze softened, though amusement still danced in his eyes. He leaned closer, his breath brushing your cheek, his voice dropping to that intoxicating murmur. “Sorry.”

You blinked, caught off guard. “What?”

“I said I’m sorry, darling. For whatever grievous crime I’ve committed.”

You hesitated, your stubbornness warring with the warmth blooming in your chest. Finally, you sighed. “I’m sorry too.”

A grin split his face, one so radiant it made your chest ache. “See? That wasn’t so hard.”

You scowled, but your lips twitched upward despite your best efforts. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re irresistible.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead, then your nose, then your lips, each touch lingering and soft. When he pulled back, his expression was unbearably smug. “Now, no more couch dramatics. Agreed?”

You rolled your eyes but smiled, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Fine. But only because I’m too tired to fight you anymore.”

“Whatever you need to tell yourself, my love.”

As he settled beside you, his arms pulling you close, you realized the fight didn’t matter. Not when the night ended like this—his warmth surrounding you, his steady heartbeat under your ear, a constant reminder of everything you shared. The silence stretched, comfortable and soothing now, until you finally murmured, “I’m still mad about the leathers.”

Rhysand chuckled, his chest vibrating beneath your cheek. “Noted. I’ll make sure they’re spotless tomorrow. Anything else, my high-maintenance darling?”

“Just one thing,” you muttered, your lips curving into a sly smile. “Next time, I’m throwing you onto the couch.”

“Bold words,” he teased, pressing another kiss to your hair. “But we’ll see about that.”

[caitified]

Ok so cute story idea. Caitlin and reader have been dating for a while but reader is just really cuddly like she’s just loves hugging and cuddling with Caitlin any chance she gets she basically a sloth. Caitlin just finds it so funny but absolutely loves it

SLOTH MODE

CAITLIN CLARK X READER

warnings: none. so so so sorry for my absence, i’ve appreciated all of your messages and requests in the meantime. good to be back!

the sound of caitlin’s keys turning in the lock pulled you from your half-asleep state on the couch. you’d been lying there for what felt like hours, waiting for her to come home. when the door finally opened, you sat up a little, rubbing your eyes.

there she was, looking tired but still effortlessly gorgeous. her gym bag hung over one shoulder, and her hair was damp from a quick shower at practice. the faint smell of her shampoo filled the air as she stepped inside, and a soft smile spread across her face when she saw you.

“hey,” she said, her voice warm despite her exhaustion.

you didn’t reply, instead pushing the blanket off and shuffling over to her. as soon as you were close enough, you wrapped your arms around her waist and buried your face in her chest, sighing deeply.

caitlin let out a quiet laugh, dropping her bag by the door so she could hug you properly. “not even a hello? just straight to clinging?”

“hello,” you mumbled into her hoodie, not moving an inch.

“missed me, huh?” she teased, resting her chin lightly on the top of your head.

“obviously,” you muttered, your voice muffled against the soft fabric. “you’ve been gone all day.”

“it’s been, like, seven hours,” she pointed out, though there was no bite to her tone.

“that’s too long,” you said simply, squeezing her a little tighter.

she rolled her eyes, but the smile on her face gave her away. “you’re something else.”

after a moment, she gently pried you off her so she could take off her shoes and jacket, but as soon as she sat down on the couch, you were there again, settling against her side and looping an arm around her waist. she didn’t protest, just chuckled quietly and adjusted so you could get comfortable.

“you’re so clingy,” she said, though her hand found its way to your shoulder, pulling you closer.

“you’re comfy,” you replied without hesitation, resting your head against her.

“i think you just like making sure i can’t move,” she joked, smirking down at you.

you tilted your head up to look at her, a small grin on your face. “maybe.”

she shook her head, her fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns on your arm. “you’re like a sloth, you know? slow-moving and impossible to shake off.”

“a cute sloth,” you corrected, closing your eyes as you sank into her touch.

“the cutest,” she agreed softly, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead.

for a while, neither of you said anything. the tv played quietly in the background, but you weren’t paying attention. caitlin’s arm draped over your shoulders, and the rhythmic rise and fall of her breathing made it hard to stay awake.

“you’re gonna fall asleep on me again, aren’t you?” she asked after a few minutes, glancing down at your half-lidded eyes.

“probably,” you murmured, smiling faintly.

she laughed quietly, her hand moving to brush a strand of hair out of your face. “good thing i don’t mind.”

you hummed in agreement, letting yourself relax completely against her.

as much as caitlin teased you about your constant need for affection, you knew she loved it. she’d never say it outright, but the way her arm stayed firmly around you, the way her fingers ran through your hair without hesitation, told you everything you needed to know.

you’d always been this way—cuddly, affectionate, maybe a little clingy—and caitlin had never once made you feel bad about it. if anything, she seemed to secretly enjoy being the center of your attention, even if she rolled her eyes at your dramatics sometimes.

“you know,” she said after a while, her voice soft, “i think i’d miss this if you ever stopped.”

you opened one eye to look at her, a small smile tugging at your lips. “guess i’ll never stop, then.”

“good,” she said, her lips curving into a smile as she rested her head against yours.

and just like that, the exhaustion from her long day melted away. sure, you were clingy, but you were hers. and she wouldn’t change a thing.

[impishjesters]

Quiet morning together - Jax x Reader

CW(s): suggestive talk, indirect implications towards the two of you being nude but left up to your decision, same goes for any hanky panky the night before, soft fluff A/N: I want to write so many things after these latest episodes but nothing has sparked in my mind and I'm sad... so have this random soft moment together that I've forced myself to write to try and get the creative juices flowing. (I haven't written in so long, I'm so rusty...)

Neither of you has ever been a morning person but unlike a certain someone. You can push through it and get yourself out of bed in a timely fashion.

Except today.

Today is one of those days… Jax’s arms wrapped snugly around you, barely giving you an ounce of space to yourself as his long leg is draped over yours, keeping you trapped in bed. The soft fur from his face tickled your neck as he nuzzled closer, burying his face into the junction of your neck and shoulder. One of his ears flopped over your face like an eye mask.

You don’t have the energy to say anything, nor do you make any attempts to move even if your arm is falling asleep under his lithe form laying on it. This scene has happened enough times for you to know that Jax is awake and doing this on purpose to keep you in bed with him—luckily for him, you have nowhere to be today and no rush to get out of bed.

Despite the tingling in your arm that he’s lying on, you raise your hand far enough to brush your fingers over the nape of his neck. The warmth of his soft fur radiating against your fingertips, it’s something you still don’t understand but you’ve learned not to question it by this point.

A quiet purr makes its way out of Jax as you run your fingers through his fur, your fingers knowing just where to scratch to relax him. And of course, in good Jax fashion, he can’t let you get the one up on him. Jax tightens his hold around your body, pulling you impossibly close like he’s trying to fuse the two of you, and presses the weight of his body halfway onto you.

You let out a quiet grunt at his weight and tangled your fingers in the fur of his nape, giving a brief tug. “Jax…” There’s no venom to your words if anything, his name is just a sigh on your lips and Jax greedily soaks up his name from your mouth.

Jax mumbles your name in response, a soft breathy yawn leaving him right after as he affectionately nuzzles his forehead close to your ear. The leg draped over yours shifts, his calf and ankle hooking around your legs to pull them closer and tangle between his legs.

“How long do you plan on keeping us in bed, cottontail?” You can feel where Jax’s nose would be scrunched up against your skin. Despite his protests of the nickname you can’t help but feel he’s come to like it—at least from you.

The lithe rabbit man lets out a pathetic, dramatic whine right into your ear before responding. “C’mon… who cares if we waste the whole day here? Oh right,” he pauses and feigns a panicked tone. “We’ll miss work! Can’t have a cut in our paycheck, how will we ever survive?!”

Even if he can’t see it, you roll your eyes and pinch his ear. A soft yelp leaves him as he brushes your hand away from his ear and finally looks at you with his usual shit-eating grin. “Oh, right. We don’t need that here.”

His tone is soft and playful, but you can hear the underlying sadness in his voice. You reach up with your free hand and pet the fur on his face in different directions, letting you see his full, unobstructed face—shit-eating grin and all.

Jax lets out a soft hum, accompanied by a faint purr as you brush his fur in place. “Look at that, personal grooming and I didn’t even have to request it.”

His tone was smug as you finished grooming his face, your hand lingered on his cheek as a grin made its way to your lips. “You know most animals only let others that they are close to or trust a lot to groom them.” Jax goes stiff in your hold, refusing you meet your eyes. “So it’s good to know this little bunny trusts me so much to groom him.”

He lets out a soft snort and shoves his face into your chest, rubbing his face left and right as you laugh, chest rising and falling as he tries to undo all your hard work.

“Hey! Now I have to do that all over again, brat.”

You push his head away and manage to slip your arm out from under him, using both hands to keep his head still as you redo all of that hard work brushing his fur neatly.

“Oh, boo hoo.” He says sarcastically, though this time he doesn’t try to stop or impede on your mission of fixing his fur.

At some point the two of you shifted, your hands brushing through the fur of his face to working on the rest of his head and down to his neck and upper chest, taking care of any miraculous tangles that formed through the night. Jax now lies on his side, head propped up with his hand as he stares at you focusing so intently on the fur of his chest. Several dirty jokes bounced around his head but he kept his mouth shut—for once—and simply relaxed under your touch.

Your legs were still tangled with his as you moved alongside him to lay on your side, the blanket slipping down to your hips as you worked. His hand eventually found a home on your hip, keeping the blanket from slipping further but also keeping you in place close to him.

“Any lower and that’s gonna be a whole new “waking up”, toots.”

You don’t have to look at him to know he’s got that smug grin on his face and give the fur on his chest a sudden sharp tug. He hisses and reaches a hand up to pull yours from his chest and holds it. “Ouch, not so rough in the morning.”

“That’s not what you’ve said before.” You grumble softly, already tired of his shenanigans and the two of you haven’t even gotten out of bed.

Jax lets out a musical hum in response as he pulls the two of you closer and guides your head to his rest on his chest. “Touché.”

The two of you lay like that for god knows how long, simply basking in the artificial warmth of one another, your head slowly bobbing against his chest with every unnecessary breath.

[happilyhertale]

Advent Desires – Modern Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader

Summary: You are spending the evening with your friend Aemond. But you are bored while Aemond is absorbed in his book – but you have your ways of getting his attention.

Pairing: Modern Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader

Warnings: Smut; 18+; NSFW; Sex (p in v)

Author’s note: English is my second language, please forgive me if I made any mistakes (:

Word count: 1.4k

Other stories of mine

12 Days of Smuffmas

12 Days of Smuff

The winter evening settles over the city like a soft blanket, muffling the sounds of distant traffic and the occasional hum of wind against the window. Advent candles flicker on the side table, their tiny flames dancing with every shift in the air. Holly leaves are scattered around the room, a festive touch you had insisted on despite Aemond's indifference to holiday decorations.

He sits in the armchair by the window, an oversized wool sweater draped over his sharp frame. A well-worn book rests in his hands, his long fingers absently turning a page as his good eye scans the text. The glow from the nearby string of fairy lights cast soft shadows across his chiseled features, highlighting his sharp jawline and the silver strands of his cropped hair that fell just slightly out of place.

You lie sprawled on the couch, a blanket over your legs, flipping aimlessly through your phone. TikToks and Instagram stories can't hold your attention tonight, and every now and then, you glance over at Aemond, hoping he’d notice you.

He doesn‘t.

"You know," you say, breaking the silence, "it’s not very festive of you to spend Advent reading an old book."

Without looking up, he replies, "It’s not very festive of you to complain about it."

You sigh dramatically, stretching your arms over your head. The hem of your sweater rides up slightly, revealing a sliver of skin that catches his attention, even if he tries to pretend it doesn’t. His eye flickers up for the briefest moment before returning to the page.

"I’m bored," you groan, rolling onto your side to face him.

"Then entertain yourself," Aemond says, though there is a slight smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Sliding off the couch, you pad across the room, stopping just behind his chair. Leaning over, you wrap your arms around his shoulders and rest your chin on his head, breathing in the faint scent of cedarwood and the crispness of the cold that still lingers on him from earlier.

"What are you even reading?" you ask, glancing down at the page.

He tilts the book slightly so you can see the title. The Art of War.

"Seriously?" you ask, incredulous. "That’s what you choose to read during the holidays?"

"Why not?" He closes the book deliberately, setting it down on the armrest. His hands are free now, and you suddenly wish you hadn’t pushed him quite so far. There is a glint in his eye—mischievous, calculating.

"I can think of better ways to spend an evening," you say, straightening up, but before you can move away, Aemond catches your wrist.

"Better ways, hmm?" His voice is low, smooth, and edged with amusement.

His grip is firm but not rough as he tugs you down into his lap. The movement catches you off guard, and you gasp softly, your hands instinctively gripping his shoulders for balance. His smile widens slightly at your reaction, the kind of smile that is more about power than warmth.

"You’re awfully restless tonight," he murmured, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. His fingers linger, tracing a line down to your jaw.

"Maybe I’m just trying to get your attention," you murmur.

"Well, now you have it."

Before you know it, his hand is in your hair, his long fingers interweaving the strands. He tugs gently, just enough to tilt your head back and expose your neck. A spark of heat flares through you, your breath catching as you meet his intense gaze.

"Aemond," you whisper, unsure if it is a warning or a plea.

He leans in closer, his lips brushing the shell of your ear as he speaks. "Still bored?"

The holly leaves on the mantle catches your eye for a brief moment, a festive witness to the sudden shift in the room's energy. The teasing pull of his hand in your hair sends a shiver down your spine, and when his lips ghosted over your jawline, you can't hold back the quiet sigh that escapes you.

The advent candles flicker again, their light throwing soft shadows on the wall. Outside, the wind howles faintly, but in this moment, all you can hear is the sound of his breath mingling with yours as the tension between you grew thicker.

He pulls back slightly, just enough to look at you properly. "Satisfied now, or shall I keep going?"

Your reply is a mix of laughter and a daring smirk, your fingers tightening slightly on his sweater. "What do you think?"

He chuckles softly, the sound low and rich, as his hand tangles deeper into your hair. "I think," he says, his lips brushing yours, "you’d better be careful what you wish for."

You giggle as he leans in again and kisses you. But your giggling dies away as the kiss becomes more passionate. His hands slide to your hips and reposition you until you straddle him. You gasp slightly, your hands slide into his soft hair, pulling gently, drawing a growl from him.

Slowly, he pushes you closer to him, and his hands slide over your ass, guiding your movements. You feel his length pressing against you, only the fabric of his and your sweatpants separating you... but still you feel his cock twitching impatiently. Aemond starts to pull on your sweatpants, “Let's get these out of the way,” he mutters, and you nod eagerly.

You help him, and without much delay, your sweatpants are on the floor. You whimper as Aemond pulls down your sweatpants enough to release his erection. He pumps a few times and you watch his hand slide up and down his twitching length.

“Look how hard you make me... and I just wanted to read a book in peace,“ he mutters, and you bite your lip.

”Somehow I'm not sorry for it,” you whisper a little breathlessly and start grinding your pussy against him.

He growls as he feels how soaked your panties already are.

Your hands slide to the back of his neck as you whimper impatiently again. Aemond pushes your panties aside and lets his fingers slide through your wet slit until he reaches your nerve bundle and leaves circular movements. You moan and move your hips against his fingers.

You move your hips up and down, taking him deeper inside you, and you whimper. His thumb is still rubbing your clit as your hips slam against his. You completely soak his length, your juices dripping onto his balls.

He slides his cock against your opening while continuing to rub your clitoris. Slowly, he pushes upwards, again and again against your opening. Teasing you until the tip of his cock is covered with your juices.

“Gods, you're so wet,” he murmurs a little breathlessly.

“Aemond,” you gasp impatiently, your fingers digging into his neck. And then Aemond thrusts up, feeling your tightness giving way to his length.

He growls, “Fuck,“ as you push your hips down. You moan, your pussy fluttering around his cock, protesting the intrusion.

He leans in and kisses you roughly, while you slide your hand back into his hair, touch the softness and pull on it again. He groans and pulls away from your lips, pressing his face into the curve of your neck and biting you. You cry out as you feel the light sting.

You lean your forehead against his, your panting breaths mixing as he thrusts up, following your movements.

He feels your pussy start to clenches uncontrollably around his length and he grunts, starting to move faster, thrusting deep into you.

Your legs remain wrapped around his hips as you try to take him deeper. Aemond's teeth dig in deeper and you throw your head back and moan without a care in the world. His hips thrust against you, without mercy. Your slick coats his cock, dripping down his tight balls – it was fucking perfect.

“Cum on my cock, babe,” he growls against your skin, and you whimper, slamming your hips down over and over again, while his thumb rubs faster. Your eyes roll back as you come. You scream slightly and Aemond growls as your pussy clenches. Your orgasm triggers his and he covers your clenching walls in white.

Aemond's eye close and his head falls back, your hips still moving up and down, milking his cock. He breathes heavily, just enjoying your movements, until you slowly stop moving.

You lean forward, your face pressed into the hollow of his neck, trying to catch your breath. You smell his scent and kiss his skin gently. His hands glide over your back, caressing you.

“Maybe this was better than reading a book,” he whispers a little breathlessly, and you giggle.

[girl-next-door-writes]

Wrapped In You

Characters: Eddie Munson x reader

Summary: Snowy Hawkins sets the stage for Eddie and his best friend’s Christmas Eve adventure, leading to heartfelt confessions.

Word Count: 1369 words

Prompts: Best friends to lovers. Wearing their clothes.

A/N: This one is for the brilliant @saramelaniemoon and I can honestly say Eddie has been such fun to write.

Snow coated the small town of Hawkins like powdered sugar, the streets lined with twinkling lights and festive wreaths. Christmas was in full swing, and Eddie Munson had somehow convinced you to help him pick out the "perfectly imperfect" Christmas tree for his uncle’s trailer. You’d been best friends for years, ever since Eddie decided you weren’t like the others who shunned him for his love of all things metal and his disdain for conformity. Now, here you were, bundled up in Eddie’s worn denim jacket with the furry lining, trudging through the snow at Hawkins' only Christmas tree lot, which was somehow still open on Christmas Eve.

The air smelled of pine and sap, a mix of freshly cut trees and the faint burn of a fire pit at the lot’s edge. The snow crunched rhythmically under your boots as you stepped around crooked rows of evergreens, each one dusted with sparkling frost under the glow of the overhead lights.

“Eddie,” you called out, your breath puffing like smoke in the crisp winter air. “I can’t feel my toes. Can we please pick a tree that isn’t taller than the trailer?”

Eddie turned around, his unruly curls poking out from beneath a Santa hat he’d adorned just for the occasion. “Sweetheart,” he drawled, dragging the word out like he was savoring it. “You can’t rush art. The Munson Christmas tree must be chosen, not settled for.”

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t fight the smile tugging at your lips. Eddie Munson was a force of nature, even in the dead of winter, and the warmth in your chest had nothing to do with the jacket you were wearing. You stuffed your gloved hands into the too-big pockets, the frayed lining a reminder that this was Eddie’s favourite jacket.

The fact that he’d handed it over without hesitation earlier, when you’d started shivering, made it even harder to ignore the growing ache in your chest—the one that screamed you were hopelessly in love with your best friend.

Eddie let out a dramatic sigh, shaking his head like a disappointed artist. “Fine,” he said, pointing to a tree so lopsided it looked like it had been in a bar fight. “This one speaks to me.”

You laughed, a sound that melted into the winter air, and for a second, the cold didn’t matter at all.

“Oh! Or maybe this one!” He pointed out a tree that looked even more dilapidated than the last.

After much debate and a lot of teasing, Eddie finally found “the one”—a small pine tree that was more branches than needles.

“Perfect,” you say, rolling your eyes as he gesturing dramatically like a proud artist unveiling his masterpiece.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” he replied with a wink, hoisting the tree onto his shoulder with ease.

Back at Eddie’s trailer, you helped him wrestle the tree into the corner of the living room. Wayne was at work, and Eddie had insisted that tonight was “tree night.” It didn’t matter that the two of you were the only ones decorating.

The heater in the corner of the room hummed loudly, fighting off the December chill that seeped through the thin trailer walls. The faint scent of pine mingled with Eddie’s cologne and the unmistakable aroma of old, second-hand furniture. Eddie put on his favourite Christmas album—a rock-infused holiday record you were sure Wayne would grumble about later—and started untangling the multicoloured lights.

“Here, hold this,” Eddie said, thrusting a tangle of lights into your arms with the enthusiasm of someone handing off a live grenade.

You helped him drape the tree in mismatched ornaments, some homemade and others clearly rescued from thrift store bins. Eddie held up a tattered angel with one bent wing, his face alight with mischief.

“Think we can fix her?” he asked.

You grinned, your fingers brushing the delicate figure. “She’s perfect just the way she is.”

Eddie’s gaze lingered on you a moment too long, his brown eyes catching the soft glow of the Christmas lights. For a heartbeat, the only sound was the hum of the heater and the distant croon of a holiday ballad on the stereo. Then he cleared his throat and climbed onto the couch to place the angel atop the tree.

He perched her in place with exaggerated care, as if she might fall apart in his hands. For a moment, you thought about how fitting she was: a little worse for wear but still shining, still loved.

When Eddie hopped back down, his shoulder brushed yours, lingering just a second longer than it needed to. You smiled at him, but he was already untangling another strand of lights, the moment slipping through your fingers like smoke.

Hours later, you found yourself on Eddie’s couch, wrapped in a scratchy but warm blanket while a cheesy Christmas movie flickered on the TV. The heater hummed softly in the corner, filling the trailer with an uneven warmth, and the faint scent of pine from the tree mixed with the sharper tang of Eddie’s cologne. Eddie was sprawled out next to you, his legs stretched across the cushions, one arm draped over the back of the couch like he didn’t have a care in the world.

“Admit it,” he said, nudging your shoulder with his own. “This is the best Christmas Eve you’ve ever had.”

You laughed, leaning your head against the back of the couch. “It’s up there. You make things… fun.”

Eddie’s expression softened, and the teasing glint in his eyes faded into something quieter, more sincere. “You’re the fun one,” he said. “I’m just the weirdo who drags you into my ridiculous schemes.”

“Eddie,” you said, shaking your head. “You’re not a weirdo.”

He smirked, his dimples flashing. “You say that like being weird’s a bad thing.”

You huffed a laugh, but your heart was racing now. His gaze was intense, locking on yours like he was trying to solve a puzzle.

“I mean it,” he said, his voice low and steady. “You make everything better. You always have.”

“Eddie…” Your throat tightened, the weight of his words wrapping around you like the blanket. You weren’t sure if it was the heat of his confession or the way he was looking at you—like you were the only thing that mattered in the world.

He leaned closer, his curls brushing against your cheek. “I’m serious. You’re the best part of my life, and I’ve been trying to tell you that for years, but I’m a coward.”

Your breath caught. “You’re not a coward.”

“I am when it comes to you,” he admitted, his voice cracking just slightly. “You’re my best friend, but… I want more. I’ve wanted more since the day you sat in Garreth’s garage for hours, fixing my amp after that disaster of a gig. You didn’t even complain once—just sat there, rolling your eyes at every bad riff I played.”

You blinked, your heart hammering in your chest. The crackle of the TV, the hum of the Christmas lights—everything else faded, leaving just Eddie and the raw vulnerability in his eyes.

“I want you too,” you whispered, the words trembling on your lips.

Eddie’s face broke into a grin, the kind of smile that could light up even the darkest corners of the trailer. He let out a breathless laugh. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Before you could overthink it, Eddie cupped your face with one hand, his thumb brushing gently against your cheek. He leaned in slowly, giving you all the time in the world to pull away. But you didn’t. Instead, you met him halfway, your lips brushing his in a kiss that was soft and sweet and electric all at once. His lips were warm, slightly chapped, but the kiss was perfect—filling you with a giddy warmth that spread from your chest to your toes.

When you finally pulled back, Eddie rested his forehead against yours, his breath warm against your skin. “Merry Christmas, sweetheart.”

You smiled, your cheeks flushed and your heart racing. Outside, the snow fell softly against the trailer’s windows, but inside, everything was warm and bright. “Merry Christmas, Eddie.”

[fastandcarlos]

Late Night Drives : ̗̀➛ Logan Sargeant

summary: with logan home, you decide to head off on an adventure, allowing the man behind the wheel to lead the way

A smile graces Logan’s face as you make yourself comfortable in the seat beside him, a blanket draped over your body. Despite you insisting that you were warm enough, he still watched you closely, wanting to be absolutely certain that the chill in their air wasn’t disturbing you too much.

A faint chuckle escaped as Logan began to rev the engine of his car, it was nothing compared to the engines that Logan started on his day job, but he still liked to impress you. He could feel your eyes watching him closely, leaning across and pressing a kiss against the side of your head as you rested your head further into the headrest of Logan’s car, admiring the view of him concentrating on what was ahead.

Around your car the sun was starting to set, the stunning shade of orange set the scene for you both perfectly. After a lazy day, you both craved the feeling of fresh air hitting against your body, and so when Logan suggested the two of you head out for a drive for a while, you found yourself unable to say no. Happy to play passenger princess whilst Logan took control of the wheel.

He wasn’t expecting you to agree to his offer, you were sleepy, surprising really when you hadn’t done much, but Logan somehow seemed to sweet talk you. Undeniably, you would agree to do anything as long as it meant that you got to enjoy Logan’s company for a little while longer, unable to bring yourself to separate from him for even a second.

“It’s not fair how one person can look so effortlessly beautiful,” Logan complimented, turning his eyes back to the road ahead of you.

“Don’t start being all adorable now,” you laughed, jabbing your fingertip against his arm, “you’ve been mean to me all day.”

A sigh came from Logan, “are you still bitter about the pancakes?”

“You ate my pancakes, that’s an unforgivable act.”

Logan could only shake his head at your dramatics, whilst he knew you were only joking, admittedly he did feel slightly guilty for stealing your food, and mostly getting a huge satisfaction from enjoying the meal he found on the counter top of the kitchen too.

“In my defence, you just left them there, so I just assumed they were for me.”

“Oh, I see…it’s my fault?! Well, forgive me for leaving my food unattended whilst I go to the toilet,” you cried out, rolling your eyes back at Logan. He was about to put his foot down on the accelerator, only to stop himself.

“Exactly,” Logan plays along, looking at you as if it’s obvious that this has been your fault all along. “You should know by now that when you live with me, the second there’s food around, it’s mine,” he added, chuckling away to himself, feeling your eyes burning a hole against the side of your head.

Once his laughter subsided, Logan reached across and rested his hand against the top of your thigh, squeezing it gently. You were as bad as each other, but you could never stay at mad at him, how could you when he smiled so beautifully across at you?

Together you were well known for your bickering, squabbling like children, but always making up. The feeling of Logan kissing against your cheek was enough for you to know that he was just messing with you, and that he was ready to get going and head off to wherever it was that you wanted to go.

You both put your seatbelts on, Logan winding the window down slightly to let in some fresh air, your fingers pressing play on the car radio before setting off down the road.

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

You weren’t quite sure how long the two of you had been travelling for, but when the car finally came to a stop, a smile crept onto your face as you looked out to realise that Logan had stopped you both by the beach.

“It’s the second-best view I’ve had today,” Logan spoke as he watched the way your eyes narrowed, taking in the beautiful sight before you. Your head shook as you listened to him, glancing in his direction momentarily before taking in the beauty of the beach again.

You take a moment to shuffle in your seat, waking your body back up again. Your hand comes out from underneath the blanket, reaching across and taking Logan’s hand off of the steering wheel and intertwining it in with your own.

His hand is cold, thanks to the cool breeze that came through the window. Summer hadn’t quite arrived yet, but that didn’t stop him from wearing a thin shirt, knowing you always loved to admire the way the material gripped to the muscles on his body.

It was all comfortable between you, you wore smiles, relaxed, and made the most of being able to spend time together.

With the sunset behind you, Logan’s breath was taken away by the view beside him. His heart was racing, his mind still wondering how he ever managed to get so lucky, even after so many years together.

Logan was lost for a moment, until he met your eyes. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you whispered back to him, leaning across and peppering a kiss against his slightly chapped lips.

Outside of your car, the beach was still pretty busy. There were young families running around, dogs chasing anything they could find in the sand, waves smacking against the shoreline. Down by the water you could see a small gap in the sand, there was a dip where someone else must have been sat previously, a gap that looked like it was the perfect size for you and Logan to fit in and spend a bit of time together, being able to shut yourselves off completely from the rest of the world, even just for a few moments.

And as you pondered, it quickly turned out that you were not the only one to do so.

“What are you thinking pretty girl?” Logan asked, intrigued by what had made you smile.

“It’s just lovely down here, isn’t it?” You calmly spoke, unable to tear your eyes away from the scene unfolding in front of you, “our lives our so busy, and yet down here everything just feels so quiet.”

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Logan questioned, usually the two of you were on the same page, and he really hoped you were now too.

You were all too aware that the beach was Logan’s favourite place in the world, the spot where he could relax and forget about everything else. The positives, the negatives, the whispers that always went around the paddock, many of which seemed to revolve around him and the future of his career in formula one.

The nod of your head was all Logan needed to take the keys out of the ignition and climb out of the car, running around the outside of the vehicle.

“Here,” he proudly grinned as he opened up your car door and extended his hand out for you to take a hold of.

“Such a gent,” you teased, making sure that you still had the blanket wrapped around you and your phone securely in your jean pocket before letting Logan help you out of the car. It took a moment for you to wake your legs up, but Logan was happy to stand beside you and give you all the time that you needed.

Once your feet were on the ground, his arm moved to wrap around your waist. “Are you going to be warm enough just taking that down there?”

You hum in reply to Logan, “I’m more concerned about you; will you be warm enough just in that shirt?”

“Of course,” he insisted, “and if I get cold then that just gives me more of a reason to cuddle into you, doesn’t it?”

You couldn’t help but laugh as Logan tickled against your waist, knowing that you would never argue with him. After locking up the car and making sure that the two of you had everything that you’d need, intertwined together you made your way down to the beach, finding the perfect spot.

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

Time ran away from you both as you settled in the dip that you had pointed out to Logan earlier. By now the sun was almost set, the sky was turning darker and darker, but that didn’t seem to bother either of you in the slightest.

The sound of the waves crashing filled those momentary pauses of conversation between you both, providing the perfect backdrop to your evening.

There was plenty going on around you both, but neither of you were paying any attention to it at all. All you wanted was Logan. All Logan wanted was you. It was as if there was an imaginary barrier wrapped around you both, keeping everyone and everything else away.

Your head was resting against Logan’s chest, propped up to try and avoid getting too many grains of sand tangled in your locks. Logan’s hands were all over your body, one on your waist to keep you close by, the other against the top of your head so that Logan could twirl a few strands of your hair around his fingertips whenever he found himself beginning to slip into a bit of a daydream.

“Are you warm enough?” Logan asked as his fingertips brushed against the goosebumps that were beginning to form on your skin. “We can go home if you want, I don’t want you to catch a cold or anything baby.”

“I’m good,” you whispered, trying your best to reassure Logan and stop him from worrying. You try your best to sound convincing, but with the sun now hidden, the coolness of the breeze is beginning to trouble you.

“I can tell when you’re lying,” Logan sniggered, able to read you like a book, arguably knowing you better than you knew yourself.

“Honestly, I’m happy here for a while,” you once again assured.

Logan hummed, although he was far from convinced, running his hand along your arm to try and generate some warmth. “We’ll stay here for a few more minutes, I’ve got something else in mind to finish our evening off, which I know you’ll love.”

“What’s that?” You quizzed, propping yourself up with a hand against Logan’s chest. He shook his head though, refusing to share what his plans were with you.

You tried your best to get his plans out of Logan. Your hands tickled against his tummy, fingers poked against his cheek and his ears, lips pressed several times against his cheeks and his lips, but he still remained silent. It was torment for you not being able to know exactly what was happening next for you both, but for Logan, it brought him a great deal of satisfaction to know that he was irritating you.

“You’ll love it,” he repeated, feeling you press yet another kiss along his jawline. “Do you really think I would ever organise for us to do something you dislike?” He then asked, however with Logan, you never managed to quite know what he had up his sleeve.

Feeling your eyes on him brought another laugh from Logan, especially as you doubted him.

“I’m not as horrible as you think you think I am I’ll have you know.”

“Do you remember the time-“ you began to say, only for Logan to cut you off by tickling your sides. The squeal that escaped from you earnt you a couple of glares from other people around you, but you didn’t care as you tried your hardest to push Logan’s hands off of you before you lost all control.

Unfortunately for you, Logan was far stronger than you, keeping his hands tight on your body as your legs kicked out against him, enjoying having you exactly where he wanted you.

Eventually, after pleading what felt like hundreds of times, Logan finally let you go.

“Come on, let’s get out of here before someone files a noise complaint against us,” Logan suggested, slipping his hand into yours and pulling you up from the comfort of the sand wrapped around your body.

You made sure to keep your blanket nice and tight around your frame as you allowed Logan to lead you back up the sand and towards the car. It was beginning to get quieter as people slipped away after the sun had set, giving you an easy path to the car. Like before, Logan opened up your car door for you, giving you a hand up so you could comfortably slip into the passenger seat, a seat that seemed like it had been moulded for your body given how much time you spent there these days, letting Logan drive you around.

“Are you still planning on keeping this a secret?” You quizzed as Logan impressively revved up his engine once again, nodding his head in response to you as he began to concentrate on safely getting the two of you to his next destination.

He smirked as you groaned, wishing that he wasn’t so secretive with you. “Just trust me my love, I told you that you’d love it, didn’t I?”

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

And love it you did as the two of you sat with your feet on the dashboard, a portion of chips between you both and messy burgers being held in your hands. You had sauce dripping everywhere, half of your fillings were in the footwell of the car, but neither of you cared a bit, simply humming in delight with every mouthful that you took.

You soon realised as Logan drove where he planned on taking you, the burger shack that he was only allowed to indulge in during certain weeks of the year. You promised Logan that you would never eat from there unless he was allowed to too, and with a three week break at your fingertips, he finally had permission. You were bouncing in your seat as soon as you realised where he was heading for, desperate to get your hands on the treat that you had craved for so long.

Beside you, Logan was a lot calmer, but on the inside, he was a bubbling mess just like you.

You’re so lost in your bubble of delight that you’ve almost forgotten Logan beside you. “It’s unfair how one fast food place can make food that tastes so good.”

“They’re still not as nice as the burgers you make,” Logan remarked as he grabbed a napkin, reaching across and dabbing against the corner of your mouth where a bit of sauce was beginning to dribble.

“You don’t have to pretend to be nice to me, we all know that’s not true,” you replied, refusing to let him even make the comparison.

“I think this is the perfect end to the perfect day, what do you think?” Logan quizzed, taking yet another huge bite out of his burger, closing his eyes as he savoured it.

You nodded in agreement, “we should go on some late night drives more often if this is how they’re going to end.”

A chuckle came from Logan, “just don’t tell the team that this is where we ended up.”

“Of course, our evening ended with us going home and making a delicious, nutritious chicken salad for our dinner.”

Over the years you seemed to have perfected your ability to lie, the ability to save Logan from getting into trouble with his bosses by pretending to agree with anything that he had to say.

“And obviously whilst we were at the beach you were doing some sort of workout to make sure that you’re in perfect shape for after the break.”

“I like your thinking,” Logan chuckled, admiring how well you knew what you had to do.

“See, not just a pretty face.”

No, you were far from just that in Logan’s eyes.

“Thank you for such a lovely evening babe.”

Logan simply smiled back at you, your eyes were bright with colour, and most of all he knew that your heart was full of happiness after spending your day with him.

“Don’t be silly, it should be me thanking you.”

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[byhees]

pillow barriers between your bodies.

엔하이픈 ・ female reader + word count 500 genre fluff established relationship non-idol au warnings not proof-read pet-names skinship — more

a/n. requested— plagiarism notice

heeseung would be so confused; had he done something wrong? were you, perhaps, upset with him? a million thoughts would be circling his mind. stretching an arm over to lightly tap you on the shoulder, finding the fluffy pillow a major annoyance. “you okay, babe?” he’d ask with such a soft voice, thoughts of dozing off dissipating into the air. might actually buy your acting, and gently yank the pillow out the way, closing the space between your bodies; after about three minutes of hugging, he’d fall into the depths of slumber, face buried in your embrace, soft snores falling from his mouth…

jay would be far too tired to question your actions— he just wants his late-night cuddles, and gentle hair strokes. cheek would be smooshed against the pillow, arm lazily draping over your side. would probably complain a little about how the pillow’s uncomfortably separating you two, and would eventually tuck the soft object at the end of the bed; “this feels so much better,” he���d murmur, eyelids fluttering close…

jake would probably sulk immediately— his offer for snuggles being so rudely rejected in front of him? that’s so not like you. tries to toss the pillow away, but is met, face first, with another one. “no cuddles today?” he’d ask, and his pout would only deepen with your response; you’d eventually give in, leaning in to press a sweet kiss to his cheek. his sulky demeanour would evaporate so quickly, and he’d pull you into a tight hug…

sunghoon would watch the whole thing in silence, and dramatically sigh. musters all his acting knowledge to concoct an expression of mock offence— “and i thought i was your favourite cuddle buddy”. would playfully snatch the pillow away, and draw you close in his embrace, hands finding recluse in tracing faint shapes on your skin; “i’m reclaiming my rightful spot”. holds you close to him the whole night…

sunoo would instantly gawk at you, wide eyed and everything; is probably subtly sarcastic as he quips about how he’s been ‘replaced’. would try and shift the pillow away, little by little, but immediately feigns cluelessness when you look up at him and point it out. at one point, he’d simply just wrap his arms around both you and the pillow, sandwiching the rectangle of fluff between your bodies…

jungwon would immediately, and i repeat, immediately, get worried; wonders if anything has happened, and offers a listening ear. pulls the pillow away, and embraces you in a back hug, indirectly spooning you in the process; “everything alright, angel?” would pout in response after hearing about your little scheme. ends up falling asleep a few moments after, a little content smile lightly tugging on the corners of his lips...

riki would be teasing you so much; the room would be a little bit dim, and he’d just be playfully smiling. gradually scoots closer to you under the guise of feeling cold from the small, shared blanket. swiftly pulls the pillow out the way, and nuzzles himself close to you; “i think this arrangement suits us better. what do you think, love?” would slide an arm around your waist, and fall asleep to the lullaby of your hushed laughter…

taglist open! @halcyoni-ki @wondipity @yjjungwon @shysakuno @niktwazny303 @crxzs @g4m3girl @minhosify @haechansbbg @yeomha @stepout-09-15 @chansburgah @sona-verse01 networks! @kflixnet @enhanet @k-labels

[atinyslittleworld]

The Next Morning

maknaeline x f!reader

Genre: humour, explicit, fluff

Warnings: MDNI 18+

a/n: i saw a couple of you when you read drunkteez were interested in seeing the boys' reactions the next morning and thay said, so here it is, enjoy xx

San

Y/N stretched and yawned, feeling the warmth of the bed as she slowly woke up. Beside her, San was still asleep, his arm draped lazily over his forehead, a faint smile playing on his lips.

She couldn’t help but chuckle at the memory of last night. He had been so drunk, so earnest, and so utterly ridiculous. She had lost count of how many times he’d repeated his desires, his words slurring more with each attempt. She shook her head, already planning how she was going to tease him about it.

Slipping out of bed, Y/N padded quietly to the kitchen, starting a pot of coffee. The rich aroma filled the apartment, and soon enough, she heard the soft rustling of sheets as San began to stir. Moments later, he appeared in the doorway, looking adorably disheveled with his hair sticking up in all directions.

“Morning,” he mumbled, rubbing his eyes as he shuffled over to her. He wrapped his arms around her waist from behind, resting his chin on her shoulder. “What time is it?”

“Late enough,” Y/N teased, pouring two cups of coffee. She handed him one, a playful smile tugging at her lips. “Feeling okay?”

San groaned, taking a sip of his coffee. “My head is killing me. How much did I drink?”

“Enough to make some pretty bold declarations,” Y/N replied, turning in his arms to face him. She couldn’t resist any longer. “Do you remember what you said last night?”

San blinked, a frown creasing his brow as he tried to recall. “Uh… no? What did I say?”

Y/N bit her lip, trying to keep a straight face. “You were very insistent about a few things. You told me that all you wanted in life was to have a good time, that you wanted me, and…” She paused for dramatic effect, watching his expression. “That you wanted your dick sucked.”

San froze, his eyes widening in horror as the words registered. “I… I said that?”

Y/N nodded, barely containing her laughter. “Multiple times, actually. You even started listing the different ways you like it.”

San groaned, burying his face in his hands. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry. I was so drunk…”

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh at his reaction. She reached up, pulling his hands away from his face so she could see him. “San, it’s okay. It was actually pretty funny.”

He sighed, his cheeks still flushed with embarrassment. “I didn’t mean to be so… blunt.”

“Well, maybe not in those exact words, but…” Y/N paused, looking up at him with a softer expression. “Is it true, though? I mean, you said you wanted me, in all the ways.”

San looked down at her, his gaze suddenly more serious. He took a deep breath, nodding slowly. “Yeah, it’s true. I do want you, Y/N. In every way. I want to be with you, and… well, I wasn’t lying about how good you are at, uh, you know…”

Y/N smiled, feeling a warmth spread through her chest at his sincerity. She reached up, brushing a strand of hair out of his face. “You could have just said that, you know. I didn’t need the drunken confession.”

San laughed, the tension easing out of him. “Yeah, well, I guess I have a way with words when I’m drunk.”

“Apparently,” Y/N teased, leaning in to kiss him softly. “But just so you know, you don’t need to be drunk to tell me what you want.”

San smiled against her lips, pulling her closer. “Good to know. But, um, just for the record… you are really good at it.”

Y/N laughed, shaking her head as she kissed him again. “Noted. Now, how about we have some breakfast before you embarrass yourself even more?”

San grinned, his embarrassment melting away as he followed her to the kitchen. “Sounds like a plan. But, Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“Maybe later… we can revisit that conversation?”

Y/N rolled her eyes playfully, but the smile on her face said it all. “We’ll see, Casanova. We’ll see.”

Mingi

Mingi was sprawled out next to Y/N, his face buried in the pillow, snoring softly.

Y/N smiled, the memory of his drunken confession replaying in her mind. She knew he wouldn’t remember a thing, and the thought of telling him made her giggle to herself.

A few minutes later, Mingi began to stir. He groaned, rubbing his face with one hand as he slowly woke up. “Morning,” he mumbled, his voice hoarse with sleep.

“Good morning,” Y/N replied, watching as he blinked groggily at her. She decided to let him wake up a bit more before dropping the bombshell.

After a few minutes of stretching and trying to shake off the remnants of his hangover, Mingi turned to Y/N with a sheepish smile. “I didn’t do anything too embarrassing last night, did I?”

Y/N couldn’t help the grin that spread across her face. “Well, actually, there was one thing…”

Mingi’s eyebrows shot up, a mix of curiosity and concern crossing his features. “Oh no, what did I do?”

She bit her lip, trying to suppress her laughter. “You, um, you told me something very interesting.”

He sat up a little straighter, his interest piqued. “What did I say?”

Y/N took a deep breath, trying to keep a straight face. “You said that you wanted to… rub your dick between my boobs.”

For a moment, there was complete silence. Mingi’s eyes widened, and his face flushed bright red as the words sank in. “I… I did?”

Y/N nodded, biting her lip to keep from bursting into laughter again. “You did. Very seriously, I might add.”

Mingi buried his face in his hands, groaning in embarrassment. “Oh my god, Y/N, I’m so sorry! I can’t believe I said that!”

Y/N reached over, pulling his hands away from his face so she could see him. “It’s okay, really. It was actually kind of hilarious.”

He peeked at her through his fingers, his ears still burning. “But… I mean, that’s not really something you say when you’re drunk, right? Like, that’s… wow.”

Y/N chuckled, squeezing his hand. “Well, it’s something you said when you were drunk. And honestly, I wasn’t offended or anything. It was just funny.”

Mingi finally lowered his hands, though his cheeks were still tinged pink. “I just… how did I never think of that while sober? Like, now that I’m thinking about it, it’s not a bad idea…”

Y/N’s eyes widened, and she laughed, shaking her head. “Mingi, I can’t believe you’re considering this right now.”

He shrugged, a playful smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Hey, just because drunk Mingi said it doesn’t mean it’s a bad idea. Maybe he was onto something.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, still smiling. “Well, we can talk about it later, sober Mingi. Let’s just get some breakfast first.”

Mingi nodded, still grinning as he leaned in to kiss her cheek. “Sounds good. But just so you know… I’m definitely going to remember this idea.”

Y/N laughed, shaking her head as she got out of bed. “I’m sure you will, babe. I’m sure you will.”

Wooyoung

Y/N woke up to the sound of Wooyoung's soft breathing beside her. She smiled, remembering the events of the previous night. His sudden confession had caught her off guard, and she was curious to see if he remembered any of it.

As if on cue, Wooyoung stirred, blinking his eyes open. He groaned, pressing a hand to his forehead. "What happened last night?" he mumbled, his voice thick with sleep.

Y/N chuckled softly, rolling over to face him. "You had a good time with the boys, that's for sure. How are you feeling?"

"Like I got punched repeatedly," he admitted, wincing. "Did I do anything embarrassing?"

Y/N bit her lip to hold back a laugh. "Oh, you could say that," she replied, her eyes twinkling with amusement.

Wooyoung's brow furrowed in confusion. "What did I do?"

"Well," Y/N began, sitting up and leaning on her elbow, "you came home pretty drunk, which is fine. But then, you started telling me all sorts of things."

He looked at her with wide eyes. "Like what?"

Y/N grinned, unable to keep the laughter from her voice. "You told me I was pretty, which was sweet. But then... you asked me to tie you up."

Wooyoung froze, his eyes going wide as he processed her words. "Wait, what?" he stammered, his face flushing red. "I asked you to do what?"

"You asked me to tie you up during sex," Y/N repeated, barely holding back her laughter at his mortified expression. "You said you thought it would be fun and that you think about it all the time."

He buried his face in his hands, groaning in embarrassment. "Oh my God, I can't believe I said that. I don’t even remember! Did I really say that?"

Y/N nodded, still chuckling. "You were very serious about it too. You even made me promise not to forget."

Wooyoung peeked at her through his fingers, his face still flushed. "And... what did you say?"

"I said we’d talk about it in the morning when you were sober," she replied, smiling warmly. "So, here we are."

He flopped back onto the bed, staring at the ceiling in disbelief. "I’m never drinking again," he muttered.

Y/N laughed and leaned down to kiss his forehead. "It’s okay, Wooyoung. We can just forget about it if you want."

Wooyoung hesitated, then looked at her thoughtfully. "I mean, maybe we don’t have to forget about it," he said slowly, surprising both himself and Y/N. "I mean, if you’re okay with it, we could… explore it. But only if you’re comfortable."

Y/N's eyes softened at his honesty. "We can talk more about it when you're feeling better," she said gently. "There’s no rush, and we don’t have to do anything you’re not ready for."

Wooyoung nodded, grateful for her understanding. "Thanks, Y/N. I’m glad you’re the one I blurted that out to."

She smiled, lying back down beside him. "I’m glad too. Now, how about we get some breakfast and forget about last night for a little while?"

He sighed in relief, snuggling closer to her. "Sounds perfect. But Y/N?"

"Yeah?"

"Please don’t tell the boys."

She burst out laughing, her laughter filling the room as Wooyoung hid his face in her shoulder, groaning in mock despair.

Jongho

The next morning, Y/N woke up to the soft rays of sunlight filtering through the curtains. She stretched lazily, feeling the empty space beside her in bed. Jongho must have gotten up early, she thought. As she rubbed the sleep from her eyes, the events of the previous night came flooding back, making her chuckle.

She got out of bed and padded into the kitchen, where she found Jongho standing by the stove, humming softly as he cooked breakfast. He looked surprisingly refreshed despite the amount of alcohol he had consumed the night before. His hair was slightly tousled, and he was wearing a loose-fitting t-shirt and sweatpants, looking every bit the picture of domestic bliss.

“Good morning,” Y/N greeted, sliding her arms around his waist from behind and resting her head on his back.

Jongho turned his head slightly, smiling as he placed a hand over hers. “Morning, babe. Did you sleep well?”

“Like a rock,” she replied, her voice still tinged with amusement. “How about you? Feeling okay after last night?”

Jongho laughed, a bit sheepish. “Yeah, I’m good. I don’t usually drink that much, but the guys were in a celebratory mood, and… well, you know how it goes.”

Y/N nodded, remembering his drunken antics all too well. She decided to tease him a little, knowing he wouldn’t remember everything. “You were pretty funny last night, you know.”

“Was I?” Jongho asked, flipping a pancake onto a plate. “What did I do?”

“Oh, you know… just the usual drunken storytelling, laughing at Seonghwa trying to dance on tables, Hongjoong’s singing,” she began, her tone casual. “And then, there was that one thing you said… right before I went to the bathroom.”

Jongho furrowed his brows, turning around to face her, clearly trying to recall the moment. “What did I say?”

Y/N bit her lip, holding back a grin. “You said, very seriously, that one night, during sex, when I’m in doggy, you want to spank my ass.”

Jongho’s eyes widened in shock, his face flushing bright red. “I… I said that?”

“You did,” she confirmed, unable to contain her laughter as she watched his mortified expression. “And you were very sincere about it, too.”

Jongho groaned. “Oh my god, Y/N, I’m so sorry. I can’t believe I said that out loud.”

Y/N stepped closer, placing a hand on his arm, her laughter subsiding into a warm smile. “Hey, it’s okay. It was kind of adorable, honestly.”

He peeked at her through his fingers, still embarrassed. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable or anything.”

“You didn’t,” she assured him. “In fact, I think it’s cute that you’re comfortable enough to say stuff like that, even when you’re tipsy.”

Jongho sighed, finally lowering his hands. “Well, if I’m being honest… I do like your ass a lot,” he admitted, his voice quieter now, though there was a hint of a smile on his lips.

Y/N’s heart swelled at his bashful confession. She reached up to cup his cheek, pulling him down for a soft kiss. “I’m glad you like it,” she murmured against his lips.

He kissed her back, his arms encircling her waist. “I love everything about you, Y/N. Even when I’m being a drunken idiot.”

“And I love you,” she replied, her voice full of affection. “Even when you say silly things.”

Jongho chuckled, pulling her closer. “I’ll try to keep my confessions a little less… colorful next time.”

“Don’t worry,” Y/N teased, resting her head on his shoulder. “I kind of like it when you’re honest, even if it’s a little embarrassing.”

They stood there for a moment, wrapped up in each other, before Jongho finally spoke. “So, about that breakfast…”

Y/N laughed, letting him go. “Let’s eat, and maybe we can revisit that conversation later, when you’re not so mortified.”

Jongho grinned, his embarrassment fading into warmth. “Deal.”

[mattsobvimyfav]

neighbor (matthew sturniolo)

pt 9-

WARNING- SMUT

The next morning, sunlight streamed through the curtains, and I groaned, burying my face deeper into Matt’s chest to escape it. The faint sound of shouting from downstairs made my eyes flutter open, and I quickly realized the noise wasn’t part of some dream.

“Do you hear that?” I mumbled, my voice raspy from sleep.

Matt stirred beside me, his arm still draped over my waist. “Yeah…” he grumbled, rubbing his eyes. “What the hell is going on?”

The yelling got louder, followed by the sound of something clattering onto the floor.

We both sat up in unison, exchanging a look before scrambling out of bed. I slipped on a pair of shorts and pulled my hair into a messy bun, not bothering to make myself look remotely presentable as Matt tugged on a shirt. Together, we hurried downstairs, the chaos growing louder with each step.

When we reached the kitchen, the scene before us was… something. Charlie stood by the stove, trying to salvage a plate of scrambled eggs while Chris frantically waved a towel at Nick, who was hopping around and holding his arm. A streak of bacon grease was smeared across his shirt, and he was cursing loudly.

“What the hell is going on?” Matt demanded, his voice cutting through the chaos.

Nick turned to us, his expression caught somewhere between pain and disbelief. “Your brother,” he said, jabbing a finger at Chris, “is a menace! He spilled bacon grease on me!”

“It was an accident!” Chris shot back, still flailing the towel in Nick’s direction. “You shouldn’t have been standing so close!”

“Why were you even cooking bacon in the first place?” Matt asked, clearly trying to suppress a laugh.

Charlie turned around, holding up a plate piled high with pancakes and a sheepish grin on her face. “We were trying to make you guys breakfast,” she explained. “You know, as a congrats for finally getting along and not killing each other.”

I blinked at her, my heart melting a little despite the absolute disaster around us. “That’s… really sweet,” I said, stepping forward and taking the plate from her. “But also very chaotic.”

“It was going fine until he”—Nick pointed at Chris again—“decided to reenact some Gordon Ramsay move and flipped the pan too hard.”

Chris rolled his eyes. “I wasn’t trying to flip it hard, it just—”

“Can we focus on the fact that I’M IN PAIN?” Nick interrupted dramatically, holding out his arm for effect.

I handed the plate of pancakes to Matt and grabbed Nick’s wrist, inspecting the red mark where the grease had landed. “You’re fine,” I said with a smirk. “You’ll survive.”

Matt was already diving into the pancakes, grinning as he spoke. “Thanks for the breakfast. Totally worth the drama.”

Charlie beamed, looking proud of herself despite the mess. “You’re welcome.”

I glanced back at Chris, who was now trying to mop up the spilled grease on the floor, and couldn’t help but laugh. “Okay, but next time, maybe just stick to cereal. Deal?”

“Deal,” they all said in unison, Nick grumbling a bit louder than the rest.

Matt and I settled at the table as the rest of the group finished cleaning up. Despite the chaotic start, it felt like a perfect morning—messy, loud, and full of the people I cared about most.

After breakfast, Matt and I decided to retreat back upstairs. I was still full from the feast, and craving some quiet time. The moment we stepped into my room, Matt shut the door behind us and smirked, his eyes glinting with mischief.

“Finally,” he muttered, climbing onto the bed and hovering over me.

I barely had time to catch my breath before his lips were on my neck, trailing soft, slow kisses along the sensitive skin. A quiet moan escaped my lips, and I felt his smile against my skin. His hands slid under the hem of my shirt, teasingly grazing my waist as he kissed lower, sending shivers through my whole body.

Just as his lips reached my collarbone, the door burst open.

“Hey, have you seen my jean shorts?” Charlie asked casually, stepping inside without so much as a glance at us.

Matt groaned loudly, rolling off me and flopping onto his back. “Are you fucking kidding me?” he muttered, rubbing his hands down his face in frustration.

Completely unbothered by the tension in the room, Charlie rifled through a pile of clothes near my dresser. “They were here yesterday. I need them. We’re all going out, by the way, so Matt, you need to go home and get ready. We’re leaving in an hour.”

Matt shot me a look, his jaw tightening as he sat up. “Awesome,” he said dryly, pushing himself off the bed. He grabbed his shoes, muttering under his breath, “Perfect timing, as always.”

“Thanks, Charlie,” I said sarcastically as she left the room, holding up her shorts triumphantly.

“Oh, found them! - What?” she said, raising a brow. “It’s not my fault you two were in the middle of fucking.”

As the door shut behind her, I turned to Matt, who was now running a hand through his hair, clearly trying to calm down. “I’m gonna kill her,” I muttered, crossing my arms.

Matt leaned down, brushing a kiss to my forehead. “Save some of that anger for later,” he said with a wink. “I’ll see you in an hour.” Then, with one last glare toward the door Charlie had just exited, he walked out.

I flopped back onto the bed with a frustrated groan, already planning my revenge on Charlie for being the ultimate cock blocker.

After Matt left, I eventually pushed myself up, determined to focus on getting ready for the day.

First, I headed to the bathroom and turned on the shower, letting the room fill with steam. Stepping under the hot water, I felt the tension in my body start to melt away. I washed my hair with my favorite shampoo, the scent of vanilla and coconut filling the small space. After rinsing out the suds, I massaged the conditioner into my ends, leaving it to soak while I lathered up with body wash.

Once I stepped out of the shower, I wrapped myself in a plush towel and padded back to my room. Sitting at my vanity, I carefully went through my skincare routine. I cleansed, toned, and layered on moisturizer before gently dabbing under my eyes with cream. A quick spritz of hydrating mist finished the routine, leaving my skin glowing.

I brushed out my damp hair, deciding to leave it natural for the day. Slightly damp but drying quickly in the warm air. Satisfied, I moved to my closet to pick out an outfit.

After a few minutes of deliberation, I settled on a white flowing crop top with delicate ruffled edges. It tied at the front, leaving just enough skin exposed to feel sexy but still casual. I paired it with light-washed high-waisted loose jean shorts that hit right below my ass cheek, adding a touch of effortless style. For shoes, I opted for my high-top platform Converse, I wanted to look good for Matt.

I stood in front of the mirror for a final once-over. Grabbing my phone and a small crossbody bag, I headed downstairs, ready to see what they decided on doing today.

The doorbell rang, followed by the familiar chatter of voices, signaling the boys were here. I walked to the door and opened it to find Matt, Chris, and Nick standing there, all grinning like they were up to something. Matt’s eyes flicked to me, his eyes trailing my body as he took in my outfit.

“Hello Sweetheart,” he said, his voice low, but there was a warmth there that made my chest flutter.

“Let’s go fuck!,” I replied, whispering it in his ear.

“Cant-” He started but then was abruptly cut off.

Nick clapped his hands together as he looked around. “Alright, Y/N, here’s the deal. We’re filming a car video for the channel first. We are gonna drive around the streets of LA and do a Q&A, you know the drill. Then, we’ll decide what to do for the day and make it a vlog for everyone’s channels. We’ve been slacking on content, all of us.”

I raised an eyebrow. “A car video? Do I get to participate, or am I just sitting in the back awkwardly?”

“You’re in,” Chris said, slinging an arm around my shoulders. “You’ll be the wildcard. You always throw us off with your answers.”

I laughed, shrugging him off. “Fine.”

Nick turned to Matt. "Y/N get the front, and me, Chris, and Charlie will cram in the back."

I glanced at Matt, who smirked and shrugged. “Guess that’s settled, then.”

“You okay with that?” Chris asked, already heading toward the door.

“Yeah, fine by me,” I said, grabbing my phone and following them out. Matt gave me a little nudge on the way, his hand brushing against the small of my back.

We piled into Matt’s car, and true to Nick’s decree, I climbed into the front passenger seat while the other three squeezed into the back. Nick was already pulling out his camera to set up on the dashboard.

"Ok bitches," Nick said, angling the lens. “Matt, start driving. Y/N, you’re co-hosting this disaster with me.”

Matt chuckled, turning on the car. “You sure you want that? She might hijack the whole thing.”

"Exactly why she's co-hosting," Nick retorted.

As we pulled out of the driveway, Nick launched into his intro. “What’s up, everyone? We’re back with another car Q&A with questions from no other than you guys! But this time we are driving to a destination you will see in our next vlog, also we’ve got Y/N riding shotgun to keep Matt in check.”

“Not possible,” I joked, leaning back in my seat. “But I’ll do my best.”

“Alright, first fan question and I’ll ask Y/N, who’s more annoying when drunk, Matt or Chris?” Charlie asked, leaning over the seat to get in my face.

“Chris,” I answered without hesitation.

“Hey!” Chris protested.

“Sorry, but you’re like a toddler with unlimited energy,” I teased.

As the car Q&A began to heat up, the questions naturally shifted to some more personal topics. Nick, always the instigator, decided to dive into the juicier ones submitted by fans.

“Alright, this one’s for Charlie and Chris,” Nick announced, leaning forward from the very backseat of the minivan. “What’s your favorite thing about each other?”

Charlie blushed immediately, hiding her face behind her hands. “Why would you pick that one?”

“Because it’s adorable,” Nick replied. “Now, answer it.”

Chris didn’t miss a beat. “Her laugh. Hands down. It’s so fucking contagious and it makes me want to make her laugh all the time.”

“Aww,” everyone chorused, with Nick pretending to wipe a tear.

Charlie peeked up from her hands, still blushing. “Fine. My favorite thing about Chris is how he always knows when I need him. Like, no matter what’s going on, he’s always there, even when I don’t ask.”

The car erupted in more exaggerated "aww"s, with Matt rolling his eyes but smirking at the sweetness.

“Alright, moving on before we all throw up,” Nick teased. “This one’s for Matt and Y/N: What’s the best thing about spending time together?”

Matt’s hands tightened slightly on the steering wheel, but he stayed composed. “She makes everything more fun,” he said simply, glancing at me with a small smile.

I felt my cheeks heat up but managed to reply. “Matt’s... surprisingly thoughtful. Like, he pretends he’s all tough, but he’s got a big heart. He notices little things and makes you feel like you matter.”

The car went silent for a beat before Nick broke it with a loud, fake sniffle. “Look at you two, being all sweet. Love that for you.”

“Next question,” Matt grumbled, though his smirk gave him away.

Nick cleared his throat dramatically. “Okay, okay, serious question: Are you two actually dating, or is this just a fling?”

The air grew a little tense, but I laughed it off. “Who even submitted that? It’s none of their business.”

“True,” Nick agreed. “But for the record, you two act like an old married couple, so…”

Matt chuckled, shaking his head. “No comment.”

Chris leaned forward, chiming in. “Someone asked if Y/N only hangs out with Matt because he’s famous.”

The car fell silent for a moment, and I felt Matt tense beside me. “That’s stupid,” I said sharply. “I’ve known them since highschool… fame has nothing to do with it. Plus Charlie and I are pretty fucking famous ourselves, thank you very much.”

“Yeah, they are pretty fucking famous themselves!,” Matt added, his voice a pitch higher in mockery. 

The atmosphere lightened a little after that, but the questions kept rolling. Nick read another one, his grin widening. “Okay, back to the fun stuff: Charlie and Chris, who’s the better cook?”

The couple immediately started bickering, with Charlie insisting it was her and Chris arguing that his waffles were superior.

We wrapped up the video about thirty minutes later, filming enough content and answering enough questions for both our channels. 

“Oh shit,” Matt huffs. 

I turn my head over to him and hum in question. “Whats wrong?”

“We forgot to film an outro. Let me pull over and I can yell into the camera or something.” he sighs, flicking on his signal to turn into a small plaza parking lot. 

I nod, grabbing the camera from the dashboard and preparing it to film again when an idea hits me. 

“Hey, Matt?” I ask, playing with the settings on the camera. 

“Yeah, sweetheart?” 

“Remember how you used to kiss the camera goodbye at the end of videos?” I ask casually, clicking out the LCD screen and pressing record. 

“Yes?,” he ask confused as he puts the car in park and turns to look at me.

My grin widens as I lift the camera up, placing it on my forehead to face him almost as if it was a gopro. “Feeling nostalgic?” I giggle.

Matt laughs, looking between my lips and the camera before leaning in, one of his hands coming up to cup my cheek as our lips collide in a lighthearted and playful kiss. The both of us laugh into the kiss before Matt pulls back, looking directly into the camera then letting out a high pitched scream that left the lens foggy and humid. 

He brings his free hand up to the camera and presses the off button, gently grabbing it from my hands and putting it on the dashboard again. 

“How was that for nostalgic?” he whispers, face still close to mine. 

I laugh, pushing his forehead with my palm. “I’ve seen better,” 

“Oh really?” he gasps in faux offense. 

“Truly,” I nod sarcastically. 

“Yeah alright, sweetheart. We’ll see if you still think that later tonight.” he smirks, starting the car again and putting it back into drive. 

“Are yall done??” Nick butts in from the backseat but quickly interrupts himself with another thought. “You know what I could really go for right now? Some fucking bowling.”

“Bowling?” Matt asked, raising an eyebrow, pulling out of the parking lot and back onto the main road.

“Yep,” Nick confirmed. “Losers do something embarrassing. Y/N, you in?”

“Oh, I’m definitely in,” I said, grinning. “But you’re all going down.”

“Big talk for someone who barely knows the rules,” Matt teased, pulling back into the driveway.

“...I didn’t even know there were rules. That’s gonna be really embarrassing when you loose to someone who didn’t even know that much.” I shot back, earning a chuckle from him as we parked.

We all piled out of the car, the sun bright and warm as we joked and bickered our way into the bowling alley. I grabbed my camera from my bag, flipping it on to capture the camaraderie. “Alright, everyone, say hi to the vlog!” I said, pointing the lens toward the group.

Nick leaned in, throwing up a peace sign. “What’s up, Y/N and Charlie’s channel? Prepare to witness greatness.”

“You mean prepare to witness you eating my ass?” Chris chimed in, smirking.

Charlie elbowed him, giggling. “Oh, please. You’re all going down. Y/N and I are going to be a power duo.”

“Hey so Charlie , there aren’t any teams in bowling hope this helps.” I deadpan over to her as she looks at me without a single thought behind her eyes.

I turned the camera to Matt, who stood casually, arms crossed and a slight smirk on his face. “Got any words of wisdom for the vlog?” I asked as Matt opened the front door for me.

He leaned closer, his voice low and teasing. “Just make sure to capture my victory in 4K.”

“Oh, I will,” I shot back with a laugh, spinning the camera around to capture my triumphant grin.

We picked out shoes and debated over bowling balls, the smack talk already in full swing. “You know what they say,” Matt teased as he lined up his first shot, “Fuck bitches, get money, and go bowling.”

“Very funny,” I deadpanned, nudging him aside. “The only bitch you're gettin’ is bout to wipe the floor with your big ass cranium so step aside.” 

The game quickly turned competitive. Chris bowled a strike early on, and Charlie cheered so loudly the entire alley turned to look. “That’s my man!” she yelled, giving him an exaggerated high-five.

Nick, on the other hand, couldn’t stop laughing at his own gutter balls. “Maybe I should stick to bed rotting” he muttered after his third miss.

Matt was surprisingly good, earning strikes and spares with ease, but he wasn’t prepared for me. My first few rolls were mediocre at best, but by the halfway point, I’d found my groove. I bowled strike after strike, much to everyone’s shock—and my delight.

“You’ve been hustling us this whole time,” Matt accused, his eyes narrowing playfully.

“Maybe,” I said with a smirk, lining up my next shot. I rolled the ball down the lane and watched as all the pins clattered down. “Boom!” I spun around, throwing my arms up in victory. “What’s that? My balls in Matt’s mouth? Yeah that’s what I thought.”

Charlie laughed, leaning against Chris. “Yeah, clock that. We all know who wears the pants in that…” she pauses, looking between Matt and me multiple times before resuming. “Relationship?...” she cringes at the word.

 “Friendship!” she tries again, but grimices before giving up. “Fuck it. Only god knows what's going on between those whores…”

“Oh! okay!” I sang. “That's strike two! Not in bowling! You’re on thin ice!”

By the final frame, it was clear I was the winner. Matt groaned dramatically, rubbing his temples. “How is this fair? I was robbed.”

“Skill, my dear Matthew,” I said, patting his shoulder as I picked up the camera. “Let’s hear it for the champion!”

Chris clapped slowly, a grin tugging at his lips. “Alright, I’ll admit it—she earned it. Barely.”

“Barely?” I scoffed. “I crushed all of you.”

As we wrapped up and headed for the exit, Matt walked beside me, shaking his head. “I can’t believe you beat me.”

I glanced up at him, smiling. “You’ll live. Maybe next time you’ll step up your game.”

He chuckled, his hand brushing against mine. “We’ll see about that.”

Back in the car, I turned the camera back on, catching everyone’s tired but happy faces. “How does it feel to get your ass wiped by me?” I asked, spinning the camera toward Matt.

“Ha. Ha. Ha.” he looks at me with a straight face. 

Nick groaned from the back seat, leaning his head against the window. "Okay, okay. I lost. What’s my punishment?"

A wicked grin spread across my face as I turned the camera toward him. “Oh, don’t worry, Nick. We’ve got something special for you.”

“Be gentle,” he pleaded, his voice dripping with fake sorrow.

As soon as we got back to the house, we all piled inside, still buzzing from the night. I set the camera up on the kitchen counter, making sure it was angled perfectly to catch whatever ridiculous punishment we came up with.

Charlie clapped her hands together. “Alright, Nick. Since you came in dead last, your punishment is…” She paused for dramatic effect, looking at Chris. “Chris, what do you think?”

Chris smirked, clearly enjoying this a little too much. “I think Nick should have to walk through target in Y/N’s outfits.”

Nick’s face fell when Chris suggested he do his next punishment at Target. “Wait, you’re not serious,” he said, staring at me wide-eyed.

“Oh, I’m dead serious,” He replied, grinning. “You’ve got to wear the outfit I gave you all around Target. Just imagine the looks you'll get!”

Charlie, Me, and Matt were all snickering, clearly on board with the idea.

Nick’s eyes darted from one person to another, and his shoulders slumped in defeat. “Fine,” he muttered. “I’ll do it. But if I get kicked out of the store, I’m blaming all of you.”

Matt clapped him on the back, trying to suppress his laughter. “Hey, maybe a man twice your age with a mustache will think you look sexy.”

I grabbed my purse, and with everyone ready to go, we piled into the car. The entire ride to Target was filled with Nick grumbling about how he couldn’t believe he was about to make a fool of himself in public.

Once we arrived, we entered the store, with Nick wearing the bright pink skirt and crop top. His outfit drew stares from everyone, but he strutted confidently, as if he were walking the runway. People whispered and giggled, some even pointing, but Nick refused to back down. He just kept pushing forward, determined to complete the mission.

I pulled out my camera, filming everything. “Okay Rupaul Dragrace” I teased, capturing him on camera as he tried to act casual while pushing a cart through the aisles.

Nick shot me a look, his face flushed from embarrassment, but he held his head high. “You guys are so cruel.”

Charlie leaned into me, laughing so hard she nearly tripped over her own feet. “Bitch, this was your idea.”

We made our way through the aisles, stopping at random items just to make Nick pose awkwardly with them. He had to pick up random products and look like he was contemplating them seriously, which only made everything more ridiculous.

“Nick, can you try on the kid’s shoes? They’d go perfectly with your look,” Matt suggested, barely able to keep a straight face.

“Sure, why not?” Nick replied sarcastically. “It’s not like I’m already embarrassed enough.”

He shuffled over to the kids’ section, trying on the smallest pair of sneakers he could find and somehow managing to make it look like he belonged in them. It was absurd, and it was honestly one of the funniest things I’d ever seen.

I couldn’t stop laughing, holding my stomach as I filmed the whole thing. “You’re killing it, Nick. Keep going.”

We spent a good thirty minutes walking around the store, stopping for Nick to pose by random displays, and by the time we were ready to leave, he was still pretending to be unbothered, though we could all tell he was close to snapping.

“You’ve definitely earned your punishment points,” I said as we made our way to the checkout line, trying to stifle my giggles.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m definitely not losing again,” Nick grumbled, tossing his purchases onto the conveyor belt. “But next time, Y/N, I’m picking your punishment.”

“Deal,” I said, unable to stop laughing at the thought.

As we left the store, Nick walked out of Target like a true champ, still wearing the outfit like it was the most normal thing in the world. And even though he was clearly embarrassed, he managed to make it through the entire ordeal without turning into a total wreck.

“You’re a trooper, Nick,” I said, patting him on the back as we got back into the car. “You survived. You’re officially a legend.”

We pulled up to the triplets' house, the evening air cool and crisp as we got out of the car. Charlie and I exchanged a glance, a silent agreement passing between us before we turned to the guys. “Alright, you guys did enough today,” Charlie said with a grin. “We’re cooking dinner tonight. Italian, sound good?”

The triplets looked at each other, their eyes lighting up. “You guys are cooking?” Matt asked, raising an eyebrow. “This should be interesting.”

I smiled, nodding. “Yep, we’re taking over the kitchen. You’re all getting Italian tonight.”

The guys exchanged amused looks, clearly impressed but also a little wary of what we had planned. “Well, we’ll let you take the lead,” Nick said, giving a thumbs-up. “But if we’re eating burnt food, you’re on your own.”

With a laugh, Charlie and I headed inside, excited to work our magic in the kitchen while the guys settled in for the evening.

Charlie and I started preparing the Italian dinner. We decided to cook up some pasta, garlic bread, and a big salad. Charlie was chopping vegetables, while I was stirring the sauce on the stove, trying to perfect the flavor.

“Are you sure I’m not doing too much?” I asked, glancing at Charlie as she set the table.

She shook her head, grinning. “Nope. We’re doing this. It’s our turn to spoil them. Besides, they’ve been doing enough for us lately.”

I smiled, feeling a warmth spread through me. It felt nice, doing something for them. Once the food was ready, we set the table, and the guys came in, looking more than ready to eat.

Matt’s eyes lit up when he saw the pasta. “You guys seriously went all out. This looks amazing.”

“Don’t thank us just yet,” I said. “You have to eat it first.”

We all dug in, and I could see the satisfaction on everyone’s face as they took their first bites. Matt grabbed my hand across the table. “This is seriously the best thing I’ve eaten all week,” he said, his voice low but sincere.

Charlie was laughing as she reached for more garlic bread. “I told you we were good in the kitchen.”

We ate, joked, and laughed together, the room filled with a sense of ease. It felt like we were finally getting a bit of normalcy back after everything that had happened recently.

After dinner, we all sat around, chatting about everything and nothing. Nick, of course, had to make a joke about being the best chef, even though he had nothing to do with the cooking. It was nice to just be together, no drama, just friends and a good meal.

I felt a sense of peace in that moment, surrounded by laughter and warmth, knowing this was exactly where I wanted to be.

After the dinner, Matt gave me a quick tour of the triplets’ house since I’m the only one who’s never actually been there before. He started with Chris’s room, which was in the basement. It had this cool, cozy vibe—dim lighting, a comfy green couch, and walls lined with vintage posters. On his desk he had a little vanity mirror and small makeup bag with wipes for Charlie. Chris clearly liked his space, as it had everything he needed for unwinding after a long day.

We then headed upstairs, where Matt’s room was located. He gave me a playful grin as we walked down the hall. “This is my space,” he said, opening the door to reveal a room with dark colors, a huge king-size bed, and his desk with the streaming set up. I could tell it was Matt’s private sanctuary.

Next, Matt led me upstairs to Nick’s room, which was next to a loft area. Nick’s room was totally different from Matt’s—bright and energetic. The vibe in here was more playful, a perfect reflection of Nick’s personality. "Nick’s room is where all the tech magic happens," Matt joked, and I couldn’t help but smile at how different each of their rooms was.

Finally, we walked back downstairs into the living room and kitchen which I had gotten myself familiar with while cooking dinner. The living room was large and open, with a huge sectional couch and gaming consoles everywhere. The kitchen had modern appliances and an island with bar stools, where we could hang out whenever we wanted. "This is where we come to chill when we’re not annoying each other," Matt said, and I could tell he meant it.

After dinner and the tour, we all lounged around, enjoying each other’s company. The living room was dimly lit, the only light coming from the soft glow of the TV playing some random late-night show none of us were paying attention to. Charlie and Chris were curled up together on one end of the couch, her head resting on his chest while his arm lazily draped over her shoulders. Nick was passed out in the corner, snoring softly with a blanket half-draped over his legs.

And then there was Matt and me.

We were tangled together on the opposite end of the couch, his arm slung around my waist, pulling me snugly against his chest. My head rested on his shoulder, and I could feel the steady rise and fall of his breathing. His warmth, his scent—it was intoxicating.

The quiet murmur of the TV mixed with the occasional whispered laugh from Chris and Charlie, but my focus was entirely on Matt. He shifted slightly, his breath brushing against my ear as he leaned in closer.

“Are you ready?” he whispered, his voice low and rough, sending a shiver down my spine.

“Ready for what?” I murmured back, my heart racing as his fingers lightly trailed down my side.

His lips barely grazed the shell of my ear as he spoke. “To let me take out all that anger I’ve been saving.”

I swallowed hard, heat pooling in my stomach at the weight of his words. My breath hitched when his hand tightened on my waist, pulling me even closer.

“Matt,” I whispered, my voice trembling with a mix of anticipation and nervousness.

He tilted his head slightly, just enough for me to catch the wicked smirk on his lips. “What’s wrong, sweetheart? Not so sure of yourself now?”

I didn’t answer, my mind flashing back to earlier in the car— and what he said.

Matt shifted again, his lips brushing my ear as he whispered, “Let’s see if you still think there’s better.”

The challenge in his voice sent a spark through me, and I couldn’t stop the small gasp that escaped my lips. His fingers grazed my hip, his touch deliberate but teasing, just enough to make me crave more.

I turned my head slightly to meet his gaze, our faces so close I could feel the warmth of his breath. His eyes were dark, filled with an intensity that made my stomach flutter.

“Let’s go,” he murmured, his voice firm but quiet enough that the others wouldn’t hear.

I nodded, barely trusting myself to speak, and he stood up, pulling me with him. Chris and Charlie barely glanced our way, too wrapped up in their own little bubble, and Nick was still blissfully unconscious in the corner.

Matt’s hand slipped to the small of my back as he guided me down the hall, his touch searing through the thin fabric of my shirt. The door to his room clicked shut and locked behind us, and the air between us seemed to crackle with electricity.

He leaned against the door, his smirk returning as his eyes raked over me. “Still think you’ve seen better, sweetheart?”

I swallowed hard, my pulse pounding in my ears. “Maybe,” I said, my voice shaky but laced with challenge. “Why won’t you prove me wrong,”

He chuckled softly, pushing off the door and stepping closer. His smirk deepened as he closed the distance between us, his movements deliberate, like a predator closing in on its prey. My breath hitched as he stopped just inches away, his hands slipping into his pockets, casual but exuding that infuriating confidence.

“You’re sure you ready for that?” he asked, his voice low and rough, each word sending a shiver down my spine. His eyes never left mine, daring me to break first.

I tilted my chin up, trying to hold onto whatever shred of composure I had left. “It’s nothing I haven’t had before,” I said nonchalantly, shrugging.

Matt’s gaze darkened, his smirk softening into something more dangerous, more intoxicating. “I’m not the same guy I was four years ago, sweetheart,” he murmured, his hand lifting to gently tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. His touch lingered, fingers grazing my jaw before trailing down my neck.

“Good. His stroke game was weak. Maybe you’ll finally be able to make me cum now.” I shot back, my words bolder than I felt.

Matt’s eyes widened slightly at my boldness, but the shock melted into a dark, amused grin that made my knees feel like jelly. His hand stilled on my neck, his thumb tracing a deliberate, slow circle against my skin.

“That’s funny,” he said, his voice dropping to a rough, taunting whisper. “Because I remember you begging me to keep going. Said you couldn’t take any more, but there you were, falling apart under me anyway. Oh and how could I forget that giant mess you made all over our sheets that one time. Think I could make you do that again?”

My breath hitched, his words hitting like a physical blow to my pride and composure. He tilted his head, leaning closer, the smirk on his lips pure sin. “Sound familiar, sweetheart?”

I swallowed hard, refusing to back down, though my cheeks were burning. “Guess it’s easy to forget when it wasn’t exactly memorable.”

His grin widened, his other hand sliding to my waist and pulling me impossibly closer. “Oh, we’ll see about that,” he murmured, his lips grazing the corner of my mouth. “You’ve got a lot of smart things to say for someone who’s about to eat her words.”

I couldn’t stop the shiver that ran through me, his proximity, his touch, and that damn voice of his completely unraveling me. “Big talk for someone who might still disappoint,” I shot back, though my voice wasn’t nearly as steady as I wanted it to be.

He chuckled lowly, the sound vibrating against my chest. “You want me to prove you wrong?” he asked, his hand slipping lower, resting just on the curve of my hip. “Because once we start, sweetheart, I’m not stopping until I’ve made you forget every other man you’ve ever been with.”

I opened my mouth to respond, but the words died on my lips as his mouth brushed against mine—not a kiss, but a tease, a reminder of how close he was, how much control he had over the moment. His lips ghosted over mine again, his breath hot against my skin. “Tell me to stop,” he whispered, his tone daring me.

I couldn’t. I wouldn’t. Instead, I leaned in, closing the sliver of space between us and brushing my lips against his. It was all the confirmation he needed.

His grip on me tightened as he deepened the kiss, his lips firm but controlled, his movements deliberate and maddening. My fingers tangled in his shirt, pulling him closer, as if I could erase every inch of space between us.

When he pulled back just slightly, his lips still brushing against mine, he whispered, “That’s my girl.”

Without another word, he stepped back, his hand slipping into mine as he led me toward the bed. The tension was electric, the air between us thick with anticipation.

“Still think I’ve got something to prove?” he asked, his voice a soft, teasing growl as he 

He stopped just short of the edge, turning to face me, his hands sliding to my waist as he pulled me flush against him.

“Last chance,” he murmured, his voice a low, dangerous rasp. “Say the word, and I’ll stop.”

I looked up at him, my breath hitching as his eyes bore into mine, dark and intense. “I’m not stopping you,” I whispered, my voice trembling but resolute.

His lips twitched into that maddening smirk before he leaned down, capturing my mouth in a kiss that was anything but gentle. It was demanding, all-consuming, his hands gripping my hips as he pulled me even closer. I gasped against his lips, and he used the opportunity to deepen the kiss, his tongue sliding against mine in a way that made my knees buckle.

Matt’s hands roamed, exploring with purpose. One hand slid up my back, tangling in my hair, while the other gripped my waist, keeping me grounded as he kissed me like he was trying to claim every piece of me. His teeth grazed my bottom lip, and I couldn’t stop the soft moan that escaped me.

“Already making noises for me,” he murmured against my lips, his tone laced with smug satisfaction. “Guess I don’t have much to prove, after all.”

“Shut up,” I breathed, tugging at his shirt, desperate to feel more. He chuckled, the sound low and dangerous, before pulling back just enough to tug his shirt over his head.

My eyes traveled over him, taking in the hard planes of his inked chest, the lines that led lower, disappearing beneath the waistband of his jeans. He caught me looking and raised an eyebrow, his smirk growing. “Like what you see, sweetheart?”

I rolled my eyes, though my cheeks burned. “I’ve seen better,” I teased, throwing his own words back at him.

His grin turned predatory. “You’re gonna regret saying that,” he murmured, his voice dripping with promise. He moved forward, backing me up until my knees hit the edge of the bed. His hands slid to my thighs, guiding me down as he followed, his weight settling over me in a way that sent a thrill through my entire body.

His lips found mine again, the kiss deeper, hungrier this time. His hands explored, trailing over my sides, my hips, the curve of my waist. Every touch felt deliberate, calculated, like he was mapping me out, re-learning every inch of me.

I arched against him as his lips left mine, trailing down my jaw to the sensitive spot just below my ear. He lingered there, his teeth grazing my skin before his tongue soothed the bite. “Still think you’ve seen better?” he murmured, his voice rough against my skin.

“Matt,” I whispered, my voice shaky, pleading.

His lips curved into a smirk against my neck. “That’s what I thought.”

He didn’t rush, didn’t let me rush him. Every movement was slow, deliberate, as if he wanted to savor every moment, every reaction he pulled from me. His hands slid beneath my shirt, his fingers brushing against my bare skin, and I shivered under his touch.

“Let me hear you,” he murmured, his lips ghosting over my collarbone as his hands explored higher.

I couldn’t hold back the soft moan that escaped me, and he smiled against my skin, clearly satisfied. “Good girl.”

Matt’s hands slid higher under my shirt. He pulled back just enough to tug the fabric over my head, his eyes raking over me like I was the only thing that existed in the room.

“You’re so hot,” he murmured, his voice thick, almost reverent, as his fingers traced over my collarbone, down the curve of my waist, and settled on my hips. “Even better than I remembered.”

I couldn’t find words, couldn’t think straight with the way he was looking at me—like he was devouring me with his eyes, rememorizing every inch. He leaned down, his lips finding mine again, and the kiss was deeper, hungrier. His hands moved, gripping my hips again firmly as his weight pressed me into the mattress, grounding me and sending sparks shooting through my entire body.

“Matt,” I gasped against his lips, my voice trembling, and that was all the encouragement he needed.

His lips left mine, trailing a hot, deliberate path down my jaw to my neck, where he lingered, his teeth grazing over sensitive skin. I whimpered as he bit down gently, soothing the mark with his tongue before continuing lower. His lips danced over my collarbone, down to the curve of my chest, and I arched beneath him, my hands tangling in his hair as he worked his way down.

“Still think there’s better out there?” he asked, his voice low and rough, his breath hot against my skin.

I opened my mouth to respond, but all that came out was a soft moan as his hands gripped my waist, his thumbs pressing into the soft curve of my hips. His lips followed the path his hands had mapped, his touch firm but teasing, always just shy of where I wanted him most.

“Answer me, sweetheart,” he said, his tone dripping with smugness as he looked up at me, his smirk sending my heart into overdrive. “Because I don’t think you’ve got it in you to lie to me right now.”

“You’re infuriating,” I managed, my voice shaky but defiant.

“And yet,” he murmured, his hands sliding lower, his fingers brushing against the waistband of my shorts, “you can’t seem to get enough of me.”

“Prove it,” I challenged, though the trembling in my voice betrayed me.

Matt chuckled, a low, dangerous sound that sent heat pooling in my stomach. “Oh, I will,” he promised, his hands slipping beneath the fabric and pulling it down with agonizing slowness.

The cool air on my skin was a sharp contrast to his touch, and I shivered, my breath hitching as he leaned down again, his lips finding a new path across my hips. Every kiss, every touch was calculated, deliberate, like he was unraveling me piece by piece.

“You’re not ready for me,” he murmured against my skin, his voice low and teasing. “But don’t worry, sweetheart—I’ll take my time. You’ll forget everything else but me.”

Before he could even finish his sentence, his fingertips were on the buttons of my jean shorts, undoing them as if he had all the time in the world. His slender fingers unhooked them one at a time, his dead eyes looking up at me the entire time. 

“Lets get these off you, yeah?” he hums to himself as I raise my hips off the mattress slightly but enough for him to grab the hem of them and pull them down to my ankles— leaving me in nothing but my bra and underwear. 

As soon as my shorts hit the ground , his knees are quick to follow. He drops to the floor of the bed, grabbing my thighs with his hands and pulling me roughly to the edge.

I let out a quiet gasp of surprise as my body flew to the edge and i prop myself up on my elbows to look down at him. 

He looks up at me then drops his mouth to leg, his dead eyes heavy and half lidded. “Getting dejavu?” he says roughly against my inner thigh, placing soft kisses closer and closer to where I needed him.

I didn’t respond, I let my body do the talking when goosebumps rise across my thighs as his kisses travel closer and closer to my aching core. 

As soon as it looked like he was finally going to touch me, kiss me, do anything— he’d just trail his mouth back up towards my ankles that were resting over his shoulders.

“You’re such a fuckin’ tease, Matthew,” I whimper beneath him, at this point deperate for any sort of touch he was willing to give me.

“Let me make you feel good, baby” he hushes against my thigh, once more trailing his lips down to my clothed and untouched core.

Just as I was about to really start whining, i feel his fingers hook onto the waistband of my underwear, teasingly running his fingers acoss my lower abdomen. 

My body twitches at the slight touches, giving way to truly just how desperately and sickly I needed him. 

Matt licks his lips and runs his fingers across my skin one more time before finally reaching underneath and dragging them down my legs. It peeled off my core with a large string of arousal connecting my untouched cunt to my soaked panties.

“God,” Matt murmers under his breath, his gaze intense. I could feel him picking me apart with his eyes and it was causing a entire fire to ignite through my body. 

Before I could say anything, Matt removes a hand from my thigh and takes his pointer finger, spreading my folds. He groans outloud as he sees that I’m dripping in anticipation and clenching around air. 

I knew Matt wanted to eat me out, I mean, cmon. His nick name wasn’t “Matt the munch” for nothing. What I wasn’t expecting was for him to stand up, hook his fingers under your thighs again and flip you.

Within seconds your roles were reversed and Matt was sitting against the bed, head leaning back on the bed and looking up at the ceiling. And I was hovering on top of him, legs spread in a straddle, leaking cunt directly over his beautiful face. 

His hands come up and grab my hips, pushing me down with little to not force but enough to let me know what he wanted. 

I look down at him with hesitation and when our eyes meet, I nearly explode. His pupils were dilated so intently that there were almost no blue left. He licked his lips, eyes darting from my face to my core— waiting for my approval. 

And who am I to say no? 

The second Matt sensed me lowering onto his mouth, his hands tightened around my hips and pushed me onto his tongue with such force I had to grip the sheet to keep my balance. 

His tongue immediately found my clit and even after four years he remembered the exact rhythm that had me shaking. 

“Fuck Matt—” I moan, grabbing his hair and tugging lightly. 

The second his tongue left my clit and dove deep into me, I knew I was a goner and that I was not going to last long at all. 

It was almost embarrassing how quickly my body remembers everything about him— the curve of his nose that hit my clit just the right way every time i rocked my hips, the light scruff on his jaw that scratched against my thighs every time he’d move his mouth, the deep groans he’d let out that would vibrate through my body— everything. 

But the part that got me the most was the way he seemed to enjoy it just as much if not more than I did. 

I feel my juices leak down his chin, his tongue lapping up as much as he could, sucking on my folds, flicking my clit, and everything in between. 

He was eating me out not just like it was his last meal— no. he was eating me out as if he had never eaten anything before in his life. As if he had spent his life in purgatory and I was his first taste of freedom. 

As if it couldn’t get any better, his hands leave the deathlock they previously had on my thighs and when I opened my eyes to look down to see what he was doing, I nearly came there and then. 

Matt was so turned on from eating me out that he was fumbling with the belt buckle of his own pants, tugging them down to free his erection as if his life depended on it. 

At the sight of his strained cock spring out of his boxers, I couldn’t help but grind down extra hard on his mouth and tipping my head back, moaning out loud, not caring about how loud I am or that everyone was only a few hundred feet away in the room over. 

When I open my eyes again and look down, Matt had one fist around his cock, pumping up and down with immense speed. Before I had time to question where his other hand went, my questions were answered when I felt his pointer and middle finger sneak up next to his chin and prod against my entrance. 

My back arched as he slowly pushes one in and I pull on his hair so hard I feel his moan beneath me when he slips the second one in. 

“Fuck” I cry, begging to rock my hips against his hand, needing to feel something. “Please, Matt.”

Matt simply hums underneath me, still continuing to jerk himself off and eat me out. He slowly brings his fingers out and then pushes them back in, this time faster. 

“Oh fuck, keep going, please,” I beg, no longer caring enough about my pride. 

His fingers continue to pump in and out of me faster and faster. Even after four years he can tell when I was close based on how tightly I clamp down around him. 

“Fuck, right there!” I cry out, rocking harder and faster against his mouth and fingers, desperately chasing my high. 

He scissors his fingers inside me and my legs threaten to close. The way he applies just the right amount of pressure in just the right spot to makes my thighs begin to shake as I rapidly approach my orgasm.

I couldn’t respond, couldn’t do anything but hold onto him, my body trembling as his hands and tongue drove me closer to the edge of madness. He was in control, and he knew it, his every movement a reminder of just how much power he held over me.

“Matt,” I gasped, his name tumbling from my lips in a broken whisper, my fingers clutching desperately at his hair. My pulse thundered in my ears, the air thick and electric, every sense overwhelmed by him—his scent, his heat, the deep, dark tone of his voice as he murmured something I couldn’t even process.

He smirked against my skin, clearly satisfied by the way my body reacted to him, how every shiver, every soft sound I made, told him exactly what he needed to know. “That’s it,” he murmured, his voice low and rough, a command wrapped in velvet. “Let go for me.”

I was helpless against him, my body no longer mine as he pushed me further, higher, until I was teetering on the edge of something I couldn’t quite name. And then, with one final, deliberate move—his hand tightening, his lips pressing just right—it hit me like a tidal wave.

My entire body tensed, my breath catching in my throat as pleasure washed over me, sharp and overwhelming, crashing through me in waves that left me trembling, gasping for air. My fingers dug into his skin, my back arching as I gave in completely, every nerve alight, every thought replaced by the intensity of the moment.

I cry out, surly aleting not just the rest of the house but the entire fucking neighborhood at this point. “I’m cu— fuck — i’m cumin’, Matt”

“Thats it,” he murmured, his tone whiney and uneven and that's when I felt it— the way his body tensed under mine, his hands gripping my hips twice as tightly. I could feel his control slipping.

“Jesus, fuck ” he groaned against my core, his voice low and raw, like the sound was ripped from his chest. His mouth fell slack, his finger movements stuttering slightly as he buried his face deeper into my pussy.

The realization hit me as I felt the tremor run through him, his body shuddering against mine, his breath hot and uneven against me. He hadn’t even needed anything else—just me, just this. The way he’d completely unraveled me had been enough to push him over the edge too.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he whispered, his voice hoarse, like he couldn’t believe what had just happened. 

I was still trying to catch my breath, my body boneless on top of his face, but the warmth of his reaction sent a thrill through me. “Matt,” I murmured, my voice shaky but teasing. “Did you just—”

He slowly removed his hand from inside me, and brought it to his cock, jerking himself through the last bits of his orgasm with my cum coating his fingers. “You have no idea what you do to me, sweetheart,” he said, his voice rough but full of that maddening confidence.

I laughed weakly, leaning forward and resting my forehead against the mattress. “Guess I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“Oh, it is,” he murmured. “Trust me.”

I collapsed on the bed in front of him, finally giving him space to breathe. He chuckled softly, standing up and climbing up on the bed with me, his arms wrapping around me as if to hold me steady.

Matt groaned softly, still holding me close as the aftermath of the moment settled between us. His fingers lazily traced circles on my back, his breathing finally slowing to match mine. 

“I hate to ruin this,” I murmured, my voice still slightly breathless, “but we should probably clean up.”

Matt chuckled, the sound low and rich as he kissed my forehead. “Yeah, we probably should. But I don’t know if I’m ready to let you go yet.”

I rolled my eyes, though a small smile tugged at my lips. “C’mon, Matt. You can hold me after we’re not sticking to each other.”

He groaned dramatically, finally sitting up and pulling me with him. “Fine. But only because I like you,” he teased, smirking as he picked up his shirt from the ground and offered it to me.

I slipped it on, the fabric hanging loose and smelling like him, and I couldn’t help but smile. “You’re just full of chivalry tonight.”

He raised an eyebrow as he grabbed a towel, tossing one to me with a playful smirk. “Don’t get used to it.”

We cleaned up quickly, despite neither of us really wanting to leave. Once we were both somewhat presentable, Matt ruffled his hair and grinned at me. “Ready to face the peanut gallery?”

“Not really,” I muttered, biting my lip. “But let’s get it over with.”

He laughed, slinging an arm around my shoulder as we walked back out to the living room. The scene was exactly as we’d left it—Nick still passed out in the corner, Chris lounging on the couch, and Charlie perched beside him, scrolling through her phone.

Except this time, Charlie’s head snapped up the moment she saw us, a wide, wicked grin spreading across her face. “Well, well, well,” she said, setting her phone down and crossing her arms. “Look who decided to join us.”

“Don’t start,” Matt warned, though the corners of his lips twitched.

Charlie ignored him, her gaze locking onto me. “Y/N, babe. Sweetheart. You okay? You were so loud, I was starting to think we’d need to send Chris in with a medic.”

My face went hot instantly, and I shoved Matt’s arm off my shoulder, glaring at her. “Charlie!”

“What?” she said, feigning innocence. “I’m just saying. Some of us were trying to watch TV, and all we could hear was—oh, Matt! Oh, my God! Right there!”

Chris burst out laughing, throwing an arm over her shoulder. “She’s not wrong.”

Matt smirked, clearly unbothered as he dropped onto the couch next to Nick. “Glad I could provide some entertainment.”

Charlie grinned, leaning forward and pointing at me. “And you, miss thing, need to hydrate after all that screaming. Go grab some water before you pass out.”

I groaned, burying my face in my hands. “I hate you.”

“No, you don’t,” Charlie said with a laugh, tossing me a water bottle. “You love me. And honestly? You’re welcome.”

“For what?” I muttered, sitting down and cracking open the bottle.

“For being the best wingwoman ever,” she said with a wink. “You’re welcome, Matt.”

Matt raised his water bottle in a mock toast. “Appreciate it, Charlie.”

Chris groaned, leaning back. “I’ve gotta start charging for putting up with all this. I swear.”

Charlie grinned, resting her head on his shoulder. “You love us.”

Chris sighed, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Unfortunately.”

I sipped my water, my embarrassment fading as the playful energy filled the room. Maybe being called out wasn’t so bad—especially when I was surrounded by the people I loved most.

tag-

@tbfaptbfae @ch0llies @2muchofaslvt @rockstarchr1s @simply-a-simper @mattscore @watercolorskyy @urfungi @sturnsvelocity @mattsturnii @christmastreecake @izzylovesmatt @larnieboox88 @christophersstar @realuvrrr @namelesssav @matts-girlfriend

[hmslusitania]

For the OTP prompts - TimKon #2 👀

Please enjoy some boys being very silly in a nebulous Young Justice timeline, to the prompt of "I'm dying." "You're not dying."

“I’m dying,” Kon proclaims, draping himself dramatically over the back of the couch in their headquarters, his wrist pressed to his forehead like a caricature of a Victorian maiden swooning on a fainting couch.

“You’re not dying,” Tim snaps, rolling his eyes. He’s trying to fill out reports, because that had been part of the Justice League’s terms for letting them continue to operate — paperwork. He and Cassie had rock-paper-scissored about which of them had to do said paperwork, and after losing and taking one look at the Batman-formatted report papers, she’d declared that she was making him Young Justice’s secretary, and declared it his responsibility.

“You don’t know,” Kon complains, pushing off from the ground so he rolls all the way over the back of the couch. He manages to twist while he falls so that he lands on his stomach with his arms folded around one of the throw pillows Cissie had brought in because they “brightened up the place.” “I totally could be.”

“You can’t actually die of boredom,” Tim scolds.

“I’m sure there’s gotta be a rogue somewhere who can do that,” Kon says, which is… almost certainly true and Tim kinda hates that. “For all you know, I got whammied by it, and now unless you entertain me, I’m gonna die of the stupidest bullshit ever.”

“I am the wrong Robin if you want entertainment,” Tim says. “Dick was the one who was a literal circus performer.”

“Yeah, because I’m just gonna pop over to Titans tower and ask Nightwing to do backflips for my entertainment,” Kon scoffs.

“Well, I’m not gonna do backflips for your entertainment,” Tim replies, signs the bottom of the report, and flips it into the finished stack. As he reaches for the next one, Kon scrambles down to the end of the couch closest to Tim’s table.

“Can you actually do a backflip?” he asks.

Tim sighs. “Yeah.”

“Woooow,” Kon says, dragging the syllable out. Tim makes the mistake of glancing his way and discovers Kon watching him with a challenge brightening his face. “That would be super hot, if I believed you.”

“See, I know you’re just trying to goad me, so that’s not gonna work,” Tim says, and focuses on his paperwork. The looming, omnipresent threat of Bruce’s disapproval if he doesn’t get them filled out correctly and in a timely manner is good enough incentive to keep him from being distracted by Kon’s… everything.

“Sure, okay,” Kon says, and flips over onto his back with his hands folded behind his head. Tim makes a further mistake when he looks again and gets a good eyeful of the way Kon’s biceps are straining the leather of his jacket these days.

In a kinder world, growing up surrounded by superheroes had rendered him immune to distraction by traditional superhero physique. Unfortunately, no one’s ever accused their corner of the multiverse of being a kinder world.

Well. Except Earth-3 people, but that’s a special case.

“I’ll just sit here, content in the knowledge you lied about something stupid so that you could sound cool,” Kon says.

It shouldn’t actually get to him, but it does, and Tim kind of hates himself for that a little.

Grumbling the whole time so Kon knows exactly how much of a pain in the ass he’s being, Tim stands up, checks his clearances, and does a backflip, exactly like Dick taught him.

To his surprise, Kon doesn’t verbally respond. When Tim looks over to see what’s wrong with him, or what’s distracted him, he finds Kon just… staring at him. Blinking widely. Face slightly pink.

It makes Tim blush in response as well, without meaning to, and he kind of hates that too.

“See, I was just fucking with you—”

“Yeah, I noticed, actually.”

“—but that was actually super hot.”

Tim’s blush goes from faint to on-the-verge-of-combustion, and he takes his seat back at the table to keep doing his reports, vividly aware that Kon is now staring at him from the couch with an expression on his face that’s not wholly dissimilar to one of Damian’s cats when it’s getting ready to pounce.

“Tim,” Kon says, and Tim swears to god there’s a hint of a purr in the back of his throat.

Kryptonians and Cats. There’s probably a whole research paper in there Tim could cook up if he wanted to.

“I’m trying to keep the Justice League from shutting us down,” Tim protests. “I’m not doing another backflip for you.”

Kon huffs and launches himself into the air only to hover over Tim’s head, looking down at him and looming ominously. Tim doesn’t flinch when Kon leans down to grab his face in both hands, but it’s only Batman training that saves him. Batman training, and rapidly growing annoyance when Kon squishes his cheeks together and lowers down until Kon’s upside down face is directly in front of his.

“Tim,” Kon repeats. “You’re hot.”

“Thanks,” Tim says, voice coming out weirdly squashed thanks to Kon’s compression of his face. “So are you.”

Kon beams at him and brushes the tip of his nose against Tim’s, and then drops down another few inches so he can kiss him.

It’s not their first kiss, or even their first outside of sleepover night truth or dare and spin-the-bottle games, but this whole thing developing between them is still new enough that it might be within the counting-on-his-fingers range.

Kon nibbles lightly on his bottom lip and then faster than Tim can blink, he’s flipping around in mid-air only to land in Tim’s lap, hands still squishing Tim’s cheeks together.

“And I think, you should kiss me some more before I die of boredom and you have to find a new heavy hitter for your team,” Kon says. “Think about it. Do you want to get this paperwork submitted just on time rather than obnoxiously early, or do you want to have to figure out how to fill out paperwork for ‘I accidentally let Kon-El languish away to nothing out of boredom because I wouldn’t kiss him’ paperwork?”

“I think I’d make up a different cause of death for the paperwork,” Tim replies, waits until Kon’s scrunched up his nose and his whole face in disappointment, and only then does he give up on paperwork for the time being, and kiss him.

[midnight-shadow-cafe]

All Wrapped Up

Pairing: Poly Marauders x reader

Warnings: fluffy

Authors Note: I hope you enjoy Christmas with the boys

Word Count: 1.1k

Masterlist

MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+

The Potter family home was a masterpiece of holiday charm. The large stone manor stood proudly atop a hill, its many windows glowing with golden light as snowflakes spiraled lazily through the air. A grand wreath adorned the front door, and you swore you heard faint laughter echoing from within before you even knocked.

Before you could raise your hand, the door swung open, revealing Euphemia Potter, her kind face alight with warmth. “Oh, you must be freezing! Come in, come in!” she exclaimed, ushering you inside with motherly enthusiasm. The warmth of the house enveloped you immediately, and your boots clicked softly against the polished wooden floor as you stepped into the entryway.

“Don’t let these boys drive you mad,” Euphemia teased, taking your coat and giving you a conspiratorial smile. “But if they do, come to me. I’ve been managing them for years.”

James appeared in the hallway, his messy hair sticking up in every direction as usual. “Mum, you’re ruining my reputation,” he said with an exaggerated groan, though the grin on his face betrayed his amusement.

“She’s only telling the truth,” Sirius called from the sitting room, his voice rich and playful.

James rolled his eyes but looped an arm around your shoulders, guiding you deeper into the house. “C’mon, let’s show you the decorations. Mum’s gone all out this year.”

---

The sitting room was a wonderland of festive cheer. A roaring fire crackled in the stone hearth, sending flickering shadows dancing across the walls. Garlands of holly and ivy hung from the mantel, their leaves sparkling with enchanted frost. The Christmas tree stood proudly in the corner, its branches laden with baubles that hummed soft, magical carols. At the base of the tree were dozens of wrapped gifts, their ribbons curling perfectly as if enchanted to never fray.

Sirius was lounging on the couch, one arm draped casually over the backrest. He looked up as you entered, a mischievous glint in his gray eyes. “Ah, just in time,” he said, standing and pulling a sprig of mistletoe from his pocket. He held it above his head with a grin that could only be described as roguish.

“Sirius, that’s cheating,” you said, laughing as you shook your head.

“Call it what you want, love,” he replied, stepping closer. His free hand settled on your waist as he leaned in, his lips brushing yours in a kiss that was warm and slow, leaving you momentarily breathless.

“You’ve done this three times already,” Remus said, entering the room with a plate of cookies balanced in one hand.

“And I’ll do it thirty more if I can get away with it,” Sirius replied without missing a beat. He dropped the mistletoe onto the table and smirked at Remus.

“Here,” Remus said, offering you a cookie. The warm, spicy scent of ginger and cinnamon hit you immediately, and you took one eagerly, marveling at the delicate swirls of white and gold icing.

“You made these?” you asked, touched by the effort.

Remus shrugged, though a faint blush dusted his cheeks. “It’s just a recipe.”

“It’s perfect,” you said softly, standing on your toes to kiss his cheek.

---

A few minutes later, James burst into the room, carrying an armful of scarves and an oversized wool hat that looked like it had been knit by someone who’d only just learned how. “Alright, team! Time for the ultimate snowball fight!” he declared, dropping the pile of winter gear onto the table.

“Teams are as follows: me and my lovely partner here,” he said, pointing to you dramatically, “versus those two hooligans.”

“Unfair advantage!” Sirius protested immediately, though he was already pulling on a scarf. “You can’t just claim her because you know we’ll lose without her!”

James grinned smugly, tossing you a scarf. “I don’t make the rules—oh wait, I do.”

---

The snowball fight was nothing short of legendary. Outside, the world was a pristine white, the snow crunching underfoot as you and James worked quickly to build a fort. Sirius and Remus, meanwhile, bickered about strategy on the other side of the yard.

“You’re terrible at this,” Sirius said, shaking snow off his gloves.

“You’re the one who suggested we ambush them,” Remus replied, packing a snowball with clinical precision.

The truce ended when Sirius launched the first snowball with a triumphant shout of “No mercy!” You barely had time to duck before a flurry of snowballs came your way, and James retaliated with a barrage of his own.

The chaos that followed was filled with laughter and playful shouts. At one point, Sirius tackled you into a snowdrift, his laughter loud and carefree. “Traitor!” he gasped, lying flat on his back in the snow.

“You started it,” you said, grinning as you helped him up.

---

By the time you all trudged back inside, your cheeks were flushed from the cold, and your hair was damp with melted snow. Euphemia met you at the door with mugs of steaming hot cocoa, each topped with whipped cream and a sprinkle of cinnamon.

“Warm up by the fire, dears,” she said, her voice gentle.

The four of you settled in the sitting room, basking in the warmth of the fire as you sipped your cocoa. Sirius sprawled out beside you, his head resting on your shoulder, while James and Remus sat on the rug, their legs stretched toward the hearth.

---

Later that evening, the four of you gathered to exchange gifts. Sirius handed you a large, silver-wrapped box, his excitement practically radiating from him.

“Go on, open it,” he urged, leaning forward.

Inside was a leather jacket, buttery soft and perfectly tailored. You ran your fingers over the material, speechless.

“You’ll look devastating in this,” Sirius said, winking as he leaned back with a satisfied grin.

Remus’s gift came next, a carefully wrapped package that revealed a handmade book. Each page was filled with his neat handwriting, little sketches, and pressed flowers.

“I thought you might like something to remember us by,” he said softly, watching your reaction with a hint of nervousness.

You placed a hand on his cheek, brushing a kiss to his lips. “I’ll treasure it.”

James’s gift was last, a small box containing a charm bracelet. Each charm was intricately crafted—a stag, a wolf, a dog, and a heart.

“So you’ll always have us with you,” James said, his voice uncharacteristically tender.

Tears prickled at the corners of your eyes as you looked around at them. “I don’t know what I did to deserve this,” you whispered.

Sirius pulled you into his lap, wrapping his arms around you. “You didn’t. We’re just lucky you keep us around.”

As the fire crackled and snow fell softly outside, you felt completely and utterly at home.

Hope you enjoyed! Please consider liking and reposting! –Midnight 💜