#fwb!reader

[vanteguccir]

can you do when the triplets go to Boston and Matt gets to see his sneaky link after no physical contact in two months and fans see them after fucking 

── ୨୧ !　BLURB

fwb!matt sturniolo x reader

where you and fwb!matt reunite again after some weeks, and the back home vlog caught your state after fucking

　　　༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

Matt’s heart raced as he laid beside Y/N, the faint glow of the setting sun peeking through the window blinds casting shadows across his childhood bedroom. The familiar scent of his cologne, mixed with a hint of her perfume, hung in the air; an intoxicating blend of familiarity and desire.

Being back in Boston brought with it a surge of emotions, but seeing Y/N again after weeks apart had his feelings on overdrive. His hand brushed softly over her bare back, fingers tracing lazy circles as the two of them caught their breath.

The faintest of smiles tugged at the corners of her mouth as she curled into his side, the soft hum of his breathing calming her.

"You know, I missed this." He murmured, his voice low, still laced with arousal, as he turned to look at her. His deep blue eyes softened as they met hers, his thumb grazing over her cheek. "Missed you."

Y/N smirked, leaning in to press a lingering kiss to his collarbone.

"You better have." She teased, feeling his chest rumble with a low chuckle. "It’s been weeks, Matt. I thought you forgot all about me."

He shifted, propping himself up on an elbow to look down at her, his face still glowing and eyes still dazed from the recent fucking they had.

"Forget you? Never." His voice was serious now, a flash of something deeper passing through his eyes before he covered it with a crooked grin. "Besides, you know I could never stay away from that pussy for long."

"You're an idiot, you know that?" Y/N asked, shaking her head as laughter escaped her mouth.

The moment lingered, both of them knowing there was more beneath the surface.

A loud knock echoed through the room, making both of them jolt.

"Matt! We’re about to film downstairs! You’re joining or what?" Nick’s voice called out from the hallway, shattering the bubble of peace around them.

Matt groaned, falling back onto the bed.

"Shit, I forgot about that."

Y/N let out a soft laugh, sitting up and quickly realizing the state Matt was in. His skin was still blotchy, and his hair was a wild mess, sticking up in all directions.

"You look like you’ve been through a storm." Y/N teased, running a hand through his disheveled hair as she attempted to smooth it down.

He chuckled, grabbing her wrist and pressing a kiss to the inside of it.

"Speak for yourself. You don’t exactly look put together either."

"Shit." Y/N muttered, catching a glimpse of herself in the mirror across the room. "They’re going to notice..."

Matt’s grin widened, a mischievous glint in his eye.

"Let them think what they want. It’s not like Nick and Chris don’t already have their suspicions."

Y/N rolled her eyes, but the warmth in her chest didn’t fade. There was something exhilarating about being back here with Matt, even with the possibility of being caught by his brothers. It was the thrill of sneaking around, the shared glances that held secrets, the unspoken connection that kept pulling the two of them back together every time they thought it was over.

Reluctantly, the two of them made their way downstairs, trying to make themselves look as presentable as possible.

Matt walked slightly ahead of her, his fingers brushing through his hair in a futile attempt to smooth down the mess Y/N had made of it upstairs. His back was straight, his usual laid-back demeanor replaced with an uncharacteristic stiffness as he tried his best to look composed.

Y/N, on the other hand, could feel the remnants of their recent activities painted across her face. A quick glance in the hallway mirror had confirmed it: her hair was wild and slightly frizzy from Matt’s hands pulling it, her eyes were glossy with that unmistakable post-sex daze, and her lips were plump and still tingling from all the fervent kissing.

She cursed under her breath, wishing she had taken more time to fix herself up, but now it was too late.

When they entered the living room, Matt immediately put some distance between the two of them. His hand, which had just moments ago been all over Y/N, now awkwardly shoved into his pocket. Y/N couldn’t help but smirk to herself at how hard he was trying to act normal.

He had moved to the far side of the room, picking up a random water bottle from the kitchen counter and taking a long gulp, clearly stalling for time. But it didn’t matter how much space he put between them. The evidence was still all over him.

Nick was already talking to the camera, barely glancing at the two of them, but Chris, sitting at the couch while tying his converse so they could go out, wasn’t as subtle. His sharp gaze flickered over Matt first, taking in his slightly crumpled clothes, the flushed red tint to his usually pale skin, and the way his hair was more messy than usual.

Then, Chris’s eyes drifted to Y/N, a knowing smirk already curling at the edges of his lips.

Y/N shifted under Chris’s scrutiny, attempting to fix her hair in vain, but there was no hiding. Her clothes, though she had tried to straighten them before coming downstairs, still looked slightly rumpled, like they had been tugged at and rearranged in haste. Chris didn’t say anything right away, but Y/N could tell he was mentally filing it away for later.

"So, uh, we’re back in Boston for the weekend, visiting family and all that... It’s been a minute since we’ve been home, so we’re filming a little ‘back home’ vlog for you guys." Nick’s voice broke the tension as he explained what they would be doing for the day, shifting into his more energetic on-camera persona. Matt stood awkwardly off to the side, attempting to stay out of frame for the moment, but it wasn’t long before Nick called him out. "Oh, Matt is finally here, too."

Matt took a deep breath as he noticed Nick pointing the camera at him, standing as casually as he could manage, though his body language was stiff, as if trying too hard not to look guilty.

"And Y/N too, y'all remember her, right? She was always with us..."

Y/N smiled awkwardly to the camera lens, waving slowly, still not used to being in a video frame - much less in those conditions -, trying to act as though everything was normal.

Chris leaned back on the couch, clearly relishing the opportunity. He gave Matt a sideways glance, his smirk widening as Nick kept talking to the camera, never one to miss an opportunity for a jab, cut in smoothly.

"Matt’s really been enjoying being back, huh?" His eyes flicked to Y/N briefly, but it was Matt who bore the brunt of his teasing. "What’ve you been up to, man? You look a little... red there."

Matt visibly stiffened, his face flushing even more at the comment. He shot Chris a warning glare, but Chris just grinned wider, clearly enjoying how flustered his brother was.

"Nothing, just... chilling." Matt muttered, his voice uncharacteristically quiet.

Nick, oblivious to the tension, carried on, but Chris wasn’t done yet. As Nick talked to the camera about their plans for the vlog, Chris leaned in slightly closer to Y/N - who was standing too close -, his voice low but just loud enough for the camera’s mic to catch.

"You too, kid." He said, eyes flicking over her with a teasing glint. "Missed us, huh?" His tone was dripping with sarcasm, and Y/N could feel her face heating up even more.

Y/N shot him a playful glare, trying to act like his teasing wasn’t getting to her, but it was hard to ignore the way her heart raced every time he looked between her and Matt. The two of them had done a good job of keeping their sneaky link under wraps for years, but it was clear Chris wasn’t buying the act anymore.

Nick, now noticing the back-and-forth, finally picked up on the vibe in the room. He paused mid-sentence, glancing between the three of them with furrowed brows.

"Wait, what’s going on here?" He asked, looking confused.

Chris waved him off, still grinning.

"Nothing, just messing with them. I mean, come on, doesn’t Matt look like he’s been... busy?"

Nick’s eyes flicked to Matt, then to Y/N, before his face lit up with realization. He tried to suppress a laugh, but it came out anyway.

"Oh yeah, you’re right. Matt looks like he just ran a marathon."

Matt groaned, running a hand through his hair as he tried to play it off.

"Can we just get on with the vlog?" He muttered, clearly desperate to change the subject, fishing his mother's car keys from the coffee table, ready to go to wherever they wanted to go without a complaint.

Nick finally gave in, though he was still chuckling under his breath as he turned back to the camera.

"Alright, let’s get back on track. We’ve got a lot to show you guys this weekend."

But even as the camera continued to roll and the vlog progressed, she and Matt exchanged a few glances, fresh memories of touches and pure pleasure running through their minds.

And sure enough, once the vlog was posted later that night, the comments started flooding in almost immediately.

"Y/N and matt look like they've gone through hell (or heaven) LMAO 😭"

"who knew matt had that in him"

"omg he looks so fucking hot like that 😩"

"HIS HAIR????? UGHHHH"

"post-sex matt just hits different (I'm so sure they had sex before that vlog)"

"chris is definitely the younger brother and I can prove it"

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh as she scrolled through the comments, feeling Matt’s arm wrap around her bare shoulders as the two of them lay on her bed, naked bodies only covered by thin sheets. Despite the teasing, despite how obvious it had all been, there was something thrilling about it; something that made sneaking around even more fun.

"Maybe next time we’ll be more subtle." Matt whispered in Y/N’s ear, his breath warm against her skin, his lips wrapping around the soft flesh of her jaw.

Y/N smirked, throwing her phone to the side and letting her head fall to the opposite side, opening way for his mouth.

"Or maybe we just won’t care."

[eveninggstar]

casual ⊹ ࣪ ˖

lando norris x fwb!reader

15.07.24

୨ৎAfter ending a previous relationship, you weren't looking for anything serious, preferring a casual fling if the opportunity arose. But Lando changes everything. Despite your intentions, you find yourselves acting more like a couple, leading to emotional confusion and misunderstandings. As you navigate the thin line between friends and lovers, your casual arrangement becomes increasingly complicated.

୨ৎ back a page ୨ৎ back two pages

slight mention of fem!receiving oral

The rhythmic hum of engines and the scent of burning rubber filled the air, signalling another typical day at the racetrack. For you, however, today was anything but typical. Standing by the paddock, you glanced around, searching for a familiar face. You werent a formula one fan, you had just been invited by a close friend. Your heart skipped a beat when you spotted Lando, his trademark grin lighting up his face as he chatted with his team.

You had met Lando through mutual friends a few months back, and what started as harmless flirting quickly turned into something more… casual. Neither of you was looking for anything serious, and the arrangement suited both of you perfectly. He was busy travelling the world for work, and you were getting over a recent break up and wanted a distraction for a while. It was fun, exciting, and free from the complications of a traditional relationship.

Lando caught your eye from across the paddock and flashed you a quick, knowing smile before returning his attention to the conversation. You smiled back, feeling a warmth spread through you. The arrangement was simple: no strings attached, no expectations, no exclusivity, just pure enjoyment. And it was working—at least for now.

As the race weekend kicked off, you found yourself immersed in the excitement and chaos of it all. The roar of the cars speeding around the track, the cheers of the fans, the intense focus of the teams—it was a world you had quickly grown to love. And having Lando in that world made it all the more thrilling.

When the day's events finally wound down, you made your way to Lando's motorhome, where you had spent countless nights together. He opened the door with a welcoming grin, pulling you inside and into a quick, warm hug. "Hey, you," he said, his voice low and playful. "Missed me?" He placed a short kiss to your temple.

You laughed, shaking your head. "You saw me a few hours ago, Lando." Putting your hands onto his chest, thankfully he had changed since the race.

"Yeah, but it felt like forever," he replied, his tone teasing. He led you to the small but cozy seating area, then letting fatigue take over him as he laid on you and buried him face in your cleavage. "So, how was your day?" His muffled voice vibrated against your cool skin.

"Fun, I love watching you race." you said, taking a sip of your drink. "It's always exciting here."

Lando nodded, his eyes sparkling with enthusiasm as he looked up and rested his chin on you. "I'm glad you enjoyed it. I race better when you're here."

You both chatted for a while, discussing the day's events and sharing stories. It felt natural and easy, the way it always did with Lando.

You could hear Lando’s laughter through the door as you approached his apartment. Your heart felt heavy with the weight thinking that there had been another girl over, with the non-exclusive agreement you both had it seemed plausible. Taking a deep breath, you knocked, and moments later, Lando opened the door, his face lighting up when he saw you.

“Hey, you,” he greeted, his voice filled with a warmth that made your resolve waver.

“Hey,” you replied, stepping inside. "Wanna hang out? I was shopping and thought I would drop by." You head echoed with the word 'liar'. You had been shopping, but you just wanted to see Lando.

Lando nodded, but before you could continue, he gestured to his phone. “I’m actually on the phone with Flo. Want to say hi?”

You blinked, momentarily taken aback. “Uh, sure.” Seeing as you had never spoken to any of his family members before you were incredibly nervous.

He handed you the phone, and you hesitantly took it, pressing it to your ear. “Hello?”

“Hey! It’s Flo,” came the familiar, cheerful voice. “How are you?”

You felt a rush of relief, grateful for the unexpected distraction. “Hi, Flo. I’m... I’m okay. How are you?”

“I’m good,” she replied, her tone softening. “Lando talks about you no stop. So its nice to finally meet you, even if it isnt face to face.”

Your grip on the phone tightened, and you glanced at Lando, who was watching you with an encouraging smile. “Yeah, its nice to meet you. He's spoken about you before.”

Flo's voice was filled with excitement. “I, honestly, cant wait to meet you at some point. Maybe at a race?”

You hesitated, feeling a lump form in your throat. “Oh yeah, of course.” You looked up as Lando caught your hand to lead you to the sofa.

“Hey, I've got to go. Ill get Lando to send you my number. And don’t hesitate to call me if you need to talk.”

You handed the phone back to Lando, who took it with a grateful smile. “Thanks, Flo. Talk to you later.”

On another occasion you and Lando had decided to take a drive to steal a few moments of privacy. The sleek, powerful car purred beneath you as Lando navigated the winding roads, the two of you laughing and talking, enjoying each other's company without the watchful eyes of fans and team members.

Lando turned onto a secluded road, the trees arching overhead to create a canopy that filtered the dying light. He pulled over into a small clearing, switching off the engine and letting the silence envelop you both. The air was thick with anticipation, the kind that always seemed to build between you when you were alone together.

Lando reached across the center console, his fingers brushing against your cheek. "Come here," he murmured, his voice low and inviting as he patted his lap.

After you maneuvered your way to Lando's lap, you leaned in and your lips meeting his in a slow, tantalizing kiss. It was a dance you had perfected over the months, each touch and caress familiar yet electrifying. As the kiss deepened, Lando's hands roamed over your body, igniting a fire that spread through you with every touch.

Without breaking the kiss, he guided you back to the passenger seat, his hands firm on your hips. The confined space of the car added an extra layer of intimacy, the closeness amplifying every sensation. You sat there anticipating his next move, your heart racing as Lando's lips travelled down your neck, his hands exploring every inch of you.

"Lando," you breathed, your voice a mixture of desire and urgency. He looked up at you, his eyes dark with need, and you felt a shiver run down your spine.

"Is this okay?" he asked, his voice husky and filled with anticipation.

You nodded, your breath hitching as his hands slid up your thighs. "Yes," you whispered, your fingers tangling in his hair. "Yes, please."

Lando's mouth found its way to the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, his touch sending waves of pleasure through your body. As he moved closer, you gasped, your back arching against the seat. His hands gripped your hips, steadying you as he continued to explore, his tongue and lips working in perfect harmony.

The world outside the car ceased to exist, the only reality the two of you and the overwhelming pleasure he was giving you. Every touch, every kiss, every bite, brought you closer to the edge, your mind a blur of sensation and emotion. You clutched at his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin as you rode the wave of pleasure.

It was raw and real, a connection that went beyond the physical. As you cried out in ecstasy, your body trembling with release, you couldn't shake the feeling that something fundamental had shifted between you.

Lando looked up at you, his eyes filled with a mix of satisfaction and something deeper, something that mirrored your own conflicted emotions. He moved back up to kiss you, his lips gentle against yours as he whispered, "You okay?"

You nodded, your breath still coming in short gasps. "Yeah, I'm... I'm good."

He smiled, brushing a strand of hair from your face. "Good. Because that was... wow."

You laughed softly, the sound a release of tension and emotion. "Yeah, it was."

As you both sat there, the afterglow of the moment settling around you, the question lingered in your mind. Could something so intense, so intimate, really be considered casual? And if it wasn't, what did that mean for you and Lando?

You didn't have the answers, but as you looked into his eyes, you knew you wanted to find out.

Two weeks had passed since that intense evening in the car. The memories of that night had lingered, the question of whether what you and Lando had could still be considered casual haunting your thoughts. The dynamic between you hadn't changed outwardly—you still enjoyed each other's company, flirted, and reveled in the physical connection—but there was an undercurrent of something more, something neither of you had addressed.

You were sitting in your apartment, scrolling through your phone, when a message from Lando popped up.

The drive to Lando's parents house was filled with easy conversation and laughter, the familiar comfort of being with Lando wrapping around you like a warm blanket. As you pulled up to a charming house, nerves fluttered in your stomach. Lando parked the car and turned to you, his eyes filled with reassurance.

"Ready?" he asked, squeezing your hand.

"As I'll ever be," you replied, giving him a brave smile.

Lando's mum, Cisca, greeted you at the door with a warm smile and a hug that immediately put you at ease. She was gracious and welcoming, her enthusiasm for meeting you evident in every word and gesture. The afternoon passed in a blur of conversation, laughter, and delicious food. Cisca regaled you with stories of Lando's childhood, her pride in her son shining through every anecdote.

You found yourself enjoying the day more than you had anticipated, the easy camaraderie making you feel like you were part of something more than just a casual fling, something that you had wanted and pushed to Lando after the first night you shared together. As the sun began to set, you and Lando took a walk along the streets, the gentle sound of the nearby pubs providing a soothing and comedic backdrop.

"Your mum is amazing," you said, slipping your hand into his.

"She likes you," Lando replied, his smile softening his features. "I knew she would." He began to swing your arms.

"Lando," You spoke softly into the night, knowing your next words but had no plan on saying them.

"Yes?" He instantly replied, looking at you sharply like a puppy. You both stopped walking, the moonlight reflecting in both of your eyes.

"I know what you tell your friends." Panic struck through Lando's features, his cheeks turning a shade of red, and his eyes frantically looking anywhere but your eyes.

"I know you said 'no attachment', but-" He attempted to defend himself, yet you didn't hear him.

"And its fine." You smile a bittersweet smile. "Mine call me a loser since I'm just 'a girl you bang on the couch'." You quoted the words you friends claim to have heard in a club the night they met Lando when he was with friends.

"What?" Confusion struck Lando hard, he wanted to claim the absolute opposite, he was just showing off to his friends. But his mouth just bobbed open and closed like a goldfish.

"Do you mind driving me home?" You bittersweet smile remained as you dropped Lando's hand and looked up at him, blaming your slightly watery eyes on the brisk wind.

"No, no problem." Lando's tone of voice was an antithesis of the feeling and the excitement he held earlier.

Two weeks and you found yourself at another diner with Lando's parnets. It had started off well enough. You had dressed to impress, eager to make a good impression on his family (regardless if they knew the placement of yours and Lando's relationship). The restaurant was upscale, the kind of place where you felt the weight of every glance and gesture. Lando had been his usual charming self, but something had shifted when his parents asked about your relationship.

"We're just friends," Lando had said, his tone casual and dismissive. "Nothing intimate."

His words stung, cutting deeper than you had expected. You had managed a tight smile, playing along with the charade, but inside, you felt a rush of bitterness and hurt. To make matters worse, the private moment you and Lando had shared in the bathroom of his apartment earlier now felt like a cheap thrill, devoid of the connection you had been hoping for.

On the car ride home, the silence between you was thick with unspoken tension. Lando glanced at you, his brows furrowed in concern. "You've been quiet," he said, breaking the silence. "What's wrong?"

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your emotions. "Just tired," you replied, forcing a smile. "It's been a long day."

Lando reached over and took your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "I noticed you seemed a bit off after dinner. Are you sure you're okay?"

You nodded, looking out the window to avoid his gaze. "Yeah, just a lot on my mind."

He sighed, his grip on your hand tightening slightly. "I wish you'd talk to me. If something's bothering you, I want to know."

You turned to face him, the frustration bubbling just beneath the surface. "Lando, it's fine. Really. I just need some rest."

His eyes searched yours, looking for a crack in your facade. "Alright," he said softly, though his tone made it clear he wasn't entirely convinced.

As the car rolled to a stop outside your apartment, you felt a sense of relief mixed with the bitterness that had been festering since dinner. You needed space, time to process everything and figure out how to move forward.

"Thanks for the ride," you said, unbuckling your seatbelt.

Lando leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. "Get some rest. We'll talk tomorrow, okay?"

You nodded, managing a small smile. "Okay."

But as you walked up to your apartment, the weight of his words and the reality of your situation settled heavily on your shoulders. You knew you couldn't keep pretending everything was fine. Sooner or later, you would have to confront the truth—both with Lando and with yourself.

A month had passed since you had seen Lando, and silence had settled between you and Lando like an unwelcome guest. You had hoped for more, for the possibility of a real relationship, but the lack of communication had left you feeling uncertain and frustrated.

Unable to bear it any longer, you decided to confront him. You drove to his apartment, your heart pounding with a mix of anger and anticipation. When you arrived, you knocked on the door, the sound echoing in the quiet hallway. A few moments later, Lando opened it, his expression a mixture of surprise and wariness.

"Hey," he said, stepping aside to let you in. He acted as if nothing was wrong or differnt between the two of you.

You walked past him, your movements tense and deliberate. "We need to talk," you said, your voice edged with the frustration that had been building up over the past weeks.

Lando closed the door and turned to face you, concern etched on his face. "What's going on?"

You took a deep breath, trying to keep your emotions in check. "It's hard being casual, Lando. When my favorite bra lives in your dresser. And it's hard being casual when I'm on the phone talking down your sister."

He opened his mouth to respond, but you continued, your voice gaining strength with each word. "I try to be the chill girl that holds her tongue and gives you space. I try to be the chill girl, but honestly, I'm not."

Lando's expression shifted from confusion to realization, his eyes softening with understanding. "I didn't know you felt this way," he said quietly.

His words angered you more than it should've. He sounded sincere but in your inner rage you shook your head, the bitterness in your chest bubbling to the surface. "I fucked you in the bathroom before we went to dinner, your parents at the table. You wonder why I'm bitter? Bragging to your friends, I get off when you hit it. I hate to tell the truth, but I'm sorry, dude, you didn't."

A flush of embarrassment and guilt spread across Lando's face, and he looked down, unable to meet your gaze. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I never meant to hurt you."

"I hate that I let this drag on so long," you said, your voice trembling with the weight of your emotions. "Now I hate myself. Hate that I let this drag on so long. You can go to hell."

You stood there, your heart sinking as Lando's frustration bubbled to the surface. His face twisted in a mix of disbelief and defensiveness, and you could see the hurt in his eyes as he struggled to make sense of your accusations.

"Are you serious?" he repeated, his voice tinged with disbelief. His shoulders slumped, and he ran a hand through his hair in frustration. "Wait, what do you mean I bragged to my friends?"

Your own emotions were a whirlwind, but you held onto your resolve. "I heard it, Lando," you insisted, your voice trembling slightly. "Your friends were talking about us at the club. They said you bragged about us having sex."

Lando's expression hardened, his brows furrowing deeply as he tried to recall any instance where he might have slipped up. "Ask anyone, I've not bragged about our sex life because I was scared that it would ruin my chances in the future!"

"What do you mean 'chances in the future'?" Your confusion mirrored his frustration now, the situation escalating into a confrontation neither of you had expected.

Lando paced back and forth, his agitation evident in every movement. "I mean," he sighed heavily, stopping in his tracks and meeting your gaze with a mixture of regret and resignation, "this isn't how I wanted to tell you."

Your heart sank further, the weight of his words settling heavily on your shoulders. "Tell me what, Lando?"

Lando took a deep breath, his shoulders slumping as he met your gaze with a blend of vulnerability and regret. "I... I really like you," he began slowly, his voice tinged with a hint of desperation. "Love you even, god! I'm sorry I know you didn't want anything serious. Trust me I respect that, I just couldn't help myself."

The pieces began to click into place, understanding dawning on you as you processed his words. "Really?"

Lando nodded, his expression pained. "I know its selfish, I agreed to the conditions when you made them. Its just hard when you are the most caring, gorgeous, funny girl I've ever met."

Your initial anger softened into a feeling of agreement. "Lando, you should have told me," you said softly, your voice laced with sadness and sympathy. "I feel the same way. Did you not get that in the words I threw at you when I practically busted through the door?" You laughed, Lando joining in.

Silence hung heavy between you for a moment, the weight of unspoken words filling the room. Then, Lando took a step closer, closing the distance between you. "Can we... start over?" He asked quietly, searching his eyes for a sign of hope.

Your gaze softened, as a rapid smile grew on your face. "Only if you'll be my boyfriend."

Lando matched his grin to yours, his eyes filled with hope and love as he looked at you and only you. "Only if I can tell my parents that we're not just friends."

"Only if we're not casual."

Please don’t steal my work, much love ᡣ𐭩

taglist: (comment if you wanna be added)

𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃 eveninggstar

[custardandjam]

Something... new? - Goodguyfitz x Reader

~~~~

MASTERLIST : HERE

words: 802 warnings: mentions of sexual stuff- no true smut.

~~~~

The day you met Fitz—or rather, Cameron—was a turning point he felt deep in his core. It was at a mutual friend's house party in Australia, a lively gathering of twenty-somethings immersed in a haze of drugs and alcohol. Amid the chaos, he was instantly drawn to you and, without hesitation, asked you out on a date.

To his surprise, you said yes.

That night took an unexpected turn when he took you to the bathroom in the upstairs en suite. The allure of the spontaneous encounter led to a night of unrestrained passion. Fitz decided then and there that if a relationship wasn’t in the cards, he would at least ensure that the sex was unforgettable. And unforgettable it was—he gave you multiple mind-blowing orgasms, while you delivered a performance that surpassed any he’d experienced.

Fitz was unapologetically proud, bragging to his friends about how the “girl in the bathroom” had given him the best blow job of his life. The tales of that night became legendary among his circle. When Mason expressed interest in sharing the experience, Fitz firmly shut down the idea, refusing to entertain the thought of anyone else experiencing what was, for him, an unparalleled connection.

You met up at least three times a week, with any absences due to travel replaced by an exchange of sexts, nudes, videos, calls, and messages—anything to keep the fire alive. The physical connection was electric, a potent blend of desire and fulfillment, always leaving both of you craving more.

It was no secret that Fitz had feelings for you beyond the physical. He often spoke about wanting to take you out on dates, to show you off, and to share the more intimate parts of his life with you. Despite this, he never took that next step, and you were left puzzled by his reluctance to ask you out formally.

In truth, you couldn't recall ever explicitly agreeing to just sex, but you never brought it up or corrected him. Perhaps the thrill of the forbidden, or the undeniable chemistry between you, kept you from addressing the ambiguity. As the dynamic continued, you were left navigating the complexities of your feelings and his hesitations, all while savouring the intense connection you shared.

Until he called you from Vid-Con, clearly high on something or other. You could tell he was in a bathroom stall by the echoing acoustics and the muffled noises of the event outside. His pupils were dilated, and his speech was slurred, a far cry from the confident and controlled Fitz you were used to.

“Hey,” he mumbled, his voice wavering between excitement and exhaustion. “I… I just needed to hear your voice.” His words tumbled out in a disjointed stream, each syllable punctuated by the occasional erratic chuckle or sigh.

You listened patiently, sensing the vulnerability beneath his altered state. “Cam, are you okay?” you asked gently, concern lacing your voice.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” he replied, though his unsteady tone suggested otherwise. “Just... everything’s crazy here. And, um, I’ve been thinking a lot... about us.” He paused, as if gathering his scattered thoughts. “I don’t know what we are, you know? But I want to figure it out.”

The admission caught you off guard. The intensity of the moment, combined with the haze of his intoxication, created a surreal blend of clarity and confusion. “What do you mean?” you asked, trying to make sense of his ramblings.

He took a deep breath, his voice softening. “I like you, Y/N. More than just… this. I want to be with you, not just in secret. I want to take you out, show you off. I know I’ve been avoiding it, but when I get back… will you go out with me? Like, officially?”

You felt a rush of relief mixed with lingering excitement. The intoxicated confession was raw and unfiltered, revealing the depth of his feelings. “Cam, I’d like that. But I want it to be real, not just a spur-of-the-moment thing.”

“Absolutely,” he said, his voice steadier with determination. “When I get home, I’ll take you out. We’ll do it right. Just... give me a chance to show you what I really mean.”

"Only once chance," You joked to him with a smile.

Fitz chuckled softly, the sound a comforting contrast to his earlier slurred speech. “One chance, huh? I’ll make it count. I promise.”

His voice was filled with genuine sincerity, and you could sense his determination even through the phone. “I’m looking forward to it,” you said, a smile tugging at your lips despite the late hour. “Just make sure you’re sober and ready to impress.”

“Deal,” he replied, a note of excitement in his voice. “I can’t wait to see you and finally show you what I’ve been wanting to all along.”

As the call ended, you felt a renewed sense of anticipation. His promise had finally turned the uncertainty into something tangible.

-

omg first fic on this account :P hope it wasn't disappointing pookies <3

[ivyvenus333]

thinking about fuck buddy!choso who you’ve been hooking up with for the past couple months… but only ever in his car. and yeah, it makes you feel like shit about yourself, but his dick is just too fucking good to give up.

when he finally invites you over to his place, your pussy aches at the thought of having the room for all the godforsaken positions that are impossible in the backseat.

so you’re surprised when he fucks you in missionary the entire night.

his hard, aggressive, and erratic thrusts replaced by deep, tender strokes. the hand that’s normally tightly wrapped around your throat softly caressing your cheek instead. the obscenities, grunting, and dirty talk replaced by him whimpering “baby” and “my pretty girl” repeatedly into the crook of your neck.

and when you realize it’s the first time he’s making love to you, you couldn’t possibly deny his begging to “pleasepleaseplease” let him cum inside your pretty pussy!!

[congratsloserr]

jj is so clever and rafe falls for it everytime it’s too funny😭

illicit affairs - part eight | r.c

summary:

Do not come over here right now, you thought to yourself, pleaded to God even, but of course, JJ walked right over to your table, stopping in front of you to bow theatrically. You could basically see Rafe’s vein throbbing in anger.

“Boss, can I get you anything?”

“I wasn’t aware you’re on her payroll, Maybank,” Rafe snapped, falling into your words before you could even open your mouth, glaring up at JJ.

“Oh didn’t you hear? She’s the one who got me this job,” JJ said gleefully and you groaned internally as Rafe drew his arm back, raising his brows at you.

“You did what?”

OR; The Spring Fling is finally here. And of course, no event on Kildare goes off without a hitch

pairing: rafe cameron x reader

warnings: none except for one macho context between Rafe and JJ lol

word count: 2,6k

author's note: hello don't ask what this is and don't yell at me bc i literally just wrote what the little people in my head told me to write (I think it's funny when you say that i'm making you insane, im telling you, im just equally as shook as im writing)

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

pt. eight: "and clandestine meetings and longing stares"

“When did you and Rafe start having sex?”

You nearly spat your mimosa all over the table, but opted for choking on it instead, coughing as the liquid went down the wrong pipe. Out of everything, Topper chose to ask you that question during brunch at the Spring Fling party, where you were surrounded by Kook families. But you should’ve known.

Topper’s mother was anything if not punctual and she had turned up not even a minute after 11. Rafe and Kelce were set to come later during the brunch, this was the perfect opportunity to ask something like that and Topper knew it.

Reaching for a napkin, you tried to keep your coughs to a minimum when your mother gave you a dirty look from her table. Consequently, you turned to Topper to give him an equally nasty look.

“Top, what the fuck?”

Topper only sent your mother a charming smile, raising his glass in her direction until she turned away with a headshake.

“Sorry, were the two of you trying to be discreet?” he then asked, glancing in your direction as he took a sip from his champagne. You let out a scoff, downing your mimosa in one go, your cheeks burning. Playing with the stem of the glass nervously, you took your time with an answer, knowing that Topper was sensible enough to not push you.

“How long have you known?”

Topper sighed, pushing his hair back at your evasive question. “Remember when we were hanging out at Rafe’s like three days ago? I left my wallet on the table and came back inside, just to hear the two of you going at it.”

You groaned, covering your face with your hands. Of course. You had told Rafe to wait after Topper and Kelce left. For ten minutes at least, just to be safe; but then he started kissing your neck and your self-control flew out of the window. Asshole.

Topper eyed you skeptically, and you didn’t say anything, except a thank you to the waiter when he placed a new mimosa in front of you. Topper played with the corner of the tablet cloth, waiting until the waiter left before he spoke again.

“So… You what? Just fuck around?” he asked, frowning. “You’re willing to risk your friendship for sex?”

“We’re not risking our friendship, Top. We’re adults and we can have sex without complicated feelings, and if it ever starts to get weird, we just stop,” you told him, ignoring the fact that you had been questioning your friendship just last week. Topper didn’t need to know that.

He only exhaled, taking another sip of his champagne. The silence between the two of you stretched so long, you started to believe he had dropped the topic.

“Maybe we should hook up too.”

You nearly choked on your mimosa again, but you managed to swallow it this time, before turning to stare at Topper with wide eyes, your forehead creased.

“Ew what?”

Topper raised a brow at you. “What?”

“Why would you even say that? We’ve been friends forever, don’t be gross.”

“So have you and Rafe but you don’t have any problem fucking him.”

You bristled at his choice of words, turning away from him, frowning into the distance, knowing exactly what point he was trying to make. You had always wondered if Topper ever suspected that you had feelings for Rafe, but chose not to ask you about it. Until now.

“What’s your point?” you finally griped.

Topper gave you an exasperated look. “Seriously precious? You know this isn’t gonna end well. And it won’t just affect you and Rafe, it’s gonna affect me als Kelce, too. How the fuck are we supposed to choose sides if you’re our best friends?”

“What do you mean “choose sides”?” you huffed, throwing your hands up. “We’re adults, and we’re friends, best friends. Nothing is ever going to change that.”

“Do you really believe that?”

You sighed, rolling your eyes mostly to deflect. Topper had a point. This had potential to explode in all of your faces, have catastrophic consequences, and why? Because you were selfish? You’d risk your friendship with your best friend to have only a tiny more piece of Rafe, something that you weren’t entitled to? Clenching your jaw, you reached out to pat Topper’s hand gently, trying to find the right words, to take his worries away, but before you could, you saw Rafe arriving with Kelce and his family and you leaned back in your chair, glancing at Topper.

“Drop it,” you muttered under your breath, throwing him a warning glance, terrified that Rafe could overhear something.

The other half of your friend group approached your table, both of the boys kissing your cheek in greeting, before Kelce took a seat next to Topper, while Rafe sat down on the empty chair next to you.

“What did we miss?” Rafe asked, holding up two fingers to the waiter before turning to you, raising a brow.

Topper opened his mouth, no doubt to let out a stupid comment, but you stepped your foot on his, making sure that the heel only grazed the top of his shoe, warning him. Topper’s face contorted into pain, and he glared at you. Luckily, neither Kelce or Rafe noticed your squabble, as the waiter arrived with your drinks, placing four flutes of champagne and mimosas on the table.

“Just how precious over here stumbled over her words when she introduced her parents,” he said, making you roll your eyes. Kelce snickered and Rafe only smirked into his glass as he took a sip. Reaching for a new glass, you picked a glass by the stem, only to realize that Rafe had thrown his arm over your chair when you leaned back. You grew hot, which was stupid considering the fact that Rafe has always been touchy with you even before you two started having sex, but you couldn’t help but feel like you were showing your emotions all over your face. Throwing a glance over to Topper, you thought he’d show his disapproval, but he was engrossed in a discussion with Kelce over his new bike. If he had noticed, he hadn’t shown.

“Told you to practice, didn’t I precious?” Rafe muttered under his breath, the amusement clear in his voice. You only rolled your eyes, crossing your legs as you sipped on your mimosa. Things between you were… Almost normal. After the rather odd intimate moment you had in the shower and then in bed, it felt like Rafe had… Not exactly taken a step back when it came to sex, but you definitely felt like he was trying to show you how he valued your friendship more sex.

For example, when you were trying to come up with some sort of speech for the spring fling

“The way I recall it, I was practicing and you told me to “wing it” because “writing a speech is lame””, you said, quoting him.

Rafe snickered, taking a sip of his champagne. “You did a great job helping your parents pull this shit off,” he told you, his thumb drawing circles into your shoulder. You didn’t reply, swirling the mimosa in your glass around as Rafe glanced around the garden, before he did a double take, his eyes narrowing.

“What the fuck is JJ Maybank doing here?”

Three tables over, JJ was pouring Mr. Jones a glass of Champagne, the heavy bottle nearly slipping out of his fingers before he got a grip on it again. He only gave Mr. Jones a charming smile, you had no doubt he had some quip right on his tongue. You squirmed on your chair, finishing your mimosa in one go (was someone counting how many mimoas you’d had already?), shoving the empty glass on the table.

“Working, obviously,” you answered somewhat evasively. “Can’t you see that he’s wearing an uniform?”

“Obviously I can see that,” Rafe huffed, giving you a look. “I meant, how did he get a job here? I know for a fact that Kennedy hates his guts.”

Right, Kennedy the hostess.

“Why does Kennedy hate his guts again?”

“He said Carter’s name during sex,” Kelce suddenly chimed in, leaning over Topper to engage in the gossip session you were apparently having. You winced. Kennedy and Carter were sisters, you could see why Kennedy couldn’t stand JJ (anymore).

“To be fair, they’re twins, so I can understand how JJ mixed them up.”

“Why are you defending him?”

“I’m not!” you exclaimed. “I’m just saying, it’s an easy mistake to make.”

Rafe huffed, rolling his eyes with a headshake, clearly annoyed. You didn’t understand how he was so easily aggravated by pogues, especially JJ. Topper only gave you a look when you glanced over at him, while Kelce was too busy ogling JJ.

JJ, who had seemed to spot your group, judging by the way a smirk was growing on his lips. He leaned down to finish topping off the guests glasses, before departing from the table.

Do not come over here right now, you thought to yourself, pleaded to God even, but of course, JJ walked right over to your table, stopping in front of you to bow theatrically. You could basically see Rafe’s vein throbbing in anger.

“Boss, can I get you anything?”

“I wasn’t aware you’re on her payroll, Maybank,” Rafe snapped, falling into your words before you could even open your mouth, glaring up at JJ.

“Oh didn’t you hear? She’s the one who got me this job,” JJ said gleefully and you groaned internally as Rafe drew his arm back, raising his brows at you.

“You did what?” he asked incredulously. You rolled your eyes at his tone. He made it sound like you just betrayed his trust.

“He needed a job, what’s the harm in helping him out?”

“He’s a pogue,” Rafe all but spit out. “When the fuck did you even talk to him?”

“Last week after you guys left, he kind of broke into my house.”

“Accidentally!” “Wait what?” “He did what?”

You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Can we not make a big deal out of this?”

Rafe scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest, JJ only smirked in satisfaction, Kelce was staring at you with an open mouth and Topper looked like he’d rather be anywhere else.

“Well, if you gentlemen don’t need anything else,” JJ said, looking at you. “Another drink, princess?”

“Don’t call her that.”

Just as you thought you’d avoided a full blown fight, Rafe was glaring daggers at JJ again, who just seemed to enjoy getting a rise out of your best friend and using you to do it.

“I think she can tell me herself if she doesn’t want me to call her princess.”

Rafe got up so fast, you could barely react before he was all up in JJ’s space, a frown on his face.

“Who do you think you are, parading around our side of the island?” Rafe hissed into JJ’s face, but the blonde barely blinked at him, his smirk never leaving his face. Meanwhile, you wanted the ground to open up and swallow you whole, pressing yourself into your chair, hoping to disappear. You were just as angry as you were embarrassed, knowing how Rafe was causing a scene, making the other guests starting to look over; especially your mother, who was glaring at you as if you had instigated this.

“Guys,” Topper finally hissed. “This is not the right place for a pissing contest.”

Rafe took a step back, as if out of a trance. He flexed his hand, throwing JJ a dirty look. “Get lost, Maybank.”

Lucky for you, he did, but not without winking at you before he left. Rafe dropped back into his chair, and for a short second, you thought the whole party was ruined, but everyone quickly started chatting again, the incident forgotten.

“The nerve of that guy,” Rafe grunted, as if his behavior just now was insanely stupid. You only scoffed, shaking your head at him, and he glanced over at you, raising a brow.

“What?”

“You’re unbelievable,” you muttered under your breath, snatching your purse off the table, standing up quickly. Without excusing yourself, you left your friends at the table, heading straight to the bathroom to cool off. You exhaled slowly as you washed your hands, letting the cold water run over your wrists, not caring that you were getting your jewelry wet. When you finally deemed it enough. you turned the water off, drying your hands with paper towels. But you weren’t ready to go back out just yet, so you rummaged through your purse, trying to find your lipgloss to reapply. Just as you were about to put the small applicator on your lips, the door opened, and Rafe slid inside with a frown.

“Get out,” you said, even before the door shut properly.

“You can’t seriously be mad at me,” Rafe guffawed, his jaw slack. “That little shit was walking around like he owned the country club.”

You rolled your eyes at him so hard, you nearly gave yourself a migraine.

“So what? What does it matter to you, Rafe? Why can’t you just ignore him?”

“Why are you acting like this is my fault?! He started it!”

“You’re my best friend! You embarrassed me!”

“Embarr-” Rafe scoffed, breaking off with a headshake. “Did you hear how he was talking to you? He called you princess! He made you give him a job.”

“He made me?” you repeated, laughing dryly, finally lowering the lipgloss to look at him, your eyes sparkling with fury. “Do you realize who you’re talking to right now, Rafe? No one is making me do anything, least of all JJ. I’m not some damsel who needs saving, don’t use me to win whatever cock measuring contest you have going on with JJ.”

Rafe froze, and you let your words sink in, dropping your lipgloss back into your purse and zipping it back up. He finally sighed, running a hand through his hair.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly, his lips pursed. You looked at him, unimpressed. “I don’t know why, but JJ just gets under my skin. And it just made it worse when he treated you like that.”

“Like what?” you said, blinking at him. “Like he treats every other girl on the island?”

Rafe scoffed, leaning against the wall behind him. “You’re not like every other girl on the island, precious.”

“Rafe, I can take care of myself.”

“I know, I’m sorry.”

You let out a sigh, the remaining anger melting away and you stepped to him, stopping just in front of him.

“How about I tell JJ where to shove it, and you sit back and shut up?”

Rafe quirked a smile at you, rolling his eyes a little. “I can try.”

You gave him a look and he let out a loud, dramatic sigh.

“Fine, I won’t say anything, I’m leaving it to you.”

“Better,” you said with a nod, making a shooing motion with your hand. “Now get out before people are starting to think we’re hooking up in here.”

“Now that you brought it up-”

“Rafe, get out.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

author's note: not me being proud of Kennedy/Carter (guess what their parents (me) named them after)

[yuwuta]

friends with benefits with nanami wouldn’t work because he would think you deserve better. you think your arrangement is going well, kento has never complained before, and you’re certainly more than satisfied in bed. he’s handsome, strong, kind, generous with aftercare, and really fucking good with his mouth, so there are no complaints on your end. which is why it’s such a surprise to you when kento confesses that he doesn’t like the way he’s been treating you, and no matter how much you insist that it’s fine, and reassure him that he treats you more than well enough, he refuses. 

“but kento, i’m okay with this,” you attempt to convince him that hooking up is enough—he doesn’t need to feel like he has to do more for you, “you’re good to me, and not just in bed. please don’t feel like you owe me more.” 

“you deserve something proper,” he’s adamant, shaking his head, “you deserve more than convenient sex.” 

“but what if this is all i want?” you can’t help but to tease him. he looks awfully cute with his arms crossed, respectful refusal written all over his face, “i think eating me out on a weekly basis is quite enough, it would just be greedy for me to ask for more, don’t you think?” 

your jokes don’t amuse him, but his expression keeps you giggling. still, nanami sighs, and grumbles, “you should want more. it’s not greedy.”

“kento, if i didn’t know any better, i’d think you’re telling me to raise my standards.”

he blinks, cheeks pink with irritation and eyes hollow with tiredness. you push every single one of his buttons and he doesn’t know why, but he would never stop you. maybe that’s where this impeding guilt is coming from—kento likes you, and he doesn’t enjoy feeling like he’s using you, even if you get to use him in return. he doesn’t want your relationship to be transactional, and he doesn’t like that you think such a relationship is okay. 

because, guilt aside, kento knows he wants more of you; he wants all of you. and even if you don’t want him back, he thinks you should know that you’re worth having all of, and nothing less. 

“maybe i am,” he settles, “you are worth more than an occasional hookup. you should be treated better than this, and i am sorry that i have let it go on for this long.”

“this is ridiculous—you’re nothing but good to me! and i like having sex with you. if you don’t want to have sex with me anymore, that’s fine, but—”

“i didn’t say that,” he interrupts. 

“so… you do wanna keep sleeping with me?” 

“yes. but we should go on a date before we continue.” 

“but what if our date is terrible. do we still get to have post-first date sex?” 

he shakes his head, stepping closer to you and holding your forearms before leaning down to kiss your forehead, “i don’t put out on the first date.”

you scoff, taking a half-step closer, snaking your arms around his torso, and grinning up at him, “what a prude.”

at that he smiles, before bending his neck to indulge you in one last kiss. “i’ll pick you up at seven.” 

[ellecdc]

The Bolter

Sirius Black x fem!reader who meet again [5.5k words]

prompt: poly!wolfstar or just Sirius x reader in which they were friends with benefits but it was obvious they loved each other even though they acted like they weren’t. Then, reader finds out shes pregnant and before telling them, they do something stupid. so reader runs away for a few months. When she comes back (only bc she had to for some reason) shes like 6-7 months pregnant

CW: secret pregnancy, angst, FWB to strangers to lovers, second chance fic, post war trauma, both Sirius and reader are meeesssssssssssyyyyy in this! I don't approve of what they've done but I understand it

“So…she’s coming back?” Sirius asked cautiously, focusing more on the condensation pooling on the coaster underneath his pint than the concerned gazes of his two best friends. 

“Well, I don’t know if she’s coming back, but she’ll be here for Harry’s birthday.” James mollified, sharing a nervous look with Remus.

“Right.” Sirius murmured around a swallow; throat tight and dry though neither the pint nor the pitcher of water in front of him looked as though they’d be able to help him with the matter. 

“Are you going to be alright?” Remus queried, and Sirius offered him the most arrogant scoff he could muster; he missed by a long shot.

“Of course I’m going to be alright.” He huffed. “Why? Can’t two friends see each other after five and a half months of silence?” 

“Sirius-” James started, but Sirius carried on. 

“She’s the only one who’s been silent, you know?” Though he knew that they did indeed both know. “I’ve tried. I’ve tried reaching out.” 

“Pads.” Remus offered consolingly, looking frustratingly like he was going to reach a hand out to Sirius as if he were some over tired toddler on the brink of a meltdown.

“Stop, no I- I’m fine, honest.” He insisted as he took a steadying breath. “I- you… talked to her, then?”

James and Remus shared another look before James allowed the segue. 

“Mostly by owl, but she has spoken on the phone with Lily a few times.” 

Sirius nodded as he considered this; considered the number of owls Sirius had sent that had gone unanswered - perhaps even unopened if the silence meant anything at all.

“She’s…okay?” 

Remus let out a sigh as he shot Sirius a tight smile that looked more like a grimace. “She’s…vague.”

“She doesn’t share a whole lot.” James agreed. “Says she’s fine, things are good. Mostly asks about…all of us, Harry.” 

“She’s still staying with that great aunt,” Remus added, “helping her with the property.” 

“She seeing anyone?” There was no point in pretending that wasn’t the most pressing matter in Sirius’ mind; of course it was. And as angry and bitter as the idea made Sirius, it would have been his own fault, his own doing. He had no one to blame but himself. 

And he’d have to live the rest of his life knowing he was the one who let you slip away - pushed you away - right into the arms of someone else. 

“Not that she’s mentioned.” Remus responded honestly; he couldn’t say for sure that you weren’t, but if you were, you clearly hadn’t said anything about it. 

“Right.” Sirius offered shortly. 

“Pads, I…we would understand if it's too hard for you to see her. If you can’t come-”

“Don’t be daft.” Sirius scoffed deploringly. “I’m not going to miss my godson’s birthday. If anyone should be missing it, it should be her; I’ve been here for the past four and a half months, she’s the one who fucked off for good.”

“Sirius-”

“I don’t understand why you had to invite her!” Sirius shouted then, startling even himself when he realised how breathless he sounded all of a sudden. 

James smiled at him sadly; Sirius wished he’d stop doing that. “We wanted all of Harry’s uncles and his aunt to be there, Sirius…it’s important, yeah? We…we almost didn’t get this chance.”

Sirius could feel a wicked migraine coming on; between talking about you, the close calls and the fact that the group of you were all alive following the war by nothing but chance, and the fact that the person Sirius was most angry with was himself, he downed the rest of his pint and flagged the server in favour of having to look at the pitiful gazes being shot at him by Remus and James.

Sirius couldn’t tell if he was eager for Harry’s second birthday or dreading it. But like it or not, Sirius was going to be seeing you again. 

It had felt like a good idea at the time.

It felt beyond foolish now, but it had felt like a good idea at the time. 

*ೃ༄.ೃ࿐

“Sirius, we just won. We just won, why do you have to leave now?” You practically begged as you followed Sirius through his flat. 

“Because if I don’t get out now, I’m going to be stuck here for eternity.” He all but spat at you as he shoved articles of clothing into his duffle rather haphazardly. You felt like grabbing the bag from him and folding them properly if the act wouldn’t leave you feeling like you were aiding and abetting his abandoning you.

“But what about James? And Remus? What about Harry? You fought this war for them, and they for you - we just got them back!”

“And they’ll be here when I’m ready to come home!” Sirius shouted; turning to look at you with wild, red rimmed eyes. 

“What about me?” You asked quietly, hating how small you sounded.

“What about you?” He asked; face falling painfully neutral. If you didn’t know better, you would have thought he was occluding. 

“I…I don’t know.” You started awkwardly, shrugging one shoulder. “I thought…maybe we’d have a chance now. To try?.”

“Y/N.” Sirius sighed as he rubbed harshly at his eyes; entire being oozed exhaustion at having to have this conversation with you. “Have I not been entirely clear about what this was between us?” 

“Right.” You agreed quickly, biting roughly on your lip and looking anywhere but at him as he let his hand fall away from his face. 

“It’s…it’s not you, doll-” but even your humourless scoff didn’t derail him “I’m not the kind to settle down and be content I- I wouldn’t be enough for you.”

“I’m not asking you for any more than what we have, Sirius-”

“Yes you are.”

“-I just want you to stay.”

“That’s too much for me.” He stated; his voice never raised though he may as well have screamed it at you. “I cannot sit here and play house, I cannot be that guy for you.”

“Cannot or will not?” You asked quietly, regretting the question the second it came out of your mouth and he looked at you with nothing but pity in his eyes. 

“Y/N…”

“I’m sorry I asked.” You let out with a chuckle as you harshly wiped tears from under your eyes. 

“It’s…it’s not forever, yeah? I just…I can’t see myself being happy here…not right now, at least; not for a while.” 

“Where will you go?” Your voice grated painfully as it came out, but you tried to keep an air of nonchalance about you. You wouldn’t look at him, but you could see his shoulders shrug helplessly. 

“I don’t know…everywhere. Anywhere.”

Anywhere was better than stuck here with you, apparently. 

“I hope it’s nice, wherever it is.” You offered, and you found that you meant it. As much as it hurt to say, you really, really meant it. Sirius had been fighting and running his entire life, and he finally won. If he wanted to celebrate his victory by taking off to be that rich, vague uncle who popped by with lavish gifts every so often, who were you to deny him? 

You loved him.

You were in love with him.

You loved him enough to let him go. 

*ೃ༄.ೃ࿐

He had sent James a postcard a few weeks later. Turns out he started in the South of France; his family had a home there that had been left untouched by the war, and Sirius was going to start by figuring out what to do with the property. 

And you? Well, you found out you were pregnant. 

You suppose it was a small mercy that Sirius wasn’t here to know; you’re sure it would have hurt more hearing him tell you he was leaving if there were two of you he couldn’t find it in him to love. You would have hated it even more if he felt trapped into staying with you just for this.

But all this meant was that you couldn’t stay, either. 

You supposed that was alright, though; the life you wanted to build here was with Sirius. You loved your friends, but you had a little one to think about now, too. 

You made up a story about a great aunt needing help tending to her property and wishing to be closer to your relatives now that you could be, now that it was safe. No one questioned it, likely because Remus had done the same following the war; moving back home to help his dad and ailing mother tend the property in whatever ways he could. 

You found yourself a little cottage, you wrote to the boys and had the occasional phone call with Lily, and you grew.

It had felt like a good idea at the time. 

But now you were almost six months pregnant and returning home for the first time since you moved to celebrate your nephew’s birthday with all of your closest friends, the love of your life whose child you were carrying, and none of them knew. 

You wondered if you should even go, but the thought of missing out on sweet Harry’s second birthday that the lot of you almost never got the chance to see made your throat constrict with tears you refused to shed since the war. 

You wondered if you should tell everyone before you arrived, but the thought of them all discussing you and your pregnancy without you being there left you feeling small and ashamed. 

You wondered if you should tell Sirius, but you looked over at the stack of unopened letters he had sent to you in the past four months - the first thin, perhaps a postcard, the second and third were thicker, the fourth was by far the thickest (like he had drafted an autobiography that he wanted you to proofread for him), the fifth was similar to the second, whilst the sixth (the last) couldn’t be more than one page - and wondered how the hell you’d even start that conversation after all this time.

Hey, remember me? Yeah, the bird who caught feelings during our friends with benefits situation that we both agreed would remain platonic amidst a battle for survival and then begged you to stay with no success? Well, whilst you’ve been off probably shagging every beautiful woman across the British Isles, I’ve been pregnant. Right, with your child. How was France, by the way? 

You swallowed around your gag reflex and groaned at your image in the mirror. You put on a pair of gingham pants with the baggiest band-tee you could find, planned on sucking in the best you could if anyone (when everyone) insisted on a hug and hoped to every deity that they all just assumed you’d been eating really well since the end of the war. 

You smoothed the fabric over your bump one last time before you left - looking at the proof that, if nothing else, you were protecting more than just yourself, and you let that be enough - before you grabbed Harry’s birthday present and called for Potter Manor, throwing a fistfull of floo powder into your fireplace and travelling by way of the flames. 

You could hear Harry squealing in delight in one of the adjacent rooms as you stepped into the floo reception room at Potter Manor; a smile taking over your face uninhibitedly at the sounds of the people you loved more than life itself, happy and celebrating.

How could you have gone so long without this? 

“Y/N!” Lily shrieked as she made for you, and you sucked in before returning her hug. “Merlin, you're glowing! Where’s your aunt's place again?” 

“Erm. Killarney.” You offered; not entirely untrue - you did have an aunt in Killarney. 

“Well,” she let out with a breath, eyes turning a touch glassy as they darted across your face, “it seems that Irish air’s been for you.” 

You smiled back at your friend before pulling her back in for another hug. “I’ve missed you, Lils.”

“Don’t let it go so long next time, yeah? We can come to you, too; I’m teaching James how to be a muggle, and Harry’s only had the odd burst of accidental magic yet. We could play the part in front of your aunt.” 

“I’d love that, Lily.” You responded earnestly. 

“Y/N!” James hollered then before you were being bodily tackled by the former quidditch chaser, a brief flash of anxiety at his hold around your stomach abating only when he relinquished his hold on you. “Where in the sodding hell have you been!?”

“Killarney.” Lily answered for you. 

“I love Killarney!” 

“Have you ever been to Killarney, Prongs?” Remus asked then, appearing in the door as he leaned against the archway. 

“No! But I love it there! I just know it!” 

“Hey Moony.” You greeted, quickly accepting his open arms and breathing him in.

“We’ve missed you.” He murmured into your hair, and you couldn’t help the traitorous hitch in your heart that he might’ve meant-

“Uncle Pafoo!” Harry squealed, suddenly standing right underneath you. 

“That’s right, Haz!” The voice that haunts your dreams called out. “Auntie is here!”

“Hullo, Harry!” You cheered as you picked him up, sucking in before settling on your hip. “Happy birthday, little dude.” 

“Am two!” He announced as he held up four fingers. 

“You are two! Way to go!” You laughed. “Is everyone here?” You asked the room, shooting Sirius a tight smile so you couldn’t be accused of hostility when your heart stuttered for an entirely different reason. 

He looked tired - a bone deep tired that no amount of sleep could rectify - and the bags under his eyes seemed to be chronic. But he was still so beautiful; his hair had grown slightly longer since the last time you’d seen it, the last time you’d run your fingers through it, the last time you’d brought sheers to it, and he donned more than a few new tattoos if the few you could see were enough to go by. 

You had to look away.

“Reg’s going to be by after work; his part-time student called in sick so he needed to be there to close the shop himself. Thankfully, they’re only open in the morning on Sunday’s.” Remus explained kindly.

“Good, it’ll be nice to see him.” You offered, and the room fell slightly awkward.

“Uncle Pafoo, aeroplane?” Harry asked then, and whatever exhaustion seemed to be plaguing Sirius vanished as he beamed at his godson. 

“Absolutely, little man!” He agreed, holding his arms out and taking Harry’s weight from you.

“Do you want something to drink, Y/N? Wine? Beer, Cider? Juice? Water?” James rapid fire, causing Lily to groan. 

“We just got her back, Potter. Do try to control yourself.” 

“Water would be great, Jamie. Thank you.” You laughed, following the group into the open concept kitchen-to-living room. 

Save the fact that you and Sirius seemed to be doing acrobatics to avoid each other, you were almost stunned at how easy and natural being back here felt. Regulus returned and the two of you shared friendly jibes, Lily caught you up on all of the drama at the Ministry, James strong armed you into agreeing to join them for their next pub quiz night, and Remus said that your old professors all wished you well. 

You loved your cottage - the home you’d built for yourself and your little one - but you found yourself feeling homesick for here, and you hadn’t even left yet.

You were leaning on your elbows against the kitchen island, watching Sirius and Regulus pretend to be knights in shining armour as they fought off a fire breathing dragon (Harry) to save the princess (James) when Remus appeared beside you and mirrored your stance. 

“It’s not the same without you, you know?” He murmured then. 

“But they seem to be alright.” You responded simply, and Remus allowed the two of you to fall into silence for a few beats.

“How far along are you?” 

You stood up straight and turned to stare at him in horror, only to see him smiling kindly at you. 

“How do you-”

“Lycanthropy - I could smell it on you.” He said with an embarrassed wrinkle of his nose. “I knew Lily was pregnant before she did.”

You shushed him and looked over your shoulder to ensure no one else could hear you.

“Come.” He said with a sigh, gently taking you by the elbow and ushering you out of the sliding doors to the back yard and closing it behind the two of you. 

“Remus-”

“Is it his?” He cut you off; his face held no judgement though perhaps just a touch of concern. For you or his best friend/virtual brother-in-law, you weren’t sure.

“Yes.” You whispered, not bothering to clarify who he was talking about; you both knew. 

Remus simply nodded as he looked you over. “Is that why you left?”

“He left first.” You hissed petulantly.

“He left you, but you left all of us.” Remus countered somewhat sternly. “Besides, I didn’t ask about him; is this why you left?”

“Yes.”

“Why?” 

“Because, Remus!” You shouted, tears flooding your vision as you turned to look at him. “Because he didn’t want to be here. He didn’t want this, he didn’t want me. I wasn’t going to force him to come back just because… just because.” 

“Don’t you think he should have been able to make that choice for himself?” Remus asked gently.

“He chose! He did choose! He told me he couldn’t play house, he told me he couldn’t be this person for me. I loved him enough to accept that. I loved him enough to let him go.”

“Loved?” Remus asked with a tilt of his head. “Past tense?” 

“Remus.” You groaned. “Please.”

“He came back for you, you know.” Remus pointed out. “He left you, you left us, but he came back for you.” 

“Stop it.”

“It’s true, Y/N.”

“And so what if it is?” You nearly sobbed. “So what if he did, Remus? What can I do? I can’t go back in time and change my mind, I can’t go back and fix this. He made choices, I made choices, and here we are.” 

Remus heaved a sigh and looked at you sadly. “I don't think either of you realise that your choices don’t have to remain permanent; there can be an expiration date on them.” 

You were catching your breath from your mini temper tantrum when you heard the glass door slide open, both you and Remus turning to see Sirius standing there almost shy - far shier than you’d ever seen him before.  

“Just talk to him? Okay? You..don’t have to tell him now, just…talk to him.” Remus whispered before heading towards the door, clapping Sirius on the back before disappearing back into the house. 

“Hey.” Sirius offered cautiously after a few beats of silence, coming to stand beside you as the two of you looked over the railing of the patio to the rest of the manor grounds. 

“Hey.” You returned dumbly, clearing your throat before continuing. “You…you look good, Sirius.”

Sirius scoffed, and you could feel your shoulder rising before you saw him smirk at you - if not somewhat sadly - cutting you a playful glare from the corner of his eye. “Did you take up lying there in Ireland?” 

You let out a breathy half-laugh. “I’m not lying.” 

“Then you need glasses. I look like shite.”

“You look tired.” You amended. 

“I’m exhausted.” He agreed, and the two of you lapsed into silence. 

“You look good, though.” He continued. “Healthy.”

You hummed in agreement. “Funny what not having to run on rations and broken hours of sleep on military cots does for a person.”

“Why haven’t I heard from you, Y/N?” He blurted then, turning his entire body to face you. 

“Sirius, I-”

“Everyone else has. You’ve spoken to Lily on the phone. James and Remus have gotten letters. Even Reg got a postcard for his birthday.” 

“I’m sorry.” Was all you could manage to say.

“I wrote to you.” He continued. “Letters, a lot. Did you get them?”

You nodded your head yes shamefully.

“Did you read them?”

You felt your heart splinter at how hopeful and heartbroken he sounded over it. You felt like scum of the earth when you shook your head no, and he let out a sigh.

“I guess that makes me feel a little bit better, then.” He said as he lit a cigarette and took a deep drag. 

You found yourself taking a step away from him when you asked “why does that make you feel better?”

He let out a humourless laugh that forced smoke from his lips. “At least now I know that my begging for a second chance, begging you to come home, professing my love for you isn’t what kept you away.”

“Sirius-”

“I messed up, Y/N.” He declared earnestly. “I…I was fucking scared, terrified. I’d spent so much of my life living with one foot on the threshold of hell that after the war, I didn’t know how to live amongst the undead.”

He took a moment to catch his breath as if he’d run all the way here just to tell you something. “And I ran. I bolted, I…”

“You left.” You finished for him. 

“I left.” He agreed. “I… I didn’t know, Y/N.”

“Didn’t know what?” You asked as you choked back tears.

“Didn’t know what I had, or what I wanted. Or that I had everything that I wanted.”

“And you do, now? You know what you want?” You asked, and a look of determination painted his features as he met your gaze head on.

“For my entire life, I had never known what family meant, so I wasn’t even aware that I’d created my own with all of you until I’d risked it all. I was so sure I didn’t want to be like my parents that I never realised I may actually…want to be a parent someday. I was so sure I didn’t want to be my father that I never realised I actually did want to be a partner someday. I was so certain I’d never know what true love felt like that I didn’t even realise I had it right here all along with you.” 

“Sirius-”

“I messed up. I left. But what I don’t understand is why you did. Or why you stayed away.” He took a step towards you with his cigarette long forgotten in one of his hands, the ash threatening to burn his fingers before you plucked it and stubbed it out on the stone railing. He barely flinched. “Why’d you go?”

“I didn’t want to sit around and wait for you, Sirius. I- it hurt, I was hurt. And then-”

“I’m sorry.” He offered quickly, but you shook your head.

“I’m not telling you this for you to be sorry, I just-”

“I came back for you.”

“But it wasn’t just about me anymore, Sirius!” You shouted then, and you watched his brows furrow before his face fell in horror. 

“You’re seeing someone.” He asked, though he phrased it as more of a statement; like he’d been expecting it.

“I’m not seeing anyone, Sirius.” You sighed.

“Then why’d you leave? Why’d you stay away?”

“Because I’m pregnant.” You blurted, and Sirius fell silent. “I’m almost six months pregnant.”

“Six-” He started, eyes falling to your stomach still hidden behind the baggy article of clothing before you smoothed the fabric over your ever rounding bump. “Six months. Six…”

You let him do the maths in the head as he stared hard at your stomach like he was sitting in divination and it was a crystal ball that might just give him the answers if only he stared at it long enough.

“It’s mine?” He finally concluded.

“Yes.” You whispered.

“It’s mine. You’re pregnant, it’s mine.” He murmured, before his eyes met yours again. “You’re pregnant with my child?”

“Right.” You agreed, and he crumpled to a heap on the floor. 

“Sirius Orion Black,” Sirius heard Remus hiss, clearly hovering somewhere over him, “I swear to Godric if you do not wake up and eat some of this godsdamned vanilla cake you bought, your brother is going to skin you alive.” 

“It’s true.” James agreed from somewhere on Sirius’ other side. “He actually ran to the store when he found out you bought vanilla because he knew Remus wouldn’t eat any of it. Remus is going to get his chocolate cake, and you’re going to get egged.” 

“Shut up.” Sirius hissed as he scrunched his eyes closed. “Fuck.”

“How do you feel, mate?” James asked rather jovially as he clapped him roughy on the shoulder.

“Like hell.”

“Why’s that?” Remus joined in.

“Because I was in the middle of a dream and you sods woke me up going on about cake.” He muttered as he opened his eyes, realising then that he’d been propped up on a number of cushions in one of Lily and James’ spare rooms.

“S’he awake?” Lily whispered, and Sirius craned his neck to see you and Lily poke your heads into the room.

“Oh my gods.” Sirius breathed as he sat up, likely far too fast for someone who fell unconscious mere moments ago. “Oh my gods, you’re actually here?” 

“Did you hit your head, mate?” James asked as he prodded at Sirius’ head, causing Sirius to swat his arms away as he shifted towards the edge of the bed.

“You’re here.” He whispered as you slowly made your way into the room.

“I’m here.” You offered cautiously, eyes darting around at your oldest friends like there might be some secret threat lurking in the room.

“You’re pregnant…” He tried then, punching the air right out of Lily and James who both spun to stare at you in shock.

You smoothed the fabric of your shirt over your midsection again to expose a very obvious (now that everyone could actually see it) baby bump. 

“Oh my gods!” Lily and James chorused, causing Remus to snort.

“You knew, didn’t you!?” Lily accused Remus who held his hands up in surrender. 

“Only when she walked in, and not a second sooner.” 

“With my child.” Sirius continued, and you nodded at him. 

“Y/N.” Lily winced. “You-”

“You sodding scared me!” You shrilled then, grabbing one of the throw pillows James had dumped onto the ground to make room for Sirius and swinging it at him.

“I scared you!?” Sirius shrieked right back, much to the delight of Harry who started banging on the throw pillow that had landed beside him. 

“I thought I killed you!”

“Oh, well I’m terribly sorry that finding out the woman I’ve been in love with for years and pining hopelessly over for months - who was missing for all intents and purposes, may I remind you - is pregnant with my child happened to be a little shocking.” Sirius sneered sarcastically. 

“Well I only went ‘missing’ because the man I’ve been hopelessly in love with for years and pining hopelessly over for months took off an-” The abrupt end of your statement nearly gave the room whiplash as you cut yourself off mid sentence and stared at Sirius like you’d never seen him before. 

“What…what just happened?” James whispered carefully.

“Years?” You whispered then, and Sirius hated every version of himself that deigned to let you go without knowing just how loved you were.

“Probably when we were still just cosmic dust.” Sirius smiled sadly. “I’m sorry I didn’t always realise, I’m sorry I didn’t make sure that you knew.”

“I take it to guess there isn’t an aunt in Killarney?” Lily offered then, smiling kindly at you when you turned your attention towards her.

“No, I- I think there actually is an aunt in Killarney, I just don’t live with her.”

“Where do you live?” Sirius asked eagerly, wondering if you could hear it in his voice or even see on his face just how desperate he was to know everything about you.

“Near Tintagel.” You offered abashedly as Remus slapped his hand on his thigh.

“You minx!” He scolded you. “You lived basically across the channel from me this whole time!”

“I hope it’s nice, wherever it is” You offered him then, smiling through your tears as Sirius swallowed around his bile threatening its way up his oesophagus.

“I hope it’s nice.” Sirius blurted suddenly, and Sirius thanked the heavens for Remus John Lupin who seemed to understand that the conversation delved beyond the need of an audience, scooping Harry up and closing the door behind Lily, James, and himself to give you two some privacy. 

“It’s nice.” You offered wetly. “It’s quiet.”

Sirius hummed in acknowledgement. “In Tintagel, near Merlin’s cave?”

You laughed, which saw Sirius smiling. “I’m not right in Tintagel, just outside. My neighbours are mostly sheep.” 

“Does it have a picket fence?”

“To keep the sheep out of my garden.” You nodded with a smile.

“Flowers; lots of them.” Sirius deduced, you nodded again though Sirius watched your smile falter.

“You’d probably hate it.”

“Are you there?” He asked quickly.

“Well, usually, yes.” You offered, and Sirius shrugged easily.

“Sounds as though it might be my favourite place in the world, then.” 

The next breath that left you shuddered on its way out, and Sirius finally stood and met you in the middle of the room; close enough to touch but not daring to. He hadn’t earned that right yet. 

“Take me with you?” He all but begged then, and your face crumpled in misery.

“Sirius, I don’t want you to follow me because you have to, I-”

“I don’t have to though, I know I don’t; I know you’d never make me.” He assured you then, lifting a hand but pausing to wait for you to nod at him before he placed it on your upper arm. “The letters, Y/N, I- I’ve been looking for you for months.”

A sob tore through you as you lowered your head, and Sirius allowed himself to catch it in his free hand. 

“I don’t want you to feel bad; I’m not telling you so that you feel bad, love.” The endearment falling off his tongue so easily now that he had you in his arms. “But I need you to know that I want you - any of you, all of you - and have for a very long time.” 

“It’s just…you said-” and Sirius knew exactly what he said; he had played that conversation over and over and over in his mind until he found himself sick over it more than once. But we waited for you to tell him anyhow; he’d always wait for you. “You couldn’t settle down and be content, you couldn’t play house; you weren’t that kind of guy.” 

“I know, doll. I know.” He whispered. “I…I didn’t think I was capable of it. I didn’t think I deserved everything I wanted and I knew that you deserved better. That you deserve better.”

“But?”

“But I’d be happy to spend the rest of my life trying to prove you otherwise; trying to give you everything you deserve.”

“Sirius…” You sighed, and Sirius could see your walls cracking. “I…I’m-”

“Take me home? Please?” He begged then, words interrupted by a sob of his own. “To Tintagel, to Killarney, to bloody fucking Azkaban or the bottom of the sodding ocean, I don’t care where it is just as long as it’s with you, please. Please.”

Your hands landed on Sirius’ chest and he was sure you could feel his hummingbird heart beating under your fingertips. He only hoped you knew how it beat for you. 

“Please bring me home?”

James didn’t know if he could consider this a success or not. 

His motivation was not singular; it was a ‘hit two fairies with one gobstone’ sort of scenario, so to speak. Was his son turning two? Indeed he was! Was James throwing a party for said son’s birthday? You’re damned right he was. But was it also a really good excuse to force two of his idiot best friends into the same room again? Absolutely.

Except James seems to have gotten slightly more than he bargained for; Sirius falling unconscious in his childhood backyard, you sobbing into Lily’s shoulder out in the hallway as he and Remus tried to bring him back from the dead, Remus sneering at a slice of birthday cake like it personally offended him and Regulus threatening to defend his boyfriend’s honour, and - apparently - a new niece or nephew coming in the next three-ish months. 

But when he looked over to see you and Sirius emerging from the spare room - both of your faces tear stained and puffy from the grief and torment you no doubt put yourselves through - hands intertwined between your bodies and your hand resting protectively over your growing bump, and a spark in Sirius’ eyes James had thought he lost in the war but now realised he only lost when he lost you…

…yeah, James figured he could probably consider this a success.

[arminsumi]

🔞 / 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐃𝐍𝐈 / 𝐀𝐝𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 / 𝟏𝟖+

𝐅𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐁𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐟𝐢𝐭𝐬 𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮

𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 is a strange friend.

You can share anything with him — completely confide in him. Spend nights curled up on his chest crying about things in your past that you can't change as he genuinely listens, sometimes stroking your hair.

Ending up kissing him once, twice, more, with a cheap excuse each time, desperate to convince yourselves that you're just friends.

It was a dare. It was one time at a party. I was drunk. You were drunk. We were both drunk. Oh, that time? We were experimenting.

Well, next thing you know, you're in between Satoru's sheets. And he's smiley, cracking jokes, acting casual and as if he didn't just let you cum all over his abs.

Anyone breaks your heart, Satoru's there for you; so is his dick. He always says there's nothing a good 'pillow fight' can't fix. Or is that just his excuse to sink 7.8 inches deep into you? Probably. The way he slides into your soft pussy, there's nothing platonic about it. He started out fucking you like a friend just needing to release tension, but now he's beginning to fuck you like he's your man.

Satoru stubbornly insists that you and him are platonic. That you're just casually fucking in his shower, that it's just a funny experiment if he wants to control your vibrator in public.

"No, we're just friends." he shrugs. "What? Do friends not typically cum on each other's faces? Weird."

"Be serious, Satoru. What are we?" you ask one day. "Sometimes I feel like you like me."

He goes silent, hands behind his head and smug look erased. No reply.

𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮, who is your 'friend' and is also uncontrollably attracted to you and wants to try creampie you until you fall in love with him. Maybe if he fills you enough, you'll think he's as irresistible as he thinks you are?

© 𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐢

[ms0milk]

Shinsou is the man to call when you need to cum, everyone knows that. No coy texting, no pointless bravado, he knows the entry code, he has the spare key. Toshi, just one text, need help, and he's heavy on your doorstep in the hour. Shinsou cups your jaw the second you invite him inside and his kiss, his tongue and teeth, understands what you want in seconds every time. Bad breakup? Douche ex, fucked hormones, fingers that just couldn't find the birdsong spot inside of you– he can fix it. Other cocks not filling you right, leaving you hungry– he can fix it. He has you against the first thing in sight and his rings warm on your thighs as he peels your sleepclothes up, off, away from what you need his hands to grope and scratch and fuck. Shinso makes quick work of you. You need his mouth, you need his fingers, you need it to hurt you need it deeper, he knows, don't worry, he knows

[mattsmunch]

── 𖦹 !　TICKLISH?

chris sturniolo x fem!reader.

SUMMARY: who knew a conversation about tickling would lead to this?

CONTENTS: SMUT! with small plot, established! friendship, dom!chris x sub!reader, pet names are used (ma,baby, angel, i think that’s all?), unprotected p n v (no bueno), a TEENY bit of fluff, + more…

WC: 5.6k

REQUEST: open <3

AUTHORS NOTE: THIS IS AN ORIGINAL STORYLINE. i DONT allow any copying, "inspiration" or plagiarism. a smidge new to writing smut so BARE W ME YALL! let me unleash my freak. NOT PROOF READ, ignore any typos pls n thx

“you’re a liar”

“i’m not i swear! im literally not ticklish” you snort,

"you’re definitely a liar," chris accuses again, seeing you snort and grab the remote from him. he takes the moment to dig his fingers into your side, searching for a reaction. your lips part in a small gasp, your face holding a stoic expression that contrasts with his surprised expression. his hands and jaw drop as you readjust on the bed, hitting play on the movie without a word.

“there’s no way, you’ve gotta be ticklish somewhere” chris throws your blanket off your lap, revealing your feet, and begins trying to tickle your toes through your socks. you shake your head with a smile, trying to hold back laughter.

chris exclaims, "it’s the socks!" while reaching for the hem of your ankle sock, but you quickly pull your leg away, denying him access.

you push chris's hands away every time he grabs your ankles, cackling as you do so. despite the effort to remain nonchalant, your body responds, the skin under his touch turning hot.

"you're not touching my bare feet, idiot! that’s disgusting," you tease, trying to play it cool.

“c’mon! you know you’re gonna laugh that’s why” chris giggles, a large grin on his face, as he playfully grapples with you over your feet. despite your protests, he uses his body weight to pin down your legs, resulting in squeals and pleas not to touch your bare feet.

as he disregards your objections, you let out a noise that is a mix between a groan and a giggle, your attempts to resist in vain.

chris swiftly removes your sock and tickles the sole of your foot with his fingers, prompting you to snort and playfully smack his back in protest.

"okay, well, you're broken!" he laughs, sitting back and resting against the headboard next to you. you put your sock back on and shake your head as you giggle.

chris's smile grows wider in response to your laughter, a sound he has yet to tire of even after 8 years of friendship.

you shrug as you reach for the bowl of popcorn and munch on a few pieces, your eyes fixed on the television in front of you.

“i mean, maybe,” you continue speaking, “you could literally touch me anywhere, and you still wouldn't get a reaction.”

chris remains still beside you, silently studying your figure. his gaze wanders down to your bare thighs peeking out from under his large hoodie, one that you’ve been wearing for so many years that it practically belongs to you now.

however, something about the sight of you in his clothes and in his bed, along with your words, causes his heart to thump a little too quickly for comfort.

Chris clears his throat and shakes his head slightly, trying to rid himself of the thoughts racing through his mind. He reaches for the popcorn in your lap, but you swiftly withdraw the bowl and smack his hand.

"no way!" you exclaim, feigning disgust, "you just touched my feet with those hands! go wash them first!"

as chris rolls his eyes playfully and gets up to head to the bathroom, you can't help but notice how your heart starts to flutter louder than before. despite yourself, the sight of his small smile makes your pulse quicken even more.

he disappears momentarily into the bathroom, the sound of the water running echoes from within, as he washes his hands. you remain on the bed, still struggling to compose yourself.

chris exits the bathroom with an exaggerated slowness, his hands covered in soap bubbles. he rubs them together aggressively, his eyebrows slightly furrowed in a determined expression, and locks eyes with you. the silence in the air is almost palpable as he stands there awkwardly.

“what are you doing?” you question

chris looks at you, and his tongue quickly darts out to moisten his lips.

"i’m washing my hands," he responds, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

you raise an eyebrow and look at him skeptically. "yea, but why are you doing it outside the bathroom?" you ask, still questioning his actions.

chris looks down at his hands, then back up to the television, and finally back down to you. he shrugs sheepishly before hastily retreating back into the bathroom, the sound of the door shutting behind him.

you remain there for a moment, slightly confused by his behavior, but eventually turn your focus back to the movie playing on the screen.

after a few minutes, chris reemerges, wiping his hands against the front of his shirt, and slips back into the bed next to you.

you silently move the popcorn bowl between the both of you, and he grabs a handful and shovels it into his mouth. for a few moments, silence hangs in the air as you both continue to watch the movie without a word.

then, slowly, chris breaks the silence, speaking up to you.

“hey,” he begins, grabbing your attention. you turn your head towards him, waiting for him to continue.

chris turns to face you, hesitating for a moment before continuing, “can i ask you something?”

you turn to face him, a look of confusion on your features as you try to understand what he's talking about. it only takes a moment before realization dawns on you, as you recall the conversation about the discussion about ticklish spots.

"you mean...about the tickling thing?" you respond, wanting to confirm your suspicions. he nods, confirming your thought, "yeah," he responds, a hint of seriousness in his voice.

you turn back to him, still not quite sure where he's going with this. "what do you mean? i just meant i’m not...ticklish like you are," you shrug, feeling a little self-conscious under his gaze.

“what are you looking at?” your question, his attention snaps back to the present as you speak, his cheeks flushing with a hint of embarrassment. for a few moments, the only sound comes from the movie playing in the background.

finally, he breaks the silence, his words coming out hesitantly.

“can…can i try something?” he mumbles softly, his eyes tracing your facial features slowly.

“uhm..sure?” you respond, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear as chris slowly scoots closer to you.

“just…just don’t- don’t freak out ‘kay?” he sighs softly, placing a hand on your cheek as you nod.

as chris brushes his nose against yours, your eyebrows scrunch together in momentary confusion. but before you can process what's happening, his tongue slips out to moisten his lips, and his eyelids flutter closed and his lips pressed against yours.

your body tenses instinctively, but the soft caress of his thumb against your cheek instantly soothes you, and you can feel yourself melting into his lips.

the kiss is tender and unhurried, both of you moving delicately, as if any sudden move could shatter the fragile moment.

what started as a soft, gentle kiss gradually transforms into something much more intense. your tongue brushes against his lips, a silent request that is swiftly granted, and the pace picks up rapidly. your breathing quickens as your hands move to tangle themselves in his messy curls.

the kiss devolves into a messy dance of teeth and tongue, each battling for dominance, neither willing to back down.

chris groans, and his grip on your cheek shifts to your neck, gently squeezing while pulling you closer against him.

you break away from the kiss, gasping for air as you try to regain control of your breathing. the sensation of his hot breath on your skin has your head spinning. slowly, he lowers his head, tilting your chin up to expose more of your neck, and begins trailing a path of soft kisses down its length.

his lips travel down the smooth expanse of your skin, and he sucks gently, marking your flesh with small love bites that will no doubts be fun to explain later. as he reaches just below your ear, his tongue softly laps at your skin. a light moan escapes your lips, and your thighs involuntarily clench together, doing little to ease the aching need between them.

chris chuckles gently against your neck, planting a final soft peck before whispering into your ear, his voice low and sultry.

“that tickles ma?” he murmurs, his breath ghosting over your skin, sending a shiver down your spine. his voice is soft but authoritative at the same time, a hint of amusement in his tone as he feels your thighs clamp together against him.

you can practically feel the smugness radiating off him, knowing perfectly well that he's the one causing this reaction in you.

"tell me y/n," chris murmurs, his breath hot against your earlobe as his lips graze the sensitive skin. your body responds instinctively, a needy whimper escaping your parted lips. the growing hardness beneath his sweatpants presses insistently against your thigh, evidence of his desire.

chris's groan vibrates against your mouth when he captures your lips in a searing kiss. his hands find your hips, fingers digging in possessively as he effortlessly flips you onto your back, never breaking the intimate connection. your legs automatically wrap around his waist, pulling him closer.

the sudden shift has you straddling chris's torso, your cunt pressing firmly against the rigid plane of his chest. he groans, the arousal between your legs immediately soaking through the thin fabric of his t shirt.

"fucking hell!" chris grits out, his cock now fully harden, creating a noticeable bulge in his sweatpants. you hastily reposition yourself, aligning your dripping cunt directly over his throbbing cock. both of you let out guttural moans as you begin to undulate your hips, rubbing your aching clit against his hardness.

"fuck, chris—" you whine into his neck, your lips sucking hickeys onto his neck. chris tosses his head back, eyes rolling shut as he grips your hips tightly, guiding your movements with increasing urgency. the friction builds with every roll of your pelvis. low moans fall between his soft, slightly puffy lips, the combination of your lips sucking all sorts of different sized hickeys along his neck and the way your cunt is soaking him through both his sweats and boxers, is enough to have him dangerously close to the edge. his grip tightens as he holds you in place, your hips begging to move.

"hold on, ma... i’m gonna fucking bust in my pants before i even get to touch you properly," chris grumbles, his voice low and strained with barely contained lust. he gently lifts you off his lap, positioning you so you're lying flat on your back while he looms above you. the soft glow of the TV casts a warm light across your features, highlighting the delicate flush spreading across your cheeks as he drinks in the sight of you.

atender smile tugs at the corners of chris’s mouth as realization settles over him - the gravity of the situation and the depth of his feelings for you in this charged moment. he leans down, capturing your lips in a slow, sensual kiss, pouring all his affection and desire into the intimate gesture.

"you okay?" chris whispers, placing a feather-light kiss to your temple. at your quick nod, he lets out a soft chuckle, but his expression remains tender. "words, please. need to hear this is okay for you too, sweet girl," he urges, the endearment slipping easily from his lips and sending a jolt of pleasure through your core.

your walls clench involuntarily at the nickname, unused to hearing it in this context but craving more of his affectionate tone. the sincerity in his gaze makes it impossible to deny the truth - you're more than alright with this intimacy. in fact, the warmth of his words and the gentle way he's treating you only heighten your arousal, leaving you aching for his touch once again.

"yes, i’m okay... i want this chris, i promise," you whisper, extending your pinky finger between you, y/e/c eyes gazing up at him softly. the innocent gesture, reminiscent of childhood pacts, seems to inflame chris further, his already straining erection twitching in response to the simple, trusting act.

without hesitation, he wraps his own pinky around yours, and you both lean in to seal the agreement with a soft, lingering peck. as your fingers part, chris claims your mouth in a hungry, open-mouthed kiss, his tongue delving deep to taste you thoroughly. his chilly palms slide beneath the hem of your hoodie, tracing teasing patterns along your hipbones.

chris gradually pulls the hoodie over your head, breaking their heated kiss briefly. but as soon as the fabric clears your face, his lips are back on yours, moving with renewed fervor. his hands roam the newly exposed skin of your torso, caressing the soft curves hidden beneath the thin fabric of your crop top.

he reluctantly pulls away once more, drinking in the sight of your body laid bare before him. a low, appreciative sigh escapes his lips as his gaze lands on the glinting silver of your belly button piercing, nestled tantalizingly above the waistband of your shorts. the intimate accessory draws his attention like a beacon.

"did i ever tell you how fucking sexy this looks on you?" chris murmurs, his fingers trailing slowly down your torso, eliciting soft gasps from your parted lips. "i was a complete mess when you first got it done..." he trails off, lost in memories, before continuing, "thought about it so fucking much."

his touch sends shivers down your spine as one finger teases the edge of your shorts' waistband, causing your back to arch off the bed instinctively. your breath catches in your throat as that same finger brushes dangerously close to your most intimate area, a wicked grin playing on chris's lips as he revels in your whimpers of frustration. then, in a cruel twist, he withdraws his hand entirely, leaving you aching and wanting more.

"gonna find out how ticklish this is too," chris growls, swiftly tugging down both your underwear and shorts in one fluid motion. he pauses, transfixed by the sight of your thong clinging to your slick, aroused folds. a low, appreciative hum rumbles in his chest as he licks his lips, his eyes darkening with desire.

your cheeks flush a deep crimson as you watch him discard the discarded garments carelessly across the floor, the sound echoing in the charged silence. your heart pounds wildly against your ribs, nerves coursing through your stomach like electric currents. the air feels heavy with anticipation, each ragged breath you take seeming to magnify the pulsating ache between your thighs.

chris notices the way your bottom lip has fallen between your teeth, a nervous tick of yours he’s picked up on.

"all this fuss just for little ol' me?" chris teases, attempting to lighten the intense atmosphere with a joke. his attempt succeeds, coaxing a soft, melodic giggle from your lips. your hands slap playfully against his shoulder, sending a spark of electricity through your touch.

"shut up and take it off," you smile coyly, tugging gently at the hem of his shirt. chris obliges, sitting up slightly and tearing the garment off in one swift motion. your eyes linger on his now-bare torso, drinking in the sight of his soft, freckled skin stretched taut over lean muscle. an inexplicable urge washes over you, prompting a fleeting fantasy of placing tender kisses upon each speckled mark.

your gaze meets chris's, his eyes such a dark shade of blue they could almost be mistaken for brown eyes. you both hold the moment, two warm smiles shared silently between you as he takes your hand, pressing a feather-light kiss to your palm.

"i’m gonna need you to let me know if it's too much or if you don't like what i’m doing, okay?" Chris murmurs, his voice a soothing rumble. "want you to feel good, ma." with that, he leans in, brushing a soft peck against your lips before trailing open-mouthed kisses down the column of your neck. they dance along your skin, pausing to nibble delicately at the spot just above your belly button, where the piercing glints invitingly.

"chris!" you gasp sharply as his tongue blazes a searing path down to your pelvic bone, sending yet another shudder rippling through your frame. he smirks to himself, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards, before drawing your sensitive skin between his lips. soft sucks pepper your flesh, promising to leave behind a constellation of love bites. your hips buck involuntarily, seeking friction, as your hands fly to tangle in his hair, wordlessly pleading for him to venture lower. but chris has other plans. his left hand snatches both your wrists, pinning them securely against your tummy, stifling your movements.

"patience, y/n," chris coos reassuringly, "i’m getting there." with that promise hanging in the air, he uses his free hand to throw your thighs over his shoulders, positioning you perfectly for his next move. his mouth descends upon your slick inner thighs, lathering it with wet, open-mouthed kisses. the taste of your arousal fills his senses, a sweet-sour tang that makes him groan in appreciation. his tongue darts out, licking a slow, tantalizing path up your inner thigh, teasing closer and closer to your aching center without touching it directly.

"chris...please... need more," you plead, squirming beneath him. you try to lift your hips higher, desperate to bring your throbbing pussy closer to his waiting mouth. he chuckles softly, nipping at your inner thighs with his teeth. a surprised yelp escapes your lips as he moves to your other thigh, now tantalizingly close to your slick folds.

his lips glisten with anticipation as he looks up at you. using his free hand, he trails a single digit through your soaking folds, watching as your face contorts with pleasure. he gathers the copious fluids pooling around your entrance and brings his finger to your mouth. "open up for me," he commands softly.

as soon as his finger enters your mouth, your lips seal around it, and you moan softly at the taste of your own essence. your tongue swirls and laps, eagerly cleaning every inch until not a single drop remains. you maintain eye contact throughout, your eyes darkening with lust.

with a playful pop, chris withdraws his finger from your mouth. "every last fucking drop?" he teases, pouting exaggeratedly. "could've at least given me a little somethin', baby."

despite the jest, his cock twitches with need, the tip visibly glistening with pre-cum that's begun to soak through his boxers, clinging them to his thick length.

before you can form a response, chris’s tongue delves into your dripping folds, eliciting a soft moan from him as your flavor explodes across his taste buds. he knows he'll crave another taste of you soon, your essence already proving addictive. his hands release your wrists, allowing your fingers to tangle in his hair just as he seals his lips around your throbbing clit. he sucks hard, groaning as the vibrations send shockwaves through your core. more of your arousal trickles out, staining his sheets beneath you.

he hooks his arms under your knees, pushing them towards your chest to grant himself deeper access to your weeping pussy. his tongue plunders your folds, lapping up every drop of your essence.

"oh-…fuck!" you cry out, your hips undulating to meet the thrust of chris's probing fingers. each time they brush against that sensitive sponge-like spot deep inside, your pussy gushes in response, soaking his digits. whimpering moans spill from your lips as he skillfully curls his fingers, hitting that sweet spot again and again.

meanwhile, his tongue picks up speed, lashing at your clit with relentless fervor. the combined stimulation pushes you rapidly towards the brink, your body trembling with impending climax. his fingers pumping in and out while his mouth works overtime to wring every ounce of pleasure from your quivering form.

your body tenses, back arching off the bed as the overwhelming sensation crests within you. "chris!..oh god, yes!" you wail, your voice cracking with ecstasy. wave after wave of intense pleasure crashes over you, your inner walls clenching rhythmically around chris's fingers as your orgasm rips through you.

through it all, chris maintains his relentless pace, tongue still lashing at your throbbing clit and fingers continuing their deep strokes. he drinks in every muffled scream and whimper, reveling in the power he holds over your pleasure. as your contractions start to subside, he slows his ministrations, savoring the aftermath of your explosive climax. finally, he releases your clit with a parting lick, withdrawing his fingers with a soft pop.

pride swells in chris's chest as he watches you collapse back onto the bed, spent and shaking from the force of your orgasm. he takes a moment to admire the flushed, sweat-dampened beauty of you, his fingers gently tracing the curves of your quivering thighs.

"that was definitely a reaction" he murmurs playfully, his voice low and husky with satisfaction. he leans down to press a tender kiss to your inner thigh, his breath hot against your sensitive skin. In this intimate moment, with your defenses lowered and your trust in him palpable, chris feels a deep connection, a sense of possession that only adds to his arousal.

As you lay there, catching your breath and basking in the afterglow, chris's demeanor changes. the playful teasing fades, replaced by a hungry intensity in his gaze. he straightens, his impressive erection straining against his boxers, the damp fabric clinging to his thick length.

without a word, chris reaches for the waistband of his underwear, pulling them down just enough to free his cock, the tip already glistening with pre-cum. he gives his shaft a few slow pumps, his eyes never leaving yours as he says, "we can stop y/n” he murmurs softly, sliding his tip between your folds. a gasp leaves your lips, your legs immediately trying to close against him as you are still very sensitive. “just say the words…” he groans softly, teasing your entrance with his tip.

chris’s movements are deliberate and unhurried, giving you ample opportunity to voice your reservations if you choose. yet, as he teases the head of his cock between your slick folds, another startled gasp escapes your lips.

"she, baby," chris, his voice a soothing murmur against the tension. "just say the words...tell me to stop if you're not ready."

his tip continues to rub against your entrance, applying gentle pressure that makes you acutely aware of your body's responses. a shiver runs down your spine as your inner muscles clench involuntarily around nothing, craving the fullness only he can provide.

the silence stretches between you, heavy with unspoken desires and lingering doubts. chris waits patiently, his cock still poised at your entrance, the heat of his breath ghosting over your most intimate flesh. he wants nothing more than to claim you, to bury himself deep and lose himself in your warmth. but he also respects your boundaries, willing to halt proceedings at the slightest indication of discomfort.

after what feels like an eternity, Chris speaks up, his voice low and gravelly with restraint. "y/n, i know you're still sensitive, but i need you, ma. please, tell me it's okay to keep going..." his words are a plea, a silent offer of comfort and reassurance should you require it. he holds his breath, waiting for your response, the tip of his cock twitching with anticipation.

you nod eagerly, opening your eyes to stare into his, “please chris” you mutter.

at the sight of your eager nod, chris's control snaps. with a guttural groan, he surges forward, sheathing himself to the hilt in one powerful thrust. your body yields to his size, accommodating the thickness of his cock as he fills you completely.

for a moment, chris remains still, savoring the exquisite feeling of being buried inside you. then, with a slow, deliberate withdrawal, he begins to move, setting a steady, deep rhythm that has you gasping and arching into his touch once more.

"fuck, you feel incredible," chris growls, his hips snapping forward to drive his cock home again. "so tight and wet for me...like you were made to take my cock." he punctuates his words with a particularly hard thrust, his pubic bone grinding against your clit and sending sparks of pleasure shooting through your nerves. you gasp at his words, never hearing such filth fall from his lips before.

“m-more…please…” you whimper softly, reaching out the grab his shoulders.

chris establishes a relentless pace, each stroke pushing you further along the path to another orgasm. his hands grip your hips tightly, holding you in place as he pounds into you with increasing fervor. the sound of flesh slapping against flesh mingles with your ragged breaths and stifled cries, creating a symphony of carnal pleasure.

"you like that, don't you?" chris pants, sweat beading on his brow as he loses himself in the primal act. "taking my cock like a good little slut...i bet you're gonna come all over it soon, aren't you? gonna let me fill you up ma?..."

he punctuates his filthy words with a sharp snap of his hips, angling to hit that perfect spot deep inside you.

chris’s thrusts become erratic, driven by a primal urge to claim you utterly. his cock pistons in and out of your dripping heat, the sound of his heavy breathing mingling with your high-pitched moans. each stroke sends waves of ecstasy crashing over you, threatening to pull you under.

"yes, fuck, just like that!" you cry out, your nails digging into chris's shoulders as you cling to him. "harder, please...m’gonna cum”

chris obeys, slamming into you with abandon. the room echoes with the force of his thrusts, the bed creaking beneath you. sweat drips down his chest, mixing with the tang of sex that permeates the air. his hands grip your hips, pulling out and quickly flipping you onto your stomach.

with you pinned beneath him, chris exerts complete control, his dominance over your body evident in every commanding thrust. he grips your hips harshly, using the leverage to drill into you with renewed vigor. the change in position allows him to reach even deeper, his cock stroking that sweet spot within you that sends shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your veins.

"take it, ma," chris grunts, his voice laced with dark satisfaction. "this is what you wanted, isn't it? for me to get a reaction out of you huh"

he once again punctuates his words with a brutal slam, the force causing your breasts to flatten against the mattress. hiss balls slap against your clit with each savage thrust, the dual stimulation driving you closer to the edge of oblivion.

lost in a haze of lust, chris becomes a creature of pure instinct, chasing his own release with single-minded determination. his hips piston back and forth, the obscene sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room. your body rocks with the force of his thrusts, the headboard slamming against the wall in time with his movements.

"fuck, gonna cum soon," chris snarls, his fingers digging into your hips hard enough to leave bruises. "gonna let me fill you up? hm angel? "

he leans forward, changing the angle of penetration and hitting that magic spot inside you with every pass. your vision blurs, your mind consumed by the overwhelming sensation of being taken so thoroughly, so completely. you nod, moans falling from your mouth.

“y-yes…please chris…please cum in me..” you blabber, your face pressed into the mattress.

at your desperate plea, chris lets out a feral roar, his body tensing as he buries himself to the hilt one final time. with a hoarse cry, he erupts inside you, his hot seed pulsing deep within your core. the sensation triggers your own orgasm, waves of ecstasy washing over you as you convulse beneath him.

your walls clamp down around chris's throbbing cock, milking him for every drop as he continues to pump his release into you. the intense contractions draw out his pleasure, prolonging the blissful agony until they both collapse, spent and trembling.

in the aftermath, chris rolls off you, gathering you close as you both struggle to catch your breath.

chris lets out a final gasp as he rolls off you, wrapping you close to his chest. both of you lay there, panting heavily, struggling to catch your breath and slow down your racing hearts.

for several moments, neither of you speak, the silence of the room filled with the sound of your labored breathing. finally, he breaks the silence, his voice barely above a whisper.

"wow," is all he manages to say, his chest heaving up and down as he still struggles to catch his breath.

you can feel his heartbeat pounding against your ear, a testament to the intensity of what had just happened between the two of you. for a brief moment, you wonder if you should say something, but you're too spent to string together a coherent sentence.

instead, you simply nod in agreement, the wordless gesture seeming to convey your feelings perfectly.

chris tightens his arms around you, pulling you even closer against him. your body heat radiates off of eachother, your legs still tangled around his waist. despite the exhaustion, his heart continues to beat rapidly against your cheek, a constant reminder of the passion that had just occurred.

"that was..." he begins, his voice hoarse from their panting. he pauses for a moment, struggling to find the words to describe what had just happened.

he takes another deep, ragged breath, his chest heaving against your head. "amazing," he finally manages to say, his voice filled with awe and exhaustion. you nod, unable to find your voice still. the room is quiet once again, the only sound being the steady rise and fall of your breathing. chris's hands slowly stroke your back, tracing small, comforting circles on your skin.

he's clearly as spent as you are, but there's also a sense of deep satisfaction radiating from him.

a few moments pass in comfortable silence, the two of you simply holding each other as your breathing slowly returns to normal. chris leans his head down, burying his face into the crook of your neck, planting a soft kiss against your collarbone.

“chris?” you mutter softly

chris lifts his head slightly, his chin still resting on top of your head. "yeah?" he replies, his voice is equally soft.

he seems a little dazed still, but there's a hint of alertness in his tone, as if he was just roused from a pleasant dream.

chris huffs out a small laugh, his body shaking slightly from the chuckle. "fair point," he admits, a hint of amusement in his voice.

he pulls back just enough to be able to look down at your face, his gaze filled with a mixture of affection and playful mockery. you stare up at him through hooded eyes, a soft smile on your lips as you shake your head playfully. chris stares back down at you, his gaze softer than usual. he's still smiling slightly, but there's a new tenderness in his eyes.

he lifts one arm from your side, his hand moving to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear. his touch is gentle, as if he's afraid of breaking the moment.

"well then," he says, his voice just above a whisper, "guess i should confess how long i’ve been wanting to do that"you raise an eyebrow quizzically, silently prompting him to elaborate. his hand moves to your cheek, his thumb tracing small circles against your skin.

chris takes a deep breath before speaking, "i honestly don’t even remember the last time i wasn’t...interested in you" he confesses, the faintest hint of a blush on his cheeks.

“i never..mentioned it cause i didn’t want to ruin our friendship or anything” he mumbles softly with a shrug.

“well there’s no way we can just go back to being friends after this” you sigh playfully

he lets out a snort, a small smirk on his face. "believe me, i have no plans on going back to being 'just friends'" he replies, his voice low and serious.

his hand moves down from your cheek to your neck, his thumb brushing against your skin as he continues to admire your features.

“then what…what are we doing?” you snort

he’s silent for a moment, simply staring down at you as his thumb continues to trace light circles on the skin above your collarbone.

finally, he gives a slight shrug, his eyes not leaving yours. "i’m not sure yet" he mutters quietly, his tone casual but the look in his eyes anything but. chris gently pulls you even closer, his arms wrapping around you possessively as if trying to ensure you don't disappear. you can feel the steady rise and fall of his chest as he breathes, and the heat radiating off his body as it molds against yours. you feel him nuzzle his face into the crook of your neck, his breath warm against your skin.

“i don’t know what the future holds” he mutters softly against your skin. “but i know that i want you in it. whatever that means.”

the two of you lay there in each other’s arms, silently contemplating the unknown future, but both knowing that there’s nowhere else you’d rather be.

and in that moment, nothing else mattered. the rest of the world faded away, leaving only the two of you, together in the comfort of each other's arms.

in that small pocket of time, it didn't matter what would come next, or what label to put on what had just happened. all that mattered was that you were together, in the present. and right now, that was enough.

AUTHORS NOTE: nervous to post this but like i need to rip the bandage off LOLLL! hope you enjoyed :,) respectful feedback is welcomed.

TAG LIST: @freshloveee @floralsturniolo @chrissturnioloslittleslut @joces-wrld

[issysh3ll]

Fumble ☆ Chris Sturniolo

Part 2

Part 1 -> here Summary: after Chris fumbled his shot with you at 3am Warnings: smut, masturbation, flirting, very light angst, fluff Wordcount: 1k

Downstairs, Chris leans against his bedroom door, his breathing heavy. He can’t get the image of you out of his mind, the way you looked in his hoodie, the words you had spoken. With a frustrated groan he runs his hands through his hair, leaning his head back against the door and screwing his eyes closed. “Fuck…” he mutters, quietly cursing himself again for the complete fumble he had managed. 

Chris’s eyes slowly peel open again with a long sigh and his gaze falls down to the clear bulge still pressing against the thin fabric of his pyjama pants. His mind is still full with the image of you in his hoodie, the feel of you standing so close to him. Slowly, his hands drop down from their place in his hair to palm himself through his pants. Ripples of pleasure melt through his body at even that slight contact and a shaky desperate groan falls from his mouth as he gives in to his desire.

His fingers loop under the waistband of his pyjamas, hurriedly tugging them and his boxers down to fall to a pool around his ankles. Another groan slips through his lips as he wraps his hand around his length and he quickly clamps his free hand over his mouth to muffle the noise. As the wet sounds of his hand moving along his hard dick fill the room, his mind falls back to what had happened upstairs. His imagination runs with all the possibilities of what could be happening right now if he hadn’t messed it up.

A muffled moan of your name slips through his fingers as he finally cums, painting his hand and shirt with thick warm ropes of white. He drops his hand covering his mouth and mutters breathily to himself, “fuck… What am I doing?”

A week had passed since the incident and you were back at the triplets’ house again - Nick had insisted on you joining them for movie night. The four of you sit in the living room; you and Nick at one end of the couch and Matt and Chris at the other. Bowls of popcorn and snacks are littered across the couch and the coffee table. 

The only light in the room comes from the television, gently flashing and fading through the different colors of the film as the light bounces across the room. Despite the relaxed atmosphere, the tension between you and Chris is still palpable. His mind is unable to focus on the movie as his thoughts run nervously over and over in his head. Does she know?

As the movie plays, Chris finds his eyes darting over to you at the opposite end of the couch. Is that his hoodie? The soft fabric of his black hoodie from last week rests over your shoulders, falling loosely over your chest. His heart jumps at the realisation that you had kept it, imagining the way the fabric would smell of you. The soft, colored light from the screen dances over your face casting mesmerizing shadows across your skin. The sight quickly traps Chris in a dazed stare, analyzing the way your eyes change in each different color that the screen reflects, the way you look so good in his hoodie.

You can feel the burn of Chris’s eyes on your face but remain determined to not give him anything, keeping your own eyes trained on the television in front of you. Matt and Nick seem to notice the tension between the two of you and exchange a confused look. Shortly after, Matt excuses himself claiming to be tired and Nick mumbles something about needing to edit a video before hurrying upstairs.

Alone now, the tension between you and Chris makes the room feel much heavier. Chris knows he has been staring for too long, he’s sure you know, but he can’t bring himself to pull his gaze away from you. Until he hears you clear your throat softly and whisper, “...you’re staring, you know?”

His body jumps nervously, as if he hadn’t been expecting you to speak to him but he quickly gathers himself enough to respond, “and you’re wearing my hoodie.”

“Yeah, I was gonna give it back when I leave tonight. But you can have it now if that’s a problem?” You question, finally turning to look at him for the first time all night. Even in the dim light of the room you can still make out the soft blush rising on his cheeks, you can see the way he nervously chews on his bottom lip as you speak.

He shakes his head quickly, too quickly. Silently, he curses himself for his total lack of charisma - shit, Chris be normal she already thinks you’re weird. In his rush to deny your question he chokes slightly, “n-no, no you can keep it… don’t need it back”

Your shoulders shrug lazily and you reach behind yourself to pull the hoodie off, revealing the small tank top you had worn underneath clinging tightly to your chest in a stark contrast to the way the large hoodie had fit. Chris’s mouth drops open at the sight and he feels his pants grow tighter around his crotch, unable to hide his reaction as you stand in front of him holding the thick fabric out to him. Was he really this easy?

“Nah, don’t need it,” you explain as he takes the hoodie from your grip, still staring at your chest. Chris sits frozen on the couch as you turn to walk upstairs. His mind races with ways to get you to stay but he can’t find the right words and he certainly can’t stand up and let you see the very clear effect you have on him.

After you disappear up the stairs he releases a long shaky breath, “shit…” he mumbles. Slowly, he brings the black hoodie up to his face, inhaling the scent deeply and flopping back into the couch with a soft groan.

"Fuck, again…"

Part 3 -> here

Masterlist

[soft4gguk]

yearning | jjk one shot

the one that finds you in Jungkook's doorstep after a night out...

Description: idol!jungkook x reader, fwb 

Content: porn with loads of plot!

Word Count: 7.5k

Warnings: oc smokes 1 cigarette lol, they’re so flirty ouch, so much kissing, cutest little dynamic, dry humping (a personal fave in this house), fingering, protected sex (they’re so smart!!), loads of spanking, jaykay ass man forever. 

Author’s Note: i once sworn to never write idol aus because… i know nothing about this man ok? i do not claim to know what he’s like in a relationship or a situationship or in his personal life!! so please thread carefully when reading <3333 that being said, his lives last year and these first couple of episodes of “are you sure?” have me feeling very delulu so here u go!! hope you enjoy xo

★ masterlist ★

This is a work of fiction. Please respect the members and their privacy. x

The moment you exit the club, a gust of summer breeze engulfs you. It makes you wrap your arms around your body, but it amounts to nothing, the little black dress that you’d made the executive decision to wear, in the name of fashion, betraying you. The tequila shots you'd downed before leaving the house sure had deceived your senses, too.

Needless to say, you regret said decision, a shiver running down your spine all the way to your legs, making you jump a little in place as you tipsily look around you. You’d cut the night short. Your friends had found another lonely pair they’d quickly gotten cozy with, leaving you to drink one too many gin & tonics all by yourself. You hadn’t minded it for the first two hours, enjoying the music, sparking conversation with the bartender from time to time and entertaining the occasional stranger. Eventually though, it became boring, predictable, and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t make you feel a little shitty about yourself. 

It was all getting repetitive. Friday nights, the same faces, small talk, ice breakers. Even the strangers you met had a similar M.O., making it all seem predictable. It made it feel like a waste of self, more than a waste of time, and it ate at you in moments like these, where it was strange to feel lonely amongst a sea of people, unable to shake the feeling.

The bright city lights illuminate the night, lacing it with something livelier than your mood and you smile. At least the scenery is always pretty. Pretty places. You hear the laughter of a group of people that stand a couple of feet away from you, they seem happy in that genuine way that reflects in pure, unadulterated beauty. Pretty people. 

You think of him. 

It’s rather instant. Or perhaps instinctive. The very own butterfly effect of your thoughts because to you, he’s the prettiest of them all. He’d been since the very first day, and as you lose focus of the pretty sights the more you stare into the city lights with him on your mind, you can’t help but think nothing will ever stand close. 

A girl stands next to you, audibly shivering as she exits the club and the air greets her with the same fate it did you. She holds a cigarette between her red lips, the fire from her pink lighter shining on her red hair. It makes you crave one, too, rummaging through your bag for your own. You smile when you remember how he would tease you for smoking “the skinny kind” as he would call them. Calling you a bit of a snob, but all in lighthearted nature. After all, he could. He knew you enough to let your closeness turn into inside jokes, banter. 

Perhaps giving into a vice could prevent you from falling into another. 

“Can I borrow your lighter?” she smiles at you before she’s handing it over. Her nails are pink, too. 

The fire feels pleasant for all of five seconds, warm against your face as you take the first drag. You give into one instinct so as to distract yourself from the one that’s tugging at your heart and senses, begging you to make a reckless call. 

You check the time. 

2:32 A.M.

~

Jungkook scrolls through the endless list of channels aimlessly. Small snippets from whatever’s playing that he cuts short, not really giving it much thought. He settles on one, solely so he can stop putting exertion on his thumb and go back to leaning against his couch – fully relaxed. He sighs. On the screen, some drama he hasn’t gotten around to watching plays, and the story seems to be developing quickly. He doesn’t care for it, if he’s honest, simply content with the white noise it fills the room with. 

Bam leaves his dog house, standing right in front of him and they seem to start an unspoken staring contest. He smiles, patting the spot right next to him on the couch and the pup rushes to take the place excitedly. He gets cuddles and kisses simply for existing. For keeping him company – his presence giving Jungkook more peace than he’ll ever know. 

“Hey, Bam, should we, like, meet up in our next life as well? Perhaps I’ll be the dog in that one and you’ll be my owner.”

Bam simply stares and Jungkook swears if he could, he’d let out a deep sigh right now. This makes him laugh. 

“Hey, don’t be jumping of excitement at the idea, man.”

At this, he attacks. With kisses, that is – wet, sloppy kisses that have Jungkook giggling and pushing back, though it is no use, his dog is that determined to give him love.

“Alright, you win. Let’s go get a beer. For me, not for you. You’re still too young. One day, son.” His voice takes on a lower tone, imitating his father. Or maybe Yoongi’s, he can’t tell anymore. 

He retrieves a cold beer mug from his freezer and cracks the can open, nodding his head at the sound it makes, the fizziness bubbling up before he pours it in the cold glass. He takes a sip as he walks back to the couch, blissed out in leisure.

He doesn’t mind being alone, specially not on nights like this when sleep leaves him and everything but seems more tempting. He likes the way everything slows down at this time of day, the ease of it all. No one to see, no texts to reply to. As for what the world is concerned for, he’s asleep. It’s peaceful, just being. 

Plopping down on the couch, he rests against the pillows, making himself comfortable. He must’ve spoken too soon, he thinks, because it’s not thirty seconds after this that his phone buzzes on the coffee table in front of him. He ponders on the possibility of simply ignoring it, let it sit there, facing down. But something tells him he should check the message. It could be important, or not. The pull isn’t necessarily violent, just a quiet voice that tells him so, like a little nudge. He leans forward, setting his beer on the table before he’s taking a hold of his phone. 

He gets it now – the pull. 

From ___: jungkookie, u awake?

To ___: no

From ___: can I call?

He smiles – so fucking big he almost hates that he does, slightly flustered and embarrassed you have this quick of an effect on him. And before he can talk himself out of it, he calls you. 

~

Seeing his name flash on your phone screen does more to you than anything you’ve deemed exhilarating tonight. The simple prospect of hearing his voice rushes more excitement through your body than any of the mindless conversations you had this evening. Than any of the conversations you’ve had all week perhaps. You smile and there’s no doubt that he can hear it in your voice when you say,

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

There’s a moment of silence and you can hear the smile on his face, too. It’s warmth – he’s warmth, even far. How far is he, you wonder. Did you happen to demand of him at a bad time? Will the end of this call find you disappointed?

You cut to the chase. 

“What are you up to?”

There’s a pause and you can hear the way he sinks into his couch. “Can’t sleep so I’m having a beer and watching some TV with Bamie.”

He’s home and a giddy giggle escapes you. “Ahh,” you say.

“You? It sounds busy in there.”

“Yeah, I’m outside the club.”

“Fun night?”

“No.” You don’t lie, you never lie to him. Don’t have the need to, or the want to. Everything about Jungkook is comfort – the kind that welcomes. 

“Yeah, had a feeling. It’s not really your scene, is it?”

Your head leans to the side, eyes closing for a moment. He knows you in ways most people don’t, and it’s a simple remark but it gets to you. The fact that he doesn’t see you for the parts of you that feel the emptiest settles on your heart. It’s good, you think, to be seen by someone who observes.

“I want to see you.” There’s all the point in the world to be honest right now. 

“Come over. I’ll make you ramen.”

“Will you show me your cat?”

There’s a pause. You picture him smiling, biting his lip, running a hand through his hair. 

“Yeah, that too.”

~

You sway from side to side, a little drunkenly and a whole lot excited, as you stand in front of his door. It’s brief, but as you wait you make a little reflection on your emotions. What exactly do you feel right now? It’s been so long – probably not that long – but long enough to make you happier than usual to be seeing his face. Anyone else would make you nervous, and perhaps he does, too, if only a little. But it’s a different kind of nervous. It’s laced with sweetness, as opposed to anxiety. And the minute he opens his front door, it’s replaced by something sweeter. 

Yearning. 

He stands there, glasses and black sweatpants on, signature oversized shirt – something so very home about him. Your eyes widen as you take in his hair, it’s grown significantly, giving you a rough idea of when it was you last saw him. Two, three months ago. He looks good; rested, fresh, beautiful. You can smell him before you even touch him and it makes you smile. He returns it. 

Yeah – yearning. 

“I like your hair,” you say, because anything else would give you away. 

“Yeah?” he runs a hand through it. “I like you.”

“I like you, too.” Let it give you away, you think. Who cares?

“Alright, well- it was nice seeing you.” He says, closing the door in a too casual, yet dramatic manner and you laugh, simply standing there – a little flustered because, oh does it feel good when Jeon Jungkook flirts with you in that boyish, teasing way only he knows how. 

He doesn’t close the door all the way. Instead, he leaves it open far enough for you to see the way he peeks his head out, nose scrunch and toothy smile to signal just how proud he is of himself right now. 

“Come here,” he tells you, reaching his hand out from the little gap and pulling you closer as you yelp, squeezing through the nearly closed door. “I missed you.”

You’re in his arms again, and the moment he closes the door behind you, his lips are on yours. It’s a soft kiss, one that says I missed you because you know him well enough by now to understand the things he says with his lips, and his eyes. With his hands, too.

“Mm,-“ you don’t want to pull back to get your words out, so you don’t. “Me more.”

Jungkook was always a happy coincidence – or at least that’s what you told yourself in a futile attempt to tame the feelings down. But the truth was that being back in his arms felt like fate, in that gentle way that doesn’t come in a movie-like encounter or in some sort of catastrophe bringing you together. Just being here. Anywhere, with him, felt fateful. You opt to believe in angels right this second just to thank them. 

“How are you,” his hand cups your cheek, pecking your lips before you can answer. 

“Good- better now.” His kisses muffle your words and you think you could live with this interruption for the rest of your life. 

“Yeah, me too.”

You wrap your arms around his neck, bringing him closer as he circles his around your middle. You take him in, not one for big displays of affection yet this one you could never deny, could never not welcome. 

It’s a sweet moment but the pull turns hasty soon enough the more your lips become familiar with one another yet again. You run your fingers through his long hair, rejoicing in its softness and length. His hand travels down, slowly but a bit desperately, squeezing when they meet your ass. 

What has a promising ending is cut short by none other than your rumbling stomach. It’s rather loudly and you both hear it, laughing in the middle of the kiss you two seem to refuse parting from. 

“You hungry, baby?”

“You promised ramen. And something about a cat.” Your lips part and you look at him, a pretty smile on his equally pretty face. 

“Mm, yeah. I did. I’m all stocked up on ramen but the cat…,”

“I prefer Bamie anyways.” 

You leave his arms, a smile on your face as you walk towards his beloved child’s crate. The moment he sees you, he hesitates for a moment, not yet having Jungkook’s command to leave his space but he’s excited – you can even make up his little tail wagging from side to side. 

“Come here, baby.”

He runs to you and nearly tackles you, settling into the floor to give him the proper cuddles he deserves. He steps on you the way he did when he was a puppy, sitting down on your knees as you scratch under his ears. 

“No one’s allowed to tell him he’s grown up. He’s little forever.”

Jungkook laughs. “He’s Jiminie’s height.” 

You sneer at him, shaking your head at his joke. He stands there, staring at you with a fondness he reserves for certain things that bring him that kind of comfort that’s gotten rarer over the years. He’s grown up, matured and gotten real about a lot of things but not you.

Never you. 

You’re still the innocence he kissed you with that very first time and the little bit of fear it wouldn’t go further than that. You’re the excitement he had when it did. You’re the flirty teasing and the falling in trust, opening himself little by little. You’re still something he once dreamt about – he still does. You’re the thing he has and doesn’t at the same time. You’re you. 

Your loud giggles as Bam licks your cheek wake him up from his little daydream and he winces at the sloppy kisses he’s leaving. You don’t seem to mind though and he knows that if it were up to you, you’d stay there til dawn. No ramen, no cat. 

“Alright, alright. Daddy’s getting jealous now. You can’t have her all to yourself.”

Your cheeky smile tells him you’re up to no good. “Daddy, huh? Have we ever tried that?”

“What haven’t we tried?” He genuinely ponders on his own question. 

“Pegging!” You say, a little too quickly and excitedly for his liking. 

“Absolutely not.”

“Mean.”

“Come on, let’s feed you.”

You smile. “Okay, daddy.”

~

It’s a chaos in the kitchen in between distracting kisses and your tipsy antics, munching on Jungkook’s leftover fried chicken as you scavenger hunt his cupboards for anything that could satisfy your alcohol induced need for sweets and carbs. You’d begged for pancakes, but he didn’t have any honey, and what’s pancakes without honey, really? 

“Ramen. Enoki and spring onions.” He says, convincing himself more than he convinces you.

“Okayyyyy. Ramen, enoki- what else did you say?”

His thumb and pointer finger rest at his temples in mock exasperation, making you giggle. “Hey, why don’t you go shower? This’ll be ready when you’re done.”

“Will you be able to work a knife with the thought of me all wet and naked in your shower?” 

“I’ll get you wet and naked later. Go sober up. Quick, quick!”

You laugh, kissing his cheek loudly and ruffling his hair before you leave the kitchen, making your way to his bedroom with familiarity - like you’ve done it hundreds of times and perhaps you have if you were to count. 

You know where he keeps the towels, that it’s the left tap that opens the hot water, the way his soap smells and what brand of shampoo he uses. His face wash and moisturizer are familiar to you because it’s the same brand you use. You’d left them here once and never got the bottles back. He began purchasing them after they ran out. 

You put on the same black Carhartt shirt you always do. It feels and smells the same. It makes you yearn and when you miss him, you smile in the comfort of knowing he’s in the kitchen, probably eating ramen from the pot as you take your sweet time in the bathroom. 

All clean and cozy, his house always being the perfect temperature with the add on warmth that swarms your insides at knowing you’re with him, you make your way back to the kitchen. He’s reaching for bowls, back to you and your voice startles him when you say,

“Don’t get dishes dirty, let’s eat from the pot.”

He turns to you, a boyish smile forming on his lips at the sight of you in his comfy, oversized shirt. He’s seen you in it more times than he can count but it still makes his insides tingle. Butterflies, dare he say, is what the sight gives him. 

“You sure?”

“Aren’t you? Afraid of exchanging saliva?” You poke your tongue at him and he grabs your wrist, pulling you swiftly towards him. 

“Not the funnest way we’ve exchanged juices, but it’ll do for now.”

“Juices.” Your nose scrunches at his words.

“Mm.”

He kisses you, ramen getting cold in the pot as your lips make him forget all about his hunger in the first place. Your stomach doesn’t, though. Interrupting your heated little moment yet again. 

“Feed me.”

“On your knees, then.” He teases, lips still on yours. 

“That sounds more like a treat than a threat.”

He smiles, passing you the chopsticks. “I knew you’d say that.”

“Am I that predictable?”

“With me. Yes. Just me.”

His words are selfish, of this much he’s aware. He knows exclusivity is too much to ask for. He knows the baggage he comes with and the hesitation that shines through your eyes whenever you find yourselves slipping into comfort and familiarity a little too much. How he can almost tell he’s about to go a season without you, just by this comfort alone. But he can’t help but want you, all to himself. He can’t help but say you’re his even if he’s just saying it. And when the smile on your lips meet your eyes in an almost nostalgic way, he knows you feel the same. 

“Yeah. I am.”

“I am with you, too.”

“I’d say I tried to talk myself out of texting you tonight, but I’d be lying.” Your chopsticks play with the noodles, eyes not meeting his. 

“Why would you talk yourself out of texting me?”

You shrug. 

“Don’t.” His voice is firm and your eyes finally look at his. “I’m always- I always want to see you, ___.”

“I know, it’s just- you know.” You say, and he does. He knows what you mean and he’s glad you don’t voice it because he doesn’t think he can bear the words that would only add insult to injury to the way your gaze falls, that spark threatening to dim its light.

“Yeah,” he gets closer, but it’s almost careful. His thumb caresses your cheek and you lean into his touch. “But you’re here now. I want you here now. Come back to me.”

You stare into his big eyes, smiling at him not because your heart isn’t breaking but because you wouldn’t dare break his with the reality of the situation. So you lie, but it holds truth. “I’m always with you.” 

As you two eat, in bursts of comfortable silences and mindless yet meaningful conversations, you start to get used to him again. You’re too tired to fight it, and when you welcome it, it’s sweet. 

~

The pot is empty, your bellies full. You lean against the counter as he puts you to date, catches you up on what his life has looked like for the past two months or so. Trips to L.A., New York, photoshoots, late nights in the recording studio, music videos, long flights and a Calvin Klein campaign you shamelessly admit to swoon over every time you pass by it. He asks about you and you keep your updates mostly work related. Long flights, long meetings, long days. Short bursts of inspiration and even shorter waves of motivation. You omit to tell him about the things you’re maybe not so proud of. The partying, the drinking on a wednesday night, the way your friends don’t feel like your friends anymore, more like acquaintances that keep you around when they deem convenient. You think his words could help, provide comfort and advice, but at the same time you fear the reality of the situation could burst the bubble of bliss you find yourself in right this moment. 

So you talk. You catch up. You play friends for a while, feel real mature when he shares snippets of his life that involve other people, other girls. People in his radar, his line of work, the love interest in his music video. Jungkook does, too. Feels like perhaps he’s come a long way when you tell him about trips you’ve taken with friends, new restaurants you’ve tried, galas he knows you haven’t attended alone. It’s all fine, it’s good. Total control of your feelings as you take each other in. 

Bam interrupts him mid-sentence, a sleepy whine in half protest he lets out as he walks inside the kitchen. 

“Aw, Jungkook,” you coo, “he’s sleepy.”

“Time for bed, Bamie?” He smiles, reaching down to scratch under his ears. “I’ll be right back.” 

“I’ll be here.” 

You smile, well aware that he keeps his dog bed in a cozy room in his house, quite literally puts him to bed every night. It makes you think about how good of a dad he’ll make one day, how much love is stored inside of him, how he likes to be needed and shows affection through acts of service. Your smile drops a bit, a feeling taking over you that you don’t like but have grown used to over the years. 

You snap out of it, busying yourself as you begin to tidy up the kitchen, sliding his pink rubber gloves over your hands before you start washing the single pot, knife and chopsticks he’d used to make you dinner. It doesn’t take him long to be back, though, walking back inside the kitchen and smiling at the sight before him. You hum a song he can’t make up, hips shimmying to the beat as you scrub the pot. Your shirt rides up a little and he cocks his head to the side, smiling at the way your underwear peeks from underneath the fabric. A black and lacy thong that has him nodding his head in boyish satisfaction. 

“You don’t have to do that,” he tells you, making you jump in place a bit at the sound of his voice.

You turn around, bringing a gloved finger to your lips as you shush him before you’re pointing it at the couch and shooing him away. “I’ll only be a second. Wait for me there.”

“‘Kay, boss.” He army salutes you, turning around and walking back to the couch, sitting down and sinking further into the cushions, legs spreading as he scrolls through his phone, a bit impatiently, missing you even though you’re so close. 

And to Jungkook’s great fortune, he doesn’t have to wait for much longer. Wrapping it up in the kitchen, you give it one last glance to make sure it’s back to its pristine state before you’re making your way towards him. He looks up at you, throwing his phone to the side and following you with his eyes, smiling when you’re in front of him.

“Thank you for dinner,” you say, voice sweet and low, eyes a bit hazy.

“Come here.” He takes your hand in his, pulling you closer to him, bottom lip getting caught between his teeth as you throw your legs at either side of him, straddling him. 

“I needed this,” you admit.

“Me too,” he breathes. “I’m glad you called.”

You pout, eyes looking up for a second as you ponder. “You called me.”

He chuckles, not a single ounce of desire to deny you. “I’m glad I called.”

You giggle, arms wrapping around his neck and fingers getting lost in his long hair. His head draws back as your nails massage his scalp gently and he relaxes at your touch, goosebumps adorning his skin. His hands travel under your shirt, promptly finding your hips, waist, and then threatening to go higher but Jungkook wants to take his time tonight. He wants to stay in the sweet state of wanting you for a bit longer. When his eyes are back on yours, you kiss him. He sighs against your lips, bringing you closer to him by the waist, letting his tongue taste your bottom lip before he’s tasting your mouth. It’s slow, a bit sloppy and lazy, holds the quality of anything that happens in the middle of the night, when no one’s watching and time stills for the two of you. 

“Your skin is so soft,” he says, lips still on yours. 

“It’s your body lotion.” You roll your hips over his, smiling when you pull a low groan straight out of him. 

“Yeah,” he says, hands traveling down before he’s squeezing your ass, guiding your hips into his. “You smell like me. I like it.”

“I like it, too.” Your words get caught up in a moan as the outline of his cock parts your slit perfectly. 

You pull away a bit hesitantly, hands coming to rest at his shoulders as your hips pick up the pace. You go slow but sink deeper into him with every roll of your lips, eyes never parting from his as you take in the way his face starts to contort in pleasure, mouth parting slightly as his breathing grows heavier, little grunts leaving his lips with every push and pull. His hands travel back down to your hips, squeezing a little at the soft flesh, guiding them as you move over his cock. He’s so hard, can feel you through the layers, can bet on the fact that you’re wet and pulsing for him right now. 

“That feels good,” he sighs, gaze dropping as he rides your shirt up a bit at the front. His eyes fixate on the way the thin, lacy fabric of your panties bunches up every time you throw your hips back. 

“Brings back memories,” you say, voice a bit shaky when a particular roll of your hips has the tip of his cock hitting right against your clit. 

Jungkook smiles, mind hazy but perfectly able to picture the memories you refer to. “Mhm,” he sighs, so entrapped by the feeling he swears he can feel you pulse against him. He likes the way you consume his senses. The way everything around him stills and all he can think about is you. His hands squeeze at the flesh on your hips before he says, “turn around, baby.”

“‘Kay.”

Jungkook feels the loss of your warmth as you stand up before him once again, smiling at him before you’re turning around and sitting on his lap. You press your back to his chest, letting your head fall to his shoulder, your lips meeting his cheek in an open mouth kiss. His hands travel up your body, palms closing around your tits, thumbs playing with your nipples over the thick fabric of your shirt. You circle your hips, chasing the same friction from before but it’s not enough in this position. You bring your body forward, hands resting on his thighs as you throw your ass back at him, your pussy perfectly aligned on top of his cock, making you both moan at the same time. Jungkook’s gaze drops to your ass, enthralled by the way he feels, by the way you look. He rides your shirt up your back, exposes you to him and it only eggs you on, moving against his cock at the perfect rhythm. 

He hooks a finger down the side of your panties, letting it travel down, smiling lazily at the way you trap his knuckles between your pussy and his cock, moaning as you grind on them. He can feel how wet you are, dripping for him already even though he hasn’t touched you yet. “Want my fingers, baby?”

“Yes, please,” you plead, voice shaky as you look back at him. 

He’d usually tease you, make you beg for it a little longer, but tonight Jungkook obliges. It’s been long – too long – and all he can think about is being inside you, feeling you around him, making you feel good. He takes his time simply so he can savor the moment. So he can memorize it well enough to store it somewhere inside of him, just in case it’s another three months until he sees you again. 

He pushes his middle and ring finger inside of you, hissing at your warmth, cock jumping inside his sweatpants in anticipation and a little big of neglect. You close your eyes, pleasure taking over you as he begins to thrust his fingers inside of you slowly, arching expertly every time they hit your g-spot. His free hand squeezes around your ass cheek, groaning when the hand that fucks into you pushes down on his cock, aiding at giving him some much needed friction. You feel lightheaded already, all-consumed in his hold as he takes over your every sense. Your body relaxes and you can feel the way your tummy tenses right away. 

“Fuck, I think I’m gonna cum,” your voice is faint but he hears you well enough. 

“Already? That was fast, baby.” You don’t miss the cocky tone his words hint at. 

“Shut up and don’t stop,” you say, looking back at him playfully. 

You see the way he smiles at you before his gaze is dropping back down, fingers moving expertly inside of you at the same pace, applying a bit more force as he pushes in, massaging that spot with the tip of his fingers. The added pressure has you mewling in no time, nails digging into his thighs, teeth biting at your bottom lip to ground you back into the moment as you let go. 

“Fuck,” he says as he feels you cum around his fingers, sweet moans filling the space around you and he so badly wishes he could look at your face right now. “Yeah, baby, that’s it.” He feels the way you contract around him, hips circling over his hand as you ride the waves of pleasure. 

You come down after a minute, mind still hazy as you fall back into him, lips finding his the moment he turns his head to the side. You kiss him, breathing into his mouth, smiling in your fucked out bliss. “That was so good.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm,” you say, pressing your forehead to his. “I need you to fuck me now.”

“Want it?” he asks, and you nod your head. “You can have it.” 

“Yeah, want it so bad, Jungkook.” Your voice is needy, holds a dreaminess to it that Jungkook doesn’t miss – one that makes him melt into your words, your touch, your lips as you kiss him again. 

Jungkook presses his hips into you, raising them a bit as he pushes his sweatpants down. You help him take them off, hand reaching back before you’re wrapping it around his cock. He’s hard and pulsing for you and if you weren’t pulsing for him, too, you’d probably want him in your mouth right this second. He feels heavy, big and thick in your hold, a grunt leaving his lips when your thumb circles around the head. You love how sensitive he is, how receptive. 

“Condom,” he says, before he runs out of blood in his brain and it all falls down to his cock. 

“In my bag,” you say, reaching to the side and pulling it towards you. You rummage around it for a second too long – a second that has Jungkook’s mind betraying him. He shouldn’t. He knows he shouldn’t. But nonetheless he can’t help but wonder where you’d be right now if he’d been asleep and hadn’t seen your text. Perhaps in the same position but with a stranger. Or maybe a stranger only to Jungkook. Perhaps he hadn’t been the only person you texted tonight. “Here you go, baby.” 

Your voice dismantles his worries and he’s warm again, all thoughts vanishing and it’s back to you and him. He leans forward, kissing your lips as he takes the condom from your hand. It makes you blush slightly, biting your lip in anticipation as you watch as he rips the foil of the packaging with his teeth. You watch the way he smirks as he rolls the condom on. 

“Why are you smiling?”

“Just thinking,” he says, smile growing wider, cheek dimples making him look cute but something about his voice begs to differ. 

You hum. “Thinking about what?”

He smiles. “July 14th, 2021.”

You both crack up, laughter filling the air the moment the words leave his mouth because of course you know what July 14th, 2021 meant. You’d been in a position very similar to this one, perhaps a bit more hazy minded, the true meaning of the heat of the moment finding you the minute you’d realized neither of you had a condom. You’d looked into each other’s eyes and made the silent agreement to be a little reckless and put a whole lot of trust on birth control and Jungkook’s pull out game. 

He said he’d never forget that day. 

“Long live, July 14th, 2021,” you say. 

“Shhh,” he says, squinting his eyes and bringing a finger to his mouth. “Don’t remind me.”

“You reminded yourself,” you bite back. “Now, can you fuck me? Pretty please.”

“Yeah, baby, come here.”

You push your ass back at him, looking at him from over your shoulder, biting your lip in anticipation as he strokes his cock once, twice, before he’s lining himself against your entrance. His hand comes to your hip, pulling you down towards him as you push him inside of you. You both sigh, moaning as he bottoms out, so deep and warm it has Jungkook throwing his head back against the couch, sinking further into it and pushing impossibly deeper into you. 

“Fuck, Jungkook,” you whimper, nails digging into his flesh. 

“Fuck me, baby,” he says, running a hand through his long hair. You nod, circling your hips a couple of times as you adjust to his size before you start moving your hips into him, ass bouncing with every push and pull. He hisses at the sight alone, bringing his hand down as he delivers a hard slap against your cheek, making you moan. “Shit, just like that. You’re so hot, ___.”

“Jungkook,” you whisper.

“Yeah, baby?” His eyes are back on yours, threatening to close in pleasure at the way your pussy feels around him. 

“I missed you.”

“I missed you, baby. So much.”

You fall into his chest, kissing him as he wraps his hand around your throat, not applying any pressure, just simply holding you. You gasp into his mouth when his other hand travels down and finds your clit, drawing lazy circles against the sensitive bundle of nerves. You whine and he moans when you move your hips to the rhythm of his touch.

“I don’t wanna be on top anymore,” you say, pouting into his lips, frowning when you feel his chest shake in laughter. 

“Of course you don’t.”

“I’m an awful top.”

“You’re not a top.”

“Hey, I was a good top that one time,” you protest.

“Mm, yeah, that was hot. You got all bossy on me.”

“Oh, but that’s regardless,” you tell him, pushing your lips into his once more and straightening your back, smiling as you look back at him. He wipes said smile off your face in a second, hand meeting your ass in another hard slap. 

“Stay there,” he says, holding firmly onto your hips. 

“Okay, daddy.” That earns you another slap, though you can’t say it wasn’t exactly the goal in mind. 

“Behave.”

Your face grows pliant as you nod at him and Jungkook has to fight to keep up the front because if he’s being honest, the sight alone drives him crazy, threatens to break him down completely and leave him a needy, whiny mess. He holds you in place, legs raising you up a bit before he starts pistoling his hips against you, fucking you hard and fast and even though you saw it coming, it still takes you by surprise. The force of his thrusts, how good he feels as the pain translates into pleasure, the noises he makes – it’s all too much but fuck, you don’t want him to ever stop. Your mouth parts in a silent moan, eyes closing as your face contorts in pleasure before the sensation ripples through you and you’re crying out. Your hand holds onto his arm and the firm grasp you have on it let’s him know.

“Fuck, I’m cummin,” you breathe out.

“Fuck yeah, baby. Cum all over my cock.”

“Oh my God,” you say, voice shaky and faint as you throw your body back into his. 

“Fuck, I love your pussy.”

“I love your cock,” you say, fucked out giggles escaping your lips. 

It takes you both a minute to steady your breathing and regain your strength. Jungkook kisses your neck, snaking a hand inside your shirt and squeezing your boob as you arch your back at the feel. “Let’s get you to bed, princess.”

“Music to my ears,” you say, giddy and excited. 

Your knees buckle a bit when your feet touch the floor, the both of you laughing at your loss of balance, Jungkook a bit more cockily than you. He slaps your ass softly once, then twice as you begin to walk towards his bedroom. Once inside he takes his shirt off and when you turn around, your eyes scan over his body, metaphorically and possibly physically drooling over him. Your hands find the hem of your t-shirt before you’re pulling it off your body and tossing it aside until it’s landing on top of his. Your tits bounce as you do, and he nods his head at you, a satisfied pout adorning his lips. The pout turns sour the moment you turn around but is soon enough replaced with a smile when you start to crawl on top of his big mattress, finding the perfect spot over his pillows and laying down comfortably. 

“You’re so perfect.” Jungkook says, because anything else would downplay it and he’s not in the mood to run away from the truth. You giggle, soft and sweet and he feels the way his heart aches for you inside his chest. 

“Come to me,” you say, arms outstretched towards him. He makes his way to you, letting himself hover over you for a minute as he takes you in before he’s falling perfectly between your legs. You kiss him, letting your fingers get lost in his hair, breathing into the kiss and you swear this moment is laced in pure, unadulterated bliss. “Want to feel you inside me.”

“I’ll give it to you, baby. I’ll give you anything you want.”

There it is, yet again, and without a fail. It’s so common you nearly miss it – the way the moment turns tender. It’s mostly soft, this unspoken agreement you’ve fallen into with Jungkook. It’s friendship and attraction, good sex and years of exploring each other. It’s trust and communication. It’s understanding. It’s soft at the beginning and tender halfway through. It’s so tender it feels tangible, like the moment itself could fit inside the palm of your hand and feel ripe to the touch as you hold onto it. It’s tender when he looks into your eyes, it’s tender when his voice says your name, when you kiss his lips. It’s tender when the lust borders on something else. It’s tender when it lingers, when it threatens to fall. 

He fucks you, hips moving against yours slowly, pulling moans out of your lips that get caught between his own when he kisses you. 

“You feel so good,” you whisper into his mouth, words that only he could hear even if it weren’t just the two of you. 

“Fuck, baby, so do you,” he whines, supple and yours, even if for that moment. “I’m not gonna last much longer.”

You smile, hand running through his hair before your fingers are pushing a strand behind his hear. “Cum for me, Kookie. Wanna feel you cum for me.”

Your words throw him over the edge, falling blissfully into you. It feels so fucking good. Your fingers running through his hair, down his neck and then back up again. The way your pussy clenches around him, cock throbbing for you at the wake of his release. Your lips are soft and the rise and fall of your chest falls into perfect sync with his. His hand squeezes at your breast before it’s traveling down your body, squeezing at your thigh before you’re wrapping your legs around his waist, flushed to him. Every little thing you do heightens his senses until all he can breathe, think and feel is you. His face falls down the crook of your neck and you breathe out a moan into his ear, unraveling him completely.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum, baby.” His hips slow down before they still completely, a moan passing his lips as he releases into the condom, your nails softly running down his spine. His body feels spent but he doesn’t miss the way it relaxes on top of you, blissful and peaceful, growing sleepy right away. 

“Feel good?” you ask, your fingertips running down his back in what feels like a feathery whisper. 

“So fucking good,” he mumbles against the skin of your shoulder before his eyes are finding yours again. He kisses you. He kisses you because in moments like this he wants to say something else, something that makes more sense to his heart than anything his brain could say.

You kiss him back, afraid your heart will betray you, too. 

~

You stare at him as you make your way back to his bed. He lays on his tummy, cheek pressed against the soft pillow, his pretty hair framing his face in a way that makes him look dreamlike. He doesn’t move an inch when you pull back the covers, if only for a second, to get back in bed with him. You lay on your side, eyes still fixed on him and your heart grows a new kind of tender at the sight of his sleeping form. He’s pouty and soft and so, so peaceful. Something sinks in your tummy, but it’s not in a way that signals bad news. Perhaps it’s the butterflies settling, perhaps the heat of the moment has began to cool down. 

Your hand comes to his face, fingers gently pushing his hair out of his eyes before you let them wander down his face. His cheeks are soft, his ears cold and when it tickles, he frowns. Your thumb travels up again, smoothing his brow bone and he relaxes. Your eyes follow your touch as you trace the bridge of his nose, slowly, softly, as if you were being quizzed on it later. Wanting to take everything in, afraid that even blinking could take away from the moment. And when your finger lands on his lips, you trace that too the way your own did only minutes prior. 

His eyes begin to flutter, a failed attempt to open them but you know he’s partially awake from the smile that pulls at his lips. You feel it on your finger before your eyes meet his gesture and when they do, you close them instinctively, leaning over and kissing him. His body can’t respond to his brain right now, exhausted and more asleep than he is awake, but he hums in satisfaction, lips puckering as he tries to give into his instincts. 

“Let’s have breakfast together tomorrow,” he mumbles against your lips. “I’ll go buy honey and make you pancakes.” 

You smile, though he can’t see, and perhaps it’s for the best. Your voice is a whisper when you say, “deal.”

His smile is the last thing you see before you fall asleep.

~

[glossysoap]

thinking abt possessive sex with price <3 but to make it even better? you’re not even together yet.

18+ afab and fem reader, written with fat reader in mind but can be read size neutral, forced eye contact, overstimulation (from previous orgasm), possessive sex

Thinking about his hairy chest against your back, leaving you all warm and sweaty. He has one strong arm holding your stomach and the other hand grabbing your jaw, forcing you to maintain eye contact with him as he bottoms out inside you over and over.

The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room as he ruts into you over and over, cock plunging inside your soaked cunt. Your own cum and juices had mixed with his pre, creating a seal around your hole and trickling down to his thighs.

If you ever squeezed your eyes shut from the overwhelming pleasure, he would click his tongue in disapproval before giving your face a tug to put you back in your place.

“Eyes on me.” He would order in a husky tone, leaving no room for disobedience, accidental or otherwise. You’d let out a little yelp and your eyes would fly open, immediately locking with his eyes again. “That’s it. Keep your eyes on me.”

“Look at your Captain while he’s filling up your cunt.” Then he would smirk at how your pussy clenched around him at those words.

Thinking about his stormy blue eyes burning into your glossed over gaze, his expression betraying how much anger and hunger burned in his core.

Anger from witnessing some rank and file soldier flirting with you. And even if you weren’t really together, he couldn’t help but feel a fraction of the anger towards you for not rejecting the soldiers’ advances. You should know better. You should know that the only one who could really please you was your Captain. The only one that was allowed to feel the stretch of your cunt around his cock was your Captain.

His brows furrowed and his jaw clenched, nostrils flaring with every huff and groan.

“Mm, fuck!” He curses when he feels you squeezing around him so tight. practically milking him dry.

Not only were the whines and whimpers you were making so embarrassing, but the wet noises your cunt made with every thrust only made your cheeks burn even more.

You were so fucking wet, he always made you so fucking wet.

His cock was stretching you out and filling you up so fucking good, it made that coil in your stomach tighten. It was too much and not enough, all at the same time.

It didn’t help that he had already pulled out an earth shattering orgasm from you minutes prior.

“C-cap, fuck—,” You whimper brokenly, nails digging into his muscular arm as you clutched onto the one that’s holding your jaw. Your hips jolted and your legs twitched.

Your hips kept bucking and jolting, almost like you were trying to run away from the overstimulation, but he was having none of it.

“What? ‘S it too much? That tight cunt too sensitive?” He mocks, his voice all husky and full of gravel. All sweet and faux sympathy, as if he really planned on stopping any time soon.

Not a chance.

“Yeah, fuck! T-too much!” You whine, voice cracking as he just kept pounding your sore pussy without a care in the world. He didn’t hear a safe word.

He just smiled as he pressed his lips to your neck, his beard scratching against your skin. He could feel your pulse race under his mouth as he leaves wet open mouthed kisses along your jugular.

“This fuckin’ cunt is mine,” He all but growls into your ear, his gravely voice sending chills down your spine and straight to your core. “And so are you.”

©️ glossysoap 2024. please do not steal, copy, plagiarize, translate, or repost any of my works without my permission.

[cherriesnpapaya]

Fashion Killer - LN

In which Mr Norris is left speechless over a sundress.

Warnings: NSFW - smut. unprotected sex, oral (both male and female receiving / giving), friends with benefits, soft dom!lando,

Lan <3 - are you coming to the race?

Miami Grand Prix. In which the men on the grid couldn’t get away from models. Families definitely weren’t invited to this exhilarating mess of a weekend.

On my way sweet cheeks, please find me the coldest drink you can. - sent

Lando couldn’t care less what model they had behind him, trying to seem interested in the sport. He was watching her walk to the paddock in that ridiculously perfect sundress.

Loose, hung perfectly over her american doll legs. The cream of the linen light and only complimented by her brunette hair curled to perfection on her sides. He could practically feel how soft the stands felt as his hands gripped his bottle.

The tan she sported a crude reminder of her skimpy attire she had been living in whilst they lounged around the villa the last few days. He got them the quiet space, filled it with his friends to distract everyone and then revelled in her presence.

Bright smile on her cheeks as she waved for the cameras. Max Fewtrell by her side as they came to join Norris after supporting Fewtrell with his racing activities.

“How are you dressed in that.” She groaned, slipping onto a stool next to him. Lando had to peel his eyes off her legs before he ditched the car to catch a ride instead.

“My job, honey.” He chuckled, holding out his bottle for her. Bad idea.

He watched her lips wrap around the straw. He’s taken back to when he was teaching her how to use the bottles, and somehow ended up with a blowjob.

Final calls were being made to start the pre race media, so Lando stood up and opened his arms for his friends to fall into them.

“Go get em tiger.” She chuckled, the bottle handed back to him with the deep pink stain of her lipstick around the top of it. God how Lando wished to be a straw.

He certainly got them, coming first place for the first time in his career. He dripped with sweat, and some water he’s poured over his face, gleaming ear to ear. His tan still deep golden next to his orange suit.

The celebrations were never ending. From the crowd, his team, other garages and of course his fellow drivers. They poured into his villa, music and drinks flowing freely. The hum of chatter with the occasional cheer as the winner would join conversations. He worked his way round, trying to find the girl he’s been thinking about every second of the day.

“Thought I’d lost you.” He made her jump, slipping into her room. She turned from her position in front of the mirror, earrings in hand.

“I was just going to change.”

“But you look fit.” He could help but speak his mind. The filter between them had been lost about 6 shags ago.

“Have caught you staring a few times.”

“Oh no, punish me for my crimes please.”

He sneered, falling back onto the plush white bed. She rolled her eyes, placing the earrings down. The carpet muffled her steps, letting her slip between his open legs quietly.

“Aren’t you meant to be celebrating?” She teased, arms crossed as he peaked a look at her:

“I am, what’s my prize?” He hummed, sitting up to place his hands on the back of her thighs. Cheeky eyes gazed up at her, watching as her lip caught between her teeth. His thumbs worked circles into the soft skin. She didn’t know if she was desperate, but it felt like they slowly moved inwards.

The music vibrated through the floor, which she was quick to notice when she dropped to her knees. Lando couldn’t help the smirk taken over him, quickly removing anything in the way. He propped back on elbows as she finally took him into her hands.

Profanities rough from his throat as she took him down hers, tongue tracing the vein down the side of him. Bobbing her head, tongue piercing running over his top just how he liked. He throbbed, excitement having built up all day. She hummed, smirking when his head would fall back from watching her.

“Shit baby c’mere.” He ran a hand over her jaw, pushing her off his stained cock. He had the stamina for races in incredible heats, but she knew just how to ruin a man. He slipped off his tshirt in a blink, hands back glued to her hips as he pulled her to straddle his legs.

When she moved to slip her dress off, he caught her wrists, pushing them behind her back to drop them there. Her insides giddy with the move, grinding down slowly on his crotch.

“No chance. You’ve been teasing me with this all day.” He spoke against her neck, leaving sloppy kisses and sucks on any exposed skin. She didn’t even notice his fingers lingering over her panties, moving them to the side.

“Lando.” She whined, arms now hooked around his neck. He kneaded her arse, hips, tits as he sunk into her slowly. Her head rolled, moans covered up by the sounds of some asap song underneath them.

He could barely speak, weak moans fell from his open mouth as she took more control. Moving up and down at her own speed, occasionally rolling her hips to get him to hit that one spot.

She gasped, eyes shut as she rolled continuously into the same spot. Lando knew the tightness, he knew what it meant for you to get close.

“Just like that pretty girl.” He cooed, fingers brushing slowly over her clit in an aggravating manor. A string of swear words left the previously painted lips as she rolled, now mixing between rutting against his fingers and his cock.

Thank god for the loud music as she came for the first time that night, her body spasms into his as the rocking comes to an end.

“You good?” He checked, hands playing with the hem of her dress.

“So good.” Practically drooling, Lando chuckled at the cock drunk girl slumped into him. He attached his lips to hers, lifting her up to swap them around. Her legs rested over the end of the bed, not having a chance to even prop herself up before Lando licked a stripe through her folds.

It was a guilty pleasure of Lando’s, enjoying her body’s reactions to the way he rolled his tongue over her bud. Her legs wrapped around his head, before spreading again as she ran her fingers through his curls. She moaned out as Lando spat into her opening, the smile on his lips almost pushed her over the edge itself. And there she came, for a second time.

“You’re so gorgeous.” He complimented, overwhelmed by the look of her on the bed currently. Fucked out, face flushed and smiling. Hair sprawled out over the mattress, looking like a goddess. It made him harder to just look.

“Fuck me Lando.” She pulled him back in, heel digging into this back causing him to practically fall forward. He pretended to be shocked, moving her ankles to hang over her shoulders as he got right back to it.

“So fucking tight.” He hissed, fucking in and out of her and she swore he was in her stomach. He knew he was nearly fucked out, her nails digging into his stomach hinted the feeling was mutual.

Before he could pull out, he was pushing the warmth into her further. Moaning out probably a bit too loud, stilling completely as they both caught their breaths. Once he had pulled out, he was helping her clean up, pulling the dress back down to sit perfectly again.

“Wear that dress for me again sometime.”

“That’s a boyfriend privilege Norris.”

——————

Thank you for reading! New to the scene, so send any prompts/inspo over. I hope to write lots more for ya ;)

[mattsstarlet]

ੈ✩‧₊˚ texts with fwb! chris

pet names, suggestive.

© 𝗆𝖺𝗍𝗍𝗌𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗋𝗅𝖾𝗍

note: apple pay looks so fake sorry y’all. anyway hope u enjoy i loved making this.

[allurilove]

Camp Counselor x you

Rated 18 + — mature short content !

Includes: yandere best friend x fem reader, you guys are both camp counselors, bimbo reader, protective and obsessed behavior, mentions of blowjobs, fingering, manipulation, sort of fwb, he's whipped for you.

*Finally a yandere with a name! He goes by "Pres" or "your best friend." I should be working on other stuff soon, but I can't focus for some reason. LOL! Maybe yandere husband part four next, or the superhero. This is purely fictional writing!*

Synopsis: Your best friend convinces you to go to this remote camp deep into the woods with him. He marketed it as a fun paid getaway, but he was ready to taint your innocence.

You’re the exact person he would go for, and the one he’s been wanting to fuck. He wouldn’t dare to toss you aside like all the other women he’s been with. No, he wants you forever. You're his.

Being a camp counselor with your friend was hard. He had the hots for you, and that was pretty clear. Your best friend was named after the late famous singer Elvis Presley. His parents went absolutely crazy for the rock and roll musician, so much so that they named their son “Presley.” But he went by “Pres,” wanting nothing to do with the man he doesn’t even like.

Pres was a hot-headed and flirtatious nineteen-year-old who was only nice to you. He was a bit troubled and rough around the edges, smoking pot and drinking beer whenever he could. He got into a lot of fights, and most of them were because of you.

You were sweet, bubbly, and innocent. You had a tight, round ass that drove him wild, your hair always blowing in the wind, and your mini clothes accentuated your body perfectly. He bought you anything you wanted and did whatever you asked. Despite his tough exterior, he was a mushy, gushy guy on the inside.

He was your closest childhood friend, always coming to your house for years without a single break. Pres told you about the job, shoving the flyer in your face, and he raved about the opportunity. Money, sleeping in cabins, and taking care of kids—it all seemed pretty easy. It also meant he could have you all to himself for three whole months!

The day before the kids arrived for the summer, the counselors had one last meeting. You were able to check out the cabins, rest up for the night, and be well-rested for the morning. That was until your friend snuck out of his cabin and came to yours.

He tiptoed quietly, clinging to the shadows as he looked around to see if his supervisors were nearby. Slowly, he inched closer to your window. Your friend had told you to keep it unlocked, so he hoped you had listened. He let out a small grunt as he used his biceps to lift the window, which slid up smoothly.

“Oh would you look at that?” He muses, pushing his body though. He eyed you up and down, noticing how you were already in your pink silk nightgown. “Now that’s the prettiest sight I’ve ever seen.”

All of the boring and long hikes to see a couple of mountains meant nothing in comparison to this. Seeing you in your room with lit candles all around, your legs apart, and your supple breasts covered by thin fabric was captivating. His feet found footing on your carpet as he approached closer to your sleeping form. That night, he slept right by your side, not wanting to leave you for a single moment.

You both teetered on the line between just being friends and being lovers. He would try to convince you to make out with him. You were just his type: ditzy, pretty, and downright adorable. He could show you a good time if you let him. His hands would rest on your hips, lovingly rubbing your sides up and down, occasionally slipping lower to your ass.

Presley convinced the kids assigned to you to hang out with his group, all so he could pull you into the woods and put on a cute display. He showered you with little kisses on your neck, his deep, rumbling voice cooing swoon-worthy words, and his brown eyes held so much warmth and affection. It was enough to convince you to get down onto your knees, his cock already pulled out of his tan shorts.

You’re a hot babe. Even hotter with your lips around the head of his cock. It must've been your first time, or you were just struggling with his length. Pres guided your head up and down, and with a loud grunt he came inside your mouth. He would tell you that you did amazing, help you wipe your mouth clean, and he’ll return the favor.

He doesn't understand what personal space even means. Your bed was his, and his was always open for you and only you. Once he got his rowdy kids to settle down in their bunk beds, was the moment he had you trapped outside, his fingers soaking in your cunt. He had his hand around your mouth, his knee pushing your legs apart, and his fingers kept pressing against the spot that had your head spinning.

No matter what he does, you still think you guys are just friends. Even if that word does irk him, he'll use it to his advantage. Showering with him was something friends do, so you can’t really say no. Him helping you clean every crevice of your body was just him being nice. Him choosing specific outfits that he wants to see you in was only because he was a 'fashionista.' He barely gave you any time to argue back when he stuffed your body into the swimsuit in the dead of night.

Pres tried his hardest to woo you. On lake day, he would pull off his shirt, muscles on display, and jump into the water. When he came up to the surface, his hair glistening in the light and his body dripping wet, he would try to catch a fish—doing manly things to show off. If that didn’t work, he would walk inside with you to the grand hall, where he’d make friendship bracelets with you. You were happy to do simple things like that, and he’d even make flower crowns with you.

The yandere was a competitive and athletic man. He would win at all of the games—tug-of-war, rock climbing, and don’t even mention any sort of crossword puzzle near him. All of his winnings would go to you. The chocolate gold coins from See's Candies were yours, the tiny trophy he got for catching the most fish was in your hands before you could blink, and the whittled statue of a moose from capturing the prettiest pictures was promptly put into your bag.

He had his softer moments: carrying your suitcases for you and putting them into the shuttle when camp ended, wrapping his jacket around you when you shivered, and letting you have the window seat because you liked to sightsee. He would remember your favorite snacks (he forced himself to like the same things) and offer his arm to be used as your pillow during the drive.

Right when he thought the relationship had progressed into something more, with your head resting on his shoulder, you said the words he didn’t want to hear: "You're the greatest best friend I have ever had."

Ah, shit. Seriously?

“Mhm, yeah, yeah,” he said unenthusiastically with a slight eye roll, and he gently patted your head. “Just go to sleep.”