#his marshmallow lips in these pictures !!
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doll-elvis · 2 years ago
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MARTY LACKER: Beginning about ’70, Elvis started wearing tinted glasses night and day. He had reading glasses, but he’d only wear them upstairs where no one could see him.
LAMAR FIKE: I bought the original ones at a gas station for $3.50. Elvis grabbed ’em right off my face. He said, “I want these. Let me have ’em.”
and I’m so glad he did 🥵
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(excerpt from “Elvis and the Memphis Mafia”)
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coffee-and-geto · 2 months ago
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“YOU WOULDN’T LIKE ME WHEN I’M HUNGRY!”
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“Just warm? I thought you meant I was hot, hot.” “Hot, hot?” “Yeah, I guess I’m a handsome guy, am I not?” You snort. “And so full of yourself.”
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pairing: werewolf! satoru gojo x f!reader | kinkoctober
summary: since you were kid, you’ve been friends with satoru gojo. having grown up in the same village, it’s perfectly normal to meet up, laugh in front of a campfire and reminisce about the good old days, isn’t it? not the place or the time to confess your true nature, hmm?
warnings: +18 only, smut, nsfw, childhood friends to lovers, both lived in a small village, firecamp mood, sex (p in v), fingering (f!receiving), doggy style, handjob, bredding kink, full moon, nipple play, dirty talk, talking about being parents, fluff, (if you wanna picture werewolf like it’s same as jacob in twilight).
wc: 3,568
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“I’m a werewolf.”
Those words, whispered in the silent night — or almost silent. Unless you count the cicadas’ songs that break the inaudible, sacred stillness of the dark. Under a sky where stars shimmer and the village campfire is the main source of light, casting a fiery glow in Satoru's eyes as he looks at you.
The dry, earthy ground, the scent of pine trees, roasted marshmallows, and the laughter of other young villagers — all back for the famous autumn full moon.
And you, sitting beside your childhood friend — Satoru Gojo.
Who utters words you never thought you’d hear from him, whispered without a care about being overheard. His azure gaze fixed on yours, as though searching the depths of your soul for any reaction besides your obvious shock.
With his hands pressed against the dry ground, his long legs stretched out, his torso turned toward you — every ounce of his attention captivated by you and only you.
As it always has been, hasn’t it?
And out of all the things he could have confessed, this declaration is what passes through his lips, cutting short your laughter and turning it into a gasp.
Then nothing. Silence.
“You— Satoru, what?”
And oh, how he could have fallen for that little frown of yours, so confused, so lost, so utterly adorable.
But he doesn’t repeat his words. He just watches you, lips flat but eyes replacing the smile you knew so well. The glow of the flames licking the campfire’s wood casts orange hues across his face like a phantom’s shadow.
Swallowing hard at his lack of reaction, you glance around, disoriented — your village, your family, your friends, your neighbors. No one seems the least bit troubled, nor does it seem like they’re paying attention to your conversation.
“Sweetheart.”
The nickname makes your panicked heart swell, and Satoru gently anticipates your next move. His rough, warm hand rests over yours, silently asking you not to worry.
“I always thought you’d figure it out on your own one day,” he murmurs.
“What do you mean?” you reply, and he can’t help but chuckle — a low, rumbling sound that almost seems wolfish.
“All the stories since we were kids.” He pauses, giving you time to process. “Our parents told us, and it’s also the history of the village.”
“A story is just a story, Satoru.” You pull your hand from his and prepare to stand up.
Enough with the tasteless jokes.
“This isn’t funny.” And his little heart breaks, because he hates the annoyed tone you take, though he still tries to salvage the situation.
Why the hell did he blurt it out like that?
“Wait, sweetheart,” Satoru pleads, his voice low and husky. His large, warm hand gently catches yours, urging you to sit back down. But as you persist in pulling away, he ends up confessing in desperation, “Am I disgusting to you?”
This time, it’s not the night’s silence that overwhelms you but Satoru’s puppy-dog eyes. Like he’s afraid you’ll walk away from him forever.
“Disgusting? Satoru…” You pinch the bridge of your nose and sigh. “You know I hate your jokes, and—”
“I’m not lying.” He presses his hand desperately over yours, tugging slightly to make you sit down again. “Do you want me to show you?”
Your eyes widen. “Excuse me? Here? In front of everyone?”
“Everyone already knows. You��re the only one blind to it,” Satoru breathes, standing gracefully without ever letting go of your hand.
“What are you even talking about? And where are you taking me?” you protest, stiffening your legs so he won’t drag you away. But he only chuckles softly, turns toward you, and suddenly hoists you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes (yes, really — nothing more, nothing less).
Only a chuckle answers your protests as you weakly pound your fists against his perfectly sculpted back under his white t-shirt, hiding so much more beneath.
“Satoru fucking Gojo!”
“Hmm, so Satoru is gay and he fucks Gojo?” He bursts into laughter at his own joke, tightening his grip to keep you from falling as he carries you further into the forest of tall pines that have watched you both grow up.
Yet you persist, thrashing about to make him let go — but in vain.
He walks surprisingly fast, as if guided by some instinct, knowing exactly where he’s going. Or maybe he’s been here countless times when you weren’t around — or when you were asleep?
When he finally stops, Satoru carefully sets you down and presses his lips together to stifle his laughter at the sight of your disheveled hair and utterly defeated expression.
Heat rises to your cheeks as you turn your back on him, trying to fix your hair. Your gaze lands on the river running through the forest, its surface shimmering under the moonlight tonight.
Lips press a kiss to your cheek, and you shove Satoru away as he laughs, delighted by your tomato-red face.
“Stop it.” You punch his chest, though he doesn’t budge an inch.
It’s like hitting solid concrete — only slightly softer.
He takes advantage of your moment of confusion to step back and peel off his t-shirt, revealing his muscular chest, pale skin, and far-too-defined V-line.
Your eyes dart away from the sight he’s offering, one even the moon seems to embellish with its rays. But then the sound of a belt buckle clicking open makes your eyes widen.
“Satoru, don’t you dare—”
“Relax, I just don’t want to tear my clothes while transforming. How else am I supposed to get back home after?” He chuckles, giving you time to turn around and offer him some privacy.
You can feel his damned smirk, but you swallow down yet another sharp retort.
It’s always been like this with him. He’d tease you, you’d say you didn’t like it, and then chase him around while convincing yourself it wasn’t funny  —  ignoring the laughter that always bubbled in your chest.
At school, it was the same story. You were practically glued to each other, one always with the other. A constant war between two friends competing over anything and everything. Who would leave the haunted house first, who would blink first, or who could sleep without a nightlight after yet another story about the village’s werewolves.
Since you were kids, you hardly ever kept secrets from one another.
So why does this unpleasant sound of bones cracking and flesh tearing behind you feel both so new and so familiar?
Has Satoru always carried this secret within himself when you spent your evenings together watching movies? Had he tried to tell you, leaving hints for you to eventually uncover the truth?
All those times he managed to climb impossible places no ordinary human could, or when he walked past you and, with one sniff, could tell if you’d changed shampoo?
Or how he seemed to turn into your personal bodyguard at least once a month, and anyone who dared hurt you ended up with a broken limb?
Since middle school, he had always seemed more mature despite his jokester nature. And his physique — how drastically it had changed when he turned 18. If it hadn’t been for the Satoru you knew, you would never have guessed that back then, he was just a young adult.
And now in college, the two of you seemed like proper adults.
Real, young adults, still friends.
Even if kissing your friend on the cheek isn’t exactly common?
Even if sleeping in the same bed with nothing but cuddles and hugs isn’t normal?
Even if you’d both seen each other practically naked under the right circumstances without either of you daring to ogle the other?
A bark snaps you out of your thoughts, and you turn around with a start.
Standing before you is a massive wolf-dog with snow-white fur tinged with silvery hues, and cerulean blue eyes piercing through the forest's shadowy darkness.
You freeze in place, staring at the creature before you. It is both majestic and terrifying.
“Satoru?”
The white wolf barks and rushes toward you, affectionately nuzzling his nose against your stomach before moving up to lick your chin. If it weren’t for his sheer size, he might’ve been mistaken for a puppy.
A tender smile spreads across your lips, and you stroke Satoru’s head, his fur so soft and cool you can’t resist planting a small kiss on it.
“You’re gorgeous.” Another kiss on his snout earns a bark that sounds like joy. “And so cute, and so big, I’d hold you like a plushie all the time if I could.”
He lets out a soft growl against you, lifting his front paws to rest them on your shoulders. In the background, his bushy white tail wags happily.
You cup his face in your hands, noticing the glint of his sharp teeth as he opens his mouth slightly.
“You’re not scary,” you coo, kissing the top of his head, and he squeals in appreciation. “And you’re not disgusting at all, I swear.”
He barks happily once more before bounding away, running around wildly before stopping to howl at the moon.
The sound is so powerful that a shiver runs down your spine.
~~~~
Back in the village, Satoru is already back in his normal form, and you scream in terror when you find him standing completely naked in front of you, a mischievous smile playing on his lips before he puts on the clothes he had tossed onto a fallen tree trunk.
No one seems to notice that you’ve just witnessed a werewolf transformation. According to Satoru, it’s simply because you haven’t realized that nearly half the male population of the village shares the same condition.
On this full moon night, new werewolves are being initiated, others are transforming just for fun like Satoru (since it’s the only time he can do it freely without going mad for the rest of the month while waiting for the next full moon), while some are engaging in reproduction.
Because, as he tells you, a full moon means mating season for werewolves.
But tired of it all, you head back home, with Satoru following closely behind—where no one will return for quite some time.
You collapse onto your bed, immediately curling up under the blanket before scooting over to make space for Satoru.
He doesn’t waste any time.
He slides in beside you, wrapping his strong arms around you to warm you with his naturally higher-than-average body temperature.
“You’re going to be useful in the winter,” you giggle, closing your eyes with a smile, your back pressed firmly against Satoru’s warm chest.
“I’m pretty hot, huh?” he murmurs into your hair, placing a welcome kiss there. No need to wonder what he means anymore, right?
“Mh-hmm,” you hum. “Like a warm comforter.”
Satoru frowns. “Just warm? I thought you meant I was hot, hot.”
“Hot, hot?”
“Yeah, I guess I’m a handsome guy, am I not?”
You snort. “And so full of yourself.”
His embrace tightens around you, and he grazes his lips against the shell of your ear. “Am I?”
“Admit that you aren’t just hot in both ways,” you mutter.
“Because there is a third?” he asks, his breath tickling you.
“Don’t act innocent.”
He settles his head fully onto the pillow, the moonlight filtering through your window caressing his flawless face. “Never said I was.”
And he chuckles when you huff.
Then he returns to his original position, pulling you closer to his chest before gently running his hand along your forearm. His touch is warm, inviting, mischievous—yet affectionate, asking for nothing but a little more closeness.
You sigh, closing your eyes, slightly parting your lips as you let the back of your head rest against his neck.
He takes advantage of your vulnerable position, sliding his arm around your waist and closing any remaining space between you. His thumb traces slow, soft, patient circles over your stomach. Each motion makes you crave more.
So you shift slightly, freeing your torso to give him access to your neck, where his warm, steady breath teases your skin. He must feel it by now—the way your heart races in your chest, how your breathing grows quicker, shallower.
And Satoru, in his sly delight, doesn’t react more than you desire.
He simply lowers his nose to the hollow of your neck and shoulder, brushing his lips against your skin, resisting the primal urge to claim you as his. To mark you as his own.
So you move again, giving him full access to mark your bare neck or shoulder, your ass pressed firmly against him, wriggling just a bit to adjust—or perhaps not.
Satoru presses his lips together as he feels a surge and a quickening heartbeat in his pants, blood rushing to the area. Giving in, he sinks his mouth onto your neck, planting open-mouthed kisses, the wet, noisy sounds of his lips against your skin sending shivers of pleasure through you.
You press yourself impossibly closer to him, guiding one of his large hands to your breast. Your back arches so deliciously against him as he cups the soft mound in his palm.
Between the kisses that turn into hickeys along your trapezius and his hands kneading your breast, teasing your hard nipples, you reach for his other hand with a soft whimper and guide it under your shorts.
He doesn’t waste a second, his already warm hand finding its way to your already puffy clit. He rubs slow, torturous circles, spreading your wetness over it to make things easier. You are now reduced to shallow pants and lewd, adorable noises.
“F-Fuck, Toru,” you whisper, looking up at him with pleading eyes.
“Let it go, sweetheart,” he murmurs, toying with your intimate area, using his middle finger to spread your lower lips and gently pat your drenched entrance, the tight little ring of resistance testing his patience. “Will you let me take care of you?”
You nod, your eyes fluttering shut as you moan his name again when he breaches the soft, wet resistance of your entrance. His middle finger slips inside you, gently parting your walls as he seeks out that one sweet spot that makes your toes curl.
When he finds it, he rubs it gently, drawing gasps from you while his forefinger plays with your clit, his other hand busy tugging and twisting your nipples under your shirt. He bites down on your neck, slurping your soft skin before pumping his finger into you.
“Feels good?” he asks in a hoarse voice. The sound of him like this — taking care of you while pressing his hardness against your ass — is almost as good as what he’s doing to your body. You squirm against him, relishing the way your movements draw a throb from his length. It feels like he’s about to cum in his pants.
“Such a tease, hmm? Didn’t know this side of you,” he whispers into your ear, sliding a second finger inside you. He thrusts both digits knuckle-deep, curling them perfectly.
You mewl, letting him feel your walls tightening and clenching around his fingers every time he brushes your sweet spot. The slick, wet sounds of your arousal make him groan — did you just throb?
“Close,” you warn, your body folding as the knot in your stomach tightens, teetering on the edge of release. You wince, struggling to control your shallow breaths as your orgasm approaches. “Please, Toru.”
“Cum, baby, cum,” he coaxes, his voice soft and encouraging as he thrusts his fingers deeper into you. His grip tightens on your breast, and his fingers work your clit with relentless precision.
A second later, you come undone, cumming hard on his fingers. Your walls spasm around them, coating them in your warm juices. You bury your face in the pillow, gasping for air as the pleasure courses through you.
Satoru carefully withdraws his fingers, bringing them to his mouth to taste you. “Hmm, tastes as good as I thought you would,” he hums.
“You thought?” you repeat, your voice feeble.
“I never said I was innocent,” he says, echoing his earlier words with a smirk.
“You thought about how I’d taste?” you ask, raising an eyebrow with a skeptical pout.
“Not exactly that dirty, but…” he presses a soft kiss to your temple, “Can you blame me?”
You chuckle softly, sliding your shorts and soaked panties off under the blanket, your thighs damp with sweat and slick. As you shift, Satoru pinches the soft flesh of your rear.
“Didn’t you say tonight was the werewolves’ breeding night?” you tease, a smirk playing on your lips. The mere sight makes him want to cum in his pants.
“Would you let me?”
“I’m just waiting for you,” you say, blowing out a breath.
At those words, he wastes no time, undoing his belt and sliding his pants and boxers down. A damp spot betrays how hard and ready he is, his tip already leaking.
You reach out, wrapping your hand around his flushed, twitching length. It jumps slightly as you stroke him gently, a naughty smile playing on your lips — a sight that nearly drives him wild. You lower your head, giving him a perfect view of your bare ass as you tease him.
Each stroke of your hand makes him bite his lip harder, suppressing a moan. He’s trying to stay composed — he’s a man, after all.
But when you guide his shaft to your swollen lips, rubbing his reddened tip back and forth against your slick entrance, it nearly breaks him. You coat his mushroom tip with your cum, then press it against your tight, dripping hole.
Satoru exhales a trembling sigh, gripping your hips as if to ground himself. His fingers tighten, promising marks that will bloom later on your skin.
“Lemme fuck you, please, sweetheart,” he groans, his voice desperate as he struggles not to buck his hips into you.
And you smile. Such a naughty girl.
You sit up, slipping off your top to feel freer, and then position yourself on all fours, lifting your hips to give him full access to your dripping pussy, which aches to be filled.
You giggle softly, wiggling your hips, burying your face into the pillow.
Satoru takes it as an invitation. He positions himself at your entrance, stroking himself a few times before sliding into you. The stretch is delicious, like something out of a dream.
Your whimpers fill the room, rising into melodic, lewd moans — music to his ears.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Satoru hisses, gripping your hips to pull you closer, sliding his cock all the way inside until his tip kisses your womb. When he bottoms out, he knows it.
Even though he’s on the verge of cumming, Satoru wants to make sure you cum with him — to breed you thoroughly. His babies. Making you a mom.
The thought makes his thrusts gentle at first, letting you adjust to his size. But when you push your hips back and babble for him to fuck you for real…
He snaps.
He’s pounding into you, his heavy balls slapping against your clit, adding to the obscene wet sounds filling the room. Your ass meets his hips again and again, your walls gripping him tighter each time he withdraws, only to pull him back in harder.
It’s not just your bodies syncing but your hearts too. Breathless pants, gasps, pleading moans, and filthy whispers intertwine, creating something sacred between you.
“Toru, ah, please, deeper,” you whine, your hands gripping the sheets as he fucks you so perfectly.
“Deeper?” he repeats, his voice teasing as he grabs your hair gently, pulling your head back to arch your spine. It gives him even better access to the sweet spot he intends to flood with his seed. “You want me to be a daddy? And you a mommy? Cute little werewolf babies?”
“Fuck,” you moan, clenching tighter around him. “I want it. I want to be full of your cum and have babies.”
“So good, so tight,” he groans, his thrusts relentless. “Promise. You’re mine, remember?” But your nod isn’t enough for him. “Say it, sweetheart.”
“I’m yours, I’m all yours, Toru,” you sob, tears streaming as you teeter on the edge. “I-I’m close,” you babble, your hips moving in tandem with his.
Satoru leans over you, his chest pressing against your arched back. His cock twitches as he growls, “Gonna take my load? Gonna cum so fucking much, yeah?”
One final thrust sends you both spiraling.
You cum hard, clenching so tightly around him that it’s a miracle his length fits inside you. He fills you with his warm seed, so much that it spills out in thick spurts.
Heartbeats pounding, breaths ragged, Satoru softens inside you, slowly pulling out. He kneels to watch the mix of your juices and his spill from your stretched hole.
He slides two fingers back in, gently pushing his seed back inside. “Need it to stay here,” he murmurs, patting your ass and pressing a kiss to your back. “Wanna go back to the village later?” Satoru asks.
You shake your head. “Just stay with me. With the future mother of your children.”
“Hmm, I think I can get used to this. Or maybe ‘wife’ is a better title?” He collapses beside you, a tired but peaceful smile on his face.
“Husband too,” you whisper, your voice filled with warmth.
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a/n: thank you guys to have read this silly fic <3 on my period rn and it sucks but anyway. lot of tests coming so i think the stress is the reason haha. this time i don’t have a lot to say, just that writing about satoru is the best thing lol. some memes about wolves come to my mind i just wanna add them somewhere lmao
like and reblogs are always appreciated as comments <33
tags: @ssetsuka @zara-zara11 @bearwithmoo @elliesndg @lymsfm @mutsu422 @elliesndg
@drippymcdrippison @koshhin @v31v3t @wawuwe @cybersomniq @sanemistar
@monokaix
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phone4pills · 2 months ago
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MAKE A WISH Chris x waitress!Reader
not proof read, long ass, don’t try if you’re lactose intolerant, london slander, send me asks about this pairing
The lone boy entered the diner, the doorbell above the sticker-loaded door ringing upon his arrival. He’d seen the bright ‘open’ sign above it on his way down the street. It was a particularly cool evening and he could’ve used a milkshake.
Finding a seat in one of the empty booths, he pulled his hands out of the pockets of his cargo trousers, opened the menu and instantly found the Shakes section. Listed were the flavours, each one as appealing as the last to Chris, who had quite the sweet tooth.
S’mores, Cherry Vanilla, Strawberry Shortcake, Oreo Cheesecake and Banana Split.
He couldn’t help but lick his bottom lip, already salivating at the thought of the S’mores shake in the huge glass, topped with whipped cream and stacked with delicious treats. Chocolate and marshmallows, as well as graham crackers and maybe even a couple sprinkles. Gosh, he was hungry.
“You know staring at the menu isn’t going to do much for your hunger. Trust me, used to do it all the time. Never worked.” His eyes peered up to be met with a distinct pair of large, pretty eyes staring back down at his under raised eyebrows. “Really?” He laughed, placing the menu flat on the table and turning his full attention to her. She nodded, pulling her notepad out of the back pocket of the light wash jeans that she had on. Her torso was clothed in a red shirt with the word ‘LONDON’ in large, pink letters on the front and her neck upwards was adorned with jewellery.
“London. You ever been?” Chris asked, eyeing the lettering on her baby-tee with a curious gaze. The girl looked down at the word painted across her chest for a split second, as though she had forgotten it was on her shirt. “Oh, yes. London, Kentucky.” His head tilted slightly before he nodded. “Right, right.”
“So, what can I get for ya…” The end of her sentence hung in the air and at that point Chris realised he hadn’t really introduced himself. He quickly told her his name and picked up the menu to relocate what he wanted. “I’d like a S’mores milkshake.” The girl scribbled down the order with immense pace and her head lifted again, redirecting her sight to Chris. “Anything else?”
He shook his head, closing the menu and placing it back in the holder. “No. That’ll be it.” Despite her confusion, the waitress shrugged her shoulders and offered him once last glance before departing on the words, “Suit yourself.”
Ten minutes fled by, all of which Chris spent scrolling through his camera roll of that day, attempting to decide which of the pictures he would post on his instagram. His brothers had texted him, wondering where he’d gone off to. He read their message, unable to find the care to respond. They knew he was alive with a phone, that was enough.
She returned with the gigantic shake in hand, carrying it with a delicate ease that drew Chris’ eye. He licked his lips when the girl placed the sweet treat on the table in front of him. She leaned on the booth across from him, cleaning down her hand on the pink apron that clung to her waist. “I’m y/n by the way, you forgot to ask.”
A heat rose to the boy’s cheek faster than a cheetah pouncing on its prey. She giggled, shrugging. “Don’t worry about it, usually people don’t ask. Just thought it would come in handy if m’gonna keep talking your ears off.” Chris nodded, taking a sip of the drink through the thick, glass straw. He found sweet and savoury flavours pouring into the canvas between his lips like warm paints from the palettes of a marvellous artist. His blue eyes lit up, only getting delighted in contrast to the dark curls that fell over his forehead, caressing his brows that were almost as dark.
She grinned, already used to this kind of reaction. One glance around was all it took for her to take a seat across from him, taking a quick, self-approved break from her job to talk to the cute boy she’d met. “So Chris, anything special that brings you here?” He nodded, swallowing the thick shake in his mouth, savouring the flavour that dripped down his throat like a spiky fountain. “S’my birthday today.” Her eyes widened, wondering why he was all alone.
“You celebrated with anyone today?” She hoped he’d say yes, even give a nod. She’d have hated to spend her birthday alone, and Chris seemed like a fun guy to be around, surely he couldn’t have spent his special day without anyone. “Yeah, with my two brothers. We’re triplets.”
“That is so cool. Are you the youngest?” She leaned closer. As if she weren’t already intrigued by Chris, now she had an even better reason to be absolutely fascinated. He gave her a nod, licking the whipped cream off the top of the shake. “How did you know?” She chuckled, using her thumb to wipe the whipped cream off his nose.
[Person change]
In that very moment, time seemed to slow as you locked eyes. You could feel Chris’ breaths on your face, that was only inches from his. You peered down at his lips, pink and plush as they were, you knew kissing them was the last thing you could do freely. You knew nothing about him. Was he even single? He couldn’t be with a pretty face like that. Was he into girls? Was he into you? You cleared your throat, quickly shuffling back into your seat. “Usually kids order the S’mores shake.”
Chris took a deep breath, as though he’d felt the heat of the moment too and needed to come back down from whatever cloud the two of you were riding. “Are you callin’ me a kid?” You quickly shook your head, explaining that you only felt a bubbly, youthful energy around the boy. His cheeks were still blush-covered, as though he was a watercolour painting with a layer of pink tinting his face. “You know what, I should get back to work. Take your time with that milkshake, we’re open all night.”
Chris nodded, eyes panning down your figure as you made your way back towards the counter. He hated to see you go, but he loved to watch you leave. Mindlessly sipping away, Chris barely realised how much darker the sky had gotten outside. He just wanted to have a moment to himself. Being an adult was more complicated than he’d expected, even for someone like him who was lucky enough to have fans all over the world to support him and his brothers.
He thought about you. They way you were around his age and working a night job. He thought about how that could’ve been him, how that is the life of so many people his age. And he spent his night partying and having fun without a care in his mind. Without a doubt or lick of worry about how much it would cost him or how tired he’d be the next morning. And Chris was ever so grateful.
The boy was so lost in thought, he didn’t even realise the crackles in the distance, getting closer and closer. It was only the familiar giggle that snapped his from his thoughts and he turned around to find you tiptoeing in his direction, balancing a chocolate cake with candles and sparklers. Intricate assortments of sprinkles and icing swirls decorate the exterior of the homemade dessert. No way. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing.
You finally reached the table, placing down the large plate in front of him and the smile that adorned his face was brighter than ever. Brighter than all the candle and sparks taking place on top of the cake. “Happy birthday, Chris.”
He wanted to cry. That entire time, from the point at which you placed down the cake to the moment you sat across from him, telling him it blow out all of the candles, nothing touched him like the smile that played on your lips when you said “Make a wish!” And you made him promise not to tell anyone. You fed him little pieces, laughing as he tried to catch all of the dessert that toppled off the fork. And he didn’t think his special day could get better. But you made that possible. You made it real.
After a long night, Chris finally received the bill. He’d expected it to have a read a longer list, but it was simple.
RECEIPT
s’ᴍᴏʀᴇs ᴍɪʟᴋsʜᴀᴋᴇ… $7.29
Total cost…. $7.29
Chris thought there had to be some mistake. Surely the cake and the extra service would cost him a little more. Plus, he wanted to see her one more time. Her smile was like a composition of melodies and rhythms formulated throughout time. Passed from generation to generation, surviving century after another as though the joyous expression possessed the sought after power of immortality. As though each pearly tooth was are token of the past, a timeless treasure worth more than humanely possible to discover in the limited space which is the imagination. As though each smile line, each crease and curve was the product of every face, married together by Mother Nature in the creation of another life, another soul. And so despite her ever so distinguishable and so difficult to miss spite for it, he loved her smile as an astronomer loves his stars. He loved her smile as a philosopher loved his literature. He loved her smile as a he loved all of her.
And he was set on calling her over again until he turned over the little slip of paper to read a note.
‘ 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘪𝘴 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘦, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘬 𝘮𝘦 𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘉𝘪𝘳𝘵𝘩𝘥𝘢𝘺 𝘉𝘰𝘺. (𝟾𝟻𝟽) *** **** ’
Tag list: @hearts4werka @pvssychicken @sturnslcver @sophand4n4 @sofieeeeex @lovingregulusblack @h3arts4harry @aalixsturns
AHHHHH, this shit took weeks of effort (and Ariana grande songs). But we’re here! I reallyyy hope you guys f with this because it’s long. Anyways this is how Chris and waitress!Reader meet. Their story begins here. There will be more posted in the AU and I have more Chris AUs in my MASTERLIST. Thanks so so so much if you made it here after all of that reading, it genuinely means a lot. Please consider reposting.
191 notes · View notes
cherienymphe · 2 years ago
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Bubblegum Bitch (Rafe Cameron x Reader)
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Warnings: NON-CON, attempted sexual assault, dumb!reader, bimbo!reader, kook!reader, underage drinking
➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies​ ​​
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summary: ...because you’re just too dumb to look out for yourself, Rafe takes matters into his own hands.
~
You hung onto Sarah as she helped you into her house, your ankle screaming in protest with every movement. You were thinking that maybe you should’ve listened to the blonde when she told you not to climb so high on the rock, but the sunset was too pretty, and you wanted to get the perfect picture. As much as your ankle was hurting, it was kind of worth it.
“Okay, sit here, and I’ll get some ice,” Sarah told you, depositing you on her couch.
“Okay!” you chirped, distracted as you flipped through your phone to study the pictures you took. “They came out so pretty!”
You showed Sarah as she neared, and she sent you a warm smile, a soft chuckle escaping her.
“Yeah, but next time, let’s come up with a less dangerous way to get the pictures,” she advised, bag of ice in hand.
You hissed a bit when the cold touched your skin, relaxing as it started to soothe the ache.
“Your mom would kill me if you got seriously hurt again.”
You knew what Sarah was referring to, of course.
That one time you were at a bonfire and leaned too far over to roast the marshmallows, something that took forever for that particular part of your hair to grow back from. Or that time you weren’t paying attention while dipping some punch at a party, and the glass bowl holding it all fell all over you, shallow cuts adorning your feet for weeks. Your face fell some as you thought about how mad your mom had been at Sarah for not looking out for you better.
It didn’t seem fair to you.
It’s not like you were some kid who couldn’t do anything right.
“It’s just a sprain…I think,” you added, shrugging. “She doesn’t have to know.”
Sarah gave you a look at that, and just then, movement on the stairs caught your attention.
You looked up, eyes landing on a familiar face, and you smiled at the sight of him. Sarah’s brother Rafe was someone you mostly saw in passing. Sometimes you found yourself interacting with him, offering him some of your fries to which he’d dryly decline, or the odd occasion where you were in his way, hurrying to move at the mean sneer on his face. Rafe always seemed to be in a bad mood when you were around, and because Sarah assured you he was just like that, you always tried your best to cheer him up.
“Hey, Rafe,” you called.
Sarah looked over her shoulder at the sound of your voice, huffing to herself. She rolled her eyes as she turned back around, and you blinked at him when he didn’t return your smile. You watched him sigh, ignoring as you he asked Sarah where their parents were.
“Out,” the younger girl quickly replied.
You watched Rafe throw her a look at that before his gaze landed on you again.
“Any reason why she’s here?” he asked, and your brows drew together.
Something about his tone didn’t make you feel good, but you brushed it aside when Sarah just shook her head, quietly telling you to ignore him.
“I do,” she said, standing to her feet. “I’m going to get something to wrap it.”
You smiled at her as she hurried upstairs, and when you looked over, you found Rafe’s gaze on you as he leaned against the kitchen counter. You noticed that he stared at you a lot, especially when Sarah wasn’t around, and you didn’t know why. You watched his blue eyes fall to your ankle where you held the ice, and he brought the beer in his hand up to his lips.
“What happened?” he mumbled around the neck. “Try to walk and chew gum at the same time?”
You blinked, frowning a bit just as he chuckled.
“No?” you replied, confused by the odd comment. “I was taking pictures of the sunset, and I needed to get on some rocks to get a good picture…”
You trailed off when he started to laugh, shaking his head at you.
“Of course, you were,” he slowly commented. “I don’t even know why I asked.”
You didn’t know what to say to that, and you chewed on your lip, glancing away as he continued to eye you.
“Are you going to Topper’s party, tonight? I’m going with Sarah,” you tried to change the subject, smiling at him.
Rafe stared at you in silence for a while, strangely and with a frown on his face. After some time, he scoffed, pushing himself away from the counter, looking at you from beneath his lashes.
“He’s kind of my best friend, Y/N,” he slowly said. “Why wouldn’t I?”
You shuddered at the sound of your name coming from his lips. He always had a way of saying it that made you feel…uneasy. It was like when you drank just enough to feel bad but not enough to ignore it. Your chuckle was light, not thinking of that for some reason, and you nodded.
“That makes sense.”
Rafe was nearing the stairs just as Sarah reappeared at the top of them, and he kept his gaze on you for as long as possible.
“You should probably stay home though,” he threw over his shoulder. “We wouldn’t want you to fall in a hole somewhere after you’ve had too much to drink.”
Your friend hissed his name as she passed him, a deep frown on her face, but Rafe only chuckled to himself. Again, the comment had your mind wandering in confusion. Topper’s mom kept their yard to perfection, and there wasn’t a patch of uneven grass, let alone any holes. Sarah heavily sighed as she neared you with some gauze, mumbling to herself.
“He’s such an ass,” she voiced. “Seriously, just ignore him.”
That was what she always told you, but it was kind of hard to do. Rafe had a way of stealing your attention sometimes whether you wanted to give it or not, and it wasn’t just because he was pretty. He was so different from Sarah, and you guessed he fascinated you in a way. Always so grumpy and unhappy, and it seemed like no matter how much you tried to cheer him up or at least get a smile out of him, it never worked.
…and you didn’t know why.
“Don’t sweat it so much,” Kelce chuckled later that night. “Rafe is Rafe.”
He smiled at you, flicking your chin, and making you join him. Two of his friends were with him, Topper glued to Sarah’s side, and Rafe nowhere to be found. You didn’t remember their names, although you were sure you’d met them before. Their faces did look familiar, after all, and you felt bad about not being able to place them.
They didn’t seem to care much though as they returned your smile.
“That’s a cute dress,” one of them said, reaching out and pulling on the end. “You always wear the cutest stuff though.”
“Isn’t it?” you added, spinning around and making the skirt fly up a bit. “Sarah picked it out!”
“Sarah has great taste,” the other told you, eyes looking over you and admiring the dress.
You imagined he liked the color just as much as you did, and you started telling him about how it was the last one, and Sarah had to almost fight some lady for it. You were taking a sip of your drink when you took a step back, bumping into someone, and you jerked when the cold liquid spilled onto you. You gasped in shock, more than grateful when Kelce grabbed a napkin and started dabbing at the fabric.
“I got it,” you told him, reaching for it instead, but he smiled at you, insisting.
However, another hand came between you and snatched the napkin away. You blinked in shock, looking up just as Rafe’s other hand grabbed your arm, starting to pull you away.
“Hey, Rafe,” Kelce nervously chuckled. “We were just… She had an accident so…”
He trailed off, and you looked between him and Rafe as the blond pulled you away. He gave Kelce a look that you couldn’t place, the other guy and his friends sort of shrinking in on themselves.
“Uh huh,” was all Rafe said, and you stumbled with him in confusion as he led you away.
“What are you doing? Is it Sarah?”
Rafe softly chuckled to himself at that, shaking his head.
“Is it Sarah,” he mumbled, sounding more like a statement. “No, it’s not Sarah.”
He roughly let you go, making you stumble, and you frowned as he threw the napkin at you.
“Here,” he spat, huffing to himself as he looked you over. “Clean yourself up.”
You slowly did as he said, carefully watching him as he watched you, jaw clenching and eyes hard. There was that sour feeling again. Here you were, at a party and surrounded by so many people, but it strangely felt like you and Rafe were the only ones in the room. There was an uneasy feeling in your chest, and you bit your lip.
“Are you…are you mad at me?” you nervously asked.
It was a silly thing to ask because why would Rafe be mad at you? However, his rough treatment wasn’t like him. In fact, you couldn’t ever remember a time where Rafe had so much as touched you. The look he gave you was enough to curdle milk, and when he sighed, your shoulders drooped in relief.
“Nah,” he drawled, lips pressed together as his eyes met yours. “Who could be mad at you? That’d be like getting mad at a child.”
You blinked, but before you could ask him what he meant, he gruffly told you to find Sarah and stay out of trouble. You frowned a bit, still wiping at your dress as you slowly turned and did as he said. When you looked over your shoulder, Rafe was still watching you, and you guessed he wanted to make sure you found Sarah okay.
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“…and…just what are you doing?”
You straightened a bit, pushing yourself to your knees as you looked up to find Rafe looking down at you. His face was pinched as he studied you, and you grinned at him, hands resting on your thighs.
“Hey, Rafe!” you suddenly remembered that he’d asked you something. “My phone fell under the couch.”
You gestured to the piece of furniture, and you were just about to bend over again when Rafe reached down to grab your arm, pulling you to your feet. You eyed him as he did the same to you before taking your place. You crossed your arms over your chest, watching him, and your confusion at his strange attitude disappeared when he reemerged with your phone. A delighted gasp left you as you reached for it, pausing when Rafe held it out of reach.
“You know, I think you’d lose your head if it wasn’t attached to your body.”
That was something your mom said often too. His eyes looked between yours, and you swallowed when he moved closer. His chest brushed against yours, and your heart raced.
“Thanks for getting it for me,” you finally said, reaching for it again to no avail.
Confusion filled you.
“If I give it to you, what will you give me?” he murmured, and you blinked, brows raising a bit.
“Well…what do you want?”
Rafe only rolled his eyes at that, chuckling before dropping your phone in your hand. You held it to you just as he moved, and you were startled by the feel of him reaching down and pulling on the end of your skirt, pulling it down some. You hadn’t even noticed that it had ridden up, and you looked at him with a smile, thanking him.
“Where’s Sarah?” he suddenly wondered, plopping down on the same couch you’d just been searching under.
“She said she was on her way, but I think she’s still with Topper.”
You watched Rafe’s blue gaze linger on your legs, and you looked down, fearful that you’d scratched yourself or something in your search for your phone. When you didn’t find anything, your eyes met Rafe’s when you looked up, and you watched the corner of his mouth curve upwards.
“You’re too nice, you know that?”
“Me?” you laughed. “I don’t think so. No nicer than anyone else.”
Rafe snorted at that, and you moved to sit down next to him as you waited for Sarah.
“If it wasn’t for Sarah, so many people on this island would eat you alive, you know.”
You didn’t understand what he meant by that, frowning, and that just seemed to amuse Rafe more. He didn’t elaborate either, opting to run his eyes over you instead, and when they landed on your skirt, he reached over to pull it down where it had ridden up some again. You softly thanked him, and he pointed at you at that, tongue pressed to the inside of his cheek.
“That,” he said, shaking his head. “That is exactly what I’m talking about.”
You curiously eyed him as he stood just as you heard a vehicle in the yard.
“You shouldn’t be thanking me for something like that,” he told you with an unreadable smile. “I might take it the wrong way.”
You watched Rafe’s back as he made his way towards the stairs, only looking away when Sarah rushed in, repeatedly apologizing.
Rafe always said things like that to you, things you didn’t quite understand. To be fair, there were a lot of things you didn’t understand, but especially the things Rafe seemed to say. Why wouldn’t you thank him for making sure your skirt was pulled down? Why would he take that the wrong way? In what way?
When you’d brought it up to Sarah one day, she’d merely scoffed and called him a sick pervert before apologizing again for leaving you alone with him.
“He’s so…sleazy, sometimes, you know?”
You didn’t know, actually. Outside of his mood swings, Rafe was at least respectful to you. At least, you felt like he was, but Sarah talked about her brother like he was the scum of the earth or something. You watched her as she sprawled over her bed, eyes trained on the ceiling.
“One minute, I swear he can’t stand you and then the next it’s like he’s too into what you’re up to.”
You frowned at that, this being news to you, and Sarah seemed to realize what she said. She sighed, pushing herself onto her stomach, and your eyes met hers.
“Rafe doesn’t like me…?”
You weren’t surprised by how much it hurt to hear. Rafe was your best friend’s brother, after all, and while you two weren’t friends, you’d never been anything but nice to him. You always tried to offer him things and ask how he was and smile at him whenever you saw him.
“It’s not that he doesn’t like you,” she confessed, throwing you a sympathetic glance. “He just doesn’t think the best of you.”
You deflated some, frowning as you tried to remember if he’d ever said anything to you that you missed.
“It’s why I hate when he comes around when you’re around. He’s always being an asshole, but don’t take it too personal, okay? He’s an asshole to almost everyone.”
You’d heard that before, but still. You’d never done anything to Rafe, and hearing this made you a little sad because Sarah didn’t even say why he didn’t like you. You sat there, feeling stumped and second guessing everything. Rafe said funny things sometimes at how much pink you wore, or he’d shake his head when some jokes had to be explained to you, and he certainly seemed to get annoyed when he came downstairs to find you bending over in the fridge.
Sarah had assured you though that Rafe was just like that.
When you found yourself at another party, you did your best to stay out of his way. You didn’t want to upset him anymore than you already had, even though you didn’t know how you’d done it. You were with one of Topper’s friends that you’d seen in passing, giggling and struggling to stand with every second that passed. As you finished the last of your drink, he quickly poured you some more, and you pressed your hand to your mouth to keep from burping.
“Sarah’s going to have to carry me home,” you told him, your words coming out more jumbled together than you’d intended.
He laughed at you, an arm snaking around your waist to help you stand. You eyed his dark hair, smiling at how it contrasted with his light eyes.
“I can take you home whenever you’re ready,” he offered, and you felt yourself perk up.
“Really? Oh my God, thank you,” you sighed out. “I always feel so bad when Sarah has to look out for me.”
His pink lips pulled into a smile, and you returned it. It felt like his hand on your waist was the only thing keeping you up, and you leaned into him, feeling beyond grateful.
“You should probably finish your drink before we go though,” he suggested, and you nodded.
He was so nice to get you another, and you didn’t want it to go to waste. He helped you put one foot in front of the other as he led you across the beach and in between the bodies. You stumbled a few times, and you thanked him each time he kept you from falling flat on your face. You asked him how he knew Topper, and when he told you they went to school together, you smacked your forehead.
Almost everyone here went to what some people dubbed as Kook Academy.
“Duh,” you giggled, shaking your head.
You were just about to ask him which car was his when you were ripped away from him. Your eyes widened in shock, and you dropped what was left of your drink as you tripped over your feet. It took you a moment to realize what was going on, and when you glanced up, you smiled at the sight of Rafe. You’d been trying to avoid him for his sake, but you were always happy to see the blond.
“Hi, Rafe!”
He wasn’t looking at you, one hand on your arm and the other pushing against the chest of your new friend. You frowned in confusion as you took in the scene, realizing they didn’t look so friendly, and you noted this was the first time you’d seen Rafe really mad before.
“What the hell, bro?”
You watched Rafe shove him away, the other guy almost falling back.
“Are you crazy? You don’t think I know what you’re trying to do?”
You looked between them, and Rafe didn’t wait around for Topper’s friend to straighten himself up. You had no choice but to follow as he dragged you away, and his fast pace made your head spin even more. You asked him to slow down, but he ignored you, and you could feel your stomach turning. When he made it to the familiar black truck, he practically pushed you inside when he opened the passenger door, and with his hands on the vehicle, he had you trapped.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” he asked, his voice harsher than usual, and your brows knitted together. “Are you that stupid?”
You blinked at him, lips parting, and at that, Rafe slammed the door shut with a shake of his head. You stared at it for a few seconds, only sitting back and slowly putting on your seatbelt as he slid into the driver’s seat. The ride to your house was quiet, and you were reminded of what Sarah had told you. Why didn’t Rafe like you? What had you done now?
He was just as quiet when he made it to your house, and you noticed that your parents weren’t home. You struggled to get your door open, but it didn’t matter much when Rafe was suddenly there, yanking it open…and yanking you out too.
“Ow!”
He didn’t care to be careful, forcing you towards your door, and he snatched your purse before you could. You wrapped your arms around yourself, shuddering at the cool ocean breeze as you stood in your dress, the flowy skirt of it kissing your thighs. When Rafe finally got the door open, he all but shoved you inside, and this time, you did fall.
You whimpered in pain, sitting up to take off your shoes, rubbing your foot just as he slammed your door closed.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” he repeated, slower this time as he brought his hands up. “Huh?”
You were drunk and confused, blinking and desperately trying to understand why Rafe was so mad. You’d done your best to avoid him all night—these past few weeks, actually. You didn’t like making anyone mad, especially Rafe considering his relation to Sarah.
“You realize he was going to hurt you, right…?”
You laughed at that, throwing Rafe a frown.
“What? Topper’s friend? No, he-.”
“He what? He plowed you with alcohol—maybe a few drugs—and was just so eager to take you home?”
You hesitated, a frown forming.
“I mean…we were drinking just like everyone else was, and I feel bad when Sarah has to take me home,” you said, much quieter now.
Rafe let out a laugh at that, and you finally decided to try and push yourself to your feet. You stumbled when Rafe neared you, so close, and your eyes widened. Rafe was so close you could feel his body heat, and he gestured to you with both hands as he leaned in.
“He was going to rape you. Do you get that?”
You flinched, chest tightening as you shook your head.
“No, he wouldn’t do that…”
“…and how do you know? You just met him, tonight,” Rafe spat. “You don’t know shit about him!”
You blinked, and you could feel your eyes burning because Rafe was so mad, and you didn’t understand why. Topper’s friend had been nice to you all night, looking after you and getting you drinks and keeping you company. You had the hardest time believing Rafe’s words, and you shook your head.
“He was being nice,” you argued, but Rafe’s anger and harsh words had you doubting that, now.
“…because he wanted to fuck you, you-.”
He cut himself off, heavily exhaling, and he glanced away. You watched him as his eyes fell closed, a bitter chuckle escaping as he shook his head.
“Do you have any idea how crazy you drive me?”
You almost didn’t hear him, and when he turned his cold gaze back to you, you swallowed.
“Are you really that stupid?” he quietly wondered, tapping his temples. “Huh?”
You pressed your lips together, the sound of your heartbeat loud in your ears.
“I’m stretching myself thin here just to make sure all those guys you think are your friends don’t have you lying down in their backseat somewhere…”
“Rafe.”
“…but like the dumb broad that you are, you think they’re being nice and friendly and that they actually care about you outside of what’s under your tiny little dress!”
You looked away.
“Every day I find myself wondering how the fuck did you even graduate? How did you even make it this far on your own?”
You struggled to swallow, your gaze finding the floor.
His words had you shifting on your feet, heart sinking at the familiarity of them. You were never the smartest, you knew that. It wasn’t like you hadn’t tried in school, tried to understand things that came so naturally to other people. You remembered your tutors getting so fed up and frustrated, leaning against the hall and listening as they told your mom they didn’t see how you’d ever pass. You remembered enlisting classmates for help before they too gave up and just took pity on you by doing your work for you.
“Hey, it’s okay,” they would tell you with soft smiles. “You really tried, and that’s what really matters.”
You looked up when Rafe huffed again, tears in your eyes. You had no idea that Rafe thought those things too, and you reached up to wipe your eyes.
“I mean, you’re always parading around in this crap that barely covers your ass,” he sneered, gesturing to your dress. “Always smiling and giggling at everyone.”
You sniffed.
“None of those guys are ever laughing with you, they’re laughing at you.”
“Why are you saying this to me?” you whispered.
“…because someone needs to,” he threw back. “…because you’re too fucking dumb to look out for yourself.”
Rafe neared you, reaching out and clutching your dress, yanking you closer.
“Do you know what that guy would’ve done? Hmm?”
You shuddered when his other hand came up to clasp the back of your neck.
“He would’ve gotten you in his backseat, probably wouldn’t have even waited to get you home…”
“Stop,” you pleaded.
“He wouldn’t have listened to a single word you said, too busy trying to get your legs open and his pants off.”
His hold tightened, and you winced, a few tears skipping down your face as he walked forward. He forced you to stumble back.
“He would’ve fucked you even more stupid and-.”
He cut himself off as you hit his chest, lips trembling and desperately trying to keep yourself from crying. You couldn’t stop, and Rafe huffed, rubbing his hands over his head as he let you go. Rafe’s chest was heaving, and when his eyes met yours again, you couldn’t hold his gaze for long.
“You’re so pitiful, you know that?” he murmured, coming near you again. “Every time you open that mouth to say something stupid, I just want to shove my cock in it.”
Your eyes widened at his words, stumbling back when he gripped your roots, scalp stinging.
“…but that’s all you’ll be good for, huh,” he mused, his other hand circling your chin. “To be split open and filled up.”
You reached up, grabbing his wrist, but Rafe didn’t care, leaning in and nipping at your cheek.
“…and if it’s going to be someone, it might as well be me, right?” he breathed, brushing his lips over your trembling ones. “Those other assholes on this island don’t look out for you like I do.”
Rafe wasn’t giving you time to think, and before you could stop him, his mouth covered yours. Rafe deeply inhaled, tongue tasting the inside of your mouth, hand roaming over you, completely ignoring your own as you tried to stop him. He roughly pulled at your dress, and you heard the fabric rip, a noise of protest leaving you.
You thought that Rafe didn’t like you.
It was what Sarah said, and Rafe himself had called you dumb and stupid and every other thing you’d tried to pretend you weren’t. You didn’t always pick up on things, but would Topper’s friend really have hurt you? Rafe was smarter than you, so he would know, right? He’d seemed so sure of it, but as his hands squeezed your frame, you recalled his words.
Wasn’t Rafe doing the same thing?
You gasped when his teeth sank into your neck, and all your breath left you when your back met the floor. You mumbled his name, but Rafe didn’t seem to hear you, yanking your panties down your legs, his own pants partially undone. When his fingers found a home between your legs, you whimpered, jerking at the feel of them sinking into you. He groaned at the feel, and your nails pressed into his arm.
You felt like your brain was short-circuiting, eyes rolling as he thrust them into you, massaging your walls. Rafe hovered over you, his nose brushing yours, and your hands reached out to scrape at the carpet. Your chest arched when Rafe curved them, and he kissed you again, a deep moan leaving him as you clenched around him.
“Rafe, stop-.”
Your words were abruptly cut off when he pressed on your stomach, holding you down, and you trembled, body buzzing. When he pulled them out of you, you felt disappointment, no time to linger on it as the head of him pressed to you. He pushed in slowly, inch by inch, and your stomach arched against his firm hand. Your mouth fell open at the stretch, toes curling, and Rafe made a shushing sound.
“You can take it,” he murmured. “Open your legs.”
He rested in between them on his knees, and his free hand was on your thigh, parting them further. A high pitched sigh left you as he filled you to the hilt, fitting snuggly and holding himself inside of you. The turn the night had taken made your head spin, along with the alcohol, and you threw your head back when Rafe’s hand traveled from your stomach, thumb pressing against you.
“You’re so fucking wet,” you heard him groan. “Dripping around me.”
He started to move, pulling out before swiftly pushing his cock back into you, making you squeeze your eyes shut.
“This is all you needed, huh? Someone to fuck your dumb little brains out.”
Your lashes fluttered, and Rafe was blurry through your tears, but as you blinked, he cleared up. He leaned in to press kisses to your face, hips snapping against yours, the sound of skin slapping against skin loud in the living room. You couldn’t focus on much besides Rafe’s cock in you, hands tight on you and holding you in place so he could fuck you like he wanted.
“You know how many times I wanted to bend you over? Wanted to stuff you full of my cock just so you’d shut up?”
You whimpered, hands grasping at his back and arms as he leaned over. His forehead was pressed to yours, one of your knees completely pushed back as he drove himself into you. He was hitting something in you that had your breath hitching with every thrust, and the earlier events of the night were in the very back of your mind.
When he sat up, pushing both of your knees towards your chest, you cried out. You could see his eyes focused on where he disappeared into you, sliding into you and watching the way you dripped around him. You could feel yourself squeezing him, greedily trying to suck him back in, and Rafe chuckled.
“Nothing to say? Too busy taking my cock?”
When you didn’t say anything, he laughed again.
“Hmm?”
You could only bite your lip, chest heaving, and when you looked up, Rafe’s gaze was on your breasts.
“Touch yourself,” he told you, satisfied when you did. “Make them hard for me.”
You were a moaning mess, a fire in your core as Rafe rutted into you. You could hear it, hear the wet sound of you squeezing him and every dip of Rafe’s cock. You softly moaned his name, and Rafe asked you to do it again. Feeling drunk in more ways than one, you did, gasping when he spread your legs again. His arms hooked under your knees, his chest brushing yours, now, and Rafe pressed his face into the crook of your neck.
“Any of those assholes even look at you for more than two seconds, and I’m showing them who you belong to,” he promised.
You could feel your stomach tightening, walls fluttering around him, and you could only lay down and take Rafe’s unrelenting cock.
“This pussy is mine, now,” he breathed. “No more leaving the house like you do without me.”
“Rafe,” you gasped, breath hitching. “I’m going to…”
You trailed off, losing your breath, and Rafe kissed the corner of your mouth.
“You’re gonna come? Yeah?”
You nodded, lips parted.
“So, I should probably keep going, huh?”
“Uh huh.”
“What if I just stopped?”
Your heart skipped a beat.
“No,” you desperately argued. “Please-.”
“You wanna come?”
“Yes…please,” you moaned.
You could feel his eyes on your face as he lifted his head.
“Look at you,” he whispered. “So hungry for my cock. Can’t even keep your eyes open.”
You didn’t have the mind to argue with him, squeezing him and loving the way he stretched you out.
“This is right where you belong. Spread open and desperate for me,” he hummed, pressing open mouthed kisses to your neck. “My dumb baby girl, only good for milking me dry.”
He continued when all you could do was whimper.
“Isn’t that right?”
 At your silence, Rafe stopped, only the tip of him remaining. You tried to lift your hips, fucking yourself onto him, but from this position, with his arms keeping your knees bent back, you couldn’t. You whined, tears kissing your eyes as your chest heaved against his. You frantically nodded, another whiny moan escaping.
“Yes,” you breathlessly gave in. “Yes, yes.”
Rafe snapped his hips against yours again, smoothly thrusting into you, and you came around him with a cry. You couldn’t keep quiet, gasping and moaning as Rafe fucked you through your high. He held you in place, body trembling underneath him, and Rafe groaned when he started coming too, spilling into you. A light sheen of sweat coated both your frames, and you shuddered when he pulled out of you.
You felt completely worn out as he crawled over you, and his hand circled your chin, lifting it. The head of him pushed past your lips, and he groaned when he softly told you to clean him up. His eyes met yours as you looked up at him, lips wrapped around him as he reached down to brush the dampness from your cheek.
“Do a good job, and I might clean you up too.”
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cherryfyre · 2 months ago
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5 Times Sarah Cameron Used You to Change Rafe's Mind
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The Charity Auction
Rafe lounged on the couch, lazily flipping through the flat screen's channels. He wasn't in the mood for Sarah's antics, but the sound of her heels clicking on the hardwood floors made him glance up.
"Don't forget, the charity auction is tomorrow," Sarah said, casually tying her hair back as she rifled through a drawer.
"Not going"
"You're unbelievable," Sarah shot back, slamming the drawer shut. "Dad donated half the prizes, and people are expecting us. Do you really want to deal with him if we don't show?"
Rafe scoffed "Since when do you care about what Dad thinks?"
"I don't. But the auction's important to people. Like... y'know who."
Rafe didn't need her to clarify. He could picture you now—probably making centrepieces out of seashells or whatever it was kooks like you cared about. He rolled his eyes, "Still not going."
Sarah smirked. "Right. Because you hate being in a room where people are actually impressed by you for once." She snapped, turning on her heel and starts to leave.
He threw the remote onto the couch with a groan "Fine. but if it's boring then I'm out."
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The next evening. Rafe walked into the auction wearing a blazer that screamed "I don't care," through his hair that was carefully tousled. His eyes hovered over the luxurious room, until they had found you.
You were at the front of the room, adjusting a floral arrangement on a table, your dress soft and flowing, catching the light with every move. When you turend and saw him, your focused face turned into a surprised smile.
"Rafe? I didn't think I would see you here."
"Yeah, well...." He shrugged, slipping hsi hands into his pockets, "Sarah dragged me."
Your smiled softened, your voice quieter now. "Well, I'm glad you came. It's nice having someone I know here."
Rafe felt his chest tighten unexpectedly, the kind of feeling he'd never admit. "You seem busy." He said, motioning to the bustling room.
"I am, but..." You stepped closer, the warmth of your perfume wrapping around him "It's good busy. It's for a good cause."
He nodded, unable to look away from your glowing expression. "Yeah, looks good."
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2. The Bonfire
“Don’t be lame, Rafe,” Sarah called from the doorway, jingling her car keys.
“Not going.” He didn’t even look up from his phone.
“Right,” Sarah said, leaning against the doorframe. “Because sitting alone here and staring at your phone all night is such a better time.”
“It is when I don’t have to deal with John B and his idiot friends.”
Sarah shrugged. “Suit yourself. I’m just saying it’s not a bad crowd. You know, people who don’t get on your nerves.” She paused, giving him a pointed look. “Like her.”
Rafe’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t respond.
“She’s been talking about it all week. She even made s’mores kits,” Sarah added with a sly grin. “But whatever. Have fun being miserable.”
He sighed, setting his phone down with exaggerated annoyance. “I’m only going because I’m bored. Don’t expect me to stay long.”
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The fire crackled against the dark sky, and Rafe stayed on the outskirts, leaning against a tree with his arms crossed. He scanned the crowd until his eyes landed on you. You were crouched by the fire, your laughter mingling with the sparks as you tried to keep a marshmallow from catching fire.
When you caught him watching, you smiled and waved. “Come sit!”
“I’m good here,” he called back, though his feet were already moving toward you.
“Afraid of s’mores?” you teased, holding out a perfectly roasted marshmallow.
He smirked, taking it from you. “You’re lucky this one’s decent.
“Lucky?” you laughed. “I’m an expert.”
He shook his head but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at his lips. The firelight danced in your eyes, and for the first time that night, he didn’t mind being there.
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3. The Surf Competition
Rafe leaned back in his chair, his feet propped on the porch railing as Sarah walked past with a beach bag slung over her shoulder.
“You’re not going to the surf competition?” she asked, not breaking stride.
“Since when do I go to those things?” he shot back, his sunglasses hiding his glare.
“Since never,” Sarah replied. “But it’s kind of a big deal. The whole island’s going. It’s not like you’ve got anything better to do.”
“Pass.”
Sarah stopped, looking over her shoulder. “You know, she’s competing.”
Rafe’s hand paused mid-reach for his drink. “And?”
“And nothing,” Sarah said, turning away. “But she’s been practicing for weeks, and she’s actually good. But hey, stay here. I’m sure your chair needs you.”
Rafe grumbled under his breath, grabbing his keys. “Whatever.”
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The beach was packed, the crowd buzzing with excitement. Rafe kept to the back, his arms crossed as he scanned the waves. When he spotted you paddling out, your determination written in every stroke, he couldn’t look away.
You caught a wave, carving effortlessly down its face, your smile radiant as you glided toward the shore. The crowd erupted in cheers, but Rafe barely noticed. He was too busy watching you, the way you seemed to light up in the sunlight.
Afterward, you spotted him leaning against a railing. “Rafe! You came?”
He shrugged, his expression neutral. “Didn’t have anything else going on.”
Your smile widened. “Well, thanks. It means a lot.”
He didn’t say anything, but the warmth in your voice stayed with him long after the competition ended.
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4. The Family Dinner
“You’re coming to dinner,” Sarah said as she walked into the living room.
Rafe didn’t even glance up. “No, I’m not.”
“It’s just dinner, Rafe. Dad’s grilling, and—”
“And what? It’s going to be a train wreck like usual?”
Sarah sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Fine. Stay here. I just thought you’d want to keep her company while the rest of us deal with Dad’s speeches.”
Rafe looked up, his brow furrowing. “She’s going?”
“She’s coming with her parents. You know how Dad is—he invited everyone with a trust fund.”
Rafe muttered something under his breath before standing. “Guess I’ll go. Someone has to keep you in check.”
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At the dinner, Rafe kept his distance at first, leaning against a tree with a drink in hand. But when he saw you standing by yourself near the fire pit, your dress catching the glow of the flames, he found himself walking over.
“Didn’t think this was your kind of thing,” he said, his voice casual.
You turned, your face lighting up. “Rafe! I didn’t see you earlier.”
“Yeah, well… figured I’d make an appearance.”
You smiled softly, and for the rest of the night, Rafe found himself by your side, your laughter making the night more bearable than he’d ever admit.
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5. The Lake Day
“Let’s go,” Sarah said, throwing a towel at Rafe’s head.
He caught it with a scowl. “Go where?”
“The lake. Everyone’s going.”
“Pass.”
“Typical.” Sarah rolled her eyes. “She’s coming too, but I guess that’s not enough of a reason for you to leave your cave.”
Rafe frowned, trying to mask his interest. “She’s going?”
Sarah didn’t answer, just smirked as she walked out the door.
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By the lake, Rafe spotted you sitting on the dock, your feet dangling in the water. The sunlight danced across the waves, catching in your hair and making you look almost otherworldly.
He walked over, sitting down next to you without a word.
“Hey,” you said, smiling at him. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”
“Sarah dragged me,” he lied, glancing out at the water.
You bumped his shoulder lightly. “Well, I’m glad you came.”
Rafe felt the tension in his chest ease, the warmth of your presence making the lake day more tolerable than he’d thought possible.
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wafflesandd1ck · 2 months ago
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GO3 better have crippling longing.
I mean, I wanna see Crowley and Azeraphile both crack under their respective weight of Azeraphiles' choice to go to heaven.
I wanna see almost touches, almost hugs, I wanna see Azeraphiles face drop every time Crowley moves out of his reach.
I wanna see Crowley make ENDLESS petty jabs about how Azeraphile abandoned him and doesn't care about him for who he truly is. (IE: not an angel/not perfect) we all know how he talks to his plants is the internal dialog he talks to himself in, every waking minute of every day.
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Give me that PROJECTION!!
Give me Crowley being disgustingly formal with Azeraphile. Always calling him "your Grace," "Supreme Arch angel," with a little smart-ass bow.
I want Azeraphile to be getting more and more cunty and bitchy in his..well everything. Basically, make him hold THIS energy for the entire first half of the film.
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Make our favorite marshmallow man, match that goth boy energy to a 'T'!!
I picture the gang in the bookshop with Muriel, Maggy, and Nina. They are trying to work out a plan. Crowley hunched over Azeraphiles desk, and as they talked, the double meanings were so sharp that it's making the room tense AF. (Think kids watching their parents fight.)
Nina gets uncomfortable and is like, "I'm gonna make coco. Muriel and maggy! Come help me!"
I want a slow, tense moment of Crowley just
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And then BOOM!
"Why didn't you go with me to heaven!?"
"Why didn't didn't you go with me to Alpha centauri!?"
"Why didn't you tell me when you hired the witch hunters to find the anti christ!?"
"Why didn't you tell me you already knew where the anti christ was!?"
They're breathing hard and circling each other. Getting it all out in the open: why? Why? Why!? Every miscommunication. Every missed signal. Voices rising louder and louder
Until FINALLY
"..Why did you kiss me!?"
Silence.
Crowley is visibly uncomfortable. Azeraphile has him cornered, physically and emotionally.
Crowley huffs a hard, angry breath and goes to put his sunglasses on. Azeraphile, in a moment of pure upset, rips them out of his hands and breaks them. I picture him just snapping them in half and grabbing Crowley by the lapels and slamming him into the nearest bookshelf. A callback to this moment.
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"You will answer me this one question." Azeraphile huffs through his teeth. "If it is the last thing you ever say to me, then so be it."
Pause again on Crowleys face. Pained, angry as hell (ha ha pun) flustered, and definitely wanting to lean in, eyes flickering to Azeraphiles lips.
they just hold there in that pause.
Azeraphiles fingers find their way up slowly. Finger tips oh so gently dancing on Crowleys jawline. Eyes scanning one another.
They've been apart for so long. Just one little touch. That's enough. It's enough. Please, someone, let it be enough.
"I think you know exactly why, Angel."
I would also love it if this was the first "angel" drop since they were reunited.
If they don't make Azeraphile absolutely ravenous and completely starved for Crowley and Crowley knows it but keeps riding that line between "admit you love me" and "fuck you I'm so angry at you".
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dreamauri · 20 days ago
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♪ — 𝗟𝗢𝗩𝗘𝗥𝗦 𝗥𝗢𝗖𝗞 - part twelve max verstappen x fem! driver! reader ( fluff ) series summary . . . when the lives of an f1 and WEC prodigies collide, they find out they find out that they’re not that different and carve out a place for themselves in each other's hearts. the commentators from Sky Sports call this Lovers Rock.
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( fic master list | general master list ) ( previous | next )
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fic summary . . . following the chaotic aftermath of the crash, tensions rise as the world critiques ferrari’s celebration amidst Yn’s hospitalization. social media erupts with outrage, questioning Ferrari’s priorities and empathy. the conflict boils down to a pivotal decision: ferrari or no ferrari.
★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
The online world was ablaze. Ferrari’s celebratory posts about their victory at Le Mans were met with sharp backlash. Pictures of champagne spraying and team-wide smiles clashed brutally against the grim footage of your crash, circulating side by side.
“How can they celebrate while Yn’s in the hospital?”
“Heartless. They’re treating her like a pawn.”
“Ferrari needs to do better. This isn’t just about winning.”
The comments stung, but not as much as the phone call with your team principal. Max stood outside the hospital room, arms crossed, his expression darkening as he overheard your conversation.
“But I—” your voice, small but tinged with frustration, filtered through the cracked door.
“Yn, it’s not personal. Be happy for the team,” your team principal said dismissively. “You’re fine now, aren’t you? Focus on recovery.”
Max didn’t need to hear more. He clenched his fists, walking away from the door to avoid the urge to yell. He hated how they were treating you, brushing aside your near-miss as if it was just another footnote in a race.
★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
The Monaco apartment was dim and quiet, a sanctuary from the noise and chaos of the past few days. Max helped you through the door, his hand steady on your back as you shuffled inside. The familiar scent of home—clean linen, faint lavender, and a hint of Max’s cologne—wrapped around you, offering a semblance of comfort.
“Here we go,” Max murmured softly, guiding you toward the couch. The sunglasses and noise-canceling headphones you’d relied on for days felt heavy, unnecessary in the soothing stillness of the room. He stopped you gently before you could sit down, crouching to untie your shoes.
“You don’t have to—” you began, but he shook his head, his fingers deftly working the laces.
“Let me,” he said simply, slipping them off and setting them neatly by the door.
You lowered yourself onto the couch, the cushions cool against your back. Marshmallow settled immediately at your feet, his head resting on your ankle, while Sauce wagged his tail impatiently, too small to jump up.
“Hold on, buddy,” Max said with a chuckle, scooping up the tiny dachshund and placing him beside you. Sauce gave an enthusiastic bark before curling up in the crook of your leg.
Before you could lean back, two familiar meows drew your attention. Sassy, the sleek tabby, and Jimmy, the fluffball of mischief, sauntered into the room with their usual air of superiority. Sassy jumped gracefully onto your lap, her purring vibrating against your chest as she made herself comfortable. Jimmy followed, nuzzling your shoulder before flopping against your side with a satisfied sigh.
Max smiled at the sight, his hands moving to the sides of your head. “Let’s get these off,” he said softly, removing your sunglasses and headphones. His blue eyes searched yours for any sign of discomfort, and when you didn’t protest, he leaned down to kiss your temple.
Then your cheek.
Your nose.
Your chin.
Each press of his lips was gentle, deliberate, as if he could will away the fatigue etched into your features. You let out a quiet hum of contentment, leaning into his touch.
“How does that feel?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
“Better,” you murmured, your fingers brushing over Sassy’s fur absentmindedly.
Max settled beside you, his arm draping over the back of the couch. You shifted, lying down with your head on his lap. The exhaustion that had weighed on you for days felt a little lighter, the emptiness a little less vast.
His hand found yours, his fingers threading through yours loosely. You traced the lines of his palm with your thumb, the quiet intimacy grounding you.
“Do you want to talk?” he asked after a while, his other hand stroking your hair gently.
You shook your head. “Not now,” you said softly. “Just . . . stay.”
“I’m not going anywhere,”
★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
The press conference room buzzed with the usual pre-race energy, a cacophony of camera shutters and murmurs from journalists. Max sat in the center, arms crossed loosely as he leaned back in his chair. To his left, Lando was fidgeting with his microphone, clearly in a playful mood, while Fernando sat to Max’s right, his expression calm and inscrutable. Charles rounded out the group, answering a question about the car’s development with his usual diplomatic charm.
Max’s mind drifted. These sessions were tedious—sitting under bright lights, idly chatting with the others, waiting for a question to come his way. It was part of the job, but today, he found it harder to stay present.
“Max, Fernando, how’s Yn doing after the crash?” a journalist finally asked, their tone both curious and concerned.
Max straightened slightly, glancing at Fernando before answering. “She’s alright,” he said, his voice steady but soft. “I’ve just been doing dog-walking duties while she rests—not that I’m complaining.”
The room chuckled lightly, and Max allowed a faint smile to tug at his lips.
Fernando cleared his throat, leaning toward his mic with a serious expression. “Yn is a fighter. I’ve known her for years, and if there’s one thing she doesn’t do, it’s give up. She’ll be back stronger, no doubt about it.” His words carried a weight that made the room quiet for a moment.
Lando, however, couldn’t resist. He leaned forward, his mischievous grin already in place. “Yeah, she’s recovering. But I’ve got to say, she did forget the arrangement of the Spanish alphabet last time I saw her.” His attempt to keep a straight face failed miserably, his shoulders shaking as he stifled a laugh.
Fernando turned to Lando, shaking his head and clicking his tongue in disapproval. “You’re impossible,” he muttered, though there was a glint of amusement in his eyes.
“Come on, it was funny,” Lando said, throwing his hands up defensively, earning a few more chuckles from the room.
Max couldn’t help but smirk, shaking his head at the dynamic between the two. “That’s why Yn doesn’t trust you with her dogs,” he quipped, drawing more laughter.
Charles chimed in with a grin. “Probably for the best. Lando can’t even keep his phone intact, let alone Sauce.”
The press conference finally wrapped up, the drivers filtering out into the paddock with varying levels of enthusiasm. Max pulled out his phone, checking for messages as Charles walked beside him, a light laugh escaping his lips. Lando trailed behind, still chuckling to himself about his earlier comment.
Max’s phone buzzed in his hand, your name flashing across the screen. He immediately answered, his voice softening as he spoke. “Hey, schatje.”
“Max,” you said, your tone sharp but amused. “Put Lando on the phone. Now.”
Max’s eyebrows shot up as he glanced over his shoulder at Lando. “Uh, Lando? It’s for you.”
Lando stopped mid-stride, his expression puzzled as Max handed him the phone. “Hello?”
The second Lando spoke, you launched into your tirade. “Lando Norris, what were you thinking, telling the whole world I forgot the Spanish alphabet? Do you ever think before you open your mouth?”
Lando winced, holding the phone slightly away from his ear as he tried to defend himself. “It was just a joke, Yn! Come on—”
You didn’t let him finish. “Do you know how many people speak Spanish, Lando? Half of them are already tweeting that I’ve lost my mind. Qué desastre. Esto es ridículo. ¿Por qué eres así?”
Hearing the switch to Spanish, Charles burst into laughter, clutching his side as he leaned against Max for support. “Oh no, now she’s really mad,” Charles managed between laughs.
Max smirked, crossing his arms as he watched Lando squirm. “You brought this on yourself,” he teased, his tone full of amusement.
Just then, Carlos walked out of the media pen, pausing when he caught the unmistakable sound of your voice over the phone. “Is that Yn?” he asked, his brow furrowing as he looked between the laughing Charles and Max, who was thoroughly enjoying the scene.
“She’s scolding Lando,” Charles explained, his voice still shaking with laughter.
Carlos raised an eyebrow, his lips twitching into a smirk. “What did you do to make her so angry, Lando?”
Lando held up a hand, mouthing, Help me, as you continued your spirited rant.
“She found out about his comment in the press conference,” Charles said, barely able to get the words out as he doubled over in laughter.
Fernando strolled past, catching sight of the scene. He waved at Max before addressing the phone. “Yn, ¿cómo estás? How are you feeling?”
Hearing Fernando’s voice, your tone softened slightly. “Estoy bien, Nando. Gracias por preguntar,” you replied, though you didn’t completely drop the sternness as you turned back to Lando. “But I’m still dealing with this British . . .  Thingy!”
"Thingy?!" Lando exclaimed in offence, putting a hand on his chest. "British thingy?! How dare you! I'm your best friend!"
Max finally took pity on Lando, reaching out to retrieve the phone. “Alright, Yn. I think he’s learned his lesson,” he said, his voice tinged with humour.
You sighed audibly on the other end. “Fine. But tell him if he does it again, I’m sending Marshmallow after him.”
Max chuckled, his blue eyes sparkling as he looked over Lando's shoulder at his phone screen. You'd just opened your FaceTime camera to flip Lando off.
“Thanks for that,” Lando said dryly, handing the phone back to Max as Charles and Carlos laughed openly at his expense.
“She’s scary when she’s mad,” Lando muttered.
Max just shrugged, his grin widening. “I think it’s kind of hot.”
“You’re gross,” Carlos quickly switched up, giving Max a disgusted look.
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The Austrian GP paddock hummed with energy, the bright afternoon sun reflecting off the sea of team colours and camera flashes. Walking beside Max in your new Red Bull uniform, you were still adjusting to the surreal switch. Your sunglasses, though mostly to protect your still-sensitive eyes, doubled as a shield against the overwhelming buzz around you.
You barely had time to adjust to the atmosphere before a familiar voice pierced through the noise.
“Yn!”
You turned just in time to see your little brother sprinting toward you, his little frame colliding with your legs as he threw his arms around you tightly. The emotion in his voice cracked as he hugged you like he’d never let go.
“Luca!” you exclaimed, your surprise melting into affection as you scooped him up with ease. His arms wrapped around your neck, his grip desperate, like he’d been holding back tears.
“I was so worried about you!” he blurted, his face pressing into your shoulder.
Your heart ached, but you smiled softly, trying to ease his concern. “Hey, hey, it’s okay. I’m fine,” you reassured him, brushing back his messy hair as you held him close. “Especially now that you’re here.”
Luca pulled back slightly, his small hand reaching for your sunglasses. “Can I see your eyes? Are they still hurt?”
You laughed quietly, letting him lift the sunglasses off your face. His wide, concerned brown eyes searched yours, as if checking for damage.
“I’m much better now,” you said, smoothing his hair with gentle fingers. “See? Good as new.”
Max stood nearby, watching the scene unfold with quiet amusement and curiosity. “And who’s this?” he asked, his tone warm.
“This,” you said, adjusting Luca on your hip, “is Luca. My little brother. Luca, this is Max.”
Luca’s eyes widened slightly. “Max Verstappen.”
Max chuckled, holding out a hand to the boy. “The one and only.”
Luca shyly took Max’s hand, shaking it like he was meeting royalty. “Papa told me you're really fast,” he said, his voice filled with awe.
Max grinned. “I try to keep up. I heard your sister’s even faster, though.”
Luca beamed at the compliment, his earlier worry forgotten as he turned back to you. “You’re still the best, Yn.”
Before you could respond, a nervous figure lingered in your peripheral vision. You turned slightly, spotting your mom standing a few steps away, her hands clasped tightly in front of her. Natalia. She looked relieved and hesitant all at once, her eyes darting between you and Max.
“Mom was really worried,” Luca whispered, leaning close to your ear as if sharing a secret.
You gave a faint nod, your stomach twisting slightly. “I can see that,” you murmured.
Natalia gave Max a tentative wave, her lips twitching into a nervous smile. Max, ever the diplomat, returned the gesture, though his gaze flickered back to you, as if silently asking if you were okay.
You didn’t meet Natalia's eyes directly when she stepped closer, her hand brushing lightly against your arm. The touch was featherlight, almost hesitant, but you felt it nonetheless.
“I’m glad you’re alright,” she said softly, her voice almost lost in the noise of the paddock.
You nodded curtly, playing it off as if it didn’t mean much. “Yeah. I’m fine.”
Her hand lingered for a moment before she pulled it away, her expression unreadable.
Later, in the Red Bull hospitality unit, Max stood near the windows, scrolling idly through his phone as the sun streamed through the glass. When he noticed Natalia approaching, her steps tentative and slow, he slipped his phone into his pocket, giving her his full attention. She looked more frazzled than before, her grip on her purse strap so tight that her knuckles were white.
“Thank you,” she began softly, her voice barely audible. “For looking out for Yn.”
Max inclined his head slightly, his expression neutral but kind. Something in her tone, the weight behind her words, made him straighten.
“She . . . is important to me,” he said simply, his voice steady and warm. “I’d do anything for her.”
Natalia nodded, but instead of relief, her shoulders sagged further. Her lips pressed together as if trying to contain the torrent of emotions threatening to spill over. She glanced toward glass windows upon which she could see you sitting outside with the sky sports presenter, her gaze lingering as though searching for something.
“When I saw the crash,” she began, her voice trembling, “when I heard what happened, all I could think about was losing her. It felt so real—too real. For a moment, I thought I might never get to . . . fix things.”
Her words faltered, but she pushed on, her breaths uneven. “I can’t—Max, I can’t bear the thought of being on bad terms with her anymore. If something had happened, if she . . . if she didn’t come back, and I never got the chance to make things right . . . ” Her voice broke, tears shimmering in her eyes. “I don’t know how I’d live with that.”
She finally met Max’s gaze, her vulnerability laid bare. “I don’t even know where to start. Every time I try, she pulls away. And I don’t blame her—I deserve it.”
Max’s expression softened, a rare tenderness softening the sharp edges of his features. “She’s sttuborn,” he said gently, “but she’s not unkind. She notices the little things, even when she acts like she doesn’t.” He leaned slightly forward, his voice steady and sure. “Start small. Show her you mean it. She might not say anything at first, but she’ll feel it. Just . . . don’t give up on her. Give her some time.”
★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
Later that day, you were filming a TikTok for your new team, a playful math quiz with a twist. Max lounged beside you, his arms crossed, watching your antics with an amused glint in his eyes.
“What’s the square root of 81?” you hummed, trying not to grin too wide at Max who sat beside you, filming his own little tiktok challanges. Out of all the games and filters you could try on tiktok, the admin chose math.
Max arched a brow, clearly unimpressed. “Who do you think I am? I didn’t even graduate,” he deadpanned.
You tilted your head, feigning deep thought before flashing a mischievous smile. “Oscar Piastri.”
Max blinked, processing your response. “Oscar Piastri is the square root of 81?”
“Exactly,” you said confidently, maintaining your best poker face.
Max stared at you, his confusion morphing into reluctant amusement. “You’re ridiculous.”
“You love it,” you quipped, grinning as you turned back to the camera.
By the time the video was posted, the comments section was ablaze. Fans immediately picked up on the joke, flooding the post with references to Oscar’s car number. Max, glancing over your shoulder at the chaos you’d caused, shook his head with a smirk.
“You’re unbelievable,” he muttered, his tone tinged with affection as he leaned closer to watch you type your cheeky replies to the fans.
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delirious-donna · 6 months ago
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Happy Endings And An Unusual Suspect [Part Ten]
story summary: Your best friend lets you crash at her place over the spring break since you have nowhere else to go. Little did you know that it isn't actually her place. Instead, it belongs to a tall (grumpy) hot guy who finds you in his apartment–her brother.
chapter summary: One year on where and what are you and Kento up to? The story might be over but not every part has been told... what happens when you find out that life might not have been as serendipitous as you assumed?
pairing: Nanami Kento x female reader
warnings: fluff, NSFW, smut from the start, happy endings with a little reveal, literally just tooth rotting fluffy and sexy times
Part Nine | Series Masterlist
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“They’re waiting on us… fuck.”
“Let them, I want this. I need this. Move this a little—yeah, like that.”
“Kento! Oh… god, don’t stop. Right there!”
“Someone changed their tune…”
You would smack him if you weren’t holding on to his shoulders and neck for dear life. Plumes of rich champagne skirt bunched around your waist and gave the man holding you against the wall the look of someone being devoured by a rampaging marshmallow. Laughter caught tight in your throat, every time it threatened to squeeze out, a sharp thrust punctured it like a pin into a balloon.
Kento shifted, his stance widening as far as the dress slacks around his knees would allow, but enough to throw your leg over the crook of his arm. He was buried balls deep in you, holding on to the last vestiges of his orgasm by sheer force of will alone. He kissed you, punch drunk and sloppy, taking the colour of your lips with him to stain his mouth and cheek.
“Mrs Nanami,” he crooned.
The clench of your cunt around him made his smile grow wider, white teeth showing through his parted lips and your eyes rolled to the back of your skull at the pure decadence of it all.
“It’s—will you let me—speak!” Kento only doubled down at your request, snapping forward at a pace that stole the words right out of your mouth. An orgasm built with fierce determination, making your voice falter and shake. “—only been ten minutes.”
He couldn’t care if it had been ten minutes or ten years, Kento knew you were his, now in name as well as heart. His forehead rested against yours, chasing his end that hurtled closer with every contraction of your walls around his cock.
A year ago, he wouldn’t have thought this possible. It wasn’t a part of his plans, a wife and family, that was something to be attained once he was financially stable and as high up the ladder as he dared to climb without suffering from burnout.
Yet, as he waited for the ceremony to begin and for the harpist to start the beautiful melody you had picked for your entrance, there was no doubt in his mind that he was exactly where he was meant to be. He was taking a big risk in many aspects of his life, but the one part he was certain about was you and he might have never found his courage had you not ended up in his bathtub that fateful day.
If he thought back to when he walked out of his office for what turned out to be the last time, he recalled the weight that eased from his shoulders. Did he know that at that moment he was changing the course of his future? Definitely not, but with his decision made to find and apologise to you for his mistakes, he fell into an understanding that otherwise might have never become clear to him.
You were his counterbalance. The sunshine that tempted him back into the light when his world felt dark and full of shadows. Perhaps if he had been willing to admit that you saw a side of him that he refused to acknowledge from the start, it wouldn’t have come to such a dramatic head. Except… there was a part of him that knew, deep down, that had things not broken so intrinsically, that this day he was living right now might have never come to exist.
Images of you flashed through his mind, a litany of Polaroid pictures capturing moments that would remain with him until the end days.
Your panic-stricken face and flailing limbs submerged in bubbly water. Laying by his side at the museum as you watched the stars twinkle overhead. Cuddled into his arm when you were scared. Tucked into bed after he carried you there, asleep and smiling. Your tear-stricken face when he pushed you away. The hurt expression that had taken away part of your glow and wounded his soul. Your blissful expression when he made love to you that first time. The most radiant smile when you walked down the aisle.
A knock on the door brought him back into the present with a bump. Kento pressed his palm over your mouth to stifle the surprised squeak, not pausing in his thrusts to answer. “Who is it?”
“You’re wanted for photographs,” a stern and not-too-familiar voice announced, adding a fist to the door in emphasis. “The photographer is getting antsy…”
“We’ll be—” he paused when your tongue darted out to lick his palm and he damn near moaned, “right out.” His jaw set firmly, eyes narrowing on your sweet face and the slow blink you offered without a hint of remorse. You would be the death of him, and he’d be happy to meet his maker knowing you were the one that sent him there.
When a set of footsteps retreated away from the door, Kento relented in uncovering your mouth to reveal a saccharine smile. “That was—reckless.” The word was punctuated with a sharp forward thrust that sank him into what felt like the depths of your belly.
He watched as the smile slipped, your jaw slackening to form a perfect oval of pleasure and without warning, you erupted. The leg draped over his arm twitched and spasmed, but it was nothing compared to your silken pussy milking him for his seed. Kento shuddered and let go. Your orgasm tripped his own, balls drawn tight to his pelvis whilst he filled you with his spend. Every moment of release made him reminisce about the very first, where you had playfully chastised him for painting your stomach and asked that he finish inside you in the future.
A promise that he had kept since that day.
“I love you, Mrs Nanami…”
“I know, and I love you too, Mr Nanami.” You traced the curve of his jaw, smiling at the kiss he pressed to the inside of your wrist. “Now let’s go fulfil our duties, yes?”
Kento helped you back into the perfect semblance of a blushing bride, fixing your underwear back into place and smoothing down the skirts of your dress. There was a dark glint of satisfaction in his eye, knowing that you would spend the day with his cum inside you, that you’d be clenching to keep it from running down the inside of your thighs.
“Don’t give me that look, mister,” you said suddenly, knowing. Kento glanced up, sheepish in being caught so readily in his filthy daydreaming.
“I don’t know what you mean, my love.”
You scoffed. A finger caught beneath his chin, drawing him to full height and closer to your face. “You think I don’t know what you’re thinking?” You teased with a purr, “How about if you can behave yourself until tonight… I’ll let you check if I’ve managed to keep your little gift, hm?”
“You are a devil incarnate.”
“A devil you married. What does that say about you?”
“That I am not above temptation.”
“Took you long enough to realise.”
~
You smiled at the photographer who was wringing his hands together in panic, his eyes widening and shoulders sagging when the two of you appeared from the naughty little bubble of your private tryst.
Kento had changed; in ways you had never thought possible, but he was still the same man you met and fell in love with. There were still times his posture stiffened at your antics, and his eyebrow would not-so-subtly arch if he thought you were in some way being ridiculous. However, he appreciated his own happiness more than financial gain. He worked on himself internally instead of only focusing on the outside. No longer was the time it takes to read and enjoy a good book considered wasted time, and he pursued hobbies he assumed would never be touched again.
Would you have suspected him to indulge in a fevered moment of pure lust and desire back when you first met him? No. But it hadn’t taken you long to discover that he possessed certain buttons that would drive him to almost any lengths, and becoming a savant at playing him was your ambition in life.
Gazing wistfully at your husband—heart skipping a beat at the new term that had yet to sink in—you considered just how far you both had come in little over a year. You had graduated from college with honours, started an internship at a small independent company that was growing quickly but organically, and you were newly married. That part was going to take some time to get used to.
After the dramatic events that led Kento to your apartment door that spring afternoon, you took things slow but steady. It was nice to date him like you might do any other person, and he tried so hard to impress you that you fell even harder for him. Home-cooked dinners in your apartment’s cramped kitchen, long lazy walks where you talked for hours about everything and nothing, and so many hours spent rolling around the sheets. Not always in the pursuit of sex, sometimes just indulging in one another—watching his chest rise and fall, connecting the little freckles that dappled his shoulders.
It wasn’t until a month into your newfound relationship did you step past the threshold of his apartment again. Something was holding you back before that moment, a sense that if you returned it wouldn’t hold the same magic that it once had. Except you were wrong.
The apartment held a pivotal role in what had brought you together, and that was no more evident than when you returned, and everything was exactly how it had been. The same aroma of expensive coffee beans mingled with a fragrance that you knew now to be Kento’s favoured cologne. The panoramic windows offered the same undisturbed view of the city, and the sprawling couch with its basket of blankets would forever remind you of when you clung to him during a scary movie, and that first experience of his lips gracing your skin.
It felt like coming home after far too long. Since that first trip back, you hadn’t spent a night away until last night—the night before your wedding. Kento’s proposal was a story in itself, but for another time, you mused.
Speaking of your darling new husband, there was a part of you that still couldn’t believe that after he took off all his allotted, and well-overdue vacation time, he had handed in his notice with immediate effect. No one was more shocked than the man himself, and the panic that followed his decision had been a rollercoaster ride of euphoric highs and crushing lows.
He wasn’t happy with what he was doing day in and day out, the work was physically draining the vibrancy out of his life, but what does one do when they cannot do?
They teach.
So, in what felt like role reversal, Kento joined your alma mater as a junior professor, and you entered the working world. Teaching suited him far more than you had anticipated. His stern façade and seeming indifference towards difficult students had a way of drawing out the potential in his young charges. It was only a few terms into his first year of teaching and the feedback was already far beyond the expectations in place.
What a difference a year makes…
The evening was finally drawing in, the sun setting behind the cherry blossom trees to paint the sky a beautiful pale pink and you couldn’t wait to retire for the evening and get out of this dress. As exquisite as it was, it was cumbersome for someone used to the comfort of jeans, oversized sweaters and casual dresses.
You caught Kento’s eye from across the room and he nodded in complete understanding without the need to say a word. He gave his apologies to the couple he had been conversing with, pointing towards you and they inclined their heads in your direction. All you could do was watch the majesty that was the man of your dreams walk to you. His suit was deep navy and paired with a buttercup yellow tie and pocket square. Thankfully it was not the yellow splattered tie of your memories, though he had tried to persuade you, unsuccessfully so.
Like a male model he walked with a grace you dreamed of, and before you knew it, his palm was beneath your elbow.
“Ready to call it a night?” He asked with a tone in his voice that assured you that no sleeping would be taking place anytime soon.
“It’s like you read my mind. I’ll just say goodnight to my parents and yours,” you started before someone caught a hold of your wrist.
Looking down you saw a feminine hand with a simple gold bracelet adorning flawless skin and pretty manicured nails.
“Karin,” Kento said, startled by her sudden appearance. “I haven’t seen you since the ceremony, where have you been?”
Kento’s sister loosened her gentle hold to place your hand into her brother’s hand with an unreadable expression. She was tall, always had been taller than you even when you wore heels, and her hair was darker than Kento’s corn wheat blond. Their eyes were their most similar feature, hazel in colour and almost alive with warm flecks that intensified or darkened depending on their mood.
Your friendship had survived you dating her brother, although it would be a lie to pretend that things hadn’t changed. However, it could be said that no matter who you had ended up with or that she had met and fallen for, things would be different. It was the next chapter of your lives and whilst you both embraced a friendship that went beyond the trappings of young adulthood, if you didn’t shift with the momentum then it wouldn’t last.
“It worked then,” Karin said with an awfully self-satisfied smile.
“What worked?” Kento asked whilst your eyes narrowed in suspicion.
Karin clicked her tongue against her teeth and rested her chin in the hold of her thumb and finger. “Oh, y’know… my plan.”
“Stop talking in riddles and spit it out, I can tell you’re dying to,” you said with an exaggerated eye roll at her antics.
“You, dear brother,” she pointed dramatically at Kento who raised his eyebrows, “have needed someone in your life that would remove the stick out of your butt and remind you that life was worth living. Work is not the epitome of existence after all.”
You snorted loudly, drawing a wider smile from your friend and a scowl from your husband. Kento nudged your hip, and you patted his arm dutifully. “On the money with that assessment but what does that have to do with anything?”
“And you,” she rounded on you as if you hadn’t spoken, “needed a little more stability in your life and someone that you could depend on no matter what.”
“What are you—”
“Karin! Are you saying you planned our meeting?” You interjected across Kento, who snapped his head around to his little sister with alarm.
“But you couldn’t have. No one knew I wasn’t going on that trip apart from me and…”
“Satoru,” Karin finished his sentence for him. “I must admit that I hadn’t foreseen that little snag in the plan, but I had him keep you in the office until I knew your beautiful bride was already in your apartment. Didn’t you think about it even a little? That retreat was only a weekend long, you were always going to come back to find someone in your home.”
You looked at Kento. Kento looked at you. His mouth gaped open then shut like a fish out of water.
“You two became so wrapped up in each other that you didn’t even put two and two together. Not even when you both blasted my phone, it only lasted one night then I barely heard a peep from either of you! It was like you were happy with the arrangement…” she supplied easily, too easily.
Goddammit. You had been played and you didn’t even realise. For a whole year, Karin had gone along with your stories of the time you spent with her brother, lamenting his frustrating lack of intuition when it came to the opposite sex and steering away from the spicier moments that any sibling would rather be buried alive than listen to.
Honestly, you didn’t know what to say, but thankfully Karin was happy to continue in your stead.
“I couldn’t exactly make you like each other, and what happened once you were both in the apartment could have been anything. All those decisions and regrets,” she eyed Kento with a cold, piercing look and you felt him squirm uncomfortably by your side, “they were yours to make. I did nothing but set the pieces on the board, you played the game and you won.”
Should you thank her or be utterly appalled? It was hard to tell. In the end, you gave in to the third option of the laughter filling you like a helium balloon. It burst forth all at once until others started to turn their heads and watch as the bride doubled over clutching their stomach from the sensation.
You hugged her, arms flung around her neck in a genuine display that she reciprocated with a warmth which was familiar and comforting. “We’ll talk about this another time, Karin, but for now… thank you.”
As she departed to rejoin the throng of people on the dance floor, you turned to your husband who was ashen and unblinking. “I feel like she just pulled a Keyser Soze on us,” you whispered, tugging on his hand and making to move off in the direction of both sets of parents who were waiting for you both.
“And I feel like most people your age wouldn’t even know who that is,” he teased, finally coming out of his startled trance.
“Tch. You say that like I’m decades younger than you instead of a measly five years. Five years is nothing, y'know.”
Kento smiled down at you, emotions filling his gaze until he looked away and caught Karin’s eye from the other side of the room. He mouthed ‘thank you’ and meant it. His sister had given him the greatest gift he could ever receive, and he would be grateful until the end of days.
He had started as your best friend’s brother, but Kento had become so much more…
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paceprompting · 1 month ago
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by firelight
written for ‘fireplace’ and ‘cabin’ wc: 991 # | steddie | rated: m | cw: no archive warnings apply | tags: established relationship, winter cabin getaway, implied sexual content, soft romance
@steddieholidaydrabbles @steddiemas
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“Aren’t these more of a Halloween thing? Or summer camp?” Steve asked, settling down on the rug with a soft grunt.
Eddie, braced on his hands and knees, poked at the logs starting to catch with a fire poker. He only had a vague idea of setting a fire—just enough to know to get a starter log and use crumbled paper to light it with. Or maybe he was about to burn down their rental cabin in a blaze of well-meant idiocy.
He backed off before any of that happened, clapping his hands to get the residual wood grain off his hands.
“Hey, not all of us got to spend two weeks goofing off in the woods, singing kumbaya,” he said, cocking his head in Steve’s direction, curls falling over his shoulder.
Steve raised his brow, leaned back on both hands with his legs outstretched. “The only time I was at camp, I was a lifeguard.”
Eddie hummed, dragging his eyes along Steve’s chest, picturing the familiar sight of Steve’s bare chest—except this time sun-tanned and dripping wet as he climbed out of a lake in tiny red shorts.
“Guess I did miss out,” he said.
Steve smirked, because you could take the jock of the court, but not so much the ego out of the jock. And Eddie did plenty to inflate his…ego.
“Weren’t you in the middle of something that’s probably going to cost us our deposit?”
Oh, how Steve could ruin Eddie’s ill-advised plans. Wasn’t usually with another ill-advised plan, though.
“I suppose you can have dessert first,” Eddie said with a drawn-about sigh.
Neither of them believed him; not with the bright grin on his face on he shifted on his knees and pulled over a tray from the kitchen, loaded with supplies.
Graham crackers, chocolate bars, and marshmallows.
Perfect for romance by firelight.
Whatever Eddie had done, the crackling flames had enveloped the logs within the polished dark wood fireplace, emanating warmth and flickering orange light. Eddie glanced at Steve to see it dance across the line of his jaw and reflecting off the soft brown of his eyes. Making them almost hazel.
Steve nabbed a marshmallow as soon as they were in reach, popping it in his mouth and chewing with puffed out cheeks. Eddie faux-scowled, skewering two other marshmallows. Steve winked, and damn it how gone Eddie was for him that he blushed because of it.
He offered one skewer to Steve, who went about pushing it down further while Eddie stuck his right into the fire.
“You do this often?” Steve asked as he shuffled to Eddie’s side and hovered his marshmallow just above the top of the flames.
“Never,” Eddie replied happily, as he brought his marshmallow out of the flames and abruptly blew it out. Charred. Perfect. “Usually do this in the microwave and watch them puff up.”
Steve hummed and leaned into Eddie. They stayed shoulder to shoulder while Eddie prepped his s’more and Steve carefully toasted. Steve finished by the time Eddie took his first bite, stretching out the gooey center as far as it would go.
He gathered the mess on his fingers to get the rest of it into his mouth, ignoring Steve’s chuckle. He did notice, however, that Steve merely ate the second marshmallow straight off the skewer.
“You’re supposed to add the chocolate and graham cracker,” he said, shoving the rest of his own into his mouth.
Steve just stared as Eddie swallowed.
“What?”
Steve waved toward himself. “C’mere.”
“Seriously, what?” Eddie nearly laughed just to ease his thrumming pulse.
Steve smiled and leaned forward on one hand.
“You have chocolate. Right here,” he said and then planted his lips onto Eddie’s.
His mouth was sticky and sweet, and Eddie opened eagerly when Steve swiped his tongue along his bottom lip. He placed both his hands on Steve’s jaw, knowing that he was leaving sticky fingerprints. Wasn’t worse than the hickies and other possessive marks he’d ever left on Steve.
“You do this for everyone?” he asked, mumbled against Steve’s mouth.
Steve hooked his hands underneath Eddie’s thighs and lifted him to straddle his lap. He nipped at Eddie’s bottom lip and rasped, “Save it for special occasions.”
Eddie slid his hand underneath Steve’s sweater, dark blue and handsome, but utterly in his way. He trailed his fingers up and up, dragging through Steve’s chest hair until he captured Eddie’s mouth again and his hand was pushed down between them.
Even better, anyway.
Steve gasped once he realized what Eddie was doing, flicking open the button of his jeans and wrangling the zipper down. It’d seemed like a good idea when he started, but Steve’s damn boxers and his own hips were in the way of what Eddie really wanted.
“You have to work with me here, big boy,” Eddie murmured, and Steve let him push him down onto his back, hair a fucking mess laid out on the rug. He panted while he watched Eddie yank down his clothes until he could slide his hand underneath his pesky layers.
Steve moaned at Eddie’s touch, pushing up with his elbows to drag a hand into Eddie’s curls and urge him into another kiss. They met in the middle, with Eddie half kneeling over him, slowly stroking Steve in time with the rocking of his hips.
“Ed—” Steve tried, but Eddie twisted his wrist and pulled out another gasp instead. He tugged at Eddie’s hair in retaliation. They both moaned at that, and heat not from the fire shot through Eddie’s spine.
“Not fair,” Eddie whined, speeding up his hand.
Steve pressed his face to Eddie’s throat, breath hot and wet on his skin. “Let me cum and I’ll repay you twice over.”
Steve had to be drawing close, to give Eddie that kind of ammunition.
“Only if you say please,” he teased.
Steve tugged hard on his grip in Eddie’s curls and hissed, “Please, Eddie.”
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raitonsfw · 1 year ago
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𝚓𝚞𝚒𝚌𝚎 𝚖𝚎𝚕𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚛𝚊𝚜𝚙𝚋𝚎𝚛𝚛𝚢 𝚙𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚎 | 𝚍𝚘𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚎𝚟𝚜𝚔𝚢 𝚏𝚢𝚘𝚍𝚘𝚛
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synopsis: Fyodor offers to take care of you on your period, as weird as that seems to you. Normally it would be the usual gestures, like milk chocolates and warm baths; but you never thought he’d be into this.
warnings: 18+ mdni, fem!reader, smut, period smut, blood play/kink, cunnilingus, fingering, p in v intercourse, dirty talk, creampie, massages, petnames (my love, good girl), insecurity about having a period, fyodor's a sweetheart.
a/n: marked it as dark content because well, blood play. if its not your thing that's okay, personally was just craving fyodor in every type of way today so this idea came about. wc: 2.7k. m.list
now playing: MOON CYCLE by melanie martinez
divider credit: @benkeibear
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You had curled up near the window with one of Fyodor’s blankets wrapped around you. It was cold outside, nothing new, it was winter after all. The holidays would be coming up soon and you reminded yourself to look for a present for him in the next few weeks. A mug of hot cocoa sat amongst the coffee table and you stared at it solemnly.
Fyodor hadn’t come home yet.
It’s the same routine over and over. You wait by the window, seeking solace in the snow that stuck to the branches of the trees. His footsteps were often covered over by the time you awoke in the morning, the goodbye forgotten on the tip of your tongue because he never managed to disturb your sleep. He was silent in the dawned sunrise, the light barely reaching the windows that he opened for you. The birds chirped lightly as he left without so much as a trace lingering within the bedsheets next to you.
The window was your company, in its hinges and blinds. It was your only company as you waited for him to come back from his post. You didn’t know what he did most days, it didn’t matter in your eyes. He never brought home the insolent manner he forgave in the midst of his work. He’d lay everything outside the door and walk in with a fresh aura, something you were grateful for. And then the rest of the night, he was yours.
The hot cocoa had gone cold, the marshmallows melted into the drink and you frowned at it. You forgot you had made it for yourself, too preoccupied by the starlight moving its way through the sky. It wouldn’t do much for you anymore, the comfortability of the hot drink wouldn’t make your pain go away. It was that time of the month, where everything ceased to be exciting. It felt horrible, especially without your lover’s arms massaging your aches away.
Fyodor would take care of you, to the best of his ability at least. Chocolates would be sitting by the fireplace and warm baths would be drawn for your sake when he knew you weren’t feeling all that well. Fresh blankets would be piled onto the edge of the bed as well as some of his clothes for you to wear. But what he couldn’t help you with was the insatiable wanting that overcame you, you wanted him on a silver platter. Wanted nothing but to be touched by him, in every place you could imagine. Wanted nothing but to touch him and make him beg with that lovely accent of his, dripping curses from his lips.
But you couldn’t picture Fyodor ever doing such a thing for you. Not when his hands were so clean, you knew blood would surely taint his demeanor. Maybe he would even leave you, disgusted by the simple question. You didn’t want to ask, afraid of what the future would look like without him due to a stupid fantasy. A stupid desire.
The front door opened with a quiet noise, pulling you from your muses. Your head snapped towards it and you smiled. “You’re home.”
“My love, you look cold.” Was the first thing he said when he saw you, cuddled up in the corner of the sofa. You nodded, snuggling up more into the blanket. His scent wafted off of it and it eased you as you watched him put his belongings down on the kitchen counter.
“I have the fireplace going, plus I found your blanket at the bottom of the closet.”
“Ah, so that’s where that went.” He chuckled lowly, shedding his overcoat and hanging it over one of the dining chairs. His hat came off next, resting on the same chair. “How was the day?”
“It was fine, I just read a book.” You held up the small book from your lap, flipping through the pages for emphasis. “I finished it too.”
“Was it one of the ones you found from my collection?” He asked as he moved around the living room, tidying up some of the mess you had made. He picked up the stale hot cocoa mug and pondered at it for a second. “Would you like another one?”
“No, it’s okay Fyo.” You sighed, waving your hand at him. You probably wouldn’t drink a fresh one either. The dull pain crawled against your back and you pouted a bit. “I don’t want to waste another one.”
He murmured a tiny ‘okay’, bringing it over to the kitchen counter. You continued talking about the book you read, it was one of the ones you found from his massive collection. He had a library of sorts, to say the least. Bookshelves lined the bedroom you shared with him, novels housed within the wooden crevices. You were stunned when you first saw the shelves as you moved your belongings in, forgetting how much of a bookworm he could be.
Now they comforted you as you sat alone on those chilly days, waiting for his return.
“You’re not feeling well?” Fyodor asked, a hint of concern sprinkled in his voice.
“I’m fine.”
“You don’t seem to be.” He came up behind you, leaning over the sofa to kiss the top of your head. He placed his hands on your shoulders and squeezed gently, trailing them down your back. His fingers kneaded into the depths of your shoulder blades, relieving some of the pain that sat there. “My love…”
You shivered at his touch even though it was over the blanket, reveling in the way his presence felt. He gently moved your hair away from your neck, pressing a few kisses there with a soft hum. His tongue lapped at the light hickies, some he left days prior when he couldn’t keep his hands off of you. One of your hands came up from under the blanket to rest in his hair as he sucked a few more into your skin, a soft moan leaving your mouth.
“Did you miss me?” Fyodor asked quietly and your hand ran through the soft strands of his hair, pulling at them lovingly. You captured him quickly into a hushed kiss, moving your lips gently against his. A short noise came from his mouth, like he was a bit shocked you kissed him first. He wasn’t used to you making any moves, normally you let him take the reins and decide how he wanted to move his chess pieces with you. A strategic game it was, he had to come up with new ways to keep you entertained so you wouldn’t become bored.
“I’ll take that as a yes.” He muttered against your lips, a smug laugh coming from him. You pulled him closer to you, that wanton feeling hitting hard in the pit of your tummy and you whined into the kiss. You needed him, needed to watch as his eyes rolled back from searing pleasure, needed to hear him force your name out between sobs-
He broke the kiss, patting you lightly on the arm and you looked at him confused as he leaned back up. “Fyodor-?”
Your confusion fizzled away as he picked you up from over the sofa and you realized you shouldn’t have started this. You shouldn’t have gone with your instincts, shouldn't have given in. You couldn’t tell him no, he knew you wanted him from the way you just acted– how were you supposed to tell him you were on your period?
Or did he already know from how you were acting? Did he not care? You couldn’t tell. Panic set in underneath your skin and you fidgeted in his arms as he brought you to the bedroom. As he laid you down on the bed, you hesitated when the white sheets caught your eye. “W-Wait, hold on.”
“What is it, my love?” His hands snaked underneath the soft shirt you were, one of his shirts, and you let out a yelp at the cold intrusion. Fyodor rolled his hips against you slightly and you whimpered a bit as his erection rubbed against your clothed clit. You really didn’t want to stop, a small sigh had escaped him and you were going feral from it.
“Ah, your hands are cold.” You whined out, but you didn’t really care all that much. “I don’t think we should-”
“It’s okay.” Fyodor said, looking at you with concern again. You felt your heart sink at his expression as he got to his knees and off of you to give you space. “We can stop if you don’t want to.”
“It’s not that I don’t want to…” You trailed off, looking towards his bookshelves. He really did have quite a collection, the series neatly cluttered together in the heart of the center shelf. You avoided his gaze on you, hoping he wouldn’t question any further. But deep down, you were praying he’d realize and still fuck you into oblivion.
Fyodor’s eyes kinda widened, seemingly understanding why you were acting this way. You knew he wouldn’t shame you, a warm bath was waiting and he’d go out to get you that milk chocolate for you, letting you eat it to your heart’s content. “Time of the month?”
You nodded and a wave of sadness rushed over you, tears pricking the corners of your eyes. You couldn’t help that you feared the worst. Not that he’d leave you, but that he wouldn’t indulge you. Your arousal had already settled within your body, the buzzing sensation rushing through your veins. It would be such a bother if he stopped now-
Fyodor pulled you from your thoughts again. “Please don’t cry.”
You felt him rub small circles into your hip and you couldn’t be more thankful at the intimate gesture. He pressed his face into your neck, holding you in a tight embrace and you let out a shaky breath.
“I don’t mind.” You heard him murmur into your neck, his hands trailing to your waist. “I can take care of you.”
“With a bath and chocolate?” The familiarity felt nice, though your mood became dampened. You glanced down at where his hands were, but you didn’t question it.
“No, my love.” Fyodor made his way down to your chest, planting kisses above your breasts and over them. He sighed fruitfully as he thought about what you asked, hiking your shirt up over your tummy. “Well, yes if that’s what you want waiting for you afterwards…”
You watched him lap his tongue against your chest, sucking bruises into the delicate flesh and you groaned out, head falling back against the pillows. He let out a slight laugh as you opened your legs for him a bit, letting him settle in between them. Moving downwards towards the pudge of your tummy, Fyodor pinned you to the bed by your thigh.
His fingers slipped inside the waistband of your (his) sweats and you gasped as they found your clit like second nature. He massaged it gently, taking in your choked whines. “I’ve been thinking about you all day…”
His violet eyes bored into your figure as you seethed under his touch, his forefinger dipping slightly into your cunt. He moaned to himself as he felt the wetness, the blood that pooled there, slicking up the tip of his finger. Of course he didn’t care, he just wanted you– in fact, you might’ve awakened a new kink in him.
“Maybe I’ll even taste you, savor you on my tongue…” He continued with a whine etching the end of his sentence, mocking yours as you pushed yourself up onto your elbows weakly. “You want me to-?”
You cut him off sharply, the ‘yes’ falling from your lips as his fingers slid fully in. Curling them in and out, you arched your back with his name falling from your lips. “F-Fyo-”
“Yes, my love?” He didn’t stop, sped up his movements even, looking up at you with endearing eyes. Yours stared back, albeit some uncertainty filled them. He kissed you once to calm your nerves before lowering back down towards your thighs with an assuring smile. “Don’t worry about the sheets.”
He slipped his fingers out quickly and tugged your sweats over the swell of your ass, pulling them off completely. Pad and panties forgotten, he moved them aside to the edge of the bed somewhere. Gripping both of your thighs, he hoisted them over his shoulders and fervently licked a small stripe up your cunt to test you. And when you moaned out, eyes shutting tightly and hands flying to his head, he dove right in.
He savored your metallic taste, lapping at your clit and into your cunt with a lick of his tongue. Fyodor groaned into you as you pulled his hair, your thighs twitching as he drove you crazy. He could feel your slick against his cheeks, but he didn’t mind. He welcomed the way it made you squirm, you were pliant and submissive, desperate to feel something– anything. You were completely putty in his hands and his dick throbbed in his trousers, strained against the white material.
He came up for air, his face stained and you gasped. But, again he didn’t mind, simply just wiping it off on his sleeve as he moved to pull himself out of his confines.
“Fuck, can’t wait any longer.” Fyodor breathed out as he positioned himself between you. Sinking in slowly, a low moan was drawn out of him and you nearly came right then and there. His hands came to clasp yours and his dark eyes fluttered shut as he bottomed out. He felt you tighten around him and he shook with pleasure as he thrusted into you. “Such a good girl for me…”
You whimpered in response, feeling the way he dragged within you. It felt like you were on fire, every single instance of you dreaming about this coming to the surface and melting from his touch. He pushed into you again and again, a slow rhythm, and even though it was slow, an obscene noise came from it. The wet squelching made you dizzy with excitement and Fyodor buried his head into your neck again, panting out small curses.
It felt amazing, Fyodor could barely contain his moans. His cock had stuffed you to the hilt and your blood made it so easy to fuck into you without much force. He rocked into you with tiny whimpers, trying so hard not to cum but he felt it rushing up his spine the more he plunged into you. This was the best decision he’s ever made, to take care of his lover who needed him.
You chanted out his name, your back arching up into him and he thrusted into you faster. He pinned you down again as he changed his position, leaning back and pulling your thighs close to his hips as he sat almost on his haunches. He watched his dick disappear in and out of you, the so-called red filth becoming near molten gold to him. You gripped the pillow above you for leverage as he plowed into you. You felt your orgasm nearing, expelling within your nerves and you whimpered, looking at Fyodor. He looked back at you with hooded eyes and pressed one of his hands on your tummy.
His hips faltered slightly and you watched his eyes roll back, pumping shallowly into you and painting your insides with his cum. He fucked it into you and your orgasm followed right after him, nearly shattering your senses as you clenched around him harshly.
Fyodor pulled out of you, littering kisses against your flushed cheeks as you caught your breath. He massaged your hips fondly and smiled warmly. “I’ll run the bath for you, my love.”
You don’t know what you did to get such a perfect lover; one minute you were in such a dark place and the next, he’s there to kiss your sorrows away. He went to run the bath for you and you looked at the sheets, blemished with you– you and him combined and all you could think of was how the hell you were going to get the stains out.
“Don’t worry about the sheets. I’ll take care of it, now come here and let me take care of you.”
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a/n: wanna get tagged in future writing posts? join my taglist!
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dollishmehrayan · 26 days ago
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# GINGERBREAD HOUSES AND KISSES GALORE ── .✦ ( a drabble of building a gingerbread house with dick because why not )
a/n: can’t believe it’s already like 20th December and I haven’t wrote a actual fic && I’ve hadn’t done anything Christmas cheer either, tags: (dick grayson x fem!reader)
© dollishmehrayan — ( all rights reserved to me. These works cannot be reposted, translated, or modified. Thank you for understanding dollies! )
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The kitchen was filled with the warm, inviting aroma of ginger and cinnamon, a testament to the holiday season. A soft glow illuminated the room as twinkling fairy lights draped across the windows. You stood at the countertop, a wide grin on your face as you opened the giant box of gingerbread house components. This was your annual tradition with Dick Grayson, and you were determined to make this year the best yet. “Alright, let’s see what we’ve got!” you exclaimed, pulling out the pre-baked gingerbread panels, icing tubes, and an assortment of colorful candies. “I hope you brought your A-game, Grayson. Last year’s house was… well, let’s just say it resembled a sad little shack.”, “Hey, that was an artistic interpretation! This year, I promise you a mansion!” He rolled up his sleeves with exaggerated flair, the playful smile never leaving his face. You both got to work, establishing your mini gingerbread empire on the countertop. Dick was in charge of the assembly, carefully applying icing like a glue that held everything together. You, on the other hand, were the creative mastermind, directing the candy placement like a conductor leading an orchestra. “Let’s put the gummy bears in the front yard!” you suggested, shoving a handful of them toward him. “I thought we were going for a classy look? Gummy bears don’t exactly scream sophistication,” he teased, winking at you. You feigned offense, placing a hand dramatically on your heart. “What’s wrong with gummy bears? They add character! Besides, they can be the cheerful neighbors.” With a laugh, Dick complied, placing the gummy bears and popping one in his mouth, then placing around the doorstep of your half-finished gingerbread house. The two of you continued your banter, throwing ideas back and forth, with Dick keeping the house standing while you sprinkled candy canes and m&m’s like they were confetti. “Okay, but hear me out,” he said, looking serious for a moment. “What if we made the roof a little more… eclectic?” He held up a handful of marshmallows, a smirk playing on his lips. “Eclectic? You mean lopsided? Remember my last attempt at the roof? It looked like it had been through a windstorm!” “Exactly! Let’s give it some character!” He threw a marshmallow at you, and you ducked just in time, laughing as it ricocheted off the wall and landed on the floor for haley to eat. Through giggles and playful jabs, the gingerbread house began to take shape, each candy placement a step towards completion. You found your heartwarming joy in the simplicity of the moment just you and dick, surrounded by sweet chaos and laughter. Once the house was finally assembled, you both took a step back to admire your masterpiece. It was a bit crooked in places, and the roof did have a slight lean, but it was the most beautiful gingerbread house you had ever seen. It was yours, and it was perfect. “Okay,let’s take a picture!” you declared, grabbing your phone. Dick wrapped an arm around your shoulder, pulling you close as you both posed with the house. “Say ‘gingerbread!’” he called, “No wait-“ and as the camera clicked the photo came out blurry but you both burst into laughter, your cheeks flushed with happiness. The rest of the night was spent sipping hot chocolate, munching on leftover candy, and reminiscing about past holidays. As the warmth of the room enveloped you, you felt content, knowing that these moments with Dick would always be your favorite memories. “Next year,” you said, leaning against him, “we’ll go for a full gingerbread village.” dick chuckled, his voice soft. “Only if I get to make the lopsided roofs again.” “Deal,” you replied, snuggling closer, the cozy atmosphere wrapping around you like a warm blanket, knowing that as long as you were together, every moment would be sweet. ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖
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onlymingyus · 1 year ago
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Our Dawn is Hotter than Our Day
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pairing; kim mingyu x lee jihoon x f!reader
genre; smut (minors dni)
warnings; poly relationship, mlm, unprotected sex, consensual filming of sexual acts, handjob, fingering, oral (m & f receiving/giving) cum play/eating, marking/biting, impact play/spanking, punishment, dom!jihoon, switch!mingyu, sub!reader/brat!reader, brat taming, manhandling (m&f), pet names/degrading names, degrading/praise, aftercare
w/c; 7.3k and some change (1.2k this teaser--i was feeling generous)
a/n; this one is fully self indulgent and my own birthday present to myself. so...happy birthday me! thank you to @wonwussy for proofreading; thank you to @wongyuseokie for beta-ing part of this; thank you to @bitchlessdino, @horanghater, and @wooahaeproductions for helping me brainstorm pet names.
this fic is a Patreon Exclusive subscribe to my Patreon and click here
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You could hear their voices before you could see them. Not that you were looking. No, that would mean opening your eyes. You didn’t feel that neither Mingyu nor Jihoon deserved your attention at the moment. Had you spent a little too much time in the sun by the pool today? Probably, but you had been left in bed on your own this morning. 
“The water looks nice.” 
Jihoon just nods as a hum of approval leaves his lips. His eyes moved quickly from the water to where you were resting on a chair. Sunglasses covered your eyes, but he could still tell you were actively avoiding looking at them—ever their brat. 
“Seems like you’d be the first of us to enjoy it, Mingyu. Our little princess isn’t wet at all. Have you been laying in the sun all morning?” 
Huffing out a laugh, Mingyu lifts his brow, giving you a good once over. Jihoon was right. There wasn’t a single sign that you had used the pool without them. Were you that mad? He knew you didn’t like to be left in bed alone, but you also knew they always went to the gym first thing in the morning. 
“Is she not? That’s a shame. Did you at least drink some water, honey?” 
This was supposed to be a vacation for the three of you. It was time to take a break from the mundane schedules, yet they were keeping right up with that schedule. When you don’t answer, Mingyu scoffs, sitting down by the side of the pool. The water is cool against his legs as it moves like tiny waves caused by others playing at the other end, just out of hearing distance. 
Jihoon rolls his eyes. He knew what you were doing, and he knew you were mad. He had known it all day. He had watched Mingyu send you selfies, pictures of him, and even videos while the larger man pouted at his phone, not getting a single response. You were giving them both the cold shoulder, and for what? Leaving you sleeping in a comfy bed on vacation instead of waking you up at the crack of dawn to kiss you goodbye?
Shaking his head at Mingyu, Jihoon presses his tongue against his cheek before pulling his arm over his chest to stretch out the muscle. He was less patient with your bratty side. His hand was already itching, and it was too bad you were all in public. Instead of saying anything, Jihoon sighs loudly, sitting beside you on one of the loungers, to open your water bottle as Mingyu just smirks.  
“Baby…my sweet little marshmallow puff? Are you mad at us?” 
Now, Mingyu was pushing your buttons on purpose. Watching your nose wrinkle at the overly cute pet name, Mingyu grinned and winked at Jihoon before watching the man take a sip from your water bottle. 
“You know she is. She’s got ears. She knows how to listen and how to talk when she wants something. What we should do is just leave her pretty little ass down here and go back up to the room…” 
Jihoon’s threat makes you shoot him a dirty look. They wouldn’t dare go back up without you. The smirk on his lips told you everything. He had gotten what he wanted. Your eyes were open now, and you had acknowledged one of them. Making an "aw..." sound, Jihoon nods at your scowl before he tips your water bottle back once more, taking a sip of it. 
“It’s my water…” 
Your voice is quiet and annoyed, causing Jihoon to smile before licking his lips clean of the water. So you could speak. He had been right. 
“It’s warm water.” 
Shrugging, you start to sit up, trying to take it from Jihoon, when cold water splashes you in the direction of Mingyu. Not a lot of water, but enough that you are startled and yell his name. Mingyu’s laugh is playful, his fingers sliding through the water once more to collect more water as you lift your hand to run it over your hair, checking the damage. 
“He said your water was warm. I wanted to cool you down, princess.”
Pouting, you push your glasses, which were speckled with drips of water, to the top of your head. Swiping your bottle from Jihoon, you put the opening to your lips, drinking some of the warm water with a scowl still on your lips as the two men chuckle. 
“Does he need to splash you again, or can you stop being a brat? Did you even check your phone? Mingyu sent you pictures and videos all morning.” 
Mingyu purses his lips, watching you shake your head. You had heard the notifications going off, but in your pursuit to pay your boyfriends back for their behavior, you had chosen to avoid all contact. 
“That makes me sad, baby. Maybe you’re right, Jihoon. We should go upstairs without her. If she wants to act up.” 
The sound of your water bottle closing and hitting the fabric of the chair under you causes Mingyu to press his lips together in order to keep himself from laughing. You were so cute when you were pouty like this. You were so easy to get riled up, even when you were trying so hard not to be the big, bad brat who could withstand anything either of them said. It was clear that you couldn’t handle the idea of them going to bed without you. 
“That’s what I’m saying. Since Y/N doesn’t care enough to even look at what you’ve sent her, she’s got no idea what she missed already. Stupid, pretty little princess just has her mind on being left in bed alone.” 
Your cheeks were burning with each of Jihoon’s degrading words. You knew he didn’t actually think you were stupid. Not in any real sense of how intelligent you were. This was more about how he could get you to react in the bedroom, yet here you were in public, and he wasn’t being subtle. 
“I don’t like when you do that. It would have taken you like two seconds to wake me up and tell me where you were going.” 
Shaking his head, Jihoon starts to speak when Mingyu leans back on his elbows, doing it first. 
“You knew where we would be. Where do we always go that early in the morning?" 
Scoffing, you go to reach for your phone only to watch Jihoon take it from the table before you get the chance. His lips are pursing in interest as he unlocks it and swipes through the pictures and videos that Mingyu sent you from the gym. 
“Answer his question. You didn’t want this before; why would you want it now?” 
Your eyes move back to Mingyu, who lifts his shoulders, waiting for your answer. In the bedroom and in most aspects of your relationship, Mingyu was the softer of the two. He was your big teddy bear who would look at your pouted lips and fluttering lashes and give in. But there were times, like today, when he was more like Jihoon. 
“We are on vacation, Gyu. You two don’t have to go to the gym every single day we are here. Spend a little time with me.” 
READ THE FULL FIC ON PATREON HERE
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© onlymingyus - all rights reserved. Reposting/modifying of any fic, or pieces of original writings posted on this blog is not allowed. Translations not allowed
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allforthegaymes · 3 months ago
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Neil loves everything about Andrew.
He doesnt care when Allison teases him about it, saying thats what everyone says when theyre in a relationship.
He loves when theyre kissing and Andrew always pauses to smile against his lips. When he snorts at Neil when he dives back in to continue.
He loves the glimpse of Andrews chipped canine tooth from a snow sledding accident. Nicky had been driving the Maserati, Andrew dragging behind it on a sled as they coasted through the parking lot, slick with ice. Before the sled hit a curb hidden by the snow and he’d gotten tossed into a tree.
He loves the way Andrew glares, half pouting, drunkenly at him when he stands in the Columbia kitchen cutting marshmallows up to try and mimic the mini marshmallows Andrew insists on having in his cocoa.
He loves the way Andrew stands in some supermarkets clothing department trying to decide if paying $20 is worth having the pack of spiderman boxers. He loves the way Andrew washes them the second they get home and groans as he rips at least two seams on them after they shrink outrageously small after the wash. He loves the way Andrew stubbornly refuses to stop wearing them anyways.
Neil loves how Andrew leans over the counter in the bathroom, dragging beard dye over his eyebrows to tint them a shade so they can actually be seen. He loves the way Andrews head tilts back with an annoyed groan when they come out too dark and Aaron takes at least 20 pictures of him with dark bushy eyebrows. He loves the way Andrew lets him drag him to the girls dorm so Allison can give him an evil grin and fix them.
He loves the way Andrew refuses to let him light his own cigarettes. The first few times he’d lit his own Andrew would snag it from his mouth for himself, and light Neil a new one himself. Usually he just presses the tips of their cigarettes together, the lit cherry of his own lighting Neils. Or Neil will just pass his lighter over to Andrew, leaning forward with the cig held between his lips, wobbling slightly from the way hes trying to squash a smile.
He loves the way Andrew has no opinions when it comes to which video game they all play on tuesday and thursday game nights, but is the loudest at insisting which movie plays on friday movie night, arguing with everyone that they have to do the hat method for picking one and insists everyone else is teaming up on him when his doesnt get picked. He loves the way Andrew refuses to let Neil copy his movie choice onto his own piece of paper, even if itd give his choice better odds of being picked out of the hat.
He loves the way Andrew groans and grumbles when theres a heat wave and tells Neil he runs like a furnace, but stays firmly wrapped around Neils back anyways as the fan points directly at them in bed. The connected skin between them slick with sweat that makes Kevin complain about the smell in the room until Andrew points at Kevins stinky gym bag in the corner.
He loves the way Andrew asks him ‘yes or no’ whenever theyre about to do something new. Loves the way ‘yes or no’ slowly evolves into different situations. Texted to him from across a sports gala once theyre pro to ask Neil if he wants to ditch it with him early. Mumbled against his neck when he shows Neil the transfer request to move back onto the same pro team together.
He loves the way Andrew understands when Neil says no, that he wants to finish up talking to a few more coaches around the gala first. When Andrew asks him if he wants to try a new steakhouse and Neil would rather get Thai from down the road and sit in the Mas instead.
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allywthsr · 1 year ago
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WARMING UP | (l.norris)
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summary: you come home from a shopping trip and Lando warms you up
wordcount: 1k words
pairing: landonorris x fem!reader
warnings: none!
notes: Y/N is friends with Charlotte Síne
advent calendar
”Lando? You home?“
You were coming back from a shopping trip with Charlotte, even after Charles and her broke up, you two stayed good friends. And with you living in Monaco, because Lando and you moved here a few years ago, and most of your friends in different countries, you were glad to have a friend near you.
You just came into the hallway and yelled out for Lando, it was freezing in Monaco, and you forgot to put on your gloves, your shoes also weren’t the best ones to keep you warm, you kept looking out for new ones, but you haven’t found the perfect pair yet. With still your bags in your hands you yelled out for Lando one more time. ”Lando?“
He also didn’t answer, you wondered where he could be, so you put the bags on the ground, grabbed your phone out of your purse, and checked his ’Find My‘ status, you two had the location tracker on, on your iPhone, so you could always see where the other was, it wasn’t like you two were stalking the other, mostly you were together anyways, but it was nice to have it when you’re shopping together in a mall and lose the other. Or for a situation like this, when you came home from something and he wasn’t answering, the little picture you set for him appeared close to you and in your building, quickly you removed your shoes and the rest of your winter clothing and went for the hunt of Lando Norris.
First, you checked the living room, no sight of Lando, next you looked into the kitchen, maybe he was making himself a tea or a snack, but no, no Lando. Maybe the bedroom? Nada. You checked both bathrooms but he also wasn’t there, utility room was empty as well, so the only place he could be was his gaming room. You opened the door and saw him sitting on his gaming chair in front of his computer.
”Lan?“, you softly whispered.
He turned around and his eyes lit up, ”Baby! You’re home.“
He got up and walked to you, embracing you in a hug and pressing a few kisses to your lips.
”Yes, I’ve been looking for you in the whole apartment, even yelled out your name and shit.“
”I‘m sorry, I didn’t hear you. I guess my headphones were too loud.“
”It’s fine, are you streaming?“
”No, just playing some games with the guys, I can log off after the round?“
”Mhm, please.“
He kissed your lips once more and put his hands on your cheeks, stroking them, ”Baby, you’re freezing! Imma log off now, do you want to lie down on the bed? I‘m coming to cuddle after I make you a hot chocolate, yeah?“
You nodded and put your head on his chest, breathing in his scent, with one last look in his eyes, you turned around and went to the bedroom. With fresh clothes, that belonged to Lando, and under the warm covers you already warmed up a little, yet you waited for Lando to come and cuddle you, that way you would be warm in no time.
”I got your hot chocolate, even added some marshmallows, why are you so cold?“, he placed the mug next to the bed on the bedside table, opened the blanket, and slipped in next to you, he opened his arms and you cuddled close to him, lying your head on his shoulder. He reached over to the bedside table and gave you the mug with the hot beverage, you carefully took a few sips after you sat up and answered his question.
”I don’t know, I guess I need actual winter shoes and thicker scarfs, maybe gloves too.“
”Baby, I told you multiple times you need to buy more winter clothing.“
”I know, but it’s so expensive and I can’t seem to find something I truly like.“
”If you want, we can go shopping for clothes tomorrow.“
You nodded and cuddled closer to his chest, you could already feel that your hands got warmer and your feet were warming up too. His legs were entangled with yours, and he tried to keep them as close as possible to his own, giving his warmth to you. You drank the rest of your hot chocolate and gave the empty mug back to Lando, so he could put it back on the bedside table.
”But how was your day with Charlotte?“
”It was good, we had a lot of fun, I can show you the stuff we got later or tomorrow, I tried to find new shoes but you know me, I always buy what I don’t need. I need more space in our closet because I bought like five new hoodies.“
”Why do you buy yourself hoodies? You mostly wear mine anyway.“
You let out some air, ”I know, I just like hoodies, what can I say.“
He let out a laugh and cradled you closer, rubbing your arms with his hands to try and get you to warm up quicker.
”Are you warming up?“
”A little.“
He wrapped his arms around your shoulder again and hugged you close while pressing several kisses to your head, making sure you were comfortable. The comfort he was providing made you sleepy, and your eyes started to close more often.
”I hope you know how comfortable you are, Lan.“
”And I hope you know how perfect you fit inside of my arms, love.“
”I will fall asleep in a second, but please don’t leave me, you’re too comfy.“
”I need to change into my sleepwear, but then I am yours for the night.“
He got up and quickly pulled off his sweatpants and T-shirt, exchanging the shirt for a different one and he kept on his boxershort, he went to the bathroom for a pee and then came back to cuddle you.
”Baby, you’re freezing again.“
”Because you were gone.“
”I am here now, let’s sleep yeah? I will not let you go all night.“
With that, he laid down on his side with you in front of him and he pulled you close to his chest, keeping you cuddled to himself all night long.
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seokminfilm · 20 days ago
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still life | lee seokmin
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🪄 pairing, lee seokmin x reader
🪄 warning, non-idol au, artist!reader, boyfriend seokmin, marshmallow fluff, little to no plot, lots of kissing and touching, physical intimacy, seokmin calls reader baby & sweetheart, reader calls seokmin baby, slightly suggestive, blonde hair dokyeom, he is a flat out tease, seokmin soft hours
🪄 summary, you're in your own little world, sketching the man of your dreams (who's also very much real, in your own bedroom, and craving your attention).
🪄 author's note, this is going to be so self-indulgent so i'm sorry in advance. ALSO seokmin in that picture???? ummmmmm i'm going insane i fear...anyways enjoy seokmin being a massive flirt!!
🪄 now playing, pain, pinkpantheress
🪄 word count, 810 | for @kstrucknet
"What are you sketching?" Seokmin's voice is warm as he comes up behind you, pressing a kiss to your forehead as you look up at him quickly, shielding your notebook shyly as you huff. "It's not finished just yet, baby."
You had been working at the sketch page for a whole hour now, and Seokmin was starting to get needy─you hadn't said much to him the whole time, and as much as he loved seeing his artist practicing her talent, he wanted you to practice him too. Practice with him.
"I still want to see," His breath brushes over your ear as he presses a kiss behind it, and your face flames with his ministrations, sighing as you open it slowly, watching your boyfriend's dark eyes scan the tan paper.
It may look like a random man to most, but you knew it was your boyfriend. You had tried to capture his likeness even from behind, sketching the muscles in his back and folds of his ear as best you could. You had everything committed to memory, and you had spent almost ten minutes sketching his profile from behind.
Seokmin was beautiful, and you wanted to do your absolute best to capture him on paper. You had erased his pretty nose too many times for you to count until you finally got it right, and you put every amount of love and care into each hair strand you drew.
"That's beautiful, sweetheart. I love it," Seokmin's voice is warm like syrup as he kisses the nape of your neck, hand lovingly caressing your side. It tickles, and you laugh, biting back a sigh as he kisses the same sensitive spot again and again.
"Seokmin, what are you doing?" You ask softly, brain already fogging up from the amount of love he's giving you. He smiles proudly, lips curling away to reveal pretty teeth as he chuckles at you.
"Kissing you." He says like it's the most simplest thing in the world, and it is─only instead of kissing you, he's ruining your workflow and a lot of other things.
"You're not kissing me, Seokmin. I know the differences between all your kisses." You say, and Seokmin smiles, eyes locking with yours.
"You know the differences?" Seokmin's voice has a playful challenge behind it, and he leans on the countertop, hand covering part of his face as just his half-lidded eyes show, looking up at you as a peak of his blonde hair shows from under his red hoodie.
"Y-yes." You pause, nervous and now incredibly excited with how Seokmin's staring at you.
"You have the soft, 'I love you kisses', the quick, 'Goodbye' kisses, the longing 'Please don't go' kisses, the quick 'Thank you' and the teasing 'You're such a goofball' kisses." You rush through the kisses quickly, causing Seokmin to chuckle at you.
"These ones─" You say, fingertips brushing over the sensitive spot on the back of your neck as you look away from him. "These ones are the 'I want you' kisses. And not the sweet, wholesome 'I want you' ones."
Seokmin stands up straight again, teasing his full height as he looks to you. Your face is flushed from the implications of your former sentence, and Seokmin knows you're thinking about what he's thinking about.
"The other 'I want you' kisses." You add after a moment of silence, and Seokmin presses another one of those 'I want you' kisses to your lips, confirming your observation.
"My sweetheart is such a smart cookie," Seokmin's voice is low, chocolate eyes sweet as he searches yours.
You sigh in defeat, letting Seokmin turn you around on the stool and put his hands on your hips. His lips connect with yours again, and you hum against his mouth, too lazy to try to put up a fight or argument as to why you didn't want this.
"You're not stopping me," Seokmin's voice is a whisper, teasing your lips as he's just centimeters away from kissing you again. You sigh at him, hearing his soft giggle at your surrender as you shrug.
"I'm not." You reassure him, and he tucks a piece of hair behind your ear, fingers feather-light under your jaw as he tilts it up to look at him.
"I love you." His voice was quiet, so soft you almost didn't hear it, but it made your heart flutter just the same. His hair was soft in your hands as you grabbed at it weakly, letting him kiss you again as you felt your body move in time with his. When you opened your eyes again, Seokmin was looking at you, eyelashes long and curling against his cheeks.
"And I love you." You reply softly, kissed into defeat as Seokmin's lips curve into the prettiest smile you've ever seen.
A smile you couldn't even try to replicate in your still-life sketches.
98 notes · View notes
enemiestolovershoe · 20 days ago
Note
can i request a Matt x bsf!reader fic where the triplets and her and maybe a few friends do a roadtrip to do a camping trip or something and when it‘s chris turn to drive matt gets on the backseat beside you. you both get flirty pretty quickly. then at the bonfire they get a little touchy and then fuck in the tent as everyone got to sleep (or so they think) and the next morning chris and nick tease the shit out of them? :)
Tent of Temptation
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Matt Sturniolo x bsf!reader
Summary: Y/N and Matt share a tense, intimate camping trip where unspoken feelings lead to a heated night in the tent, changing their relationship forever.
Words: 8k
Warnings. SMUT 18+, flirting, filth, use of yn, not proofread, lmk if you find more
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The sun was just beginning to dip below the horizon as you pulled into the familiar driveway of the Sturniolo triplets’ house. Your car door creaked as you pushed it open, the cool evening air brushing against your skin. You didn’t bother knocking; after all, this place was practically a second home.
"Yo, look who it is!" Matt’s voice called from the kitchen the moment you stepped inside. He leaned casually against the counter, arms crossed and an unmistakable smirk playing on his lips. "Took you long enough. What, were you deciding which pair of leggings would impress me the most?"
You rolled your eyes but couldn’t hide the smile tugging at your lips. "Not everything’s about you, Matt."
"Sure, sure," he teased, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "But for the record, you chose right."
"Matt, leave her alone," Nick said, walking in from the living room with a grin. "You’re scaring her off before she even sits down."
Chris was the last to appear, a bowl of popcorn in hand. "Seriously, Matt, chill. She hasn’t even told us why she’s here yet."
"Maybe she missed me," Matt quipped, still watching you.
"Or maybe I’m bored out of my mind," you shot back, making your way to the couch and plopping down. "Speaking of which, we need to talk about that."
Nick raised a brow. "Bored? You’re hanging out with us. Problem solved."
"No, I mean, like... bored, bored," you emphasized, throwing a glance around the room. "We do the same thing every time I’m here—movies, snacks."
"Hey, the last one’s a highlight," Matt interrupted with a grin, earning himself a playful glare from you.
"Let her finish," Chris said, sitting beside you.
You sighed dramatically, throwing your arms out. "I want to do something different! Something fun, something spontaneous! Like... like a road trip!"
"A road trip?" Nick repeated, his expression instantly lighting up.
"With camping!" you added quickly. "I’ve always wanted to go to a campsite by a lake—somewhere beautiful, peaceful. Imagine all of us in the middle of nowhere with a bonfire, roasting marshmallows, and just... I don’t know, being outside for a change."
"Say less," Matt said immediately, straightening up. "I’m in."
"Wait, what?" You blinked at him, surprised by his instant enthusiasm.
Nick and Chris exchanged looks before nodding in unison.
"Of course, we’re in," Chris said as if it were obvious.
"It sounds sick," Nick agreed. "Road trips are always a vibe."
"Yeah, and if you’re lucky, maybe you’ll get to sit next to me in the car," Matt added with a wink.
You scoffed. "If I’m lucky? More like unlucky."
"Don’t fight it," he teased, leaning a little closer.
Chris smirked and looked between the two of you. "Are we going to plan or is this just gonna turn into the Matt and Y/N show?"
"Shut up," you and Matt said at the same time, earning laughter from both Nick and Chris.
"So, we’re actually doing this?" Nick asked, his tone laced with excitement.
"Absolutely," you said firmly, already picturing the adventure. "I’ll start looking up campsites."
"And I’ll make sure the cooler’s stocked," Matt added, his gaze lingering on you with a playful intensity.
"Can we at least survive one evening without flirting?" Chris muttered, shaking his head.
"Not a chance," Matt shot back, grinning.
“Today’s Thursday. Let’s go Saturday morning so we have tomorrow to buy tents and groceries,” you suggested, pulling your knees up to your chest as you got comfortable on the couch.
“Saturday works for me,” Chris said, nodding. “Gives us enough time to figure everything out.”
“Tents? Groceries?” Matt’s brows furrowed in mock confusion as he leaned against the armrest of the couch, dangerously close to your shoulder. “I thought we were just winging it—grab some sleeping bags, raid the snack drawer, and call it good.”
“Yeah, because that worked so well last time we tried to plan something,” Nick shot back, rolling his eyes.
“Last time was fine!” Matt argued, throwing up his hands.
“You forgot the flashlight, the bug spray, and the actual sleeping bags,” Nick reminded him with a laugh.
Chris chimed in. “And we ended up eating cold granola bars for dinner because you didn’t think we’d need to bring food.”
“Okay, first of all,” Matt started, holding up a finger, “granola bars are a perfectly acceptable meal. And second—”
“Second, you’re not in charge of anything this time,” you cut him off with a grin.
Matt looked at you, feigning offense. “You wound me, Y/N.”
“You’ll live,” you teased.
“Barely,” he shot back dramatically, his gaze lingering on you for a second too long before he smirked. “But only if you promise to help me with the tent.”
“I’ll think about it,” you said with a shrug, trying to ignore the way your cheeks warmed under his playful stare.
Chris clapped his hands, pulling everyone’s attention. “Okay, so tents, groceries, a cooler for drinks, and a portable grill for cooking—what else?”
“Bug spray,” Nick said immediately.
“Flashlights,” Chris added.
“A playlist,” Matt said, leaning back with a satisfied grin.
Nick snorted. “Of course, that’s where your priorities are.”
“Hey, road trips need vibes,” Matt argued, shrugging. “I’ll even make it. Trust me, it’ll be fire.”
“That’s debatable,” you teased.
“Bet,” Matt said, raising a brow at you. “If it’s not the best playlist you’ve ever heard, you can... I don’t know, make me cook all the meals.”
“You cook?” you asked, skeptical.
He grinned. “For you? Sure.”
Chris groaned. “God, get a room already.”
“I’m literally sitting right here,” you said, throwing a pillow at him.
“So, we’re all set on supplies?” Nick interjected, trying to keep things on track.
“Not quite,” you said, a new idea forming in your head. “What if we invited more people? Like Sam and Colby?”
“Sam and Colby?” Chris repeated, his interest piqued.
“Yeah,” you said. “They’re always talking about how much they love the outdoors. Plus, they’d bring good energy.”
“And chaos,” Matt muttered, though he didn’t sound opposed.
“Come on, Matt,” you said with a grin. “You love chaos.”
“Fair point,” he admitted. “Who else?”
“Jake, Tara, Johnnie, and Carrington,” you added. “The more, the merrier, right?”
Nick looked thoughtful. “That could actually be fun. It’d feel like a whole squad trip.”
Chris nodded in agreement. “I like it. Plus, the more people we have, the less work for everyone. Sam and Colby can bring some of their ghost-hunting gear, too—imagine the stories we’d get around the fire.”
“Leave it to Chris to make camping spooky,” Matt said, shaking his head. “But fine, I’m in.”
“Of course, you’re in,” Nick said, smirking. “You’d go wherever Y/N goes.”
Matt didn’t miss a beat. “And you wouldn’t?”
Nick opened his mouth to argue but decided against it, raising his hands in surrender.
You laughed, shaking your head. “Okay, so we’ll text everyone tonight and see who’s in. Sound good?”
“Perfect,” Chris said.
“Better than perfect,” Matt added, leaning a little closer. “Especially since it means I get to spend a whole weekend annoying you.”
“Or I could just leave you at the campsite,” you quipped.
“You wouldn’t dare,” he said, his grin widening.
“You wanna bet?”
“Bet,” he said, his tone challenging but playful.
Chris groaned. “This is gonna be the longest road trip of my life.”
After hours of tossing around ideas and playful banter, the four of you decided to call it a night. The excitement of the impromptu camping trip had everyone buzzing, but you all knew you’d need the next day to prep.
You stretched your arms above your head and let out a yawn as Chris turned off the TV. “I’ll just crash here tonight,” you said, glancing at Nick. “That way, we can hit Target first thing tomorrow morning.”
Nick nodded, already standing up and stretching. “Makes sense. You know the spare blankets are in the hall closet.”
“Don’t even think about it,” you replied, narrowing your eyes. “I’m stealing your bed tonight. Your floor is all yours.”
Nick laughed. “Oh, is that how this works now?”
“Yes,” you said with a smug grin, crossing your arms.
“Fine, whatever,” Nick said with a dramatic sigh, heading toward the stairs. “I’ll sleep on the floor like the peasant I am. You’re lucky you’re my best friend.”
Chris smirked, grabbing the empty popcorn bowl. “If you two are done squabbling, I’m going to bed.”
Matt, who had been uncharacteristically quiet for the past few minutes, finally spoke up as he leaned against the doorway. “You know, if you wanted a real bed, Y/N, you could’ve just asked to share mine.” His grin was sly, and his eyes gleamed with mischief.
Your eyes narrowed at him, though you couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped. “In your dreams, Matty.”
“Every night,” Matt shot back, his tone dripping with playfulness.
“Okay, goodnight!” you said loudly, cutting off whatever comment was about to leave his mouth.
As Nick led you to his room, he glanced over his shoulder and smirked. “So… Matt, huh?”
You groaned. “What now?”
“You know what,” he said, stepping aside to let you into his room. “He’s been glued to you all night.”
You rolled your eyes, grabbing one of Nick’s hoodies from the back of his chair and pulling it over your head. “Matt’s always like that. He lives to annoy me.”
“Not like that,” Nick said, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. “You seriously didn’t notice how flirty he was tonight?”
“Flirty?” you repeated, pausing mid-motion as you sat on the edge of his bed. “Matt? With me?”
Nick nodded, his expression serious but amused. “Like, extra flirty. He couldn’t stop staring at you. And the comments? Come on.”
You frowned, pulling your knees to your chest. “I don’t know… That’s just Matt being Matt, right? He teases everyone.”
“Yeah, but not like that,” Nick said. “Trust me, I’ve seen him flirt with other people, and this was different. He’s never that... persistent.”
You groaned again, burying your face in your hands. “I don’t know, Nick. Maybe he’s just messing with me.”
Nick chuckled. “If he is, he’s committing to the bit. And for the record, I don’t think he’s just messing with you.”
You peeked at him through your fingers, your voice muffled. “Why does this feel like high school all over again?”
Nick shrugged, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Because Matt has the emotional range of a teenager when it comes to you?”
You threw a pillow at him, your face burning. “Shut up.”
He laughed, dodging the pillow with ease. “I’m just saying, don’t be surprised if this trip gets... interesting.”
“Define ‘interesting,’” you said, narrowing your eyes.
“Let’s just say I wouldn’t be shocked if Matt tries to ‘accidentally’ share a tent with you,” Nick said, his grin widening.
“Absolutely not,” you said firmly, though the thought made your stomach flip in a way you couldn’t quite understand.
“Whatever you say,” Nick said, moving to grab a spare blanket from the closet. “But if he does, you owe me twenty bucks.”
“You’re so annoying,” you muttered, burying your face in the blanket as Nick laughed.
As the two of you settled in for the night, you couldn’t help but replay the evening’s interactions in your mind. Matt’s playful comments, the way his eyes lingered a little longer than usual—it all made your head spin.
You didn’t have a clue what had gotten into him, but Nick’s words stayed with you as you drifted off to sleep.
The smell of coffee brewing filled the Sturniolo kitchen as you stood by the stove, flipping pancakes onto a plate. The clock on the microwave read 8:12 AM, and the house was still quiet, save for the occasional creak of the old floors. You figured the boys deserved a little extra sleep before the chaos of the day began, so you’d taken it upon yourself to make breakfast.
By the time the bacon was sizzling, you heard the faint shuffle of footsteps behind you. Turning around, you saw Chris rubbing his eyes as he trudged into the kitchen.
“Good morning, Chef Y/N,” he mumbled, sitting at the island and resting his chin on his hand. “What’s all this?”
“Figured I’d make breakfast,” you said, sliding a plate in front of him. “Gotta fuel up for Target.”
Chris perked up, grabbing a fork. “You’re the best, you know that?”
“I do,” you teased, turning back to the stove.
One by one, Nick and Matt stumbled into the kitchen, their messy hair and half-open eyes telling you they were still waking up.
“Pancakes?!” Nick exclaimed, immediately reaching for a plate.
“Don’t touch mine,” Matt warned, sitting across from Chris and shooting a grin your way. “You really outdid yourself, Y/N. If you keep this up, I might have to keep you around permanently.”
You raised an eyebrow. “Keep me around? You’re lucky I haven’t left yet.”
Matt smirked, leaning back in his chair. “You’d miss me too much.”
Chris rolled his eyes. “Can you two not start flirting before 9 AM?”
Nick snorted, taking a big bite of his pancake. “Flirting? They’ve been doing this since yesterday. It’s like a bad sitcom.”
“Don’t encourage them,” Chris added with a groan.
“I’m sitting right here,” you said, placing the last of the bacon on a plate. “And for the record, Matt’s not my type.”
“Wow,” Matt said, clutching his chest dramatically. “That one hurt, Y/N.”
“You’ll survive,” you said with a smirk.
Once everyone was settled at the table, Chris cleared his throat. “By the way, I texted with Sam and Colby this morning. They’re in for the trip.”
You grinned. “Perfect. I’ll text Tara, Jake, Johnnie, and Carrington.”
Nick gave you a thumbs up as he stuffed his face with bacon, and Matt raised an eyebrow. “So, it’s gonna be a full-on party then?”
“Basically,” you said, pulling out your phone. “More people, more fun.”
It didn’t take long for your friends to respond. Tara was especially enthusiastic, sending a string of emojis in her reply, while Jake kept it simple with a thumbs-up. Johnnie and Carrington quickly followed with texts that said they wouldn’t miss it for the world.
“Okay,” you said, setting your phone down. “Everyone’s in.”
Two hours later, after cleaning up and getting ready, the four of you piled into Matt’s car. Chris took the driver’s seat, Matt claimed the front passenger side, and you were sandwiched in the back with Nick.
“You know, I could drive,” Matt said as Chris pulled out of the driveway.
Chris shot him a look. “You don’t trust me?”
“Not even a little,” Matt replied, grinning.
“Good,” Chris said with a smirk. “It’s mutual.”
The ride to Target was filled with music and bickering, mostly between Nick and Matt. By the time you arrived, you were more than ready to stretch your legs and get shopping.
“Okay,” you said as the four of you stood near the entrance. “We should probably split up. Matt and I can grab the camping equipment, and you two can handle the food.”
“Why do you get Matt?” Nick asked, crossing his arms.
“Because she can’t resist me,” Matt quipped, earning himself a glare from Nick.
“You’re insufferable,” you muttered, grabbing Matt by the arm and dragging him toward the outdoor section.
“You love it,” he replied, a smug grin on his face.
The two of you walked through the aisles, pausing at the camping section. Matt immediately gravitated toward the tents, running his hand over one of the packages. “So, what are we thinking? Something roomy?”
“Something functional,” you corrected, scanning the options.
Matt picked up a box with a picture of a two-person tent on the front. “This one’s perfect—for you and me.”
You laughed, shaking your head. “Yeah, no.”
“What? It makes sense,” he said, holding up the box. “We’d only need one tent for the both of us. Saves money, saves space—”
“And puts me in a nightmare,” you interrupted, grabbing a different box. “We’re getting four double tents. One for each.”
Matt sighed dramatically, placing the box back on the shelf. “Fine. But when you get scared in the middle of the night and come running to my tent, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
You rolled your eyes, tossing a box into the cart. “You wish.”
“I do,” he replied smoothly, his smirk widening.
You ignored him and moved down the aisle to grab a few sleeping bags, though you could feel his gaze following you.
“You know,” Matt said as he picked up a lantern, “this whole trip would be way less fun without me.”
“You keep telling yourself that,” you said, trying to hide your smile.
By the time the two of you finished gathering camping supplies, you had a cart full of tents, sleeping bags, lanterns, and a portable stove. You met back up with Chris and Nick at the front of the store, their cart overflowing with snacks and groceries.
“Did you buy the entire snack aisle?” Matt asked, eyeing their cart.
“Don’t act like you’re not impressed,” Nick shot back, grinning.
Chris shrugged. “We like to be prepared.”
“Whatever,” you said, waving them off. “Let’s just check out and get this stuff loaded up.”
Saturday morning started early with alarms blaring at 6 AM. The house buzzed with energy as you and the triplets prepared for the road trip. Bags were double-checked, coolers filled, and snacks packed into the already-loaded Sturniolo van. By 8 AM sharp, you were on the road, and the excitement was palpable.
Matt took the first driving shift, with Chris riding shotgun. As usual, you sat in the middle row with Nick. But before pulling out of the driveway, Matt turned around in his seat, catching your eye.
“Y/N, if you want to switch spots with Nick, I’d be happy to have you closer,” he said with a wink.
Nick groaned. “Could you not?”
“Just offering,” Matt said, smirking as he started the van.
You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the smile creeping onto your face.
By the time Matt pulled into the first stop around 10:15 AM, you were all more than ready to stretch your legs.
“Alright, pit stop,” Matt announced, turning off the engine. “Get whatever you need, but don’t take forever. We’ve got places to be.”
“Translation: Matt wants to rush so he can flirt with Y/N some more,” Chris muttered, earning a laugh from Nick.
“Jealousy isn’t a good look on you, Chris,” Matt shot back, opening his door.
Everyone piled out of the van, and you immediately headed toward the convenience store to grab a drink and find the bathroom. As you browsed the drink cooler, you spotted Tara, Jake, Johnnie, and Carrington walking in.
“Look who decided to show up,” you teased as Tara ran up to hug you.
“Traffic was a nightmare,” Jake said, looking exasperated.
Johnnie grinned. “But we’re here now, and that’s all that matters.”
“Ready to rough it?” Carrington asked, grabbing a water bottle.
“More than ready,” you replied. “Let’s go outside before the guys start calling us.”
By the time you all regrouped at the parking lot, the energy was electric. Everyone was buzzing about the trip, and Tara was already planning photo ops for Instagram.
Matt leaned against the van, waiting for you with his signature smirk. “Took you long enough. Miss me?”
“Desperately,” you said dryly, brushing past him to put your drink in the cup holder.
As everyone settled back into their cars, Matt and Chris swapped places. Chris took over driving duties, with Nick calling shotgun this time. Matt, however, was quick to make his move, sliding into the backseat.
“Looks like it’s just us back here,” Matt said, buckling his seatbelt and giving you a playful nudge.
You sighed, trying to suppress a smile. “You could’ve stayed in the front.”
“And miss out on this quality time? No way,” he replied, leaning back and stretching his legs slightly. His knee brushed against yours, but he didn’t move away.
As the van pulled out of the rest stop, Matt leaned closer, his voice low so the others wouldn’t hear. “You know, this seat’s way more comfortable with you next to me.”
You turned to look at him, raising an eyebrow. “What’s your deal today? Did you eat extra sugar or something?”
“Can’t a guy just enjoy spending time with his favorite person?” he teased, his gaze flickering to yours.
“Favorite person?” you echoed, trying not to laugh. “Pretty sure that title belongs to Nick.”
Matt scoffed. “Nick wishes.”
“Hey!” Nick called from the front seat, craning his neck to look back. “What’re you two whispering about?”
“Nothing you need to worry about,” Matt replied smoothly, giving Nick a dismissive wave.
Chris glanced in the rearview mirror, clearly unimpressed. “Matt, if you keep this up, I’m kicking you out of the van.”
“Good luck finding someone else to charm Y/N,” Matt quipped, leaning back with a satisfied grin.
You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t deny the warmth creeping into your cheeks. For the next two hours, Matt kept up his antics, finding every excuse to lean closer or make some offhand comment that had you alternating between laughing and swatting him away.
By the time the van rolled into the campsite at 12:00 PM, you were equal parts annoyed and amused. As you stepped out and stretched, the others arrived in their cars, honking and waving.
The adventure was officially underway.
The group got to work setting up the tents, the campsite buzzing with activity as everyone figured out where to set up. Matt wasted no time staking out the spot directly next to yours.
“Dibs on this spot,” he announced loudly, dropping his bag dramatically beside your tent.
You raised an eyebrow. “You’re awfully territorial for someone who just spent two hours driving.”
“Gotta keep an eye on you,” he said with a grin. “Make sure you don’t wander off and get lost.”
Nick rolled his eyes, setting up his tent on your other side. “More like he’s worried about someone else staking their tent here first.”
Chris, unbothered, pitched his tent next to Nick’s. “Yeah, because everyone’s just dying to camp next to Y/N.”
“Excuse me,” you said, feigning offense. “I’m an excellent tent neighbor.”
Matt leaned closer, his voice dropping to a mock whisper. “Don’t listen to them. I think you’re perfect.”
You groaned, trying to ignore the way your cheeks heated. “Focus on your tent before you end up sleeping under the stars.”
Sam and Colby were already laughing as they unrolled their shared tent on the other side of the campsite, while Tara, Jake, Johnnie, and Carrington wrestled with the poles of their massive four-person tent.
“This is like one of those team-building exercises,” Carrington joked, holding one end of the tent. “Except nobody knows what they’re doing.”
“Speak for yourself,” Jake shot back. “I’m practically a professional.”
Tara snorted. “Professional at what? Tangling ropes?”
Despite the banter, the tents slowly started taking shape, and once yours was done, you decided to take a break. The pull of the lake a little ways off was too strong to resist, and you headed there alone, enjoying the quiet as the others continued setting up.
The lake was stunning, its surface shimmering under the midday sun. You sat down on the grassy shore, taking a deep breath. As peaceful as it was, you couldn’t shake the strange knot in your stomach.
“Hey,” a familiar voice called out, startling you. You turned to see Matt walking toward you, his expression soft but curious. “What’s wrong, Y/N?”
“Nothing,” you said quickly, though you weren’t convincing anyone, least of all Matt.
He sat down beside you on the ground, his knee brushing yours. “Come on. You don’t wander off like this unless something’s on your mind.”
You hesitated, looking out at the water. “I… I don’t know what’s going on, Matt.”
“What do you mean?” His brow furrowed as he leaned in slightly.
You sighed, struggling to find the words. “You flirting with me, Matt. You’ve never done that before, and we’ve been friends since kindergarten. But these past few weeks… it’s like you’ve flipped a switch or something.”
Matt stared at you for a moment, his mouth opening as if to speak, but no words came out. Finally, he let out a frustrated laugh, running a hand through his hair. “I… I… Fuck, can I just show you?”
You blinked at him, taken aback by his sudden intensity. “Show me?”
“Do you trust me?” he asked softly, his eyes meeting yours.
You hesitated for only a moment before nodding.
Matt didn’t wait for any more confirmation. He leaned in, his hand brushing against your cheek as his lips met yours. The kiss was tentative at first, almost testing the waters. You froze for a second, surprised, but the warmth of his touch and the sincerity behind it melted your hesitation.
Before long, you kissed him back, the tentative nature of it quickly giving way to something more urgent. Matt’s hand slid to the back of your neck, pulling you closer as his other hand rested on the ground beside you for support.
The world around you seemed to fade until the sound of someone clearing their throat behind you brought you both crashing back to reality.
You broke apart, whipping your head around to see Tara standing there, arms crossed and an amused smirk plastered on her face.
“I just wanted to let you guys know that lunch is ready,” she said, her tone teasing. “But I guess you were about to have your own lunch if I hadn’t caught you.”
Your cheeks burned as Matt groaned, dropping his head into his hands. “Tara…”
“Relax,” she said, waving a hand. “I’m not going to say anything.”
“Please don’t,” Matt said quickly, looking up at her. “Not yet.”
You nodded, your voice small. “Yes, please, Tara.”
Tara grinned and stepped forward, pulling you into a quick hug. “Of course, babes. Your secret’s safe with me.”
She shot Matt a knowing look before turning on her heel and walking back toward the campsite, leaving the two of you in stunned silence.
Matt ran a hand through his hair and let out a small sigh as he stood, brushing dirt off his shorts. “We’ll talk later, yeah?” he said softly, extending a hand to you.
You hesitated for a second before slipping your hand into his. His grip was firm and steady, and you let him pull you to your feet.
“Yeah,” you replied quietly, your heart still racing from everything that had just happened.
Hand in hand, you started walking back toward the campsite. Neither of you said much, but the silence wasn’t awkward. It felt… natural. His thumb brushed against the back of your hand a few times, and you could feel his warmth even in the cool afternoon breeze.
As the tents came into view, Matt slowed his pace slightly. You followed his lead, only letting go of his hand when you were close enough for the others to potentially see.
The rest of the day passed without much fanfare. Everyone was too busy settling in, unpacking, and making plans for the weekend to notice the lingering looks Matt kept shooting your way—or the way your gaze seemed to find him, no matter where he was.
By the time dinner rolled around, the group was gathered at the makeshift dining area near the firepit. The meal was simple but satisfying, and everyone chatted animatedly about their plans for tomorrow.
“I’m calling dibs on the best fishing spot,” Jake announced, pointing a fork at everyone.
“You don’t even know where the fishing spots are,” Chris countered, rolling his eyes.
“That’s why we’re exploring tomorrow,” Tara chimed in, nudging Jake.
As the conversation flowed, Matt’s shoulder brushed against yours, and you felt him subtly tap your leg with his knee under the table. When you glanced at him, he gave you a small, knowing smile, like you were sharing a secret no one else was privy to.
After dinner, the group moved to the bonfire, the flames crackling and casting warm, flickering light over everyone. The smell of burning wood filled the air as you settled into the circle of camping chairs. Unsurprisingly, Matt plopped down in the seat beside you.
The firelight highlighted the relaxed expression on his face, but you didn’t miss the way he kept stealing glances at you. Every now and then, his hand would brush yours as he adjusted in his seat, or his knee would bump yours as he leaned over to grab something.
“Hey, Y/N, you want a s'more?” Matt asked suddenly, holding out the makings of one.
You smiled. “Sure, thanks.”
He handed it to you, his fingers lingering just a little too long on yours. Chris, sitting across the fire, narrowed his eyes suspiciously but said nothing, instead turning his attention back to Sam and Colby, who were deep in conversation about tomorrow’s hike.
As the night wore on, one by one, people began calling it a night.
“I’m wiped,” Nick announced, stretching and yawning. “See you all in the morning.”
“Same,” Tara agreed, standing up and brushing off her shorts. “Don’t stay up too late, you two,” she added with a knowing smirk in your direction.
Once the others had all retreated to their tents, it was just you and Matt left by the fire. The crackling flames filled the silence as you both stared into the embers, the unspoken tension from earlier hanging between you.
“So,” Matt said after a moment, his voice quiet but steady. “About earlier…”
You glanced at him, your stomach flipping at the serious look in his eyes. “Yeah?”
He shifted slightly in his chair, leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees. “I know I kind of blindsided you with… all of that. I didn’t mean to freak you out.”
“You didn’t freak me out,” you said quickly, though your voice came out softer than you intended. “I was just… surprised, I guess.”
Matt nodded slowly, his gaze flickering between your eyes and the fire. “I’ve been wanting to say something for a while now, but I didn’t know how. And then, today, it just felt like… if I didn’t do something, I was gonna lose my mind.”
You swallowed hard, your heart pounding in your chest. “Say something like what?”
He exhaled, running a hand through his hair. “Like… I like you, Y/N. More than a friend. More than I probably should. And I know we’ve been friends forever, and I don’t want to mess that up, but I can’t keep pretending I don’t feel this way.”
His words hung in the air, heavy and raw. You felt a lump form in your throat as you tried to process what he was saying.
“Matt…” you started, your voice trailing off as you struggled to find the right words.
“It’s okay if you don’t feel the same,” he said quickly, his voice laced with vulnerability. “I just… I needed you to know.”
You hesitated for only a moment before the words tumbled out of your mouth. “I like you too, Matt.”
Matt froze, his eyes widening slightly as he processed what you said. Slowly, a smile broke across his face, one of those genuine, heart-stopping smiles that made your chest tighten.
“You do?” he asked softly, like he needed to hear it again to believe it.
You nodded, biting your lip to keep from smiling too much. “Yeah, I do. And… I think I have for a while.”
Matt let out a breathy laugh, shaking his head. “God, you have no idea how happy that makes me.”
Before you could respond, he leaned in again, his lips finding yours with a newfound confidence. This time, the kiss was less tentative, more assured. His hand cupped your face, his thumb brushing against your cheek as he pulled you closer.
You melted into him, the warmth of the fire and the feel of his lips making your head spin. Time seemed to slow as the kiss deepened, his other hand resting lightly on your thigh.
You broke apart briefly, both of you catching your breath. Matt rested his forehead against yours, his voice low and slightly raspy. “I’ve wanted to do that for so long.”
You smiled, your fingers lightly tracing the back of his neck. “So have I.”
The fire crackled softly, the world around you fading away again as his lips met yours once more. This time, the kiss grew more heated, his hands sliding down to your waist as you leaned closer into him.
“Matt,” you whispered against his lips, your voice barely audible.
He pulled back just enough to meet your eyes, his gaze filled with both concern and desire. “Yeah?”
“I need you,” you said softly, your cheeks flushing at your own boldness.
Matt’s breath hitched, his eyes searching yours for a moment. “You sure?”
You nodded, your voice steady this time. “Yeah. 100%.”
His lips curved into a small smile before he pressed them to yours again, this time with more urgency. Without breaking the kiss, he stood, pulling you gently to your feet.
“Let’s go,” he murmured, his hand intertwining with yours as he led you toward your tent.
As soon as the zipper of your tent was sealed, Matt turned to you, his eyes scanning your face like he couldn’t believe this was happening. He didn’t waste a second before his lips were on yours again, the kiss filled with a mix of hunger and tenderness.
Your hands instinctively found their way to his hair, tugging gently as he deepened the kiss. His hands rested on your waist, fingers toying with the hem of your sweatshirt as if silently asking for permission.
You pulled back just enough to catch your breath, your forehead resting against his. “You’re not wasting any time, are you?” you teased, your voice breathless.
Matt chuckled softly, his lips brushing against yours as he spoke. “Can you blame me? I’ve been dreaming about this moment for years.”
His words sent a shiver down your spine, and without a second thought, you reached for the hem of your sweatshirt, tugging it over your head in one swift motion. Left in just your tank top and shorts, you felt a slight rush of nerves, but the way Matt’s eyes darkened with admiration erased any insecurity.
“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper as his hands slid up your sides, resting just below your ribs.
Your cheeks burned at his words, but you didn’t have time to respond before his lips were back on yours, more insistent this time. You tugged at the hem of his shirt, signaling him to take it off.
“Off,” you muttered against his mouth, making him grin.
“Yes, ma’am,” Matt said playfully, pulling back briefly to yank his shirt over his head and toss it aside. His toned chest was on full display, the firelight from outside casting faint shadows that made him look impossibly good.
Your hands immediately found his skin, exploring the warmth of his chest and the faint muscles of his abdomen. He shivered slightly under your touch, his breath hitching as your fingers grazed a particularly sensitive spot.
“Not fair,” he mumbled, his hands slipping under the hem of your tank top. “You’re wearing too much.”
“Then do something about it,” you challenged, a teasing smile playing on your lips.
He grinned, his confidence returning as he slowly lifted your tank top, his fingers brushing against your skin and sending sparks through your body. Once it was off, he tossed it aside and took a moment to look at you, his eyes softening.
“You’re perfect,” he said sincerely, his voice laced with both awe and affection.
You felt your cheeks flush again, but before you could respond, his lips found yours once more. His hands roamed your back, pulling you closer until there was almost no space between you.
The heat between you both was growing, your kisses becoming more passionate as his fingers traced the waistband of your shorts. You mirrored his actions, your hands moving to his waistband, tugging slightly to signal your impatience.
“Someone’s eager,” Matt teased, pulling back just enough to meet your gaze.
“Shut up,” you shot back, though your smile betrayed your playful tone.
Laughing softly, Matt hooked his fingers into the waistband of your shorts, slowly sliding them down. You kicked them off to the side, leaving you in just your underwear. He quickly followed suit, shedding his own shorts and leaving the both of you equally vulnerable.
The air inside the tent felt electric, the weight of what was about to happen hanging in the space between you.
“Are you really sure about this?” Matt’s voice was low, almost a whisper, as his eyes searched yours for any sign of hesitation. The flickering firelight from outside the tent cast soft shadows across his face, highlighting the nervous edge in his expression.
You nodded, your breath catching as his hands moved slowly, deliberately, brushing against your skin as they slid behind your back. His fingers trembled slightly as they found the clasp of your bra, pausing for just a moment. It was as if he was giving you one last chance to change your mind, his touch tentative yet electrifying.
“I am,” you whispered, your voice steady despite the wild beating of your heart.
Matt let out a quiet exhale, leaning in closer as he carefully undid the clasp, his lips curving into a faint smile.
The moment your bra slipped away, Matt’s hesitation vanished. His hands gently traced your sides before his lips found their way to your chest. He kissed your skin softly at first, then with growing hunger, his mouth closed around your sensitive peak.
A sharp gasp escaped your lips as he sucked gently, his tongue teasing in ways that sent shivers coursing through your body. His hands anchored firmly at your waist, pulling you closer as his mouth explored you with an intensity that left you breathless. Each flick of his tongue and graze of his lips ignited a fire that seemed to consume the space between you.
Completely lost in the moment, your hands began to wander, sliding down to rest against Matt’s hips. Your fingers traced over the waistband of his underwear before moving lower, feeling the heat radiating through the fabric.
You began to rub him gently, eliciting a low, shaky groan from Matt that only spurred you on. His head tilted back slightly, his eyes fluttering shut as he let himself give in to the sensation. The way his breath hitched with every movement of your hand sent a thrill through you, the tension between you growing impossibly thicker with every passing second.
"As much as I’m enjoying this, baby," Matt murmured, his voice low and laced with desire, his lips brushing against your ear. "We’re gonna have to skip the foreplay—and you’ll need to be quiet for me. Can you do that, hmm?"
His words were both a plea and a challenge, the suggestive edge in his tone making your pulse race. "We don’t want the others to hear, yeah?" he added, a teasing smirk playing on his lips as his gaze locked with yours, dark and full of promise.
You quickly nodded, your breath hitching as your hands slid Matt’s boxers down his thighs, exposing him fully. With a deep inhale, you pushed your own underwear off, leaving you both bare—completely vulnerable before each other.
Matt’s gaze roamed over you, his eyes filled with awe and something deeper. “You’re so beautiful, Y/N,” he whispered, his voice barely audible, as if he couldn’t believe his luck.
A soft smile curved your lips as you reached up to touch his face. “You’re not so bad yourself, Matty,” you teased, your tone light but filled with affection.
He leaned down, capturing your lips in a kiss that was both tender and passionate, pulling you closer as if he never wanted to let go. The kiss deepened, filled with unspoken emotions, before Matt gently guided you onto your back. His body hovered over yours, his weight settling just enough to feel the warmth of his skin against yours, as the moment wrapped around you like a cocoon of intimacy.
You both lost yourselves in a heated kiss, your lips moving together with a mix of urgency and tenderness. Matt’s hand trailed down your body, his fingers finding your core with ease. He stroked your slit with deliberate, teasing movements, spreading your arousal.
“You’re so wet for me, baby,” he murmured, his voice husky and filled with desire.
“Just for you, Matty,” you whispered back, your voice breathy and trembling with anticipation.
Matt positioned himself, the tip of him pressing against your entrance. He paused for a moment, his eyes meeting yours, searching for reassurance. When you gave a small nod, he pushed in slowly, drawing a low groan from deep within his chest.
“God, you’re so tight,” he gasped, his voice strained with the effort of holding back.
“So big,” you moaned softly, your hands gripping his shoulders as your body adjusted to him. The stretch was intense but intoxicating, and every sensation seemed to heighten the connection between you.
“Fuck, I wish we were alone right now,” Matt grunted, his voice a mix of frustration and raw desire as he moved inside you, his thrusts slow but deliberate. “I want to hear those little noises you make so bad.”
A quiet whimper escaped your lips, barely audible as you clung to him, your nails grazing his back. “Me too, Matty,” you whispered, your breath hitching as he angled his hips just right. “Needed you so bad.”
His movements faltered slightly, his lips brushing against your ear as he let out a low growl. “When we’re home, I’m not holding back,” he promised, his tone dark and dripping with intent. “I’m going to make you scream my name, over and over again, baby.”
“Yes, please,” you moaned softly, your voice trembling with anticipation as your body melted beneath his.
Matt’s lips found yours again, his kiss hungry and unrelenting. “You drive me insane, you know that?” he muttered against your mouth, his hands gripping your hips as he buried himself deeper. “You’re all I ever think about.”
The confession sent a wave of heat through you, your heart pounding in sync with his movements. “Matty,” you breathed, cupping his face and forcing him to meet your gaze. “You mean everything to me. I don’t think I could ever want anyone else.”
His eyes softened for a moment, the intensity of his feelings shining through as he leaned his forehead against yours. “You have no idea how much I love you,” he murmured, his voice cracking slightly.
Your response was instant, your hands threading through his hair. “Then show me,” you whispered, your voice laced with emotion.
And he did, pouring every unspoken word into each touch, each kiss, and every movement as if the rest of the world didn’t exist.
Your hips moved instinctively, rising to meet his as his rhythm grew relentless, the heat between you building to a fever pitch. His breath was hot against your ear, his voice strained and commanding as he growled, "If you grind into me just like that again, I swear I'll fill you so deep you’ll feel me for days."
The raw need in his tone sent a shiver down your spine, your hands clutching at his shoulders for support. "Yes, Matty," you whimpered, your voice trembling with desperation. "Please, I’m so close... I need you."
He groaned in response, his lips brushing against your jawline, leaving a trail of searing kisses down your neck. “You need me, huh?” he murmured, his pace quickening. “Say it again. Tell me exactly what you need.”
Your body arched into him, unable to resist the magnetic pull of his touch. “I need you to make me cum,” you gasped, your voice breaking as the tension coiled tighter within you. “Please, Matty. I want all of you.”
“God, you’re perfect,” he muttered, his hands gripping your hips as he thrust harder, deeper, the sound of your mingled breaths filling the room like a melody of desire. His voice dropped lower, rough and full of need as he whispered, “You feel so good. You take me so perfectly—every inch of you was made for me.”
The raw passion in his words sent a wave of pleasure rolling through you, your nails digging into his back as your body moved in perfect sync with his. “Matty,” you gasped, your voice trembling as you felt the edge drawing nearer, “I’m going to—”
“Not yet,” he interrupted, his tone commanding yet tender as he slowed his pace just enough to keep you teetering on the brink. “I want to feel you lose control completely when you let go. Hold it for me a little longer, love.”
You whimpered in protest, the ache in your core almost unbearable. “I can’t,” you pleaded, your voice breaking with desperation. “Please, Matty. I need to cum.”
His eyes locked onto yours, dark and intense, as he leaned in to capture your lips in a searing kiss. “Then cum,” he murmured against your mouth, his thrusts growing wild and relentless. “Let go for me now, baby. I’ve got you.”
The words shattered what little control you had left, your release crashing over you like a tidal wave. Your body trembled as he held you close, his own release following moments later, his groan vibrating through your skin as he spilled into you, his name spilling from your lips like a prayer.
For a moment, there was only the sound of your ragged breaths and the warmth of his body enveloping you. His fingers traced lazy circles on your skin as he whispered, “You’re everything I’ve ever wanted and more.”
You smiled softly, your head resting against his chest. “And you, Matty, are everything I didn’t know I needed.”
He chuckled, pressing a tender kiss to your temple. “Good, because I’m never letting you go.”
The world faded away as you lay together, completely undone yet utterly whole in each other’s arms. His hand rested lightly on your waist, his chest rising and falling with every breath. Matt let out a quiet laugh, breaking the comfortable silence.
"Wow... that was just... wow," he said, his voice breathy but full of awe.
You smiled, still trying to catch your breath. "Yeah, we should definitely do that again," you teased, but the words faltered when you heard a loud voice from outside the tent.
"No! You two, go to sleep now," Nick yelled, clearly trying to sound stern, but his voice was thick with amusement. That fucker is trying not to laugh. "You weren’t as quiet as you thought. You can... uh, 'have fun' as much as you want when we’re back home. But not here!"
Your face flushed immediately, and you quickly buried it in Matt’s neck, unable to hide the embarrassment. Matt chuckled, his fingers gently running through your hair, trying to calm you down.
"Guess we're up for some major teasing tomorrow, huh, baby?" Matt whispered in your ear, his voice full of mischief.
You groaned, too embarrassed to even look up, but you could hear the laughter of the others outside. "I swear, I’ll never live this down."
“You’re so in for it when we get home.”
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