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just-some-random-blogger · 2 days ago

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I said I was going to reblog this when I woke up. That was today and now I'm sleepy and about to go to sleep but I REFUSSSE TO DO SO BECAUSE MY GOSSHHH THIS GOD MEEEEE SOMMEEEEEE TYPAAA WAYYYYY HELLO????????? 😫😫😫😫😫😫

Even if it was in a different way, you had a hard time refusing him when he used the same charm tactics as his twin brother.

I cannot put into words how this like... Changed my brain???? Like it's so beautiful and sensible and yah. That part. That would 100% happen if you were dating a twin like hello? Also idk the thought just makes me swoon ))))):

“Reckon we’re past that, hmm? Your problems are our problems, and all.”

JSJDJDJSJJSJSJSJJSHSHSHHSHA HES SO STUPID THIS IS WHY HES MY FAVE BB GIRL ARE YOU SINGLE IM TRYNA GET YOU PREGNANT AYO MY GUY WHAT DO YOU MEANNNNNNN WHEN YOU SAY THIS UR SO SILLY WTFFFFFF IM GIGGLING LIKE I GET PAID TO DO IT

“That’s a big deal.” He hummed, sympathizing with you to make you feel better. “Bloody inconsiderate, if you ask me.” But you weren’t asking him, and somehow his justification of your feelings only made you feel worse. “What? Not allowed to speak my mind?”

HE REALLY SAID SIS LOUDER AND

“If you’d rather, we can forget the elixir and grab dinner instead. I’m not Fred, but I’m pretty damn close.” He gave you a cheeky smile, earning an honest laugh from you.

NASJJSJSBSJJSJSB IM SO SORRY THE GEORGE GIRLIE IN ME WANTS SO GO HELL YEAH LETS MAKE THAT RAT FREDDIE RUE THE DAY HE WAS BORN 😫😈😈😈 HES JUST SO DARLING I LUV HIM HES SO SILLY AND STUPID FUCKKKK

“I was not getting sloshed, I was doing business.” He corrected, defensive over the fact. “S’pose you were hoping I’d take a little longer, yeah? Give you some more time to cozy up with my brother?”

👏THAT👏PART👏 RIP HIM TO SHREDS GEORGE. ANNIHILATE THAT GINGER GIT

“Yeah, right. What else did he fill in for, sweetheart? Anything you think I should know?”

“Yeah, but I bet you would’ve let him, right?”

EXCUSE ME

He grabbed your hand, spinning you back around to face him. He pulled you into him, his athletic build never leaving him even after he stopped playing quidditch.

.... WHAT ABOUT IT

“Bitching and moaning cause I couldn’t be home to take you to dinner… if you were so upset, why didn’t you come to me, princess? Tell me what was wrong?”

❓❓❓❓ DI BALE SANA NANDITO KA???? HELLO

(tr: NEVERMIND IF YOU WERE ACTUALLY HERE. and the pick is let's go stupid/idiot)

You could smell fire whiskey on his breath, feeling his chest heaving with anger against your own. As angry as you were, you couldn’t help but feel a rush of arousal run through you. The slight sneer on his face, the fire in his eyes, and the protective hold he had on you was sending your head spinning with thoughts much less pertinent to the topic at hand.

I fear I may be quaking in my boots... It's not the only thing quaking.

“See, Princess? She’ll always tell me the truth.”

NO CUZZZZ

His grin faded, slowly sinking into a scowl as your disobedience remained clear.

I love icarusing myself WHAT ABOUT IT WEASLEY

HES GOT SUCH A DIRTY MOUTH ON HIMMMMMMM FUCKKKK OFFF

“Doesn’t matter, sweetheart. When I’m done with you, I’ll be the only person you can think of. Surely then you won’t be able to forget who you belong to.”

Raw. Next twin.

“My little whore needs more?”

“Asking a lot from someone you aren’t being very good for.”

Brat tame me then 🙄✋ I dare you also

Silently, he sunk to his knees between your legs, pulling you to the edge of the table by your hips. He didn’t spare a single glance at your face before his tongue connected with your core, the warm wetness of his tongue even more pleasurable than the rough pad of his thumb.

VIOLENTLY SHAKING IM ILLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL

“Oh, god.” You gasped, your legs resting over his shoulders in attempt to stop the constant trembling of the lips. “I’m yours, Fred, fuck!” You exclaimed, a sheen layer of sweat forming over your forehead as the knot in your belly began to tighten. “Only you can make me feel this good. Nobody else.” You whined, your fingers tightening on the locks of hair as you began to tug at the strands. You could feel him smiling against you, happy to finally hear you admit the truth.

UghhhhhhhhhhHHHHHHHHHHHHH SO GOOD NEXT TWIN LMAO HAHAHAHHH

Green-Eyed Monster | F.W.

For the first time ever, Fred Weasley finds himself jealous over the only person in the world he needn’t worry a bit about.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x f!reader

Word count: 8k

Warnings: SMUT 18+, unprotected sex, oral + fingering (f!receiving, (lots of) dirty talk, name calling, praise/degradation, dom/sub dynamic, some nipple play, touch of a breeding kink, possessiveness/jealousy, some toxic themes, established relationship, swearing, drinking, arguing, angst, fluff, sorry if miss any!

first hp fic in a very long time! what better to post than this mess (jealous, possessive, sexy mess). basically pwp—let me know what you think! (Barely edited at all lmao my apologies)

You sat quietly at George’s desk, eyes focused on a piece of parchment as you both tried to break down the recipe George had scribbled down. There was a hiccup, a hitch in the plan of brewing a batch of Euphoria Elixir for the joke shop, and it was pushing back your plans to place them on the shelves this week. After a few hours of quiet deliberation on his lonesome, George decided to seek your help in hopes of speeding up the process.

So, the two of you put your heads together and re-read the ingredient list a million times, wondering how the hell it turned out murky green instead of sunshine-y yellow. The cauldron sat smoldering across the room, a rain cloud above it as the bubbly mixture spilled over the sides. Upon first glance, you had stated the absolute obvious.

“Isn’t that supposed to be a rainbow?” You raised an eyebrow, looking at your brother-in-law as he collapsed in his chair.

“Yes, you git.” George rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest. You shot him a sharp look, warning him to be nice if he wanted your help. You knew George didn’t mean any of the insults—he was simply frustrated and maybe even a little embarrassed that he could not figure it out by himself. “Sorry, Y/N.” He conceded, realizing he came on a bit too strong.

“S’alright.” You assured him, stepping towards the desk where he sat. “Where’s the ingredient list? We’ll start there.” You offered, knowing you would help no matter how poor of a mood he was in. You loved George almost as much as you loved Fred, if you had to compare. Even if it was in a different way, you had a hard time refusing him when he used the same charm tactics as his twin brother.

After spending so many years in a relationship with Fred, it would be obscure for you not to have a bond with the closest person to him. Over the years, he’d surpassed a friend and had grown into your own brother. You were certain that no matter where life took you and Fred, George would always hold a special place in your heart. When the two opened their shop in Diagon Alley, you volunteered most of your free time to help them in any way you could, and whether it was tweaking new products or doing some of the dirty work, you never really minded.

That evening in specific, Fred was off on some ‘official business’, which really just meant meeting with a potential product buyer at The Leaky Cauldron. Last month, George took the burden of doing so, and they decided it was only fair for him to do it this time. Unfortunately for you, as much as you loved supporting them, it did interfere with your evening plans with him. So, sulking and trying your best to swallow it down, you distracted yourself with stocking shelves downstairs to prepare for another busy day ahead.

You were actually near grateful when George emerged from the office, calling out to you in desperation. It gave you a break from the monotonous back and forth, and someone to talk to. If it could not be Fred, you decided George was the next best.

“So, what’d’ya think it could be?” George asked, peeking over the cauldron that was still spitting back at him. He dodged out of the way, trying his best not to get any of the splashback on his new jumper.

“Well, from what you’ve told me, seems like you put all the right stuff in.” You deducted, pursing your lips slightly as you read over the list for what seemed like the millionth time. “Sad as it sounds, I doubt we can save it now, even if we figure out what happened.” You said, recalling your potions knowledge that Snape had relayed over the years.

“Right, but I’d like to know what’s wrong before I try again.” He explained, taking a moment to look over your sad expression. His eyebrows furrowed, his head cocking to the side as he tried to figure out where it was coming from. “What’s got your knickers in a twist?” Your eyes flickered upwards to meet his, your cheeks tinged red from the heat of the room. Your lips dipped into a frown as you shrugged your shoulders, brushing him off so you did not need to explain yourself. “I know you better than that. Come on, now.” He urged, placing his palms flat against the desk as he leaned towards you, a challenging look in his eye.

You narrowed your brows, keeping a stony expression as you met his gaze. “What’s it to you, Weasley?” You shot back, unsure of where your defensive nature was coming from. Perhaps you weren’t willing to discuss your relationship problems with your boyfriend’s twin brother, or maybe it was because you felt foolish for being upset at all.

“Reckon we’re past that, hmm? Your problems are our problems, and all.” He responded, also unsure of why you were being so reserved with your thoughts. Usually, you were an open book, especially with the two of them.

“My problems aren’t your problems, Georgie.” You shook your head, shutting down the ridiculous notion. “Let’s get back to the real problem, yeah?”

“No, I don’t think so.” George disagreed, his concern now over something completely different. “Is it about Fred?” At that, the tips of your ears began to burn and you shifted uncomfortably in your seat. “Ah, I see.” A devious smile crossed his lips.

“It’s not a big deal.” You covered your tracks, tapping the ink-less quill against the worn parchment.

“I have a hard time believing you, considering you just lied to me.”

“Lied is a strong word,” you rolled your eyes, quickly realizing that there would be no escaping the conversation. “I didn’t lie about anything.”

“What’s he done?”

“Nothing!” You exclaimed, a dry laugh leaving your lips. “It’s just… I’m just being dramatic.” And it’s true, you were being dramatic. Well, maybe not fully, but that’s what you were trying to convince yourself of. “I just miss him, I suppose. I know you both have been busy, but I think maybe I underestimated how busy you would actually be.” You continued, knowing it was wrong to confide in his twin brother about your relationship issues. Still, it felt good to get it off your chest, to voice the concern and have someone shoot you down, just so you knew you were being irrational. “This is the third night in a row we’ve canceled our plans. I’ll get over it. It’s no big deal.”

“No—“ you let out a defeated sigh, slumping down in your seat. “I know that, but I was hoping you would tell me I’ve gone mad, instead.”

“Blimey, Y/N, you’re allowed to be upset. We're busy, yeah, but you’re still his girlfriend.” George said, jumping slightly when the rain cloud above the cauldron let out a crack of thunder. “If you’d rather, we can forget the elixir and grab dinner instead. I’m not Fred, but I’m pretty damn close.” He gave you a cheeky smile, earning an honest laugh from you.

“S’alright, Georgie. Thank you, though.” You appreciated his kindness, but you were sure it would only make your predicament even worse, considering Fred’s recently acquired short-fuse when it came to you and George spending so much time together. It was odd for him to be so protective, so jealous of the one person in the world he needn’t worry about, but it seemed as though the new trait was permanent. Perhaps it came from the fact he was also missing you due to your busy schedules, and how it sometimes seemed you and George were most often left at the shop alone.

“You know, I have noticed that lately.” George continued, leaning against the desk as he reminisced over the last few weeks. “Always seems to be us stuck here together.”

“Mhm.” You mumbled, slowly realizing that you weren’t as insane as you previously thought if he was noticing all of the same things. “Let’s just figure this out so I can get home.”

So you did. A grueling hour spent recounting George’s every step in brewing the elixir left the two of you puzzled and even more frustrated. By that point in the night, you were hunched over the long list of his steps you had jotted down so you could (hopefully) discover what he missed.

“I dunno, Georgie.” You sighed. “Seems like you did everything—“ you cut yourself off, leaning closer to the page on the desk as you caught something you hadn’t seen before.

“What?” He asked, his head snapping towards you. “What is it?”

“You said when you let it simmer, it was turquoise.” You said, looking up at him.

“Yeah, so?” He replied, confused why it was such a big deal.

“It’s meant to be blue.” You explained, a grin on your face as you relayed the information to him.

“Turquoise… blue… same thing, innit?” He asked, standing and walking over to you.

“Maybe to you.” You giggled, pointing to the piece of paper where he missed the step. “After you add the shrivelfig, you have to stir it until it changes color.” He walked up behind you, placing one hand on your arm as he leaned over your opposite shoulder. He smelled of butterbeer, likely due to the one he’d been nursing the entire time you sat together. You immediately noticed the warmth of his body, how similar it felt to how Fred touched you, but how drastically different it was all the same.

“Blimey, you’re right!” He exclaimed, his voice still soft so he was not yelling in your ear. “What would I do without you?” He gave your arm a gentle squeeze, leaning closer and pressing the side of his face to yours in a makeshift hug. His hand dropped to your back, lingering there as the conversation continued.

“It’s nothing, really.” You smiled, closing your eyes to enjoy the warmth for a moment. “So now you know. You can do it again, but make sure to stir it until it’s blue. By tomorrow, we’ll have it bottled and on the shelves just like we planned.”

“Our number one girl, saving the day yet again.” He sighed in relief. “I better get to it—“

Before his thought could finish, the door to the office swung open, cutting him short. Your eyes turned upwards, landing on a slightly drunken version of the boyfriend who’d abandoned your evening plans. The gloss of his eyes and the goofy smile on his lips led you to believe so, and the redness on the apples of his cheeks only solidified it. Only his cheeky grin didn’t last too long when he processed the scene in front of him, how close the two of you were, how heavy George’s hand seemed on your back and how rosy your own cheeks were.

Quickly, his jaw tightened, his gaze narrowing as he tried to decipher the whole situation. His nostrils flared ever so slightly, and his arms raised to cross over his chest. Immediately, you knew what you’d be in for; a long, tiresome argument that changed absolutely nothing. Instead of fighting the silent accusations, defending yourself for no real reason at all, you watched him with the same intensity while you awaited a snide comment.

“So what’s all this, then?” Fred asked, his face clearly conveying all of his emotions.

“Helping Georgie make the elixir while you were off getting sloshed at The Leaky Cauldron.” You muttered, noticing George straighten himself up in hopes of avoiding any further damage.

“Blimey, Fred. If you took any longer, I’d imagine you’d have to move in with the lad.” George took your side on the matter. “At least she wouldn’t have to worry about you missing dinner again.” At that, Fred’s eyes cut to you, immediately understanding where the underlying tension was coming from.

“Is that right?” Fred’s voice was no louder than a whisper, all of the pieces clicking together in an instant. “I don’t suppose the two of you had dinner? Let him fill in for me while I was gone?”

“No, we did not.” You snipped, standing as you gathered the ingredients for George’s second attempt at the brew.

“Yeah, right. What else did he fill in for, sweetheart? Anything you think I should know?” At that, your eyes widened and your face turned red. Your entire body felt like it was engulfed in flames, appalled that he would even think such a thing.

“Piss off, Fred.” You muttered, stepping out from behind the desk as tears stung your eyes. George shot you a sympathetic look as you pushed past his brother and out into the stairwell. You trodded down to the main level, swiping fallen tears away from your cheeks as you rushed out the front entrance of the building.

The cool air of the night was nice, especially after spending so long cramped up in the tiny office space, but it was not as freeing as you might have hoped once you heard footsteps following behind you. Without acknowledging him, you pulled your keys from your pocket, hoping that maybe he forgot his own set and you wouldn’t have to deal with his drunken arguments tonight if you got inside before him.

Of course, you knew that was childish and cruel, because despite being upset with him, loving him was the only thing you knew how to do. You unlocked the front door, holding it open with your boot-clad foot as he stumbled his way behind you. As soon as he passed through the doorway, you continued on your journey to ignore him and tossed your keys on the counter.

“Hey,” Fred reached out, his warm hand landing on your arm, stopping you from running any further from him.

“What?” You snapped, immediately regretting the harshness of your tone. He recoiled at the sound, shocked that you spoke to him in such a way. Usually the two of you saw eye to eye on everything, and in your long standing relationship arguing had never been your thing. Until you left school, you were certain the two of you had never been angry at each other, ever.

“What the bloody hell was that about? I leave for a few hours, and the two of you get on like that? Does that happen every time I step out?” You couldn’t help but roll your eyes again, wondering why this became such a problem in the few short months you’d been graduated.

“Merlin, Fred. You’re acting like you caught us in a broom closet.” You tried again to make your way to the bedroom, unwilling to argue a point he knew was blasphemous anyhow. “We were working, not fucking.”

“Yeah, but I bet you would’ve let him, right?” He grabbed your hand, spinning you back around to face him. He pulled you into him, his athletic build never leaving him even after he stopped playing quidditch. “Bitching and moaning cause I couldn’t be home to take you to dinner… if you were so upset, why didn’t you come to me, princess? Tell me what was wrong?” You could smell fire whiskey on his breath, feeling his chest heaving with anger against your own. As angry as you were, you couldn’t help but feel a rush of arousal run through you. The slight sneer on his face, the fire in his eyes, and the protective hold he had on you was sending your head spinning with thoughts much less pertinent to the topic at hand.

“Maybe I would have if you spared me the time of day.” You argued, finding yourself short of breath as you realized just how much he towered over you. “But, as it seems, you’ve been too damn busy to spare me a second glance.”

“Christ, when did you get so needy?” His rebuttal came easy, like he’d been waiting to have this fight for weeks. “Weren’t satisfied at home, so you thought my brother could do it for you?”

“Are you daft?” You hissed, feeling his fingers tighten on your hips. You hated that the feeling made you forget about your troubles, urging you to push the argument to the side and settle it in a better, more pleasurable way. “If that’s what I wanted, you think I’d be up here arguing with you?”

“That depends, sweetheart. Were you planning on getting caught?” He raised an eyebrow, the thud of his heart against his chest letting you know just how worked up he was. There was no way he truly believed you would do that to him, especially after all you had been through together. You wondered if maybe the lack of time spent with each other was getting to him, souring his thoughts because he missed you just as much as you missed him. “We may be identical, Princess, but he could never give you what I can.”

You hated to admit it, but for some strange reason, jealousy looked really good on him.

“What, a headache and a poor mood?” You decided to play his game if he wasn’t willing to listen to reason. If he wanted to fight, you could do it too. “I’m sure he could manage. In fact, he could probably do a hell of a lot more.” That seemed to strike a nerve in him, pushing him over the edge in an instant and changing the entire mood hanging heavy in the room. He no longer wanted to talk, but rather prove a point.

He took a step backwards, never easing his hold as he pushed you towards the kitchen table. He didn’t stop until your ass hit the edge, a mischievous look in his eye replacing the earlier annoyance. He had you locked in place, no intent to back down as he stared down at you over the bridge of his nose. Then, a small smirk turned the corner of his lips, leading you to believe he was also thinking of a much more simple way to solve your problems.

“Maybe you just need a reminder of who you belong to, yeah?” He asked, his voice quieter than it was before. You felt your mouth run dry, your eyes never leaving his as a dull ache between your legs began to pester you.

That would make you feel better, but he had pissed you off enough that you wanted to refuse him the satisfaction.

“Maybe we should get Georgie up here. According to you, he’d be the one to set me straight.” There was a slight venom in your tone letting him know you wouldn’t be letting anything go so easily. A low chuckle shook his shoulders, his eyes gleaming with a sinister look you weren’t sure you’d ever seen from him before that night. He shook his head ever so slightly, playing into you as he reached one arm behind you.

Your heart raced as you awaited a response, wondering if maybe you pushed him too far and crossed a boundary you could not double back on. You didn’t have to wonder long, because without a second thought, he cleared all of the items littering the table with one swift move of his arm. Papers scattered everywhere, floating through the air and landing all over the floor. Broken products and half finished merchandise for the shop tumbled off the edge, falling less than gracefully onto the tile below. Without ever breaking eye contact, he raised an eyebrow, daring you to say it again.

“You think he can fuck you better than I can?” He asked, giving you the opportunity to change your mind.

“Right now? Yeah.” You spat, wondering if he’d ever drop the act and get on with his day. “Seems like all you want to do is get on my nerves.”

“Yeah?” He challenged, his face so close to yours you could feel his breath on your skin. The tip of his nose grazed your own, his normally warm and comforting irises engulfed by his lust-blown pupils. Or perhaps it was anger that gave him the new look—you weren’t quite sure. “You’d rather go home with him at night? Wake up next to him every morning? Is that really what you want, princess?” He taunted, knowing very well that your heart was his, even if he found himself caught up in a few moments of doubt.

Still neglecting to give him any gratification, you nodded your head despite the sickening feeling that washed over you at the thought. As if he called your bluff before you ever said it aloud, he laughed at the certainty in your action, which only seemed to anger you further.

“If that’s the case, seems like I’ve got my work cut out for me tonight.” He responded, brushing the comment off as if it were nothing. If there was one thing Fred couldn’t ever turn down, it was a challenge, and since coming upstairs with you, it was only further proven to him that’s all this was. “Maybe I’ve gotten too comfortable, sweetheart. After so long, you think you’d know that you’re mine, huh?” Before he continued his tyrant, he used his hands on your hips to lift you onto the table with ease. The ache between your legs had grown stronger, more intense and impossible to ignore. You could feel the wetness soaking through your panties, and the thought of his strong arms lifting you so carelessly only made you spiral further. “Maybe I expect too much of you.” He theorized, recognizing the gleam in your eyes because he’d seen it a thousand times before.

He let his hands trail under the hem of your jumper, settling on the button of your jeans as he undid it with ease. You never let your eyes trail from his face, realizing that no matter how upset you were, it could never take away from how much you loved him. He was beautiful, his fiery red hair and the freckles splattered across his cheeks and nose creating a perfect picture. The softness of his complexion and the gentleness hidden deep in his expression assured you that whatever the two of you were doing was nothing more than an act. He knew you were his just as well as you did, but he knew the only way to settle the (admittedly, misguided) fear was to hear you say it aloud.

You helped him pull the fabric from your legs, wrapping your arms around his neck as you lifted your hips from the table. He discarded the clothing on the floor, paying no mind to it as he returned his hands to your bare legs. His eyes searched your face, carefully looking for any sign of discomfort. Instead, he was met with a pleading expression that only seemed to fuel his too large ego even further.

“No matter,” he disregarded his earlier rant, his eyes growing heavy as his hand fell between your legs. His fingertips grazed the thin fabric separating him from your core, a shiver running down his spine as he noticed the arousal that had soaked straight through. “I don’t mind having to show you. Least I’ll get to have my fun too, yeah?” He applied slight pressure to your aching clit, watching to see your reaction. Your eyebrows knitted together, your lips parting slightly as your hips moved forward into his hand, your body betraying your mind and begging him for something more.

At that, a grin encased his face, happy to see that he hadn’t lost his touch, even if your lives were vastly different and ever-changing by the day. He knew exactly how to make you feel good, and he took pride in it.

“See, Princess? She’ll always tell me the truth.” He taunted, his voice quiet as his eyes trailed down to his hand. You swallowed hard, knowing he had you in a stalemate. “Tell me again, who do you think knows how to make you feel good? Who does it best?” He was on a power trip, unwilling to slow down until he heard you admit it. Still, you stood your ground, pressing your lips tightly together so not a single sound could pass through. His grin faded, slowly sinking into a scowl as your disobedience remained clear.

He removed his finger from you, tracing the hem of your panties as he hooked his finger through the side of the fabric resting on your hip. He awaited an answer, giving you the opportunity to change your mind. When you kept your stoicism, he gave one, hard tug on the lacy fabric until it snapped in two. He used his other hand to do it to the opposite side, giving himself easy access to you without hearing a complaint on your end.

“So you don’t care who’s between your legs?” He continued, unrelenting as you stared him down. “Doesn’t matter who, as long as there’s a cock in you? As long as someone’s taking care of your pretty pussy?” Your cheeks flushed, your chest burning as the filthy words washed over you. “Doesn’t matter, sweetheart. When I’m done with you, I’ll be the only person you can think of. Surely then you won’t be able to forget who you belong to.”

His hand connected with your bare cunt, his fingers trailing through your arousal and settling over your clit as he began to trace slow circles into the sensitive area. Your legs trembled at the contact, finally feeling some relief from the nagging sensation that had been taking over.

“Fuck. Fred.” You whispered, giving yourself away immediately. He let out a low hum, pleased with the sound and knowing he was the reason for it. He had you where he wanted you, and now he just had to keep up the pace. You could feel his hardening length against your leg, distracting you completely from the pent up anger and frustration.

“That’s it.” He encouraged, his middle finger sinking inside of you as he let his thumb take over on your clit. “That’s my girl.” He made sure to accentuate the claim, never once letting you forget it. “All you needed was a little help remembering.” Slowly, he pumped his finger into you, keeping time with his thumb as he began to work you towards a climax. “You want to say it for me? Tell me what I already know?” Instead of responding, you let out a whine, your hips bucking forward into his hand. Although it wasn’t what he was looking for, it was just enough for him to keep going.

He curled his fingers as he pumped them into you, begging for a reaction as your hand wrapped around his bicep for support. You felt the tense of his muscles as he worked at you, only pushing you closer to insanity. You were his, undoubtedly and wholeheartedly, and you would be crazy to ever want anyone else.

“Stubborn little thing tonight.” He remarked, his eyes focused on the point in which his hand met with you, never breaking his stare as he watched his fingers disappear into you. “What’s gotten into you?”

“Need more, Freddie.” You replied, your eyes squeezed shut as you felt the pleasure pulsing under your skin. It had been a long time since you felt him this way, and your impatience was quite clear.

“My little whore needs more?” He teased, applying a little more pressure with his thumb. A gasp fell from your lips, sending your upper half leaning forward until your forehead rested against his. “Asking a lot from someone you aren’t being very good for.” He chastised you for your behavior despite being the one that caused the problem in the first place.

“M’sorry, my love. S-so sorry.” You rushed out, his fingers brushing against the sweet spot inside you only he knew how to find.

“That’s not what I want to hear sweetheart, and you know it.” His tone was firm, unrelenting as he continued his torment. You let out a groan of frustration, wishing he’d quicken the pace and give you what you wanted, even though you refused to give in to him.

He leaned forward, closing the gap between your mouths as he grew tired of waiting for the words he wanted to hear. He tasted like the whiskey that had been fuelling his poor mood, sweet and bitter all at once as his tongue grazed your bottom lip. You hated how easy it was for him to turn you into a mess, hated how easy it was for him to make you forget you were angry at all. You pulled him closer to you, holding his arm tightly so he would not pull away. You were stubborn, but despite that, you were showing him everything he wanted to see through your actions alone.

You broke from the kiss as a particularly intense wave of euphoria pulled your stomach. Your forehead continued to rest on his, holding you upright as he continued to give you just enough to keep you satisfied.

“Say it, princess.” His voice was low, raspy and laced with desire as he watched you turn into a mess below him. “Tell me you’re all mine. Tell me I’m the only one who can make you feel like this.” Instead, you connected your mouths again, letting a desperate moan out at the same time. He drank in the sound, his cock throbbing as his hips jutted forward into nothing. He was almost more desperate than you were, which only allowed for you to take him less seriously.

“G-gonna have to try harder than that.” You found a peculiar pleasure in leaving him on edge, giving him a taste of his own medicine as he continued to torture both of you at once. “Show me why I should say it, Freddie. Seems like you’re all t-talk.” You stuttered, tripping over your words as you tried to keep your composure.

He withdrew his hand from you, making you cry out in frustration from the loss of pleasure. Your eyes met his, desperation written all over your face as you protested his actions. Silently, he sunk to his knees between your legs, pulling you to the edge of the table by your hips. He didn’t spare a single glance at your face before his tongue connected with your core, the warm wetness of his tongue even more pleasurable than the rough pad of his thumb.

You laid back on the table, your hands sinking downwards and tangling in the soft locks of hair. Although you were denying him of the statement he wanted to hear, you could not deny that your last argument was wholly untrue. Fred was determined to prove a point, and he was doing it well.

You weren’t far off from an orgasm, his tongue making quick work at pushing you to the edge. The sounds falling from your lips were telling of your current state, and as delirium began to set in, your defenses began to break down.

He suctioned his lips around your clit, adding his fingers to the mix and returning to his earlier pace to torture you further. Every nerve in your body was ablaze with desire, need seeping from every pore as you realized just how badly you needed the release. Sick of the game, you finally broke in fear he would leave you hanging yet again.

Pleased with your confessions, he curled his fingers against your g-spot one last time, generously giving you the very thing you’d been pleading for. In a mess, your entire body tensed as the pleasure took hold. The orgasm washed over you, leaving your heart racing against your chest and your head swirling with filthy thoughts for the boy between your legs. A hum of approval let you know he was more than happy with your performance, and he kept his pace until he felt you relax against the table below you.

Once he knew he’d gotten the most out of you, he rose to his feet, towering over you as you laid below him. In the dim moonlight, you could see your orgasm glistening on his chin, only furthering his cockiness as he ran his tongue over his bottom lip so he did not waste a drop of it.

“Always taste so sweet, princess.” He whispered, using one hand to free himself from his pants and his boxers. “And it’s all for me.” He continued, slipping his shirt from his head. He used it to wipe his face clean before tossing it on the floor to join the growing pile of clothes. With shaky hands, you lifted your upper half from the table and pulled your own jumper over your head. “Isn’t that right?” He stepped toward, settling between your legs as his hands ghosted over your bare thighs.

You let out a whimper, his grip landing on your already sore hips as his eyes raked over your entire frame. Your gaze flickered to his cock, hard and aching for relief as he continued to tease you. His fingers tickled your stomach as he trailed his touch upwards, his palm landing flat against your breast as he gave it a gentle squeeze. He let the pad of his thumb brush over your hardened nipple, sending another wave of pleasure through you.

“Answer me, sweetheart.” He wasn’t playing anymore; he wanted to hear the words, and he was done with your obstinacy. He pinched your nipple between his thumb and forefinger,

“Yes,” you huffed, already forgetting the pleasure from your first climax as a whole new wave of need began to take over. “I’m yours, Fred. All yours.” You reiterated your earlier statement, now willing to do whatever he wanted of you to prove the point.

“Tell me how bad you want it.” He shot you a twisted little smile, almost as if he was getting off just from the thought of you begging for him.

“I need it, baby. Need to feel you, please.” You whined, reaching for his arms and pulling him closer. “Want you so bad, Fred. Been waiting all night for it.” You felt the tip of his cock connect with your cunt, his expression faltering as soon as he felt the wetness.

“God, you make it so hard to be upset with you.” He hissed the words through his teeth, using his hand to guide himself through your folds as he sucked in a sharp breath. He settled himself just over your already sensitive clit, pushing his hips forward ever so slightly to apply pressure to the spot. “Sound so pretty when you’re begging to be fucked.”

Slowly, he let his tip run back through your arousal, settling the head just at your entrance. He pushed himself forward, but just barely. You whimpered as you braced yourself for the feeling, only to be let down when he stopped himself from going any further.

“Fred,” you warned, catching his eye so he could see your desperate face. You hoped that if he did, he would stop being such a tease. “Please fuck me.”

“What was that?” He smirked, turning his head slightly so his ear was closer to you. “Didn’t quite catch it.”

“Fred, stop—“ you cut yourself off, letting out a huff of annoyance. You knew chastising him for his actions would only make him less likely to give in, even if it was incredibly hard to hold it back. “I need you to fuck me.” You repeated, clearer and louder in hopes of swaying his decision. “Can’t wait any longer, baby. Please.”

At that, he pushed forward the rest of the way, sending your entire body raising with goosebumps. The stretch as he filled you was exactly what you craved, and as he reached the hilt, his tip brushed against your g-spot so delicately that it almost made you come undone right then and there. Your eyelids grew heavy with satisfaction, focusing on how full you felt with him inside of you, knowing that he for certain would always be the one for you.

“That good enough for you, Princess? This is what you wanted?” He asked, letting himself rest inside you for a moment. He felt your walls flutter around him, pulling him even further and making it harder for him to resist you.

“Mhm,” you hummed, giving him a tired nod of agreement. You could feel him throbbing inside of, desperate for a release just like you had been moments before, but he was still trying to prove his point.

“Nobody else gets to have you like this, sweetheart. You’re mine.” He whispered, now sober from the alcohol but intoxicated by an even stronger, deadlier force; you. “He couldn’t fuck you like this, and you know it.” As he spoke, he withdrew his hips and slammed them forward into you again. The action stole the breath from your lungs, twisting your stomach with pleasure as your nails scratched over his skin.

He began at a pace, slower than normal but the force behind his movements making your head spin. You moaned quietly, lost within the feeling of being so close to him. He never failed to take your breath away, never failed to amaze you with his every move. You were so in love with him it sometimes felt like there was no room within your heart for anyone or anything else.

“Tell me, Y/N.” He ordered, his stare never wavering as he fucked into you. As much as he wanted to succumb to the sensation of you wrapped around him, he found it hard to push the thoughts of your earlier arguments out of his head. “You think he’d fuck you like this? You think he could make you feel this good?”

“No, Freddie.” You gasped, feeling the strength of his thrusts increase, sending the legs of the table wobbling. His fingers tightened on your hips, likely leaving behind angry red marks that would fade into reminders of him for days to come.

“That’s it, Princess.” He panted, his chest heaving as he tried to resist the pull of pleasure. “Don’t you think, not even for a second, that anyone can give you half of what I can.” You both knew this to be fact; nobody in the entire world could ever compare to him. “And why do you think that is?”

“‘C-cause I’m yours,” you managed to stutter out the response, watching him as the statement washed over. He brought his hand to your thigh, your legs wrapped tightly around you as he pulled you back on him with every thrust. His head fell back on his shoulders, the dim light of the room casting a beautiful hue over his already breathtaking features.

“That’s right,” he grunted, slamming his hips forward again. There was a thin layer of sweat sheen on his chest, the toned muscles of his abdomen flexing every time he moved. The exposed columns of his neck made your mouth water, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed back his own groans of pleasure. “Was that why you were mouthing off? You just needed someone to take care of you? Just needed me to fuck you?”

“God, yes.” You moaned, feeling the pressure in your belly begin to reach a peak.

“You gonna cum for me, sweetheart? All over my cock?” He smiled, looking down at you so he could appreciate the view. “Come on now, making a fucking mess of it.”

“Fuck,” you whimpered, his words hitting you hard and causing the tightening knot in your belly to tense even further.

“That’s my pretty girl. Just like that.” He continued to encourage you, studying your expression as pleasure began to twist it.

It didn’t take much more for you to descend into another orgasm, your entire body quivering as you cried out for him, singing his name like a hymn and he was the god in which you prayed to. Your throat was raw, raspy from the constant string of moans passing your lips. You were tired, almost too fucked out to continue on, but he was having none of it. He didn’t slow his pace as you came down from the high, instead speeding up and ensuring that he pulled your entire body down on him as he fucked into you.

“Freddie, please.” You breathed, feeling the threat of overstimulation begin to creep in. He would have had sympathy had he known you couldn’t take it, but he was confident in your ability to keep up with him.

“What’s wrong, Princess? Wanted it so bad and now you can’t handle it?” He asked, his eyes glazed over with lust as he felt himself approaching his own orgasm. You frowned at his words, now on a quest to prove your own point as you tried to ignore the stinging beginning to set in.

“I can t-take it.” You huffed, a shiver running down your spine as he reached upwards and palmed your breast. He gave the supple flesh a gentle squeeze, his eyes closing in bliss as he let himself slip out of the persona he had created.

“Being so good for me—just a bit longer now.” He whispered, his voice far away as his eyes settled over your face once more. “Bloody hell, Y/N.” he groaned, his forehead creasing as his eyebrows furrowed together. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

He slipped his hand between your legs, his thumb landing atop your clit. He traced slow circles, knowing you were a bit further behind him and unwilling to climax without giving you at least one more. He could see how tired you were, but it did not deter him from his commitment to pleasing you.

“I love you, Fred.” You whispered, softened entirely by the sweet look in his eyes. All of his previous anger fled, leaving him just as the boy you’d fallen so hopelessly for.

“I love you, sweetheart.” He hummed, his hips stuttering and his stature faltering. “Give me one more, yeah? I know you can do it.” And he was right, your entire body was ablaze with another orgasm much more powerful than the last two.

“Together?” You gasped, reaching up and settling your palm on his cheek.

“Yeah? You want to cum with me?” He encouraged your train of thought. “Want me to fill that pretty cunt? Really show you who you belong to?”

“Fuck yes, please.” You cried, your fingertips tangling in the locks of hair hanging over his ears. Your walls clenched around him, drawing him in and effortlessly finishing what you had started.

You felt his hips stall, a low growl leaving his lips as he pulled you down on him one last time. He managed to whisper your name as he spilled his release into you, the feeling of him filling you completely sending you spiraling on your own accord. You let out a defeated sigh, the tail end of it turning into a whine as your body went rigid. Your nails scratched at the skin of his arm, your hand on him the only thing keeping you tied to earth instead of floating up and through the clouds.

The both of you rode the high together, euphoria infiltrating every nerve in both of your bodies as he leaned down towards you. Ever so gently, he laid his head on your chest, which was still heaving as you tried to catch up from the lack of oxygen. He placed a plethora of small kisses against the warm skin, his eyes fluttering closed as he appreciated the comfort that came with your company.

Silence hung heavy between you for a few moments, neither of you sure where to go from there. You were still strung out on bliss, barely remembering what got the two of you in the position until he spoke again.

“M’sorry, sweetheart.” His voice barely broke through the room, so timid and shy that you almost missed it completely. “I know you’d never do that. Just got in my head, I s’pose.”

“I… I get it.” You sighed, twisting a lock of his hair. “If I walked in on that, after us being so.. you know. I’d likely feel it too.” You confessed. “I was upset that we had to cancel dinner. I am upset, but not at you.” You tried your best to explain yourself despite exhaustion eating away at your mind. “I’m just upset because I miss you. You’re so busy now, and I’m happy for you, really, but I miss you too.”

“You think I was bloody happy about it?” Fred chuckled, the tip of his fingers tracing shapes into your skin. “I’d much rather be here, with you.” At that, you relaxed completely, understanding that you had gotten too far into your own head. “It’s my favorite place to be. Always has been.”

“Mine too, Fred.” You hummed, smiling softly at the thought.

“I reckon I was a bit jealous, ‘specially at the thought of you and George spending so much time with each other. Would rather it be me, you know, sitting at the shop and laughing with you all night… taking you out for dinner… loving you.” Another gentle kiss was placed to your chest, just before he looked up to meet your eyes. The soft, warm, familiar sight made you feel at ease. He was back to being your Fred, the one you missed all along.

“Darling, you have nothing to be jealous about.” You promised, smiling as he placed a quick peck on your lips. “Though, if it means we get to have brilliant sex like that, by all means do what you have to do.” You explained. “Bloody brilliant, at that.” Without any further words, the two of you descended into a fit of laughter and the clouds that previously hung above your head seemingly cleared in an instant, easily proving to him there was really never a need to worry at all.

#harry potter fic #fred Weasley fic #fred weasley smut

3K notes · View notes

likeumeanit9497 · 2 days ago

Text

bet | c.s. |

chris sturniolo x fem!reader

summary: when y/n loses a bet to chris and is forced to go to a party, she realizes that she can be a lot more fun than she thought she could be.

warnings: SMUT; unprotected p in v; oral (f receiving); choking; dirty talk; overstimulation; LOTS of plot; mentions of alcohol; 18+

notes: okay soooo...this is long. guys i try SO HARD to make my one shots shorter but I CAN'T DO IT IM SORRY I JUST LOVE CREATING A PLOT LINE TOO MUCH!!! so i 100% get it if u don't want to read all 6,857 words of this BUT i will say the smut in this is excellent. if u do choose to read this i hope u enjoy but i love ALL of u so much <333

ᵕᵕᵕᵕ୨♡︎୧ᵕᵕᵕᵕ

“So after the kid shot me with the SRT I legit only had like 20 health,” Chris’s conversation was very much one-sided as you tried to keep your focus on the study material in front of you. “I didn’t have any slurp juice or bandages, so I definitely thought I was fucked because the kid was running towards me.” You began chewing on your bottom lip as you flipped through flashcards; Chris’s voice growing much too loud for the campus library. In your periphery, you could see that Chris was no longer writing notes and instead had abandoned his pencil to begin moving his hands animatedly as he continued his story. “Oh! And I was also almost out of mats. I was trying to build but he kept shooting at me so I was running out of material quick.” You sighed softly, searching through your business law textbook to find a concept that was sure to be on the test on Monday. The same test that Chris would also be taking, though he was proving to be completely disinterested in preparing himself for it as he continued to drone on about his recent Fortnite win.

“Chris,” You began, finally turning to face him. “I’m sure it’s all very impressive, but we have a pretty big midterm on Monday, remember? That’s the whole reason we’re here.” You shoot him a smile to hopefully soften your words, but thought to yourself that if you had known he was going to be so distracting, you never would have agreed to study with him. Chris blinked at you, a cocky smile pulling at the corner of his lips. He leaned back in the library chair and rested his hands against his stomach. You didn’t know Chris very well, as typically you only really spoke to each other in class, so you couldn’t really gauge his reaction to your words. You watched him for a moment, analyzing the way that his glittery-blue eyes flicked down to your lips and back up again. “But business law is so boring.” He finally replied, humour laced in his voice.

You chuckled, splitting your flashcards in half and handing a stack of them to him. “I know, trust me. But you have to study or else you’ll be fucked Monday morning.” You replied, and with a sigh he took your offered flashcards and straightened up in his chair. “Fine,” He huffed, “But I can’t stay very late, I’ve got a party to go to.” He wiggled his eyebrows cheekily as he spoke, and you stayed silent as you fought the urge to roll your eyes. Finally, you both began flipping through your respective flashcards in silence, the only distraction being the occasional brush of Chris’s arm against yours. You finally felt yourself fall into the satisfying feeling of being laser focused on the material in front of you, when Chris’s voice once again broke the silence.

“Speaking of parties, how come I never see you at any of them?” He asked, dropping his half of the flashcards onto the work table and reaching for his phone. Sighing, you barely flicked your eyes up in acknowledgement before giving him a curt response. “Not my scene.” You replied simply, hoping that answer was enough. “I don’t know if I believe that.” He replied, his voice filled with humour once again. “Hmm?” You rested your head in your hand as you continued haphazardly reading the cards. He stayed silent for a moment, and you could feel his eyes burning into you as he searched for a response. “I mean, I’ve seen plenty of your friends out.” You shrugged. “They’re more fun than I am.”

“Now I know that’s not true.” His words were finally enough to make you drop your own flashcards and turn to face him. “Chris, it’s a Friday night and I’m sitting in the library — where I plan on staying until I’m practically forced out at closing time — doing my very best to study for a midterm that I’ve been prepared to write for about two weeks. I spend so much time in this exact chair that I wouldn’t be surprised to show up one day and see a plaque with my name on it. This is my idea of fun. So how exactly do you think otherwise?” Chris smiled at you, his eyes glimmering with humorous appreciation. “I’ve got a sixth sense for these things, Y/n.” He shrugged, his voice a low, taunting whisper. You scoffed, shocked by his presumption that he knows you more than he really does.

“In fact,” He began again, making you close your eyes out of sheer frustration. “I think I can prove it.” You turned to face him once again, shockingly intrigued by his statement. Raising one eyebrow, you encourage him to continue. “Let’s make a bet.” You tilted your head, unable to hide your curiosity. “A bet.” You repeated. He nodded his head and leaned back in his chair. “We quiz each other with what’s on these flashcards. If you win, I’ll leave the library so you can study in peace, but if I win, you come to the party with me tonight.”

Your eyes widened in shock as you took in his proposition. The thought of going to a party on any weekend made you uneasy, but on the Friday before a major midterm it sounded disastrous. “And what if I say I don’t want to be a part of this bet at all?” You questioned, crossing your arms over your chest. Chris smirked and shrugged. “Then I guess you’ll have to put up with me. As a matter of fact, I bet I could stay a little later, too. I have plenty of stories to share with you.” You groaned out loud as he sent you a quick wink. “I hate parties!” You exclaimed, throwing your hands up in the air in exasperation.

“What? Don’t think you can answer more questions right than me?” He asked, his teasing voice laced with humour. But his words brought you to the realization that he was right, of course you wouldn’t have to go to the party. There was no way that Chris would be able to get more of the flashcard questions that you wrote correct. So, after a few more moments of contemplation, you shrugged your shoulders and straightened up in your chair. “Fuck it, I’m in.” A smile grew on Chris’s face as he took your hand and shook it; sealing the deal.

𓆩♡𓆪

“Yes! Let’s fucking go!” Your face dropped as you watched Chris jump from his seat, fists pumping the air as he circled your work table, soaking in his win. Once he reached you, he grabbed your shoulders and shook them lightly, pulling you from your shocked disassociation. “How the fuck did that just happen?” You asked, your voice weak as you looked at the tally score you had made on a scrap piece of paper. At the start of your little competition, you had actually been pleasantly surprised to see Chris answering the first few questions right. But, as you got closer and closer to the end, and with that, your scores eventually becoming tied, you suddenly became nervous. When you got your last question wrong, you felt your stomach drop, knowing that in order for you not to lose the bet Chris would have to get his last one wrong as well. But, to your horror, his answer was perfectly correct.

“I bet you underestimated me, huh?” Chris taunted as he began packing up his backpack. Shaking your head, you pulled your exasperated body up, collecting your own study supplies. “I guess I did.” You replied sheepishly, and without even looking you could feel Chris lean towards you. “You should never underestimate me.” He whispered, causing shivers to crawl down your spine. Then, his mood suddenly shifted back to his previous giddiness as he slung his backpack onto one shoulder. “So, text me your address. I’ll pick you up around 9:00 and we’ll walk to the party together, sound good?” Chris’s voice was so sickly sweet, riddled with excitement at the expense of both your shattered ego and distaste for your sudden plans. With a huff, you begin walking with him towards the library exit. “Sounds great.” You replied, your words filled with sarcasm and resentment.

𓆩♡𓆪

“Just a second!” You called, your voice shrill and panicked, as you scrambled around your apartment trying to do up your black corset while running to answer the door. Groaning, you momentarily give up on the corset and use one hand to hold it together in the back while you opened the front door. “Sorry, I just need another minute to get this damn top on.” You muttered in frustration, skipping over any greeting with Chris standing at the door. You turned around immediately, leaving the door open for him to enter as you walked into your bedroom and stood in front of you mirror.

Chris chuckled as he stepped into your apartment and followed you into your bedroom. “Having some trouble there?” He teased, nudging his chin to your undone top. You huffed as he leaned against your bedroom doorframe, crossing his arms as he took great pleasure in watching you struggle with your top.

“This thing is fucking impossible to put on!” You exclaimed, contorting your body into unflattering positions in an attempt to see what you were doing as you worked at clipping up one of the many clasps. Your eyes fell to your clock, noticing that it was exactly 9:00. “I’m sorry Chris, are we gonna be late?” You asked as you continued to struggle with your top.

“It’s a party, Y/n,” Chris began, pushing himself off from the doorframe and walking towards you. “We can’t be ‘late’.” Without asking for permission, Chris mindlessly walked up behind you to begin helping with your fussy corset. You stilled as you felt his cold knuckles brush against your spine as his fingers expertly maneuvered the stubborn clips into place. “Thank you.” You managed to whisper, even though your mouth had suddenly grown bone dry.

Once he fastened the last clip, Chris took a moment to step back and check over his work. Nodding in approval, you watched him through the mirror as his eyes drifted along your entire outfit. “Damn. I didn’t think you even owned anything like this.” He laughed, locking eyes with you in the mirror. You took a moment of your own to look at the lacy black corset and black mini skirt covering your body, and mirrored his laugh.

“This isn’t the first time I’ve been dragged to a party, you know.” Chris made a cheeky face at you through the mirror. “Dragged is a crazy word. I prefer to think of it as you finally allowing yourself to spend your Friday night like a normal 21 year old college student.” You turned away from the mirror and rolled your eyes, reaching for your purse on the bed to make sure you had everything in it that you might need tonight. Chris chuckled as you began stuffing your purse with your lip combo and perfume of the night, and suddenly you felt the heat of his body behind you as he stepped closer to you. “You know, we can blow off this party if you really don’t want to go.”

You let out a soft gasp and your eyes fluttered shut at his warm whispers in your ear. His mouth lingered just inches from your ear as he waited for a response, but confusion washed over your body like lava. After what could have possibly been too long of an unbearable silence, you broke it by laughing dryly. “Yeah yeah, but I lost the bet…remember?” While you tried to keep your voice steady, you winced at how weak your words came out. Chris laughed softly, his breath warming your skin deliciously. “Ah yes, the bet.” He replied, his voice much lower than it had been before. You shivered as you felt his thumb trail softly down your bare arm. “We better get going then.”

You took a deep breath before turning around to face him. Looking up at him through your false eyelashes, you took a moment to examine his curious expression. His eyes looked soft as they glimmered in the dim lighting of your bedroom, but there was a barely distinguishable tension in his jaw — as though he was clenching his teeth in discomfort or strain — as he stared down at you. “Okay.” You finally replied, your voice a hoarse whisper.

You suddenly felt chilled as Chris’s body moved away from yours, and were completely shocked by the wave of disappointment that crashed through your system. As Chris helped you slip on your black jacket and you both walked out of your apartment and towards the party, you couldn’t help but ask yourself: what would have happened if you took the option not to go to the party?

It was a short walk to the house party, but by the time you and Chris walked up to the front door, you were beginning to grow squirrelly with nerves. It had been a long time since you had gone to a party, and you were sure that you had never been at this particular house before. As if he was reading your mind, Chris nudged your shoulder softly. “Hey, it’ll be fun,” You turned to look at him, giving him a weak smile. He leaned in closer to your ear, as if he was preparing to tell you a secret. “This is actually my place, so you’re already tight with the host.” You looked at him, slightly shocked that the party was at his home yet he chose to meet you at your place first, but it did calm your nerves slightly.

That changed as soon as Chris opened the front door. Immediately, you were met by a throng of unfamiliar people scattered throughout the house, loud music blaring, and scattered beer bottles and solo cups along the floor. After shooting you a reassuring look, Chris led you up the stairs to the main part of his home; filled with even more people and even more mess. A handful of people walked up to Chris in greeting, and you felt like an invader of the party; even though Chris made sure to introduce you to everyone he was talking to.

Just when you were about to ask Chris to show you where the washroom was — in which you planned to spend the rest of this horrifying night in hiding — you heard your name get called over the incessant chatter. Turning your head in the direction of the living room, you noticed three of your best friends on the couch, smiling and waving their hands in your direction. “You bitch! Why didn’t you tell us you were coming out?”

You felt the weight of humiliation and awkwardness lift off of you, and you shot them a warm smile before turning to Chris. Noticing your friends, he tilted his head in their direction and smiled kindly down at you. “Go ahead, I’ll find you later.” With a childish giggle, you squeezed his arm as a gentle sign of appreciation before quickly scampering off to your friends on the couch.

𓆩♡𓆪

After giving your friends a detailed explanation of how you ended up at the party — and after drinking more than your fair share of beer — you had melted into a state of bliss that was nearly unrecognizable to you. Never before had you truly enjoyed yourself at a party, yet at that very moment, it felt as though you were morphing into a completely different person; one much more confident and certainly more relaxed.That definitely had to do with the liquor burning through your veins, and maybe even the fact that a certain pair of blue eyes had been planted on you the whole night.

Laughing at something one of your friends’ said, your eyes traveled across the room and locked onto Chris’s from his place in the kitchen. You watched as a smirk pulled at the corner of his pink lips before he curled two fingers in the air; subtly calling you over. “I’ll be back in a bit.” You said to your friends before pulling your body — heavy from the alcohol — off of the couch and walking over to Chris at the kitchen counter.

He watched you, his head tilted ever so slightly as if he was studying you, as you approached him. You realized in that moment just how warm your cheeks felt as you finally reached him, standing just inches from his leaning frame. “You know, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say it looks like you’re having a bit of fun over there.” He said, his voice laced with amusement. You made an attempt at rolling your eyes. “Alcohol can make anything fun.” You replied, feeling too stubborn to admit that your night was going much better than you had expected. Chris straightened up and turned to the counter where he grabbed a bottle of tequila and began filling up two shot glasses. “Well in that case, I think you should take a shot with me.”

You smiled and stayed silent as you watched him pour the liquid into the small glasses. You couldn’t help but admire his side profile as his long eyelashes framed his slightly reddened eyes, and his teeth bit down on his lower lip in concentration. Even with your blurred vision, you could see the faint sprinkle of freckles along the soft slope of his nose, and appreciated the soft flush of baby pink — no doubt a gift granted to you by his consumption of alcohol — along his cheeks.

You snapped out of it once he turned back to face you, holding out a shot — noticeably less full than the one in his other hand — for you to grab. You obliged, and held it up in a cheers with him before you both tilted your heads back, wincing at the familiar burn as the tequila slid down your throat. “Lime.” You cried out, your voice hoarse from the liquor, and rather quickly Chris grabbed a pre-cut lime wedge out of a bowl and brought it to your lips. You opened your mouth and wrapped your lips around the slice; sucking the sour juice from it while looking up at Chris with a scrunched up face as you ignored the strange flutter in your stomach — a flutter that was most definitely not from the alcohol.

You pulled your eyes away from Chris as you plucked the lime out of your mouth. Hearing him chuckle, you looked back up at him. “Another?” He asked, holding up the bottle of Casa Migos. Regrettably, you nodded your head. “But do you have any salt?” You asked, to which Chris responded by immediately reaching over into a cabinet to his right. As he searched through the cabinet, your eyes fell onto his exposed neck typically hidden by his messy curls — his skin slightly glistening.

As he turned back to face you, a shaker of salt in his hand, you felt your mood suddenly shift into one filled with desire. Forcing a smile onto your face, you managed a small thank you. Noticing your change in mood, Chris’s eyes seemed to scan across your features for a moment in silence. “Lick the back of your hand.” He ordered, his voice low and slightly deeper than before. Instinctually, you brought your hand up to your mouth. But just as you were about to run your hand against your tongue, you were suddenly overcome with an urge — and with it, a wave of uncharacteristic confidence.

“Actually, can I do something?” You asked, looking up at Chris through your eyelashes. Your eyes fixed on his neck, and you watched as his Adam’s apple bobbed slightly. “Sure.” He said, his voice barely above a whisper. As the word left his mouth, you took the salt shaker from his hand and sprinkled some into your own open palm. “Fill the shot glasses.” You told him, and he immediately obliged. Looking back up at his face — his gorgeous features laced with confusion — you took one deep breath before moving closer to him, your bodies now so close that with each breath your chest brushed against his. His eyes were filled with shock at your sudden proximity, but he stayed perfectly still as he waited to see what you were going to do.

Slowly, so slowly, you brought your mouth to his neck before running your tongue along his creamy skin. As you did, a short gasp fell from his lips and you felt his body stiffen against you. Sticking to efficiency, you quickly pulled your tongue away before lacing your free hand through his curls; using your grip to tilt his head so that you could sprinkle the grains of salt against his wet skin. Pulling back, you caught a glimpse of Chris’s face — cheeks even more flushed and his eyes momentarily shut in bliss — before he looked down at you with uncertainty.

Untangling your hand from his hair, you reached for your shot on the counter and held it up. “Cheers.” You whispered, a small smirk tugging at your lips. Chris blinked a few times before picking up his own shot and clinking it against yours. His eyes stayed glued to yours as you both took your shots, and before the tequila had a chance to hit you with its after shock, you wrapped your lips around the patch of salt along his neck. Even in the loud room, you could swear you heard a soft moan fall from Chris lips, and you felt his pulse quicken against your mouth as you took your time licking away every grain of salt.

It wasn’t long before all of the salt had melted against your tongue, but still you continued to gently nibble and suck the delicate skin on his neck. As you did, Chris sucked in a sharp breath before gripping onto your ass tightly and pulling you against him. You released your own soft moan at the feeling of his large hand digging into your plush skin, and you wrapped your arms around his neck. “Jesus, Y/n.” Chris groaned. Against your front, you began to feel a fast-growing bulge press against you. Your mouth travelled tantalizingly slow against his skin, until you reached his ear. Grabbing his earlobe between your teeth and gently tugging on the soft skin, you whispered. “You should never underestimate me, either.”

At that, you heard an impressed chuckle. You pulled away from his skin and looked up at him, just inches from his soft lips. So close that you could feel his warm breath against your face, you began to feel intoxicated — not by the tequila, but by him. His hand stayed firmly planted on your ass, the tips of his fingers just barely whispering against your burning heat. The two of you seemed to find yourselves in some sort of stare down — neither of you moving closer to or away from the other — trying to gauge what the other wanted.

Finally, your eyes dropped to his glistening lips, and as if they had a magnetic pull you felt yourself inch closer and closer to them. Noticing this, Chris began pulling forward too, until you could feel his desire burning against your skin. Just as your lips brushed against his, you gasped for air before panting out: “Bedroom.”

Without a moment’s hesitation, Chris grabbed onto your hand and began leading you to a set of stairs descending into the basement. You could hear your own pulse over the music as it began growing more distant when you both reached the bottom of the stairs. Once you reached a locked door, Chris began pounding against it urgently. “Get the fuck out of my room!” He called through the door, and as you heard the sound of panicked shuffling on the other side he turned to face you; his eyes exuding pure desire as he ran his thumb pad against your lower lip.

You jumped as the door suddenly burst open and watched as two undone people slipped past you both; actively avoiding eye contact. As soon as they passed you, Chris grabbed onto your waist and pulled you into the dimly lit room. Without even a moment to adjust to your surroundings, you gasped as Chris slammed you against the closed door and engulfed your open mouth with his own. You moaned at the feeling of his lips moulding to yours, bringing with them a relief to the tension that had been building between you all night.

His tongue slipped into your mouth, and you welcomed it with a gasp. You relished in the feeling of his tongue completely and utterly dominating not just your mouth, but your whole body, as you felt yourself weaken in between the wooden door and his towering frame. Your head began to spin at the unfamiliar yet intoxicating taste of his lips, just as you watched in awe as he dropped to his knees in front of you.

His eyes drilled into yours for a moment, as though he was checking to make sure you were okay with what he was about to do. When you knit your brows together and began sucking on your bottom lip — desperate for his touch — he shot you a cocky smirk before drawing his attention to what was in his direct line of sight. His hands slid from your waist down to your thighs, where he began massaging them slowly while simultaneously dropping wet kisses against your burning skin.

Reacting to this, you inadvertently spread your legs further apart. As you did, you felt his lips curl into a smile against your skin as he continued running his tongue against your inner thighs. While continuing to drive you crazy with his mouth, he brought his hands up to the zipper of your skirt. As he fiddled with with the metal, he spoke against your skin. “You want this?” A soft moan fell from your lips, eliciting a chuckle from his. “I need to hear you say it, baby.” He urged, causing your chest to rise and fall rapidly. “Y-yes.” You finally managed to reply, gasping for air as you did. At your response, Chris gently nibbled at the sensitive skin on your thigh, just below the end of your skirt, as he began sliding the black material down your legs. “Good girl.” He praised just as he let the skirt drop to your ankles.

Now with just your sheer panties between his warm mouth and the place you needed it the most, you began squirming as he took a moment to admire your barely-covered heat. He brought his hands up from their place on your thighs to the soft wisp of hair along your bikini line. You shivered in pleasure from his touch so close to where you were aching for him, and watched as his eyes seemed to grow enlivened by his view. “Didn’t expect you to be wearing something like this under that skirt.” He uttered, his voice thick with desire as he toyed with the sheer material. “What did I say about underestimating me?” You replied through your breathlessness.

With that, Chris looked up at you through his thick eyelashes, a smirk cemented into his face, before hooking his thumbs onto either side of your sheer thong and dragging it excruciatingly slow down your legs; until you were suddenly completely bare in front of him. As your pussy radiated desire just inches from his face, his smirk was replaced by one of agony; as if he was suddenly desperate to bury himself into its warmth. He grabbed both of your thighs, firmly pulling them further apart, before he ran his tongue slowly along your dripping slit; his eyes drilling into you as he did. You watched as a pool of your slippery arousal gathered on his tongue, and only once he swallowed your juices did his eyes flutter closed; officially losing himself.

You cried out as soon as his warm mouth wrapped around your pulsing clit, creating an infrangible suction that caused your hips to involuntarily buck into him. Chris moaned against your bundle of nerves, sheer enjoyment plastered to his softened expression, as you laced your thin fingers through his curly hair. “Jesus.” You moaned out incoherently, unable to form a genuine thought as Chris’s tongue worked you through shock waves of pleasure. He groaned against your pussy in response, his face completely buried in between your wet folds.

You gasped as you felt his finger begin to circle your hole, teasing your entrance as it begged him for more. Noticing your flexing walls and dripping arousal, Chris slipped two hooked fingers into your spongey cunt; pumping them into you with vigour as his mouth continued to work against your throbbing clit. The room filled with the wet sounds of Chris’s fingers plunging into you, and you felt that familiar tension in your lower stomach begin to grow nearly unbearable. Your grip on his hair tightened, and you couldn’t stop yourself from grinding your slick heat against his eager mouth.

“F-fuck C-Chris, I — FUCK!” You struggled to speak as you began to lose control of your body, writhing under his hold on you as though you were trying to run from your impending orgasm. In response, Chris’s fingers began to pump into you even quicker, drawing a long moan from your lips. “It’s okay baby,” He reassured you against your clit, his voice an octave lower than usual, “Make a mess all over me.” Your back arched against the door, his encouraging words drawing you closer to your orgasm. Chris used his free hand to grab your thigh, lifting it off the ground and resting it on his shoulder; granting him access to pump his thick fingers even deeper into you.

As he pounded his fingers into your g-spot relentlessly, your body momentarily stilled as you were hit with white-hot pleasure. “Fuck!” You cried out as the waves began crashing into you, causing your body to now begin to convulse uncontrollably. Your nails dug into his scalp as you struggled to stay upright throughout your earth-shattering orgasm. Once he felt your walls begin to pulse around his fingers, he quickly slid them out; allowing you to ride through your high as his mouth began ardently drinking up your warm juices.

As soon as he noticed your moans begin to calm down, he lifted you off of your shaky legs and carried you to the bed. As he walked, he effortlessly undid the many clips on the back of your corset; freeing your full tits and wrapping his wet, swollen lips around one. As he swirled his tongue around your pebbled nipple, he gently laid you down along the edge of his large bed. With a pop he pulled his mouth off of your tit before heedlessly unbuckling his pants and slipping them down his legs, before doing the same with his boxers. You watched in awe as his cock sprung free, feeling that insatiable need grow even stronger deep inside of you.

“Need to feel that soaked fucking pussy wrapped around my cock so fucking bad.” Chris murmured, collecting the fast-growing arousal from your slit on his fingers before using the slippery fluid to stroke his member a few times. Leaning down, he drew your lips to his in a desperate and sloppy kiss, and as he did you felt the girth of his tip pressing incessantly against your dripping entrance. Groaning in anticipation, you writhed under his grip and wrapped your legs around his waist.

Unable to hold back, Chris released a guttural moan against your cheek as he suddenly slammed every inch of himself into you. You cried out in pleasure as his cock pumped into you hard and fast without giving you a moment to adjust to his size. His incessant groans and sharp breathing let you know how good your pussy felt as it enveloped his swollen shaft. “C-Chris y-you’re hu-uge!” You managed to cry out, your eyes bulging from your head as you felt your walls stretch to accommodate his size.

At that, Chris lifted his head from your cheek and dropped his eyes to watch your swollen pussy as his cock continued to pound into it. He brought a hand to your lower stomach, pressing down so that you could see the bulge that his cock was imprinting into it. With an arrogant smile on his lips, he looked back up to your fucked-out face. “You’re takin’ it so good, baby.” His words made your head spin, and you released a loud moan as you gripped onto his arms. Chris looked back down at where your pussy was swallowing his cock, and you watched his jaw go slack as he seemed to relish in the magnificent pleasure that the sight brought him.

“This pussy was fuckin’ made for me.” He groaned out, his voice low as though he was speaking to himself rather than you. Still, his obsession drew another wave of pleasure through your body, and you desperately wanted to see what he was seeing. With shaky limbs, you managed to lift your shoulders up, resting the weight of your upper body on your elbows. You gasped as you watched Chris’s thick cock disappear inside of you again and again; pulling ribbons of your arousal out on each thrust and spreading them along your inner thighs and his lower stomach.

Chris’s eyes lifted up to yours, where they stayed as he continued to pound into you. Suddenly, he brought a veiny hand to your throat; gently squeezing the sides as he bit on his lower lip. “You see how fuckin’ pretty your pussy looks milking my cock?” You let your eyes drop back to the place where your bodies met, entranced by the sight of your bright pink lips wrapping around his length. “If I died inside of you right now, I would die a happy fucking man.” He leaned forward and melted his soft lips to yours, kissing you so deeply that your head spun.

Chris’s pace began to slow; becoming much sloppier. Deep grunts fell from his lips as he dropped his forehead onto your collarbone where he placed wet, open mouthed kisses as he plunged up into your g-spot. “Fuuuuck.” He hissed, his breath warm against your clammy skin as he seemed to get caught up in how good he was feeling. “Chris.” You breathed, your brain turning to mush as you felt every inch of his cock slip through your walls at this new, excruciatingly slow, pace.

Suddenly, his movements completely stilled as he leaned over you and grabbed a pillow from the top of his bed. He straightened himself up on top of you, grabbing your waist and lifting it effortlessly as he slid the pillow under your lower back. Confused, you look up at him with knitted brows; your chest rising and falling. Noticing your un-asked question, Chris spoke. “I’m gonna cum in a minute,” He said, slowly beginning to slide in and out of you again. “And when I do, I wanna feel your pussy convulsing around me.”

With that, Chris pressed one hand firmly onto your lower stomach while using two fingers to spread apart the protective hood above your clit. With his other hand, he brought his thumb to your exposed clit and began rubbing it gently; relishing in the way your body flexed erotically each time he did. Your moans slipped past your lips in helpless squeaks, feeling overstimulated by Chris’s direct contact with your bundle of nerves in unison with the added pressure in your gut caused by his hand pressing against it. “G-god!” You cried out, grabbing onto both of Chris’s wrists as he continued working your clit and fucking you senseless; unsure of whether you were trying to pull his hands away or keep them exactly where they were.

Chris’s eyes stayed glued to your swollen clit, but his breathing grew more and more ragged as he quickly approached his orgasm. You could feel his cock swelling inside of you as he struggled to hold himself back. “Fuck,” He growled, his cheeks even more flushed than before, “Cum for me baby, please.” His voice broke at the end of his sentence, a clear sign that he was on the edge of losing control. You felt your own walls begin to crash down, sending you closer and closer to what was sure to be an earth-shattering orgasm. “P-please — a-almost there.” You whined, your back arching off of the bed as you began to feel as though you were being lit on fire.

Chris dropped his forehead onto your chest, being sure to keep his movements the same as he released soft moans against your skin. “Come on sweetheart.” He grunted as he thrusted up into you, running dangerously low on will-power, “Let me feel you cum for me.” The gritty desperation in his voice was enough to finally push you over the edge. As soon as he felt that first intense pulse reverberate through your walls, he finally allowed himself to lose all control. His hips began pounding into you incessantly as your legs tightened around his waist. Deep, brutish moans fell from his lips on each thrust as his thumb continued to rub against your clit.

“Jesus fuck!” You cried out, feeling the pressure that had been building in your stomach release as you squirted against Chris’s pelvis. As you did, Chris’s thrusts suddenly stilled, and while his thumb toyed with your clit, he released a guttural moan before you felt his warm fluid spill into your quivering pussy. His swollen cock pulsed in between your walls, and you moaned in unison with him as he began to rock himself in and out of you slowly; using your tight pussy to milk himself dry.

Once both you and him came back down to earth, Chris collapsed into your chest; laying there for a moment as you both struggled to catch your breath. Your hands fell onto Chris’s curly hair, which you ran your fingers through slowly as he drew small circles on your hip bone; both of you helping the other get back to their sober minds.

After a short while, Chris planted an affectionate kiss to your chest before lifting himself up. He pulled out of you slowly, his glazed eyes watching as his cum dripped out of you. You watched as he reached over the edge of the bed and grabbed his discarded t-shirt. After shooting you a charming smile, he gently grabbed your right thigh, spreading it slightly before using the soft material of the t-shirt to delicately wipe away the mess he had made of you. “You sore?” He asked, his voice gentle as he gazed up at you. You nodded, looking up at him with a smile as you leaned back on your elbows. “Nothing I can’t handle.” You added, sticking your tongue out cheekily.

“I am gonna need your help with the corset again before we head back upstairs, though.” You sighed, gesturing to the discarded pile of lace and buckles on the floor. Chris’s eyes followed to where you pointed. “Or…” He began, tugging at the edge of his comforter, “We could just stay down here?” Your eyes drifted up to his face, and you were met with a sheepish, tired smile. Feeling a wave of relief wash over you, you crawled to the top of the bed and curled under the warm blanket. “Thank God.” You muttered, earning another smile from Chris before he followed you into the sheets.

He pulled you into his arms, and you closed your eyes at the comforting feeling of the warmth emanating from his naked body. Exhaustion began to immediately overtake you, and you felt yourself grow heavy in his arms. “Are you sure you don’t want to go back up?” You asked, worried that he might just feel obligated to be there with you, “You’re gonna miss out on all the fun.” Your voice was now thick with sleep. Chris chuckled, squeezing you gently in his arms. “All the fun is right here. I told you, Y/n, my sixth sense never fails me.”

ᵕᵕᵕᵕ୨♡︎୧ᵕᵕᵕᵕ

#sturniolo triplets #sturniolo smut #sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo x you #the sturniolos #the sturniolo triplets

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whore4mattsturniolo · 3 days ago

Note

okay i literally NEED a fic of shy!matt not even able to look at you while he's fucking you like he covers his face with a pillow while you ride him

im literally soaked just thinking about it

𝑯𝒊𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈 ♡︎ 𝑴𝒂𝒕𝒕 𝑺𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐

𝒂/𝒏: soo obsessed wit sub!matt👅 sorry this took me foreverrrr to post, literally had no motivation...

𝒅𝒊𝒗𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝒄𝒓𝒆𝒅𝒔: @bernardsbendystraws <3

The gentle music of Matt's playlist did nothing to hide the pornographic moans coming from the both of you. In your head, you were drafting the apology message you would send to Chris and Nick afterwards.

Neither of you cared, though. Nothing was better than hearing Matt's little whines and moans whenever you had sex, his gentle words and praises better than any song.

"Fuck..." a soft whimper escapes Matt's swollen, pink lips, his hands gripping the sheets as you slowly sink down on his length. His body shivers, feeling every inch of you until his tip grazes your cervix, your tight walls squeezing his cock. "Oh my God—" he moans, grabbing your hips gently, as if you were made of glass.

"Good boy," you smile, beginning to bounce up and down on his cock, your arousal leaking onto his lap. "So—fuck—so fuckin' big," your hands resting on his chest, leaving crecent marks as you dig into his skin. His body shivers at your touch, blinded by the pleasure of being inside you.

"You're so—mmph! So damn beautiful," High pitched moans leave Matt's lips, his grip on your hips growing tighter. "Feels too good—aah!" He bites on his bottom lip hard, growing shy of his volume.

You rub his swollen lip with your thumb, pouting as he tried to keep himself from making too much noise. "Stop it," you say sternly, not stopping your movements on his dick. "Wanna hear you make those pretty noises."

"Can't—can't...S'too much..." he shakes his head, his face getting redder by the second, being reduced to a blushing, whimpering mess. One of his hands moves from your hips to grab the pillow next to him, hiding his face from you as he continues to shake from pleasure.

Feeling your tight, wet heat around his cock, he knows that if he looks at you for even a second longer, he'll cum instantly, so he continues covering his face, desperate to make you finish.

You giggle at his desperation, moving the pillow from his face, his eyes still remaining closed. "Baby..." you cock your head, holding his face in your hand as you caress his cheek with your thumb. "Need you to look at me...Can you do that for me? Please?"

He shakes his head again, his thrusts getting rougher and more erratic. "I...I can't..." he groans, his hand moving to cover his eyes. "M'gonna cum..." he whines.

"S'okay sweet boy," you smile, trying to move his hands, but they won't budge.

"Wanna make you cum—shit!" He moans, another wave of pleasure rushing through his body as you adjust the rhythm of your movements, bouncing on his cock slowly, feeling every bump and vein slide in and out of your pussy. "Wanna make you cum...before I do...M'so close..."

You laugh at his words breathlessly, feeling him match your speed, his hips bucking into you. "Please baby," you moan. "Wanna see those pretty eyes when I cum."

Matt slowly removes his hands from his face, his wide, blue eyes peering into yours. His gaze wanders, the sight of his thick cock disappearing in your tight pussy, your tits bouncing in his face. It was all too much for him.

"F-Fuck—Shit!" He moans, gripping your hips roughly as he forcefully bounces you on his dick at a fast pace. "Mmph—m'gonna...Gonna cum f'you..."

His words only spur you on further, a familar feeling building in your stomach as his hips move faster and harder, his breathing ragged and desperate. "Cum for me baby," you moan. "Wanna feel every drop."

Your reassurance was all Matt needed, his back arching as he thrusts into you a final time, a long, drawn out moan leaving his lips as he empties his load into you, his cock twitching. "Oh my God—mmph...fuck!" He yelps, his entire body spasming as you continue bouncing on him, milking him of every drop of cum.

"Shit—shit—shit!" He repeats, his vision going blurry, only being able to think of how your pussy clenches around him, how soft your skin is under his fingers, how beautiful you are.

The feeling of warm cum shooting inside you sends you off the edge, the coil in your stomach finally snapping as your orgasm washes over you. "F-Fuck Matt!" You shout, riding out your own high, Matt's body shaking from the overstimulation.

"Please!" He whines, desperately trying to get you to stop, holding your hips tightly. "S'too much! Can't—no more...Please..." Matt's babbles fill your ears as you slow down, leaning over so you and him are face to face.

"You did so good baby," you smile, brushing the hair stuck to his forehead out of his face. "So good for me...So pretty."

Matt's looks up at you, blue eyes glossed over with pleasure, his chest rising and falling rapidly as a blush creeps across his cheeks again. He smiles, covering his face with his hands, a playful whine escaping his lips.

"Stop hiding from me!" You giggle, moving his hands and pinning them on either side of his body, your lips meeting his in a gentle kiss.

Your hands release their grip from his wrists, as he wraps his arms around you, his heart and breathing rate slowing.

stay whorish <3

𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒔: @bowsandsturniolos (tysm for the request <3) @yourmother29 @sweetshuga @sturns-mermaid @leah-sturniolo @spideylana @dykes4chris @sophsturns @freshhhloveee @mattsbunnyxx

#✞ whore4matt #✞ whore4reqs #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo smut #sturniolos #sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo fanfic

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ellieslittleslutt · 3 days ago

Text

roommates with Vi and Ellie

roommates, vi, ellie, reader

cw: one kiss but not much detail, little angst (sorry), and swearing but i think that’s it

a/n: i’m loosing it so bad this took way too long to write and my motivation is kaput.

wc - 2k

╴╴╴⊹ꮺ˚ ╴╴╴⊹˚ ╴╴╴˚ೃ ╴╴

roommates, notoriously known for stealing food, late rent, bringing girls home. unfortunately yours weren’t any different. you three were close, they were your friends, but they can be absolute dicks.

living with ellie and vi wasn’t the easiest, both of them being top athletes, vi captain of the soccer team and ellie captain of the hockey team they had all the girls crawling and pleading for them, you never saw the appeal only seeing them as friends. yeah they were attractive and vi had nice tattoos and ellie was kinda soft with you— we’re getting off track!

coming home after a long day of classes and lectures you would like to come home to a quiet and calm home. obviously that’s not how it works for those two. opening the door you put down your bag and is immediately greeted with vi in the couch still in her jersey a cute girl in her lap basically tongue fucking each others mouths.

rolling your rates you walk past them towards the kitchen “hey vi” you mumbled and she raised a hand to greet you. you grab yourself a snack and walk away to go find ellie in hopes she is more up for conversation than vi.

opening the door you see her passed out in bed already changed into her pajamas. with a sigh you scoot her over lying down besides her. she groans opening her eyes to look at you “m’ tryna nap” she mumbles shoving her face into her pillow “and i’m trying to ignore vi basically fucking that girl on our couch” you said taking a bite of your cookie scrolling on your phone. “who is it this time?” she asks taking a bite of your cookie. bonking her on the head to stop her and she grumbles pulling away you answer “the brunette one i don’t know her name”

“jasmine i think” ellie says getting comfy to go back to sleep “we’re going out for dinner tomorrow night after vi’s practice if you wnat to join” she mumbles “sure ill meet you at the field” ellie nodded kicking you under the sheets with her feet “now boot i have early practice tomorrow” she huffed and you got up walking out. while walking through the hallway you hear what sounds like yelling.

poking your head out you see the girl, jasmine, yelling at vi then slamming the door shut. once the coast was clear you slowly walked out towards vi “what’s up with her?” you ask watching her rub her hand over her face “called her another girls name on accident” she said muffled by her hand. you chuckled sitting down besides her “you’re such a dick” you said turning on the tv “shut up im tired” she huffed hitting the side of your arm.

you laughed hitting her away “you should just do what ellie does” you said taking a bite of the cookie “sleep all day and some how pass?” she asks looking o er at you “well no find a girl and stick with her.” “yeah then get cheated on by said girl and never trust one again?” she said deadpanning uou “shut up shes my. hold and she’s sensitive” you said with a fake pout.

you were always. protective of her since the break up keeping her in check and not letting her spiral, joking you were like her mom always taking care of her since she didn’t have one.

“so dinner?” you ask “yup you coming?” she asks “are you paying?” you chuckle “if it’s above $20 dollars no” “deal.”

╴╴╴⊹ꮺ˚ ╴╴╴⊹˚ ╴╴╴˚ೃ ╴╴

walking down the field with an umbrella since the rain was brutal today. walking up to the bleachers you find ellie watching vi her hood pulled up over her head to protect from the rain. sitting down beside her you share the umbrella with her “your hood won’t do shit in this rain” you mumbled and watching vi. “thanks” she said putting her head down on your shoulder and you passed her a small snack you always kept on you.

“i swear it’s like marry popping bag” she mumbles eating the small bag of chips “i only have so much stuff because you two constantly need something from me” she chuckled stuffing the snack in her mouth “thank you mom” she teases “you’re welcome child.”

waiting for vi to emerge from the locker room is like waiting for water to boil. she only claims she takes forever because she needs to get her hair right, i mean it is worth it in the end she does have nice hair but she’s probably also just taking her sweet time in there. ellie getting impatient and hungry bangs on the door with her fist “hurry up we’re hungry!” she calls out through the door.

the door unlocks and via drying her hair with a towel scoffing at you two “geez can you guys learn some patience?” she asks rhetorically. “nope” you smiled sitting down on the counter ellie jointing you waiting. “so where is this restaurant?” you ask kicking your legs “uhhhh somewhere around here” vi says putting her earrings back in. looking over at her raising an eyebrow “dude have you even picked where to go yet?” you ask kicking at her leg.

“ow! and no we could just figure it out” she shrugs and ellie groans next to you “v im starving i don’t wnat to walk around searching for somewhere to eat” she stares down at her feet with a frown. “we could go to the new place that opened up, they have chicken strips so that’s ellie meal down” you said looking over at vi and she nods “yeah that sounds good”

╴╴╴⊹ꮺ˚ ╴╴╴⊹˚ ╴╴╴˚ೃ ╴╴

walking around in the city you look around at all the lights and cars the cold nipping at your cheeks while you follow ellie who is crowned with the navigation title. “should be around this corner… and here we are”

looking inside at the tables it seems busy but there might be a chance of eating there. walking in vi goes to the hostess stand smiling at them “hey table for three” she says using her charm to make the wait quicker. coming back to you guys she grins at you two “used my charm i got us a wait of 5 minutes” she said proudly.

you and ellie both look unimpressed with her “charm? really?” you said with a chuckle and ellie nudges your shoulder “she slipped her a ten dollar bill i saw” she says looking at vi and she scoffs “nuh uh it was purely charm.” she says in mock offense. you chuckled patting her shoulder as the waiter takes you to your table “keep dreaming.”

the hostess sits you down at a booth and you three shuffle in vi sitting by you ellie infront. scrolling through the menu you frowned trying to look for something “els what are you getting?” you pipe up from the silence and she glances at you already down choosing now just on her phone “oh uh i just got the chicken strips like you said” she mumbles cheeks getting a bit pink.

vi giggled a bit always making fun of her for eating like a toddler earning herself a kick to the shin causing her to slam her knee up into the table other tables looking at you guys. you glare at the two sighing “can’t take you shits anywhere” these bitches we’re still giggling.

vi orders and burger and you were still stuck on what to choose. you could go with your favorite or try something new but scared you won’t like it. vi pats your shoulder encouraging you to stick with what you like and don’t waste the food. it was really because it was cheaper and after all she was paying.

╴╴╴⊹ꮺ˚ ╴╴╴⊹˚ ╴╴╴˚ೃ ╴╴

as the food came out so did the drinks and it was safe to say you ended up getting a bit tipsy along with vi dragging her out to dance her arms on your hips and yours around her neck swaying along with her while walking watched from the booth awkwardly.

“i like your nose piercing” you mumbled poking it and she chuckled “yeah?” she asks squeezing your hips a bit and you nodded “mhm.” “well i quite loke your eyes” she said softly leaning closer. you have to lean upwards a bit getting closer “nothing special, just eyes” you smile batting your lashes at her.

her gaze focuses on your lips and back to your ways then your lips before crashing them in to meet yours a surprised hum coming from you before your drunken mind morphs into it kissing her back.

ellie watched her stomach almost sinking watching her best friends kiss. she hated it, yes you were allowed to do whatever you wanted but she couldn’t help but frown at it her eyes getting a little glassy looking back down at her hands.

you were her emotional support, best friend and almost parental figure. she was five steps ahead over thinking it all.

if you got with vi you couldn’t spend as much time with her anymore and loose her friend, what if you guys move out and she’s alone what then— “hey ellie”

your voice snaps her out of it grabbing your purse vi standing behind you “let’s head home alright?” ellie could just nod following you two home not wanting to think about what’s happening in vi’s room while she stays staring at the ceiling in bed.

╴╴╴⊹ꮺ˚ ╴╴╴⊹˚ ╴╴╴˚ೃ ╴╴

what. the. fuck.

you woke up the next morning in vi’s room naked and her arm slung around your waist while she snores. a pounding headache throbs against your temples and eyes and you got dressed, pulling on one of vi’s shirts and your underwear you walking out into the kitchen to get some coffee where you spot ellie sitting at the table working on some paper. she didn’t look up at you keeping her eyes glued to her laptop.

you knew something was wrong by the way she avoided you in a way, shuffling away when you sat by her or ignoring your mumbled good morning. sitting down infront of her sipping your mug you tilt your head looking at her when she speaks up “have fun last night?” she asks her tone emotionless.

eyes widening connecting the dots on it all you groan rubbing your forehead “els it was a mistake” you said apologetically but she doesn’t take it “you’re wearing her shirt slept in her bed with her… are you two like what, hooking up or some shit behind my back”

“no els look it was one time and i would tell you—“ “would you?” ellie says sharply looking at you raising an eye brow. your mouth slightly open you struggle for words “i-.. y-yes! yes of course i would” you were almost pleading for her to forgive you. she just scoffed getting up shutting her laptop walking back to her room with no other words.

vi coming out of her room pulling a shirt on rubbing the back of her neck awkwardly while you were fiddling with your hair tugging it a bit a nervous habit. vi pulls your hand off “you’re gonna go bald if you keep doing that” she says softly.

mumbling a sorry you lean against the counter looking down at your feet. “ellie’s pissed with me because of us sleeping together.” you voice was lower and a lot slower like you were still processing it all.

vi hums making herself a coffee “i can talk to her if you want… don’t really want to but i will” you shook your heard fiddling with your top “i’ll talk to her later just… i don’t know i’ll figure it out”

╴╴╴⊹ꮺ˚ ╴╴╴⊹˚ ╴╴╴˚ೃ ╴╴

a/n: so this might be shit but i don’t have the energy to care and i rewrote this 5 times already sooooo

taglist: @myrruwrites @tloudani @nanasemo @nombreuxx

#tlou2 #ellie williams #the last of us #ellie tlou #tlou ellie #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams fluff #loser!ellie #arcane vi #vi arcane #vi #violet arcane #arcane #arcane season two #abby anderson #tlou abby

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wcnderlnds · 17 hours ago

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fool for you | kang dae-ho

・❥・ summary: best friend dae-ho gets jealous when he sees you flirting with someone else ・❥・word count: 630 ・❥・warnings: angst, sad dae-ho ・❥・ authors note: im so sry i have so much angst in my soul this week. this was a request from this list. feel free to request any!

Dae-Ho’s fist clenched at his sides, the food on his lap long forgotten as his eyes focused on the only thing that could make him feel like this. His blood was boiling, his fingers flexing in his hands as he fought the urge to walk over there. It wasn’t like he had a say, it wasn’t like he could control who you spent your time with but, man, if it didn’t hurt. Why on Earth you had taken an interest in the eccentric, purple haired junkie was a mystery to him. Then again, it wasn’t like he had told you his feelings. No, he couldn’t. You were just friends. Best friends even if he had thought about you as more than that for a long time.

He tore his eyes away from you, unable to watch as you flirty patted Thanos on the arm. That was more than his stomach could handle. Picking the food up, he shoved it to the side on the floor. If he’d even had an appetite, it was long gone by now. The ache in his chest all but consumed him.

“Hey, you good?” Your cheerful voice sounded beside him. Huh, when had you even approached him? Must have been too lost in his thoughts to even realise.

“What? Me, yeah!” He plastered a fake smile on his face, shifting his body a little so he could look at you making sure to avoid direct eye contact. You knew him far too well that the second you looked into his eyes, you’d know something was up.

“Good because I need to talk to someone,” a near squeal passed your lips. “Thanos said when we get out of here he’ll take me for a drink and I swear my heart almost beat out of my chest. He’s just so handsome and funny and he ma-”

“Can you stop talking about him for one second?” Dae-Ho cut you off, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. “Frankly, I don’t give a damn about him or what he does to your poor little heart.”

His outburst took you aback. Curious eyes examined his face. You noticed the clenched jaw, the way his hair was a mess from how many times he’d been running his hand through it. Oh. “You’re jealous?”

Dae-ho almost protested but what was the point in lying now? You had figured him out and there was no denying it. Anyone with eyes could see he was acting like a jealous fool. Jealousy wasn’t something he had ever experienced this deep before but his feelings for you were so pure, the thought of you with anyone else hurt. It hurt a lot.

“I - I… yeah, I am. I think you can do so much better than him,” he nodded his head in Thanos’ direction.

“He’s not that bad.”

“Just do me a favour and don’t talk about him in front of me anymore, okay? I can’t handle it. Please spare me. If you care about me in any way, just… don’t.”

He got up to walk away but you grabbed the sleeve of his jacket trying to pull him back down. “Dae-ho, wait. Please don’t walk away.”

“Sorry.” With a frown on his face and an ache in his heart, he walked away trying to put as much distance between you as he could while he got his feelings in check.

#kang dae ho #kang dae ho x reader #dae ho x reader #squid game x reader #squid game

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mclarengf · 6 hours ago

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un rosso inconfondibile

attending a fashion show (and scoring yourself a date in the process)

[2.1k]

note: in the two week long process of writing this, i have moved into a flat, broken two of my actual nails, and rewatched all the monster high movies. sorry it took so long. <3. (lmk if u want a part two??? im kinda in love w this dynamic i would be so keen to write more x)

“i’m genuinely so thankful to be here, and i can’t wait to see what looks they have to show tonight,” you trail off with a smile and blow a kiss to the camera.

the interviewer seems pleased enough with your response, and thanks you for your time before getting ready for the next famous face on the ferrari-red carpet.

the paparazzi were ravenous, like they always were— camera flashes were going off every second, while questions, directions and compliments were called out to you.

“please, turn this way!”

“who are you most excited to see?”

“give us a little smile!”

“you look gorgeous tonight! who are you wearing?”

at the last question, you laugh and gesture down to your silky black outfit.

“now, why would we be at a ferrari fashion show and not be wearing ferrari?”

your reply garners some laughs from the mob of cameras, and the reporter thanks you for your time.

your publicist gestures for you to head towards the entrance of the venue, allowing you to finally step off the carpet and take a breath.

like you had said earlier, you’re insanely grateful to have been invited to watch ferrari’s newest collection walk down the runway, but the sheer amount of pr you had to do before each of these shows… it could honestly bring about an early grave, you thought.

just as you were about to recollect your thoughts and continue to the door, your dress was tugged back suddenly.

you turned to see who had stepped on your train and found a man crouched down, trying to examine for any damage.

“i’m so sorry,” he said, smoothing out the fabric, seemingly pleased with the quality of it after his mishap.

“i was not looking where i was going. it’s a bad habit of mine, really…”

he had a strong accent- french, maybe— something european, at least.

“don’t worry about it,” you assured him, “i’m sure no one will notice.”

now standing, he reached out, holding his hand out. you took it, and he bowed his head to kiss it gently, making his introduction to you.

“i’m charles.”

in return, you told charles your name, and that it was very nice to meet him, but your publicist was looking quite displeased with you by the door, where you were meant to be a whole minute ago.

he raised his eyebrows, amused by your story, and followed your gaze to where there was, indeed, a stern looking woman waving you over.

“i’ll see you around, then.”

charles nodded by way of a goodbye and let you leave, chuckling as you made hurried steps towards the entrance.

your publicist frowned as you came closer, worriedly typing something out on her phone.

“come on, love, you were meant to be in there ages ago! they need to get more photos inside, and you have…” she pulled up her email and checked something quickly, “you have two interviews for ferrari’s social media, and for vogue france.”

“you worry too much,” you replied, shooting a smile at her, “it’s okay, i know what to do. we’ve been here hundred of times before, remember?”

she seemed to calm down a bit after your reassurance, but that did nothing to stop her from giving you a nudge to go inside.

you took some more deep breaths before you walked in, preparing for another round of photo ops.

at least these photographers didn’t yell.

“could we get one of you facing left, please?”

“perfect, and just another with your head turned!”

you weren’t really listening, just letting your body follow their instructions loosely.

just as you were getting into a rhythm with it, the instructions stopped coming. instead, the photographers were focussed on someone who was coming around the corner towards you.

“charles!”

ah.

you narrowed your eyes at him as he came closer. he was walking with a cocky sort of swagger, but who wouldn’t, you supposed, with all those cameras following him.

“we meet again,” he smiled widely.

“and so soon, too,” you added before you were interrupted by the photographers asking to get a photo of the two of you together.

you both forwent verbal answers, and instead positioned yourselves to be photographed— his arm came up to your waist, and yours behind his back.

“you’re a pretty big deal, huh,” you took the opportunity to ask, in between looking into different camera lenses with him.

he laughed, causing a rapid flurry of camera clicks as he did so.

“i suppose you could say that.”

you opened your mouth to reply, but was cut off by a shout, “please, charles, now by yourself!”

…maybe these guys did yell.

you shot a ‘what can you do’ look to charles as you left the spotlight, taking the photographer’s plea as a rightful cue to leave.

he held his hands together and mouthed a ‘sorry!’ quickly, before turning back to the horde and flashing them a brilliant smile.

jesus— he could be a toothpaste model or something.

you made it through your two social media interviews with no hiccups, though the vogue correspondent did ask you the nature of your relationship with charles, as, “you two seemed quite friendly earlier!”

you’d laughed it off and told her the truth, though for some reason, she didn’t seem too convinced.

a loud voice echoed around the room, telling everyone, “ladies, and gentlemen, signore e signori, if you could please take your seats.”

you found yours with ease, being seated in the front row, almost halfway down the runway, to the left of some magazine editor you honestly hadn’t heard of.

you started up a conversation with her about the current fashion season, and what trends she was predicting would hit the mainstream soon.

you were discussing animal print when a figure sat down into the seat on your left. they felt familiar before you even turned around, and you somehow weren’t surprised to see charles grinning sheepishly at you.

“life is funny how it works, no?”

you rolled your eyes and excused yourself, turning back to the editor, only to find she was engrossed in a conversation with her other neighbour. resigned, you faced charles again.

“are you stalking me?” you questioned him.

he understood your sarcasm and laughed, holding his hands up in innocence.

“of course not. it just seems the world wants us to be together.”

he let the words sink in for a moment, then realised his mistake.

“no, i- i didn’t mean together like that, you know? i just meant- erm…”

you try not to laugh at his attempt to explain himself, and place a hand on his knee to stop him from bumbling.

“so how’d you get invited? are you a model or something?” you decided to ask, the question having been on your mind for a while.

he smiled, like he knew something you didn’t, and shook his head.

“nothing like that. i… work with ferrari.”

your lips formed an ‘oh’ of understanding as he kept talking.

“i usually do not come to these things, but i was in town.”

the lights dimmed, ending your conversation before you could reply, but as you turned your attention towards the runway, you felt charles shift towards you and whisper, “i am happy i decided to come. i am here with you,” before moving back as if nothing had happened.

was he flirting with you?

you smiled to yourself, allowing yourself a selfish moment of pride before taking your phone out and recording a video of the first model.

charles didn’t bother you too much for the rest of the show, only leaning over every now and again to share his thoughts on whichever outfit was being walked down the runway. you found yourself agreeing with many of his opinions, and he would smile whenever you told him so.

focussing back on a gorgeous denim set walking past, you caught him in the corner of your eye nodding his head slightly to the music, then pursing his lips and leaning towards you again.

“you look beautiful, by the way,” he murmured softly, “i don’t know what you look like when you’re not at fashion shows, but i’m sure it’s beautiful too.”

oh, he was definitely flirting.

another model walked past, and you took the opportunity to lean over and whisper back in his ear, “i can’t lie and say you’re not pretty handsome too.”

a slight flush covered his cheeks, though you couldn’t say definitively that it wasn’t because of the scarlet dress strutting past at the moment. then, he was quiet for a while, and you worried you had upset him somehow.

your fears were alleviated when you felt his body move closer once more.

“i think we should have a dinner together.”

you turned your head to look at charles in the eyes, to gauge if he was being serious or not.

he looked serious about it, albeit there was a cheeky smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

with the way he was looking at you so intently, how could you not say yes?

“i’m free tonight, if you are too.”

a smile finally broke out on his face as he nodded enthusiastically.

“if you let me rush back to my hotel and change after this, you can pick me up at…” you checked the time on your phone quickly, “nine?”

at his insistence, you scribbled down your number onto a scrap piece of paper you'd found in your purse, making him promise to call when he arrived at your hotel. he replied by pressing the paper to his lips, closing his eyes as he kissed it, then tucking it away in a pocket, returning both of your attentions to the runway, though he was sitting much closer to you than he had been before.

the rest of the show seemed to pass twice as quickly, the idea of your date with the handsome man next to you occupying most of your thoughts, although a few pieces you had eyed up on the runway were also on your mind, making you wonder if you could add them to your personal wardrobe afterwards.

after rocco iannone came out from backstage and thanked everyone for coming, the house lights came on, and a gentle chatter filled the room as the audience bid their goodbyes to each other at the end of the show.

charles offered you his arm, helping you up. no doubt the paparazzi would have a field day with those pictures. you could practically picture the second-rate gossip magazine headlines already.

the two of you navigated your way to the doors, hand in arm the whole way. you exchanged thoughts on the show to each other, telling the other which clothes really caught your attention, or which model surely had a great career ahead of them.

recognising your publicist from earlier, charles dropped you off in front of her, introducing himself when she said hello.

“we’re going to dinner after this,” you mentioned to her, “so after we get back to the hotel, you can have a well-deserved night off, yeah?”

she waved you off jokingly and, after glancing down at her phone, told you your driver would be pulling up about now.

“i’ll call you when i am there to pick you up, chérie.” charles stepped away from you, kissing your hand again before disappearing into the crowd, presumably to find his team.

“he’s very charming~” your publicist nudged your shoulder, teasing you.

you rolled your eyes at her antics and took your arm in hers, leading the both of you outside to find the car.

—

you settled into the rented sprinter van and rested your head on your hand, watching the lights of the city zoom past your window as you drove down the streets of milan.

you snapped out of it when you heard your publicist calling your name. you’d missed what she’d said, so you were left staring at her as she pushed her phone into your face.

it took a second to focus on the bright screen suddenly in your vision.

what you saw was a photo of charles and you from earlier in the night on vogue italia.

in the caption, though, was a description of your job and his.

‘charles leclerc, pilota di formula uno per la scuderia ferrari.’

scuderia ferrari formula one driver.

his words from before suddenly echoed in your head and you caught yourself grinning at the realisation. you’d assumed he was just a corporate employee, but no— he was one of two drivers upholding the entire ferrari legacy in formula one right now.

somehow, you were even more excited for your dinner now, and if nothing came of the date, you could at least go home to your friends and laugh about the first time you’d met a formula one driver. biting back another smile, you were already picturing your wardrobe at the hotel, mentally picking out what you should wear.

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carbonfiction · 12 hours ago

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i’m a resident jean hater because she’s really not all that (she makes me insecure as hell because she’s tall and slim and i’m short and just a liiiittle bit stout) and plus she only has that hot demure boring energy like wheres the fun in that? boring ahh hell😹plus she’s got a fake ass MD. would logan immediately lose interest in her the second charles hires the new young social studies teacher that prances in with her big framed specs, bouncy fat rack curls and nervous disheveled bubbly personality? she has so many facts on the top of her head from all the wars he fought and what?? he also sees her in the lab??? she has a plant mutation and she dabbles in biology???? AND she was in law school????? so she’s got a mouth on her… and when he finds out by eavesdropping that she’s a virgin and a squirter one night that the girls all confess secrets he loses it, completely tuning out jean’s confessions. he wants to ruin that smart girl 🐱 so bad.

can i please take the 🐳 emoji as an anon because this is my third ask and i’m both the bathtub and glasses anon i LOVE to yap

DEAR ANNNONNN HELLOO!! god im so sorry this took so long to reply to🥲 but you ABSOLUTELY can have🐳!!!

Honest that is so real as a fellow stout girlie (despite being on the slightly taller end)

Personally I just could never get into movie jean for a litany of reasons; i was and still am so much more of a storm and rogue kinda girl. And Especially within dynamics w logan; storm as a relationship interest is everything to me. (Ill never forget or forgive for what they took from us dofp stormverine kiss getting cut)

But logan and a fairly 'innocent' mouthy smart girl??? Oh that man is following like a puppy. He his obsessed.

I feel like he would love a smart girl so much. Theres just something so alluring about someone so confident in their knowledge and skills. not to mention the cocky twang of pride that threads through him whenever he sees you correct someone on a piece of info; never condisending but explaining the actual fact to who whomever got confused. (likely poor scott which instantly wins you extra brownie points bc you?? Gorgeous and smart girl happily correcting scott on a mistake??? His knees are buckled)

But there issss another perk of him having a smart, inexperienced girl.. And thats when he can turn his smart, headstrong princess all dumb.

When simple touches from his fingers, tongue and eventually, cock can all change you from chatty, brainy and sometimes even a little bratty into a babbling, brainless mess soaking through his sheets.

Getting to finally fuck the brains right out of his cleverest girls pretty head by way of her tight puffy cunt? Truly his favorite thing at the end of a long day.

(I rambled my way through this im so sorry- is it even cohesive idk?? but i do have manymanymany thoughts on smart girl reader that i might have to expand on at some stage..)

#carbonrambles #logan howlett #wolverine #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett smut #wolverine smut #🐳anon!!#carbonasksforasks

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greengoblinswifey · 1 day ago

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https://www.tumblr.com/greengoblinswifey/771997285730205696/thanks-for-ur-answers-on-the-dbfrafe-asks-im

OMG YESSS, I was dying for them to have an actual serious relationship 🤩🤩 just one more thing, how did the dad found out? Bc when he said “you and rafe are what?” at the beginning of the blurb I was like “why are we late to the conversation, roll that back from the beginning” 😭😭🤣 like I want to see his initial recation upon finding out if that makes sense

Thanks for everything omt

a/n— because i’m so generous, enjoy xo

The world as you knew it would come crashing down if your father had ever caught you and his best friend fucking. You and Rafe snuck around too much with a plethora of close calls, thus, you thought it was probably inevitable.

It was weird to wrap your mind around it, but Rafe knew your father better than you did with their friendship surpassing your twenty years on earth.

He was serious about you. You weren’t some dirty secret and he loathed that your entire relationship was you sneaking around behind your dad’s back.

His hands held yours as he stared into your eyes, waiting for your father to enter the living room. “I know your dad better than anyone else. And I know that it’s better we be honest with him about us being together.”

You nodded your head slowly, chewing on your bottom lip.

Your father was chill, he wasn’t an old head or anything and you believed him to be open minded but that didn’t stop you from being scared of what his reaction might be.

Rafe sensed your nervousness and brought you in for a kiss that soothed you, though it didn’t last for long.

“What the fuck?!” your father’s voice boomed throughout the entire house.

You jerked back, startled by his sudden entrance. This was exactly what you were afraid of. Granted, he didn’t catch you fucking or anything, but he saw something before you said anything.

“You’re taking advantage of my fucking daughter!” your father continued, anger evident in his tone.

“Dad, please,” you interjected. “It’s nothing like that. Rafe and I are in a relationship.”

Your dad’s voice thundered through the house, shaking the very walls. “You’re what with Rafe?!”

And that started the most heated discussion you’d ever had with your father that ended with him walking away angrily. Though, he did hear you out a bit.

Before Rafe left he wanted to at least have a one on one conversation with his best friend. They’d never had a disagreement this big and he was couldn’t leave without at least attempting to mend things.

He knocked on your father’s office before opening the door. Your father looked up, still seething from the ordeal.

“Why the fuck are you in here, haven’t you done enough?” he asked, clearly upset.

Rafe took a deep breath before starting. “I’m so sorry man. It was never my intention to hurt you or betray you. I’ve never seen her in that way until a few months ago.”

“It’s my daughter Rafe, that’s what gets me. Why did it have to be her? I know your reputation, you could’ve gone for anyone else,” your father bellowed, fists clenching.

“It had to be her because the love in my heart is only reserved for a woman like her. It’s only reserved for her. I didn’t seek her out, the connection just sparked in a way I didn’t expect. And you’re right, I have a reputation but that’s in the past. I’m ready to settle down and I would never ever hurt her. I swear on my mother’s grave.”

At the mention of Rafe’s mother, your father’s eyes shot up from his clenched fists. Rafe would never mention his mother or even swear on her unless he was serious.

He thought for a moment. You were twenty years old and capable of making your own decisions, he trusted your judgment wholeheartedly. You were one of the most intelligent people he knew and you had good discernment. You never brought home any guys so if you had decided to inform him of your relationship with his best friend of all people, it was serious.

“Alright fine. You can date her, I’ll give you a chance just this once. But I swear to God if you get my little girl pregnant this young or break her heart, I’ll fucking kill you and they won’t find your body,” your dad told him, firmly.

“100% valid and I’m on board,” Rafe said, “thanks man. You know I love you and I love her. I’ll treat her the way she deserves, you raised such an admirable woman.”

Your father stood up and Rafe pulled him in for hug. It was hesitant at first before they both melted into it. The hug signified the love, trust and years of friendship between them. It reminded Rafe of the hug your father gave to him the day his mother died, signifying they’d always be there for each other no matter what. It signified they would remain best friends through whatever hardships they faced.

Now, decades later, that promise stood firm, no matter the circumstance and apprehension.

“Take care of her man. She’s my entire world,” your dad said, tears threatening to prick his eyes as he pulled away from the hug.

“I will. She’s my world now too,” Rafe replied and pulled him into another hug.

Slowly, you pushed open the office door and seeing the sight before you made tears flood your eyes. You walked over to them and Rafe pulled you into the hug.

“I love you both. I’m sorry if I disappointed you dad,” you said, one arm around him.

“I love you more, pumpkin. And you could never disappoint me. Go live your life and be happy, I’ll always be in your corner no matter what.”

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mymoonisgrey · 3 days ago

Text

you, my love, are All I Need.

synopsis: After the tragedy of the Star Plasma Vessel incident, Satoru Gojo loses more than just his closest friend, Suguru Geto—he loses the one person who made the chaos of his world feel bearable. She was his light, his tether to something more human, and just when he dared to imagine a future with her, fate cruelly severed their bond. With her sudden disappearance in his third year at Jujutsu High, Satoru is left reeling, torn between his duties as the strongest sorcerer and the ache of searching for someone he may never find.

pairings: gojo satoru x reader. (og jujutsu au.)

chapter warnings: 18+, blood, mentions of war atmospheres, profanities, smut (flashback— sorry), body horror description.

wc : 7k+

all i need's playlist!

series masterlist.

a/n : and chapter 3 is out, im on a roll here. Do you guys like the plot so far? 😢

previously.

2006.

His dorm was always a mess, a clash of luxury and chaos that only Satoru could pull off. Designer jackets draped carelessly over his desk chair, empty sweet wrappers scattered across the floor, and the faint scent of his cologne—clean, crisp, and achingly familiar—lingering in the air. You were used to it, though. It was his space, and somehow, it always felt like yours, too.

He stood by the edge of the bed, looking at you like he was starving. His half-unbuttoned shirt hung loosely off his broad shoulders, teasing glimpses of the defined muscle underneath, and his silver hair was tousled in a way that made him look both untouchable and utterly yours.

Those impossibly blue eyes locked onto you with a heat that made your stomach flip. “C’mere.” he said, his voice low and commanding, yet so soft, and it was all you could do to obey. You were so drawn to him. Was this a red string theory? be believed in them— should you?

You took a hesitant step closer, but that wasn’t enough for him. He reached out, grabbing your wrist and pulling you flush against him. His hands slid to your waist, his thumbs brushing bare skin beneath your shirt, and the way he looked at you made your knees weak.

“God, you’re so fucking pretty,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear. “Every time I see you, I wanna rip this shit off and make you mine all over again.”

“Satoru—”

But your protest was cut off when he captured your lips in a kiss that stole the air from your lungs. It was all tongue and teeth, messy and desperate, as if he couldn’t get enough of you. His hands roamed your body, squeezing and kneading as he pressed you closer.

He broke the kiss just long enough to pull your shirt over your head, tossing it carelessly to the floor. His gaze roved over you, dark and hungry, and he let out a low whistle.

“Look at these,” he said, his hands coming up to cup your breasts. His thumbs brushed over your nipples through the thin fabric of your bra, and he groaned. “Perfect fucking tits. I should bury my face in them and never come up for air, hm? Suck ‘em raw.” he emphasized with a firm and sharp pinch to your hardened— oh so perfect nipples under the flimsy fabric.

You blushed furiously, but he didn’t give you time to respond. His hands slid behind you, unhooking your bra with ease before tossing it aside. The cool air against your skin made you shiver, but the way he stared at you made heat pool low in your belly.

“Fuck,” he breathed, leaning down to capture a nipple in his mouth. His tongue swirled over the sensitive bud before he grazed it lightly with his teeth, and you couldn’t stop the moan that escaped your lips.

“That’s it,” he said, pulling back to admire the way your chest heaved. “Let me hear you, baby. I wanna hear every little sound you make.”

His hands moved to your shorts, tugging them down along with your underwear in one smooth motion. He groaned as he took you in, his eyes dark with lust.

“Pretty pussy,” he muttered, his fingers brushing over your folds. “So wet already. All for me, huh?”

You could barely think, let alone respond, but that didn’t seem to bother him. He pushed you back onto the bed, spreading your legs wide and kneeling between them. His hands gripped your thighs, holding you open as he stared at you like you were his favorite meal.

“God, you’re perfect,” he said, leaning down to press a kiss to your inner thigh. “And you taste so fucking good, too. Can’t get enough of you.”

The first swipe of his tongue against you made your back arch off the bed. He groaned at the taste, his hands tightening on your thighs as he dove back in.

“Satoru—” you whimpered, your hands fisting the sheets.

“Mm,” he hummed against you, pulling back just enough to smirk. “What’s wrong, sweetheart? Too much?”

You nodded, your chest heaving, but he just chuckled. “You can take it,” he said, his voice dripping with confidence. “This is just the warm-up, baby. Gotta get you nice and ready for me, don’t I? How else am I supposed to fuck this pretty little pussy without making sure she’s good and prepped?”

The filthy words sent a shiver down your spine, and the way he looked at you—like he was ready to devour you whole—left you breathless.

He went back to work, his tongue and lips driving you closer and closer to the edge. The pleasure was overwhelming, and you felt tears prick your eyes as you gasped and whimpered beneath him.

“Too much,” you cried, your hands reaching for him, trying to push him away.

“Not yet,” he growled, his grip on your thighs tightening. “You’re gonna give me one more. Just one more, baby. You can do that for me, can’t you?”

You couldn’t find the words to respond, but the way your body trembled beneath him was answer enough. He didn’t let up, his tongue and fingers working in tandem to push you over the edge again.

When you finally shattered, your cries echoing through the room, he pulled back, his lips glistening as he grinned down at you. “Good girl,” he said, his voice full of pride.

You were still catching your breath when he stood, shrugging off his shirt and undoing his belt with deliberate slowness. “That was just the appetizer,” he said, his grin turning wicked. “Now, let’s see how much you can really take.”

And as he climbed back over you, his body pressing against yours, you realized that he wasn’t going to stop until he’d completely unraveled you.

He spread your legs impossibly wide, his strong hands roaming over the soft, milky expanse of your thighs, his touch deliberate and possessive. His fingers slid up, caressing your calf before reaching your ankle, where he leaned in and placed a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss on the arch of your foot. His thumb pressed into the sole, sending a faint tingle up your leg, while his other fingers traced over your polished toenails, lingering on the glossy finish of your French pedicure—the one he insisted you get. His treat, his card, his instructions: “Have a field day, baby.”

“Good girl,” he murmured, his voice dripping with satisfaction as his other hand ventured lower, slipping between your thighs. His fingers danced over your pussy, teasing and spreading your slick folds apart. The wet, obscene sounds of your arousal filled the air, making his grin widen. His thumb found your clit, rubbing it in slow, deliberate circles, drawing a needy gasp from you. “Pretty pussy,” he muttered, almost to himself, like he was admiring art he’d sculpted with his own two hands.

A flush spread across your chest and cheeks, and you instinctively hid your face with your arm. He clicked his tongue in disapproval, his tone playful yet firm. “C’mon now, don’t be shy. Lemme see your face, baby.” His fingers didn’t stop their sinful work, and when you peeked at him, he rewarded you by plunging two long digits inside, curling them just right as he began scissoring you open. “Fuck,” he groaned, feeling the way your walls gripped him. “So tight. Gonna need to stretch you real good for me, aren’t I?”

Your head tipped back, and a mewl escaped your lips as his pace quickened. He smirked at the sound, his blue eyes gleaming with pride and lust. “Atta girl,” he purred. “Sing for me.” And you did. You cried out, your voice breaking as he coaxed you into release after release, your body trembling under his skilled hands. Every shudder, every whimper made his cock throb with anticipation.

When you finally caught your breath, you felt the wet, heavy slap of his cock against your sensitive folds, the thick, mushroom-shaped tip dragging across your entrance and bumping against your swollen clit. You whimpered, your thighs instinctively clenching, but he was quick to pry them apart again. “Where you goin’, huh?” he teased, a boyish laugh spilling from his lips as he dragged you closer, his grip on your thigh firm and unyielding.

“Satoru, it’s too much,” you whined, squirming beneath him, your body still pulsing with the aftershocks of your previous highs.

He chuckled, his voice a mix of amusement and hunger. “You’ll take it,” he murmured, leaning down to capture your lips in a wet, heated kiss. His hands slid to the backs of your thighs, his grip tightening as he folded your legs, pressing your knees to your chest. He manhandled you effortlessly into a mean, filthy mating press, and the sheer strength of him—his dominance—drew a shameless, needy grunt from you.

“I love you,” he whispered between kisses, his words punctuated with breathless moans and sloppy affection. “Love you so much—mwah—fuck, you’re perfect. If it’s too much, just say the word.”

“Red,” you nodded, your voice trembling, reassuring him of your boundaries.

“Good,” he growled, positioning himself at your entrance. The first thrust was slow, deliberate, his cock stretching you in a way that made you cry out. “Fucking perfect,” he groaned, pulling out just enough before slamming back in, even deeper this time. The friction was overwhelming, your slick heat gripping him like a vice. “Girl, you feel so fucking good,” he panted, his hips finding a relentless rhythm, every snap of his pelvis driving you closer to the edge.

You were lost in him, in the filthy, desperate way he claimed you, his words and actions consuming every thought until all that remained was him.

It seemed like forever, but he brought you back to life with a splash of water on your face, and you jerked awake, groggy, confused. “Eh?”

He sighed, a laugh escaping his lips before kissing your forehead. “You tapped out on me,” he murmured, biting his lip, eyes twinkling with both amusement and concern. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

His gaze softened, almost guilty, like a puppy caught in the act.

“Hurt? No,” you said, your voice still a little shaky, “but you definitely blew me away.” You gave him a small, teasing smile.

He chuckled sweetly, sliding your legs open, only for you to snap them shut, gasping, “Again?”

“No, baby,” he grinned, shaking his head, “I’m cleaning you up.” He lifted the small white towel in his hand, waving it like a white flag.

Relieved, you let out a sigh. “God knows my stamina isn’t as high as yours. You’re a walking... sex addict.” The words slipped out before you could stop them.

He laughed, undeterred, as he began his work. “If it’s any consolation, I love my work.” He gave you a wink.

You nodded, genuinely grateful. “Thank you.”

“For what? This is my job, sweetheart,” he replied, looking at you as though you were the most precious thing in the world.

You raised an eyebrow, your hand fisting the sheets, playing with the soft fabric as you tilted your head. “Is everything concerning me your job?”

He gave you a confused look, mimicking your raised brow as he wiped you gently. Your eyes flickered to the flex of his biceps, the veins—his dedication to being the strongest jujutsu sorcerer ever. And you were still in second year.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t it be? You’re my lady.”

“Usually, married men think that way,” you teased.

“In my head, I’m already married to you.” He spoke softly, eyes not meeting yours as he carefully slid the fresh panties on you. “I daydream of us, somewhere far away, with a rock on your finger.”

Your heart stuttered, your breath catching. What did you do to deserve him? A man so devoted, who loved you more than anyone else ever had.

“Was that too much?” He blushed, the hint of pink on his cheeks as his six eyes flickered with uncertainty.

“No way,” you said, your voice tender. You reached up to cradle his face, feeling the weight of his breath, the softness of his lips as they quivered beneath your touch. “You’re not the only one who yearns, Satoru. I daydream too.”

His smile bloomed, and he let out a relieved breath. “That’s... yes, I like that.”

“I like you,” you muttered, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek.

“Like only?” He teased with a smirk, but his eyes held a deeper meaning.

“My god, you're impossible...” You gave a dramatic sigh before playfully nudging him.

He laughed boyishly and, before you knew it, flipped you both over. His long legs tangled with yours as he settled you atop his chest, pulling the sheets over the two of you. You let him hold you close, feeling his warmth seep into your skin.

“I’m joking, shh,” he whispered. “I love you too.”

You smiled, pressing a kiss to his sternum. “I’m relieved you’re okay now... you seem like your old self again.”

He sighed deeply, his fingers gently twirling a lock of your hair. “It still bothers me... I feel like I could’ve done something.”

You placed a hand over his chest, right above his heart, where you could feel the steady rhythm. “You can’t change everything, Satoru.”

“I’m the—”

“Tsk tsk tsk. No, you’re not the only one who tried,” you interrupted, looking up at him. “There was me, Shoko, Yaga... we all tried talking to him, but Suguru made up his mind long before he let himself go like that.”

Satoru’s brows furrowed. “You talked to Suguru?”

“Yeah.” You nodded; voice soft. “I didn’t think you’d wanna know... It might’ve hurt you.”

“No, no,” Satoru interrupted, his grip tightening around your waist, his face etched with concern. “That’s not what this is about. I just don’t trust him with you. He could’ve hurt you to get back at me.”

“Why would he do that?” you frowned, confused. “It’s Suguru. He wouldn’t. We were friends too.”

Satoru bit his lip, his gaze distant. “I said some... provoking things to him. I was pissed and hurt. But that’s no excuse. I wasn’t thinking straight.”

Silence hung in the air for a moment, the weight of unspoken words settling between you both.

“Oh,” you whispered, your heart aching.

“Yeah, oh,” he muttered, breathing out a long sigh, his face softening with regret.

The silence between you both lingered, heavy with the weight of unspoken words. You could feel Satoru’s heart beating steadily under your cheek, but there was a subtle tension in the air that still hadn’t quite dissipated.

He sighed, shifting slightly as if to pull you even closer, his breath warm against your hair. “I don’t want to feel like I’ve failed him... but at the same time, I can’t change what happened. I can’t change what I said.”

You shifted, pulling yourself up enough to meet his eyes. His gaze was raw, vulnerable, and you could see the inner conflict playing out in the flicker of his six eyes. You reached up, gently brushing a lock of hair from his face, and pressed a soft kiss to his forehead.

“Satoru,” you whispered, your voice steady, “you didn’t fail him. You’re not the reason he made those choices. You’re... you’re only human, Satoru.”

He scoffed lightly, the humor in his voice strained. “I know I’m human, but it doesn’t make me feel any less responsible.”

“Then don’t,” you said, the conviction in your voice unwavering. “You’re allowed to feel what you feel, but don’t carry that burden alone. You have me. You always will.”

Satoru’s eyes softened, and for a brief moment, the boyish grin that usually danced on his lips returned. But this time, it was different—more tender, more real. “Yeah? I’ll always have you?”

“Always,” you whispered, your voice breaking slightly as you reached for him again, threading your fingers through his.

His hand found yours, squeezing it tightly. The weight of everything between you seemed to shift, and as you lay there, tangled in the sheets and in each other, you felt a fleeting sense of peace settle over both of you.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you,” he murmured, his voice low and sincere, as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Same here,” you whispered back. “But I’m not going anywhere.”

He let out a deep breath, the tension easing as he pulled you closer once more. “I don’t deserve you.”

You smiled softly, pressing your lips to his chest again. “Stop saying that. You’re exactly what I need.”

His hand trailed from your back down to your side, his touch light and tender as it ghosted over your skin. He paused at the curve of your pelvis, his fingers tracing a small, delicate beauty mark shaped like a heart. The sensation was soft, deliberate, and when you looked up to meet his eyes, you saw them soften even further, filled with a warmth that made your heart flutter.

“You know, I’ve always loved this,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “It’s like a little piece of you that’s just... perfect.”

Your breath caught in your throat at the sincerity in his words, his fingertips continuing to trace the small mark, as if committing it to memory.

“You always find a way to make me feel special,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion.

“Because you are special,” he said softly, leaning down to kiss the top of your head, his lips lingering in your hair. “I love you, you know that?”

You smiled, the tenderness in his touch making your chest tighten with affection. “I love you too, Satoru. Always.”

His hand stayed there, resting gently over the heart-shaped mark, as he held you close, and for a long moment, neither of you spoke. You simply lay there, wrapped in each other’s warmth, knowing that in this shared quiet, everything was okay.

“I’m never letting you go,” he whispered into your hair.

And you smiled, knowing without a doubt that, for better or worse, you were both exactly where you needed to be.

Until you weren’t.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

You were scared, hiding behind a rock while a lifeless body of one of your comrades lay next to you—his arm severed brutally, torn from his body and laid a few inches away from him. He was just a kid, sixteen. The higher-ups had drafted him to join the J.S.T.F. because of his minimal cursed energy—and because he was foreign. Thailand, wasn’t it? You could hardly remember. You were too terrified to think, too overwhelmed by the sight of the mangled body and the violent chaos unfolding around you.

The way his youthful face was so ripped apart— looking at you, taunting you— reminding you that instead of him, it could’ve been you.

In your head, a small voice says maybe it should’ve. You’re sick of these nightmarish nights when you could be studying in the labs with Shoko— how is she doing these days anyway?

You couldn’t stop the sickening wave of guilt that crashed over you. Why the hell were you even here? A special grade, trained for greater responsibilities. This wasn’t your job. You weren’t supposed to be risking your life like this. They hated you. They had always hated you. Was it because of your cursed technique? Or was it because you loved someone who could never belong to them—the prodigy of the Gojo clan?

A cold, bitter laugh slipped from your lips. Of course they hated you for loving Satoru. They never understood.

Speaking of —where the hell was Shepherd?

You hadn’t heard a word over comms, no bark of orders, no dumb dad jokes to break the tension. Was he hurt?

The air around you was thick with smoke and gunpowder, blood staining the ground beneath your hands. You could smell the metallic tang of it, could hear the wail of distant curses. The last transmission you heard over comms was a frantic voice from one of your friendlies, talking about exfiltrating—until your jet was shot down by a missile from a curse user group. You grabbed a radio, jumped out of the plane, and prayed that your cursed energy would keep you alive when you hit the ground.

Your hand instinctively moved to your side, tracing the heart-shaped beauty mark on your pelvis, trying to ground yourself. You focused on the slow, rhythmic circles of your fingers, breathing deeply, trying not to look at the blood, the bodies, the cursed things moving in the distance.

Suddenly, a shout cut through the chaos.

“Doll!”

Your body tensed as you spun around, the smoke swirling like a cruel veil, and then—his face. Shepherd. Thank god.

“Shepherd!” you gasped, reaching for him as he approached, his eyes scanning the area.

“We gotta go! Jet’s ready—missiles locked and loaded. Ground team’s north-east—let’s move!” His voice was sharp, commanding, and with no time to spare, you grasped his hand. For a moment, you glanced back at the body of the kid. Rest in peace, soldier.

Shepherd shielded you with his body as you both ran, darting between rocks and trees, trying to avoid the curses and the inferno of fighting. You could feel the bile rise in your throat, your stomach twisting with every step, but you couldn’t stop. You couldn’t waste a second. The crunch of rubble under your feet— was it rubble or dismembered body parts? you’d like to assume the former.

“GO, GO, GO!” Shepherd’s voice rang out when the jet came into view, and you scrambled to get inside. As soon as you hit the cockpit, you heard the familiar crackle of comms coming to life.

You were back in motion, you can’t let the old man down— you can’t let yourself down. Now, what’re you gonna do, reader?

“Doll, you copy?” Shepherd’s voice came through, his usual calm replaced by urgency.

“Yes, captain,” you replied shakily, trying to steady your hands as you guided the plane into taxi.

“Watcher! What’s your sitrep?” Shepherd barked, and the voice of Leslie, your fellow comrade, the one in charge of the drone your whole team likes to call the “predator”, crackled through.

“I’ve got eyes on the curse users! South sector’s been infiltrated! They’re coming for the goods!” she shouted.

You nodded, focusing as you banked the plane toward the south side of the hangar. "I’ve got eyes on target, estimate of seven people and two curses—large, grades unknown,” you reported, setting the plane to auto-pilot. It was time for you to work your magic.

In the back of the plane, the gunner’s station was ready. You slid into position, your sniper at the ready.

"Blow 'em!" came the call from the comms, a sense of excitement clear in their tone.

“Gotcha!” You locked the crosshairs on the group below, eyes steady. Just as you prepared to fire, a flash of cursed energy caught your attention. Your gaze shifted.

A tall, white-haired figure stood among them, exuding an overwhelming amount of cursed energy, far too much to ignore. You raised an eyebrow, confusion prickling at the back of your mind.

Was it an old man? how the fuck—-

Suddenly, alarms blared in the cockpit.

“INCOMING MISSILES, THREE O’CLOCK!”

“Fuck!” You scrambled, pressing the button to release flares, narrowly evading the incoming missiles. But as soon as you regained control, your eyes locked on the target once more. It was time to pull the trigger.

You hit the button, and the blast was deafening, the sound of fire and destruction echoing in the cockpit. But the satisfaction was short-lived.

“HEEEELLLL YEAAAAHHH!! KILLER!” One of your comrades screamed, one close to you since you’ve been here in this shit hole— Malachai, an american-japanese, your age. he cheered, but the adrenaline felt hollow.

You let the plane bank, the smoke of the explosion clearing. Shepherd’s voice came back through the comms, ordering you to inspect the damage. “Gunner, get a closer look—make sure they’re all dead.”

“Rog.” You steadied the sniper, letting your cursed energy flow through it like second nature, making sure everything was amplified. Through the scope, you saw the wreckage—smoke billowing and flames licking at the sky. It was a mess. But as the smoke began to clear, you froze.

There he was again—the man you saw earlier. Tall. White-haired. Standing. Unharmed. You squinted, trying to process what you were seeing.

A chill ran down your spine. No.

He turned slowly, and you could see the serene confidence in his movements. He glanced over his shoulder, as if inspecting the damage, as if nothing had happened.

It couldn’t be.

It was.

Satoru Gojo.

But you didn’t have the time to actually absorb anything— because you weren’t a sponge, actually what the hell? your plane was crashing. You missed a missile flying your way when you caught sight of your boyfriend, er— ex boyfriend? what was he now?

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Satoru wouldn’t call himself a traditional listen-and-abide sorcerer. Sometimes, he liked to do things his way—whether it got Yaga-sensei into trouble with the school directors or landed a punch on his handsome face for discipline.

“Seriously? Come back, you don’t need more issues on your plate.” Shoko’s voice echoed on the other end of the line. He could almost hear the frustration in her tone, picturing her rubbing her temples in exasperation.

“Just cover me, Ieiri—there's more going on here. I found so many dead people and cursed spirit residuals.” Satoru spoke casually, yet his eyes never stopped scanning the area. He stepped over the grotesque bodies scattered around him, their faces unrecognizable from the brutal disfiguration. The stench of death hung heavy in the air. “What if they need my help?”

“Didn’t they tell you, exorcise the special grade and come back home?!” Shoko shot back, her voice rising in frustration. It was clear she didn’t want to get pulled into his mess.

He grinned, leaning against a nearby ruined building. “Yeah—since when do I ever listen?” His tone was light, but the gravity of the situation wasn’t lost on him. He heard her sigh, the frustration giving way to the familiar undercurrent of worry she couldn’t hide. “Please?”

Satoru’s eyes darted around, feeling a shift in the air. Without missing a beat, he activated his Infinity, his senses heightened. A missile was coming straight for him. “Shoko, I’m gonna mute you for a sec—your ears might explode otherwise,” he said with a nonchalant grin, fully aware of the imminent danger.

“What—”

“Yikes,” he muttered under his breath as the missile exploded mere meters from where he stood. The shockwave rocked his body, sending dust and debris flying, the blast so powerful that the surrounding area seemed to disintegrate. His six eyes caught a grotesque, grisly sight as he looked around—people, cursed spirits, innocent or guilty, torn to pieces in the chaos.

The sound of screaming metal and crumbling concrete drowned out his thoughts for a moment.

When the smoke started to clear, Satoru casually unmuted, his voice as unfazed as ever. “My bad, missile hit.” He glanced over his shoulder, eyes still wide with awareness, but his grin was still there, almost apologetic. The force of the explosion hadn’t phased him, but the aftermath… it lingered.

“MISSILE?! Are you at a task force mission?!” Shoko screeched, her concern now unmistakable.

Satoru smirked, adjusting his sunglasses with a playful flick of his finger. “Heh. May have eavesdropped on the higher-ups after I talked to them last night. Got the password to their classified archives now~” He teased, a grin dancing on his lips.

“God, you’re such an idiot—”

CRASH!

The sudden sound shattered the lighthearted atmosphere. The ground beneath him shook, and his eyes snapped to the sky just in time to see a plane plummeting toward the earth. His heart skipped a beat. Someone was in that plane. Someone was falling out of the sky with no way to stop it.

His expression hardened instantly, the playful air gone in an instant. His gaze locked on the descending wreckage as his heart rate quickened. “Fuck, I’ll call you back!” he snapped, his voice sharp, urgent. Without waiting for a reply, he hung up, already sprinting toward the area where the plane was heading. Every instinct screamed at him—this wasn’t just another mission, not when lives were on the line.

He pushed himself harder, his cursed energy bursting forth in full force. His mind raced as he calculated his next move—I can’t let anyone die today.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

“INCOMING! GUNNER, WATCH OUT!!!!!” A sharp, panicked shout rips through the comms as missiles hurtle toward you.

“what the fu—“

There’s no time to react, no time to deploy flares. The world explodes in a blinding flash as your plane is torn apart. The force of the blast knocks you out of your seat and throws you into the chaos of flames and twisted metal.

Everything is a blur. You struggle to regain consciousness, the pain throbbing through your limbs, your body in agony as you try to stand. The wreckage surrounds you, and you hear the distant shouts of your comrades—screams, gunfire, curses—it all blends into a cacophony.

“GUNNER! ARE YOU THERE? DO YOU COPY?” The frantic voice of a comrade crackles through the comms, but your vision is still blurry. You try to focus, but your left hand doesn’t respond. You try to move it, but the pain in your wrist is unbearable. “Shit,” you hiss, your breath shallow.

“DOLL, ARE YOU THERE?!” Shepherd’s voice breaks through the static, more frantic now. You can hear the desperate edge to it. But all you can think about is how to survive—how to get to safety.

You stagger, stumbling toward where your radio dropped earlier, the ground beneath you uneven, sharp debris digging into your knees. But just as you reach out to grab it, you hear footsteps. Heavy, purposeful. Someone's close.

Your heart skips a beat. You hold your breath and freeze. The hairs on the back of your neck stand on end.

The figure approaches, but you can't make them out through the smoke, the sounds of the fight surrounding you. Your instincts flare—fight or flight.

“Stay back!” Your voice is low and fierce, a command wrapped in uncertainty, but the adrenaline has you gripping your gun again. The barrel is trained on the figure now, ready to fire. Fear tugs at your insides, but you won’t let it show. Not now.

The footsteps slow, and you see a figure in a familiar navy-blue uniform, a face you can’t place—yet something feels wrong. Everything about them looks like a blur, like a threat.

“I said stay back!” You growl, your voice shaking but sharp, the gun firm in your grip as you hold them in your sights.

The figure stops a few feet away, and you hear them breathe deeply.

“You sure you’re alright?” the voice says, and your heart stutters.

The words are gentle, cautious, but the voice... it feels too familiar.

You can’t breathe. This can’t be happening. No. Not here. Not now. You convince yourself it can’t be. It doesn’t make sense.

Satoru...?

You shake your head, blink rapidly as if to clear your vision. This wasn’t possible. The man standing before you—the man who sounded exactly like him—wasn't real. It couldn’t be. It was a curse, a shapeshifting curse that was manipulating your mind.

You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to block it out. He wasn’t real. You’d seen him through the scope just before your plane was hit. It couldn’t be him. He was supposed to be somewhere else, not here. You’d heard his voice—faint, like a whisper—before the explosion. Your senses were compromised. It was a hallucination, nothing more.

You breathe in sharply, your body shaking as the hallucination plays out in front of you. It’s not him. It can’t be him. You try to force the thought through your mind, trying to will it into your reality. It’s a shapeshifting curse—has to be. You can’t even trust your eyes right now. You’ve been through hell, and your senses have been shattered.

His presence overwhelms you as he steps closer, and for a moment, the world seems to stop. The sounds of the battle fade, and all you can hear is your own rapid breathing.

“I said stay back!” You shout again, but it comes out weak, unsure. The gun shakes in your hand, the grip slippery from the sweat of your palms. It’s just a curse, you repeat in your mind. This is just another trick. Another curse messing with your head.

Satoru stops, his blue eyes locking onto yours, full of concern. The intensity in his gaze makes your heart skip, but you refuse to acknowledge it. You can’t. This isn’t real.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he says, his voice soft, like he's trying to soothe you, but there’s an edge of desperation in his tone.

Your mind races. This isn’t real. This isn’t him. It’s a curse, it’s got to be. He’s not here. He’s not. You feel your chest tightening as panic surges. You know what’s happening: stress, injury, hallucination. It’s all just a trick, right?

You can hear Shepherd’s voice in your ear, distant, calling your name, urging you to snap out of it. But it’s all drowned by the pounding in your chest, the frantic voice in your head screaming for you to not let your guard down.

Stay alert. Stay focused. Don’t let him in. Don’t let your heart betray you.

Satoru’s eyes soften even further as he steps forward, and you instinctively take another step back, the barrel of the gun still aimed at him. He doesn’t seem to register the threat in your movements, his expression unreadable.

You’re sure now that if you don’t act fast, you’ll lose yourself to this madness. But what if you’re wrong? What if it is him? What if this is your chance to escape this nightmare? But... how could it be?

No.

It’s not him. It can’t be.

You blink, trying to clear your thoughts, but the adrenaline is so thick you can hardly breathe. The faces of the dead from the wreckage flash in your mind’s eye—your team, the strangers, the endless sea of blood. Your hand grips the gun harder, nails digging into the handle as you take aim once more.

He raises his hands slowly, like he’s trying to show you that he’s no threat. But that’s just what a curse would do, isn’t it? Pretend to be harmless, get close, and then—attack.

“You’re not real,” you say, the words barely a whisper, but they feel like they hold everything in them. It’s not him. It’s not him.

A soft chuckle escapes him, and it feels like a knife in your gut. No, no, no.

He takes another step closer. “I’m as real as you are.” His voice is soft, almost playful, but there's an undercurrent of pain—like he’s trying to reach you, but the distance between you feels too vast.

Your breath hitches, and for a moment, the hallucination threatens to dissolve. You can feel the heat of his presence, the familiarity of his voice, the way his words seem to tug at something deep inside of you. The sense of security that you so desperately want to believe in crashes into you like a tidal wave.

Shit. No. This can’t be happening.

You raise the gun again, your hand trembling as your vision blurs. It’s a curse. It’s got to be. You’re not going to fall for this. Not again. You can’t afford to.

“I—” His voice falters. “It’s really you... isn’t it?”

The way he says it makes your chest tighten, and for a split second, a crack forms in your resolve. No, don’t let him in. Don’t do this. You try to shake the thought away. It’s not real. It’s a curse playing with you.

You stagger back, unable to tear your eyes from him. "I said stay back!" Your voice is cracking now, desperation bleeding through as the weight of the situation presses in. You need to get out of here. You need to survive. “I’ll shoot!”

But the urge to drop your guard is almost unbearable. Your heart races against your will, but you can’t let it take over. It’s not real. It’s not real.

“Stay back!” You shout again, but there’s a tremor in your voice now, more fear than you want to admit. You pull the trigger. You have to. You don’t want to, but you do.

The shot rings out, but before you can process it, something strange happens. The bullet seems to freeze mid-air, suspended in a force you can’t see, like a barrier of invisible power. It’s not possible. But when the bullet falls to the ground, it’s almost as if the universe itself is mocking you.

You stare at the empty space where the bullet once was, your mind reeling. That... that wasn’t a shapeshifting curse. That wasn’t a hallucination. That was—him.

“you’d really shoot me? that hurts, baby.” he murmurs— and you can’t tell if he’s fucking smiling or just actually offended. You can’t tell shit, except from some noises— his voice, and the frankly annoying blue glow of his eyes amidst the smoke. Too bright for your poorly vision, too stimulating for you— sitting like a tall child on the broken concrete and rubble.

The moment of clarity is enough to knock the wind out of you. Your body trembles, a war of disbelief and recognition clashing in your head. But it’s too late. He steps forward again, and this time, you can’t stop him.

You hear a voice cut through the chaos—your comrade, Alec— Originally Mexican, deployed and recruited into jujutsu task force from North Africa. “RUN! RUN, NOW!”

Missiles scream overhead, and curses rush toward you, but Satoru’s hand reaches for you, and before you can comprehend it, he’s lifting you in his arms, dashing toward your comrade. You hold onto him reflexively, your arms clinging to his neck as if your very survival depends on it.

As the sounds of destruction close in around you, you can feel Satoru’s heartbeat against your own. His breath is warm against your ear as he pulls you tighter into his embrace.

“Don’t let go,” he whispers, his voice full of urgency, but there’s something more behind it—something raw and desperate.

You can feel the weight of his body against yours, the familiar presence that you once thought was lost to you forever. Your mind races. The confusion doesn’t stop, but right now, with him holding you, you can’t bring yourself to care about anything but surviving.

But the world isn’t done with you yet.

The ground shakes as missiles hit, and the screech of enemy fire fills the air, but Satoru doesn’t falter. He holds onto you, and in that moment, you’re not sure if it’s a miracle, a curse, or fate. All you know is that you’re still alive—still breathing.

The tension in the air thickens as the plane's engines roar, the world outside a blur of destruction and chaos. Satoru’s grip on you never wavers, his hold strong yet gentle, as if he’s terrified that you might slip through his fingers. The steady thump of his heartbeat against your ear is a constant reminder that, for the first time in what feels like forever, you're not alone. Even though the circumstances are far from ideal, in this moment, there’s an odd sense of comfort in the way he holds you—secure and unyielding.

"RUN, RUN, RUN!" Shepherd’s voice echoes through the comms, and the words seem to pulse through you like a lifeline. Your comrade sprints ahead, leading the charge, and you can barely catch your breath, your body still reeling from the near-miss of death. Satoru’s feet pound against the dirt as he follows, effortlessly keeping up, one arm holding you steady while the other supports your weight beneath your thigh.

The roar of engines grows louder as you near the hatch of Shepherd's plane. Your eyes are wide, and your pulse is racing. Satoru, as calm as ever, doesn’t let go, and you’re reminded again that he’s here, still here. His presence is overwhelming and undeniable, but it doesn’t stop the chaos within you. Is this real? Is this really happening?

In a blink, you’re inside the plane. The hatch slams shut with a loud clank, and the roar of the engines drowns out everything else. The three of you are on the floor of the plane, sprawled out like rag dolls, panting for air, desperate to regain some semblance of normality.

Satoru’s arm stays wrapped around you, even as Shepherd quickly pulls you from his hold. You feel a pang of loss at the sudden distance between you two, but you can’t focus on that now. Shepherd is hovering over you, inspecting your hand with a frown. The broken knuckles—shattered from the impact of the crash—are starting to swell.

“You did well,” Shepherd breathes, his voice rough with exhaustion. His calloused fingers brush over your hand, making you wince. “My god, look at your hand.”

“OW,” you whine, pulling your hand away instinctively, but he doesn’t stop, his touch gentle but firm as he checks for further damage. "Ow," you repeat, a little softer this time, as he inspects the fracture.

He smiles grimly. “I’ll fix ye’ right up, but ye’ did good—we all did. Most of ‘em are dead, but most importantly, those holy transcripts ‘n cursed objects are safe in the ground team's helo.”

A breath of relief escapes you, the weight of your failure and the mission’s horrors lifting just a little. Your shoulders sag in exhaustion, and you slump against the side of the plane, trying to steady your breath. You hadn’t even realized how hard you were holding it in, but now the adrenaline is starting to wear off, leaving you drained and battered.

But before you can let your mind rest, you remember—Satoru. You blink, as if seeing him for the first time, and your heart skips a beat.

The reality hits you all over again.

Alec who had warned you earlier—the one who had been your voice of reason in the chaos—glares at Satoru with suspicion. “Who’re you?”

Satoru’s expression falters slightly as he blinks, clearly caught off guard. “You… you don’t know who I am?” His voice is laced with surprise, and he looks to you for confirmation, but you can’t provide it. You can’t make sense of any of this. You can’t even think straight. You’re still reeling from the fact that he’s even here.

Alec’s glare hardens, and Shepherd glances at both of you, his hand hovering over his gun, just in case. The tension in the small, cramped plane is thick, every second stretching as if time itself is holding its breath.

“No?” Alec repeats, narrowing his eyes. “You an enemy? Part of them?”

Satoru’s face falls into a serious expression, his posture stiffening. “No! No, I’m a student... at Jujutsu High,” he explains quickly, tugging at the navy-blue uniform jacket he wears as if it should be enough proof. “Fifth year, I had a mission around here—and heard all this chaos... so I came to help.”

You watch him closely, your heart pounding in your chest as his words sink in. He was close by. What was even close by? was this even Japanese territory? you don’t even know at all— you just seem to black out during these ‘clean-up’ missions, you fail to remember your name sometimes. Shepherd knocks you with a smack to the head to help you.

You don’t know what to feel. You want to scream at him, ask him what the hell he’s doing here, but you’re too exhausted, too bewildered by everything that’s happened. All you know is that this situation is becoming even more surreal by the second.

You look at him, your eyes softening, yet still full of shock and disbelief. “You found me,” you whisper to yourself, a barely audible sound lost in the cacophony of the plane’s hum.

His gaze softens, and for the briefest moment, the world outside the plane fades away. He’s here. He found you. Is it really him?

Shepherd, sensing the moment of tension between you two, pats the comrade on the shoulder, his voice firm. “Relax. Kid’s no harm.”

Alec gapes, “B-but— gener— I mean, captai— Shepherd, how would you know?!— he just popped out of nowhere!” his hand tightening on his rifle— staring at Satoru. Having no idea he could get hollow purpled at any mom—

Shepherd exhales through his nose gruffly, rubbing his beard and narrowing his eyes at Satoru. “I can feel it.”

Deadpanned— thats what Alec was, “Feel it— yeah, wow, so explanatory.”

Shepherd grunts and points at the button— brooch, whatever it was on the Jujutsu student uniform. “we work for them— he’s a sorcerer. Now, how ‘bout ye get yer ass in the damn cockpit and contact watcher— gimme reports on ground team— if everyone exfiltrated, ye know the drill.”

“Yes, captain.” Alec sighs, prancing into the cockpit.

Satoru exhales sharply, the weight of the situation finally hitting him. A sigh of relief escapes his lips, his shoulders relaxing as the truth of his innocence sets in. He runs a hand through his white hair, glancing back at you once more, the words still hanging in the air between you two.

The silence feels too heavy, too unspoken, as if something else—something unsaid—lingers in the space between your gazes.

And then, in that silent exchange, the realization hits.

Found you, baby.

His eyes speak more than words ever could, heavy with unspoken emotions—fear, relief, longing, and most of all, the ache of not knowing. But now, it’s clear. The journey to find you is over, and for the first time in a long while, he lets himself believe that maybe—just maybe—there’s a chance for you both after all.

next.

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