#so nervous about what tonight will bring

[orbitganymede]

self proclaimed guard dog simon who’s never held a conversation with you or even really tried to interact with you at all. he had caught a glimpse of you out on the town and traced you back to your current job, lucky for him, on base. you’re a little freaked out, this mammoth of a man randomly shows up one day and pulls a chair up to your desk, takes out a book and just hangs out for a few hours? even leaves an extra lighter for his cigs in your pen holder. introductions were a quick back and forth on names and that’s about it, sometimes he comments on your clothes or jewelry, he saw your dainty little chain on your neck and purchased an S charm the next day, left it on your desk and that was that. you really shouldn’t be okay with this but he’s kinda intriguing, and the guy that has the office next to yours hasn’t bothered you in weeks, something you’ve been begging for mentally, so really what’s simon doing wrong? he sometimes even brings you a stray pudding cup from the mess, how sweet.

but what really gets you is when you’ve just got in your car, setting your things down, buckling your seat belt, the works, but simon slides in your passenger seat, gives you a look (his eyes look so pretty in the sunlight) and tells you to “take us home”, you’re nervous to say the least, you heard what happened to janet in admin when she told him one of his stacks of paperwork was filed wrong, that she wasn’t gonna take his next one until he fixed his mistake (she’d left crying, cursing his name to high hell, and asking for a transfer) so really what choice do you have.

and maybe he walks into your place, goes straight for where you always store your remote and turns on the channel you like to watch, almost as if he’s seen this routine before, he even asks what face mask you’re gonna do tonight, you wonder how he guessed that you do a face mask every friday night (he suggests the blueberry charcoal one, says it makes your skin glowy (he did not use the word glowy)) you shrug and go on with your nightly tasks, make dinner, do dishes, shower. but what actually makes you stop in your tracks is when he walks out of the bathroom, still steamed up from his shower, butt ass naked and asks you what your favorite position is, pet.

[neigepomme]

cw // NSFW. caleb loves when you control him.

caleb's a big man — in more ways than one. however, when he's near you? just an oversized ragdoll for you to manhandle as you please.

the first time he realized that, you were pointing at something for him to see. unfortunately, his attention was on something else, and after losing your patience, you tug at his necklace for him to lean down.

poor guy almost came on the spot. the action wasn't even remotely sexual, but the fact that you felt comfortable enough to boss him around, control him? oh that did caleb in.

somehow, you also caught on. his nervous smile and red ears were telltale signs that he was impacted, and boy, it was bound to be lots of fun for you.

so you tried it out more often. just some inconspicuous stuff to gauge his reactions! no harm in discovery, right?

when he was leaving for work, you'd roughly grab his face with one hand and bring him down to your level to press a kiss on his puckered lips. 

“have a lovely day at work, baby. go get 'em colonel!”

you spoke with the sweetest tone you could muster, and caleb's flushed face and lovestruck smile was a delight to see so early in the morning. wishing you a good day as well, he heads over to the fleet — only to find out he has a hard-on. caleb deals with it in his office, before heading out to train the cadets (who realize their ever so scary colonel is capable of sporting a smile).

the next instance was when you two were out and about in a supermarket, picking out the ingredients for hot pot tonight. you stare at caleb when an older gentleman heads your way with his cart, wobbling around — and a mischievous idea quickly forms in your head. you quickly tug caleb's arm, pressing his body against yours when you flash him a smile, “oops. a cart was headed your way. ”

the pilot can't maintain eye contact, his pants suddenly feeling way tighter than usual. you were going to be the death of him if you kept going, but caleb would be lying if he said that dying to your hands wasn't the best way to go.

the time that cemented it in both of your minds, though, was when you were straddling his lap and making out with him on the living room couch. caleb was taking over your mouth, kissing you like a starved man, and you desperately needed to catch your breath — so you tugged on his hair, hard, in order to separate him from your mouth.

his hips bucked up into yours when you did that, and as the realization hit him, a vicious red blush took over his face.

“fuck pips, you can't keep doing that.”

funnily enough, his words didn't exactly match his actions. when you tugged a little harder in response, his hands grabbed onto your hips and dragged you against his, your clothed core rubbing against his growing bulge. you moan against his ear when a sound between a whimper and a groan comes out of his mouth.

“hmm, but i think you love it, don't you?”

that might be the understatement of the century, caleb thinks. he doesn't just love it, he adores it when you play rough with him — so teasing and unfair, it makes him want to push your buttons, so you keep on doing it.

and that's exactly what he plans on doing when he throws you over his shoulder and starts walking towards the bedroom.

“i do. love it when you control me.”

🍎 pomme's notes — h.. hey.... alexa put on control me by colde....

[simpforboys]

surprise!

drew starkey x fem!singer!reader

summary: ever since the reader started blowing up, all the interviews and promotions that would ask her who her celebrity crush is, she always had the same answer. so when Jimmy Fallon invites her on his show, he might have a surprise in store…

warnings: fluff!! second hand embarrassment, reader gushes about Drew, she’s just a fangirl at heart

‘perfume’ by del water gap mentioned <3

part two , part three, part four

2020

“Who’s your celebrity crush?”

“Drew Starkey, he plays Rafe in Outer Banks.”

“Do you have a celebrity crush?

“Yeah, Drew Starkey from Outer Banks.”

“Are there any people you would hope to collab with or meet?”

“Definitely Drew Starkey from Outer Banks.”

2021

“Last year you said multiple times Drew Starkey is your celebrity crush, is this still true?”

“Yeah, he’s still my main one.”

“Are there any guys you’re interested in?”

“My dream guy is Drew Starkey, if that’s what you mean.”

“What’s your type in a man?”

“Umm… probably Drew Starkey.”

2022

“Update us on all the boy drama! Anyone interesting?”

“Just waiting for Drew Starkey.”

“You look stunning! Are you here with anyone tonight?”

“No, I’m not.”

“Your crush around Drew Starkey, is that still a thing?”

“It still is… have you seen his new movie ‘Hellraiser’?”

2023

“Your new EP just released, are any of the songs about Drew Starkey?”

“Not on this one, no. Maybe the next one.”

“Are you seeing anyone? Has Drew Starkey called?”

“No, not yet. Maybe next year.”

“Have you seen season three of ‘Outer Banks’ yet?”

“Yes, oh my god! Drew looked so good.”

2024

“Your new song ‘Perfume’ is an absolute hit! Is it about Drew Starkey?”

“Omg, no, but it should’ve been.”

“You’ve quickly risen to fame! Has Drew Starkey noticed you yet?”

“Unfortunately, no. He’s probably hiding.”

Ever since your career started, in every single interview you get the question regarding celebrity crushes, the answer was always the same.

Drew Starkey.

It became a known meme revolving you and your fans, along with the media. Practically every interview just loved to teased you about your known celebrity crush.

Your popularity rose more in 2023 to 2024, so, when Jimmy Fallon reached out to you to have you on his show, your agency immediately agreed.

Standing behind the curtain wearing a tight brown suit, the pants wide-leg. Black boots were your choice of footwear, your makeup done perfectly to match the outfit.

“Ladies and gentlemen, bring your hands together for Y/n L/n!”

When Jimmy announced your name, you came out from behind the curtain, a big smile on your face as you waved to the audience.

Shaking hands and hugging some of the crew members before you finally hugged Jimmy, settling down in the blue chair.

“How are you doing tonight?” Jimmy asks with a warm smile.

“I’m doing good! Pretty nervous to be honest, this is my first talkshow.” You answered sincerely.

The audience clapped and Jimmy sunk back in his seat a little more.

“Well, I’m glad to be your first one! So, your new song ‘Perfume’ recently came out, congratulations on 200 million streams.”

“Thank you so much, really.” Your hands were shaking as you fidgeted with the brown fabric on your knee, one leg crossed over the other.

“So, you’ve been singing since 2020?” Jimmy asks.

“Yeah, I started posting videos on Tik Tok but my career really took off at the end of 2023 and now here we are.” You smile, the whole experience still so surreal.

“Your voice is phenomenal, seriously. I’ll need to have you come back and sing on the show for us.” Jimmy says, causing the audience to erupt into cheers.

You laughed a little, nodding your head. “Of course, anytime.”

Jimmy continued to talk to you for a few more minutes about your career, the conversation flowing smoothly as you cracked some nervous jokes.

“So, I have to ask, Y/n. Since your career began you’ve said your celebrity crush is Drew Starkey, can you tell us more about this?”

You felt your face get a little warm as you shifted in your seat, an anxious smile on your lips.

“I dunno, I guess I’ve just always found him attractive. He’s insanely talented and just seems like a very genuine soul.” You say sheepishly, avoiding looking at the camera.

“He’s also becoming more and more popular right now, with season four of ‘Outer Banks’ that came out in October and November along with his new movie ‘Queer’.” Jimmy adds on.

“Yeah, I’m a pretty big fan so I’ve been following along with it. I’m very proud of him, in like a supportive-fan way.” You say, making the audience laugh at the last part.

You were completely oblivious to Jimmy looking behind you, motioning with his hand underneath his desk.

“So it’s not just his looks?” Jimmy teases.

“I mean, he’s a very beautiful man. He looks good with any haircut especially that mullet he had last year — and oh my god, he just looked so good in season four of ‘Outer Banks.’ Plus he has these big biceps that just bulge out of any shirt.”

You hadn’t even realized you were gushing over your celebrity crush until you finally caught yourself, hearing the audience laughing.

“Oh, gosh. You are really into him, huh?” Jimmy teases.

“What would you do if he was standing right behind you?” The host asks.

If you weren’t so nervous from being on a national talkshow you probably would’ve understood his message.

But your brain caused you to miss it, being as oblivious as ever.

“Probably pass out.” You answered, hearing the audience giggle more. Jimmy had an amused grin on his face.

“Please don’t pass out.”

Your posture immediately straightened, body tense as you stood up from the seat.

Turning around, your heart dropped to your stomach when you saw Drew fucking Starkey standing there.

The audience’s laughter grew as well as Jimmy’s, clearly satisfied with the surprise.

Your hands went to cover your mouth, face feeling hot like you had a fever. You just gushed about this man practically to his face.

“Hi, Y/n. I’m Drew.”

You couldn’t respond, just in pure shock as you stare at the tall man.

Drew also looked a little sheepish, his cheeks pink as he grinned at you.

“Did you— did you hear everything?” You finally managed to choke out.

“Maybe.” Drew chuckled, scratching the side of his neck.

“How do you feel after hearing all that, Drew?” Jimmy chuckles.

“I’m honored,” Drew replies.

You hated the way he fucking said that and the way you understood that reference.

Drew held his hand out for you to shake, but your heart was beating too fast and your brain was turning into nervous mush that you just embarrassed yourself in front of your dream man.

“Are you going to shake his hand? Hug him?” Jimmy chuckled.

“I’m… scared.” You murmured, the audience swooning and giggling over your shyness.

“Can I hug you?” Drew asked.

Stunned, your head slowly nodded. His strong arms wrapped around your body, your forehead resting against his shoulder.

You couldn’t even hug him back properly, just too much in shock. He smelt like cologne and it made your knees weak.

“I love your new song, by the way.” Drew murmured softly in your ear.

“Yeah?” You whisper, feeling like an idiot for the way you were reacting in front of him.

Drew just nods and hums, soothingly caressing your back in an effort to calm you down.

“Ladies and gentlemen, give it up one last time for Y/n L/n and Drew Starkey!” Jimmy has to end the segment.

The audience cheers as Drew continues to embrace you.

He had known about you for the last few months, having a few of your songs in his playlists.

He was just constantly busy so he never really got the chance to reach out, but when Jimmy’s team contacted him about surprising you on the show, he was excited.

And nervous.

“Sorry about surprising you like that.” Jimmy comes over, causing you and Drew to finally pull away.

“You gave me trust issues for talkshows now.” You said jokingly, finally calming down a bit.

Drew and Jimmy both laughed softly.

The film crew told you and Drew that the commercial break would be ending soon so to step off stage.

You did your signature on the wall dedicated to Jimmy’s guests, feeling familiar blue eyes gazing at you.

After thanking each crew member and shaking hands or hugging, an assistant pointed you and Drew towards where a car will take you both back to your perspective hotels.

“You ready?” Drew asked you.

You nodded, feeling nervous due to the fact that you were about to be alone in the back of a car with your celebrity crush, other than the driver in the front.

Drew opened the door for you as you climbed in, hyperaware of how he slid in behind you onto the leather seat.

It was quiet for a few moments, you nervously fidgeting with the rings on your fingers.

“So… you like my new song?”

You finally manage to choke out.

Drew smiled softly, turning his head to look at you. He was still a little flustered at everything that happened, but also very amused.

“I do, yeah. Are you going to shoot a music video for it?” Drew asked.

You nod, making eye contact with him.

“Yeah, my idea is to tell a story about these two lovers who move to like a quieter part, I was thinking either the forest or a desert, that live in poorer conditions but are completely happy and content because they have each other. I want it to be full of love, so kissing, affection, a sex scene.”

You rambled on to him, your eyes falling to your hands as you played with your rings.

“Oh, wow. That sounds cool as fuck.” Drew murmured, also watching your hands fidget. He thought it was cute.

“I’ve had the idea in my head for a few years, actually. I started writing ‘Perfume’ in like… 2021? So, I just want everything to be perfect.”

You added on, looking back at him. He had his left leg crossed over his knee, his body language towards you.

“Well… if you need a male costar, I would love to do it.” He gave you a smile.

A small grin curled onto your lips, stomach hurting at realization of what he just implied.

“Yeah?”

He nodded, licking his lips.

“Mhm. I told you, I love the song. Plus, your idea sounds amazing, and if you want me to, I would love to be apart of it.”

You nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat when it finally hit you that Drew fucking Starkey wanted to be your on-screen lover.

“You’re not just fucking with me, right?”

You had to ask, blurting it out of your nervous mouth.

Drew just snorted, shaking his head in amusement. “No, I’m not.”

“Okay… I’ll have my manager reach out to your’s about details for when we start shooting. I appreciate it a lot.”

You were unaware the car finally came to a stop, parked outside your hotel, fans and security guards waiting for you.

“Yeah, I’ll definitely be there. Have a good night, Y/n.”

Drew smiled at you, your heart fluttering.

“You too, Drew.”

You got out of the car, letting the security guards guide you inside the hotel. You tried your best to take photos or sign autographs for your dedicated fans, something Drew admired as he watched from the back of the SUV.

By the time you finally got back into your hotel room and kicked off your boots, you started taking off your jewelry.

Flopping down onto the bed, you grabbed your phone.

It felt like your heart dropped to your stomach when one notification specifically caught your eye.

@/drewstarkey started following you back

[madamechrissy]

Arranged Husband Sylus - headcanons/taglist

pairings - Sylus x f! reader

MDNI- NSFW- You are arranged married to the powerful Sylus, just how will that go? Arranged marriage trope, a lil bit enemies to lovers, oral (f recieving) light angst, explicit sex, Sylus calling you Kitten, consent asking ofccc, talking you through it, getting fucked on his desk, getting 'tied up', breed kink - heavy breed kink- going to be part of a much larger fic <3 This wc- 3k

This is my first LADS fic ahhh I'm a little nervous!! Sylus won my poll, so here is a teaser of what will be a full long oneshot fic. Comment if you wanna be tagged!

Arranged Husband Sylus can't take just how beautiful you are when you step up in that pretty silk white dress, he had seen a picture of his bride to be, but in person you make his heart race. You meet his gaze, and you can hardly stand how beautiful he was, beautiful and dangerous, the leader of Onychinus, your groom to be. He stands tall and elegant in that blood red suit of his, matching those insane eyes. You eye his shoulder, where a mechanical crow sits, blinking in confusion, clutching your bouquet of flowers in your hands while you step down the altar, marrying a man you've never actually met.

Arranged Husband Sylus glares when you say 'what's a crow doing here?' offended you'd dare to refer to his crow in such a way! He already doesn't like your attitude, even though you're drop dead gorgeous, when you step in front of him, in a room scattered with just a few people, who have made today happen. Sylus, the richest man there is, and one of the most powerful, needed the 'perfect bride' which you suppose you are on paper. But in person? 'don't disrespect Mephisto' his deep, raspy voice makes your tummy clench. 'Now, on with the wedding, you're late' you gasp at his audacity- 'I am not late, I'm on time!' 'hmm' is all you hear in response, as the two of you are soon bound, forever.

Arranged Husband Sylus does not carry you over the threshold of his beautiful mansion, no he simply opens the door, sighing and shaking his head, carrying in your suitcases and handing them to two men there, as you eye the splendid manor before you. 'follow me' he says, so unceremoniously, you do just that, while two men wearing masks observe you quietly, adding to the eerie nature of this red and black interior. You eye the ceilings, watching Mephisto fly, cawing at you as if to let you know Sylus is his, you swear that's what he's thinking, you're so distracted you bump into Sylus's chest, making his jaw clench, catching you by your bare shoulders, while your hands touch his strong chest, feeling his hearbeat increase rapidly. 'pay attention, or you'll get lost' you sigh, now he's gripping a wrist, leading you to past enormous paintings, elaborate seats, a roaring fireplace where the crow perches, pausing only to grab a bottle of wine and two glasses.

Arranged Husband Sylus soon shows you what is to be your room as well, and you gulp nervously, as what you are about to do hits you. Surely, having Sylus in bed would be nothing to complain about, he's absolutely gorgeous, but... it's for a duty. To bring him an heir, and nothing else. He surely wouldn't want this... right? you watch him while he pours two glasses, eyeing the four poster bed with the black canopy, the bearskin rugs under your now bare feet, when you take off your heels, wincing at the relief. He raises a brow at you, handing you a glass then, leaning against another ridiculous fireplace. 'How many fireplaces do you need, hmm?' he smirks at you, taking a sip of the wine, just a bit dripping down the corner of his mouth like a drop of blood, you watch his tongue lap it off, and can barely hold yourself together from it. 'you're just mad you don't have as many' you laugh then, shaking your head, sipping the wine. 'no, and let's... get on with it tonight, yes?'

Arranged Husband Sylus sputters a bit - 'get on with it?' you nod shyly, sipping wine far too quickly, making him glare. 'do you know what vintage that is, you are supposed to savor it' you gulp the rest down to his anger, licking at your own lip, making his thoughts go haywire. He was furious he'd been forced to take a bride, to 'settle down' if you will, to make heirs, but when your glaring little eyes hit him, quite like the angry kitten he describes you as, something heats up in his gut. He gulps down his now as well, eyes trailing down your body, eager to see every pretty inch, when you cross your arms under pretty breasts. 'I know what I'm here for, let's not pretend with each other, right?' you amuse him then, fuck you're... adorable, all feisty and acting as if you know what to do, when he can see your breasts rising and falling with your nerves, tempting him with every breath.

Arranged Husband Sylus arches a thin brow, smirking down at you now, murmuring - 'oh, do you know what to do tonight, Kitten?' you roll your eyes, nodding and undoing the silk ties of your gown, letting it fall and revealing the deep red lingerie underneath, momentarily making Sylus lose his mind at how delectable you look. 'I'm not a kitten, you... crow' he's laughing then, throwing his head back, before he steps closer, closer, pushing you back until your knees hit the back of the enormous bed, looming over you. His huge hands grip your waist, before he unceremoniously hoists you up, letting you bounce on the bed as he lays on top of you in mere seconds, gripping your delicate wrist with a huge hand, teeth glinting with his grin. 'you scared, kitten?' 'no! and stop... calling me that I...' he slams his lips on yours, plump and sweet from wine, shutting you up firmly.

Arranged Husband Sylus leans over you, lips parted in a sigh, watching how you look under him, lips swollen from his kisses, eyes blown out from just that. He leans up on an arm and a knee now, hand trailing across your breast, gripping it and eliciting a slutty little moan, making him ache for you. 'wear this just f'me, hmm?' he's brushing a thumb over your nipple through the thin lace, before leaning down, tongue lapping at it. 'Ah!' your cry of pleasure makes him harder, need gnawing at him for his new bride, shocking him with the intensity, while his hand trails your stomach, making it tense before it hits your lacy panties. 'fuck, you're that soaked already, sweetie?' you're dripping and stick when he peels them down your thighs, slowly, bit by bit, exhaling as he sees your perfect cunt. 'she's pouring out, isn't she?' 'n-no she's... not I ... ah!' he's grinning. 'how cute...'

Arranged Husband Sylus barely fingers your slick cunt, sucking your juices off one of them, defined cheeks hollowing with the action. 'you taste so sweet for such a brat' you want to pop off another remark, but you're too sensitive, gripping his expensive dress shirt, wishing it were off him suddenly. 'we should... consummate this, get it over with, right? my duty...' you murmur, and he pauses, shaking his head then. 'your duty... yet you're this wet, tsk... are you sure that's what this is?' you blink rapidly when he kisses down your stomach, your pussy so wet just his finger flicking up and down it is embarrassingly loud. 'listen to her' his sharp teeth are nipping your inner thigh, you scream out. 'Sylus... you're... we...' your mind can't comprehend the desire filling you. 'Can't speak, can you? from just this? ah... thought you had a little more fight, so pathetic already f'me?' you're scowling as he grins like a smug jerk, and you want to call him that, but you are at loss for words.

Arranged Husband Sylus who practically purrs like a damn cat himself when he spreads your thighs in a fluid motion, chuckling a bit as they tremble, his fingers pressing into the plush of your thighs, breath ghosting over your eager cunt. 'W-what are you...' Sylus looks up at you with those crimson eyes, so dilated they're black, silvery lock falling just so over his brow. 'I like to play with my food, just a bit sweetie' you blink a bit then, 'your food!?' he's smirking as he laps his tongue on your inner thigh, your hips jerk up for more without you even knowing, earning his soft, husky groan. 'yes, I enjoy to toy with my meal'

Arranged Husband Sylus swipes his long tongue up your slit then, and your hands grip his silky locks without thinking, nails pressing against his scalp, making him throb for you. 'Kitten does have claws, huh?' your answer gets stuck in your throat and turns into a throaty moan as he spreads your lips, peering at the little hole drooling arousal, his breaths heavier and heavier. 'w-what are you... d-doing?' he smiles against your pussy now, teeth right against your entrance, shoving your thighs even further apart - 'just as I said, playing with my food before I eat it'

Arranged Husband Sylus devours your pussy then, drinking you up with the lewdest noises, he's pressing his cock against that elegant bed spread under his slacks, precum dripping from his reddened tip while you pour all over his face. Your hands grip even tighter, while he laps at your cunt, fucking his tongue into your soppy entrance, while you scream out, forgetting just who he is and who you are even. This is not what you ever heard of, of being married and baring his heir, when his glowing red eyes shoot up at you, and his tastebuds delve against your gummy walls, you feel it, pressure building, tummy tensing, he sees you holding back, leaning up now. 'don't fight it, kitten, let go.

Arranged Husband Sylus watches as your eyes roll back, slipping two long, elegant fingers deep in your cunt and curling, his other hand pressing down on your tummy, picturing filling you, making him fucking feral. 'That's it, don't fight it- bratty kitten' he's curling those fingers right on your spot, and when he flicks his tongue on your engorged clit, you're gushing all over, pulsing around his digits when you shatter, orgasm rushing through you. You blink, gasping and disoriented when he has your wrists bound by red, swirling energy above your head. 'you're claws hurt just a bit, and I'm not finished yet. Look how much you came for me, you can listen' you're bound under him then, when he shoves your thighs up further. 'Too much! mnh!'

Arranged Husband Sylus can't stop his grin when you cum again with a mere few flicks of his tongue, and you eye him between your thighs, flushing when you realize his chin is glistening from you. 'So easy, aren't you?' you scoff, shaking your head and he parts your lips, just breathing on your clit and watching it twitch, feeling you writhe in pleasure under him, moaning. 'Oh... g-get up here!' he's smirking as he slides up your body, still in his damn slacks, pressing his thick length against you. 'Need something, kitten?' you glare, just making you cuter really, grinding up your hips now 'w-we need to make heirs... we...' Sylus is off you now, making you feel so empty, and stands suddenly, eyeing your naked body longingly, releasing your wrists, still fully fucking clothed damn near, just his jacket gone. 'Sylus, aren't we supposed to-' he shakes his head, walking over to his night stand, picking up that glass of red wine.

Arranged Husband Sylus takes a sip, as you try to compose yourself, and he's got the smuggest smirk on his face. 'We'll do that when you want to, not because you have to' his words make you blink rapidly, heart still racing. You want to. But he's already bending down, tilting your chin up just a bit, sipping that glass with his plump lips. 'Open, sweetie, let's see if you can listen' you do as he commands, and he sips the wine, pouring it down into your mouth as he kisses you, you drink the sweet red wine down your throat, mixing with your own taste, your thighs clench when the tall man straightens, brushing your hair back. 'I have to be gone for a week, I expect you to have my answer when I come back' you frown now, asking- 'answer?' - when he heads to the door, heels clicking on the polished marble, turning his head to look back at you. 'mmhmm'

Arranged Husband Sylus has Kieran and Luke, the two giant masked men, constantly watching you the week he's gone, if you have to leave the house, they follow you, if you have to do anything, they're there. At first annoying the shit out of you, eventually you tolerate them, asking sly questions about just who Sylus was. You angrily call him - hearing his sigh as he picks up - 'What is it?' you scoff at him. 'So friendly' Sylus rolls his red eyes. 'I'm in a bit of a bind, can this be brief?' You roll your own eyes now. 'Why are these two bozos following me everywhere!?' You hear their indignation and Sylus' chuckle 'Hey!' they both cross their arms at you, you just stick out your tongue. 'because, you're my wife, and you need protection' 'I can protect myself-' Sylus hangs up, leaving you to glare... but you find yourself touching your clit that night, remembering his mouth.

Arranged Husband Sylus comes back and is in his pristine, ostenaceous office, aglow with soft lights as he sits at his enormous desk, bent over elaborate screens he's touching. His gaze meets yours, and you see his soft gray shirt shows a body you're dying to see more of, making your throat dry. 'did you decide, kitten?' he asks softly, for once just a little less smug, standing and leaning over the desk, you shut the office door with a click, heart racing as you step up to him. 'yes, I have'

Arranged Husband Sylus has everything shoved off his desk moments later, his shirt slid half up his body, your dress shoved over your hips, kissing you eagerly over and over. 'are you sure?' he asks again, when you're stroking his long, veiny cock, pussy drooling down the polished magogony beneath you. 'I want it' at your words he presses his tip inside you, so deep, you're gasping as you feel it, stretching and filling you, when his hand entwines with yours over your head, he fucks you against that desk, you're spasming around his girthy length. 'f-fuck... feel her, she's taking me so well, huh?' he's whispering, crying out in your ear when he's buried his face against your neck, your nails dig into his back, so fucked out already you can't function, whining out, head slamming the desk screaming - 'Sylus!'

Arranged Husband Sylus fucks into you harder and harder, until he finally busts so deep in you, that it coats every inch of your walls, breathing heavy as he lays over you, so much unspoken between the two of you. That night he's in your room, fucking you again, this time with you on your tummy, wrapping his long arms around you, fucking one load of cum out, just to pour another, and you're seeing stars, all you can keep whispering is his name, over and over. The next morning you're riding him on top, his hands on your waist, tits bouncing against his face, even at breakfast in the immaculate banquet hall, he's lapping your pussy up, murmuring 'kitten' ignoring the servants who walk in and out, merely making him more apt to feast on your perfct cunt, while he drinks his own cum out of you.

Arranged Husband Sylus makes you both question... is this more? Is it convenience, amazing sex... but when his ruby eyes glow while he's got you folded in a mating press, and he's insane and feral, the two of you falter. What is this feeling? Sylus can't take it, how sexy you are bent in half 'so small compared to me, huh? could break you, sweetie' you're past trying to care, to glare or make remarks, Sylus is huge and his heavy weight just makes you feel so small, helpless, while his cock splits you apart. 'ready for me to breed you, huh? fill you up-make you so full of me?' you're clinging to him, cunt drooling down the sheets, wet sounds and skin smacking filling Sylus' bed chamber. 'I asked a question, sweetie' you're biting your lip now, making him pause, chuckling 'you just don't listen, do you?' gripping your throat and letting your thighs fall. But the words that threaten to spill - that you think you're in love- are cut off by his brutal kiss, while he muffles his own declarations.

Could there be more between you both, or are you bound by your duty?

THIS WAS LONG AF for a damn preview - my bad aha I got a little carried awayyy- I hope you all enjoyed and plz comment if you wanna get tagged in the actual fic (gonna be a VERY long oneshot)

PERM tag crew - @alt--er--love @indiewritesxoxo @nanasukii28 @cuntphoric @loafteaw @n1vi @miizuzu @beachaddict48 @honeybunnnnie @re-tired-succubus @gojosukuna2268 @waterfal-ling @1brii @wise-fangirl @moncher-ire @orikixx @uhnosav @baepsays @designerpvssy @orixxxana @airandyeah @nina-from-317 @evelynxxo @naammiii @soyokosuguru @espresso1patronum @tomboy-disaster @iam-souless @lanii-i @cristy-101 @doeeyestoji  @cvixmei @mutsu422 @ivyvenus333 @g00seg1rl @suki91 @naomi-main @fairygardenprincesss @estrellaexists @theonlyjuggernaut @huntyhuntycunty @lovelockdownff

[chucklechampion]

ah heem heem......

[hairmetal666]

Steve goes to a gay club for the first time alone. He and Robin, they'd talked about it since moving to Chicago, but every time they made plans he got cold feet.

But on a random, rainy Saturday with Robin back home in Hawkins, he decides fuck it, puts on his sluttiest jeans and polo, and goes to the damn club. He's sick of being nervous--he's going to make out with a guy for the first time tonight.

The club is crowded, loud, sweaty, the energy a pulsing wave. He's overwhelmed immediately, but it's invigorating. He pushes towards the bar, orders a beer, then cozies himself against the nearest wall.

He sips his drink and watches beautiful men dance and kiss and play, and he wants to be part of it, get out there, find his own person to get close to but--

What if none of this is for him? He feels out of place in his clothes, with his hairstyle, an old version of himself that doesn't belong in this world.

There's a swell of sound at the bar, and he glances over, expecting drunks or fighting. Instead, he sees a guy who makes his plans to leave slip straight from his mind.

He's unlike any other person there, even within his group. Long, curly hair, visible tattoos, ripped black jeans, a faded black t-shirt under a big leather jacket. He moves with purpose and grace, obviously uncaring about fitting in.

Steve can't stop watching him, transfixed. He buys another beer, settles back against his wall. He knows it's weird, but can't bring himself to care. Not when it's helping him feel more comfortable in his own skin.

The guy, he's vibrant, the brightest spot, his laughter reaching Steve even over the pounding music.

He's beautiful.

The lights flash, illuminating his face and recognition hits Steve like a fist. It's Eddie Munson, former freak of Hawkins High.

Steve's spine straightens, chest tightening. He can't believe--I mean there were rumors about Eddie in school, but he's here, right now, in Chicago, and Steve--Steve--

He abandons the remains of his beer, rushing out the door.

---

Steve goes back the next night.

He doesn't mean to; didn't have any plans to do it, but the clock turns to 9 and he pulls on the same slutty jeans, this time with an old blue t-shirt a size too small.

It's not because Eddie could be there again, he reassures himself as he shows the bouncer his ID. It's not like he wants to see him or has been thinking about him nonstop. No, it's because tonight's the night he finally makes a move. He needed a test run to find his footing, but now--

Eddie's at the bar. His hair is pulled up, loose tendrils around his face. No jacket this time; the rolled up sleeves of his black t-shirt showing off his wiry muscles, the swirling ink of his tattoos. Something low and hot clenches in Steve's stomach.

There's no way he's going to be preoccupied with Munson tonight. He came here to flirt and dance and maybe get lucky, and he'll ignore Eddie. He will.

Steve orders a beer, sits at the bar this time, his eyes lingering on black ink and pale skin. No matter how hard he tries, he can't seem to tear his eyes away from the ease and assurance Eddie moves with. He's so unafraid to take up space, it's intoxicating.

He loses track of Munson when he orders a second drink, his face no longer immediately visible in the crowd. Disappointment sinks his stomach until a voice to his left says, "You better be planning to buy me a drink, pretty boy."

The voice is low, oddly melodic, and he turns to find Eddie Munson's sparkling brown eyes gazing down at him. He's surprised, hides it, says, "Sure. What are you having?"

Eddie's mouth opens, but his eyes narrow. "Wait--Steve Harrington??"

"Um." His mouth goes dry. "Munson. Hi?"

"I--uh--wouldn't think this was your scene." Eddie shifts back, puts distance between them, and Steve hates it. Hates that Munson thinks the space is necessary, hates that he used to a person that made people feel that way.

"Yeah, well. A lot has changed since high school."

"Is that right? Surely not this much."

"Wouldn't you like to know."

Eddie's eyebrow lifts, but his mouth is a tight line. "Have a cigarette with me."

Steve nods and follows him out a side door into a narrow alley. Eddie pulls out two cigarettes, hands one to Steve. There's something about the cold politeness that sends a fizzle of disappointment down his spine.

"What brings you here?" Eddie asks.

"To Chicago or to this club?"

"Don't be cute."

"Can't help it." He smirks and Eddie rolls his eyes. "I moved to Chicago three months ago with my best friend, Robin. I'm at this club trying to explore my bisexuality."

Eddie's in the middle of taking a drag, splutters on the smoke. "Holy Shit."

He shrugs, knows he's blushing. "What can I say? I've spent the last few years learning about myself."

"And one of the things was that you like dick?"

"Looks like it."

'Well, goddamn, Steve Harrington."

"Impressed?"

Eddie licks his lips, steps closer. "Maybe I am."

"I aim to please." Steve lets himself grin.

"I bet you do," Eddie's voice goes even lower, and heat dances deep in Steve's stomach. "Wanna dance?"

"Thought you'd never ask." Steve blinks up at Eddie from under his eyelashes.

They go inside and join the bodies packed on the dance floor. At first, they keep their distance, dancing and laughing with an arm's length between them, but it's not long before they're drawn together, arms twining, legs pressed together. Their eyes lock, Steve can't look away, wouldn't even if he wanted to. Eddie's hands go to his waist, pull him closer.

"You're gorgeous, Harrington," he says it with his lips pressed to Steve's ear, goosebumps spreading across his skin.

"Yeah?"

"Can I tell you a secret?"

"Of course."

Eddie's mouth presses closer. "I used to have the biggest crush on you in high school."

"Fuck, Eddie," he says. "That's so--"

"Weird?"

"Fucking hot, dude."

"Can I tell you another secret?" Eddie's voice is all rumble.

"Course,"

"I can't stop thinking about kissing you."

"You could do something about it."

Eddie smiles, eyes going darker, almost predatory. He leans in, their breath mingling, Steve's hitching.

"You sure you want me to?" Eddie asks, mouth barely brushing Steve's.

"Please," and it comes out like he's been punched.

He thinks the kiss will be hard, hot, but Eddie's hand is gentle as it cups the back of his head, slowly pulls him in. It's a soft meeting of mouths, almost tender. His head is swimming, blood thrumming low and hot and sweet. He parts his lips and then all he can feel, taste, sense is Eddie.

It cracks something inside him, and his fingers dig into the fabric of Eddie's shirt, eagerly licking into his mouth. It must crack something in Eddie too, because he's hauling Steve impossibly closer until his legs have to wrap around Eddie's waist, or they're falling.

They break apart with a breathless laugh, both red cheeked and bright eyed. They don't move apart, instead they dance and make out until the music stops and the lights come up.

Eddie twines their fingers together as they walk to the exit, Steve sweaty and elated and a little head over heels.

Out on the sidewalk, basking in the cool air, Eddie stops him. "Can I--uh, take you for a drink? Or back to my place? I don't--not to assume, but I--"

"Both. Anywhere," Steve laughs. "I don't want this night to end."

Eddie's smile is brilliant, heart stopping. "Your wish is my command."

[kwoniele]

his (favorite) cheerleader

synopsis: cheerleading practice seems to affect seungcheol a lot more than you expected.

genre: smut

pairing: seungcheol x cheerleader!reader

wc: 737

warnings: rough sex! clearly i have a kink.. creampie, unprotected sex (please do NOT do this! use protection always) overprotective cheol, praise, scratching 😝, BABE THIS ISNT PROOFREAD ☺️ none of my works are tbh. i think thats all? please lmk if there are more!

authors note: hiii im baackkk!! this was supposed to be a celebratory fic for from behind but unfortunately i got quite occupied with my assignments (ack?) and didn’t get to ginish but u can read this as a standalone haha also my requests are open! please request SOMETHING im in need of ideas.. ok bye enjoy

nervous.

thats how you made seungcheol feel.

honestly, he would have never felt this way if he had stopped you from wearing the skimpy skirt for cheerleading practice. you asked him permission before choosing to wear it for the day because one: you would hate to make him feel like you’re dressing like a slut for everyone to see and two: the girls in your crew are bringing their boyfriends.

you would never admit it, but the girls in your squad have terrible taste for men. all of them are either desperate for a quick fuck with anyone but their girlfriends, or theyre in denial and swear to like women but seem to enjoy having drinks with your boyfriend instead.

but seungcheol didn’t hold you back. he swore it was okay and that you looked amazing in the skirt. he explained that he was going to be right beside you the entire time and that things were going to be alright. because he was there.

he was concerned that the boys would be very much eyeing you for a minute too long, or your name would be the name they’d be chanting for the entire game rather than their girlfriend’s.

he was wrong.

he was the person he was worried about.

the way the skirt almost barely covered your ass, the way your hair stuck to your forehead sticky with sweat, how your chest heaved whenever you finished a routine; he felt like he was going absolutely insane.

regardless of the fact he promised you he’d behave, he wasn’t doing a good job of fulfilling it. he could feel his cock slowly growing in his pants and he was not trying to hide it.

“seungcheol-ah, if you’re in need of relief, we’d really appreciate it if you could do it somewhere else and not on the freshly cleaned bleachers.” irene’s boyfriend lightly elbowed seungcheol,

cheol shot him a glare before his eyes slowly rested on you again. you were hot. if male ovulation was a thing, cheol was the epitome of it. all he heard was ringing and inaudible chatter as his attention was focused on you. his eyes were in the shape of hearts as he watched you perform.

he couldn't wait to go home. he just knew what he’d do to you as soon as you step foot into your house.

—

“haa~ cheol!” if he had asked you to count how many times you’ve come tonight, you wouldn’t be able to answer him. your cum had made a creamy white ring around his cock, slowly growing thicker and thicker as his thrusts began to pick up rhythm faster than the one before.

your voice began to strain, sweat started to trickle down the back of your neck, your hips were burning red as seungcheol showed no mercy at all. it was as if his dick had a mind of its own. his tip kisses your g-spot, making you arch from the bed as cheol’s hand pushed you down.

“you were so fucking pretty out there. did you know that? i was worried the boys would be a fucking idiot around you— fuck.” he threw his head back in a moan. “but it turns out, i was the one going insane.”

his lips traveled to your neck, leaving open-mouthed kisses beside the bruises he had made earlier. his thumb rubbed your clit, causing you to whine controllably as your gripped onto his shoulders. “pleaaase, let me cum!”

“yeah? my baby wants to cum?” seungcheol rapidly thrusted into you—if that was even possible—even more, making you slip out incoherent words as your eyebrows furrowed in frustration.

“yes! yes! yes! please let me cum please!” your nails clawed his back, leaving dark red marks as he winces in pain.

“fuck, cum with me okay?” you nodded in agreement, not caring about the neighbours who were probably wide awake, or the open windows that seungcheol didn’t bother to shut, or your cheerleading outfit that you definitely needed the following day.

“you can cum, beautiful.” he painted your walls with white ribbons as you breathed heavily—cumming right after him. you came so hard that you saw stars. as soon as you finally caught your breath, seungcheol was already rubbing you with a warm cloth, cleaning up his mess.

“you’re so responsible, you know?”

“mhm, i am. just not when you’re at cheerleading practice.” you giggle.

“you should come more often.”

[vanteguccir]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤGRAMMYS 2025 * CHRIS STURNIOLO

SUMMARY　::　where Y/N, worldwide famous singer, goes to the Grammys 2025 and brings Chris as her pair for the first time.

FEATURING　Chris Sturniolo x singer!reader　REQUESTED?　yes.

WARNINGS　::　none.

AUTHOR'S NOTE　::　that is my work, I DON'T authorize any form of plagiarism; copy, "inspiration" or translation! | english isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

Y/N had been nominated for five Grammy Awards this year. Five. And yet, for some reason, the thought of stepping onto that carpet, under the flashing lights and watchful eyes of the entire world, made her more nervous than she’d ever been.

It wasn’t her first time - this was her fifth Grammy appearance - but the nerves never seemed to dull, no matter how many times she did this.

Her team had tried everything: chamomile tea, soothing massages, deep breathing exercises, playing her favorite calming playlist at a low volume in the background, even giving her a dozen of those custom-made chocolates with her face printed on them. But nothing helped. Not really.

Not even Chris’s kisses; though she had to admit, they were a very welcome distraction.

They were in a penthouse suite of a luxurious hotel in downtown Los Angeles, even though their house was barely a twenty-minute drive away. It was protocol, her team insisted. Every artist did it - getting ready in a hotel, away from distractions, with stylists, makeup artists, and PR people swarming around. It was meant to be a controlled environment, a perfectly curated lead-up to the biggest night in music. But it only added to the pressure.

Y/N stood in front of a massive floor-to-ceiling mirror, wrapped in a silk robe, her bare feet sinking into the plush carpet as a makeup artist blended soft eyeshadow onto her lids. Her hairstylist was behind her, curling strands of her hair into loose waves. She looked poised on the outside, but internally, her nerves were tying knots in her stomach.

Chris sat on the couch a few feet away, watching her intently. He was already dressed - black tux, crisp white shirt, and a bow tie he had spent fifteen minutes fighting with before her makeup artist took pity on him and fixed it for him.

He looked good.

Really good.

The kind of good that made her momentarily forget about the nerves. But she wasn’t the only one nervous tonight.

Chris had been jittery since this morning, though he tried not to show it. This was his first time attending something this big, this formal, and while he was used to attention, this was a whole new level. He was going to be surrounded by the most famous people in the world, and for the first time, he wasn’t just Chris Sturniolo, the YouTuber; he was Chris Sturniolo, Y/N’s date to the Grammys.

But instead of letting his own anxiety get to him, he focused on her, observing how her fingers twitched, manicured nails shining below the lights with every tremble.

"Baby." He cooed, standing and walking toward her as soon as the makeup artist stepped aside. He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to her exposed shoulder, his big hands finding home around her hips, squeezing the covered skin. "What are you feeling, huh? 'Can feel you stressing from across the room, doll."

Y/N sighed, her hands gripping the edges of the vanity table, being careful not to knock her knuckles against the three massive bouquets - Nick had arranged for all of them to be delivered straight to her room in that morning.

"I just... I don’t know, Chris." She murmured, voice barely above a whisper. "I know I’ve done this before, but what if I don’t win anything? What if I disappoint everyone?"

Before she could spiral any further, Chris was already moving. His hands slid from her hips to her stomach, wrapping around her in a slow embrace. He pulled her against him, his chest firm against her back, the heat of his body seeping through the thin fabric of her robe.

"Hey." He whispered, lips brushing against the shell of her ear. "Don’t do that."

His voice was gentle but firm, a quiet command that sent a shiver down her spine. She felt his breath against her neck, warm and familiar, grounding her.

"First of all." He continued, his arms tightening around her middle. "You’re the best singer out of everyone in that room tonight. You know that, right?"

Her eyes rolled.

"Baby, you can't say that when Billie Eilish, Taylor Swift-" She started, turning her head slightly, but he was already shaking his head.

"Nope." He cut in, resting his chin in the curve of her neck, his gaze locking onto hers through the mirror. "I said what I said. And for the record." He added, voice lower now, dripping with conviction. "You’re already the winner of everything in my book. Even the categories you’re not nominated in."

She sighed, heart pounding as his hands splayed across her stomach, his thumbs brushing slow, absentminded circles.

"Best Album? Yours." He murmured, letting his lips ghost over her jaw. "Best Song? Yours." His mouth traveled down to her shoulder, barely pressing against her skin, yet setting every nerve ending alight. "Best Human Being to Ever Exist?" He turned his head just enough to meet her eyes in the mirror again, his smirk soft but teasing. "You, obviously."

She let out a small, shaky laugh.

"Chris-"

"I’m serious." He interrupted, turning his head and nuzzling the soft skin of her temple, inhaling the rich scent of her Givenchy perfume. "Your fans love you. I love you. And, babe, let’s be honest, you could drop a single of you just breathing into a mic, and it would still go platinum."

That made her laugh, her eyes rolling with amusement.

"You’re gonna do your best tonight, like you always do. And no matter what happens, I’ll be right there with you."

She finally turned in his hold, her arms looping around his neck and her red tinted lips forming a small pout.

"Even if I trip on the carpet?"

"I’ll trip with you. We’ll make it a trend." Chris grinned, pressing a lingering kiss to the tip of her nose, being excessively careful not to smudge her perfect makeup. "Now, I think there's a worldwide famous singer who should be getting dressed, huh?"

Y/N's eyes stared into blue ones for a moment, smiling with the softness she found in them.

"Yeah... Yeah, you're right."

A sharp knock at the door broke their haze, followed by a loud voice.

"Y/N!"

The voice was unmistakable, high-pitched and full of dramatic flair, and before Y/N could even turn, Harry Lambert had burst into the room, arms spread wide, eyes scanning her from head to toe with theatrical disbelief.

"Oh. My. GOD." He practically floated toward her, his hands fluttering in the air like he was physically trying to grasp the vision before him. "Darling, how dare you stand there looking this stunning before even getting into your dress?"

Y/N barely had time to react before he pulled her into a tight hug, arms wrapped around her like he hadn’t seen her in years - even though they had spoken just yesterday. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head, holding her there for a beat longer than necessary, his touch radiating warmth and love.

"My baby girl." He cooed, pulling back slightly to cup her face. "How are we feeling? Nervous? Excited? On the verge of a breakdown?"

"All of the above." Y/N admitted, letting out a breathy laugh as he studied her with fondness.

Harry clicked his tongue.

"Well, you shouldn’t be, because you’re about to own this night. And if anyone so much as dares to breathe in your direction the wrong way, I will be throwing hands."

Chris chuckled from behind them.

"Good to see you, Harry."

"Christopher!" Harry turned to him with a dazzling smile, patting his chest in greeting before narrowing his eyes playfully. "The suit I chose for you was a very good choice, huh? Gucci looks good on you. Now, let’s be clear, your only job tonight is to stand there, look pretty, and worship Y/N like the goddess she is. Do you understand me?"

Chris raised his hands in surrender.

"Oh, trust me, I’ve been doing that since the second I met her."

Y/N felt her cheeks warm as Harry clapped his hands together.

"That’s my boy. Now, enough chit-chat! It is officially time to get my queen into the dress."

The entire room seemed to shift as the energy buzzed with anticipation. Y/N was ushered toward the dressing area, where the Gucci gown had been carefully laid out, glowing under the soft lights. Even without being worn, it commanded attention - the gold fabric shimmering as if infused with actual stardust, the dramatic ruffles sculpted to perfection.

As they helped her into it, every detail came to life. The strapless silhouette hugged her body in all the right places, the embedded crystals catching every flicker of light. The metallic sleeves, voluminous and artful, cascaded around her arms, while the matching ruffles at the bottom framed her steps with effortless grace.

When the final adjustments were made, Harry stepped back, his hands pressed to his chest as if he might faint.

"Oh, sweet heavens above." He whispered, looking genuinely overwhelmed. "I’ve outdone myself. We’ve outdone ourselves."

Chris, who had been sitting on the bed answering his brothers texts, looked up with Harry's voice, suddenly straightening up. His hands dropped to his lap, and his mouth hung open slightly, completely speechless.

"Wow." His voice came out strangled, like he had just been personally attacked.

Y/N turned toward him fully, the movement making the crystals on her dress shimmer, the light practically bending to her will. Chris visibly short-circuited.

"Are you- what- how-" He inhaled sharply, shaking his head as if trying to reboot his brain. "Nah. Nah. This isn’t fair. This should be illegal."

Y/N bit her lip, fighting a smile, but his reaction only got worse. His fingers threaded into his hair, his eyes raking over her from head to toe with pure, unfiltered obsession.

"Jesus fuck." He breathed out, voice a little rough. "You’re gonna kill me tonight, doll."

Harry smirked, tilting his head as he admired her.

"Oh, she’s not just going to kill you, Christopher. She’s going to kill everyone at the Grammys tonight. And I, for one, cannot wait to watch it happen."

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

The energy outside the venue was electric. Even from inside the tinted Range Rover, the deafening sound of flashing cameras and screaming paparazzi was unavoidable. Y/N shifted in her seat, inhaling slowly, feeling the vibration of the excitement just beyond the doors.

A hand suddenly slid over her thighs, warm and grounding, caressing the fabric of her dress.

"Ready?" Chris asked, his voice softer than the chaos outside.

Y/N turned to him, wetting her matte lipstick lips.

"Yeah." She breathed, even though her heart was hammering.

Chris smirked knowingly.

"Liar."

Before she could argue, the car door swung open, and an immediate wave of screams hit them like a storm.

Chris stepped out first, adjusting his suit as flashes exploded around him, the sound of his name already being yelled from every direction. He quickly moved around to face the inside of the car, offering his hand.

The second Y/N emerged, the chaos tripled.

"Y/N! Y/N! Over here!"

"Y/N! Christopher! Are you two official?"

"Y/N, do you think you’ll win tonight?"

Y/N barely flinched at the shouting - it was part of the job. Instead, she kept her chin high, gripping Chris’s hand as they made their way down the carpet. The venue was bathed in red and gold hues, a massive step-and-repeat wall covered in Grammy logos standing proudly ahead. The air buzzed with anticipation, celebrities lining the edges of the carpet, all waiting for their moment in front of the cameras.

A staff member approached, guiding them toward a designated spot.

"You first, Ms. Y/N." The woman instructed.

Chris gave Y/N a gentle squeeze before stepping aside, allowing her to take center stage.

And damn, did she own it.

The second she posed, the already flashing cameras seemed to explode.

The fitted, gold gown clung to her frame like liquid metal, sparkling under the lights. The voluminous, ruffled sleeves caught the air as she shifted her stance, making her look like some sort of celestial being - untouchable, ethereal. She turned her head smoothly, flashing a radiant smile as the photographers shouted for her attention.

Chris, standing just a few feet away, was not handling it well. His eyes never left her, completely entranced, like he was seeing her for the first time again, not even noticing the flashs directed to his figure.

Y/N, catching his expression, couldn’t help but smile shyly. She subtly tilted her head toward him between poses, raising a teasing brow.

Chris just shook his head, still gawking, before muttering under his breath.

"Jesus Christ."

The staff member signaled for Chris to approach Y/N for their couple photos. Y/N turned toward him, making a playful shooing motion with her hands as if to snap him out of his trance.

"Earth to Chris." She teased.

Chris didn’t respond - not verbally, at least. Instead, he stepped closer with large steps and grabbed her by the waist, carefully pulling her flush against him, careful with her heels but firm enough to steal a delighted gasp from her. The moment their bodies pressed together, the screams from the crowd outside the barricades and the clicking of cameras reached a new level of hysteria.

The cameras loved them.

Chris leaned in between shots, his lips brushing her ear.

"You think they got food inside?"

Y/N barely bit back a laugh, keeping her expression poised as she continued smiling for the cameras.

"What, you mean like caviar and tiny-ass lobster rolls?"

"I don’t care if it’s a plate of lettuce. I need to eat something before I pass out."

Y/N snorted softly with how dramatic he could be, bumping her hips against his just slightly, careful not to disrupt the pictures.

"You ate almost all of those chocolates back in the hotel. Where does it even go?"

Chris grinned, his fingers squeezing at her waist, effectively freezing her in place.

"Wouldn’t you like to know?"

She rolled her eyes, suppressing a giggle.

"Be serious, Sturniolo."

"I am serious." He looked at her then, really looked at her, and it sent something warm and electric curling down her spine. "You are so fucking beautiful, it’s actually stupid."

Y/N faltered for half a second, her breath catching, not from the flashing lights, not from the cameras, but from him.

Chris chuckled, clearly pleased her reaction.

"Want to give y'a post-celebration present so bad." His voice switched to low and airy, almost lost beneath the noise, but she heard it perfectly.

Y/N swallowed, her mind jumping to conclusions she probably shouldn’t be having on the Grammys red carpet.

"Hm, and what would that be?"

Chris smirked, his fingers flexing at her waist.

"Eat y’out."

Y/N kept her composure like a pro, smiling for the cameras with a practiced grin, but discreetly pressed her thighs together. Two could play this game.

But before she could fire back, a voice interrupted.

"Alright, guys! We need to move to the next area!"

Another event staff member gestured for them to proceed toward the interview section, their tone polite but firm. Y/N exhaled slowly, her heart thudding inside her ears.

Chris sighed dramatically, his grip on her waist tightening for just a second before he let go, traveling up to her hand.

"And here I was, thinking we could just stay here all night."

Y/N squeezed his fingers, tugging him forward.

"Come on, you menace."

As they walked toward the interview zone, the setup became clearer - a sleek, well-lit platform lined with various media outlets, each interviewer eagerly awaiting their next celebrity guest. But before Y/N could even register who was up next, a familiar voice rang out, unmistakably enthusiastic.

"Y/N, oh my God! Get over here!"

Emma Chamberlain.

Y/N's face lit up immediately, and without hesitation, she pulled Chris along, their hands still intertwined as they made a beeline toward Emma. The internet personality-turned-Grammys correspondent was practically bouncing on her heels, her eyes wide with excitement.

As soon as they reached her, Emma lifted her microphone with dramatic flair.

"Ladies and gentlemen, five-time Grammy-nominated Y/N L/N, everyone!"

Y/N laughed, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

"No way you just said that like an awards show host."

Emma grinned.

"I am an awards show host." Then, turning to Chris, she playfully narrowed her eyes. "And, of course, let’s not forget the man of the hour, Chris Sturniolo!"

Chris chuckled, giving a small wave, the silver ring on his index finger glinting against the camera flash.

"That’s me."

Emma wasted no time diving into questions, her energy infectious.

"Okay, first things first, how are you feeling?" She pointed the mic toward Y/N.

Y/N exhaled, a bright smile still gracing her lips.

"Honestly? I’m just... I don’t even know how to put it into words. Happy? Grateful? In shock? All of it at once?" She shook her head in disbelief. "I mean, the Grammys. It’s something you dream about as a kid, you know? And now, five nominations? I feel like I need someone to pinch me."

Chris gently squeezed her hand, leaning in slightly so his mouth was close to the mic, his cheek brushing hers in the process.

"Not gonna lie, I did pinch her earlier to check."

Y/N playfully swatted at him, making Emma laugh.

"Alright, but tell me everything. What were you doing when you found out you were nominated?"

At this, Y/N turned to Chris, already laughing.

"Oh my God, it was chaos."

Chris grinned, nodding while brushing his messy hair back.

"Totally."

Y/N faced Emma again, still giggling.

"Okay, so we were just in the living room, me, Chris, Matt, and Nick. It was so casual, literally just us eating burgers, watching the nominations roll in on TV, not thinking much of it."

Emma’s eyes widened.

"Wait, so you weren’t even refreshing Twitter like a maniac?"

"No!" Y/N shook her head. "I swear, I wasn’t even expecting anything. And then, boom. My name gets called for the first nomination, and I just screamed."

"Nick screamed, too." Chris jumped in, laughing.

Emma gasped.

"Nick would."

Y/N nodded rapidly.

"He did! So then, Chris kisses me, Matt’s literally jumping up and down, and it was just full-on mayhem. But then, like, a minute later, my name gets called again for another nomination."

Chris smirked, nodding his head.

"And again. And again."

Emma covered her mouth, delighted.

"So by the fifth time-"

"I was crying." Y/N admitted, grinning. "Like, full-on sobbing in Chris’s arms."

Emma dramatically put her free hand against her heart.

"This is what I live for." Then, turning to Chris, she grinned mischievously. "Alright, your turn, Sturniolo."

Chris blinked, looking at Y/N before going back to Emma.

"Me?"

Emma nodded, dead serious.

"Yes, you. Because I know you, you act all cool and chill, but I know you were losing your mind when she got nominated."

Chris laughed, shaking his head.

"I mean, yeah, obviously. I was going crazy. But I think it really hit me when I looked at her during the last nomination and realized, this is actually happening. Like, she’s that talented. The world is seeing what I already knew."

Y/N felt her face heat up, a mix of emotions swirling in her chest.

Emma pouted.

"Chris, that's so wholesome. You’re really that boyfriend, huh?"

Chris shrugged, squeezing Y/N’s hand.

"I mean, yeah. Have you met her?"

Y/N rolled her eyes playfully, but her smile didn’t fade.

"I know, right?" Emma nodded at Chris's direction, laughing with Y/N's reaction. "Now, tell me, which nomination are you most excited about?"

Y/N didn’t even hesitate.

"Song of the Year."

Emma’s brows lifted.

"Because...?"

Y/N took a breath, her fingers unconsciously tightening around Chris’s hand.

"Because the song nominated for that category is Lavender Haze, and that song... it just means so much to me." She glanced at Chris, her expression softer now.

Emma’s eyes darted between the two of them, her curiosity sparking instantly. She glanced at Y/N, then at Chris, before turning toward the camera with exaggerated wide eyes.

"Ohhh, I know that look." She teased, pointing between them with a knowing grin. "Okay, spill, tell me about the song."

Y/N let out a breathy laugh with how eager she sounded, meeting Emma’s gaze again.

"You'll know all about it if I win." She winked, her tone warm.

Chris was quick to approach the microphone again.

"Not if, when."

Emma tilted her head, frowning as a pout grew on her lips.

"No way you're going to leave me with this curiosity." She sighed dramatically. "I guess I'll need to watch the awards with double attention." Emma winked to the camera. "Okay, I’m obsessed with you guys. This is too cute. But I won’t keep you any longer, go enjoy your night! And, Y/N, fingers crossed for all five wins!"

Y/N beamed, giving Emma one last hug before she and Chris were guided to the next section of the event. As they walked, the lights of the Grammys venue shining ahead, Chris leaned in close, his lips brushing her ear.

"You’re killing it, doll."

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

The moment Y/N and Chris stepped into the grand main salon, the shift in the atmosphere was almost physical. The flashing lights of the red carpet were behind them, replaced by the elegant glow of chandeliers and the soft hum of conversation. Celebrities, industry giants, and music legends filled the expansive room, dressed in their finest, the air buzzing with anticipation.

A staff member immediately approached them with a warm smile, gesturing toward their assigned table.

"Good evening, Ms. L/N, Mr. Sturniolo. Right this way, please."

As they walked through the lavishly decorated space, Y/N’s fingers instinctively tightened around Chris’s hand, her nerves still tingling with the knowledge that the biggest names were around her.

Halfway to their table, a familiar voice called out from the side.

"Chris! No way- dude!"

Chris turned toward the sound, a grin instantly spreading across his face when he saw Troye Sivan standing up from his table, waving him over.

Troye had met Chris and his brothers just two weeks ago at a Prada fashion show, and the energy between them had been instantly chill and friendly.

"Troye, hey, what’s up, man?" Chris greeted as he pulled him in for a quick hug.

Meanwhile, Y/N turned toward Sabrina Carpenter, who was seated beside Troye in the most ethereal baby blue dress, its delicate fabric flowing like water over her frame.

"Sabrina, hi!" Y/N greeted, her voice lighting up as she fully took in the details of her look. "Wow, you look absolutely stunning. Like, actually unreal."

Sabrina’s eyes widened for a split second, surprise flashing across her face before it melted into the sweetest, most genuine smile. Without a second thought, she pushed herself up from her seat, reaching for Y/N as if they were lifelong friends and pulling her into a warm, affectionate hug. She squeezed tightly, her energy radiating pure kindness.

"Oh my god, stop." Sabrina gushed, pulling back just enough to look at Y/N, her hands still resting gently on her arms. "That means the world coming from you. And please, look at you!" She emphasized, eyes scanning Y/N from head to toe with genuine admiration. "You look like an actual goddess."

Y/N laughed softly, shaking her head as she absentmindedly smoothed her hands over the golden fabric of her dress.

"It’s all Lambert’s magic." She admitted with a playful grin, referring to her trusted stylist. Then, with a spark of excitement, she added. "I heard you’re performing tonight, I cannot wait to see it!"

Sabrina practically bounced in place, her excitement just as contagious.

"Oh, that makes me so nervous but also so happy." She admitted with a laugh, her hands clasping together. "I just hope I don’t trip or something."

Y/N shook her head instantly.

"No way, you’re going to kill it. I already know it."

Chris and Troye exchanged a few more words, something about how amazing the Prada show had been and how they should schedule to do something together in the future, before Chris gave him a casual pat on the shoulder.

"We’ll catch up later, yeah? We gotta find our table before they go live."

Troye grinned.

"For sure. Enjoy the night, guys."

After one last big smile at Sabrina, Y/N slipped her hand back into Chris’s as they navigated through the room.

Their table was positioned with a perfect view of the stage, the paper cards on their seats spelling out their names in black ink below a selected picture of their faces.

As they sat down, Y/N exhaled, glancing up at the stage. A quick glance at the massive countdown screen told her they had ten minutes before the live broadcast began.

"Damn." She muttered, leaning toward Chris. "Didn’t even realize how much time passed outside."

Chris chuckled, his voice low.

"That’s ‘cause you were too busy looking hot and stealing everyone’s attention."

She rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the amused smile that tugged at her lips.

"Come'ere, babe." He asked, extending his arm in her direction, asking silently for her to move closer.

Her eyes sparkled with affection, and she shifted her chair slightly, moving closer to Chris until she was practically pressed against his side. Without hesitation, he wrapped his extended arm around her upper body, pulling her in securely. The warmth of his body mixed with the familiarity of his presence was grounding and comforting.

Chris pressed a soft kiss to her temple, his lips lingering for just a second longer than necessary.

Y/N tilted her head up to look at him, her eyes shining under the dimmed chandeliers.

"Thank you." She whispered, her voice barely audible over the hum of the room.

Chris furrowed his brows slightly, looking down at her, their faces so close he could feel her warm breath hitting his chin.

"For what?"

"For being here with me. For always being here for me."

His gaze softened immediately, and the way he looked at her - so full of quiet devotion - made her heart swell.

"Forever, baby." He murmured, squeezing her gently.

Before Y/N could say anything else, a new voice cut into their moment.

"Excuse me, I hope I’m not interrupting anything."

The voice was warm, familiar, and utterly unmistakable.

Both Y/N and Chris turned toward the sound, and in an instant, Y/N felt the entire world freeze. Her breath caught in her throat, her heart stuttered, and for a brief, terrifying moment, she wondered if she had actually left her body.

Because standing there, just a few feet away, in all her effortless, golden-lit, legendary glory, was Taylor Swift.

Taylor Swift.

Y/N swore she could hear the heavens parting and angels singing in the background.

Taylor was an absolute vision in a stunning, strong red mini dress, her signature red lip effortlessly bold, her blonde hair framing her face in soft waves.

And she was smiling - smiling - at her.

"Oh my god." Y/N blurted out, the words tumbling out of her mouth before she could even attempt to reel them back in.

Taylor let out a soft laugh as she shook her head lightly, eyes twinkling.

"I just wanted to say that I’m such a huge fan of your work. Lavender Haze is absolutely everything."

Y/N felt her soul leave her body.

Her brain quite literally short-circuited. Because- because what?

Taylor Swift, the Taylor Swift, her biggest inspiration, her songwriting idol, just complimented her music?

There was a very real possibility that she had just blacked out.

Chris shifted slightly beside her, maintaining his arm above the back of her chair, obviously trying so hard not to burst out laughing at how starstruck she looked.

Somehow, somehow, Y/N managed to keep her expression together, even though her heart was doing full-blown Olympic-level gymnastics in her chest.

"That means everything coming from you." She breathed, every word laced with pure, raw sincerity. "Thank you so, so much."

Taylor’s smile only widened, like she could feel how much those words meant to Y/N.

"Seriously." She said, her voice warm and genuine. "I’ve been listening to it on repeat. You’re insanely talented. The way you crafted that song... you have such a gift."

Y/N felt an actual tear prick at the corner of her eye. She wanted to scream. She wanted to hug her. She wanted to tattoo this moment onto her soul and never forget it.

And then, as if she couldn’t possibly adore her any more, Taylor turned to Chris, offering him the same bright, kind smile.

"And of course, you." She said, her tone playful but just as sincere. "I love what you and your brothers are doing on YouTube. It’s always fun seeing people bring fresh energy to the space."

Chris looked genuinely taken aback for a moment. His eyebrows lifted slightly, and for the first time, Y/N saw a flicker of oh wow, this is real life in his expression.

"That’s- wow, okay, that’s crazy." He said, running a hand through his hair with an incredulous chuckle. "Thank you, that’s- man, that’s insane coming from you."

Taylor grinned, her hand gently squeezing Y/N’s shoulder, grounding her back to reality.

"I won’t keep you guys." She said softly. "I just wanted to say that. Hope you both have the best night."

And just like that, she turned, walking back toward her table.

For a long, stunned second, Y/N just stood there, processing what had just happened. Then, with wide eyes, she turned to Chris, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Did that just happen?"

Chris, still looking way too amused, nodded, his grin stretching across his face.

"Yup." He confirmed. "And you just casually had a conversation with Taylor Swift like it was nothing."

Y/N let out a sharp exhale, pressing her hands over her face.

"I need a second."

Chris laughed, and before she could even register it, he was wrapping both arms around her, pulling her in tightly, his face pressing against her hair.

"Proud of you, popstar." He murmured, his voice laced with nothing but warmth.

Before she could respond, the lights dimmed, and the energy in the room shifted as a voice echoed through the speakers.

"Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome your host for the 67th Annual Grammy Awards, Trevor Noah!"

A roar of cheers erupted as the towering LED screens flanking the stage flickered to life, displaying Trevor Noah’s wide, mischievous grin. He strolled onto the main floor rather than standing on the stage, seamlessly blending into the sea of round tables where the biggest names in the industry were seated.

He adjusted the microphone in his hand, letting the applause die down just enough before flashing a knowing smirk.

"Alright, ladies and gentlemen." He began, his smooth voice carrying through the arena. "This is it, the 67th Grammys! Music’s biggest night! The Super Bowl for people who cried to Folklore, danced to Beyoncé, and worked out to Travis Scott, all in the same day!"

Laughter rippled through the crowd as the camera panned to a few artists nodding dramatically in agreement.

"And listen, let’s be honest. The Grammys are basically just a really fancy dinner party where we all pretend we haven’t been stalking the winners list since yesterday." Another wave of laughter followed. "But tonight... tonight, we are celebrating the best of the best in music. The songs that made us scream in our cars, the albums that made us question our entire existence, and the artists who consistently ruin our Spotify Wrapped every year."

Trevor began walking casually between the round tables, grinning as he looked around at the audience.

"And let’s not forget the real stars of the night, the seating arrangements. Have you seen these tables? It’s like the ultimate Hunger Games. You got legends, you got rookies, and you got the poor artists who are just hoping they don’t get caught in an awkward cutaway during a joke."

The camera zoomed in on a few newer artists laughing nervously, earning a chuckle from the crowd.

Trevor continued weaving his way through the tables, his eyes scanning the sea of music’s biggest names.

"And speaking of icons." He said, stopping by a particular table. "Tonight, we have the one and only Y/N L/N with us!"

The moment her name left his lips, the entire arena erupted into cheers. The camera cut to Y/N’s table, her face instantly lighting up with a radiant smile. Chris grinned smugly as he watched her soak in the moment.

Y/N turned slightly to face the camera that was now focused on her, offering a soft wave. The massive screen above the stage displayed a live feed of her, the applause continuing as Trevor beamed.

"Now, listen, if you somehow missed it, Y/N is up for five nominations tonight!" Trevor announced, pointing at her with mock emphasis. "Five nominations, guys. For songs and the album she announced when she won last year. That’s how much of a legend she is."

Y/N let out a soft laugh, her cheeks warming as she watched herself on the big screen. The camera panned slightly to Chris, who was nodding with a smug expression, as if silently agreeing with every word Trevor was saying.

"Plus." Trevor continued, stepping closer to their table. "If Y/N wins tonight, she could be the first artist ever to win Album of the Year five times."

Gasps and cheers rippled through the audience, while Y/N’s smile grew impossibly wider.

"Which means, she would break the record of four wins set all the way back in 2024 by-" Trevor raised his free hand, making a show of pretending to check an invisible list on his palm. "Y/N L/N!"

The entire room erupted into even louder applause, whistles echoing through the space as Trevor dramatically motioned toward her again.

Y/N's eyebrows flew up, feigning surprise, trying to contain her giddiness while Chris chuckled beside her, mouthing 'that's my girl' to a camera pointing his way.

Trevor placed a hand on his hip, looking toward the camera with mock exasperation.

"So basically, Y/N is out here breaking her own records. Just casually deciding that four wins aren’t enough and going for five. That’s like running a marathon, winning, and then saying, 'You know what? Let’s do it again, backwards'."

More laughter filled the room, Y/N pressing a hand over her mouth to keep from giggling too much. Trevor grinned, looking at her one last time.

"Listen, Y/N, whatever happens tonight, you’re already a legend. But if you win that fifth Grammy, just promise me you won’t announce another album mid-acceptance speech. Give the rest of the industry a fighting chance, okay?"

Y/N laughed, shaking her head, and Chris patted her thigh under the table, looking thoroughly entertained.

Trevor winked before turning back to the audience, raising his mic once again.

"Alright, let’s get this incredible night started! We’ve got performances, surprises, and probably a few moments that’ll break the internet. Let’s do this!"

The crowd roared as the cameras pulled away, cutting to a sleek transition video, signaling the official start of the show. Y/N exhaled, stealing a glance at Chris, who simply grinned and pulled her back to his chest, pressing his lips against her cheek.

"You’re so winning tonight."

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

The moment the last notes of Birds of a Feather echoed through the grand hall, Y/N felt like she was floating. Billie Eilish had just delivered one of the most breathtaking performances she had ever seen, and she could still feel the goosebumps lingering on her arms.

She turned to Chris, her eyes shining with excitement, her heart still beating to the rhythm of the song.

"Billie is unreal." She gushed, shaking her head in disbelief. "Like, every time she performs, it’s like she’s singing straight to my soul."

Chris let out a chuckle, his arm draped lazily around her shoulders, pulling her close.

"Nick would actually kill to be here right now." His lips quirked up in amusement. "I bet he’s texting us like a mad man."

Y/N laughed softly, already imagining Nick’s all-caps messages blowing up their group chat. But before she could even think of checking, the stage lights dimmed slightly, and the screens around the venue shifted. A familiar melody played in the background as a figure gracefully stepped onto the stage. The chatter in the audience softened as people turned their attention to her.

Taylor Swift.

Y/N straightened in her seat, her heart picking up speed.

Chris immediately caught the change in her posture and smirked.

"Oh shit." He teased, giving her shoulder a little squeeze. "Your idol is speaking. Do you need me to hold you so you don’t pass out?"

She rolled her eyes but couldn’t deny the excitement bubbling in her chest.

Taylor approached the microphone with that effortless charm that made the entire room fall silent. She smiled warmly, tucking a strand of golden hair behind her ear before speaking.

"Good evening, everyone." She greeted, her voice carrying easily through the venue. "Tonight has been incredible so far, and I am so honored to be here presenting this next award."

Y/N opened a genuine smile, squeezing Chris's thigh below her fingers.

"Album of the Year is such a special award because it represents not just music, but stories. It’s about the albums that stayed with us, that shaped our emotions, our memories. The ones that became the soundtrack to our lives." Taylor continued, her expression softening as she held up the envelope. "And with that being said, the Grammy goes to..."

She slid her fingers under the flap and carefully pulled out the card, unfolding it with precision.

Y/N could feel Chris’s arms tighten around her. His body heat a cocoon around her own as she clutched onto him, her pulse thundering in her temple.

A second of silence stretched. Then Taylor’s eyes scanned the paper, and the biggest, brightest smile took over her face. Her gaze lifted, seemingly searching the crowd for someone.

Y/N furrowed her brows slightly.

Taylor found her.

And then, with a warmth that sent shivers down Y/N’s spine, Taylor announced.

"Y/N L/N, Midnights."

The world tilted.

For a solid moment, Y/N didn’t move. She couldn’t move. The air in her lungs disappeared, her vision blurred instantly with unshed tears, and her mouth fell open in pure, unfiltered shock, her hands hovering near her mouth, trembling as realization crashed into her like a tidal wave.

Album of the Year.

She won.

She won.

Chris, on the other hand, reacted immediately.

"YES!" He shouted, his voice cutting through the noise as he punched the air, his excitement completely unfiltered. People turned, smiling, laughing, but Chris didn’t care. His hands were already on Y/N, his eyes scanning her face.

She wasn’t breathing.

"Babe." His voice softened instantly as he leaned in, his forehead almost touching hers. "Hey, you did it."

Y/N sucked in a sharp, shaky breath, but it wasn’t enough. Tears welled in her eyes, spilling over before she could stop them, her body shaking with the force of emotions she had no chance of containing.

A broken sob escaped her lips.

Chris pulled her in before she could crumple, wrapping her up in the kind of hug that blocked everything else out. His arms were warm, steady, his lips pressing against her forehead as he whispered, his voice firm this time.

"You did it."

Y/N let out a wet laugh against his shoulder, her fingers clutching onto him for just a second longer before she finally let go.

He gently lowered his head, making sure she looked at him.

And God, the way he was looking at her.

Like she had just built the entire universe with her bare hands.

"Go get your Grammy, winner." He murmured, the words slow and soft and filled with everything.

Y/N let out another broken breath, nodding before finally, finally turning toward the stage.

The journey to the top felt surreal, like she was floating. The cheers, the applause, the faces she recognized - people she had idolized - they all blurred together.

And then suddenly, she was there.

Standing at the top.

Face to face with Taylor Swift.

Who was smiling at her, waiting for her, Grammy in hand.

Y/N’s breath hitched all over again.

Her hands, still unsteady, reached out, fingers closing around the golden gramophone. The weight of it sent a whole new wave of emotions crashing into her.

Before she could even process what was happening, Taylor pulled her into a hug - tight, warm, real.

"Congratulations." Taylor whispered against her ear, and god, if that wasn’t the most surreal moment of Y/N’s entire life. "You deserve this so much."

A choked noise left Y/N’s lips as she nodded weakly, her throat too tight to speak.

She deserved this.

She deserved this.

Her fingers traced over the Grammy, like she needed physical proof that it was real before she finally turned to the microphone.

She inhaled deeply. Opened her mouth.

"I-I don’t even know what to say right now." She admitted, biting her bottom lip. "I’m- god, I’m just so honored."

The crowd cooed, and Y/N let out a breathless laugh of her own, shaking her head as more tears slipped down her cheeks.

"This is insane." She said, shaking her head slightly. "Being nominated in this category, alongside so many incredible artists, artists I’ve admired for years, was already more than I could’ve ever dreamed of. To even stand beside you all tonight, to celebrate music with you? That was already everything."

Her chest rose and fell as she blinked away the heat gathering behind her eyes, sweeping her gaze across the crowd.

"I have to thank my incredible producer, my team, every single person who helped bring this album to life." Her voice wavered, thick with emotion. "You guys took my wild, messy ideas and turned them into something real, something that I never could have done alone. And I will never stop being grateful."

She wet her lips, inhaling deeply before her smile stretched just a little wider.

"My fans..." Her voice caught slightly, her hand pressing over her heart. "You guys have given me everything. You’ve let me tell my stories, and you’ve listened over and over and over again. You’ve made this dream of mine possible, and I love you more than I can ever put into words."

The cheers swelled again, voices from every corner of the room shouting her name. Her grip on the Grammy tightened as she shifted her weight slightly.

"To my family, Matt and Nick, my biggest cheerleaders." She laughed softly, looking at the main camera pointing at her. "I love you guys, you already know that."

And then, as if the moment had been waiting for this, her gaze lifted to him. Her breath hitched, lips curling into a smile that was just for him.

"And lastly." She said, her voice softer now. "To my boyfriend, Chris."

A ripple of excitement spread through the audience, but Y/N didn’t hear it. Not when those impossibly blue eyes were locked onto hers, not when his expression softened with something so tender, so proud, it made her knees weak.

"Thank you for being the creative genius that you are." She said, eyes never leaving his. "For staying up with me in the studio when I couldn’t figure out the right melody, even when I was on hour ten of tweaking the same one."

Laughter rolled through the room, and Chris grinned, shaking his head.

"For never doubting me." She continued, her throat tightening. "Even when I doubted myself. For being my biggest supporter. My muse. Every song, every lyric... You are in all of them.”

Chris exhaled sharply, his jaw tensing, his hand pressing over his heart as if feeling her love for him.

"Thank you." She finished simply, her voice steady, full of everything she couldn’t quite put into words.

The applause was deafening. A roar of cheers, of love, of celebration.

But all Y/N could hear was the thundering of her own heart.

This was real.

She had just won Album of the Year for the fifth time in a row.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

The massive screens on either side of the stage illuminated with Trevor Noah’s face again as he took the microphone, now standing above all of them, his signature charm radiating through the room.

"Alright, people." He started, a knowing smirk on his lips. "This is it, one of the most expected award of the night. Song of the Year."

The audience erupted into applause, a tangible wave of excitement washing over the room.

Y/N could barely hear it. Her entire body felt like it was wound up in a coil, so tight that she might snap. Her heart pounded mercilessly against her ribcage as she focused on the only thing grounding her - Chris’s hand wrapped tightly around hers.

She could feel the heat of his palm, the way his fingers curled firmly around hers, almost as if he knew she needed the anchor.

Trevor continued, his voice filling the grand space.

"Now, we all know Song of the Year isn’t just about a hit track. It’s about storytelling. It’s about lyrics that mean something that connects with people, that makes you feel something in your soul."

Y/N squeezed her eyes shut for a second. God, she felt like she was going to throw up.

Chris, meanwhile, kept his eyes locked on the stage, his jaw set, body tense. His grip on her hand tightening, his thumb brushing over the back of her hand once - just once - as if silently telling her, I’ve got you.

Trevor continued listing the nominees, their song snippets playing softly over the speakers, but Y/N’s mind was a blur. The only thing she could feel was her heartbeat hammering violently inside her chest.

She could barely hear Trevor’s next words over the rush of blood in her ears.

"And the Grammy goes to..."

A dramatic pause.

It felt endless. It felt cruel.

Y/N finally lifted her head, eyes darting to the stage.

Trevor’s gaze swept across the room before his smile widened.

"Y/N L/N, Lavender Haze!"

The room erupted. Applause, cheers bouncing off the walls, her own voice echoing from the speakers, but Y/N barely registered any of it.

Her breath hitched, her entire body jerking forward as if her heart had physically pulled her out of her seat. Her hands flew to her face, pressing against her eyes, trying to contain the overwhelming rush of emotions slamming into her all at once.

Oh, god. Oh, god.

Chris was already moving before she could even think. His chair scraped back, his arms were on her in an instant, pulling her up, grounding her before she could float away in all of this.

"Oh my god." The words tumbled out of her, barely a whisper against her palms, her chest rising and falling too quickly to keep up.

Chris didn’t hesitate. His arms wrapped around her tightly, anchoring her, holding her so close she could feel his heartbeat against hers.

"I am so fucking proud of you." His voice was right against her ear, steady, sure. "You are everything, baby."

That was it. That was what made the tears slip free.

But Chris didn’t let her hide.

With infinite tenderness, he pulled her hands away from her face, his thumbs sweeping over her damp cheeks. Then, before she could even catch her breath, he cupped her jaw and kissed her, firm, lingering, so full of love that everything else around them faded into nothing.

The crowd reacted instantly - cheers, whistles, camera flashes exploding in rapid succession - but Y/N only felt him.

When he pulled back, his hand found the small of her back, keeping her close, his face glowing with pride.

"Go get your second Grammy, superstar."

She exhaled shakily, nodding as she turned toward the stage for the second time in that night.

With each step, she forced herself to breathe.

In.

Out.

The massive gold-lettered GRAMMY AWARDS logo towered behind Trevor as he extended the award toward her, his smile warm and genuine.

"Y/N, congratulations." He said, offering a short but meaningful handshake.

Y/N took the Grammy statue with slightly trembling hands, whispering.

"Thank you so much." Before stepping toward the microphone.

As she turned, facing the sea of the world’s most influential artists, the weight of the moment finally settled on her. She was with her second award in her hands.

She barely had time to process it before her gaze instinctively found Chris.

He was standing at their table, hands tucked into his pants pockets, eyes locked onto hers. And when she hesitated, nerves bubbling up again, he gave her the smallest nod.

A simple movement.

But one that made her chest ache in the best way.

Y/N exhaled, adjusting her grip on the award.

"I- uh, I think I blacked out for a second there."

The room laughed, the tension easing instantly.

Y/N smiled, shaking her head.

"I genuinely don’t even know where to start. Again. This... this is insane."

She swallowed, her grip tightening on the Grammy as she steadied herself. The applause had started to fade, giving her space to speak, but her mind was still spinning.

"Lavender Haze is about love." She let the words settle, looking down for a brief moment before lifting her gaze straight to him. "The kind of love that blocks out the noise. The kind that just is, no matter what’s said, no matter what’s assumed. The kind that’s real."

Chris’s expression didn’t change, but she saw it, the slight shift in his jaw, the way his fingers curled against his palm, like he was physically stopping himself from reacting too much. From crumbling, maybe.

"This song wouldn’t exist without that love." Y/N wet her lips, heart hammering. "Without him."

A murmur rippled through the audience. People turned toward Chris, whose head finally dropped for half a second, his tongue running over his bottom lip before he glanced back up at her.

Y/N barely heard the movement. Barely noticed the cameras zooming in on them, barely cared about the entire world watching, because this wasn’t for them.

"This music is for you, Chris." Her voice was softer now, but no less sure. "And about you. And because of you."

Chris inhaled sharply, his chest rising with the movement. He was blinking faster now, his lips parting slightly, his entire body still, like if he moved, even a little, he’d break.

"You have been my safe place in ways I never even thought possible." Y/N continued, her voice thick with emotion. "You have shown me love in a way that makes the rest of the world fade out. And I wrote this because I needed people to hear what that feels like."

A pause.

Chris pressed his knuckles against his mouth, his gaze locked onto her like she had gravity itself wrapped around her fingers.

"So, I don’t need to thank anyone else for this." Y/N said simply, shaking her head. "This is you. This was always you."

The room was silent.

The world was silent.

Then, like a tidal wave, the applause crashed back over the moment, a roar of cheers and shouts as the weight of her words settled over the audience.

Chris didn’t move.

Didn’t clap.

Didn’t even breathe for a second.

He just looked at her with the most bright blue eyes.

She nodded, finally stepping back from the mic, Trevor clapping beside her before escorting her off stage.

And the second she made it back to her table, Chris was there.

Before she could even react, he pulled her against him, lips finding hers in a way that had the cameras flashing wildly, had people cooing, but none of it mattered.

Because for Y/N, all that existed was him.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

Five nominations.

Five won awards.

She did it.

She had won five Grammys tonight.

She still couldn’t fully process it.

The air outside the main salon was crisp with the late-night chill, but Y/N barely felt it. The sheer exhaustion in her limbs, the dull ache in her feet from hours in high heels, and the weight - both literal and emotional - of the five golden Grammys in her hands left her in a haze.

Chris walked beside her, just as tired, but his expression was still warm with lingering pride. His free hand held two of her awards, his fingers occasionally brushing against hers as they made their way toward the grey wall - the makeshift backdrop set up just for the winners to take their photos.

Y/N’s sharp eyes were quick to spot something - or rather, someone - familiar.

Cole Walliser. The photographer behind every iconic Glambot moment and best photographs at major award shows.

The moment Cole noticed her, his face lit up in recognition, and he immediately called out.

"Y/N! Oh my god, look at these babies!" He gestured toward her stack of trophies, shaking his head in disbelief. "Get over here. You already know the drill!"

Y/N laughed, already making her way toward him, Chris trailing behind her with a wide smile.

"Oh, I think I remember it."

Cole smirked, playing along.

"Yeah? You sure about that? Feels like I’ve only filmed you a dozen times or so."

"Something like that." She teased before gesturing toward Chris with her head. "Brought a friend this time."

Chris scoffed, giving her the most offended look.

"Friend my ass."

Y/N burst into laughter, nudging him playfully, while Cole chuckled at their dynamic.

"Alright, what’s the game plan? We need to show these off."

Y/N barely had time to respond before Chris was already moving, helping her adjust the awards so she could hold them all without them toppling over.

"Wait, wait, here, give me that one." His voice was soft, concentrated, as he carefully restacked them, his touch both gentle and efficient. "Alright, you good? You got ‘em?"

She let out a breathy laugh, adjusting her grip.

"Yeah, I think so."

Cole grinned, stepping back to gesture toward the marked spot in front of the camera.

"Perfect, then. Right this way, Ms. Sturniolo."

Y/N choked on a laugh, and Chris practically beamed.

"Ms. Sturniolo, huh?" Chris turned to her, eyes shining with excitement, his grip on her lower back tightening slightly as he guided her onto the designated Glambot mark. "I like the sound of it."

Y/N rolled her eyes, but her laughter betrayed how much she loved seeing him so giddy.

"Don’t let it get to your head, Mr. Sturniolo."

Chris grinned.

"Oh, it’s already there."

As Cole called out instructions, Chris stepped back, giving her space, but he didn’t leave. Instead, he lingered off to the side, watching her with the biggest, most heart-wrenchingly proud smile on his face.

Y/N could feel his gaze on her as she smiled to Cole’s moving camera. She tilted her head, posing slightly, but every time she caught Chris’s eyes in the background, her lips twitched into a barely-contained grin.

She couldn’t help it.

This moment was surreal.

She was standing there, arms full of Grammys, while her person stood just a few feet away, looking at her like she had hung the damn stars in the sky.

After a few more clicks, she shifted the weight of the awards in her arms before looking toward Waliser.

"Can we do one with Chris?" She asked, glancing between the camera and Chris himself.

Cole barely hesitated, quickly nodding.

"Oh, absolutely! Christopher, hop in!"

Chris blinked.

"Oh, I mean- I wasn’t-"

"Oh, shut up and get over here." Y/N teased, a playful glint in her tired eyes.

Chris huffed a soft chuckle before stepping forward, standing beside her as she started redistributing the awards.

"Here." She murmured, placing two specific trophies into his hands.

Song of the Year and Album of the Year.

Chris furrowed his brows slightly, glancing down at the awards before looking back at her.

"Doll-"

"These two." She said softly, eyes locking onto his. "I only got because of you."

His throat bobbed as he swallowed, his fingers tightening around the trophies instinctively.

"Y/N-"

"Just hold them with me." She whispered, nudging him gently.

Chris exhaled through his nose, his lips pressing into a thin line before he gave in, nodding as they both turned to face the camera.

Cole then gave play on his camera, but Y/N barely paid attention to it. She could feel Chris's eyes at her again, his expression unreadable, almost like he was too full of emotion to put it into words.

When the last one was taken, Chris nudged her shoulder lightly.

"C’mon, superstar. Let’s get out of here."

She didn’t hesitate.

After exchanging warm goodbyes with Cole, Y/N and Chris started making their way toward the private exit where their Range Rover was waiting.

Y/N’s entire body felt like it was dragging now, the adrenaline wearing off fast. She wanted nothing more than to be curled up at home, in bed, preferably with Chris’s arms around her.

But before they could reach the doors-

"Y/N!"

A reporter suddenly appeared in front of them, stepping way too close for comfort. Y/N barely had time to react before the microphone was practically in her face.

"So, are you guys heading to the after-party?" The woman asked, her tone almost demanding, her smile overly eager. "What are the plans for the rest of the night?"

Y/N blinked, momentarily stunned by how aggressive the approach was.

Chris, on the other hand... His entire expression darkened. His jaw clenched, and his brows furrowed deeply, his grip tightening around the awards as he took a subtle step closer to Y/N, his entire posture radiating protectiveness.

If looks could kill, the woman would’ve been vaporized on the spot.

But before Chris could say anything, Y/N, despite being exhausted, handled it perfectly.

She didn’t flinch. Didn’t react.

Instead, she simply smiled, a polite, but pointed smile.

"I’m heading home, actually." She said smoothly, adjusting the awards in her arms. "To my family." The reporter barely had time to respond before Y/N added. "Thank you so much. Have a great night."

And just like that, she turned, walking away.

Chris blinked. Then, a slow, smug smirk crept onto his lips as he followed her.

Y/N didn’t give the woman another second of her time. She just kept walking, invisibly pulling Chris with her, her arm brushing against his with every step, greeting and thanking each staff member in the way with warm smiles.

Chris let out a low chuckle as they reached the car, expertly balancing both awards in one hand while using the other to pull open the door for her.

"Damn. That was smooth." His voice was warm, laced with amusement.

Y/N smirked at him over her shoulder, eyes twinkling despite the exhaustion sinking in.

"I’m too tired to deal with more people tonight."

Chris snorted, watching as she slid into the leather seat with a sigh of relief.

"Fair enough."

When he finally climbed into the seat beside hers, he shut the door with a groan, leaning his head back for a second before exhaling slowly.

And just like that, the moment they were sealed inside the warm car, blocking the sounds of loud voices and clicks, the exhaustion slammed into them both.

Y/N melted into the headrest, her eyes falling shut as she let out a deep, heavy breath.

"I feel like I ran a marathon."

Chris chuckled under his breath, rolling his shoulders to ease the tension.

"You did. An emotional one."

She hummed in agreement, her breathing slowing as the exhaustion took hold. Chris reached over instinctively, finding her hand in the dim light of the car, fingers slotting between hers with ease.

His thumb brushed over her knuckles, slow and deliberate, grounding her in the quiet.

"M’so proud of you, baby." His voice was soft, almost a whisper, like he didn’t want to disturb the peacefulness settling over them.

Y/N turned her head toward him, eyelids heavy, but her lips curled into the smallest, sleepiest smile.

"Love you."

Chris lifted their joined hands without hesitation, pressing a gentle kiss to her knuckles, lingering there for just a second longer than necessary.

"Love you more."

She let her eyes flicker down, gaze landing on the golden awards sprawled across her lap and the seat beside her. She reached out, fingertips tracing the engravings, still not entirely believing they were hers.

She let out a thoughtful hum. Five more Grammys.

"We’re gonna have to find space for these at home." She murmured, brows knitting together as she looked over at Chris. "I have no idea where we’re putting them."

Chris chuckled, shaking his head.

"Already taken care of."

She raised an eyebrow.

"What?"

"Nick ordered a whole-ass display cabinet for that empty wall across from the kitchen." He admitted, shooting her a knowing look. "Figured we’d need it."

Y/N blinked, her lips parting slightly.

"He-"

"Yeah." Chris smirked. "So, we’ll put these there with the others from the past years..." He paused, his eyes twinkling playfully. "Until there’s no room left, popstar."

Y/N huffed a soft laugh, shaking her head before leaning over to press a quick kiss to his cheek.

"At this rate." She teased, nuzzling his soft skin. "We’ll need a whole new house."

It was no surprise when, in the next TikTok, the boys recorded in their kitchen, the cabinet full of awards served as the background.

© vanteguccir

[moonlightwritingf1]

Raw | LN4

𐙚 summary ━━━━━━━ Lando and Y/N have sex without a condom for the first time. He cums inside her.

𐙚 pairing ━━━━━━━ Lando Norris x she!reader

𐙚 word count ━━━━━━━ 2.3k

𐙚 warnings ━━━━━━━ +18, sexual content, p in v, unprotected sex, creampie

Based on this request.

Y/n stretched lazily on the couch, her toes curling into the soft fabric as she scrolled absently through her phone. The faint hum of London’s evening traffic drifted through the open window, but her mind was elsewhere—specifically, on Lando. They had been officially together for seven months now, and every moment with him felt like a whirlwind of emotions, teasing, and undeniable chemistry. But tonight… tonight was different.

She glanced at the clock. He would be here any minute. Her heart fluttered, and she bit her lip, trying to suppress the nervous excitement bubbling inside her. They had talked about this earlier in the day, a conversation that had started with casual banter and ended with something much more intimate.

No condom, she thought, her cheeks flushing. She had finally decided to bring it up after weeks of consideration. After all, she was on birth control now, and the idea of feeling him—really feeling him—without any barriers had been on her mind more often than she cared to admit. When she mentioned it, Lando’s reaction had been… well, typical Lando. A mix of playful teasing and genuine enthusiasm. “Bold move, love,” he had said, his voice low and edged with mischief. “But I’m not complaining.”

The sound of the doorbell startled her out of her thoughts. She smoothed her hands over her jeans, took a deep breath, and walked to the door. There he was, leaning casually against the frame, his signature smirk already in place. His eyes lit up when he saw her, and she couldn’t help but smile back.

“Took you long enough,” she teased, stepping aside to let him in.

“Traffic,” he replied, shrugging off his jacket and tossing it onto the chair. “And you know how impatient I get when I’m coming to see you.”

She rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide the warmth that spread through her chest. God, he’s impossible. And yet, there was something about his unapologetic confidence that made her knees weak.

He stepped closer, his hand brushing against hers. “So… about earlier…”

Her breath hitched. “What about it?”

His grin widened, and he moved even closer, until she could feel the heat radiating from his body. “You sure you’re ready for this?”

She swallowed hard, trying to ignore the way her pulse quickened. “Are you?”

That earned her a laugh, deep and rich, and he cupped her face in his hands. “Always, love. Always.”

Their lips met in a kiss that started slow but quickly deepened, his tongue sweeping into her mouth with a hunger that made her head spin. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer, losing herself in the taste and feel of him. His hands slid down her back, settling on her hips, and he lifted her effortlessly, carrying her toward the bedroom without breaking the kiss.

When her back hit the mattress, he pulled away just enough to look at her, his eyes filled with desire. “You’re so fucking beautiful,” he murmured, trailing his fingers along her jawline.

She shivered under his touch, her body already responding to him in ways that left her breathless. “Flattery won’t get you everywhere, Norris.”

“Oh, I think it just did,” he quipped, sliding his hands under her shirt and lifting it over her head. His eyes raked over her bare skin, and he let out a low whistle. “Definitely everywhere.”

She laughed, but it quickly turned into a gasp as his lips found her neck, nipping and sucking lightly. His hands worked skillfully at the clasp of her bra, and within seconds, it joined her shirt on the floor. He groaned at the sight of her, his thumbs brushing over her nipples, and she arched into his touch, a soft moan escaping her lips.

“Lando…” she breathed, her hands fumbling with the buttons of his shirt. He helped her, shrugging it off and letting it fall to the floor. Her fingers traced the lines of his chest, marveling at the way his muscles tensed under her touch.

He was lean, yes, but there was a strength to him that always surprised her. Maybe it was the way he carried himself—confident, assured—or maybe it was the way he looked at her, like she was the only thing that mattered in the world. Whatever it was, it made her feel things she hadn’t felt in years. Things she hadn’t thought she could feel.

He leaned down, capturing her lips again, and she tangled her fingers in his hair, pulling him closer. Their bodies pressed together, skin against skin, and she could feel the hardness of him through his jeans. She rocked her hips against his, earning a growl from deep in his throat.

“Fuck, baby,” he muttered, his hands sliding down to undo her jeans. He tugged them off, along with her panties, and paused for a moment to just look at her. His gaze was intense, almost reverent, and it made her heart race.

“What?” she asked, suddenly self-conscious.

“Nothing,” he said softly, shaking his head. “Just… you’re perfect.”

She blushed, averting her eyes, but he caught her chin, forcing her to look at him. “Don’t do that,” he said firmly. “Don’t look away. I want to see you. All of you.”

Her breath caught, and she nodded, unable to speak. Slowly, he trailed his fingers down her body, touching her everywhere but where she wanted him most. She squirmed beneath him, frustration building with every teasing stroke.

“Lando…” she whined, her hips lifting off the bed in silent pleading.

He chuckled, low and wicked. “Patience, love. Good things come to those who wait.”

“I’ve waited long enough,” she retorted, grasping his wrist and guiding his hand between her legs.

He groaned when he felt how wet she was, his fingers slipping easily through her folds. “Holy shit, baby,” he murmured, his voice thick with need. “You’re absolutely soaking wet.”

She gasped as he slipped a finger inside her, her back arching off the bed. His thumb circled her clit, sending sparks of pleasure shooting through her body. He added another finger, stretching her, preparing her, and she whimpered, rocking her hips against his hand.

“Please,” she begged, her nails digging into his shoulders. “I need you.”

He didn’t make her beg twice. He stripped off his jeans and boxers, his cock springing free, hard and leaking. She reached for him, wrapping her hand around his length, and he hissed at the contact, his hips jerking forward.

“Careful,” he warned, though his tone was anything but serious. “Or I might not last long enough to make this worth your while.”

She smirked, giving him a little squeeze. “Promises, promises.”

He laughed, shaking his head, and then he was positioning himself between her legs, the tip of his cock pressing against her entrance. He hesitated for a moment, his eyes locking with hers. “This is really what you want?”

She nodded, reaching up to cup his face. “Yes. I want to feel you. All of you.”

He kissed her gently, a stark contrast to the desperation they both felt, and then he pushed into her, slowly, inch by excruciating inch. Neither of them broke eye contact, and she could see the exact moment he felt her completely—the way his eyes darkened, the way his breath hitched, the way his entire body seemed to shudder.

“Fuck,” he whispered, his voice rough. “You feel… Jesus, you feel amazing.”

She couldn’t agree more. The sensation of him inside her, without any barriers, was unlike anything she had ever experienced. Every vein, every ridge—she could feel it all, and it was overwhelming in the best possible way.

He began to move, his thrusts slow and deliberate, each one driving her closer to the edge. She clung to him, her legs wrapping around his waist, pulling him deeper. Their breaths mingled, their bodies moving together in perfect sync, and for the first time in her life, she felt truly, completely connected to someone.

“Lando,” she moaned, her fingers tangling in his hair. “Don’t stop.”

“Never,” he promised, his voice strained.

Lando’s lips brushed against her ear, his breath warm and ragged as he whispered, “You have no idea how good you feel right now.” His voice was low, husky, and dripping with desire, sending a shiver down her spine that made her arch into him. His hands roamed her body, tracing every curve, every dip, as if he were memorizing her all over again—and perhaps he was.

“I want to make you feel everything,” he continued, his teeth grazing her earlobe gently before he kissed the sensitive spot just below it. “Every inch of you… I want to worship it. I want to devour you.”

Her breath hitched at his words, her body responding instantly. She could feel him inside her, every movement, every thrust, intensifying the pleasure coursing through her. His cock felt like it was made for her, stretching her in ways she hadn’t known were possible, filling her completely.

Lando’s hands slid down to her hips, gripping them firmly as he pulled her closer, driving himself deeper. “You’re so fucking tight,” he groaned, his voice strained with effort. “And wet—Jesus, Y/n, you’re absolutely soaking. I can feel you… all of you.”

“Lando…” she whimpered, her voice trembling as she felt herself unraveling under him. Her nails dug into his shoulders, desperate for something to hold onto as the sensations overwhelmed her. The way he moved inside her, slow yet deliberate, was driving her insane. She could feel the tension building, coiling tightly in her core, ready to snap.

His lips found hers again, capturing her moans as he kissed her deeply, his tongue sliding against hers in a rhythm that matched his thrusts. He broke the kiss only to whisper against her lips, “I love how responsive you are. How you move with me. How you take me.” His words were like gasoline to the fire already burning within her, igniting something primal, something raw.

Her hands moved to his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath her fingertips. She could feel how hard he was working to keep control, to keep his movements steady, but she could also sense the desperation in him. The way his breath quickened, the way his muscles tensed—it was as if he were holding back, waiting for her to fall first.

But she didn’t want to fall alone.

“Harder,” she pleaded, her voice barely above a whisper but filled with urgency. “Please, Lando… I need more.”

He didn’t hesitate. His thrusts became harder, faster, each one hitting that perfect spot deep inside her that had her seeing stars. She gasped, her head falling back as the pleasure intensified, threatening to consume her entirely. “Fuck, y/n,” he growled, his hands tightening on her hips. “You feel too good. I’m losing my mind here.”

She could feel it too—the way his control was slipping, the way his rhythm faltered slightly as pleasure overtook him. But instead of pulling back, he pushed forward, giving her everything he had. His cock pulsed inside her, as if begging for release, but he held on, determined to bring her with him.

His lips found her neck, kissing and sucking at the sensitive skin there as he murmured against it, “I want to cum inside you. Can I? Please, baby, I need to feel you come around me.”

Her eyes fluttered open, meeting his gaze briefly before she nodded, her voice breaking as she whispered, “Yes… please.”

That was all the permission he needed. His thrusts became erratic, his breathing ragged as he gave in to the overwhelming pleasure. She could feel him twitching inside her, feel the heat building as he approached the edge. And then, with a groan that sounded almost primal, he came, spilling himself deep inside her.

The moment his hot seed filled her, something inside her snapped. The tension that had been building in her core exploded, and she cried out, her body convulsing around him as wave after wave of pleasure washed over her. It was unlike anything she had ever felt—intense, all-consuming, and utterly perfect.

Her legs trembled, her grip on him loosening as she fell back against the bed, completely spent. Lando followed her down, his weight pressing her into the mattress as he buried his face in her neck, his breath coming in short, shallow gasps.

For a moment, they simply lay there, their bodies still connected, their hearts racing in sync. Then, slowly, Lando lifted his head to look at her, his eyes filled with emotion. He reached up, brushing a strand of hair from her face as he whispered, “You’re incredible. Absolutely fucking incredible.”

She couldn’t help but smile, her body still tingling from the aftershocks of their shared climax. “So are you,” she replied softly, her hand resting on his cheek. She could feel the warmth of his skin beneath her palm, the stubble rough yet comforting.

He leaned into her touch, his eyes never leaving hers. “I meant what I said earlier,” he murmured, his voice low and sincere. “I want to worship you. Every part of you. Body, mind, soul… you’re mine, Y/n. All of you.”

Her heart skipped a beat at his words, the intensity in his gaze making her stomach flutter. She knew he meant it—every word, every promise. And for the first time, she allowed herself to believe it. To believe in him.

Before she could respond, he kissed her again, this time soft and lingering, as if sealing a promise she wasn’t even sure she was ready to make. As their lips parted, he whispered, “Sleep, love. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

And for once, she didn’t argue. She simply closed her eyes, her body sinking into the mattress as exhaustion claimed her. But just as sleep began to pull her under, she felt his arms wrap around her, holding her close, keeping her safe.

In that moment, she felt truly, completely his. And she wouldn’t have it any other way.

[ramonathinks]

(18+, minors/blank accounts dni)

jealous ex husband gojo who just can't keep stand seeing you with someone else. he hates that you gave up on him, hates that you don't wear your ring anymore even though he does and he wears it proudly.

"you have a date tonight, the girls tell me." busted. you cringe and eye you little daughters, only six the both of them but you told them to keep quiet about the situation.

"yes..." you reply, anxiously awaiting his response.

you could just picture his face now, nose a bit flared and lips pursed. with clenched teeth he said, "alright, have fun." but it wasn't that simple.

he always kept close watch on you and it made you nervous with how simple it left the conversation. "well, i could come pick the girls up before then. about 8-ish?" he asks and you say yes before hanging up.

gojo was always too busy which was what led to the divorce. you'd both married young, 20 and stayed together since but when the girls turned 3 you had enough and just left. he wasn't being there enough for you or the girls and it hurt.

when he pulled up you cursed yourself for getting ready so early. your hair in long curls and a knee length skirt with a small slit on the left leg. he didn't bothering knocking or waiting for you to open the door, he had keys and you knew this so you continued with your makeup.

he was standing there watching you but you ignored him. or tried to but he walked closer and closer until he was right in your face. "how beautiful, you are." he held your jaw and forced you to look at him.

"why don't you ditch this date and come with me?" he asked, bringing your lower reign to his. "don't you miss me baby?" he nipped at your skin and the memories and feelings were coming back.

you had to be strong. you swallowed and pulled his back from you. "you have to stop this, im sure you have someone out there satoru, but she isn't me." you tried to walk off but he grabbed your wrist and brought you to your bedroom.

"y/n, so you think anyone can make you feel as good as i make you feel? don't you know i love you? my feelings never left and i know yours haven't." he rubs you through your panties and kisses you on your lips.

"everything can be different now." he promises, easing his way between your legs. his heavy cock entering you slowly, it was only the tip so far but it was splitting you open. you'd been without sex for two years and now tears were in your eyes.

"you think he can fill you up like me?" he adjusts himself and enters more of his cock into you. he was still so big, you were choking. you could feel him in your tummy and in your throat.

"you're always going to be mine, so stop running." he told you as he jerked his hips. "stop trying to let this go baby?"

"satoru—"

"mommy! the door!" one of the girls yelled.

"shh," satoru brought a finger to your lips and leaned forward to make love to your mouth. it was too much and you both were drooling after just a few minutes, he pulled himself out of you and looked at his wet cock.

"think about what i said." it was hard to forget. you clenched your legs together after you cleaned yourself up, not even wanting to face your date.

not even wanting to face your ex-husband either.

[nichuuu]

Analogous

Shin Yuna x Im Nayeon x M reader

(2nd instalment of De Selby)

Word count: 14k+

“A younger girl… And I’m talking much younger. Eight years younger than me I think.”

Normally, it feels like you’re worlds apart from Nayeon in her bed. You’re just her toy, her plaything, her doll.

Tonight though: it feels like she’s in the same world as you. She feels here — emotionally and physically present as her nails trace circles on your bare chest. Maybe it’s a trick of the light, or maybe even classic manipulation, but she feels like more than just someone who you fuck on the weekends.

“And you won’t be jealous?” you ask, indulging yourself and playing with her hair a little. She scoffs.

“You talk like we’re dating.” She shifts so that she has a cheek on your shoulder. A relationship with her wouldn’t really fly: she’s not gonna let you take care of her when she loves control more than anything. Still, it’s nice to dream about holding her hand sometimes. “I have no reason to be jealous, so why would I be?”

(It’s a question you’re asking yourself too honestly.)

“Dunno,” you muse, admittedly a little disheartened, “maybe it’s cause you’re kinda freaky… Just a thought.”

She smirks. “Trust me. A younger girl in this thing we’ve got going on isn’t gonna affect anything.” She starts tapping her nails against your chest. “Besides… You know you’re mine.”

Oh…

(Not sure how to feel about that last part.)

*

Last you checked: you weren’t expecting a guest today. 

“Uh,” you can’t help but mutter past her lips as you stagger back into your own apartment. She lifts her lips off yours out of consideration, and she takes a few moments to soak in the look of mixed emotions that has made its way onto your face. You don’t mean to be rude when you point at the other girl and ask, “do you wanna perhaps wanna, you know, fill me in on what’s going on here?”

Im Nayeon turns, looks over her shoulder, smiles. She turns back, cups your cheek with her hand. 

“Thought I’d bring some company tonight, just to spice things up.” Nayeon tells you, turning your head in a way that lets you get a good look at the younger girl standing at the door to your apartment. “Hope you don’t mind.” With her other hand, she makes a come hither motion, and tells the girl to close the door on her way in. The girl does as she’s told, and when she’s next to the both of you, Nayeon takes her by the hand and pulls her closer. 

“Introduce yourself sweetie,” Nayeon instructs—firm yet almost saccharine. Nayeon lets her thumb rub over the girl’s knuckles, a deceivingly sweet smile playing on her lips. “Tell him what we’ve rehearsed. Go on.”

She’s an eye-catcher for sure—the other girl, not Nayeon. Not that Nayeon isn’t already turning heads when she walks just about anywhere, but more that the other girl is just a rather far cry from what you're comfortable with. You’re so used to Nayeon’s gentle, piercing eyes that can probably break you with a look from her; those small, plump lips of hers that kiss you with precision and passion; those bunny cheeks that you love pinching so damn much that it probably should be considered an addiction. But this girl brings something new to the table, and you have to admit that it’s refreshing. 

Smoky, kinda innocent eyes that have a whole foot in the territory of doleful and another foot in the realm of entrancing; luscious long black hair; a face that could make just about anyone melt. Nayeon’s guest is certainly a few years younger than her, and certainly less lecherous than her senior at first glance. You don’t really know where or how Nayeon could pick up a girl that looks as sweet as this, and you certainly want to find out how a girl that looks like the textbook definition of ‘smoking hot’ could ever end up in a place like this. She’s clearly nervous, but you give her credit for being able to stand perfectly still with Nayeon’s hand starting to roam up her arm. 

“I’m Yuna… But you can call me whatever you want.”

The sentence has Nayeon’s fingerprints all over it, and you can assume with full certainty that she’s had this idea stewing in her head for at least a week or two. The smug grin on Nayeon’s face tells you that things are going according to plan, and her fingers latch themselves around Yuna’s forearm. 

“She’s a fun one to play with.” Now she’s directed her attention to you, looking right at you as she pulls the younger woman even close to the both of you: till you can literally feel Yuna’s breath in your ear. “A young little slut to spice things up.”

Nayeon takes her attention away from you, and with gentle hands on Yuna’s cheeks, she pulls the younger girl in for a kiss. It’s simple—no tongue or anything—but it’s enough to make the younger girl squirm a little where she stands. Nayeon’s clearly taking pleasure in this. Even with her lips locked with a girl younger than her, you can clearly see the whisper of a cheeky smile playing on the corners of her lips. You wonder if she’s gonna get more joy out of this than you at the end of the day.

The younger girl is released from the fierce lip-lock. She looks dazed, like she just took a hit of a blunt. Nayeon admires her craftsmanship for a moment, taking in the look on the poor girl’s face as she chuckles softly to herself, “oh my… Someone wasn’t quite ready, was she?”

Yuna’s at a clear loss for words. She tries to speak; her words fail her. You can’t exactly blame her though. Nayeon just kinda chooses when and where to be a bit of a minx, and you just have to roll with it. It’s fun, kinda hot; but not when you’re in a horrible place to get it and she decides that she just wants to blow you at some restaurant that you’re at. It’s a bit of a handful really, and you don’t quite know what to do with her sometimes. Wonder how Yuna fares?

“It’s okay,” Nayeon assures her, “you’re in good company now, though you're free to just watch if you’re still shy.”

The younger girl looks at her senior, then at you, then back to her senior. “I think I’d like to join in on this.”

Nayeon beams, her smile almost sweet if it isn’t for the fact that she’s quite literally happy to see a younger girl get it on with you and her. “That’s the spirit.”

And it’s confusing really: figuring out which of them is gonna make the first move. Yuna’s energy gives her an air of uncertainty, but you can sense some mischief within her that resonates at the same frequency of Nayeon’s. Yet there’s something a little different about her that you can’t quite place your finger on. Her youth is a breath of fresh air; there’s that young energy in her smile towards Nayeon that tells you that she’s eager but somewhat cautious. You would call her a mirror of Nayeon as they start discussing how she wants it, but you pick up on a bit of pickiness in her voice  that strays from Nayeon’s attitude. The older girl before you will take it however she likes, fuck herself on your cock till she cums and kinda leave you high and dry. Yuna on the other hand has some grungy ideas of where she wants you to cum and how she wants it to happen.

Okay, let’s return to home base and consolidate: they're similar but different; kinda conflicting yet go together like dinner and diatribes on a family reunion. There’s reason to believe that they are somewhat two sides of the same coin, yet simple observation contradicts the notion. Bottom line – it’s confusing.

“You know what?” Nayeon has a finger twirled in Yuna’s hair as she casts a glance at you. “How about we get you naked first… Then we figure out what we can do?”

Yuna seems to enjoy the proposal. The two women look at you, and Nayeon gestures with her head to come closer. As your feet land on the wood floor, Nayeon goes at a slower pace of walking as she rounds Yuna and stands behind her. She’s shorter than her by a considerable amount, but it doesn’t make her any less imposing as she pokes her head out from Yuna’s right side.

“Go on. Unwrap her,” Nayeon whispers, running a hand up Yuna’s stomach. “Let’s see what she has in store for us…”

And Yuna is more than glad to lift her arms up for you as you pull her sweater off her body. The girl has an amazing body – you’d give her that. Slim waist, wide hips, hourglass figures so defined that the sands of time would be jealous. A body to die for really, and the appeal only increases as she reaches behind her back and unclips her bra. Nayeon smiles as she tosses her article of clothing aside. 

“Tight and forthcoming?” The older woman muses. “Looks like we have quite the toy on our hands.”

Yuna’s gaze is almost searing as you step up to her. Her breathing is kinda unsteady, but you can’t exactly blame her. She’s half naked in front of two older people, with one of them running her hands along her smooth skin while the other cock their head and examine her from head to toe. If you were in her shoes, your blood would be racing and boiling fast. 

“Do what you want with me,” she whispers. She reaches forward and grasps your crotch through your pants. “I’m yours to take.”

You raise your eyebrows. “Did Nayeon teach you that?”

“Nope.” Speak of the devil and she doth answer on the younger woman’s behalf. “I only told her how to introduce herself, didn’t tell her what to say after,” Nayeon explains, a glint in her eye as she stares up at Yuna’s face. “Is it kinda fucked up if I wanna see her suck your dick?”

Yuna glances at her senior, then returns her gaze to you. “A little… But we can make it happen.”

Another point of difference – 2 actually: she doesn’t play around with her words and she’s pretty proactive. You like that. 

It’s a mess as you fumble with clothes, but it doesn’t take long for you guys to rid Yuna of the rest of her clothing and have her on her knees in the living room carpet. Her hands are delicate as she pulls down on the waistband of your boxers and frees your cock, and their even more so when she grips your throbbing shaft with both hands. On the chair that Nayeon pushed you onto, you watch her eyes as they survey what she’s working with.

“Wow…” she mutters, looking over to the right where Nayeon’s lounging on the sofa. “You had this all to yourself?”

Nayeon’s lips slant at an angle. “I know right? Better than any dildo you can find on the market.”

Yuna takes a moment to really look at the cock in her hands, eyes full of lustful wonder as she takes it in from all angles. She lets her mouth hang open for a little as she processes what she’s seeing, then she asks, “how does she even walk the next morning? I mean… This thing is girthy as fuck. Would probably split me open if I’m not careful.”

“It won’t,” Nayeon answers rather spontaneously, tapping her finger against a cushion as she watches Yuna pump your shaft with her lanky fingers. “It’ll fill you just right,” she leans against the handrest of the couch, watching intently as you push away some hair from Yuna’s face, “though I think it’ll look the best in your mouth.”

Yuna gets the gist. Her cheek presses itself against the inside of your thigh as she lifts your shaft and kisses it at the base, and she works her way up to the tip while one hand keeps your twitching cock steady. She gets to your head, and her lips take the sensitive part of you about halfway in, making sure you're looking (and you mean, like, really looking) as she lets her tongue lick the precum off from your leaking tip. Once she’s certain that she has your fullest attention, her jaw slacks and her shoulders rise; she takes a breath, closes her eyes.

There’s the hiss of an inhale — from you — as your head tilts back against the backrest while your cock enters the warm wet tavern of her mouth. She’s almost methodical in the way she takes you in, stopping halfway to adjust the angle of her head so that she can push forwards and down and drive the rest of your meat into your mouth. Her hands steady her, resting against your thighs as she tears a little. She’s a little more patient than her senior, waiting for a bit before she starts moving at a steady pace. Spit’s starting to drip down to her chin – will probably ruin the carpet if you cared enough (and you don’t). Nayeon’s been meaning to change this damn thing anyway. It’s seen too many juices and some dog piss in it from when her pomeranian was over those few times.

“Jesus,” is all you can hiss, through closed teeth of course. The young girl is nothing short of heavenly; she’s almost perfect at taking your dick as she starts to bob her head. The gurgling is kinda loud; spit flows like a stream down your shaft, only to be collected by that fastidious mouth as it traces a path – up and down and up and down. You wonder if there’s some make-up to be ruined.

“Won’t you look at that?” And you don’t even need to look over at the couch to know that Nayeon’s playing with herself. The squelching tells you lots, but the way her speech is kinda breathy tells you more than you need to know. She’s probably really turned by the sight of a younger woman taking cock into her mouth, riled up at the sight of tears flowing down her youthful cheeks. It’s borderline voyeuristic, pretty fucking freaky but also kinda hot. That’s her whole brand anyway. “She’s fucking taking your dick. My god…”

Yuna gurgles on your dick – probably some reply she’s trying to give but fails to because she has dick in her mouth. The suckle of her lips; the slide of her tongue against the base of your shaft; her throat kinda convulsing as she struggles and struggles – you don’t know if it’s all gonna be a bit too much, but now you’re really focusing on not trying to hurt her while your hands grab a handful of her hair in a fist. You’re assisting—or maybe forcing… Low-key goes both ways when there’s a very, very fine line between the two in this context—her, pulling her into your crotch and pushing her off just to pull her in again. It’s a vicious cycle – kinda doubling on the meaning while also butchering it: harsh and repetitive but there’s not a fucking instance where this produces a detrimental result.   

She comes up for air, your shaft pretty much dripping with spit as she takes a moment to gather herself. The gasping is hot, and so is the way she wipes her spit towards her mouth with the back of her hand. “God this is… Fuck...” she mutters, licking her lips while her fist is in constant fluid motion. Bruce Lee would be proud: she is like water.

“Keep it up darling,” the motions of Nayeon’s wrist have gotten quite sharp, sudden and lacking interval. Okay, maybe not sudden, but more… Desperate. It’s not like she isn’t gonna get her fair share of cock or anything, but she hasn’t been over for a while. There’s only so much that a vibrator and her fingers can do; she kinda needs to see it and revel in it for her to actually get off properly. You don’t know if watching a young girl take dick into her mouth is softening the blow dealt to her senses, but you kinda know that it’s still doing a number on her because she’s completely hiked up the hem of her dress to fuck herself with her fingers. There’s not much thought behind her actions, but she’s definitely letting herself go a little wild for the night. She is being indulged after all. 

“Am I doing good?” Yuna inquires, and it’s a question directed to both of you really. You give her a nod; Nayeon’s answer is verbal: Keep that up and you’re gonna make two people cum in the next five minutes. The young girl is pleased. She lets her tongue swirl around your tip, lick the cock before her from base to tip and sneak in some scissoring flicks of her tongue. Your hand finds itself on her cheek, thumb massaging the bone just above the flesh as she giggles and tosses her hair.

“You’re a doll,” you tell her. She smiles.

“That’s one of the many names I’ve been called,” she replies, letting your spit-covered head rub against her cheek. “Though I like the name cumslut the most.”

Oh.

Your grip on her cheek becomes more firm. “Okay then,” and your pushing her to the left so that her lips are in line with your head. “Open wide you fucking cumslut.”

The enthrallment in her eyes is apparent. Obedient, subservient, forthcoming, whatever; she parts her lips and lets her tongue hang out. Her eyelids flutter shut. You pull her forward. Nayeon cusses.

You're unbelievably hard in her mouth, and your member is ever so sensitive to every movement inside those cheeks of hers. The softness of her tongue, slickness of her drool, warmth of her cheeks… Too much to focus on with so little space for appreciation. You settle on fixating on the suction, the sweet vacuum her lips form around your length as she quite literally lets her mouth get used. Two hands around her head – pulling, pushing, pulling, pushing. A hot rhythm, not quite a dance but kinda cyclical like a routine. More perverse than any street jazz choreo you’ve seen though.

“Yuna,” you mutter, “ you’re so – fuck I – ugh… Your mouth.”

Somewhere in her throat, there’s space for a hum. Her hands are behind her back, locked in place by her own accord as she lets you fuck her mouth with no qualms. It’s smooth, almost natural till she gags a little on your dick and has to blink a bit. Slip n’ slide; front and back – she just takes your cock like an obedient little slut. It’s amazing, kinda dark, but still amazing nonetheless. The gurgling and the sound that comes from her throat that’s almost like swallowing; your fingers grasping the silky strands of her hair; eyes meeting hers. Fuck. 

You're desperate for a taste of heaven. You pull her down harder, faster. 

She gags, chokes, sucks a little harder. 

“Fuck this,” Nayeon hisses. “I’m joining in.”

And she straddles you before you can even blink, kissing you fiercely like she’s gonna die the next day and this is the last time she’s seeing you. Somewhere along the way, she’d shed her clothes. Now she’s nude and kissing you, jabbing her tongue into your mouth and exploring the feel of your teeth. Your cheeks are hers to hold, your mouth hers to own. 

She breaks the torrid kiss, “Yuna,” she drawls, playing with your hair as she speaks to the girl while looking at you. “Don’t ruin him too much. Leave some fun for me.”

The vibrations sent down your shaft make you tingle from head to toe – a product of Yuna’s attempted reply. You can’t see her anymore, but you can continue to just flow with the movements of pulling and pushing against her hair as Nayeon dives between her legs to get back to work. The older woman lets a sigh escape from her lips, pushing her fingers a little deeper. You can feel the heat against your crotch. Her hands move a little faster.

“Do you have any idea,” she whispers, her voice kind of striking that middle frequency between the gurgling and the squelching. “How fucking pent up I was in that damn dorm?”

Through your teeth, you reply. “No,” and you kinda twitch a little in Yuna’s mouth. “Do tell.”

She leans in, moans into your ear for good measure. “I was dripping every other day,” she reports, a lilt in her voice as she continues her work between her thighs. “Didn’t help that Momo was bringing a guy over and I could hear them fucking through the walls… My vibrator almost died that week.”

“Well…” you shudder as you speak, a familiar tingle building up from the base of your shaft. "You’ll have to wait your fucking turn.”

She smiles, quite sadistically you might add.

“That’s alright,” she tells you. Her forehead pressed against yours. “Just leave a load for me.”

And you have to hit her with an honest reply. “I’ll always have a load for you.”

“That’s what I thought.” She straightens her back and looks down at you. “I own this dick,” she announces to her audience of two. “Now cum in her mouth. I’m gonna get her to fucking swallow your load.” The orders are barked, not said. “I wanna watch.”

And she turns her toned back to you, leaving you with the view of the delicious curve of her back as she arches it while slicking her fingers with her own juices. You’re trying to hold on, desperately, but there’s only so much you can do when the mouth around you and the two women before you are this hot.

You don’t get to see it when it happens, but you can hear it and kinda imagine it when you cum right into Yuna’s mouth. You bet it’s kinda messy, but you’ll never know. Nayeon’s ass blocks the view – a trade off: view for a view. You hear the older woman hiss her commands—“Swallow. Fucking swallow you filthy little whore”—envison the sight of the young woman struggling to down your load as it pumps ito her wet hot mouth. A groan spills from your lips; a long-drawn sigh filters from Nayeon’s chest; Yuna gulps as she takes it all.

Your dick pops out of her mouth, all messy and slick with juices. Nayeon grabs it, pumps it, and without warning – shoves it into her cunt. 

And all at once it becomes too much: your over stimulated member twitches wildly in the grasps of her slick, hot walls as it begs for a break. The pleasure is horribly abundant, so much that it almost hurts. There’s no time to process the tight heat around you, voice your need for a break. Nayeon starts bouncing on her knees.

“Oh fuck yes.” Her hands shoot behind her, the left one failing to catch the handrest the first timebut gripping it tightly on the second attempt. Her knuckles go white. “I needed this. I needed to be filled by this fucking cock of yours.”

It’s too much; another load surges forth almost instantly. The hot semen paints her walls, shoots up from your already over-sensitive head and flows down her cunt. It leaks out; the squelching gets louder. Yuna’s tongue laps up the mix of juices that flow. Nayeon continues to ride.

Your fingers dig into the flesh of her waist, desperate to assist you in grounding yourself in this seemingly unreal reality. There’s a lack of words that can really describe your predicament, and if you’re to actually bring it across in a coherent sentence, it’ll probably something along the lines of “fuck” repeated at least a million times. You’re stuck in the chain of entry and exits of her pussy, a bundle of nerves beneath Im Nayeon while she mercilessly fucks herself on your cock. Right now: your dick is nothing but a mere toy for her to get off on, and she made that very clear from the moment she started throwing herself down onto your dick.

“Nayeon…” you heave. It’s an effort to even breathe.

“Shut it,” she hisses, not even casting a glance behind her. “I’m cumming on this cock one way or another and I don’t care how many fucking loads you give me.”

Yuna crawls around to the side of the chair. You hazard a glance at the young girl. She’s messy, sweaty and has residues of cum and drool at some areas around her mouth. She reaches out into the chair and takes you by the hand, squeezing it tightly in hers as if she knows that you’re fucking fading by the second. Every slam of Nayeon’s crotch against you is a mix of pleasure and pain, her moans almost like animalistic grunts.

“Fuck… You’re really filling her,” Yuna muses, watching the older girl take her liberties with your dick. “She must be so fucking tight right now.”

You swallow. “Yeah… It’s… Fuck…”

Yuna chuckles. Watching you struggle must kinda humour a little. She gives your hand a squeeze, encouraging you to hold on to what grasp of this world you have left. Her eyes sparkle, almost envious as she sees her senior bouncing on the dick she was taking into her mouth just a few moments ago. Her other hands snakes between her legs, flits circles of respite. Two girls getting off before you, similar but different.

Go ahead. Call this shit Tuesday.

*

“Be nice to her when I’m gone.”

You aren’t sure why Nayeon would need such a huge suitcase for a 10 day trip with her family. There’s no doubt in your mind that there’s probably tonnes of products in there that she wants to bring along for the fuck of it, but the damned thing looks like it was harbouring a small child. Not that Nayeon would ever do that, but it does help to paint a clearer picture of the sheer scale of her luggage. The airport X-ray is about to have a field day with this.

“Of course.” You’re kinda obvious about your ogling from the doorway as Nayeon does her hair with nothing but her leggings on. Yuna is still fast asleep in the room that you’d prepared for her, but you still kept your volume down just to play it safe. 

Nayeon smirks at you through the mirror. “I’m sure she’ll feel right at home with you.”

“Is that sarcasm I’m hearing?”

“Take it however you like. My eyes are up here by the way.”

You chuckle and walk up behind her. “Guilty as charged mademoiselle,” you apologise, though you're not all that ashamed of th fact that she’s caught you in th act of fucking her with your eyes.

Nayeon hits you with a scoff, a rather aloof one that screams ‘got you. Thought you were slick huh?’ even though it was within your fullest intentions for her to catch you looking. She had to be fair to you in this situation — kinda hard to look at anything else. Or maybe you’re misjudging her, maybe she knows full well that you were (and still are) catching a good look at those firm, perky mounds that sit proudly atop her chest. They fit perfectly in your hands, quite like a glove—OJ Simpson would hate that it fits that well—and a nicely-fitted set of bed sheets. What the fuck does that even mean? Frankly, you can’t quite put an explanation to it yourself; you’re kinda listing things that sound and feel right to you — things that give something enjoyable that little kick it needs to become something more congenial. 

(That sort of encapsulates her whole personality honestly. She’s already something to relish, cherish; the type of girl that makes other guys say ‘she’s a keeper’ even though they don’t have the slightest idea of what she really was like beyond cameras and public appearances. Kinda horny all the time, but also wants to cuddle you to sleep and call you all sorts of pet names after you’ve blindfolded and fucked her against three different flat surfaces – maybe breaking some expensive furniture in the process. Dominant, a little stubborn and a little pissy. Need you say more?)

“But for real: make her feel at home,” she says, setting down the curling iron and switching it off. She leaves it to cool down, puts on a sweater while she waits. “Poor girl’s been through enough. I promised her a safe haven, so try to make it one.”

The context behind her request is a little baffling. Just this morning Nayeon told you of Yuna’s falling out with an alleged highschool sweetheart, and she's taking shelter with you guys till legal matters are dealt with and she’s safe and sound. Guy started stalking her apparently, threatened her once or twice too. Fun times we live in.

Helping her hook the clasp of her necklace, you assure Nayeon that only your best effort would go into creating a safe space for her younger companion. Not to brag, but you’re pretty good at making friends—trust me. We’ll be tight before you even know it—with strangers. It’ll be like walking the dog; easy peasy. You get the idea right? Kinda running out of sayings. Nayeon seems pretty pleased with your promises.

“If you guys have fun, do send some videos,” she tells you, opening her drawer to pull out a pair of jeans. “I’ll be missing out on a lot if you don’t. That girl has a body even I wanna ravage.”

“So cock is not enough, huh?” you tease. She flicks her eyes to the mirror.

“Who said it wasn’t enough?” She cocks her head and makes eye contact through the mirror. “I literally ride you till you’re sore. Yuna’s just… an add-on. Like a side dish if you will.”

You chortle. “And I’m the main course?”

“Nope,” she giggles, unfolding her jeans. “That would be me.”

“That doesn’t even make sense.”

“If you want an admission of my wrongs, you’ll have to fuck it out of me.”

And she meets your eyes in the mirror. You smile, knowing that she’ll probably let you get away with this one.

“It’s really a shame…” you sigh. “These leggings were, like, really nice.”

*

Couple minutes later you’re giving her a kiss on the cheek as she hurries for the taxi that arrived five minutes ago. In the midst of the commotion, Yuna emerges from her room dressed in one of your shirts – just in time to wave goodbye to her senior before Nayeon slips away. You're not too sure if she’s fully registered the fact that she’ll be stuck with you for a full week, but hopefully once the realisation sets in, you’d already have made her comfortable. 

You turn. The way you meet her gaze is kinda awkward. She has a look of intrigue on her face as she rubs her arms and gazes back at you with those doleful eyes.

You clear your throat. “You uh… You like omelettes?”

*

On your phone screen, Nayeon just kinda stares back at you with a hundred-yard-stare type of look. Hotel wifi has her video freezing at a rate that would make Elsa proud, and she’s barely a human through all the pixelated fuck-what that clouds in front of her.

“I feel like we're focusing on vastly different things here, Nayeon.” You’re hoping that she can hear your voice over the roaring silence of shitty network bandwidth. “Not even a day too… I’m pretty sure the poor girl’s scared shitless of me.”

And while Nayeon’s video and audio buffer, it’s a good time to remind yourself of your mistake. Not that you forgot it or anything, but you just gotta make sure that everything that you tell Nayeon is accurate.

So it turned out that Yuna and breakables don’t really go well together. Nayeon seems to have forgotten to ask you to read some fine-prints, and you basically went in raw when you witnessed  the young girl’s clumsiness. Quite the butter-fingers: she broke a mug and a plate in one slip of her tray from her hands. The sound of shattering porcelain jarred her, and as she attempted to move out of her mess, the Dad in you spurred you to cry out in panic. Don’t move! you practically roar. Poor thing flinched like she’s being held at gun-point, started shivering a little as you rushed over to clear up the shards. You don’t quite know how to comfort her, and so you just tell her to just eat in her room if she’s uncomfortable. She took you up on that, and that ended the first non-sexual interaction you had with her.

Way to go… You deserve a star.

By the time you’re done pacing the room and have thrown yourself onto the bed, Nayeon reconnects back to the call. She’s in a bathroom, wearing airpods and sitting in what looks like a bathtub. From the fact that she's wearing a robe, you’ll bet good money on the really (and you can’t stress this enough) high chance that she’s wearing nothing else beneath that.

“Five star hotel and I get two bars of wifi everywhere except the damn toilet,” she huffs. Guess you were right about what the two of you were focusing on. No prizes for being right though; life’s a bitch. “Anyway, don’t think too much about it. She’s clumsy but she’s not unaware. I’m sure she’ll understand where you’re coming from.”

“Honestly”—you slide under the covers and heave a huge sigh—“I think I might find my thirteenth reason if she hates me tomorrow.”

Nayeon rolls her eyes. Yes: she’s painfully aware that you certainly won’t kill yourself over the fact that you may or may not have made a girl re-live her trauma, but the knowledge of that doesn’t stop her from expressing her disdain towards your little joke.

“Sleep on it. You’ll be fine tomorrow,” she assures you, now in full resolution and crystal clear audio and image. She segways into something else, “By the way, check out the link I’m sending you.”

Toilet wifi is truly doing her wonders cause you get the link in question right after she says it. And you aren’t sporting a fedora when you confidently identify the source as a Reddit thread, but it feels like you should be heading online to buy one and get it delivered via next-day delivery. (Ugh… You can feel the word m’lady threatening to burst forth from your mouth already.) Yuck.

Clicking on the link brings you to a community you’re no stranger to. You’ve heard of it once or twice, but never really had the time or energy to delve into the posts. Nayeon seems to have done some homework though — you’re taken to a very specific post, a clip that kinda blew up when it debuted. 

It takes no Oppenheimer to draw the conclusion that the post addresses Nayeon herself, and she’s clad in that all black bodysuit from that one Talk That Talk performance that hugs her figure and really makes all the curves on her body pop. You’d know: you fucked her in this outfit; railed her on the bed from the back with a pair of fuzzy pink handcuffs on her wrists if you want specifics. And if you want even more details: she didn’t let you cum till she’d came 3 times. Fun.

It’s a stunning outfit, and the appeal of the wonders it does to Nayeon’s body is only emphasised by how she runs her hands up from her hips, tracing the hourglass shape of her figure before she flips her hair. A pretty good Gif. Seems to have all 1410 commenters on their knees.

Now mind you: you’re on speaker phone with her right now. With that in mind, it sure as hell feels like Nayeon’s in the room with you as low sighs and salacious squelching starts filtering through Nayeon’s microphone and into your ears. A quick glance at the call window (that’s so helpfully converted to a small rectangle at the top right-hand corner of your phone) confirms 2 things while surprising you with a third find:

1) She’s very much naked under that robe. A bit of a no-brainer

2) She’s playing with herself – legs wide open and one of them (you can’t be arsed to really say which one) propped up on the rim of the bathtub as juice-slicked fingers work themselves between flushed folds.

3) The whole reason you can see the stuff in 2) is attributed to the fact that she's somehow leaned her phone against something in that bathtub to give you an almost artistic view of her. Emphasis on ‘almost’ because the close-up of her pretty, pink pussy is foreground to an even more sordid display of her half-lidded eyes and parted lips — baseness personified really.

Yuna becomes a secondary thought. “So… Has anyone told you that you’re kind of freaky?”

“Hey. I’m just a girl,” she muses, the look on her face a strong contender for the symbol of pure depravity. “Read the comments would you?”

“Twitter’s a much better place for this if—”

“Just stop being a smartass and read the fucking horny comments.”

You’re not intimidated by the aggression behind her voice for once, and it’s probably because she isn’t here to edge you if you don’t shut up. You take a moment to admire just how good she looks in this seemingly sempiternal display of what looks like lust itself, the Gif looping at least 3 times while you’re at it (and it’s like, the best 14 seconds of your life). The sun hits her at just the right, illuminating the best parts of her while shadows further define the shape of her curves – bringing forth the swell of her hips while making her tits and ass look bigger by a rather generous amount. Frankly, she looks good in just about anything really. Clothes on or off; hair tied up or let down; lingerie or fancy dress; lace or solid, she is the embodiment of sex.

“Hurry the fuck up,” she hisses, and it’s dripping with lethal lust and desire like venom from serpent fangs. Okay… There’s some mutual interest here with you and Nayeon. You’ll oblige.

“How nasty are we getting?” you inquire, all while you work the waistband of your pants down past your crotch so that your cock can spring free. You enlarge the window of the call, silently hypnotising yourself with the sight of Im Nayeon’s hand busying itself between her legs. “Are we going from the tame ones and progressing or…”

The look on her face tells you that she doesn’t give a shit; and she’s about this close to ending this filthy call and getting off on her own. Better conscience guides you to pick a random comment from the middle and get going with it.

“This one’s a thought provoker,” you preempt, scanning through the rather raunchy statement left behind by some undoubtedly turned-on user. “It says, ‘I wonder what she tells her stylist when she has to wear such outfits. It's like she must be really asking: I want something that will reveal my whole curvy figure. Nayeon is really the best girl’.”

“Mnph…” — she tilts her head back and lets out a gasp – an implosive suction of air that’s sharp yet so pleasing to your ears. “Curvy and… What was that again?”

“Best girl,” you reiterate, watching with a half-parted mouth as your hand matches the pace of Nayeeon’s fingers pumping in and out of the wet mess on the screen, “looks like someone’s got an eye for details.”

“They’d better. I think I looked fucking hot in that thing.”

You could second that opinion, though it was probably in your best interest to keep reading. This is basically your equivalent of putting fries into bags. You’re kinda okay with it, but you’re struggling to read this next one because of its horrible grammar, “her pussy must feel like heaven. With a tight body like that, she must know how she’s draining balls around the world.”

In the bathtub, she twitches. Her ring and middle finger are drenched when they’re removed from her pussy, but they don’t rest and find solid ground on her clit. They rub circles into Nayeon’s swollen nub, no doubt applying just the right amount of pressure onto the area while Nayeon is breathing all shaky and sounds like she’s been winded. In your books: this is basically her doing a backflip over the fine line between freaky and kinky, and basically exposing you to some new kink that she’s probably picked up from Sana.  If any of these commenters ever really had a sliver of an idea of what she’s really like behind the scenes, you doubt that the comments would be as merciful as this. Anyway, next.

“I bet she likes it raw. She probably loves being a good little fucktoy who takes unprotected dicks into that tight pussy and letting load after load fill her. I mean” —Nayeon starts to shudder a little, quaking and sighing as you get to the more explicit section of his comment—“she’d probably like it if I just ripped that dress off her body and spread her legs. She’ll moan like a slut when I put it in her and just start doing her raw. Imagine the way her tits will bounce. Fucking slut, she was made to be bred.”

She lets out this moan – inexplicable and undescribable. She urges you to keep going. You do just that.

“I want her mouth so bad. Bunny has those dick sucking lips that are made for cock, probably gives mad head and is so fucking sloppy with it. I bet she’ll let the drool drip from the corners of her mouth while she takes me in all the way, and she’ll probably thank me with her eyes when I grab her by the hair and start fucking her throat. I’m gonna destroy that pretty little face so bad, leave her so fucking messy and ruined that she’ll have to stop singing for at least a week. When I cum, I’m gonna make sure it goes down her throat and get some on that slutty face. She’s earned it.”

You’re watching her, pumping your fist around your cock while she lets her jaw slack and lets her moans sort of tumble from her mouth in batches. “More,” she pleads, fingers trembling as she lets her free hand slip beneath her robe and start giving attention to her tits. You’d kinda kill to see them now, but this view will have to do. “Read more. I want to hear it.”

“They're getting nastier,” you inform her. “This whole thread of comments is just 3 guys discussing how they want to share you in a gangbang.”

“Fuck yes. Please…”

She never finishes the sentence, but you get the gist. You persist. 

The next one is kinda paraphrased, partially because you’re projecting your own fantasies while simultaneously deciphering what this guy is trying to say across 5 separate comments. 

“I want nothing more”—and it’s getting really hard to breathe while Nayeon’s fucking herself senseless halfway across the world. Maybe if she hadn’t worn those damned airpods, you wouldn’t be hearing every single sordid little sound she makes (gasps, sighs, moans and a bunch of phonetic mish-mash that began with the letter ‘o’). You can’t tell if she’s already lost to the haze of pleasure, and even if she hasn’t she’s probably holding on by a thread thinner than hair; on the way there and probably reaching within the next five minutes—“than to pound her little pussy raw and give her a fat load.”

“Oh my fucking god…” she’s descending a little further into her own head, sinking beneath the sheer thrill of masturbating while her partner reads out all the perverse things that people would do to her. Her breaths are almost desperate – earthy and kind of like a product of raw emotion; akin to a groan or maybe even a grunt. At the same time, it’s like she’s struggling to take in the air she needs, fighting to find a reason to take a breath and distract her from this debauched world that she’s dived into. It isn’t just her mind that’s twisted here, but the minds of others too.  “Keep going. I need to know how they’re gonna ruin me.”

You’re trying to memorise the next line so you can watch, watch the subtle twitch in her right leg and the grunt-moan hybrid that’s produced from that pleasure stricken throat; the way she becomes a bundle of nerves like you and just starts losing it; the way her fingers go from rubbing to fluttering small circles of heavenly release into her body; the way the round breast that’s slipped out of the robe ripples with each movement from her shoulder. You’re more than happy to watch really; be a witness to the act of her bringing herself to the point of no return as she practically brims with pleasure and bliss that she’s bringing herself. You’re reading is like an add-on, some sick twisted DLC if you really think about it (you’re not really thinking much, but it’s a fun thing to consider). It’s quite like making a drink, albeit a little bit butchered – she’s pouring herself a glass while you wipe the rim with a lemon. The alcohol can spill on your fingers for all you care, you just wanna watch her make it overflow. 

TL;DR: you really wanna make her cum.

“I’ll fuck her mouth while you take her pussy”—this one is read word-for-word, verbatim, letter-for-letter. You like how it’s phrased, not quite poetry but beautiful in its own way—“make her gag on this cock till she’s ruining her mascara. We cum together. Give this little slut the spit roast creampie of her life.”

She half-sigh-half-moans – the type of noise she’d make when she’s on her back and being fucked into the mattress. She shifts, undoes the knot holding her robe together and lets the thing part from the middle and falls at her sides. Leaning back against the end of the bathtub, her pleading comes in the form of whines, soft ones that kinda float around the room while she endeavours to work her fingers a little harder. A free hand kneads her breast. Your breath hitches, cock pulsing in your fist as she arches her back and starts to gasp. You read the next lines, the boner-fueled words of some guy who probably had his cock in his hand while typing this out.

“I want her ass. I’ll make her ride it while she takes it up that bubble butt, then you guys an still fuck her pussy and mouth. She’ll be so messy, probably dripping from her pussy and her mouth while three dicks fuck the shit out of all three of her holes. You know what? I bet she’ll enjoy it. The slut flaunts her body like it’s a fucking prize. She’s asking for it.” 

There are like 2 more comments, but you never quite make it to the next parts. With a cry, Nayeon leans forward in the bathtub. She digs her fingers back into her slit, restarts the squelching and lets your speakers flood with a sordid symphony; squelch after squelch after squelch feels like music to your ears.  “Your cock.” It’s a demand, really raunchy, kinda racy and really (and you really mean really) fucking raw. Can’t quite figure out which part of her strips her of the filter that takes away the pure intoxicating venom that coats her words, but you couldn’t really give more of a shit right now. It’s hot, like, really fucking hot. “Show me your cock. Let me see you stroke it.”

And it’s almost at once that you switch back to the call and flip your camera around. You’ve been going at the same tempo for some time now, and you hope Nayeon can see the utter mess she’s made of you – precum leaking from your tip and your head all swollen and red. She moans, slips another digit inside of her and starts working all three of her fingers harder inside of her. 

“Ngh… I really wish that I could be filled with your cock right now,” she drawls. You’re not too sure if she knows that she’s projecting a shared desire right now. It’d be great to feel those warm walls wrapped around your shaft, slicking it with her juices while she rides you at a steady pace. Fuck… She’s ruining you, isn’t she? “With me baby. Cum. Make a mess for me.”

Her words are a little jumbled, but coherence doesn't really matter when she’s spitting pure filth from her lips. It doesn’t take long for either of you to get there, but you like to think that you meet her where she already is and kinda just go from there. At least that’s what you tell yourself as she convulses and is marred by her orgasm, and your cum leaks down your shaft and flows over your knuckles while you watch Your respective cameras capture it all – witnesses the mess you make at the hands of each other (and yourselves). You have to take a second, sit in the warm puddle of your own mess. It’s pooled on your stomach; cleaning up’s gonna be a chore.

“God…” Nayeon breathes. “Always wanted to try this.”

“Guessed as much,” you reply, sitting up in your bed and looking around for tissues. You spot a box of them on your desk. Great.

“Gotta go. Be in touch soon.”

She leaves you in the darkness of your room. From the corner of your eye, you spot a set of eyes watching you from the ajar door. You make out Yuna’s features before she closes the door, no doubt fleeing the scene. You aren’t sure how much she saw, but you hope that whatever she did see hadn’t scared her shitless.

Anyway, there are larger issues at hand.

*

It’s somewhere on the third or fourth night where it happens. For the record: you don’t go to her. She comes to you.

Weather forecast predicted hail, and for once they’re actually correct. It’s pissing it down – the glass on your room not left unscathed from the assault of hail falling from the sky. It’s awfully noisy, helluva hullabaloo. Hard to sleep in this weather really. You warned Yuna—who seems to have gotten a little more comfortable around you—about the horrid weather that you guys were about to be blessed with, and you can’t help but wonder if she’s fairing alright.

The knock on your door comes around a quarter after one. Yuna steps into your room, her silky nightdress kinda glowing in the low light as she sort of just stands there awkwardly. It’s quite like a child entering their parents room in the middle of the night to inform them that they’ve shat the bed. You look at her from under the covers for a bit, and when she continues to be a deer in headlights, you sit up in your bed. “You okay?”

“I’m um…” she begins, fiddling with her fingers as she speaks. “I-It’s noisy… And…”

You understand what she’s attempting to convey. You move to your right in bed, open the covers and pat on the space you’ve left for her. She smiles, grateful. When she settles into the space where Nayeon usually sleeps, you tell her to holler if she needs anything else. You leave her with that, and your back faces her when you—by the grace of some divine powers—drift off.

You wake up again in the early morning. The sleep wasn’t bad – kinda peaceful and dreamless and you want to close your eyes and drift back off. Unfortunately (actually kinda fortunately in this case), Yuna’s legs entangled with yours snaps you awake. You’re worried that you might have rolled into her while you were asleep (you really didn’t want to fuck up again), but her arm around your torso tells you otherwise. She’s cuddled up to you, head against your back and hugging you like you’re her personal soft toy – the usual kind of cuddling. Frankly, you’re at a loss for words. What happens in between is kind of a blur. You remember her stirring, and you remember turning around as slowly and gently as possible. What you don’t quite remember however, is how she ends up with a hand on your cheek. You vaguely remember her asking for some sort of permission, but your heart is beating so loudly in your ears that you can’t really hear or process much. She’s in the most vulnerable of positions right now, and the worst thing you could possibly do is fuck up. Your mishaps from the first day have you on edge.

And now you’re running through the events again in your head, doing your best to pick up on critical exposition that probably would explain the situation you're in. Words fail you as Yuna’s thumb traces a path across your cheek, sweeping back and forth languidly with the smallest of smiles on her face. Her eyes—those hypnotic doleful eyes—stare into yours, and you’re sniffing out some longing behind that gaze. 

“Nayeon put in a really good word for you,” she whispers, letting her gaze wander across your face. “She said that you were a trustworthy man… Someone who’ll take care of anyone because you can.”

You’re happy to hear of Nayeon’s positive appraisal of you, but it doesn’t stop your bad habit of cracking a joke in tense situations. “And what’s the customer’s review?”

You’re glad that she laughs. If she didn’t, you’d have to expand your list to include a 14th reason. 

“She told me to trust you and that I can feel safe around you,” she reports. She takes a moment to bring her eyes back to yours. Her smile grows wider. “I’m happy to say that I do… Largely.”

And all at once: a two tonne weight around your chest feels like it just dropped a twenty-story height. You aren’t sure if Yuna’s giggling because of the fact that you’re visibly relieved or because you heaved the loudest sigh of relief of your career.

“Man… I thought I’d completely fucked up after the first day,” you admit to her, relishing the feeling of your body relaxing in bed. “Never quite got to apologise for that.”

“And you don’t have to”—her smile is quite soothing to be honest, puts you right at ease after looking at it for a second or two— “I was just kinda shocked… And I kinda have a bad experience of being yelled at. Working on it though.”

Huh. Guess Nayeon was right about her.

“Still though,” you raise, rubbing your eyebrow. “I’m sorry.”

Yuna chortles. Her lips slant at an angle. “Forgiven and forgotten. Happy?”

You smile in response to the progress. “Hey. You go girl.”

She graces you with a wink. A moment of silence follows. 

“Did Nayeon ask you to be touchy with me?” you can’t help but inquire. It’s out of the blue, but hey: a burning question is a burning question. “I mean… It’s not everyday that a cute girl just pulls up in my bed and caresses my cheek.”

“She said that you’ll be fine”—she retracts the hand on your cheek. The two tonne weight starts rising to the 5th floor—“and are you flirting with me?”

(Two tonne weight falls. Phew… What a workout.)

“Maybe.” You don’t really like being blunt cause there’s always some merit in a bit of playing around. Now that you think back on it, you may or may not have picked this up from Nayeon. Damn girl is ruining you. “Take it how you want, just don’t think I’m being sarcastic.”

Yuna smirks a little. “Nayeon did say you like to play around with your words,” she lifts a finger and points away from the bed, “not sure if she influenced you,” she points towards you,  “or if you influenced her”.

“What if we’re both a little guilty?”

“Then I’ll be the outlier. Can I kiss you?”

And it feels like time stops. For the seconds that you stare at her in silence, one brain cell exerts maximum fucking effort to process the weight of her words. You wouldn’t have been as hesitant if she’d just kissed you directly, but now that she’s asking for consent first, you’re high-key at a loss for words. The sun’s starting to rise and the room’s being filled with this sorta radiant glow… Or maybe it’s just her.

“Woah,” you can’t help but muse. Of course, you’re exaggerating by quite a bit. “You are… Super blunt.”

“Figured you could use a change of pace.”

Then Yuna closes the distance between the two of you. She hesitates for a little, hovering over your lips for a bit before she finally decides to press her lips onto yours. It’s kinda sweet; her lips feel amazing and she’s really going down on you. You comb your hands through her hair, let the smell of sweet shampoo kinda intoxicate you a little while she tugs at your lower lip with her teeth. Unlike Nayeon, it feels like she’s kissing you because she wants to. The older girl sometimes makes it feel like she’s doing it for the sake of it, and then proceeds to tear through your clothes to get to your dick. Yuna takes her time, lets her hand on your face get familiar with the structure of your jaw as fingers graze them gently; introduces her index finger and thumb to your chin as she tips it to deepen the kiss a little.

“Hey,” she calls once the kiss is broken. She’s glowing in the light of the room, the smile on her face pretty fucking adorable. “Did Nayeon ever tell you that I look the best when I take it from the back?”

Again: super fucking blunt.

Clothes are never a hassle when you’re kinda in a rush, and Yuna’s night dress slips right off her body like the plate she dropped from the tray. You have her on her back, kinda half-mewing-half-keening as you catch a nipple in your mouth and suck on on it. The toned muscles on her stomach tense and relax, the rapid ebb and flow of pleasure in her system making her body move in all sorts of sensual ways as you palm her other breast.

And here’s the thing you like about Yuna: she lets you take her time with her, really revels in the sweetness of the moment while your trailing kisses down to her crotch. She moans for you – sweet music that tells you yeah that’s the spot while you acquaint and familiarise yourself with her body; she shifts herself accordingly – rolls to her side when you were kissing her plunging collarbones and opens her legs for you when you get to that pretty, pink pussy. It’s like she’s wired to please you, responding to your every move with a move of her own like you’re locked in a dance with her. It’s a welcome change of pace from having to fight and dirty talk your way to even get the chance to fuck Nayeon.

(In case you’re wondering: you do eat her out, but you kinda get lazy to really put into words. All you need to know are these few key points:

Firstly, she’s delicious, sweet and salty and kinda tangy. A bit of a subjective taste but you like it.

Secondly, her moans are really fucking adorable. They’re not even, like, purposefully made that way. She just kinda lets them flow from her mouth – choked-up cries of pleasure while warm thighs wrap around your ears. 

Lastly, when she cums, it’s fucking amazing. It’s like she brings heaven down to earth with her cries and makes sure you get to touch it as much as she can. Her body is fucking riveting – arches deliciously when she arrives and makes you twitch in your pants.

Bottom line: she’s really fucking hot, quite like Nayeon in the way she tries you on sometimes but patient and actually giving you the chance to talk dirty with her. Damn… She really is a change of pace.)

And so: reaching between your bodies with her on all fours, you grasp your cock in your right hand, slipping it between Yuna’s legs. The young woman spreads her thighs as best she can – readies herself for entry. Your head pushes between her lips, waiting for only a moment, before you thrust hard inside her, filling her to the hilt with your cock. She’s awfully tight, really fucking wet and God is it hot in there. You almost think molten iron seems to be brewing in her core.

“Tell me,” she huffs, a sly smile on her face as she props herself up on her elbows. “Am I better? Or is Nayeon still the best?”

You caress the swell of her ass. “Baby… I think you’ll be the best fuck I’ll have in a while.”

It’s almost cruel: the way you kinda just start thrusting without any warning. She likes it though, and you only know because she possesses the bluntness to do so.

“God you’re fucking big.” And her ass ripples with each thrust you deliver into that slick little pussy of her’s. “Fuck… How does Nayeon even manage you?”

(The thing you like about her is how she asks a question like it was some sort of objective statement – not a rhetorical question, just something for you to respond to.)

You fuck her harder in response to that, kinda push yourself all the way into her. The tip of your cock slams against her cervix and her cries ring throughout your room. Your room fills with the sort of visceral sound one would associate with skin slapping against skin. There are definitely some more words to be shared during sex – the girl has a little more things she wants to get off her chest, but what the whole exchange boils down to is a back and forth of her gasping and crying out and saying you’re the best dick she'll ever get and you telling her you love the feel of her little cunt.

(It's really not like you're trying to prove something by being super rough. Yuna just happens to really, really like the feel of a thick cock pounding into her. Maybe Nayeon was right – her taking it from the back was a good idea.

Or maybe she's just a slut.

Who knows?)

"Yeah," you growl. You reach forward and grab a handful of her hair, pull her body against yours. "Take my cock baby."

"I can take it," she gasps, the breath knocked out of her. Her fingers curl against the bedsheets and she's just taking your cock. She's a lot easier to please than Nayeon – less stubborn about being in control, but also much, much more willing to please. "Oh God, fuck me, please..."

You slam deep inside her. Her body jerks forward and the sound that comes from her mouth is a mix between a cry and a gasp. "Please what?"

"Fuck me harder," she says. She's practically begging for it. "Make me cum. Please, please make me cum!"

Taking up her request is all you really wanna do. She didn’t need to add the multiple pleads, but you took some pleasure in hearing it.

You grab ahold of her shoulders, pull her close till she's almost upright. "You're gonna cum around my dick," you growl. You start a series of rapid, hard thrusts and her body goes limp in your arms. "And you're gonna make a mess of yourself."

She nods frantically. She's a mess already, all sweaty and red. The sounds that leave her mouth are incoherent. With two fingers pressing hard and directly against her clit, you start circling on it, making her a complete fucking wreck in the middle of your room as you really try to get her off. There's a sweet spot you find after a moment – the pad of your digits slipping around the nub and her knees give, almost making her buckle until she's flat on her stomach on the bed, crying and shaking as you use her like a toy.

"Please... Fuck... Don't stop, oh God don't stop!" Her cries are like a prayer to you. You've never heard anything like it. You fuck her right through it, watching as her back arches and her legs twitch, until she's almost completely gone. There's only a little bit more left. She just needs a little extra push.

So you decide to go a little hard. You hold her by her hips, keep her legs shut, and thrust directly down onto her pussy with a force you'd only reserve for someone like Nayeon. Her eyes roll back in her head as you really take her like you've wanted to ever since you started; it's almost animalistic how you really try to get her to cum as hard as she can. You can almost feel her orgasm build up in her body. Her breathing grows shorter and more erratic and she's mewling in her throat – so close. You can taste it.

"You like my cock don't you?" You reach around, give her tits a squeeze. She almost cums from that.

"Yes," she whimpers. You know she's not playing the part – she genuinely wants your dick. "Please... Let me cum on your cock..."

(You don’t admit it verbally, but you like it when girls beg. Nayeon never does, and it’s a novelty now that she’s doing it.)

You hold her down with an arm on her lower back. Her head's to the side, hair plastered to her skin with sweat as you fuck her from behind. She's panting and whining, begging you for more; “please please more”. You like that. It's cute. You wanna hear it. So you go harder. She screams into the sheets, but the sounds are muffled, but she's pretty loud nonetheless. It's good to see her let go like this, really let loose and not hold anything back. There's a fire that she ignites inside you. "Fuck..."

It's like a little fire that ignites and grows bigger, burns brighter with each thrust. She's so tight and so fucking wet; the wet sounds that accompany each thrust really turns you on. Your body feels so hot. There's this warmth that spreads across your entire body with every passing second. She moans and cries, whimpering as you nail her into the sheets.

Then there's this moment of clarity that hits her, and she looks back at you – she smiles, eyes half-lidded and she whispers something to you.

"Cum inside me," she says. She's shaking. "Please..."

Your rhythm grows sloppy as you edge closer and closer to the climax. Your cock feels like it's growing harder, bigger – there's this throb in it and your body's all tensed up. It feels like something inside you is going to snap, break loose and make you cum. It's not the best feeling in the world, but the way it grows stronger and stronger really makes your toes curl and your skin tingle.

And she's so beautiful like this: spread out for you, skin sweaty, cheeks red, and ass in the air as you fuck her. It's the best way you can ever imagine her – she looks like she belongs to you like this, her body a playground for your lust, and she wants it just as much as you do. There's a mutual feeling between the two of you.

The pleasure comes and it hits you like a train. It feels like something inside your balls tighten and then snap and then there's this euphoria that envelopes you. You feel your cock pulse with every burst of semen that spurts from the head. Yuna cries as her pussy gets filled and filled, until it's running out and dripping from her cunt, but you can't stop fucking her. You want to feel that sweet, sweet release, to see how long it will go, to really enjoy this moment. She feels amazing, and your heart pounds and you want her so badly. You need her.

She cums — It's a hard, shuddering orgasm that wracks her body. She cums and she screams for you, and she makes a mess of herself as promised. It's really fucking hot – the way she completely loses her composure and her legs shudder violently as you pound her pussy through it all, soaking in the perverted pleasure she brings you while you fuck her freshly-creamed pussy till your hips kinda give. You collapse on her, panting and grunting on top of her while she struggles to breathe.

In this moment. She isn’t like Nayeon in the slightest.

She’s a welcome change of pace. 

*

“Thinking back… There were signs in highschool that I probably ignored.”

And the water sloshes around as Yuna shifts a little in the bathtub. She’s found it to her liking to prop herself up against you, let her head rest against your shoulder while you hold her close to your chest. You’ll admit that it’s a bit of an awkward arrangement, but there was no way you could just not indulge her after she asks to take a bath with you. 

“The worst part is that they weren’t even, like, subtle,” she tells you, just sort of staring out into the distance while she talked.  “He’d punch things when he got angry, even slapped a referee after he lost a game… Love is blind huh?”

You held her a little closer to your chest. “It’s okay. We all make mistakes.”

“Yeah, well, my mistakes left me with no physical scars but the emotional ones are plenty.”

You hope she can’t see you grimace. It’s hard to recover from these types of things, especially if you realise the stupidity behind your decisions.

“I’m sorry that happened to you,” you tell her, and you really mean it. “It must be difficult… You know: recovering.”

The front of her lips curve up. “Thanks. I try not to let it weigh me down too much but… Just kinda happens to come out every now and then.”

You get it, you really do. Not that you’ve been in an abusive relationship like hers before, but you understand what it’s like. It’s sad really: being unable to break out of a cycle that hurts you the more you try to stay and change it. You admire the young girl’s strength, envy her courage for finally breaking the cycle and freeing herself for good. 

“You’re safe now,” you whisper, moving some wet hair out of her face. “I will never hurt you. I promise.”

She smiles at that. “Thank you,” she says while pinching your cheek, “that means a lot to me.”

Then you bask in the silence for a little, taking in the smell of the bath salts and the feel of Yuna’s soft skin against yours. It’s a pretty romantic moment till Yuna’s bluntness breaks it.

“I’m, like, really wet,” she announces, gazing up at you from her position on your shoulder. You laugh. 

“Didn’t you just cum?”

“Good things come in threes.”

She fixes you with a look, like she knows that you’re gonna give in.

(And you know what? She’s absolutely right. Can’t say no to a pretty girl.)

*

“Well hello to you too.”

Nayeon sounds almost angry on the other side of the video call. On your end, you have your phone’s back camera pointed to the current situation: Yuna atop of you, thighs locked around your cock as her hips rock up and down steadily. Her thighs are warm, pillowy; makes you grit your teeth while she moves languidly.

“Nayeon!” Yuna exclaims, almost too saccharine as she keeps her eyes locked on yours. “We were just thinking of you.”

She isn’t lying. Just moments before her call came, you two were making a joke about how she’d never let you get away with as much as Yuna did. It was a pretty humorous conversation, almost comedic if it wasn’t for the fact that Yuna was tugging your sweats down your thighs. 

But, there she was, still moving in your lap. Yuna leans forward, hands planted on your chest as she continues to rock her hips, ass bouncing a little against your thighs.

You can hear a scoff from Nayeon.

Yuna turns her head to the screen, eyes looking at the phone but her hands still pushing on your chest, fingers flexing. "We really were," she whines, lips jutted into a pout. You watch her as her lips curl into a small smirk just a second later, her teeth peeking out, and you can feel your face grow warm when she looks back at you.

"Tell her what we were talking about," she orders, her voice soft but firm.

"Um...we were just, um—" you stutter out, and your throat goes dry as her hips keep going, her thigh muscles clenching around you.

"Go on."

"We were...just, uh, talking about how you're not here," you finally manage to get out.

"Aww, baby...” Nayeon is smiling. It’s sarcasm by the way; she's enjoying this as much as Yuna is.

Yuna's pout returns. "See, Nayeon?" She continues to roll her hips against you. "We were thinking of you,” she reiterates, making sure she has your eye contact while she fucks you with her heavenly thighs, “I know it's not fair that you aren't here, but he’s just so fucking hard… Someone had to do something about it.”

Nayeon gives a snort. “You two are lucky I’m not alone in my room right now.”

“And what would happen if you were?” Yuna challenges. You don’t recall her being this daring.

“Playing with myself, obviously,” the older girl replies. “You think I’d just watch you get him off with your thighs? I barely let that boy dominate me.”

Yuna chuckles and smiles your way.

“What a horrible situation,” she whispers, moving a little faster. “Luckily I’m here to pamper him.”

“And he’d better enjoy it while it lasts,” Nayeon smirks. “When I’m home he’s–”

Yuna cuts her off by hanging up. You stare wide-eyed in shock as she tosses the phone aside. “Too noisy. I can’t multitask,” she explains. “Call her back later. Let’s get back to it.”

With that, Yuna leans over you, her chest pressed to yours as she gives a slow grind in your lap, her hips moving in a figure eight. Your head rolls back, and you release a loud, drawn-out groan. Her thighs are so smooth against your cock, so warm, so soft. You wish you could bury your face in between them. The way her hips move is incredible; she knows what she wants, knows how to work you.

You try to sit up, but Yuna pushes you back down by your chest. Her lips curve into a smile, and she shakes her head.

"Stay down," she whispers, "you don't wanna ruin this, do you?"

"No."

"Then stay still. I'll make it quick."

Quick is an understatement. She's barely rocking her hips in your lap, but with how soft her thighs are, and the way they grip you like a vice, you know it'll probably be over sooner or later. You make a note to try and make this last for as long as you can. Yuna leans over you again, hands on your chest as she gives a rough buck of her hips. Your head snaps back and you let out a loud groan. She continues to grind against you, slowly, making sure to hit every sensitive part of your cock. You reach up to grab her hips, but she slaps your hands away.

"No touching," she tuts. "Let me do the work. You relax."

Your lips open to protest. She shushes you with a finger. 

"Own me later," she whispers, sliding the finger down to the point where your collar bones meet. "Let me take care of you now."

You gulp, nodding.

Yuna's hands settle back on your chest, nails dragging across your skin, making you shiver. She's looking at you with those doe eyes, those pretty pink lips curled into a smirk as her hips pick up pace. The friction is incredible; Yuna's thighs feel like silk wrapped around your cock, warm and soft; the way they're clamped around you has you seeing stars. Your breath hitches in your throat when Yuna moves faster.

(And another thing about her: she’s so fucking good at pleasuring you that she always makes you lose your ability to think.)

"Fuck..." You moan, throwing your head back. "Feels so good..."

She smiles at that, giving a small hum of approval. "Does it?" She asks. "Good."

You look up at her, watching her roll her hips. She's really putting in work, moving in all sorts of ways to make sure you're feeling the most pleasure. It's not lost on you; she's an angel, and you thank every god there is for having her. Your cock throbs between her thighs, aching. The head is flushed red and leaking precum, which smears all over Yuna's thighs as she keeps moving. Your toes curl in the sheets, fingers gripping the fabric as she rides you.

Yuna continues to roll her hips, giving a few rough bucks when she feels like it. You're groaning and moaning under her, letting out all kinds of sounds that make her chuckle. She's having fun teasing you, getting you close to orgasm only to slow down and watch your face contort with pleasure.

"Don't cum yet," she says softly, running her hands over your chest. "We just started."

"I-I know," you reply, breathless. "But I...fuck..."

Yuna giggles. "That good?"

"Yeah. Fuck… don't stop."

"Wouldn't dream of it, baby."

You throw your head back, your hips twitching under hers. Yuna chuckles, keeping her thighs locked around you. Your cock aches, throbbing between them as she moves; precum drips onto her legs, which only makes the slide easier for her. You're starting to sweat; your body's temperature rises with each passing moment, the feeling of her thighs overwhelming you. Yuna's so warm against you, so soft and pliable; you can't help but imagine her underneath you, moaning and writhing as you fuck her. The thought has you bucking your hips up into her, causing her to gasp.

"Someone's eager," Yuna teases, running a hand through her hair. "What's going through your head?"

You groan in response, your hands sliding down her sides to grip her hips. "Nothing," you lie.

She snorts, knowing full well what's on your mind.

"Liar." She rocks her hips forward. "What are you thinking about?"

You gaze at her for a moment. "If I said you... Would you believe me?"

She rolls her eyes. "Wouldn't put it past you," she stops moving for a bit to give you the attention. "What are you doing to me in your head?"

"I never said–"

"Please," she interjects "We both know you want to bend me over the nearest fucking surface and fuck my brains out right now."

Her thighs start moving again. Your head falls back and a moan escapes you.

"Can you blame me?" You say. She smiles.

"No, not really. I am pretty hot anyway."

(There’s that little bit of Nayeon in her.)

You nod. "You're so fucking good to me." You manage to get out.

Yuna chuckles. "Wanna know something?"

"What?"

"I love the way you feel between my thighs," she tells you. "And I love how you sound when I'm making you feel good. I want to hear more of it."

With that, she leans forward, pressing her lips to yours. Her hips keep moving, rolling against you at an agonizing pace, causing you to moan against her mouth. She's quite literally giving you everything you want, injecting some mischief here and there that makes it feel like Nayeon possesses her sporadically. She's more gentle though, more kind and more caring too. Okay, not that Nayeon doesn't care, but she's kinda ruthless when she's horny. Yuna's much more caring, and a lot more willing to be a pillow princess. She likes being pampered. She likes being loved on and adored. She wants to be fucked and she wants to be taken care of. It's a mutual feeling between the two of you. You'll worship her, and she'll love you for it.

Yuna pulls away from the kiss, moving to your neck. She gives it a few open-mouthed kisses, nipping at your skin. You sigh, letting your head fall back. She continues to rock her hips against yours, grinding down onto your cock. Her hands slide up your chest, nails digging into your skin, eliciting a gasp from you. 

Yuna chuckles, kissing up your neck to your ear. "You're so big," she whispers. "So fucking thick... Feels so good."

You groan, fingers gripping her hips.

"You like that?" She asks. "Like me talking about your cock?"

You nod.

"I love it," and she talks with a purr. "Love how it feels inside me... How deep it goes... How hard it throbs..." She whispers—no. Moans all this right into your ear. "Fuck... I really want this thing inside me right now."

"Later," you quickly propose. "Please?"

She laughs — sweet and melodic. "Never said that I would put it inside of me," she reminds you. "Now, you zip up and make a mess for me, okay?"

You moan in response, nodding your head. You can't deny her, not when she's making you feel this good.

Yuna keeps moving against you, her thighs clenching around your cock. She moves slowly, her hips rolling at an agonizing pace. Your cock is aching; you can feel yourself getting closer to your climax with each passing second.  Your eyes are glued to her thighs, watching them move. She looks so good on top of you. Her hips are hypnotic; your mind spins as she fucks you.

Your eyes move up to her face. Her eyes are closed, lips parted slightly as she focuses on her movements. Her hands are still on your chest, fingers flexing. Her breathing is heavy, warm breath fanning over your skin. You take in her beauty, letting it consume you. She's so fucking perfect, so angelic. Hard to believe how much of a slut she can be.

"I'm close," you manage to get out. "Yuna..."

She smiles. "Go ahead, baby."

"Don't wanna make a mess." You say.

Yuna giggles, her hips picking up pace. "Too late for that."

That's what sends you over the edge. 

You cum; it’s fucking messy. 

Cum fills the space between your dick and her thighs, slathering and flowing and spurting onto everything it can possibly get on. It slicks the insides of her legs; gets on her ass a little and pools beneath her crotch. Yuna hums in satisfaction, a smile on her face as she turns behind her to survey the damage.

“Clean up on aisle four,” she mutters, reaching back to wipe some cum off her ass. She sends her fingers into her mouth – makes a big show of sucking them clean. You can’t help but chuckle a little at the sight.

“Hey,” you call her, your hands reaching down to grope her ass. “I’m planning to change the sheets tomorrow.”

She gives you a look. “Are you saying that cause you’re actually going to? Or because you just want to fuck me right now.”

Oh and she’s perceiving you almost too accurately. You won’t admit your answer, even to yourself. 

“I dunno,” you shrug. “Either way: we’ll have to change the sheets.”

Yuna matches your game.

“Call Nayeon back,” she instructs. “Let’s show her what she’s missing.”

*

Again: Nayeon just kinda chooses when and where to be a bit of a minx, and you just have to roll with it really.

The decision—for today—was made somewhere halfway through the drive to fetch Yuna. You were just talking about how Nayeon had picked that girl up, and her voice trails off as she passes the exit sign. She just keeps on driving while pretending to look like she’s in the right. The GPS doesn’t lie though: it keeps on promoting her to U-turn at every opportunity that’s available to her. She ignores it of course, kinda tunes it out even though the instructions are really getting annoying now (and not to mention it sounds like it’s demanding her to go back this instant, like a mum who just can’t get her kid to listen). It’s like how she ignores you lately.

“She’s probably gonna think we crashed or something,” you muse, lurching in your seat a little as she takes a left. “We’re like, what, fifteen minutes late or something?”

“Nah,” Nayeon quickly refutes. She stops to let a BMW swerve around the corner before she gently taps on the gas. “She’s probably still packing her things,” the turning signal clicks at a steady tempo, stops after she takes the 3rd exit on the roundabout, “maybe even settling a bit of her make up or whatever.”

This is the most she’s spoken since her return.

You hazard a glance at the GPS. The blue line leading you back to your intended destination only grows longer, sometimes glitching a little as the turn of Nayeon’s car gives it the illusion that you’re heading back when she’s really just turning into a one way street. You can’t tell if she knows where she’s going or if she’s just throwing out random bullshit.

“Don’t look at me like that,” she grumbles, casting a rather nasty glance your way. “I’m just taking a shortcut. That’s all.”

(Is it not painfully obvious where this is going?)

And a few minutes later, she’s got you gritting your teeth in the backseat of her car. No smug remarks from her — she has your balls in her mouth and she’s getting real sloppy in some alley she’s parked in. You don’t know where to begin, where to find solid reasoning for what you’re witnessing and feeling right now. It’s pretty fucking asinine (and she probably knows that it is) and damn straight goes against all branches of logic. In no world does she have a valid reason for being this horny at 11am on a Saturday.

(Actually, there’s one reason: she just feels like it.)

“You do know that we’re both astronomically fucked if anyone so much as glances our way.” You’re ashamed to admit that this actually has you hissing, partly out of annoyance and partly out of pleasure. “You’re fucking ridiculous. I hope you know that.”

Nayeon spits on your cock. Her hands close into a fist around your shaft, her eyes almost empty as she spreads her saliva in a close to even layer over you. “Are you quite done?” She asks. The emptiness in her voice is kinda scary. It makes her sound exasperated, like she’s sick of your reasonings. “You know, you talk an awful lot for someone who literally writhes when I quite fucking literally touch your cock. Don’t act tough on me. We both know who you are. We both know you’re my toy.”

Figuring out if this is part of the bit is the hardest part of your predicament. She plays too much as of late: with her eyes, her tone, her facial expressions… Sometimes it makes you wonder if she really keeps you around just to satisfy her cock cravings or if she really wants you around. Ever since she’s gotten back, it feels like she’s been fucking you and Yuna with nothing but pure hate. You feel it in her eyes, in the violent buck of her hips when she rides you or even in the way she spanks Yuna with a little too much glee. It confounds you; admittedly: you’re petrified of the possibility that she’s straight up jealous of how your relationship with Yuna’s been going since she roped her into this mess.

You can’t help it. You need to know.

You grab her by the wrist, a little harder than you’d like but it’ll have to do. “Stop,” and you don’t mean to be assertive, but it’s all you can summon now. “I need you to answer me honestly.”

In the passenger-side seat, Nayeon fixes her gaze on yours. She tries to struggle from your grasp; you keep a firm grip.

“What are we?” you ask, straightforward; direct. You’ve been with Yuna enough times to know that this’ll elicit an honest response from her. “Cause it just feels like I’m just your piece of meat to fuck and own. We don’t talk, you don’t even look at me when we go to sleep… What are we Nayeon?”

And it makes her freeze. Your sincerity is scary to her — ropes her into your thoughts more than you usually do. She’s silent, face blanker than paper. Her fingers on the hand that you’ve got in your grasp curl a little. “We’re just fuck buddies… That’s all.”

You just stare at her for a second, soak in the weight of that statement. “Then why does it feel like you’re jealous of Yuna?”

“I’m not. What are you even…” You can tell she’s surprised — her eyes do that thing where they widen, and then she blinks. Your question is loaded to her: it catches her in a place where she’s made privy to the fact that her emotions are more out there and perceptible than she’d like.

You raise an eyebrow. “Come on… We both know that’s not true.”

Her plump lips purse. She looks away for a moment.

“And what would you do if I said I was jealous?” she raises. “Kick her out? Stop fucking her?”

She raises a valid argument. Frankly, you didn’t bring this up with the end goal of sorting this out. You just wanted the older girl to accept her emotions, maybe acknowledge that it’s a little petty and then kinda just move on. Of course, nothing with Nayeon is ever really that simple.

“You’re the one that brought her into this,” you remind her, partly because you feel like she isn’t acknowledging her fault in this situation and partly because you have nothing else to say.

She rips her hand away. “So it’s my fault then?”

“What?” you sit up a little in your seat. “No. That’s not what I’m saying.”

“Then what are you saying?”

Her eyes sear your soul with her frustration. This hurts her more than you think. “I’m saying we’re both a little guilty here,” you clarify. “We both have a part to play in how you feel, so maybe we should just talk this out.”

She goes quiet. Too quiet considering the circumstance.

“Later.” She decides. “I think better with a load inside of me.”

*

So to reiterate: they're similar but kinda different. 

“Jesus… Did you really have to get it on my dress?” Nayeon’s clearly pissed. The wet wipe in her hand rubs at the stain of her dress furiously, as if the aggressive motion will kinda just get it out magically. Yuna retires into your arms, her sweat-matted hair sticking to your chest a little. The syntax behind how you got to this point is more complicated that you’d care to elaborate on, but let’s just say: Nayeon was happier a second ago…

(Okay but to be fair: her dress was in the way when you pulled out. So it’s like, half your fault, but you like to play the victim.)

“Relax,” Yuna assures her senior. “It’ll wash right off.”

Nayeon clicks her tongue in annoyance. “You stop defending him. He knows what he’s done.”

Yuna giggles. She smiles up at you. “Yeah… He does.”

They don’t know it, but they’ve got a pretty good dynamic going: Mother-daughter; Spicy and Sweet; Sour Cream and Onion. They contrast, diverge; but they compliment each other almost perfectly. 

(It’s no family reunion; but it’s dinner and diatribes from here on out.)

—

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year. Hope you will be full of joy and fulfill your dreams next year!

Anyway! This is lokwey the start of a series where I just kinda explore more filthy and complicated things, stuff that’s just not quite right but somehow works. I won’t be following the same idols and people, so this isn’t exactly an interlinked series. Hard to explain but you guys can just come to your own conclusions really.

~Nichu

[julieloves074]

It's you (Min Ho x reader)

Summary: Min Ho and Y/n are reunited in the second semester at K.I.S.S with their sarcastic, bullying friendship, but the drama get a little out of hand at the Moon's cabin, will the sparks that fly settle or burn Y/n up?

Warnings: Kissing, poor relationship with parents, underage drinking

Words: 4.1K

(Not my GIF :))

Being back at K.I.S.S for our second semester was thrilling, even just stepping out the car brings back a rush of memories and hope for this term. Kitty says she’s going 2.0 this semester and focusing but I think we both know she’ll lying to herself, Q and I made a bet on how long she lasts.

“I’ll give her a week,” I told him wanting to give the girl at least some belief.

Q pulled a face that screamed you’re joking right? And said ‘I give her till the end of tomorrow’.

Yuri was kind enough to invite out whole group to a reunion dinner tonight at our favorite barbeque restaurant, all on her, whilst the rest of us was excited Kitty was still stressing in our joint room about getting out of our living situation. Thankfully some music was able to calm her down for a second.

That was until Min Ho’s favourite song came on, and she turned to me with her mouth and eyes wide open in some sort of realisation. “Are you and Min Ho actually going to your lives together this semester?”.

I threw one of pillow at her, “Hey!” she exclaimed turning to me with smudged mascara on her cheek.

“Not this again,” I say rolling my eyes.

“I’m just saying I’m rarely wrong,” her voice goes a few octaves higher.

I turn back to my mirror, “You know I can’t stand how highly he thinks of himself, plus even I did he’s a player Kitty, I don’t put myself in situations where I’m likely to get hurt,” I explain.

“Yeah whatever live a little!” she threw the pillow back at me, which quickly turned into a pillow fight and bunch of laughter, until a knock on the door informed us we had to leave if we didn’t want to be late.

 The four of us girls walked towards the busy town to the restaurant, and he’s the first person that I spot in the crowd amongst our friends. Yuri shouts out a hello and the group turns around. His eyes meet mine, the same sneaky glimmer sits in his eyes, mouth in its signature half smirk.

I can feel Kitty’s eyes on me, and she gives me a slight push, I move my feet quickly hoping that no one saw that. I turn around and give her a quick death glare.

“Hello, y/l/n” his voice is all too familiar, I turn to meet his eyes once again, his hands are in his jacket pocket, and I note down that I would not mind stealing it from him.

“Min Ho,” I say back keeping it cool.

“Christmas break does not feel like a long enough break from you,” he says with a smile.

“Aren’t you a sweetheart,” I say back in a monotone voice.

“Now you’re complementing me? What have you done to y/l/n?” he questions grabbing my jacket sleeving and waving it around in an inspection, I roll my eyes at him and he lets my arm fall, “I heard about the living situation,” he changes the subjective with a gesturing nod to the restaurant as all our friends were walking in.

I let out a sigh and push some of my hair out my face, “Yeah, it’s a weird one, Kitty is super freaked out,” I say.

“I don’t blame her, living with someone you like and their partner sounds like personal hell,” he says with a distaste in his voice.

“Very helpful observation from you Min Ho,” I say deadpanning.

He puts a hand to his chest, “You’re so welcome,”.

“Aw and to think I almost missed this sarcasm of yours,” I say back turning my gaze away from his to the busy street.

Min Ho’s eyes crinkle in the corners “You did miss me,” he said as I stepped towards the restaurant, but I stopped before I could take another.

He circled around to step in front of me again, my brows burrowed, and I let out a nervous chuckle, “what did you say?” I asked trying to play dumb. Of course I missed him, I’m not sure how exactly our friendship could be described but our little digs were something I looked forward to, I enjoyed the challenge, the satisfaction that came from leaving him without a comeback.

I waited as he lowered towards my ear, his long eyelashes lifting as he observed something behind me, “You smiled when I said that”, I could feel the absence of his breath as he pulled away.  He was walking through to the table as I let out a composing breath and followed.

Kitty saved me a seat beside her, she wiggled her brows at me when I sit down, Min Ho was talking to Q and Dae looking at the menu.

“So?” she asked eagerly turning directly towards me.

“What?” I ask laying my purse down and grabbing a menu.

The brunette pulled it right out of my hands, “You know exactly what you’re going to order,” she says which is true, I get the same thing every time, why change something that works? “The tensions still there?” her mouth is a grin.

“It’s not tension,” I tell her for the hundredth since we started at K.I.S.S “we just don’t like each other,” I say pulling the menu back out her hand. I loved that Kitty was basically a radio tower for spotting who likes who, but not when it came to me, I didn’t like Min Ho like that and he definitely doesn’t like me like that, he was all over Maddison last semester.

“Whatever you want to tell yourself, “She murmured standing up to talk to the guys, Min Ho looks over to me momentarily as Kitty approaches them but then gets back into the conversation.

<3 <3 <3

Being able to spend the weekend at Min Ho’s cabin was amazing but waking up this morning to being basically snowed in was not a pleasant surprise, skiing was a no go, and it’s not like there was anything else near us. Everyone spent the morning playing card games or reading or trying to find something to entertain themselves because the internet was out.

It was fine until it hit five in the afternoon and even the team competition games were not feeling as empowering. Most everyone was feeling restless, that was until Q came up with what everyone seemed to think was a good idea, apart from Min Ho and me but I couldn’t pick his side.

“Oh come on we’re stuck on the property anyway!” Q pleaded in a whiny tone holding his hands together in support Dae gave a put his hands on his face and gave a cute smile. Min Ho half rolled his eyes and looked at all the faces in the room.

Dropping his hands with a sigh he agreed, and the room erupted into cheers, “But if you guys break anything I swear-” he started but was cut off as the chatter started. Maddison suggested we should divide up tasks, set up a small buffet, get alcohol and get dressed up.

Everyone separated the tasks between them, but my eyes kept shifting towards Min Ho, he looked distant, he was never usually against a party. He said he’d sort the alcohol and walked out the room, I looked around at everyone dispersing again then followed him.

We were heading towards his dad’s office, where Q had secretly snuck Jin in last night, thankfully the guys made up with him earlier or this day could have been very awkward, though it did seem like he gave them a rather tough time when they were younger and what he did to Q was not forgiven.

“Are you okay?” I ask after closing the door behind us, he didn’t turn, if he knew I was following him it didn’t show.

“Yep, I’m thinking the alcohol can be his payment for ditching me once again,” he says nonchalantly taking a key out of a draw and unlocking a tall cabinet, there on the bottom shelf laid what must have been about 30 different bottles.

I step closer and lean against the wall watching him pick up the bottles, read the label, leave some out and those that didn’t appease him went back in.

“Min Ho,” I said, my voice more tender than I intended, the playfulness was gone, “Can you look at me for a second?” I asked, for a moment he stopped moving altogether, before letting his shoulder fall and rising up to stand in front of me.

His expression was of that as always, but his eyes redder like a tear could appear any moment, “I can’t exactly say I’m surprised,” he shrugged and watched me waiting. A sadness settled over the room. I took a step towards him and just opened my arms, momentarily he was stood still, then he leaned down and wrapped his hands around my middle as mine went to the back of his neck.

“I’m sorry Min Ho,” I said, he didn’t let go, “You deserve better than this,” I said and pulled him closer, running my hand over his nape. As we stood there it felt as though a piece of my own heart was breaking, I could feel my throat getting drier, I shut my eyes tight.

I’m not sure if we were stood there for a minute or five but when he pulled away slightly, we looked at each other and for the first time I felt as though I saw him, really saw all of him.

“Whilst you’re here any preference?” he breaks out of the bubble and goes back to the stash as if nothing happened; I pull myself back together and kneel down next to him to look at options we have.

When we brought everything up Q looked directly at me, Min Ho placed the bottles on the table and rushed towards his room. I placed the ones I carried, and Q came right over, taking off the little apron he found leaving Julianna and Dae in the kitchen.

“How is he?” Q asks, and I lift my gaze from the table, the concern in his eyes mirrored that in mine.

I let out a sigh and shrugged my shoulders before replying in a hushed tone so they couldn’t hear in the kitchen, “He’s Min Ho, you know how he is, won’t say a thing,” I conveyed. Q nods knowing this would have likely been the case.

“He’ll come around when he needs to talk, for now it’s important we’re just here for him,” he said I agreed. When Dae announced they were done in the kitchen the four of us headed to get ready. Yuri laid her arm around my shoulder in a side hug as we walked to the room.

Yuri and I were the last to get ready the others were mostly done, the girls were playing music in the room, putting finishing touches to their makeup. None of us brought anything extremely fancy, but just enough.

The atmosphere in the house was much uplifted as everyone started having drinks and nibbling on the snacks. When Min Ho walked in and I couldn’t look away, he wore black trousers and a white sweater, his mood was too seemingly improved, he sent a smile my way.

Everyone was talking and dancing on the makeshift dancefloor, the table was pulled to the side, the drinks we’re going down as quickly for me as some others. Q and Jin were the sober ones as they both said that athletes don’t drink so at least I wasn’t the only one, though I was getting to the warm side of tipsy.

Coming back from the bathroom I spotted Dae and Eunice making out in the doorframe of one of the rooms and couldn’t help but smile, I was glad he was able to find someone who made him happy after how things ended with Kitty, especially since he wasn’t really over her at the start of this semester.

“Let’s do truth or dare!” Maddison announced after another shot as I made back into the room, a mixture of responses was heard but the red head quickly shot them all down, “Don’t all be babies, this is prime time to get to know everyone’s secrets,” she exclaimed falling back onto one of the sofas.

Everyone gathered around taking seats with their drinks.

“Okay I’ll start,” she said excitedly looking around at everyone as if they were her prey, “Okay, Julliana truth or dare?”

“Truth,”

“What is your favourite thing about Yuri?”

Julianna smiled at the question, resting her glass against her lips as she thought, “There’s just so many,” she laughed, Yuri looking at her expectantly, “The fact that she’s so unapologetically herself,” she said, and Yuri pulled her close and pressed their lips together. My eyes shot directly to Kitty who was looking everyone but at the couple.

“Okay, okay my turn,” Yuri said turning back to the crowd, “Q, truth or dare?”

“I’ll do a truth,”

“Who’s the best kisser you’ve ever kissed?” Q blushes and looks at Jin, his eyes shyly meeting his.

“Jin,” a series of aws and ews came out from everyone.

“Okay so, my queen of Choas,” Q started but Kitty threw him an exaggerated look of shock, “In retirement of course,” he finished lifting his hands in defence, if only he knew what Kitty had done before we left for this trip, “truth or dare,”.

“Truth,” she replied.

“Do you miss living with us,” he asked, and Maddison let out a boo, not juicy enough for her, but Kitty gave him a thankful look.

“Eh I basically spend the same amount of time at your dorm, apart from the sleeping fact,” she laughed, and Q gave her a side hug.

“Okay for that boring question lets do a never have I have, so drink if you have” the red head announced and looked towards Eunice.

The other girl furrowed her brows and made eye contact with Dae, “Never have I ever had a not so innocent dream about someone in the room,” she said. I lifted my glass to my lips whilst watching who else did, pretty much everyone, including Min Ho, everyone broke into trying to guess who dreamt about who.

Jin perked up “Min Ho yours has to be that girl you kissed in that music video for your dad this summer, surely,” but Min Ho only brushed him off.

Kitty quickly ceased control of the room “Okay, y/n truth or dare?”

“Truth,” I say not wanting to pick either really.

Madisson huffed, “Come on you guys let’s stop being boring!”, everyone else seemed to agree with her, convenient that she didn’t complain about that earlier.

“Dare,” I say giving in, and look back at Kitty with that mischievous glint in her eyes and am fully regretting my decision to give into peer pressure.

She smiled and proclaimed, “I dare you to kiss the person you find most attractive in the room,”.

Everyone’s eyes shot to me and an excited murmur started, I’m unable to take my eyes off my best friend, I knew she probably wanted to do good, but this was actually my worst nightmare.

“Kitty come on,” I try but no one jumps up to my defence. I look to Yuri and Q for some help but they both look like they want to see this play out.

Then Madisson’s new roommate Stella got out of her seat, she was always so quiet so all eyes shoot to her, “If you won’t do it I will,” she said with a new surge of confidence. Everyone looked confused, she made her way across the room to the wall on which Min Ho was leaning against.

His eyes scanned her face and a sick feeling started rising in my stomach, we are just good friends, maybe it was the alcohol not mixing well in my stomach. It’s not until her lips are about to touch his that I get up and rush out the room, saying I needed some fresh air.

Kitty tried to come after me, telling me its going to be fine that Stella had no chance against me and what not, but I just turned around and something in me exploded “How about you focus on your own love life Kitty, you need to tell Julianna the about what happened,” I whisper shouted.

Kitty’s face crumbled and she looked so hurt.

“Tell me what?” Julianna’s voice questioned as she appeared in the hallway.

Kitty and I turned to see her looking our way and Yuri standing beside her, Julianna looked between the two and a realization seemed to have struck her. Kitty tried to say something, to explain and I just walked away feeling even worse.

All of us had out swimsuits under our clothes cause we we’re going to end the night in the hot tub, so I headed out there now. Sitting warm water trying to keep my tears in check I could avoid the feeling of dread that I left in the house, still a few slipping gently down my face.

“Y/n,” a voice approached but I didn’t turn to him, I couldn’t, I just embarrassed myself and left Kitty to fend for herself, “come on,” he said sitting down on the side of the tub.

“I’m a terrible person,” I say simply, my whole body slumping into the hot water of the hot tub, being submerged made me feel numb.

“Can you come out so we can talk?”

“Nope, I’m going to sit in here until the water sucks me up whole and I disappear,” I admit and join my hands nervously under the water.

He sighted slightly and I could see him shuffling in the corner of my eye.

“If you won’t come out I’ll come in,”

“You really don’t have to,” I argue but he doesn’t listen, he steps in and settles in the water next to me.

“You’re not a terrible person,” he says and I turn to look at him momentarily.

“I got Kitty into shit with Julianna, I’m arguing with my parents over the most stupid thing, and I just keep ruining things for myself because I keep getting so anxious- I am like the worst,” I express looking out into the distance of the dark sky.

I feel him shuffle left to me, “come here,” he whispers and he pulls me into a hug, he’s warmer than the water, “The thing about Kitty was bound to come out at some point, and to be honest the longer it took the worse the outcome would have been,” he said brushing a hand down my hair.

I pull away slightly, “They broke up haven’t they?” I asked, his eyes softened, and he nodded, “and Kitty isn’t speaking to anyone?” I ask.

“Q went to sit with her, she won’t be angry at you forever, you guys will talk it out,” he reassured me.

I let out a half-defeated chuckle, “Who would have thought you could be somewhat wise,” I teased wiping a tear from under my eye.

“I am wise you’re just blind to genius,” he pulls one of his resting bitch faces and looks towards me with one brow raised and I actually let out a laugh.

“There she is,” he says and I can feel a smile spread across my lips, “So,” he says leaning on his arm to look at me, “who were you going to kiss?” he asked, his voice a whisper even though we were both alone out here.

I can feel the blush creep up the back of my neck and cheeks and hope that it’s too dark for him to see. The silene is peaceful and I could stay out here all night, with the mixture of fresh air and the hot water.

“Does it matter?” I ask turning towards him, I hadn’t realised how close he was sitting to me, I could feel my heartrate multiplying.

He smiles and shrugged, “I need more material for making fun of you,” he said but there was no harshness or mal intent behind it, an actual smile made its way onto my way and I shook my head, “Oh it was totally me,” and so the cockiness was back.

“Oh you wish,” I say with a challenge, the corner of his lips upturn, but my gaze falls down and my teeth sink into my bottom lip, “how was your kiss with Stella, I hear she’s been crushing on you,” I say with a sad echo of playfulness.

He shifted closer to me, “I didn’t kiss Stella,” he says, leaning his head against his fist, I watch his face waiting, “I told her there is only one person I want to kiss, and it’s not her,”.

His eyes flutter down to my lips, I can’t help but take in a breath and search his face.

“Who is it then?” I ask, so quietly you could almost miss it.

“It’s you, silly,” he says as if he were explaining it to a five-year-old.

The silence returned.

“Y/l/n”

I turned to face him again, his hand came up to move my hair behind my ear.

“Min Ho,” I say in tone that came out as a mix of a warning but also desire that was bubbling too close to the surface, we were crossing dangerous grounds here and there would be no going back.

His eyes went to my lips and mine to his. Then he was leaning in, I closed my eyes and let it happen. His lips against mine was much better than my imagine could ever do it justice, it was slow kiss, then another, and one more before he pulled away slightly and rested his forehead against mine.  

“I’ve been waiting a long while to do that,” he says and the strain in his tone brings out something in me. I put my arms around his hand and pull him onto another kiss, this one deeper, his arms found my waist and he pulls me closer and closer until I’m sitting on his lip.

“Better than you could have imaged, I know,” he says after he pulls away and laugh, moving my hand to splash him with water.

“I hate that Kitty was right. Again,” I say.

Min Ho runs a hand through his hair, “This is the only time I’m not mad that that girl is right,” he states.

Eventually we left the hot tub and made our way back inside, most people have dispersed to different rooms, the atmosphere definitely ruined. Kitty was sat crossed legged on the sofa staring at her phone as we walked in, Min Ho gave me a smile and pointed his head in her direction.

“Kitty,” I said nervously.

Her eyes shot directly to me, her eyes also red, she dropped her phone and rushed over to me pulling me into a hug, I squeezed her tightly.

“I’m so sorry,” I said, “I shouldn’t have said anything- it wasn’t my place-” I started to say rapidly btu Kitty interrupted me

“I’m also sorry, I’ve been so caught up in all this drama I didn’t even know you were fighting with your parents, and it’s good it got out now, it would have been so much more hurtful for everyone the longer it was kept quiet.

“I love you girl,” I said, tears building up in my eyes.

She giggled “I love you more,” she said pulling away, “and now I want to hear every detail about what just happened in that hot tub!” she squealed pulling to me to the sofa and pointing out the window a clear view of the tub, I hid my face behind me hands, “Looks like Kitty the matchmaker was right again,” she said proudly.

It was a relief that Kitty was able to forgive me, we spoke a little about Min Ho aware that he could be lurking around anywhere, then we talked about my fall out with my parents, and I dropped them a text saying we should talk when they wake up. Before we knew it was well past one in the morning and we agreed it was time for bed.

I paused in front of Min Ho’s door questioning whether to knock and say goodnight or if that was too weird.

“You go girl!” Kitty whisper cheered walking towards the room we slept in last night.

I took a deep breath in preparation and knocked, “Come in,” the voice on the other side said and so the rest of the night was spent talking and cuddling, maybe this trip wasn’t a total disaster after all.                                                                                  

[evie-sturns]

first date - Matt Sturniolo

summary: after a perfect first date with matt, the last thing you expected is for him to make such a big move after he drives you home, you definitely aren't complaining after though,

contains: fluff, an intense makeout session, shy!matt (to an extent) swearing.

------------------------------------------------------------

tonight had just been perfect,

i met matt at a party last week, and i couldn’t say no to his somewhat amusingly awkward self as he asked for my number.

he was just my type, his loose brown waves draped over his forehead, his earrings catching the light from the party and sparkling, and his shy demeanour.

he messaged me a day ago, asking if i wanted to go out for dinner with him, which i obviously agreed to.

10:21pm

i shivered in the cool air of the night, smiling up at matt as he ordered you both an ice-cream cone,

“you cold?” matt asks softly, i nod as i sink my top teeth into my bottom lip as a weak attempt to stop the chattering of my teeth.

“a little bit,” i laugh,

matt instantly takes off his jacket and drapes it over my shoulders,

“why didn’t you bring a coat? it’s like the middle of december.” he scoffs, nudging my elbow slightly.

“shuuush, i didn’t know you’d take me out for icecream at like- midnight!” i throw my hands up defensively,

“righhttt.” he grins down at me.

-

the night was coming to a close as you jumped into the passenger seat of matt’s car, clutching an icecream cone in your hand as you fiddled with the seatbelt.

“you okay?” he asks, starting up the car.

“yeah- i’m still cold though.” i roll my eyes playfully, matt instantly reaches out and fiddles with the heating, cranking it up.

“wait what the fuck- since when did i have the option to have heated seats!” he exclaims, his jaw slack as he pushes the button.

“ew matt! my butts warm now.” i groan, instantly turning off the button.

matt laughs loudly as he pulls out of the parking lot, staring the drive home.

i look over at him a couple times, his ringed fingers gripping the steering wheel catching my eye.

i’m definitely staring now.

his hands were perfect, he was perfect. i genuinely did not catch one wrong thing about him from the date.

he was shy, but the right amount of shy, i could tell he was starting to get more comfortable around me, which i liked.

matt pulls onto the highway, the car roaring as he accelerates.

i continue to work at my icecream cone, trying to stop the massive staring problem i’ve picked up.

matt’s playlist plays through the car, his knee bobbing up and down as he listens to it.

“you live down here right?” matt asks, pulling off the highway into a small neighbourhood.

“you remembered!” i grin,

“of course i did.” he speaks back, his tone light hearted.

“i’m just down here.” i say, pointing to a street sign.

he pulls into the street, his car slowing down as he scans the row of houses.

he parks the car in front of my house. swallowing lightly as he turns off the car.

“thank you- so much for tonight matt.” i say, my tongue darting out to lick my lips,

“yeah- yeah no problem..” he whispers,

“we should do it again soon.” i speak, matt nods.

“i’ll text you, okay?” he says, a nervous smile on his face.

“okay- yeah.” i grin, a undeniable tension building in the car…

i grab my purse and reach for the door, but matt clears his throat.

i look over my shoulder at him, he looks nervous as shit.

he reaches up and cups my jaw, the cold metal of his rings pressing against my flushed cheek.

he leans over the centre console and presses a kiss to my lips.

he pulls away pretty quickly, knowing this is the first date and we shouldn’t do any more… right?

but for some reason, the feeling of his lips on mine linger.

i stare at his lips, not moving.

i need more.

i know i’m going to have to initiate something, knowing he’s to shy to make a lot of moves.

“can- can we do that again?” i speak, my voice hoarse as i break the silence.

he nods instantly, his hands clenching by his sides.

i lean back over the centre console, grabbing his chin as i press my lips to his again.

my face heats up instantly, pure ecstasy flooding through my body.

he deepens the kiss, his head tilting to the side as our noses brush.

goosebumps cover my arms as his tongue slides over my lip, practically begging for entry.

i don’t know what comes over me, but in a matter of seconds i’m climbing over the seats,

i sit down on matt’s lap, straddling him as i break the kiss.

he stares up at me, his eyes wide and full of need.

he grabs the back of my head, instantly reconnecting our lips.

“fuck..” he whimpers against my lips,

i feel a familiar heat growing between my thighs, my skirt riding up my legs as i practically devour him with my lips.

he just tastes so, so good.

his hands paw at my waist, grabbing the fabric of my thin shirt as he holds me.

i subconsciously rock my hips against his thigh.

he gasps against my lips as i grind against his clothed thigh.

“oh my god..” i whisper against his lips as i pathetically rub myself against his leg.

i feel myself getting too into it, not wanting to rush him on the first date.

i break the kiss, the windows now foggy.

he looks up at me with pure desperation.

god he looks hot.

his lips are smeared with my red lipstick, the pigment messily coating his chin. his eyes are narrow and hungry, and his hands are gripping my waist, tight.

i reach up and wipe his lips, trying to remove the lipstick stains.

“i’ll- i’ll uh- okay- um-“ matt stammers,

“i’ll- i’ll text you.” he croaks out, his hands sinking into my waist.

“okay- okay.” i breathe,

i quickly crawl back over the centre console and grab my purse.

i look back at matt over my shoulder, his lips are puffy and red.

his hair is dishevelled, and as my eyes travel down his body.

he is most definitely hard.

i grin at him before swinging open the car door,

“b-bye- bye!” he calls out shakily,

“bye matt-!” i smile as i step out onto the footpath, shutting the car door behind me.

i jog up to my house, my heels clicking on the driveway.

i swing open my front door and suck in a well needed deep breath.

i walk over to my couch, and before i even have the time to sit down my phone vibrates frantically in my pocket.

5 new messages from - Matt

my eyes scan over the messages, which read.

“come back to the car”

“i seriously need you right now this isn’t funny”

“please”

“i’m still parked outside please”

“i’ll literally do anything.”

and before i know it, i’m rushing for my front door and running down the driveway towards matt’s car.

——-

@sturnsdoll @obvisturns @stupid4sturniolo @meerkatzthings @witchofthehour @rosalierenee43 @gabrielle-brun1 @ilovemymannnnnnnn @sturnioloxlver @buckys-goodgirl @sturniol0s @ilovemymannnnnnn n @chr1sgirl4life @luanetaluenta @sturnsssbow w @mattfangirl girl @luvr4miya @luvtay111 @lolasturniolo @freshloveforthefit @ruedowney @lovingchrissposts @333michelle e @h3arts4harry @jamiesturniolo o @chrisstopherfilmed @ @daddyslilchickenfingers2 @ev3rgreenxtrees @certifiednatelover er @solarsturniolo larsturniolo lo @mattsenthusiast t @yomamaslays4lyfe @peachmels @alinaa131 @pepsiluvr0209 @creamoncreamoncream2 @szobofc @mattscoquette e @blahbell668 @sturniolo04 @bitchydragonparadise @sturni0l0tripletzz @ratatioulle @sturnsfav @mattsonlybitch @justalittle47 @sunsetsturniolos @sturniolo04 @similartokayyz @sturnsintrouble @ilovemattsturn @raysmayhem-72 @75sturn @sturniol0s @secret-sturniolo @hfkeclnendmwodne @sturniolosass @gxldenlush @stonermattsgf @101saroona a @beccaluvschris @oliviasturniolo21 1 @imwetforyourmom @tylerstacobell @sunsetsturniolos @aliceloveschris @jayz4dayz 4 @sassysturniolo2008 @nyktoxs-lover r @nathandoesgf @starsturns234 @chrissturnsss s @joemamaaa42069 @sturnthepot @zayyluvz @realuvrrr @livialifesblog @sturnioloblogs @riowritesitall john @raysmayhem-72

[klemen-tine]

Please Please Please (Mom! Reader x Batfam)

Don't prove I'm right~ I love that song so much. Anyways! Not extreme Yandere, but part 2 will have some. This is just the setting up for it. Also, while writing I won't lie, I forgot about Damien, so he will have a lot of showtime in the next part. FYI

TW: Cheating, slapping (Reader slaps Bruce), Reader also throws something at Bruce.

In now way do I condone partner violence. no matter how mad you get, you should never hit or throw something at your partner.

In case you have never heard this song before, first of all who are you? Secondly here is the link

@Rosecentury 

@Problematicreblogger

@Kurai-hono-blog 

@Lunaluz432

@testishere

Y/N had put her life on pause for Bruce and his hero complex. She is a top-model. A supermodel that is still being asked to do photoshoots, make guest appearances, and dominate the runway despite her time away from it. The strict workout regime was still her daily exercise, and she still was conscious of what she ate. Age had not affected her the way it has to some of her friends because Y/N lived to be a model. 

Yet, she had put that on the backburner for her husband and kids. She forced her attention onto the scarred and vibrant children that her traumatized husband brought in like strays. Y/N raised them, alongside Alfred. It’s because of them that their sons and daughters did not turn out as crooked as Bruce Wayne. A man that was full of jagged and sharp pieces, piercing the skin of whoever got close. 

E/C eyes rolled nearly out her socket, taking a sip of the morning coffee and waiting for her youngest to come down. She ignored the nervous glances being sent her way from her sons, and instead pulled out her phone to look for a familiar contact. 

“None of you have anything I need to be here for, do you?” Tim and Jason quickly shook their heads, and Dick gave a nervous smile, “Not really… although it would be nice if you stayed here though.” Y/N raised a delicate eyebrow, and a sharp smile formed on her lips as she pressed ‘call,’ “Ah, don’t worry Dickie, I’ll come back. I’m just going on a trip.” 

The person answered, and before they could start spewing curses, Y/N greeted them, “Hey, Jackie! It’s Y/N.” 

“Y-Y/N! What’s going on?” 

“Remember those gigs you were telling me about?” 

“Yeah?” 

“Book them.” The boys stood up while her manager on the other line sputtered in excitement, “Really?! Oh my gosh Y/N this is so exciting! Which ones do you want? I know you want to stay close to Gotham -heaven knows why- but I can find some in-” 

“All of them.” 

“...what?” 

“Book all of them.” Jackie hummed, “Some are out of the country though.” 

“Even better! Pack your bags Jackie, we are gonna be gone for a while. Bring Stella too, I’ll pay for both of your tickets and lodgings.” Jackie was stuttering, “The-the first gig in a week is Venice, Italy! Is that enough time for you to-” 

“Let's leave tonight.” 

“Tonight?!” Everyone screeched, and Y/N gave her sons an annoyed look, “Yes, tonight. Let's enjoy Venice like when we were young, and show Stella around. I’m sure the two of you could use a vacation anyways.” 

“....Y/N, is everything okay?” 

“Peachy. See you tonight.” Y/N hung up, and threw her phone on the opposite end of the couch, continuing to sip her cup of coffee as the news reporter continued to talk about Batman and his risky rendezvous with Catwoman. The perfect love story. 

The pursuer and the pursued. The cop and robber. Batman, the man of justice, and Catwoman, a thief. 

Her jaw clenched, and her fingers tightened around the handle of the mug. The air around her was full of jitters and Dick was basically vibrating with worry, Jason focused intensely on his phone, and Tim was drinking even more coffee. 

“Um, mom, are you… is this…” Dick was fumbling, trying to find the words, and Y/N smiled, “C’mon on Dickie. It’s been a while since I went on the runway, or even in front of a camera outside of Gotham. You’re all old enough now, it’s fine.” 

“What about Dami?” Y/N smiled sadly, “Dami will be fine. Hell, today I’ll have him help me choose the jewelry and clothes that I will be packing.”

“You’re gonna have him help you pack your bags to leave?” Tim wondered, and Y/N flinched out how terrible that sounded, “Not like that. It’s a trip. A fashion trip and a girls trip.” Jason scrunched his nose, “Ma, fucking Bruce just go caught cheating and was broadcasted across the NEWs, and you’re now leaving for a trip. Do you think Dami will understand that?” 

Y/N took a sip of her coffee, “He will. It’ll be a conversation but it will be reiterated as many times as he needs to hear it. Plus, it’s not like you guys can’t call me.” Damien came stomping down the stairs, dressed in the Gotham Academy Uniform, and Y/N threw on a smile that would have had actresses crying, “Dami! I need your help today, so nevermind school.” Green eyes blinked in shock, his gaze taking in every one in the room before landing back on her, “Are you needing my assistance in packing?” 

“Only for a trip. So there’s no need to pack everything.” Damien nodded, “Fine. I will assist you. You have an abysmal amount of jewelry and some of them are simply deplorable.” Y/N chuckled, “Thanks Dami.” He went back up the stairs to change, and Y/N turned back to the NEWs where they were finally talking about something different. 

Sighing, Y/N stood up from the couch, “I’ll be in my room packing if anyone needs anything.” Silence followed her, and once she was out of earshot, Dick proceeded to panic even more. 

+++

She’s in Greece now. After spending a week in Italy, a week in Iceland, two weeks in France, and now four days in Zakynthos, Greece, she knows her vacation time is limited. Y/N has been using Bruce’s card to pay for the three luxury hotel rooms, one for herself (obviously), Jackie, and Stella. She’s used them for the plane flight in first class, the first class train ride, the yacht to get to this island, the fancy dinners, shopping sprees, any time that she needed to put money down she was using his card. 

Bruce is a billionaire, he doesn’t care and Y/N is also a billionaire, but this is her way of being petty. Why would she waste her money? 

A delicate eyebrow raised at the man in the mirror, followed by two of their sons and a butler dressed in a Hawaiian shirt. 

“Lady Y/N, it is great to see you.” 

“Hey Alfie, vacation looks good on you. I highly recommend the mimosa’s here, none of them have been bad.” 

“Hi Ma, you look relaxed.” Jason walked further into the room, taking a seat on the plush chair and grabbing a grape, and tossing some to Dick. Their oldest son smiled and waved, “C’mon mom, I know you’ve been here before, but you could at least try and look like a tourist.” Y/N rolled her eyes, smiling lovingly and flicking her hair over her shoulder. She leaned close to the mirror again, rubbing sunscreen on her face and massaging it into her skin. 

Her husband made his way a little closer as the family spread out in the room. Jason sitting in the chair, Dick on the bed, and Alfred standing near the door. Y/N sneered at Bruce through the mirror, “Bringing the kids to see you get humiliated is something I would have never thought you’d do.” 

Bruce sighed heavily, and Y/N wiped her hands on the towel and sipped her mimosa. Piercing blue eyes, filled with exhaustion and guilt, met hers, “Y/N, how much longer are you scheduled for?” 

“Hmm, for a while Bruce,” She pretended to think, “After all, I’ve been wanting to get back into modeling now that most of the kids are becoming independent, and what better way to announce to the world that I am back than a hard launch.” Bruce raised an eyebrow at her, “Will it be my card you’ll continue to use.”

“Of course! It's the least my darling, idiotic, and hormone-rivaling-a-teenager husband can do after that stunt, right?” The room got colder and Dick sat up straighter at the tension between his two parental figures. Y/N has always had a sharp tongue and quick wit, one she used on Bruce a lot. Rarely ever was it aimed to be hurtful though. 

“Y/N, temper.” Dick’s jaw opened and Jason made an exaggerated gasp. Alfred looked pained as Y/N whirled around and seethed at Bruce, “Temper? Temper?! Who the hell are you to tell me to watch my temper when you can’t even control your own hormones? 

“If you wanted to see my temper you just had to fucking say so!” Dick turned to Alfred, trying to see if there was anything he could do, but at the resigned look the man gave him, the oldest son choked on a noise, “This is a new side of mom.” 

“Lady Y/N has always had a temper, one that rivals Master Bruce.” She looked like a puffed up cat while Bruce was cowing like a dog with puppy eyes, “When they were younger, she would put even the adults in their place.” Her hand grabbed the now cold coffee pot, and Dick feels like it was only because Bruce was used to stuff being thrown at him and catching things that he was able to grab the projectile before it landed on the walls and carpet. Alfred raised a brow, “Sometimes that temper bleeds into other things.” 

Their mother was seething in front of Bruce, looking like a bull and was ready to charge into a china shop. While Bruce may not be as delicate as one, Dick has money on Y/N still doing a lot of damage if she were to charge. Metaphorically and physically.  

“Y/N, please.” Bruce tried again, only to see her get more angry. His hands were up in a placating manner, and Y/N held her own hands tense and ready to swing if he came closer. 

“Y/N, it genuinely was an accident.” 

“ ‘it genuinely was an accident’–” She mocked, purposefully making her voice annoying “-fuck off! Like your tongue going down her throat is an accident. Didn’t know that could happen!” Y/N looked around again for something to chuck, while Bruce closed the space between them inch by inch. 

“What’s next? Are you going to trip and accidentally find yourself between her legs with your pants down?” Jason and Dick blanched at the imagery. 

“Over a decade of marriage, of me playing the perfect ex-model-arm-candy wife for Bruce Wayne just for you dressed in a fucking furry suit to go and makeout with another fucking furry! 

“Like! I know we weren’t in this for love, but there. Are. Still. Standards!” She enunciated each word with a swat of her hand on Bruce’s shoulder. 

“I still have standards! You don’t see me making out with anyone else do you? Even as I’m playing Supermodel Y/N, dressed to the millions and making everyone drool, I don’t go making out with them!” 

“How could Batman, of all persona’s you wish to play, do that? I expected that from Brucie, not Batman, defender of Justice or whatever bullshit you spew when dressed in that gothic suit.” 

Bruce sighed, “Y/N, it was bad timing.” He gave her a hard look, “Justice and this are different. You cannot compare the two.” The man knew he messed up once the words left his mouth and he closed his eyes in regret. 

Jason saw the slap coming and he braced himself for the impact it would have. Bruce didn’t catch it, despite him being fully capable of it, and when it landed everyone winced at the sound and the red mark. 

“Well this is my justice. Now go away. I have a photoshoot to get ready for and you are just pissing me off!” The hand print was immaculate. One that had Jason biting back a laugh and Dick looking horrified. Y/N whirled back around to face her vanity, where all her jewelry laid on the surface, and her attention was focused back on picking which one would go with her outfit to the shoot. 

Jason whistled when Bruce turned around to face his kids and Butler, “Good hit Ma. You should hit the other side to even it out.” Y/N gave a laugh, picking up the pearl earrings encased with gold, and she continued to pick out a necklace. 

“Jay, help me out here please.” Rough hands replaced her’s, and green eyes met furious E/C though the mirror. Using the safety of her son’s larger frame to hide herself, Y/N slowly let herself crumble a little bit. Jason could see the anger, hurt, and sadness that was slowly turning the sclera red from holding back tears. There was a subtle shake in her shoulders and the trembling of lips, but Y/N held it together. She was holding onto it by the seams, desperately waiting for the man causing her pain to be gone. 

When the gold clasped, Y/N reached over for her large hat and sunglasses, “Enjoy the beach. Alfie, you especially should enjoy this vacation. Don’t let this  stupid, untrustworthy, and manwhore of a furry disrupt it.” With that, she slammed her hotel room door on her way out, and they all listened as her heels clicked down the hall until they were out of ear shot. 

Alfred glanced at his ward, “Well, I am not one for violence when there are disputes between partners, but I will say that one slap was well deserved, Master Bruce.” The man sighed, slightly rubbing his cheek, “I think the last time she hit me that hard was when we were in grade school.” 

“She put all her body weight into that.” Dick glanced at the hand print, “Woah, I think you can see the ring too.” Jason whistled, and Bruce closed his eyes and took deep breaths to keep himself steady, reflecting on the conversation and where exactly he messed up. 

“I think this is the third time she’s slapped me…” 

“Fourth, sir.” Bruce nodded, remembering the third time. Jason raised an eyebrow, “I only know of the time you were both 6, and you said something mean so she hit you.” Dick pouted, “I know of the one in Middle School, when you were once accused of touching her butt.” 

Alfred raised a brow, “The third time was when she dropped you off at the manor after a long night of drinking and you—” 

“Thanks Alfred, there’s no need to tell that story.” Bruce’s cheeks were now flushed from embarrassment rather than the slap on his cheek.  Y/N truly has seen him through it all. When he got into fights in school, it was always her eyes he sought out after each one. Bored E/C eyes, framed by thick lashes and elegant eyeliner, always watching with a blank expression. Bruce Wayne rarely phased Y/N L/N. When he was younger, he noticed how his last name made people stumble or stutter when talking to him, allowing him to say whatever he wanted. It did nothing to Y/N, who met his gaze and taunts head on with her own witty comebacks that stuck at parts of Bruce that had him fumbling. 

He can remember his dad, Thomas Wayne, laughing when he caught Y/N’s sly comeback directed at Bruce after he said something about her dress. Y/N’s own parents looked mortified. 

Y/N L/N-Wayne was a flame that never wavered. It’s what made her successful at modeling, and a supermodel in her first two years. That flame is what had photographers, stylists, fashion designers, and make up artists still call her up, begging for her to come back. A force of nature that had only paused for Bruce and their children. 

“C’mon, Y/N. Even you can see the benefits of this.” The woman raised her brow at a younger Bruce, who was smiling at her. 

“Your life does not pause, and now with the Wayne name as yours, your options are endless.” 

“And what about you?” 

“This means I no longer have to play as a playboy in public and everyone will stop asking me to marry them or their daughters.” Y/N laughed, “Nah, you’ll still get them. They’ll just now be whispered behind closed doors.” 

Bruce smiled, “The standards of a regular marriage will still apply. Obviously not the sex part or anything, but everything else will. Think of it like living with roommates.

“This will work for the both of us, Y/N.” The woman smiled into the rim of her cup, red lips leaving an imprint on the glass. 

It took him five tries for her to finally agree. There might have been some manipulation on his side of things, but he got that ring on her finger, and 2 months later she was walking down the aisle in a wedding dress that was deemed ‘The Dress of the Century.’ She was beautiful, even more so than usual. 

Dick glanced at him, “So, what’s the plan?” Bruce sighed, “Just make sure she doesn’t get hurt.” 

++++

It took 4 months for Y/N to come back to the manor. Within those 4 months, one of them were always with her. Switching off when they hit a new city, and each one had tried their charm on having her come back to the mansion. Bruce was going crazy, therefore Batman was more brutal than usual, and that the meant the other birds had to pick up the slack when it came to emotions. Bruce had all but shut down every other part that wasn’t Batman. 

However, nothing returned to normal once she was back. Her and Bruce were rarely in each other’s presence, and she refused to see or do anything about Batman. Y/N was trying to remove herself from Bruce Wayne completely, and no one liked that. 

Bruce and Y/N may claim that they were never in love, and that they only married for convenience. However, Dick will always remember watching Bruce and Y/N dancing in the main hall of the manor. He was hanging onto the chandelier, not yet noticed by either, as a song began playing and they both began dancing. 

They had been dressed in casual clothes, which consisted of dark blue jeans and nice tops and shoes. Dick’s young eyes watched as the two of them swayed and twirled around each other, Y/N laughing at the whispered words Bruce would share, and the stern man relaxing for the duration of the time. 

They were far from the perfect couple. Their parenting styles were different, and it took a while for Y/N to warm up to Dick. She was never cold or malicious, but just like Dick and everyone else, she was lost. However, it was her awkward arms he sought after when he had a bad day, or when Bruce got on his nerves. It was her eyes he always seeked approval for. 

When she caught him hastily packing, dying to get away from the man that had his rules tighter than the Robin suit, she helped. Y/N had folded his clothes, snuck a bottle of Smirnoff and Titos into his luggage, because moving required at least two bottles of alcohol, and she hugged him goodbye. 

Every member of this family has a memory tied to Y/N. A gentle one. 

Damian had kind memories, where Y/N smiled at him for no reason. She did not expect perfection, and one time she stated how she wished Damian would fail sometimes. It was something that had him seething and jumping to defend himself, but Y/N laughed, “Failure is our best teacher, Damian. What better time to fail then when you knwo you have people willing to help you up?” 

Jason remembers peeking on Y/N when he was younger. Watching through the cracks of the door as she and Bruce swayed to music, laughed at old memories, or simply sat around each other and read a book. Sometimes, he’d catch her trying on her jewelry, or reorganizing her perfume. Every now and then she would go through her closet and donate clothes she no longer wanted or needed. 

He watched how Dick, would seek her out whenever he and Bruce argued. When Jason finally allowed himself to be wrapped in those arms– arms that always had Bruce looking ready to sacrifice everything, that had Dick relaxing, and Alfred smiling endearingly– and he can see why they did so. It's different from Bruce, because Bruce makes you feel protected. In Bruce’s arms, Jason knows that there is almost nothing that can harm him. 

In Y/N’s embrace, Jason feels at peace. There’s no need to worry about protection because he’s in a place that does not need it. When he dances with Y/N, to their song nonetheless, there is nothing that can ever disrupt the moment. Y/N stares at him with adoration, just how she does with Dick, only her attention is on him. Him! A street rat from Dowry, Crime Alley, and he has the attention of the woman that is Bruce’s equal in the highest social circles. 

Those soft E/C eyes, that always stared at them with warmth and love, stared back at him through the mirror. He and Tim, because Timmy loved her just as much as he did, watched as Y/N emptied another glass of the Rose, and how the exhaustion from all the shows, photoshoots, flashing cameras, and the ordeal with Bruce seeped into her bones. 

“Hey Ma, let's get some sleep.” Jason walked closer, carefully minding the scattered jewelry that looked more expensive than any of his weapons, and Tim, who was forever on the same wavelength as Jason, scampered over to the large bed and lit the diffuser. 

Y/N hummed, running her hands through her hair, before tilting her head back and looking at Jason once more, “You both shouldn’t be here. I can handle this myself.” Y/N never liked it when any of the kids saw her less than presentable. She was always dressed in nice clothes, with nice jewelry, and makeup even at the manor. It's one of the worries of being a model, she had told Dick, always scared that the nosey paparazzi will catch you at your worst and share it with an even crueler audience. 

Jason had once confided in her about Willis Todd, and how he hated it when she drank in front of him. Whether it was scotch or champagne. 

After that, Y/N always drank in her room. 

The thing is, that Jason knows Y/N wouldn’t ever hurt him. She’s not like Willis who purposefully seeked out to hurt someone smaller. Jason knows that no matter how mad she got at him, she wouldn’t do anything (unlike what she would do to Bruce).

This is why, despite all the trauma he has with alcohol and people being intoxicated, he can confidently move the bottle away and the glass. Noting how both were empty. 

Tim strolled over, and gave a small smile through the mirror, “I’ll brush your hair, Mom. Then you should sleep.” Y/N tried to wave him off, “Don’t bother. I can do it myself. You both should go.” She sluggishly reached out for the vintage decorated paddle brush, only for Tim to snatch it before she could. 

“I want to do it. Besides, if it bothers you, think of it as me returning the favor.” The confused look Y/N gave him had him smiling patiently as he stood behind her and gently began to brush the locks of hair. Y/N sighed, “This is embarrassing. My kids should not be taking care of me.” 

“I’m an adult.” 

“CEO of Wayne Enterprises as well. Taking care of you when you are in a low spot is the least I could do.” Lord knows how many times Y/N has cared for them at their lowest. When Tim believed that Bruce was stuck in the Time Stream, Y/N didn’t seem all that confident in it, but she still believed him and helped him narrow down locations. She kept the press busy while he went out and searched. 

He heard later that she refused to talk to Dick when she found out they wanted to put Tim in Arkham. She shook her head in disappointment when Dick told her that Damien is now Robin. Tim always thought Dick was a bit stupid on that part. Parading Damien, a child from another woman, around and in front of Y/N nonetheless. Yes, thankfully Y/N warmed up to Damien and vice versa (although for Damien it took longer),  but that could have gone bad in so many ways. 

“Still my kids.” Jason pulled a chair next to her, so they could all be in the view of the mirror, and in a rare show of affection that is only reserved for Alfred and Y/N, he rested his head on her shoulder as Tim continued to work the brush carefully through her hair. Y/N’s shoulders sagged and her back hunched a bit, and for the first time in a while, Y/N let herself look how she felt. Exhausted. Utterly and completely exhausted. 

Tim can see the dark circles under her red rimmed eyes, and the way her skin looked duller than usual. Granted, she finished a long gig, working tirelessly for months posing, getting dressed up, and traveling around the world to forget Bruce’s infidelity. 

‘Standards,’ she said in response to his excuse. Tim isn’t stupid to believe that neither Bruce or Y/N have feelings for the other. He’s seen it. It's in the way that Bruce concedes in arguments, or the flowers and necklaces he buys her when he’s apologetic, how the harsh glare that was directed at Tim when he first became Robin eased the moment Y/N pulled the boy close to her. Acting as a shield and sword for him. 

Her message was clear, and Bruce decided to read it. 

Y/N on the other hand lessened Bruce’s stress when he was CEO, the breaks from brooding to dance in the main hall to their song, or even acting as the sound of reason for him. She keeps him tethered to Earth, never letting his thoughts stray too far from reality. 

They may not be in love, but they still liked each other. Enough so that Bruce went along with her whims, just how she does with him. Enough so for Bruce to chase her across the world. Looking at it, perhaps Bruce was the one in love. 

“Jason, can you pass me the scrunchie?” He grabbed the silk scrunchie from large hands, and began braiding his mom’s hair. 

“You guys are being so silly,” Y/N huffed, and Jason beamed at her, giving her a boyish smile that he never shows anymore, “Anything for ya, Ma.” She subtly shook her head, a smile on her face as she looked back into the mirror. 

“Is this still about Bruce?” Tim kept his eyes on the braid, but from the tension in her shoulders, he hit the jackpot. Y/N brought her hand up to rub her forehead, “That idiot…” 

“Join the club, Ma.” Y/N took a deep breath, “He’s so stupid. It’s one thing to kiss another woman, which is fine. Do what you want to do, it’s not like we married for love.” A glare formed on her face, “But to get caught is another thing. Fucking idiot, he can only think with his hormones like a teenager. Even Dami isn’t like that, thank god.” 

Tim tied off the braid with the silk scrunchie, watching Y/N get heated again, “I hate him.” Except it was said with no bite, and the way Y/N’s lip wobbled had Tim hearing other words alongside the ones she mumbled. Jason leaned into her, offering her comfort while Tim watched from the reflection in the mirror.

Y/N to Tim was what Janet Drake had failed to be. He learned a lot from both of them, and it helped that both women were huge players in their social circles and socialites. They both taught him how to play with people’s perception of someone. Only Janet taught him to keep a straight face and not show emotion, while Y/N taught him that with a correct smile and a well placed chuckle, someone can be eating out of the palm of their hands. Both women approached the world with different weapons and tools, and both women used and taught them to him. 

Only Y/N also knew when it was time to put down the mask and become a reliable person for Tim, while Janet continued to only be Janet to Tim. 

He loves them both. Except, with Y/N he felt that if she were to ever leave him the way Janet did then he would have no choice but to follow and bring her back. Wherever Y/N goes, Tim will follow. 

“Boys.” Jason and Tim snapped their attention to the door, and Bruce was standing there, menacingly longingly. His face in an unusual expression, but one he’s worn a lot throughout the time Y/N was gone. An expression all the boys have gotten to know. Tim escaped, saying goodnight to both parental figures, before leaving for the cave. 

Jason pecked Y/N’s cheek, whispering good night and glaring at Bruce, “Don’t fuck this up old man.” To which Bruce sighed and nodded, closing the door after Jason. For the first time in months, it was just Y/N and Bruce. Alone with each other’s company and Bruce knows that if she could, she’d probably be strangling him right now. 

With great hesitancy, one that he could never show as Batman, he sat on the bed about a foot away from her. 

“I paused my life for you.” Y/N glared into blue eyes, “I paused almost everything, for you. For your mission. For the children you brought into our home, without asking me about it beforehand, may I remind you. I love them, and don’t you dare twist that, but I would have liked to have been consulted about it first.” Y/N didn’t want to be a mother. It was never in the cards for her, and yet here she is having more children than she had ever dreamt of. 

She loves them. She’d die and kill for them, but they were never in the cards of life she wanted dealt to her. 

“I paused so much, just for you to go and.. And… and do that.” Bruce winced at that, and Y/N felt happy that he did. Gritting her teeth, Y/N turned her attention to look at the fire. The heat of it reminds her of her own rage and the coldness she feels when in the presence of Bruce. 

Sighing heavily, she closed her eyes and bit back a groan, “And once I start getting my life started again, having fun, going on the runway and magazines, here you come storming back.” 

“You looked like you needed the break.” Y/N shook her head, “Did you know, that that is one of your worst habits. Always making yourself out to be the hero.” She took a glass of wine and watched the liquid swirl in the glass, “Of course, you let me have that moment. Of course you were thinking of me, and my happiness. How kind of you.” 

Bruce sighed, watching her sip the alcohol that left a red stain on her lips. He can remember the first time he saw her in red lipstick. Shockingly, it was in-person and the red made her skin look warm and teeth appear even whiter despite the knowledge that red lipstick can make your teeth look yellower. It was a beautiful shade, matched by her dress. 

She was beautiful. Breathtakingly so. Even as time progressed and she and he got older, Y/N remained beautiful. Defying the laws time and age as she remained ethereal. Unfairly so. 

Bruce had wanted to preserve that beauty, in the same way that many tried to preserve the flowers from the garden and the expensive smelling perfume. He wanted nothing more than for Y/N to continue smiling and for the fire to remain bright. 

To do that, he had to stay away. He could not allow himself to love her, because if he fell then he would drag her through the mud with him. Yet, here he is on the other side of that cold look, one that had him hesitating. That kiss with Selena was terrible timing all around. She had caught him in a moment of weakness, and someone just so happened to be there at the worst moment to catch it all. 

Staying away proved to be ineffective when here she is drinking wine with red-rimmed eyes and anger in her brows. 

“This marriage was never one for love, but there are standards. Ones we talked about beforehand.” 

“I know.” Y/N pursed her lips, tilting her head to the left and watching Bruce with distrustful eyes. The man sighed heavily and he sat in front of her, taking his own glass and pouring himself some wine. He didn’t like this type of wine, and from the very small scrunch in her nose Y/N didn’t like it either. 

The more he stared at her, taking in her still youthful features and eyes that burned bright, the more he could feel his emotions rising to the surface. Feelings and emotions he long tried to bury, but never quite succeeded. He had hoped that kissing Selena would just prove that he is only missing her as a sexual partner, and it only confirmed for him that he was in love with her. 

He is in love with Y/N L/N-Wayne. His kids are in love with Y/N. Alfred loves Y/N. The whole Wayne family, extended and all, are in love with this woman. This woman has nothing to do with their vigilantism, but instead reminds them that they are also normal and exist outside of masks and costume. That they are human and not shadows of the night. 

That they are the Wayne family. 

God, he loves her so much. So much. She is his weakness, his strength, his everything. The fancy cufflinks that are only brought out for special occasions, the expensive wine cracked open for celebrations, the pearl earring worn for the best performances. Y/N is the treasure of the Wayne family. 

Carefully, he wrapped an arm around her waist, slowly inching his way around her, testing the waters to see if she would shake him off or hiss at him. When there was no sign of that, he tightened his hold only slightly and pressed his forehead into her shoulder, gently laying a kiss on the joint, “Like I said, it was an accident. She caught me at a bad time, and I wasn’t expecting her to do that.” 

Y/N released a heavy sigh, and Bruce hugged her tighter, “I swear. It wasn’t consensual.” She rubbed her forehead, and Bruce watched how the lines slowly faded and melted back into her skin. Y/N never wore exhaustion well, which was why on mornings she had early photoshoots, she would sleep in her room instead of Bruce’s. She always woke up when he would stalk in and climb under the sheets with her. 

“Please, Y/N. Give me a chance. Let me take care of you the way you should be.” Y/N chuckled at that, “Careful Bruce, keep saying stuff like that and I might start to believe you have feelings for me.” Ice blue met E/C, and Y/N hesitated for a moment. Something chilling going down her spine, “I guess, I should start saying it more often then.” 

“Bruce…” He pecked her cheek, careful of the fire he was playing with, and carefully watching her reactions. His arms encircled her tighter, and he kissed her shoulder. Bruce watched, and observed how the tension slowly left her and reluctant acceptance came across her face. His arms tightened, and Bruce fought back a smile. 

“Ever the charmer,” She mumbled. Bruce huffed a laugh, and Y/N shook her head, “If I catch you with your mouth on anyone else’s but mine, I’m going to sick the kids on you.” An image of four rabid dogs, followed by a few more, filled his mind. Bruce grimaced as he remembered the tongue lashing he got from everyone, “Noted.” 

Y/N chuckled, and Bruce smiled, throwing his weight back on the pillows, bringing Y/N with him. His arms still tight around her waist, and a promise on his lips. 

‘I’ll never let you go again.’ 

________________________________________________

Not super Yandere, but it is getting there.

[grapejuicenharry]

Angel

Harry and Y/N are best friends— except they have feelings for each other (4k words)

warnings : smut 18+, fluff, kissing, grinding, jealous h

read part 2 of angel here

✶⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ˙⋆ . ✶⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ˙⋆✶. ⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ˙⋆✶ ⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ˙⋆✶

Harry really liked—no, loved—Y/N, but he would never admit it to her. She was his best friend, and he couldn’t imagine a day without her. She was like sunshine in his life, someone he could always rely on.

“Harry, my feet hurt,” Y/N whined beside him, her cheeks flushed and her eyes glassy from one too many drinks. They were walking back from a party thrown by one of Harry’s friends, Alex. It was his birthday, and even though Harry and Y/N hadn’t planned to attend, today had been their last exam of the semester. That called for celebratory drinks after all the hard work they’d put in. Sleepless, stressful nights spent preparing for exams, completing assignments, and submitting papers—it had all been overwhelming, and tonight felt like the ideal way to finally blow off some steam.

“Didn’t I warn you about those heels?” he asked, amusement lacing his voice as he raised an eyebrow. He knew those heels always gave her trouble and told her to wear something more comfortable, but Y/N, being Y/N, never listened.

“Yeah, but they make me look sexy, and I wanted to be tall enough to at least reach your neck,” she replied absentmindedly.

“Well, guess that means I’m carrying you the rest of the way,” Harry said, and before she could protest, he hoisted her up onto his shoulders.

“Harry, my dress is too short! I’m going to flash everyone,” Y/N laughed, though there was no real concern in her voice.

Harry chuckled, placing his hand carefully to keep her covered. Besides, the streets were almost empty at 2 a.m., and there was hardly anyone around to notice.

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

Y/N met Harry on the first day of college. She was nervous and eager to make friends. Hurrying to her seat, she noticed Harry sitting next to her. The first thing she saw was his mop of curly hair, and she thought he was incredibly cute. He looked so innocent and nerdy in his black-rimmed glasses. He was just too adorable.

He wore a white T-shirt that highlighted his bulging biceps, with tattoos peeking through. Suddenly, Y/N found herself wanting to see every tattoo that adorned his beautiful body. She was so curious and lost in her thoughts about him that she didn’t realize Harry was, in fact, looking at her.

Harry thought he was dreaming as he looked at Y/N. She seemed like an angel, a beautiful one at that. She wore a cute white hoodie adorned with pink bows, and her curly hair framed her lovely face perfectly. What captivated him the most were her eyes; they were alluring, radiant, and a luminous shade of dark brown. Next were her luscious pink lips, so full and plump that he suddenly wanted to kiss them and taste them. He wondered if they tasted like berries or cherries, secretly hoping they tasted like cherries, his favorite fruit.

“Do you have an extra pen?” Y/N asked in a hushed voice. “I forgot to bring my pouch,” she added with a little pout.

“Y-yeah, yeah,” Harry replied, fixing his glasses, clearing his throat, and answering in a hoarse voice. He couldn’t believe she was actually talking to him.

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

Later that day, they sat together at lunch, talking as if hours had passed. Y/N was so grateful to have found someone as kind as Harry, who listened to every word she said with such intent. They chatted about random topics, like their favorite TV shows and ice cream flavors. When Harry revealed that his favorite flavor was mint chocolate chip, Y/N made a weird face.

“Shut up—no, don’t you dare say it!” Harry exclaimed, amused.

“But it tastes like toothpaste!” Y/N whined playfully.

“No, it does not!” Harry shot back. Y/N made a mental note to convince Harry to try every other flavor until he grew to hate mint chocolate chip.

They soon became inseparable—best friends. Harry didn’t realize just how much he had started to like Y/N until it was almost too late. He thought frequently about confessing his true feelings, but there never seemed to be the right moment. He cherished the friendship they had, and the thought of losing her terrified him to his core. So he kept those feelings hidden, bottled up, and accepted her as his best friend.

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

Harry set Y/N down on the couch when they reached her apartment. He kneeled down to take off her heels. “Ouch, slowly please,” YN whined.

“I am never letting you wear these stupid shoes again. Your feet are all red and swollen,” Harry countered, looking genuinely concerned. He hated seeing Y/N in pain. He wanted to protect her from everything and keep her safe in his cocoon—just him and Y/N.

He then carefully carried a sleepy Y/N to her bedroom and started looking for a comfortable shirt for her to wear. After finding a suitable shirt, he went to the bathroom to grab her makeup wipes and returned to find half-asleep Y/N lying on the bed. “Sweetheart, this will only take two minutes, I promise.” He began wiping her face gently.

After getting Y/N all ready for bed, Harry changed his own clothes. Y/N had “borrowed” too many of his shirts, but honestly, he never minded it. In fact, he secretly liked when Y/N wore his clothes. She looked breathtaking in his oversized shirt paired with her tiny shorts, which made Harry lose his mind.

“Come to bed and cuddle me; I need to sleep,” Y/N grumbled, rubbing her tired eyes.

“Coming, sweetheart, just two minutes,” Harry replied with a smile. He knew how grumpy Y/N got when she was sleepy. He quickly climbed into bed, set his glasses on the side table, and pulled her to his side. Cuddled next to him, Harry didn’t mind being the big spoon. He loved having Y/N molded to his side—the sweet scent of her hair, which smelled like strawberries on a sunny day, and the soft skin that felt like vanilla sundae. He adored every inch of her. Whenever he was with her, he felt like he was on cloud nine. Everything around him was rainbows and sunshine; she made everything look like it was through rose-tinted glasses.

But Harry also loved being the little spoon. There were days when he just wanted to be held, and honestly, Y/N loved having him like that—clingy, needy, like a cute little puppy.

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

One day, Harry arrived at Y/N’s apartment looking extremely worn out. Y/N was lying on the bed, comfortably engrossed in her favorite novel. She grew concerned upon seeing Harry. 

“I am so exhausted, and my head hurts,” Harry exclaimed, throwing his bag on the floor. “I had to sit in Professor Martin’s class for two hours, plus I had a psychology presentation today,” he stated tiredly while rubbing his drowsy eyes behind his frames. 

“Oh no, I’m so sorry you had such a long day, baby. Come on, lie down, and I’ll massage your head,” Y/N replied, removing the blanket from her lap. Harry immediately climbed onto the bed and dropped his head in Y/N’s lap. She carefully removed his glasses and placed them on the side table before starting to massage his head.

She threaded her fingers in his curls, scratching his head lightly, rubbing, and applying just the right amount of pressure. Harry let out a soft moan as he could already feel the tension melting away, his body instinctively relaxing further into her lap.

 “Feels amazing,” he murmured, his voice slightly muffled against her legs. 

As her skilled fingers glided over his scalp, working their magic and easing the stress that had built up after a long week. 

Y/N smiled, enjoying the way he melted under her touch. She varied her movements, alternating between gentle rubs and firmer pressure, focusing on the areas where he seemed to carry the most stress. Her fingers danced through his hair, and she leaned forward slightly to whisper, “You deserve this. Just relax.”

After what seemed like hours of massaging, Y/N realized Harry had fallen soundly asleep on her lap. His face looked peaceful, with his eyes closed and soft snores slipping through his pretty pouty lips. He looked so adorable, and Y/N couldn’t help but wish she could freeze time to savor this moment longer.

Knowing Harry would probably complain about his back in the morning, she gently shifted him, lifting his head from her lap and placing it on a pillow. His brows furrowed slightly, so she soothingly rubbed his forehead, trying to smooth away any lingering tension. Half asleep, Harry instinctively moved closer, wrapping his arms around Y/N’s waist and nuzzling his face against her boobs. His personal pillow: He always has the best sleep whenever she holds him. Y/N smiled down at him. His curls tickled her jaw, and she couldn't resist leaning down to plant a soft kiss on his head.

“Goodnight, sleepyhead,” Y/N whispered, smiling at Harry, who had already drifted back into a peaceful slumber.

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

Harry was never the jealous type—at least, not until Y/N came into his life. but right now he cant help but a bitter sensation rises up his throat when he sees yn with Jacob. A total douchebag who flirts with every girl in the college, Standing next to Y/N, too closely according to harry. Harry had come to find Y/N so they could grab tacos at their favorite spot, but instead, he’s witnessing this. Does Y/N like him? Does she have a crush on him that he doesn’t know about? What if Y/N is interested in him and wants to end her friendship with Harry? Will she forget about him? All these questions overwhelm Harry’s mind at the sight. No, no—Y/N was only his. His best friend, his angel, his sweetheart. She would never do something like this. His chest suddenly started burning at such thoughts. 

Jacob says something which makes Y/N burst into laughter. His chest tightens at the sight. He wants to be the only person to make yn laugh like that. He curses inwardly that jacob gets to experience the sweet melody of her laughter, her laugh that can instantly brighten up the room with warmth and sunshine. He thinks to himself, Does Jacob know her eyes crinkle whenever she laughs? or how the mole under her right eye disappears when she laughs because of the fullness of her cheeks? 

“Oi, whatchu looking at?” Y/N snapped her fingers in front of Harry’s face. He hadn’t realized she had come over and was talking to him. “You look like you could kill someone,” she teased, giggling as she spoke to him. 

“Was that Jacob talking to you?” Harry asked, trying to sound casual even though he was fuming inside. “Yeah, he wanted my chemistry notes because apparently he spilled coffee on his,” Y/N replied, wrapping her arm around Harry's as they walked together. 

“Did you give them to him?” Harry asked, mentally cursing Jacob and hoping she hadn’t. 

“No, obviously I know he just wanted an excuse to hit on me. I’m not dumb,” Y/N exclaimed, rolling her eyes. “Besides, you know I don’t like sharing my notes with anyone except for you, because you know how to take care of them.” She chided and planted a kiss on Harry’s cheek. His face instantly heated. 

“Good,” Harry whispered quietly, fixing his glasses, looking at the ground, too embarrassed to hide the blush of his cheek and unable to suppress a smile at the thought of Y/N rejecting that jerk. 

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

Harry loves when Y/N gets touchy like this with him. When randomly she hugs him, kisses him on his cheek, forehead, or settles on his lap while watching a movie. Her spontaneous kisses leave a soft tingle on his skin, and he can’t help but smile every time she curls up in his lap. It’s in these moments he feels closest to her, as if every touch and every kiss is a silent confession of how much she means to him. His arm instinctively wraps around her waist, pulling her in a little tighter, enjoying the way she fits perfectly against him. The movie on the screen fades into the background; all he can focus on is the warmth of her body and the way she makes him feel—like he’s exactly where he’s supposed to be. It all feels so natural. And they never have those awkward moments because they both love these touches. Whenever yn touches him, he feels electricity buzzing through him, in a good way. His skin feels like jello and his heart is thumping loudly, His brain is all muddled with goo and sparkles. 

He wants to treasure those moments forever and constantly wishes for more and more. 

It was one of those rare evenings for Harry and Y/N, Where the world seemed to quiet down just for them. They had just finished with their midterms and needed this for the longest time. Dim yellow lights, a bottle of red wine sitting on the table, a soft record player playing in the background. Legs tangled under the blanket as Harry and Y/N sat closer to each other, just enjoying each other’s presence. The warmth of Yn’s body pressed against him felt like home.

Harry’s fingers absentmindedly played with a strand of Y/N’s hair, twirling it between his fingertips. His eyes traced over her face, taking in every detail — the curve of her lips, the soft rise and fall of her chest.

“You’re beautiful, you know that?” Harry whispered, his voice low and soft, his breath tickling her ear.

Y/N turned her head slightly, meeting his gaze with a soft smile and cheeks already flushed because of wine, changed into a deeper shade of red at his words. “You always say that.” Slurred her words lightly. 

“Because it’s true,” he murmured, leaning in closer, their faces just inches apart. His fingers gently tugging at her bottom lip, eyes flickering to her mouth. “And I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of telling you that.” 

For a moment, neither of them moved, the air between them thick with unspoken words and emotions. Y/N felt her heart race as Harry’s eyes locked onto hers, filled with something deeper than just affection.

Slowly, almost hesitantly, Y/N tilted her head, her lips brushing against Harry’s in the softest kiss, testing the waters. It was brief- just a featherlight kiss- but enough to send a shockwave through him. Harry let out a quiet sigh, his hand moving to cup her face as he deepened the kiss, slow and tender. As he leaned in closer, Y/N gently pushed his glasses up onto his forehead, making it easier for them to get lost in each other. Suddenly, he realized what he had done.

Harry pulled back immediately, his eyes wide with surprise at his own action.

“Sorry,” he blurted out, his voice panicked. “I don’t know why I did that.”

Y/N blinked, her cheeks flushing, but there was no trace of anger or discomfort on her face. Instead, she smiled softly, a warmth blooming in her chest at his sudden vulnerability. “No, Harry… It’s okay.”

Harry’s brow furrowed. “Are you sure? I didn’t mean—”

“Harry,” Y/N interrupted gently, her voice barely a whisper as she moved closer, her hand resting on his cheek. “It’s okay, I want this, I promise.”

Harry couldn’t quite grasp what was happening—it all felt too surreal, like something straight out of his dreams. Yet, here it was, playing out in real time. In the blink of an eye, Y/N tossed the blanket aside and straddled his lap. Her hands slid up his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin through his shirt as she pressed closer to him, wanting to be as near as possible. Her fingers trailed up his chest, feeling the heat radiating through his shirt, before cradling his face. Without hesitation, she pulled him into a deep kiss.

Harry was still trying to make sense of it all, but instinctively, his hands found their place—one tangling in her hair, the other resting gently on her neck.

The kiss was slow, tender, and filled with all the emotions that had been simmering under the surface for so long. His lips were soft, and she could taste the faint hint of wine on them. Their lips molded perfectly, like it was meant to be. Time seemed to blur. It must have been five minutes, or five hours; neither of them knew. It was a heated blend of tongue, teeth, and lips. 

Y/N’s hand reached for the hem of his shirt, lifting it. Harry pulled back, catching his breath, resting his forehead against hers. His heart pounded, blood rushing south; he was so hard, making him ache beneath her. 

“Can I take off your top, baby?” He whispered, his breath warm against her jaw as he kissed and nipped at it.

“Yes, yes, please,” she murmured, and that was all the permission Harry needed. He swiftly pulled off her shirt—his shirt—and eagerly ran his hands over her smooth, soft skin. 

“So soft, your skin is so soft,” he murmured, his hands working behind her, unclasping her bra. 

Her tits were a piece of art—Round, so full and perfectly perky. His large hands cup them, gently rolling the nipple between his fingers. 

Now she sat only straddling him in her thin, barely there sleeping shorts; she could feel his hard cock beneath her, thick and throbbing, nudging her entrance. Her dampness was seeping through both of their shorts. A delicious remainder, how much she wanted him. He could feel her cunt fluttering around nothing, desperate for him. 

 Harry had to shut his eyes and  take  a few steady breaths as his chest rose and fell with anticipation. Slowly, he leaned forward, prepping light kisses along the curve of her breast. Y/N moaned softly, arching her back, giving him more access to her boobs. He latched onto her nipple, sucking lightly, while his free hand teased her other breast, tugging and rolling the sensitive nub. Y/N hips began to move instinctively, grinding against him, writhing on his cock couldn’t help but start grinding, writhing on his lap.  

"Feels good," she murmured, eyes closed as  she gently took his glasses from his head and placed them on the couch next to them, her fingers threaded through his messy curls. His cock twitched beneath her, nudging her clit, and she could feel her body growing even wetter, soaking through the fabric that separated them. Harry kept switching between her breasts, his mouth worshipping each one as he sucked harder, sending jolts of pleasure through her core.

Making her more drenched 

“Just like that, ride me Y/N” Harry growled, his voice low and demanding. His hands slid from her breast to her waist, guiding her movements. Making her move forward and backward, her clothed, dripping core dragged across his cock, making them both shiver with need. His tattoos peeked through as he finally tugged his shirt off, revealing his inked chest - abs flexing under the butterfly, the black ink stark against his flushed, heated skin.

Y/N's fingers trailed down, dragging her nails across his chest, loving the way his tattoos twisted beneath her touch. She leaned down, biting his neck, sucking hard enough to leave a bruise. Harry groaned, loving the possessiveness of it—her mark on him. He was hers. 

“You’re doing so good, Angel” he murmured, nipping her ear. Harry was a complete mess beneath her. His eyes glossy, pupils blown away with lust, hair sticking to his sweaty forehead, lips slick and swollen from their kisses. He looks so sexy, Y/N leaned forward, sucking his bottom lip into her mouth, swallowing each other’s  moans while increasing her pace. 

He could not believe Y/N was on top of him, grinding against his cock, her sweet little moans filling the air. He was sure he’d reached heaven. He glanced down between them, seeing the wet patch her arousal had left on his shorts, mixed with his own pre cum. 

As Y/N ground herself against him, her clit dragged over the thick length of his cock, and each upward motion had his tip grazing her entrance. The feeling made them both shiver. Her blunt nails dug into his shoulders as her eyes squeezed shut in bliss, her lip caught between her teeth, trying to hold back a whimper. 

Harry slid his hand down, rubbing her clit with his thumb in slow, tight circles, giving her that extra bit of pleasure she craved. “I want you to feel good, baby,” he whispered, his fingers working faster, determined to push her over the edge. His angel deserved to feel good. 

Y/N threw her head back, overwhelmed by the sensation. “I’m gonna cum,” she whimpered meekly, her voice shaking. Harry quickened his pace, his fingers pressing into her clit with just the right amount of pressure. “Cum for me, baby,” he urged, his voice thick and desperate.

Y/N cries out as her orgasm rips through her, the coil in her belly finally exploding, sending waves of pleasure through her entire body. She felt like she was floating—fireworks and butterflies all at once. 

She has never cum so hard in her life. Her fingers never did the job, and vibrators were too boring for her. 

Below her, she feels Harry twitching. He buries  his face in her neck, biting down a patch of her skin to stifle his own moan as he reached the brink. Both arms wrapped around her waist, his eyes shut, loud and desperate whimpers falling from his lips. 

“That’s it, honey,” Y/N cooed, her voice soft and soothing, threading her fingers through his damp curls as she continued to ride him. She could feel him shaking beneath her as his orgasm finally hit, releasing with a loud groan as his body went rigid. His vision blurred, ears ringing, as the bliss overwhelmed him completely. He felt like he was in paradise, his body melting into hers.

For a moment, they just stayed like that—foreheads pressed together, hearts beating in sync, both of them coming down from their highs. Still trying to make sense of what just happened. Harry let out a breathy laugh, looking for his glasses and placing them again on his face. He brushed a strand of hair from her face. “You’re amazing,” he whispered, still catching his breath.

Y/N smiled down at him, her fingers tracing the tattoos on his chest, loving how warm he felt under her touch. “And you’re a mess,” she teased softly, laughing with him. Harry grinned, pulling her closer.

"Yeah, but I’m your mess," he murmured, kissing her softly, the intimacy between them palpable.

They stayed like that, in each other’s arms, exchanging gentle kisses. “I want this with you, Y/N” Harry whispered, “I’m tired of pretending I don’t feel something for you. That I don’t feel this whenever I’m around you.”

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat, her eyes widening as his words hit her. She opened her mouth to respond, but no sound came out.

Harry pressed on, the confession spilling out of him like a flood. “I’ve been holding back because I didn’t want to ruin us. You’re my best friend, Y/N. The most important person in my life, and I was terrified of messing that up. But tonight... it just felt right. It always felt right with you.” 

The air hung heavy between them, the weight of his confession pulling her down, making her chest tighten. Y/N swallowed hard, her mind racing. She had always felt something too—always pushed it aside, too afraid of what it would mean for them and for their friendship. But now that it was out there, she couldn’t run from it anymore.

Harry’s eyes softened behind his glasses,  his heart racing a mile a minute. He had finally said it—the words he never thought he’d be able to voice, yet they spilled out of him because he couldn’t hold them in any longer. He had to tell Y/N everything. 

But he still didn’t know if she felt the same, if she liked—no, loved—him back. And though the thought of her rejecting him terrified him, he was ready for it. His heart would shatter into a million pieces, but he would respect her decision, even if it meant she wanted him out of her life completely. It would hurt—of course, it would—but the idea of staying by her side and making her uncomfortable hurt even more.

He braced himself for her response, never expecting what she would say next.

 “I love you, Harry. I think I’ve loved you for a long time... but I was too much of a coward to confess it,” Y/N murmured, her eyes glistening with tears. “All this time, I didn’t want to lose you, so I just... ignored it. But tonight? It meant everything. I want this with you too.”

She leaned forward, wrapping her arms around him, resting her head on his chest. She could hear his heart pounding beneath her ear. 

“I always thought you had a thing for Emma from our sociology class,” Y/N added with a teary giggle, realizing how silly it sounded now.

Harry’s brows furrowed in confusion. Emma? He had never thought of her as more than a classmate. His friends had mentioned once or twice that Emma might have a crush on him, but he’d never taken it seriously. His focus had always been on Y/N.

Before he could explain, Y/N cut him off. “But now I get it—you don’t like her. It was probably just my insecurities talking,” she said softly, her eyes dropping to her lap as she fidgeted with her fingers, a nervous habit of hers.

“Baby, Y/N, look at me,” Harry gently commanded. “I had no idea you were worrying about all of this. Emma? I’ve probably spoken to her five times at most, and I don’t like her that way at all. You have nothing to be insecure about.” He cupped her jaw tenderly, his thumb brushing her cheek. “You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen, my angel. The only girl I love and care about.”

Harry's thumb continued to stroke Y/N's cheek gently, his eyes soft and unwavering as he held her gaze. “You’re everything to me, Y/N. I’ve never even thought about anyone else the way I think about you. It’s always been you.”

Her breath hitched at his words, the insecurity that had weighed her down for so long now starting to lift. She opened her mouth to say something, but Harry wasn’t finished. His other hand slid down to cradle her waist, pulling her more closer if that was possible. They were basically molded together. 

“I love the way you say my name; I love how you play with my rings whenever you get nervous; I love the way you get excited over little things; I love the way you get grumpy whenever you are hungry; I love the way you look at me when you think I am not paying attention. And I love you; don’t ever want you to doubt that, okay?” 

Y/N felt warmth flood her chest as his words washed over her. She’d spent so long overthinking everything, never realizing that Harry had been feeling the same all along.

She blinked back the last of her tears, smiling up at him. “I don’t know why I thought otherwise,” she whispered, her voice shaky but full of emotion.

Harry pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, his lips lingering there. “Because you care so much,” he murmured against her skin. “And that’s one of the things I love about you.”

Y/N leaned into his embrace, feeling safe and cherished in his arms. the tension in her body melting away.

Harry resting his chin on the top of her head. “But now, no more hiding, yeah? No more overthinking or doubting. It’s just us now. I’m yours, and I’ve always been.”

Y/N tilted her head back to look at him, her smile widening as her fingers laced through his. “Just us,” she repeated softly.

Harry’s heart swelled as he brought her hand to his lips, kissing her knuckles softly. “Just us,” he echoed, his voice a gentle promise.

[incognit0slut]

On camera

PART 4 OF KINKTOBER | MAIN MASTERLIST

Roommate!Spencer x Camgirl!Reader Spencer requests to take on a more involved role in one of your live streams.

content: (18+) 4k, exhibitionism/voyeur, reader wears lingerie, unprotected penetrative sex, creampie, overstimulation (surprisingly it’s him for once), and a hint of cockwarming at the end a/n: this is the second part to a special show although you don't necessarily have to read it to understand what’s happening. this took a while because… there was a little pressure? i didn’t expect people to wait on this i hope it lives up to the expectations, let me know what you think my cuties<3

You nudged your foot against his. “We don’t have to do this, you know. I don’t mind.”

“I’m fine."

"Are you sure? You've been quiet ever since you sat down."

He felt the words knot up in his throat. The quiet wasn’t hesitation, it was disbelief. The kind that lingered in the gap between what he imagined and what was happening. The lack of conviction that defied logic, even when he was the one who initiated to exist beyond just a pair of hands at the edges of the frame.

"Spence?”

He glanced at you. Deep pools of brown drowning in lust swept over the piece of lingerie you decided to put on tonight. Even without much fashion sense, Spencer could appreciate the soft frills of purple lace clinging to your figure. The garter belt wrapped snugly around your waist, leading down to thin straps that framed your smooth thighs, and every logical thought he tried to root out slipped away the longer he looked at you.

Wait. Purple?

Purple.

Although Spencer was sure it probably had a fancier, specific name that bordered on… lilac? Lavender? Or something else elusive he couldn’t quite pin down. To him it was just purple. He might not have the vocabulary to describe the exact shade, but he knew the way it looked on you was nothing short of captivating.

“You’re wearing purple.”

The frown creased between your brows as you tried to make sense of his sudden observation.

“I am.” Your lips formed a slight pout. “And you still haven’t answered my question.“

And he still couldn’t bring himself to answer.

“I thought you were supposed to be Princess Pink?”

The words left his mouth before he could stop them. It was true. Pink was your color. The soft, playful blush had always been part of your alter ego. You shifted on your feet, glancing down at the purple lace hugging your hips before meeting his eyes again. A small, hesitant smile tugged at the corners of your lips, and for a moment, you looked almost… shy.

“Well, yeah,” you admitted, your voice so soft it dipped into a tone he wasn’t used to hearing from you. Your fingers traced the edge of the fabric absently, and you glanced away again as if finding the floor more interesting.

“I thought maybe… it might help, you know? Calm your nerves or something.” The nervous laugh creeping out of you sounded strained. “I know you like purple… so I figured…”

The corner of his lips curled upwards. His smile reminded you of the times he caught you off guard with a look that was equally amused and deeply affectionate as if he couldn’t believe his luck.

“You wore it for me?”

You felt warmth rise to your neck but decided there was no point in hiding it. “I thought it might make this less scary for you.”

His smile faltered. “I’m not scared.”

“Spencer, you’re about to get naked.”

“You’ve seen me naked before.”

You couldn’t help but let out an amused laugh. He stated it so plainly with no hint of self-consciousness or hesitation. And technically, he was right. You had seen him completely, wholly bare more times than you could count by now ever since that first night you stripped away his innocence.

You still remembered how you had pulled him across the line from a curious roommate to someone who wanted to know every inch of your body. And that night turned into another, and then another, until what you were doing stopped being about one-off hookups and started blurring the boundaries you’d drawn between friendship and something more. Something you couldn't quite put your finger on that felt heavier than lust but not quite defined as love.

Spencer was a roommate, a friend, a lover, and eventually, an active participant in your live streams.

His hands were, at least.

You took a step forward, slipping between his legs where he sat comfortably at the edge of your bed. “I have seen you naked,” you agreed, “but they haven’t.”

His hands hovered at your waist, fingers twitching over your lace as if he wasn’t sure where to put them. He glanced up at you, his gaze flickering between your eyes and your lips before he finally admitted, “Okay… maybe I am a little nervous.”

“I know, but you don’t need to be. Think of it this way, the people who are going to see us will only be jealous of you.”

“Why would they be jealous of me?”

“Because you’re the one who gets to be with me.” You reached up to brush his hair back from his face, tucking those long, unruly strands behind his ear. “They’re in their rooms jerking off to a screen while you get to kiss me.”

A kiss fell on his lips.

“Touch me.”

Another peck.

“And fuck me.”

He chased your lips this time, his mouth puckering before he closed the gap. His words were muffled against you, “I am pretty lucky.”

“The luckiest,” you mumbled back. A soft smack of a kiss lingered in the air when you pulled away. “And you don’t have to worry, once we get started, you’ll be too distracted to remember what you were even nervous about.”

He hummed, the sound deep and rumbling in his chest as his grip on your waist tightened. “I think you might be right.”

“Good.” You moved to the side of the bed. “Now let me set up the camera.”

The tripod attached to the top of your computer screen wobbled slightly as you fiddled with it, adjusting the device until the lens angled down. You observed the setup, making sure it captured your body and the way Spencer’s hand rested on your waist without revealing either of your faces.

Perfect.

“You ready?”

Surprisingly, he was.

With a slight nod from him, you turned on the live stream.

Princess_Pink is online.

Spencer’s eyes widened as the chat erupted in a flurry of notifications, messages pouring in so rapidly they blurred into an endless stream of words.

“That’s a lot of people," he muttered under his breath.

“That’s the usual amount of people.”

“No, it’s not,” he countered. “I can’t even keep up with the chat.” Which was saying a lot. For someone who could read entire pages of text in mere seconds, this was overwhelming in a way he hadn’t anticipated.

“Don’t let them intimidate you.” You turned around and slipped between his legs again, feeling the way his knees instinctively parted to make space. “Just focus on me.”

Spencer barely managed to nod before your lips met his again, and with that, everything else seemed to dissolve. He could never quite get used to how effortlessly you could unravel him with just a kiss. His hands slid up the back of your thigh, the rough pads of his fingers brushing over your skin as they trembled slightly, grazing the delicate strap of your garter before settling firmly on your ass.

A surprised giggle bubbled out of you.

“Easy there,” you murmured, catching his bottom lip gently between your teeth before letting it go with a playful tug. “I have to greet them first.”

He reluctantly loosened his grip, letting his fingers linger on you for a final moment before slipping away to rest at his sides. His eyes remained fixed on you as you turned away, shifting your focus back to the screen and reaching over to the mic.

A faint hum filled the room as it came to life. Spencer could feel his breaths gradually falling into sync before your sweet voice cut through the silence like honey.

“Hi, boys,” you purred, letting the greeting roll off your tongue. “Did you miss me?"

Princess.no1.fan: Princess!!! JadenCums: we missed those tits Adam_4432: fucking hot as always Adam_4432: purple looks good on you Crazydick: who's the skinny loser at the back

You rolled your eyes as the comment popped up in the chat.

“This is getting old,” you said with a sigh, fingers hovering over the mouse. “You’re all obsessed with him.”

With a quick flick of your wrist, you blocked the troll and watched with satisfaction as his name disappeared from the list. Spencer tried to peek over your shoulder. “What did they say?”

“Nothing important,” you replied lightly, brushing it off as you turned back to the mic. "Didn’t I tell you guys to play nice?”

Princess.no1.fan: i always play nice with you JadenCums: they’re just jealous of your boy toy Adam_4432: ignore the haters, babe BigBoss88: let him stay in the background ThickNick: you're gorgeous princess

“Remember, if you can’t behave, you don’t get to stay. And I don’t think any of you want to miss out on what we've prepared."

That was his cue, right? He forced down the tightness in his throat, the sensation catching and shifting like a dry click as his pulse quickened. With a quiet exhale, he slipped off the edge of the bed and made his way behind you.

There was a moment of hesitation. But his doubt faded into the background as he focused on the curve of your waist beneath his fingers. He let his hands move slowly, tracing upward with a touch that lingered at the dip of your spine until his fingers brushed the delicate lace of your bra.

Wide hands covered the soft swell of your breasts.

Princess.no1.fan sent a $50 gift.

“See?” you breathed, pressing your back against him. “You play nice, you get to enjoy the show.”

He couldn’t help but squeeze your flesh, fingers sinking in and then pulling back, the skin dimpling under the pressure before slowly springing back. His veins looked prominent, winding up his forearm like delicate, raised lines that caught the light on camera every time he moved over the fabric of your bra.

And the lace offered the thinnest barrier. He could feel the way your nipple firmed underneath his touch, straining subtly as if it, too, was reaching out for more. He traced small, lazy circles around it, and when you arched into him, he had to bite back a smile. He pressed a kiss on your shoulder instead.

“You’re so good at this,” you muttered, letting your hand drift up to the back of his head, fingers threading through his hair.

He let out a quiet hum of acknowledgment, his fingers hooking under the edge of your bra’s cup before pulling it down. Your breasts bounced slightly, settling naturally in his palm as the lace slipped away.

“I’ve had a lot of practice.”

A soft moan escaped you as he began to explore, and Spencer couldn’t help the surge of satisfaction that followed. He was rougher than he intended to be at times, testing the line between what made you shiver and what made you push back for more. It was the way he rolled both of your nipples between his fingers, alternating between gentle pinches and firmer twists, that finally drew the most telling reaction—a subtle, instinctive rub of your ass against him.

He took it as a sign to touch you further, one hand drifting lower while the other stayed firmly in place. Goosebumps prickled over your skin as he slid down your stomach until he reached the edge of your panties. His fingers skimmed along the waistband, and you could feel his breath coming in quick, shallow bursts as he brushed his knuckles underneath the delicate material, hesitating.

Adam_4432 sent you a $100 gift.

That was enough to break through his hesitation. Without a word, he slipped his fingers beneath the lace.

The heat between your thighs greeted him, and there was no mistaking what that meant. You were wet, so wet that his fingers glided over your folds like silk. He couldn’t help but feel a flicker of smugness as each subtle shift seemed to draw a new sound from your lips.

He let his fingers slide lower, searching, and when he finally found your clit, brushing his fingertips lightly over it, you jerked in his arms. The tiny, sensitive nub was swollen and begging for attention as it pulsed under his touch like a racing heartbeat. He gave gentle rubs. Slow circles. Steady pressure. The more he explored, the more your arousal smeared against his fingertips.

“Oh—you’re gonna make me cum so fast,” you gasped. You threw your head back against his shoulder, letting out a whine you knew would drive your viewers wild. “What do you think, boys? Should he make me cum now?”

The chat lit up instantly, flooded with messages begging you to let go, but between the rapid scroll of usernames and flashing emojis, one message caught your eye.

Looking4Sluts: no Looking4Sluts: cum on his cock Looking4Sluts sent you a $200 gift.

The notification flashed across the screen, and you felt a surge of adrenaline, a wicked smile playing on your lips. “Do you see that, baby?”

He nodded against your neck.

“They want more of you,” you purred, letting your hips roll back against him, pressing yourself closer to his obvious erection. “They want to see just how good you make me feel.”

Your words went straight to his cock. His touch suddenly changed as he began to move faster against your clit, and a choked gasp spilled from your lips. But just as the pressure started to build rapidly, you quickly grabbed his wrist, pulling his hand from your panties.

“No, not yet,” you stopped him, turning your head to catch his ear, your lips brushing against the shell. “Wanna cum on your cock.”

He watched as you reached down and slowly hooked your fingers into the sides of your panties, sliding them down your legs. A thin string of your arousal followed as you lowered the fabric, clinging to the lace before it finally broke and left a glistening trail against your thigh.

His balls tightened painfully.

Princess.no1.fan: Holy shit, that’s so fucking hot JadenCums: fisting my cock so hard Fatcock_777: wreck that damn pussy PussyLover69: i bet she’s fucking tight Looking4Sluts: jesus christ, she’s dripping

Spencer’s mind emptied the moment you leaned forward, planting your palms firmly on the desk for balance. The way your body arched made his pulse stutter, a surge of heat rushing through him so quickly it almost left him lightheaded.

“Like… this? Standing?”

You glanced back at him over your shoulder. “Exactly like this.”

He could barely think straight. His hands moved on their own, one sliding over your hips, gripping you firmly, while the other fumbled with his waistband, desperately tugging his pants down. The fabric slid down over his thighs, and he bit back a groan as his cock sprang free, hard and aching, pressing against the bare skin of your ass.

He could feel the heat of you against him, and it took every ounce of self-control to keep himself from sinking into you all at once. He pressed in closer, feeling the steady thrum of his pulse echoing in the ache between you both as the tip of his cock settled right where your folds parted. He rocked his hips in shallow motions.

“Baby…” You tilted your hips just enough to align with him, “no teasing."

But hearing those words only made him want to draw it out even more. He let his bulging head nudge at your hole, barely dipping in before pulling back, feeling the way you instinctively pressed against him.

"Spe—" you faltered, then groaned. "Stop it."

He couldn’t help but smile as his fingers found the straps of your garter belt. He tugged on one gently, watching the elastic snap back against your skin. "But you look so pretty."

"I'll look prettier with your cock inside me."

That did it. With one last shaky exhale, Spencer gripped your hips firmly and began to sink himself into you, feeling the tight, warm stretch of your cunt.

“Oh my god,” you gasped. He felt a slight resistance as your body adjusted to him. He carefully gave a few gentle thrusts, easing in and out just enough for you to relax.

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His eyes flickered to that last comment, and something inside him shifted, like a switch flipping. Without another thought, without any lingering trace of hesitation, he tightened his grip on your hips and pushed in all at once.

Your moan tore through the air. So. Fucking. Loud.

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The notification flashed across the screen, but Spencer barely registered it, his control was slipping further away as his hips moved on their own. He started to grind into you, eyes traveling to your connected bodies. You were practically swallowing his cock, clenching so tightly around him that he felt like you were pulling him deeper, refusing to let him go.

In a way, you did beg for it. Each time you met his thrusts with an eager roll of your hips, the sound of skin slapping together echoed around you. He would have thought he’d be shy doing this in front of so many watchful eyes, but the way you moved against him made it impossible to care.

It only made him bolder. He let his hand slide up your back, fingers fumbling slightly with the clasp of your bra before he unhooked it. The straps slipped down your shoulders, sliding down your arms, and then you were completely, utterly naked, except for the garter hugging your thighs.

You were so pretty like this, so incredibly beautiful it made his pulse stutter in his veins. You were so pretty that it was almost disorienting, as if looking at you too long might make him forget where he was. And in his mind, all the lofty notions of beauty and art seemed to fall flat compared to seeing you like this. He needed to see all of you.

A startled whimper left your lips when he suddenly pulled out.

“Can you angle the camera down?"

There was a knowing look in your eyes. Your fingers moved to adjust the tripod, and he wasted no time stripping himself. By the time you were done angling the camera, he was already sitting on the edge of your bed, his cock throbbing against his stomach.

He looked painfully hard. Hard enough that every heartbeat seemed to pulse visibly along his length. You crawled onto his lap.

“Hi.”

His palm found the curve of your hip. "Hi."

“Are you okay?”

He nodded, his fingers tightening around the base of his cock as he urged you to lift your hips. “I think I’m starting to understand why you do this.”

“Yeah?”

"Mhm.” He nudged his tip between your folds. “It’s kind of exciting.”

You let out a soft, breathy laugh, fingers curling into his shoulder for balance as you began to lower yourself. “See? Nothing to be nervous about.”

A deep groan escaped his lips the moment your walls tightened around him. “You make this seem easy.”

“Maybe you’re just a natural.”

He gave a low chuckle, but it caught in his throat when he felt the full length of his cock buried inside you. “I… ah… I think you’re the one making me look good.”

“Shut up,” you replied with a grin, burying your face in the crook of his neck. “You don’t need any help looking good right now, trust me.”

Spencer wasn’t entirely sure what to think about that. He’d never seen himself like this, not in the way you did. But when he glanced over your shoulder, catching a glimpse of the screen and the way your hips rolled over him, he started to believe it.

He looked like… well, like the porn he’d watched late at night in his room before you came along. But better. The kind that didn’t seem real, the kind that made him question if anyone actually had sex like that. He knew the vast majority of what’s portrayed in porn is exaggerated with only a small percentage even close to reality. Except this was real. It was really him, and you made it look like he knew what he was doing.

And sure, maybe he did in some way, albeit you being his only real experience. But that was the thing—he knew what made you tick. He could read the way your body reacted, knew the subtle cues that signaled when a whisper of his fingers could coax out a whimper or when the right shift of his hips would leave you trembling. And more than anything else, he knew how much you liked being watched.

He knew just how much it turned you on.

With that thought in mind, Spencer grabbed the firm swell of your ass and spread you open.

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Your body squirmed beneath his hands.

“Babe… what are you doing?”

He ran his tongue over his lips. “Giving them what they want.”

Then he spread your flesh even further, fingers digging into your supple skin as he held you open. The sight was undeniably lewd, and yet he couldn’t deny the surge of pride swelling in his chest as he held you like this, putting you on full display. But more than that, it was what you wanted. The tension coiled in his muscles as he thrust his hips up, watching the movement play out in the reflection over his shoulder.

He could see everything. The slow drag of his cock, the way it stretched you open with each push, leaving no inch of you untouched. Every time he thrust up into you, his length came back slick and shining, catching the light for a split second before disappearing inside you again.

There was something hypnotic in the rhythm, in the way your body seemed to swallow him whole. And somewhere in that steady push and pull, you visibly clenched around him, a vice-like grip that sent a shudder through his body and pulled a deep, harsh groan from his throat.

His hands tightened their grip on you, and before he could think twice, his hips began moving faster. You squealed, an actual high-pitched sound that he hadn’t expected. It was almost cute in a way—if cute was even the right word for what was happening. But there was nothing cute about the way his body reacted to that sound.

His hips bucked upward, again and again by an instinct he couldn’t control. He was so lost in the sensation of your warm, slick pussy that he barely registered the rising tension in his own body. It wasn’t until his muscles locked up, his hips jerking with one final, forceful snap, that it all crashed over him.

Oh shit.

A sudden rush of heat coursed through him as he spilled inside you, the realization hitting him a second too late. His breath came in shallow gasps, a deep groan escaping his throat as pleasure overwhelmed him, leaving him stunned and gasping for air.

You paused, feeling the unmistakable warmth of his release slowly seep inside you. “Baby?”

His eyes widened. “I’m sorry,” he blurted, sliding his hands up your waist. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to—that was—”

Fast didn’t even come close to describing what happened.

You cut him off with a soft laugh, shaking your head as your fingers gently cupped his jaw. “Oh, honey,” you cooed. “There’s nothing to apologize for.”

His eyes flickered to the camera behind you. “I ruined everything, didn’t I?”

You followed his gaze, then turned back to him with a smile. “Of course not,” you said softly, threading your fingers through his hair. “You kind of made everything better, actually.”

His brows knitted together. “I did?”

You nodded and wrapped your arms around his shoulders.

“Do you know…”

You started to roll your hips again.

“How hot it is…”

A soft squelch filled the air.

“To fuck with your cum inside me?”

He could barely comprehend the words that had just left your mouth, let alone the feeling of you moving against him. His eyelids struggled to stay open, the question catching in his throat before it spilled out in a breathy whisper. “Hot?”

“Insanely hot.”

Spencer couldn’t describe what happened after that. Obscene didn’t even begin to cover it. Surreal, maybe? But even that word felt lacking. It was all too real. You were rocking your hips on his lap, and the wet, sticky sounds filling the room were undeniably his own doing.

He held your hips tighter, half in an effort to steady himself, half because he didn’t know what else to do. The words were gone. Logic was gone. The only thing that existed was you, grinding against him with the same intensity that had already undone him once.

And he knew he was going to lose it again.

You leaned forward, your forehead pressing gently against his. “Spence, baby,” you whispered, making sure your voice was soft, just loud enough that only he could hear. “Can you fuck me again?”

He couldn’t say no even if he tried. His hands slipped beneath your thighs, fingers curling with just enough force to lift you, tilting your hips for better leverage. The shift pulled a startled gasp from you and you clung to him for balance, but he didn’t give you a moment to catch your breath. His hips met yours in a swift, demanding snap.

The sound of your body meeting was unmistakable, a rhythmic slap that would’ve made him blush if he were in any state to think clearly. But right now, all he could focus on was the mess he’d made of you, the way his cum seeped out, sliding down his cock in slow drips. Whenever he thrust into you, there seemed to be more spilling out, leaving thick, creamy streaks painted across your inner thighs.

Spencer had messy sex before (all with you, of course) but this was on a whole different level. It was chaotic—unapologetically filthy. The wetness between you spread everywhere. He could feel it pooling against his thighs, trickling down your legs, and the damp sheets beneath you were clinging uncomfortably to his knees while the heady scent of sex hit his nostrils.

And your voice wasn’t helping his self-control. It was high-pitched with a tremor, somewhere between a moan and a desperate whine tumbling out in a jumble of words that barely made any sense. Your voice grew higher each minute, more frantic, until finally, he could make out a few clear words through the haze.

“Gonna c-cum,” you moaned, “I’m gonna cu—ah fuck yesyesyes—”

A final, helpless cry pushed him over the edge.

He came for the second time tonight. He tried to hold back, but the way you were clenching around him, your body pulsing through your sudden orgasm tore down what little control he had left. He groaned, burying his face in your neck as his release overtook him again, shocked that he still had anything left to give as he emptied inside you.

The intensity bordered on painful. He could feel his body pushing to its limits and every pulse of pleasure felt like it was wringing him dry. And it was no less intense for you. You jerked against him, body twitching, sweat beading on your skin. Your muscles tightened and relaxed with the rhythm of his racing heartbeat as the last spark of pleasure finally washed over you.

Neither of you moved for a while after that. The only sound in the room was your labored breathing, the heavy rise and fall of your chests pressed together.

You were the first to break the silence.

“Baby,” you hummed, a soft, breathless laugh escaping your lips, “I think that might’ve been the hottest stream we’ve ever done.”

It took a second for your words to sink in, and when they did, his eyes widened slightly. The camera was still on. The audience was still there. His nose pressed harder against your neck as he tried to hide in embarrassment.

“Really? You’re getting shy now?“

His soft groan vibrated against your skin. “I wasn’t exactly thinking about the camera,” he mumbled, his voice muffled against your neck. “It left my mind the moment I… you know.”

You smiled, brushing your fingers through his hair. “Oh, I know. I could tell.”

You started to peel yourself off of him, only for his arms to tighten around your waist. You gave a playful tap on his shoulder.

“What are you doing?”

“Holding you.”

“Why?”

“My brain needs a moment to process this.”

Your hand danced aimlessly across his back. “Still embarrassed?”

“Mortified,” he confirmed.

A giggle slipped out of you, and you wiggled your hips. “We still need to clean up. I don’t think you want to stay like this forever.”

He let out a sound of protest but didn’t loosen his grip. “Just a few more minutes.”

Smiling at his stubbornness, you slid your fingers into his hair, letting your nails scrape lightly against his scalp. "Spencer," you said gently, making sure the mic didn't pick up your voice. “I need to turn off the cam.”

"They wouldn't mind watching us a little longer."

You sighed, feeling the undeniable stickiness between your thighs. It wasn’t the most comfortable feeling, and the warmth was quickly turning into a mess that would need attention sooner rather than later. But there was something so sweet about the way he wanted to hold you that it made it impossible to resist.

"Fine," you relented with a quiet laugh, "five more minutes."