#still can BARELY GET THROUGH A CONVERSATION

[flemingology]

drunk on you ─ alexia putellas x reader

in which: alcohol makes your girlfriend lose her inhibitions. but not her ability to make you feel so, so good

warnings: mentions of alcohol consumption, grinding (dancing), language, smut (18+), strap (R receiving)

wc: 4.8k

an: save me drunk, messy and eager alexia save me. thank you for the request! hope you enjoy :)

Alexia’s at the annual end-of-season party with her teammates. The venue is a chic upscale rooftop bar overlooking the glistering city lights. It’s been rented out exclusively for the team, a night to celebrate another successful season and finally blow off some steam.

The atmosphere is vibrant, fairy lights and lanterns string across the space, casting a warm golden glow. Alexia stands by the bar with her usual calm, collected demeanor, though internally, she’s anything but. She can’t wait to get the night started, to lose some of her inhibitions that she clung to tightly during the season. She’s already had a drink, a glass of white, and is nursing a second more to keep her hands busy than anything.

She knows you’re coming. You texted her earlier saying you got held back a little at work, finishing up some meetings here and there, but ever since you texted her you were on your way, she’s been hyper aware of every moment ticking by. She missed you. She always misses you throughout the season. Not physically, of course, because you spend every moment of every day together. But Alexia always feels like her busy schedule forms a barrier between the two of you, as much as you both try your best to work around it. Now, with the prospect of a couple weeks off, and especially a fun night ahead, she can barely control herself.

When you finally arrive, the vibe shifts. Alexia noticed you the second you walk in, abandoning her conversation with Patri almost immediately, much to the dismay of the midfielder. Her gaze locks on to you, and her breath catches slightly at the sight. You’re wearing a black dress that hugs your figure just right, confidence radiating as you weave through the crowd. It’s moments like these that Alexia still has to pinch herself. You were hers, all hers, but sometimes she couldn’t quite believe that.

Her mouth quirks into a small smile, but her eyes already darken with desire. She feels her pulse quicken, and tightens her grip on the glass slightly. Internally, she’s already scheming how to get you alone, but for now, she stays composed as she watches you greet new and familiar faces before you eventually reach her.

As you make your way toward her, Alexia straightens up, setting her glass down on the bar. She doesn’t say anything at first, just takes a step closer and weaves her hands around your waist as if it’s where they’ve always belonged. “You made it.” Her voice is quiet, a mixture of relief and attention lacing her tone. Her fingers press gently into your sides as she pulls you closer, her forehead resting against yours. The world around you fades for a moment as Alexia tilts her head slightly, and her lips brush against yours in a slow and deliberate kiss. When she pulls back, her thumb lightly strokes your hip through the fabric of the dress. “How was your day?” “Better now,” you laugh, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Mine too.” She kisses you again then, a little firmer, but still unhurried. Just a silent reminder of how much she missed you throughout the day, even only after a short time apart.

It’s grounding, for Alexia. After a full day of meetings and training, her mind being pulled in different directions, having you there at the end of the day centers her. She feels the tension in her shoulders begin to fade, a warmth spreading through her chest that only you seem to bring out.

The party is in full swing, the venue feeling alive with music, laughter and the hum of conversations that ripple across the room. For a while, you and Alexia stick together, her hand occasionally finding the small of your back as you both engage with teammates, coaches and friends. You share a drink, clinking glasses with knowing smiles before being pulled into separate conversations.

At first, you keep Alexia in your peripheral vision. There’s something enticing about how she speaks animatedly to her teammates, her expressions more open and carefree than usual. Her laughter rings out above the chatter, a hearty sound that makes your heart flutter. It’s rare to see her this untroubled. During the season, she keeps herself to very strict standards, so you love seeing her thrive in environments like these. It doesn’t happen often, but when it happens, you can’t help but admire the way she lets loose.

You find yourself swept into conversations of your own, chatting with familiar faces and even a few new ones. Still, there’s an undeniable magnetism between you and Alexia. Every so often, your paths cross and she’ll slip her hand around your waist, leaning in to ask if you need another drink or if you’re enjoying yourself.

“Having fun, cariño?” She asks, her breath warm against your ear as she stands close. “Not more than you, apparently,” you tease, gesturing to the drink in her hand that should’ve been her fourth or fifth. She grins, playful and unbothered, and you’d give the world to have seen it plastered on her face a little longer. “I’m celebrating. Let me live a little.”

The party has escalated into a full-blown celebration. No more polite conversations and introductions to staff, the DJ has found his rhythm and the dance floor is pulsing with energy. People are laughing louder, dancing harder and drinks keep on flowing freely. You’ve slowed down on the alcohol, because someone has to drive you two home, and Alexia, it seems, has had more than enough for the both of you. You’re leaning against the bar, nursing a soda while watching on from a distance. She’s caught in a circle of teammates, all laughing and clapping as someone attempts a questionable dance move. Mapi, probably.

Her cheeks are flushed, her hair a little tousled, and she looks radiant in a way that makes your chest ache. She glances up and catches your gaze, a mischievous grin spreading across her face as she breaks away from the group and makes a beeline for you.

“You’re no fun over here,”’ she says, words slightly slurred and voice raised to compete with the music. She wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you closer. “Come dance with me.” “I’m fine right here, Ale.” You laugh, placing a hand on her arm to steady her. “I need to drive us home, remember?” She pouts dramatically, her bottom lip jutting out as her fingers tug lightly at your wrist. “One dance. Just one.”

And who are you to resist her when she looks at you like that, on one of the very few nights in the year where she gets to let loose? She pulls you onto the dance floor, her hands immediately finding your hips. The beat is fast, but Alexia, too drunk to really notice, doesn’t care about keeping rhythm. She’s clumsy, her movements loose, but it’s endearing. “See? You’re having fun!” Alexia says, her lips close to your ear as her fingers dig into your waist. “You’re impossible,” you reply, but you can’t help smiling as she spins you around playfully.

The music shifts then, into something with a deep, pulsing rhythm. The dance floor grows tighter, couples dancing together while others simply lose themselves in the music. Alexia pulls you closer, her hands firm on your waist, and she turns you around so your back is flush against her chest. She rests her head on your shoulder while swaying the two of you. “Ale, seriously,” you murmur, but your voice doesn’t carry the seriousness you wished it would. “We’re not exactly alone here.” You can feel her smirk against you. “No one’s paying attention. Look around.”

You glance around briefly, and sure enough, everyone seems engrossed in their own little worlds. Her hands tighten slightly on your hips, her voice taking on a teasing edge. “I’ve barely touched you all night. Let me have this.”

You had a retort ready, really, but then her grip shifts, her strong hands guiding your hips in time with the beat, and it dies in your throat. “Ale,” you say again, but it’s weaker this time, your protest faltering as her thumbs rub small circles into your waist.

You swallow hard, your resolve crumbling. Against your better judgment, you let yourself lean back into her, the tension in your body melting as the music takes over. You start to move with her, letting her guide you, her strong frame pressed against yours. Her hands drop slightly lower, resting just above your hips, and her grip tightens as your movements grow bolder. She groans softly, the sound nearly lost in the music but still enough to make your stomach flip.

“That’s it,” she whispers, her lips delicately brushing the curve of your jaw. “Just like that.” Her hands shift again, sliding dangerously close to areas that weren’t appropriate in this setting, and you grab her wrists, stopping her before she gets too bold. “Don’t push it,” you warn, though your breath hitches as she nuzzles into the crook of your neck. She chuckles, low and teasing. “I’m just warming you up for later.” Her comment makes your stomach flip, and it takes everything inside you not to lead her out of the crowd and home now.

As the song fades into another, you slowly pull back from your girlfriend, whose arms circle around your waist tighter in response. “Don’t go, cariño”, she murmurs into your neck. “Ale, I need a break, and you look like you could use some water.” You teasingly flick the tip of her nose, before softly pecking her lips a couple times and walking away. 

The hours slip by, and the party grows louder, messier. Alexia drifts through the crowd, moving from one group of teammates to the other, seemingly always a new drink in her hand whenever you catch her gaze. You try to give her a couple disapproving looks, but she acts like she doesn’t notice, and continues on with her celebrations. It’s when you see her at the bar for the second time in five minutes, you think it’s time to intervene. Her balance is off and she leans against the counter of the bar to steady herself. The bartender is pouring her another drink, but you step in before she can take it. “Okay, Ale, I think you’ve had enough for the night, hmm?” “Huh? Por qué? I’m fine!” You hum, the way she slurs her words telling you she’s anything but. “Let’s go home, amor.” You don’t expect her to comply immediately, but she doesn’t complain when you wrap her arm around your shoulders and carefully guide her through the bar and to the parking lot. 

The quiet of the night is a sharp contrast to the chaos of the party, and as you help Alexia into the car, you can feel her start to relax against you. She’s tipsy, her movements a little clumsy, but the way she laces her fingers with yours tells you she’s already thinking about what’s to come when you get home. The ride is filled with Alexia’s warm, slightly slurred murmurs against your neck. She keeps pressing fleeting kisses to your skin, her lips soft but uncoordinated. “You smell so good… I missed you tonight.” “Missed me? I was there all night, baby.”

She pulls back just enough to give you a half-hearted glare. “Not like that… you know what I mean.” Her hand slides up your thigh at that, delicately brushing her fingers over the exposed skin where your dress had ridden up a bit. Before it gets too high, though, you catch it and put it back in her own lap. “Save it for when we’re home, Putellas.”

-

The door clicks shut behind you as Alexia practically collapses into your side, her arm draped over your shoulders. Her steps are uneven, and her weight leans heavily on you, but the soft giggle that escapes her lips tells you she’s exhilarated. “You gonna help me with my shoes, or am I just supposed to struggle?” she teases, holding onto the wall for balance as she kicks one heel halfway off, then nearly topples forward. You laugh softly, reaching out to steady her by her waist. “At this rate, you’re going to break an ankle.”

Dropping to a crouch, you gently tug her heels off, your hands brushing against her bare ankles. Alexia watches you with an expression you can’t quite decipher, her fingers resting lightly on your shoulder to keep her balance. “There,” you say as you place her shoes by the door. “Gracias, mi ángel,” she murmurs, the pet name making your stomach flip.

As you both step further inside, Alexia’s fingers brush your arm, trailing down until she’s holding your hand. She tugs you toward the living room, but her movements are uncoordinated, and she nearly trips over the edge of the rug. “Careful,” you say, catching her again. “Maybe I had more to drink than I thought,” she admits, laughing as she pulls you closer. “You don’t say.”

The walk upstairs is a challenge. She almost falls more than once, needing to steady herself on the railing more than she’d like to admit. You’ve got a hand on the small of her back from behind, slightly pushing her forward. At the top of the stairs, she stops you, her fingers curling into the fabric of your dress. “Wait,” she says, her voice low. You look up at her, your brows furrowing. “What’s wrong?” “Nothing.” Her eyes drop to your lips, then back up to meet your gaze. “Just… kiss me.”

It’s not a question, and before you can respond, her lips smash against yours. There’s nothing soft about it, not tender, not deliberate, it’s all tongue and teeth. She manoeuvres the two of you towards the bedroom and it’s a miracle that you reach it without her bumping you both into something. Her hands are roaming across your body hurriedly, like she wants to make up for lost time.

“Alexia,” you murmur against her lips, your hands tangling in her hair. “Tell me,” she whispers, her breath warm against your skin. “Tell me you love me.” Your answer comes in the way you kiss her back, your fingers tugging at her shirt, desperate to feel her closer. Alexia groans softly, her lips moving to your jaw, then your neck, as she walks you backward toward the bed.

The back of your knees then hit the bed, and you sit down on the edge, Alexia pushing you further up the mattress. “You have no idea how much I’ve been thinking about this,” Alexia murmurs, her voice low and rough in your ear. Before you can respond, her hands slide under the hem of your dress, the coolness of her palms sending a shiver down your spine. She lifts the fabric slowly, deliberately, and you raise your arms to help her, the piece of clothing discarded somewhere behind her.

“You’re so beautiful,” she whispers, her eyes raking over you like she’s seeing you for the first time. Her fingers trail over your bare skin, leaving goosebumps. Her lips find yours again, this kiss deeper, hungrier, her teeth catching your bottom lip before she pulls away slightly. “Let me take care of you,” she says, her voice almost a plea. You nod, your hands tugging at her shirt in return. “Only if you lose this first.”

Alexia chuckles, reaching behind her to yank the shirt over her head. The movement is hurried, and the hem gets stuck for a moment, causing her to fumble. You can’t help but laugh, but the sound dies in your throat when her toned body is revealed, the intensity in her gaze making it impossible to focus on anything else. “Something funny?” she asks, a playful smirk plastered on her face. “Nothing,” you manage, your own voice unsteady. “Just... hurry up.” She stands up quickly and her hands fumble with her belt, a huff of frustration leaving her lips at that. “You’re really not as smooth as you think right now.” “Shhh,” she replies, giggling as she finally gets it undone. “I’m still smooth enough.”

She climbs back onto the bed then, her movements not as fluid as they usually are, but her eagerness sends a wave of arousal through you. Her fingers dip into the waistband of your underwear, and she pauses, looking up at you with a question in her eyes. “Can I?” You nod quickly, your breath hitching as she tugs them down, leaving you bare beneath her. “Dios mío,” she breathes, her voice barely above a whisper. “You’re perfect.”

Her gaze catches yours as she trails her fingers down your body, and you let out a soft gasp as her digits find your clit. Although she’s clearly trying her best, her movements are a little jerky, and it’s more uncomfortable than pleasurable for you. “Alexia…” you murmur, shifting slightly beneath her. “Am I-” she starts to ask, her brow furrowing, “is this okay?” You nod but guide her hand gently, showing her the rhythm you need. Her eyes soften, and she focuses harder, biting her lip as she matches your guidance. “There,” you whisper, your voice trembling. “That’s perfect.” She teases you a little, rubbing tight circles over your clit and eventually dipping her fingers down your folds to gather some arousal. It’s not perfect, it’s definitely not as precise as she usually was, but it felt good. 

A couple moments pass when you suddenly notice her body is no longer pressed against yours. She reaches over to the bedside table, clumsily rummaging through the contents of the bottom drawer, but you know what she’s looking for. She eventually retrieves the strap, a goofy triumphant smile on her face. As Alexia stands up from the bed, you take a moment to get comfortable, moving up the bed and against the pillows. You ground yourself, taking a couple deep breaths, but you notice that Alexia is taking way longer than usual. When you open your eyes again and look over at her, you can’t help but choke out a laugh at her state. She’s fumbling with the harness of the strap, and it would be adorable if she didn’t seem so worked up about it. “Need any help over there?” “No,” she insists stubbornly, and it takes a couple more tries, but she eventually manages to get it on snugly. 

As she walks back over to the bed and climbs on top of it, you can’t help but drift your gaze down to the silicone between her legs. If there was one way that Alexia knew to make you crazy, it was with her strap. Her muscled body and athlete’s stamina often made for multiple orgasms a night, the midfielder usually only ever stopping when you had to tap out.

She spreads your legs with one hand and rubs some lube up and down the strap with the other, and you feel a jolt of arousal course through you at the sight of her hand pumping up and down the toy. “Ready, mi amor?” You bite your lip and give her a nod, eyes fixed on the way she slides the toy between your folds, your breath catching in your throat as she rubs it over your clit a couple times. “Ale,” you start, your voice desperate, “please.”

As Alexia sinks into you, her breath catches in her throat, and her hands clutch your hips with a desperation that makes your heart race. "God, you're perfect," she groans, her voice slurred but full of emotion. Her lips press against your jaw, her words tumbling out. "I missed this. Missed you." Your nails rake lightly down her back as you arch into her. "You feel so good, Alexia," you whisper, your voice trembling with pleasure. "Just like that."

Her movements are messy, her thrusts uneven, but there’s something intoxicating about the way she moans your name. "Fuck, you're driving me crazy," she murmurs, her words slurred but passionate. "I can't, mi amor, I can't get enough of you." She loses her control at that, her thrusts becoming harsh as she grips your hips so tight you’re sure there’s gonna be a bruise tomorrow. You try to match her pace, guiding your hips along with her movements, but it’s to no use, as she seems to speed up inexplicably more. You try to relax and enjoy it, but it’s teetering on the edge of painful and you know she wouldn’t like it if you didn’t tell her.

You grip her shoulders, guiding her rhythm as best you can. "Slow down, baby," you murmur, your breath hitching when she adjusts. "Just take your time." Alexia nods against your neck, her lips brushing your skin. "Anything for you," she whispers hoarsely, her thrusts becoming more deliberate. "Just tell me... tell me what feels good, cariño."

When her pace steadies, a deep groan escapes her lips. "You're so tight," she mutters, her words broken and breathless. "So perfect for me." Your hands find her face, cupping her cheeks and forcing her to meet your gaze. "I love you," you say, your voice trembling as she hits the perfect spot inside of you with every thrust. Alexia’s eyes darken, and she lets out a low, guttural moan. "Say it again," she pleads, her thrusts deepening. "I love you," you repeat, your voice louder this time. "Only you."

You feel your first orgasm fast approaching, the weight of Alexia’s vulnerability combined with the way she seems to have perfected her thrusts, even in her drunken state, is pushing you to the edge far more quickly than you would’ve liked. The tension builds between the two of you, Alexia’s breathing growing heavier in your ear and you letting out moan after moan, no longer caring about who in your apartment building you’re keeping up with how loud you’re being.

Alexia's grip tightens, her lips brushing against your ear. "Come for me," she murmurs, her voice low and commanding despite her drunken haze. "Please, mi amor. I need to feel you." Her words push you over the edge, and your release triggers her own. You let out a desperate whimper of her name as she buries her face in your neck, her moans muffled but no less intense as she shudders against you. "Te amo," she whispers, her voice cracking with emotion. "So much, more than anything."

After a brief lull, where you’re both catching your breaths and Alexia rests her forehead against your shoulder, her warm breath tickling your skin, she stirs again. Her fingers trace lazy circles on your thigh, her touch sending little sparks through your body. "I’m not done with you," she murmurs, her voice slurred but filled with determination. You chuckle softly, still trying to recover. "Ale, you’re drunk."

“Doesn’t seem like that kept me from making you feel good just now.” You blush at her words, and you know she’s right. You hit her shoulder lightly, feigning annoyance, but the smile playing on your lips gives you away. Before you can protest, she’s shifting you onto your stomach, her hands clumsy but insistent as she guides your hips up. "Stay just like this," she says, her words breathy and almost pleading.

You lean your head down onto your forearms, waiting patiently for Alexia to adjust herself behind you, still trying to catch your breath from your first orgasm. Alexia’s hands roam your body, her touch eager. She fumbles a bit, trying to adjust herself, and lets out a frustrated groan when the strap isn’t cooperating. "Why is this so hard right now?" she mutters to herself, which makes you laugh softly. "Do you need help?" you offer, half-teasing, but there’s a fondness in your tone. "No, no," she insists, her brow furrowed in concentration. "I’ve got this. I swear."

Her hands tremble a little as she aligns the strap with your core, misjudging the movement a couple times. “Sorry, sorry, let me- wait, okay.” Finally, she aligns herself, and as she slowly pushes inside, the clumsiness fades. She lets out a low moan, gripping your hips tight. "Oh, fuck," you breathe, your voice raspy. "Fuck, that feels so good, Ale.”

Her thrusts aren’t as rushed this time, but she’s struggling to find a steady rhythm. She goes with deep, slow thrusts at first, but then speeds up a bit, and when you’ve finally adjusted, she slows down again. It feels good, but it’s not steady enough to be entirely pleasurable. “Babe,” you begin, your voice strained as you try to talk through the pleasure. “What? Did I hurt you?” Alexia speaks up before you can form your sentence, her thrusts slowing to a complete stop now. You look at her over your shoulder, your heart warming at the little frown that was etched across her forehead. “No, you’re not hurting me, baby. You’re just a little… off. Just try and be steady, yeah? I’ll guide my hips along.”

Her frown melts into a sheepish grin, and she nods, leaning forward to press a kiss against your cheek. “Sorry, cariño,” she murmurs against your skin. “I’ll do better.” This time, when her hips roll forward, the sensation draws a soft gasp from your lips, your head falling forward on your forearms. “Like this?” she asks, her voice low and slightly slurred but full of intent, her gaze locked on your face. “Yeah,” you breathe, “Like that.”

A smug grin spreads across her face, her earlier clumsiness replaced with a determination to make up for it. “Told you I’m smooth with it,” she teases, her voice tinged with playful arrogance. “Shut up and keep going,” you reply, your words coming out in a breathless laugh.

She chuckles, her lips trailing down the back of your neck as her hands tighten on your hips, anchoring you against her as she moves with more purpose. The heat between you builds quickly now, every thrust deliberate, every press of her lips against your body filled with an urgency that leaves you both gasping for air.

“You feel so good,” she murmurs, her voice thick with pleasure. “So do you,” you reply, your voice trembling as her movements drive you closer and closer to the edge. “Better now?” she asks, her tone playful but earnest, her lips brushing against your shoulder. “Much better,” you manage to say, your voice breaking into a soft moan as her rhythm deepens, her body pressing into yours with just the right amount of pressure. You know she won’t come again, usually only being able to come from the friction once, but you know she’s enjoying it just as much as you are. 

Her arm slips around your body after a while, two of her fingers finding your clit as she draws quick circles, firm around the bundle of nerves, a desperate moan leaving your lips at the added pleasure. “God, Ale-”, you start, your voice breathy, “fuck, baby, fuck, that’s so good. Don’t stop, please.”

You lose yourself in your pleasure, your back arching for her and moan after moan spilling from your lips as she brings you closer and closer to your release. She leans down, her body flush against yours and brings her lips to your ear. “Let go for me,” she whispers, her voice tender but full of intent. 

Her words and her movements are all you need, and when the release finally washes over you, it’s overwhelming, leaving your entire body trembling beneath her. She doesn’t stop, her touch soft and soothing as she helps you ride it out, her lips pressing lazy kisses to your skin.

When you finally come down, she collapses beside you, pulling you into her arms as you both catch your breath. “Better?” she asks again, her tone teasing but warm as she presses a kiss to your temple. “Perfect,” you reply, snuggling into her chest, your body still buzzing from the aftershocks.

Her fingers trace gentle patterns on your back as she mumbles, “I love you. Even if I’m a little drunk and clumsy sometimes.” You laugh softly, lifting your head to meet her gaze. “I love you too. Even if you’re a mess.” “Hey,” she protests lightly, her lips curving into a grin. “Shut up and kiss me,” you say, pulling her down into another kiss, her laughter muffled against your lips.

After cleaning each other up with a quick shower, Alexia is completely sobered up and you share the rest of your evening together, tangled in the sheets, whispering affirmations of your love and adoration for the other in the quiet of the night. 

[lavenders388]

HII!!

could we please get some kang dae ho x reader??

something where he’s a bit of his usual himbo self and the reader is maybe a bit airheaded— something about two people being in love with one another while the world around them is burning is amazing.

~Flowers in December~

<3 Kang Dae Ho x Reader

requested 💌

authors note: i am amazed by the amount of requests and also so flattered!! I am so happy to get back into writing not only for myself but to be able to make other people happy to see their ideas come to life!! i apologize if this has some flaws i cant wait to get more practice in and promise the next will be better!! feedback is always appreciated! thank you all so much!!<3 -matcha

~~~~~~~~~~~⋆｡‧˚ʚ🍓ɞ˚‧｡⋆~~~~~~~~~~~

...

~takes place during the second night~

"we should all take turns keeping watch over the group" player 456 urged as the warning for lights out echoed throughout the room, the rest of the group silently agreeing- trusting the man who claimed to have been in one of the previous games, leaving as the sole survivor. you were, as were many others, reluctant to believe that he had done all of this before, but after his help in the first game and joining his team for the second, you grew to trust him; and the other members of your group. the man that had been assigned your partner for keeping watch was coincidentally a member you were drawn to specifically- at first because he was close to your age, his boyish face making you feel a little less scared and alone in the second game, and eventually you appreciated his outward personality and kindhearted confidence, a stark contrast to the situation you both were in. as you sat together, although trying to protect your group from whatever could happen in the dark room, you felt even safer. "how in the world did you pull that off?" you broke the silence with a whisper, referring to him playing gonggi in the previous game. "my hands were shaking so badly i could barely even hold my ddakji." he laughs, a bit louder than he should have given the people sleeping, but it made you smile. "i told you all i played with my sisters!" he chuckles. "you said you know how to do it yeah," you retorted, stifling a giggle at him being unaware of the compliment. "you didn't tell us you were amazing at it, that was a surprise." he turns away, embarrassed of how deeply your compliment made him grin and scared you'd see him blushing even in the dark. "thank you y/n." he says bashfully as he regains his composure. the silence returns; the reality of where you're both having this conversation threatening to creep back in. his gaze softens as he turns to you again, "you did really well with your ddakji you know, doing it the first try is really impressive, especially given the circumstances." you smile, a toothy grin as not only are you proud of yourself but you appreciate the compliment; especially from him. the kind, authentic way he states how good you did has you unable to find a response. "t-thank you" you say, blushing and still smiling. "it helped that nobody was there, i get nervous when people are watching me." his demeanor changes. he nervously runs his hands through his hair. "I'm sorry if i made you nervous, y/n" he says sincerely. your confusion shows on your face until you realize what he means. "oh no don't worry! i meant the crowd, like how everybody was cheering for the other teams! i didn't want them all to see if i messed up. you watching me helped actually. it made me less nervous." the silence returns; comfortingly. you've forgotten where you are, you've forgotten what would have happened if you'd messed up, all that's on your mind is the man sitting next to you. when you look back he's staring at you. smiling. "thank you for being on my team." you say to him as he turns away, trying to hide how long he was looking at you. you've never seen him speechless before. "if we work together nothing can stand in our way." he said to you just as he said to jung bae before the game. "i am truly honored you feel that way." you half-joke. "what are your plans for tomorrow?" you ask as if youre speaking to him in a normal situation. "oh wait im sorry!" you laugh. "well i bet they're the same as mine then!" you joke about your forgetfulness as well as making light of where you find yourself. like hes done for you, he also had forgotten the events of the day and what followed tomorrow. the two of you talking made him feel as though he was living a good, normal day. it was greatly appreciated by him, your bubbly nature being a moment of solace.

a/n if this is buns at all please lmk what i can do better!!! ⋆｡‧˚ʚ🍓ɞ˚‧｡⋆

[clesired]

𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐋 | 𝐒𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐔𝐒 𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐊 !

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 ! “could i request a sirius black x black cat!reader? maybe he’s really awkward and whipped for her.” thank you to the lovely anon who requested this <3

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 ! you get asked out in the least normal way you can imagine.

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 ! no warnings, fluff, black cat fem!reader, second person pov, 0.9k words!

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You let out a soft sigh as you stop walking, turning around and coming face to face with none other than Sirius Black.

For an infamous prankster—he sure lacks stealth.

The corridor you’re standing in is empty save for the two of you and Merlin, if Sirius’ footsteps aren’t louder than an angry Hippogriff’s.

“Can I help you, Black?” You raise a brow, crossing your arms.

His eyes quickly dart to something just a little over your shoulder, and you don’t miss the way his fingers nervously drum against his thigh as he attempts to play it casual.

“Just walking through, L/N. Same as you.” He nods slowly, still avoiding eye contact.

You don’t buy it.

Sirius Black doesn’t do anything without an ulterior motive.

You step closer to him, eyes narrowing suspiciously. “Are you trying to prank me?”

His eyes widen as he straightens up, immediately shaking his head. “What? No!”

You’re about to say something else when you realize he looks…different. Not in a particularly good or bad way—just a very unlike Sirius way.

His hands can’t stay still, he keeps shuffling his feet side to side, his cheeks are tinged with a soft blush, and he can barely look you in the eye.

Yeah, you’re pretty sure you’ve caught him red-handed in the middle of a prank. Why else would he look like that?

Tilting your head, you cross your arms. “Care to share why you’re following me, then?” You ask expectantly.

His cheeks flush further as he flounders for an answer and you raise a brow.

Busted.

He looks down at his feet for a moment as he swallows. “I…” he trails off, and you take another step closer.

“You- I- uh…hair!” He suddenly blurts out, causing you to freeze mid step at the outburst.

Naturally, you look at him like he’s crazy. “What?”

He grimaces for a moment before clearing his throat and trying again. “Your uh- hair. It looks pretty.” He murmurs quietly, clearing his throat.

You furrow your brows in confusion before realization dawns on you and you glare. “Flattery will not get you out of this one, Black. Now what are you up to?”

He struggles yet again for an answer before, “Shoes!”

You look down at your shoes and frown upon not seeing anything out of the ordinary. “What are you talking about? My shoes are just fi-”

“They’re very nice.” He cuts you off, still not looking at you. His cheeks are as red as his tie at this point, and you are no less confused than you were when you started this conversation.

Sighing softly once more, you shake your head. “You’re not making any sense, Black. I just want to know-”

“The robes look good on you.” He interrupts you yet again, cheeks still flaming—but he’s looking at you now, so at least there’s that. “And the shoes, and the hair, and you in general-”

He’s beginning to ramble now, and all you can do is stand there and listen because you have no idea where this conversation is going anymore. Never really did in the first place, it seems, actually.

“Your eyes-” He’s still going, but your attention catches on something else behind him as you hear whispers behind a tapestry.

“Oh, for Godric’s sake-” you hear a voice mutter before Remus Lupin steps out, looking disgruntled as ever.

Two steps behind him is none other than James Potter—who at least has the decency to look sheepish when your eyes land on him.

Peter Pettigrew follows next and quickly scurries to stand somewhat behind the other two boys.

You have no idea when or how they got there without your notice, but in all fairness—when have the Marauders not been a confusing bunch?

Remus huffs, effectively pulling you out of your thoughts and catching your attention once more. “He’s trying to ask you out, L/N.” He explains simply.

You look back at Sirius, who smiles shyly and shrugs.

After a long moment of silence, you scoff. “Why didn’t you just say that!?”

Rather than letting Sirius respond, James steps forward, a lopsided smile on his face. “He can’t help it, L/N. He gets all nervous when he sees you and forgets how to talk, isn’t that right, Pads? Start sounding like Wormtail.”

Sirius nods quickly before looking at you and tilting his head, giving you a small smile.

Maybe it’s because his friends are here now, or simply that the proverbial cat is out of the bag—but for whatever blessed reason, Sirius finds his words. “So, um…would you like to go on the next Hogsmeade trip with me?”

You just stare at him for a few long moments, watching as he begins to shuffle nervously at your silence.

Finally, you raise a brow. “You gonna act normal?”

He nods vehemently, straightening up. “Promise.”

Behind him, the other Marauders are all nodding as well.

“Don’t worry, L/N. We’ll make sure he’s right for your date.” James winks, causing you to roll your eyes in amusement before looking back at Sirius.

“Okay.” You accept, smiling ever so slightly when Sirius breathes out a large sigh of relief and his friends start cheering loudly.

Just before you walk away, you toss one last look back at him.

“By the way, your hair looks pretty today too, Black.”

He smiles so wide it’s almost blinding, and you resume walking down the corridor with a small smirk.

3…2…1…

“Wait a minute, just today!? Oi!” You hear his loud Hippogriff footsteps start up again as he chases after you.

Yeah, he’s definitely back to normal.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 ! wooh, first post of the new year!!! i hope you lovelies enjoyed reading this as much as i enjoyed writing it!

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

©clesired - all rights reserved. do not copy, translate or share my work on other media platforms.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

xoxo,

mila! *: ･🐚༄🫧*ੈ✩

[crescenthistory]

I was reading your Animagus Reader fics and absolutely loved them so I had a little idea/request.

Regulus x Animagus!Reader where she is in her animagus form and she falls asleep in the library. It's already night and people are going to bed and so Barty wonders into the library and finds cat animagus reader, asleep and so bc he loves "his" treasure so much, he doesn't wake her up(surprisingly) and takes her back to his dorm where Regulus. Because Regulus is a spectacular boyfriend, he immediately recognizes his wonderful girlfriends animagus form and questions Barty why he has her. It's up to you how Barty responds and the entire conversation but, at some point Regulus asks for Barty to hand over reader to him and starts to whines and complains about how Regulus always hogs reader and he barely gets time with her, etc but, he even goes as far to say that he wants to cuddle with reader tonight but, Regulus gets her anyway(she is purring through this entire interaction).

Barty is also the type of friend I feel like who is cooing at her through this entire process even though she is asleep and can't hear it.

babe, i absolutely ADORE your vision for bsf!barty and his dynamic with regulus and reader. i wholeheartedly agree with the characterisation. i literally just expanded this exact take into a drabble, hope you enjoy mwah<3

Words: 1.5k

Warnings: fem!reader, use of y/n, barty pov, bsf!barty intended to be platonic but can be read ambiguously for both reader and regulus, implied background rosekiller, platonic and romantic physical affection, you're asleep through this whole fic lol, an appearance of pyro!barty

Note: as always, this is whiskers, the cat!animagus!reader i have written several fics for, starting with this one

Barty was bored. Endlessly so.

Evan and Pandora were off in Ravenclaw cooking up some potion Barty was strictly instructed to stay the hells away from. Regulus was off reading some stupid bloody paperback that Barty could swear he had seen him read before yet somehow chose to prioritise above him. And you, his favourite person, had not been seen or heard from for the past few hours. Probably off doing some studying like the swot you are, much to his chagrin. 

Barty was bored and his friends were boring.

What else could he do but go skipping down hallways until he finds something to do, then?

He had made it all the way through half of the library without finding any intriguing stimuli and he was growing jittery. With lanky fingers, he fished his muggle lighter out of his pocket and began flickering with it as he walked, eyes scanning the shelves.

There was a giddy itch rushing through him as he flicked the lighter on and off, on and off, the smell of it filling his nostrils familiarily.

Until his jumping gaze suddenly zeroed in on the one figure in the Hogwarts library that might have distracted him – a perfect treasure lying peacefully curled up on a coffee table between some settees. Whiskers, in all her white and grey fluffy glory, fast asleep with the cutest crinkled nose he could have imagined.

“There you are, kitten,” Barty cooed as his long legs sprung to action, marching towards your sleeping form. In the nearly abandoned library, he did his best to remain quiet and not wake you. He crouched in front of the table so his face was level with yours and an instinctive smile spread across his lips, one you had called soft once despite his many denials.

He reached out his right hand to scratch gently against your cheek in that spot that always had you purring, his messy stick and poke tattoos melting perfectly into your patterned fur. You heaved a dreamy sigh, nuzzling your face against Barty’s touch, still fast asleep.

“What’re you doing here, hm?” he asked despite knowing he could get no answer lest he wake you – something he refused to do.

Barty threw a quick glance to one of the many clocks scattered across the library, seeing that curfew was steadily nearing. When he went scouring for something to quell his itches, missing curfew was part of the point, but he knew that for you, this was likely a mistake. Judging by the notes strewn around you and your backpack still laying on a chair behind you that seemed to have been housing someone just a few minutes ago, you had not intended to fall asleep here. 

And even if Barty’s friends were boring, he did love the suckers, so–

“Alright, kitten, time to go home.” 

With the wave of his wand, he gathered all your belongings back into your backpack and easily slid it over his shoulders. Wearing none of the smugness one might have expected of Barty in this situation – just a small, indulging smile – Barty scooped you up into his arms. He quickly navigated your form from the table to slumping against his chest, trying to minimise the amount of movement you were subjected to, all the while making sweet noises to keep your mind tethered to its dreams.

Your feline face twitched a little, but required little more than his soothing voice and warm skin to fall back into your rest. 

Barty took a quick spin around to check if he had everything and once he was satisfied, he dropped a featherlight kiss in between your ears. “Come now, you absolute nerd. The library is no place to sleep.”

In contrast to his skipping and twirling from earlier, Barty stalked steadily through the hallways as he made his way down to the dungeons, only ever occasionally swaying you in his arms if you began to stir. He opened doors with wandless magic, at last grateful for Dorcas hounding him about practicing it so much – “you never know when you’ll need it, B” she had all but growled at him. Yeah, Cas, like when our feline friend is simply too cute to be awoken to the horrible sight of the sodding library.

Still, he was Barty Crouch Junior, so he made the stairs up to the boys’ dorm two at a time, an entirely new excitement growing in him at the thought of you sleeping over – and getting to rub his unearthed treasure in Regulus’ face.

The door opened with a creak at the flick of Barty’s wrist, and as he toed it open with his scratched up uniform shoes, Regulus’ voice already sounded through the room. “Barty? Have you seen Y/N?”

Barty turned around to shoulder the door open instead, so that his back was towards Regulus under the preface of closing the door behind him. “Oh yeah, I actually saw she found herself a new bloke. Much better looking.”

By the time he turned around with a flourish – cradling you even closer to his chest to ensure you weren’t rattled by his antics – Regulus was staring at him with a deadpan that suggested he already knew this new bloke had to be Barty.

“Ha ha,” Regulus said dryly, but his expression quickly softened when his eyes landed upon your sleeping self.

He had been laid out on his bed with his head propped up by pillows, his legs crossed by the ankles and his favourite paperback resting on his stomach, but he placed it face-down on his bedsheets in favour of sitting on the edge of his bed, staring at you with a smile.

“Hi, amour. Fell asleep again?” His voice was so sweet that Barty simply had to convey his nausea through faux puking.

“She fell asleep and is still asleep thank you very much, so don’t you dare wake her with your questions,” Barty reprimanded in a low voice before turning his attention back to you. Swaying you ever so slightly, he nuzzled his face against yours, causing you to purr loudly in instinctive response. “Aren’t you the cutest when you sleep, huh kitten?” He cooed, laying it on extra thick.

“Yeah yeah, and I suppose you’re the hero for fetching her.” Regulus rolled his eyes, walking up to stand in front of Barty. He reached out a finger to stroke across your face, but Barty backed away before he could.

“Precisely,” he said with mock arrogance. “I’m the hero, so I get to cuddle with the cute cat.”

“The cute cat is my girlfriend, Junior,” Regulus drawled. “And I’ve missed her. So hand her over.”

Barty looked him up and down, grin growing disturbingly. “No. I don’t think I will. You, Black, hog her too much. Time for you to share.”

Before Regulus could reach out and catch him, Barty sidestepped the curly-haired boy and went to settle down on his own bed. Regulus huffed and stalked after him, but Barty managed to toe off his shoes and slip beneath his blankets still with you in his arms.

“Barty, you cannot be serious,” Regulus all but whined.

“No, that’s your brother.” If Regulus had rolled his eyes harder, Barty was sure they would have popped out. “I’ve missed her too and finder’s keepers. So if you’re that desperate to spend time with her, then get in.”

Barty and Evan had magically widened their beds years ago to have more comfortable sleepovers, and seeing as their third was still out with his twin sister, there was ample space for Regulus to be able to slip in beside Barty.

The other boy huffed, looking around the room as if searching for a final form of leverage. When he came up empty, he scowled at Barty before all but ripping the blankets back. “I hate you, you know.”

Barty hummed as if he couldn’t be more in agreement all the while shimmying close against Regulus once he got comfortable. 

You shifted in Barty’s arms so that your hind legs and tail curled around Regulus’ upper arm, drawing an immediate cooing sound from him that made Barty giggle. Regulus couldn’t even deign to shove his best friend for his disrespect, his grey irises seemingly glued to you. Every movement of your whiskers, the steady rise and fall of your chest, the warmth seeming to emanate off of you.

“She was in the library?” Regulus asked in a quiet voice, lithe fingers grazing up and down your sides.

“Mhm, on top of that table she likes to sit by. Overstudied, I’m sure. You two swots deserve each other.”

Regulus shook his head with a smile, leaning his weight further against Barty’s side so that he could press kisses to your hind paws. Barty was grinning down at the two of you, happy for his friends and elated at having his way.

“No. None of us deserve her.” Regulus said it matter-of-factly. At the very same time you yawned and stretched burying your head into the material of Barty’s jumper, making him coo down at you lovingly, every bit as nauseating as he accused Regulus of being.

“For once I agree with you, my sweet Reggie.”

[bsturnzmtts]

Needy

From older bf! Matt x sweetheart! Reader

Continuation of Innocent touches

Contains/warnings: making out, virgin! shy! Reader, fingering, oral f receiving, pet names, praising, slight overstimulation

It’s been a week, and you can’t stop thinking about what happened last time… how good it felt. The thought lingers, making your heart race, but you don’t know how to bring it up to Matt. You’re not sure if you’re ready to lose your virginity, but you can’t ignore the ache to feel that close to him again. And yet, a small part of you feels guilty, like you haven’t given him enough in return.

You and Matt are lying side by side on his bed, the quiet of the room making everything feel a little more intimate. You’re trying to stay focused on the conversation, but it’s hard with how close he is. Every time his hand brushes yours, your heart races, and you can feel your face getting warm. You subtly move a little closer, hoping he doesn’t notice, but of course, Matt catches it. He glances at you with a sly smile, his tone playful but soft. “You seem a little distracted,” he says, his voice low, as if he knows exactly what’s going on.

Your cheeks burn, and you quickly look away, not sure how to explain the nervous energy building up inside you. “Oh- no no.. sorry, continue.”

Matt chuckles softly, his hand moving to rest on your leg, his thumb gently tracing circles on your skin. He leans in closer, his breath warm against your ear as he whispers, "You sure? Because it feels like there's something on your mind."

You freeze, your heart racing as you try to steady your breathing. “N-No, it’s nothing,” you stammer, feeling the warmth of his hand on your leg making it even harder to think straight.

Matt’s fingers tighten slightly on your leg, his thumb continuing to draw lazy circles on your skin. He tilts his head, his lips brushing against your ear as he speaks, his voice low and soothing. “You sure? You’re blushing, sweetheart.”

Your fingers twitch, wanting to hide your face but unable to move away from him. “I-I don’t know what you mean…”

He chuckles softly, moving his hand slightly higher up your thigh, not enough to be inappropriate, but enough to make you notice. "You don't have to be nervous around me. Whatever it is... you can tell me."

You feel a shiver run through you at the gentle pressure of his hand, your pulse quickening as he continues to trace soft circles. “Nothing… I just think you look really good today.” Your voice barely above a whisper. You can feel your heart pounding in your chest, your body betraying you with every passing second.

Matt's lips curve into a warm, pleased smile at your shy compliment. He’s clearly enjoying your flustered state but not pushing any further. He shifts closer to you, eliminating the last bit of space between your bodies. His hand, still resting on your thigh, gives it a light, appreciative squeeze. "Thank you... you look really beautiful today too." He moves closer, his face inches from yours, he pulls you into a kiss.

You immediately start kissing him back, like you needed to taste his lips.

As the kiss deepens, Matt's hand on your thigh slowly begins to slide upwards, his touch gentle and unhurried. He takes his time exploring your mouth with his own, savoring the feeling of your lips pressed against his.

You can feel your panties getting wetter and wetter as the kiss keeps going. You can’t help squeeze your thighs together. Your body just did it, not even thinking that Matt's hands are there.

Feeling the movement of your thighs, Matt breaks the kiss and looks at you with a knowing smile. He gently pushes your legs apart, settling his hand between your thighs. "Sweetheart, you're soaked," he says, his voice low and amused.

The sudden touch makes you gasp, your breath catching in your throat. You can feel the heat spreading through your body, your thoughts momentarily scrambling. “Matt…” you whisper, your voice trembling, not sure whether you’re pleading for more or begging for him to stop.

He gently rubs your clit through your soaked panties, his touch light and teasing. "Shh, just relax," he whispers back, his eyes locked on yours. "I've got you." He leans in to kiss you again, his fingers continuing to rub your clit in slow, circular motions.

You try your best to hide your moans and whimpers but miserably fail. “I—” You swallow, trying to find your voice. “I don’t know what I want…” Your body starts squirming with pleasure.

Matt smiles against your lips, his fingers never stopping their gentle rubbing. "You don't have to know," he whispers back, his free hand reaching out to gently stroke your hair. "I know exactly what you want." He kisses you deeply, his fingers increasing their pressure slightly as he rubs your clit.

You moan at his words and dominance. Without even thinking your hips buck against his hand.

His low chuckle vibrates against your lips as he continues to tease you. His fingers slip beneath the edge of your panties, finally touching bare skin. "Look at you, getting so needy..." His voice is a husky whisper, clearly enjoying your reactions.

“Oh Matt” moans are coming out of your mouth as you roll your eyes in pleasure.

His fingers slide down, parting your folds and slowly entering you. He begins to pump them in and out, his thumb continuing to circle your clit. His other hand grips your hip, holding you still. "So tight and wet for me,"

“Mmh fuck”

He smirks at your curse, his fingers curling slightly inside you to hit that sweet spot. He leans in to suck on your neck, marking you as he continues to finger you. "Such a dirty mouth on you, sweetheart,"

“Mmh M-Matt I think-” that now familiar knot starts forming on your stomach.

He notices the change in your body and pulls his fingers out of you, bringing them to his lips and sucking your juices off them.

“Mmh noo, why did you stop?” You whine.

Matt chuckles softly, a wicked glint in his eye. "Patience, sweetheart. I'm not about to leave you hanging." He leans in close, his breath hot against your ear. "I just want to taste you properly."

You frown your eyebrows in confusion. “What do you mean?”

His hand moves between your legs again, gently stroking your soaked panties. “Lie back," he commands softly, already moving down your body. "Spread your legs for me." His tone is gentle but firm, leaving no room for misunderstanding. He hooks his fingers into the waistband of your panties, slowly pulling them down. "I'm going to lick this pretty pussy until you come all over my face." He starts placing soft kisses along your inner thighs.

You gasp at his words and actions. You can feel your pussy clenching around nothing as you feel his hot breath getting closer.

He settles between your legs, pushing them wider apart. His thumbs spread your folds open, revealing your swollen clit. He looks up at you, his eyes dark with desire. "Beautiful," He presses a gentle kiss right above your clit, making you gasp. "Look at how swollen you are for me," His tongue makes a single slow pass over your clit, making you arch your back "So sweet..."

“Matt mmh” it felt amazing, you’ve never felt this good before.

He starts lavishing attention on your clit with his tongue, alternating between gentle licks and firm sucking. His fingers slide inside you again, finding that spot that drives you wild. Every time you moan, he groans against your pussy, the vibrations adding to your pleasure. "You're doing so well, sweetheart," He whispers against your sensitive skin, his breath hot and teasing.

“It feels so good Matt” you moan as you arch your back further. And your hands move down to his hair.

He feels your hands in his hair, tugging gently as you arch your back making him growl softly, the sound sending shivers through your body. He buries his face between your legs, eating at your pussy like a starving man. "Fuck, you taste so good," He curls his fingers inside you, hitting that spot that makes his knees buckle underneath him.

“Oh god mh Matt I’m close.” you whimper.

Presses harder on your clit with his tongue, moving his fingers faster inside you "Come for me, sweetheart. Let me taste it all." His other hand moves to your stomach, pressing down gently to keep you from bucking away from his mouth "Come all over my face."

“Fuck Matt mmh” finally you feel that knot release at your body shakes slightly.

As your orgasm hits, he continues lapping at your pussy, prolonging your pleasure. He moans against you, clearly delighted by your intense response. "That's it, fuck yes," he praises, his voice muffled by your thighs. He grabs your thighs tightly as he continues to suck on your clit.

“Mmh no Matt mh I- I’m sensitive” you let out and your thighs try to close.

He ignores your pleas, keeping your thighs spread wide as he continues his feast. "Shh, you can take it," He growled possessively, his hands tightening on your thighs to keep them open. He sucks on your swollen bud, drawing out another whimper from you.

“Fuck pl-please stop” you bed as your hips buck in overstimulation.

He finally relents, releasing your clit and leaning back with a smug grin. His lips and chin glisten with your juices. "You taste divine, sweetheart." He gives one last teasing lick, making you shudder. Rising up, he kisses you deeply, letting you taste yourself on his tongue.

“Mh” you kiss back tasting yourself. “Thank you Matt…”

He breaks the kiss, nuzzling into your neck. "No, thank you, I could eat you out all night.” He murmurs, his breath hot on your skin.

You blush slightly at his words and get nervous again. “Matt..”

Sensing your nervousness, he pulls back slightly and cups your face gently. "Hey, look at me." His thumb brushes your cheek soothingly. "We don't have to do anything else you're not comfortable with, okay?"

You look away feeling even more nervous and guilty you haven’t given him anything. “But… what about you?”

He tilts your chin up, forcing you to meet his gaze. "What about me?" His expression is soft, with no hint of frustration or demand. "Don't worry about me right now." He presses a gentle kiss to your forehead. "I just wanted to make you feel good. If you're worried about returning the favor, don't be. I'm happy just making you come undone like that."

“Are you sure?”

He smiles reassuringly, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Yes. You don't owe me anything. I like spoiling you and making you feel good, okay?" He wraps his arms around you, pulling you into his lap. "Let's just cuddle for a bit, hmm?"

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[hyprfixate]

for the taking :: [B.C] x [H.J] x [K.S] x reader

read on AO3

summary: of your three boyfriends, you like to push chan's buttons the most so that he'll really get things going. you sadly underestimate how wild things can get when you rile him up.

pairing: kim seungmin x bang chan x han jisung x reader

tropes: poly!skz mmmf foursome, porn without plot

smut warnings: mentioned free use dynamics, dacryphilia, dom/sub dynamics, brat play, overstimulation x100000, pussy eating, implied mxm dynamics, dom jisung, soft dom/sadist seungmin, hard dom/brat tamer chan, mentions of safewords (it's not used), unprotected sex but it's a long established relationship, reader initiated slight cnc, dirty talk, reader is called a slut as a degradation thing. it's really just pure filthy, not a plot point in sight.

author's note: i didn't plan to write this at all. idk where it came from. enjoy anyway!!

word count: 8.7k

You're laying on your stomach in your bedroom. The lights are dim, music is thrumming from your speaker, and there's a candle on your wax warmer.  It's a quiet, soft night, the kind that you don't see many of. There's always something going on in the duplex you share with your partners. It can be tiring, but in the quiet, you realize you sort of miss it. You fiddle with the green beaded bracelet on your wrist as you scroll aimlessly through your phone.

Then, the door across the hall slams.

Only you and Chan are home tonight, Seungmin and Jisung off God-knows-where for whatever reason. Chan was supposed to go out with them, but he had a project to finish for his job, the same project that had him losing sleep for the last few weeks. You may never understand what exactly goes into producing music, but from the way he stayed hunched over his computer 24/7, you knew it was complicated.

You're not at all surprised when you hear your door creak open slowly. You turn over, eyes catching Chan's as he stands in your doorway with his arms folded across his chest. He's wearing a haberdash of house clothes, including a baseball cap, but you can still see the dark tint on his eyes.

You feign innocence.

“Hey you,” you smile at him. “Taking a break?”

“Something like that. What're you doing?”

You shift your phone to the hand with your bracelet, holding it up and giving it a little shake. His gaze hardens even more. “Just on Instagram.”

His eyes are trained on your wrist, just like you wanted. He recognizes the bracelet. Of course he does– he and the boys bought it for you after one of your many, many conversations. You give a little smile. "It's cute, right? The green matches my t-shirt," you say sweetly. 

It does, but that's not the only reason you're wearing it.

You're wearing it because they know that green means go. Or yes. 

Or take.

"Did you need something, Chan?"

He doesn't respond, choosing instead to push up off of the doorframe and make his way over to you. You decide to roll onto your back to see him better, and by the time you're situated, he's standing over you, arms still crossed.

You gulp.

"Um, hi," you breathe out. Nervousness was not part of the plan. "I– Did you... need something?"

He drops one of his hands and grips your ankle, and where the skin connects you feel like you've been electrocuted. Your body comes alive immediately. You can only watch as he barely strains a single muscle as he pulls you down to the edge of the bed.

"Put your phone down," he instructs. He reaches the soft part of your thigh and pinches, lips curling into a smirk when you yelp.

"Channie, I—"

"I said," he repeats, a little harsher this time, "put your phone down."

You do as you're told, dropping it on the floor next to his feet. He keeps pulling until your entire lower half is hanging off the bed. With your legs spread like they are, you're certain he can feel the pulsing coming from between your legs.

He hums.

"You know why I'm here," he says lowly. It's not a question.

Despite the speed of your heart, you blink up at him dumbly, fighting against the wave of arousal that licks down your spine when he raises an eyebrow.

"I don't know what you're talking about," you manage.

Both of his eyebrows are up now, his expression seemingly surprised for a second before it fades. He nods lightly, almost as though contemplating what you've said, and then he releases you and takes a step back.

Your heart drops for a second. You think you've messed up somehow, or maybe your tone didn't come out right. You're about to backtrack, but then he's back, hooking his fingers into either side of your waistband, and with one simple tug he has your pajama pants completely off. 

If Chan is surprised that you're not wearing any underwear, he doesn't show it.

You gasp when the cool air hits your lower body, and you watch as he smirks. He returns his vice like grip on your ankle when you start to squirm under his gaze. 

"I see you still like to pretend that you have some ounce of control in this relationship," he deadpans. He tugs you back down the bed when you try to wiggle away. You're embarrassed that his strength doesn't seem to be affected by his sleep deprivation. "Come on, baby. You know better than that."

You fight back the giddy smile that threatens to take over your face at his voice. "I don't know what you're talking about," you lie. "Why're you bothering me? Don't you have work to do?"

"I can't focus," he says smoothly. "I couldn't stop thinking about you while I was working. About how much easier work might be if I could fuck you to clear my head."

"That's too bad," you shrug, hoping he can't see how you're clenching around nothing. "I was busy."

He hums absentmindedly, letting the hand on your ankle travel higher. He runs his fingers up your calf, then your knee, until finally he hooks the inside of his wrist behind it, forcing your legs to part. You gasp and try to snap them closed, but he only has to shift a bit so that his other hand is on your opposite leg, holding you open for him.

"Why do you always act like you're not dying for me to touch you, hm?" he asks, but it's rhetorical.  He knows you don't have an answer. You never do. Even so, when you stay quiet, he huffs out a humorless laugh.

"Okay. I'm going to give you two options, because I'm feeling generous." He holds up one finger. "Option one, you admit you're just being a brat, I'll fuck it out of you, and then we can both go back to what we were doing. Or–"

You whine as he abruptly leans down with your legs still in his hands, effectively folding you in half. "Or, option two, you keep it up, and I can tell the boys to come home. Then we'll make this a lot longer than it needs to be."

Chan is dangerously close to your face now. The brim of his hat is touching your forehead. You're almost sure he can feel your heartbeat through the fabric of both of your shirts.

"So what do you want, princess?" he asks, voice dripping with honey. 

You shiver. His gaze is so intense you forget how to breathe. At your silence, he yanks you further into him, pressing himself right up against your uncovered cunt. Even through his basketball shorts you feel the unmistakable heat of his erection.

"I said, what do you want?"

Fuck.

You can't take it anymore. You feel like you're burning with need. "I'm sorry, Channie," you whine out. You can see the fire in his eyes, the way he's so worked up already, and it makes you weak. "I'll be good."

He gives you a sweet smile, leaning forward to press a kiss against your mouth. You sigh into it, letting your body go lax so he can take control. 

Despite your attempts, brattiness never lasts long with Chan. With Seungmin and Jisung, you love the challenge, love making them crack and beg a little, but Chan is entirely unrelenting. You know better than to get him too riled up, especially if you actually want anything to happen.

The kiss is a stark contrast to what you know is to come, and you know that it's on purpose. He always likes to give you the chance to back out, a way to change your mind. Bracelet or no bracelet, your comfort is still always his first priority. It's what makes you comfortable enough to tease him.

But when he pulls away from the kiss and you chase after his mouth, he only smiles.

"There's my good girl," he says. He releases your knees and presses a kiss against your cheek, and then the tip of your nose.

"Chan," you whine. Your body feels cold where his hands just were.

He only tilts his head when he looks at you. "Hm?" Then his gaze turns sinister. "Did you... need something, princess?"

Oh. 

Shit.

"Wait,” You're scrambling up from your position. “Wait, please, Chan, don't–"

He hums. "You were so mean to me," he says, trailing a single finger down your cheek. "I don't think you deserve anything from me."

You attempt to sit up, eyes widening, but he's keeping you pinned down on your bed. "But I said I'm sorry," you whine. "Channie, please, I'll be good--"

He tilts his head again, pretending to think, letting his hand fall down your face to hold your chin between his thumb and forefinger.

"No," he decides, and he straightens up, taking a step back. "I think I'm gonna go back to work."

Before you can grab him, he's slipped away, nearly halfway to your door. "Sorry, babygirl. Maybe next time, yeah?"

The smirk on his face is proof he's anything but sorry. He gives you a fake little pout before winking and stepping out of your room, clicking the door closed behind him.

You're sat up on the bed, staring at the door with your jaw slacked. This is a new level of evil, you think. You hear his bedroom door open and shut, then the muffled sound of the track he's working on vibrates the walls.

It takes longer than you'd like for your wits to come back to you, but when they do, you're both utterly gobsmacked and thoroughly impressed.

He's teasing you.

There's a part of you that's tempted to just give in, to make your way across the hall and apologize. Chan is stubborn, but not unreachable. You know if you march into his room, you could get on your knees and make him relent in seconds.

But fine. He wants to play dirty?

You can play dirty, too.

-

It's less than an hour later when you hear the front door open and shut, the sound of Jisung and Seungmin's voices carrying up the stairs. You hear takeout bags and the jingling of their keys, and then–

“We're home!”

You make no effort to move, waiting to see if Chan will leave his room first. Besides, you're still working through some of the details of your plan.

If you stay in your room, Seungmin would come upstairs to check on you first. You know he'll fuck you good, but it takes time to warm him up. By the time you start getting anywhere, Jisung will get to Chan, who might do something stupid like tell him that you were being a brat, and then he'll come in and ruin the whole thing.

No, you need eager. You need impulsive.

You need Jisung.

You pad to the bedroom door, opening it and sticking your head out. Chan's door is still closed, the track he's working on still pumping through the speakers, so you take the opportunity to get the ball rolling.

You make your way down the hall and to the top of the stairs, where you can see Jisung standing in the entryway of the kitchen. The two have already shed their jackets and shoes, and Seungmin is now busy unloading the food they brought back into the fridge. His back is turned to you.

Bingo.

"Hey," you say softly. Jisung's head whips up, eyes brightening as he spots you. He says something you can't hear to Seungmin before he's jogging up the stairs towards you. He scoops you into a squeezing hug.

"Hi my baby," he says happily, pressing a kiss against your forehead. "How was your day?"

You giggle in the hug. "It was alright. Kind of boring. How was yours?"

"We had fun," he says. He sets you down and leans against the wall next to you, reaching and catching your hand in his. You deliberately give him the hand with the bracelet, but he doesn't see it. "I missed you though."

"I missed you, too."

Jisung grins. He opens his mouth to speak again, but then he furrows his eyebrows when he looks at you, like he's just noticing something.

"Is that my shirt?"

“Is it?” You look down, feigning surprise. "Oh, yeah I guess it is."

He hums, tilting his head. His eyes trail to your hand, and he finally seems to notice the bracelet on your wrist. "That's weird. I could've sworn I saw it in my drawer this morning."

You shrug. "Maybe you're just losing your mind."

He grins, bringing your hand up to his mouth and pressing a kiss against your open palm. "Yeah, maybe. Or are you trying to tell me something?"

You bat your eyelashes up at him. "Am I?"

His smile turns sly. "You are, aren't you?"

Jisung doesn't wait for a response, clasping his hand around yours and pulling you down the hallway back into your room. He kicks the door shut behind him and spins to face you, a wicked grin on his face.

You squeal when he picks you up, wrapping your legs around his waist and laughing against his mouth. His kisses are hot and eager– there's no break for breath as he moves across the room with you. You don't even pause when he lays you down on your bed, hand sliding “his” t-shirt up your body.

You shiver when he brushes against your thigh. His hands are cold from outside, and the contrast against your warm skin feels like electricity. He smiles in the kiss and squeezes the skin tight.

Your own hands find their way around his neck, pulling him even closer into you. Through the thin fabric of the shirt you're wearing, you can feel the hardness of his body all pressed against yours. He shifts against you and the friction makes your nipples harden right under him.

His hands leave your thighs. They wind their way up your torso, feeling you up all along the way until he finds the stiff peaks that called his attention. He runs his thumbs over them, drinking up every sound you make. One of your hands cards into his hair and you tug.

He groans at that, finally pulling away from the kiss with a grunt and instead trailing his kisses down the column of your throat. His teeth graze your pulse point and you buck up into him in surprise.

You feel him laugh against you.

"You're so cute," he says into your neck. He mouths over the skin before biting down, hot wet tongue immediately after. A bruise, then.

"Sungie," you gasp out. Your back arches off the mattress as his hands wander all over you. You've always loved how naturally his mouth works its way around your body– he knows just where to kiss, what spots to brush his nose over. Like he's learned the entire road map to your pleasure.

Maybe he has.

He mouths down your body, pausing and sucking on your breasts before leaving wet, soft kisses down the expanse of your tummy. When he gets to your core, he shifts his kiss-trail over to your inner thigh.

"Do you know how hot you are?" He murmurs. "Like all the time. Holy fuck. This is my shirt, princess. My shirt. Don't you know that drives me crazy?"

You do. It's precisely why you grabbed it.

His tongue meets your skin in an agonizing, slow stripe along your inner thigh. The higher he gets, the more your legs tremble around him, until finally his lips close around your clit.

The feeling is overwhelming. Your head lolls back against the bed and you let out a breathy moan. He hums against you, fingers digging into the skin of your thighs as he holds your legs up. Your hands are shaking, but one winds its way back into his soft hair, and you tug.

He moans at that, a sound that sends vibration up through your whole core. He takes a hand away and brings it down, letting his thumb just press lightly against your entrance. Even in the slightest sense of pressure, you arch further into him, wanting more, more, more.

He sucks on your clit even harder, his tongue joining, and when you look down and see his blissed out expression between your legs, you think your heart might jump right out of your chest.

In all the times the boys have taken you apart, they've never made you come this quickly. You're not sure if it's because of the moment with Chan earlier, or because you've been thinking about having one of them fuck you all day. All it takes is two large fingers, pushing and stretching inside of you while his mouth moves so perfectly around your throbbing clit for you to snap. You come with a sob, your thighs pressing against his head.

If there's one thing Jisung certainly loves, though, it's eating you out. He could spend hours between your legs, kissing and sucking and licking until you're boneless and spent. So there is no sign of slowing in his rhythm, even when you wriggle from overstimulation.

"Sung," you moan. He responds by pinching your thigh, sucking hard on your clit so your yelp turns into a moan.

Distantly, you register the sound of footsteps that pause right outside of your door. You hear knocking, but not on your door, and you realize Seungmin has finally come upstairs, likely to grab everybody for some quality time after a day apart.

You almost laugh at how well this is working out for you.

Jisung slides his fingers back into you, and your attention is split between straining to hear what's going on in the hallway and the blinding pleasure you're feeling. He curls his fingers up and you find yourself gushing on his hand, your own fingers tangled in his hair so tight he can barely move.

"God, you're so fucking wet," he murmurs against you. He almost sounds giddy. "Did you miss me, baby?"

You can't even form a response, only able to whine as he fucks into you with his fingers, tongue flicking over your clit just fast enough to make you tremble. Your orgasm is coming on strong, and you feel like you're floating above your body, every touch electric, every movement monumental.

And then–

"Ah, so that's where they are."

Your eyes snap to your now-open door. Your other two boyfriends are there, and you make direct eye contact with Chan just as your second orgasm reaches its peak. You arch up off the bed, gasping into the air as your body trembles, and Jisung keeps his mouth on you, sucking hard and making your vision go white.

After a minute, he finally slows his pace, pulling away and finger-fucking you slowly and deep. He would never stop completely, especially not now that everyone's in the same room. His voyeurism is likely cranked up to 10, and you know he'll be pouty and whiney for the rest of the week unless he gets to watch one of the other boys split you open on their cock.

From the way he's looking at you, you feel like it'll be Chan doing the splitting.

Seungmin, ever the sane one, pretends to roll his eyes. "So this is why neither of you were answering my texts about movie night? This couldn't wait?"

"Well, she was wearing my shirt and nothing under it," Jisung says, grinning up at him. He gives your clit one last suck before kissing it and propping himself up, fingers still buried to the hilt inside of you. Your brain feels foggy as you stare at the three of them. You can still feel yourself gushing on his fingers.

Seungmin notices, eyes glued to your cunt as he walks over. You see his faux annoyance dissolving. "Fuck, she's really wet, isn't she."

Jisung grins. He presses a kiss against your inner thigh. "Yeah, I think she missed us."

Chan scoffs. He finally makes his way into the room fully, and you can see where his cock is straining against the fabric of his shorts. "No. She missed getting fucked." 

He stands at the end of the bed, eyes fixed on Jisung's hand as he continues to move inside of you. "Did you tell Jisung what happened earlier, baby?"

Jisung huffs out a little laugh, half lidded eyes going back to your face. "Hmm. No. She didn't."

A chill runs down the length of your spine. Fuck. It sounds like Chan got to them first.

"Chan said you were being a real big brat earlier," Seungmin hums. He pulls his eyes away from your center and finally looks at you. "Is that true, angel? Were you being bad for Chan?"

You shake your head, eyes going doe-ish as he gets closer to you. You realize you need to change your plan and do it quickly. It takes less than half a second for a new idea to come: Seungmin is the softest of the three of them, at least in sexual situations. If you can get him on your side you might have a chance.

That thought flies out of the window when his hand makes its way around your throat, squeezing with just the right amount of pressure. 

"Don't lie to me, sweetheart." His voice is deceptively soft. "Don't you think Chan already spoke to us?"

You fight back a gasp at the sheer betrayal, but decide to double down anyway. "Wasn't being bad," you manage. You stick out your bottom lip in a pout. "I didn't do anything!"

Seungmin squeezes again, harder, and you really do gasp this time. "Then why did we both get a text from Chan earlier saying you were being mean to him? Hmm?"

"He said he came to blow off some steam and someone," Jisung presses his fingers directly against that squishy part inside of you, "Was being all bratty. Telling him to leave her alone."

It's at this moment that you realize all your planning was futile. You've fallen right into their trap.

You try the Seungmin strategy again, panting as you look up at him. "Minnie, please," you whine. You can't think with Jisung hitting your spot like that. "I wasn't– I–"

He tilts his head. "Oh come on baby. I think you're just lying to us now."

Your chest heaves. Jisung has chosen now to dive back into your cunt, tongue swiping up your slit and circling around your clit. Your brain is too scrambled to think of any other ways out of this situation, so you resort to what you always do: 

Pleading.

"'m sorry, Minnie," you rasp. "Didn't mean to– Didn't mean to be bratty."

Seungmin softens only slightly. "Are you sure?"

"Yes!" You're gasping around your words. "I promise. I just wanted to make him mad, wasn't trying to be mean."

In all of your begging and the relentless fervor of Jisung's tongue, you barely notice Chan making his way to the other side of your bed. Seungmin's grip loosens around your throat, his fingers tracing the outline of your jaw as he takes in your words.

"Hm. What do you think, Chan?"

You turn to look at him. He's shed his shirt somewhere along the way, and the hard musculature of his stomach is glistening with sweat. He climbs onto the bed and situates himself so that he's behind you with your head in his lap. You're expecting his hand to replace Seungmin's around your throat, but instead he reaches over you, gripping the hem of your shirt and sliding it up over your chest until your breasts are on full display. Seungmin immediately sinks down to his knees and takes your nipple into his mouth.

You're a gasping, whining mess, eyes rolling back until all you can see is white. You feel Jisung sling his arm around you to keep your body still.

Above you, Chan lets the shirt go and switches his focus to your hands, pulling them up and holding your wrists together in one hand to keep them above your head.

"I think," he murmurs, using his free hand to caress your face, "That if she wants to cum so bad, we should let her."

Your heart drops. To the untrained ear, it sounds like you've won, but you know better. You know Chan, and you know he has something up his sleeve. But when you look up at him, he's looking down at you with a sickly sweet smile.

"If she's sorry," he continues, "She'll behave. Right, babygirl?"

You can't speak. The dual sensations are sending you to the moon. The hand caressing your face grips your jaw tight, keeping your gaze locked on him.

"I asked you a question, princess."

As soon as you open your mouth to answer, your orgasm crashes into you without warning. It's the third one in a row, and you feel much like a washcloth that's been wrung out. Your movements are jerky, uncoordinated, and even as you continue trying to respond to Chan, your voice is not coming out.

"Jisung." He says simply.

The boy in question pulls away from your cunt with a satisfying pop. He's absolutely pussy drunk, eyes half lidded and tongue rolling over his lips to savor the flavor of you. If it were just the two of you, he'd keep going, but amongst the hierarchy of dominance, Chan has been, and will always be, at the top.

"I think she's ready now, yeah?" Chan rubs his thumb against your skin. "Fuck her good for me."

When orchestrating your own plan, you looked at Jisung’s eagerness as something to work in your favor. You hoped he would get you riled up enough for you to scream his name a couple times and really make Chan mad. But now, as he shimmies out of his sweats and boxers, taking his thick length in his hand, you feel nervousness tickle your gut.

Seungmin has pulled away from your nipple, reaching down to hold one of your thighs up. He's murmuring sweet nothings to you as he holds you open for Jisung. The latter is poised at your entrance, stroking himself and watching you with hungry eyes. 

You tip your head back to look at Chan again, and he only smiles down at you.

"Channie," you whimper out. You can barely speak, you're so overwhelmed. "Please–"

"Shh," he coos. "I know, baby. But this is what you wanted, yeah?" His hand moves from your jaw to your mouth, pressing a finger against your lips. You suck it in without thought, letting your tongue swirl around him with your cheeks hollowed out like you would on his cock. "I just want to see you take Sungie's dick. Be good, baby."

You almost choke when Jisung thrusts into you. You're already so wet and so sensitive, and his cock is stretching you so wide, pushing deep inside until you're sure you can feel him in your stomach. He gives you no time to adjust, that eagerness coming full force as he fucks right into you.

"God, she's still so tight," he breathes. One hand finds purchase in the dip of your waist, the other moves to the thigh not being held by Seungmin, folding you up and spreading you open to give him more leverage as he fucks into you hard.

Seungmin hums, trailing kisses along your leg and the side of your neck. "Feel good, angel? You like having Jisung's cock inside you?"

You can't even respond, mind blank as Jisung plows you deep. Your back is arched off of Chan's lap, head pushed back as his finger keeps your mouth propped open. You're a dumb, drooling mess around him, and despite the soft smile on his lips, you know it's wrecking him. 

To prove your point, he digs his nails in one of your palms, a stark contrast to the way Seungmin's hand is gently rubbing up and down your body, playing with your nipples and caressing your sides and stomach.

It's all too much, the sensations are overwhelming, and you're so wound up from earlier that you already feel the orgasm building. You mewl pathetically, eyes watering as you look around for someone to have pity on you.

It's Chan who catches your pleading gaze, but he only raises an eyebrow.

"You're gonna cum again? Already?" he says. It's not condescending or snarky, rather genuine disbelief and curiosity. His finger leaves your mouth and you let out a dry sob as trails of spit drip down your chin.

Jisung doesn't hear this– or can't, rather. He's fucking into you like he'll die if he stops, breathy moans leaving his mouth as he does. He's babbling nonsense, things like how tight you are and how well you take him in. You know he's close too, because his hips have gone erratic in their rhythm. Yet somehow, he gets faster.

The knot in your stomach feels heavy as lead. This orgasm might genuinely take you out. 

"Please," you rasp. "Please, please, I can't–"

Chan shakes his head, smiling. "Oh, but baby, I thought you wanted to cum?" 

"I do," you whine. "Want to so bad but 's too much. Too much, Channie, please–"

"No. Shut up and cum, princess," the grit in his voice is back. "Cum on Jisung's cock. Be good for us."

That's all it takes for you to snap. You let out a broken cry as another orgasm rocks through your body. It's even more intense than the others, pulling all of your muscles taut so you sit up before slumping back into Chan's arms. You barely register the way your hands flex uselessly above your head, writhing in Chan's grip. You can only vaguely feel Seungmin kissing your cheek, whispering little encouragements in your ear, telling you how good you are and how pretty you look when you cum.

And then Jisung is grunting, snapping his hips against yours one last time before spilling into you. Your walls spasm around him as he cums, milking him dry and causing you both to whine into the air.

In typical Jisung fashion, he's still rutting up into you after you're both well past overstimulation. The pressure in your cunt throbs throughout your body, tears springing into your eyes. You're very close to abandoning the little bit of pride you have and begging him to stop.

It turns out you don't need to, because as if on cue, Jisung finally pulls out and Seungmin lets go of your legs, standing up. You nearly sob at the loss of his gentle contact, so you don't even notice he's taking off his clothes until he's standing where Jisung was, hands gripping the soft skin of your thighs to hold you open. 

"Aw, baby," he says softly. He runs a hand up your leg. "You did so well."

You pout, a sob bubbling in your throat when you realize their plan now. They're gonna drag as many orgasms out of you as they can, overstimulation be damned. The thought makes your clit throb, and that alone makes you whine. It's all too much.

Despite knowing you're already so wet and lax and malleable, Seungmin reaches down to rub at your clit in an attempt to open you up. 

"Min," you cry, squirming at his touch. Your cunt feels tender, and even though the first set of tears are long dried up on your cheeks, fresh ones start to come. "Minnie–"

"Shhh. It's okay, angel."

His words are gentle and reassuring, but when his eyes catch yours, all you see is darkness.

Seungmin's gentle dominance has a limit. He doesn't get all stern and mean like Chan, or desperate like Jisung, but there's only so long he can last before that other, darker part of him surfaces, the one that gets off on hurting you, on seeing you in pain and feeling good from it. You can tell by the look in his eyes that this is the part of him you'll be dealing with.

When he finally sinks his cock inside you, it's slow, and the moan that he lets out vibrates through his length and right into you. Your neck seems to give up, dropping you right back down in Chan's lap less than gracefully. It gives him better access to you, and he leans immediately to attach his mouth to yours. He alternates between soft kisses and hard bites that will surely bruise in the morning.

Seungmin is only a bit longer than Jisung, but he's so damn girthy. Every tiny thrust he rocks into you sends shivers down your spine. Your skin feels like it's on fire and you're not even kissing Chan back, basically panting into his open mouth.

"Prop her up, Chan," Seungmin grits out. "Wanna watch her while she cries."

He gives you one final peck, and then the hand that's still holding your wrists lets go. It takes a second, then both hands are under you, lifting you up off the mattress until you're sat up on his lap with his chest against your back. He crosses your wrists against your chest and holds them in one hand, and then the other snakes up and finds your throat. His hand is way bigger than Seungmin's, and he's not as gentle when he squeezes and forces you to look back at him.

He doesn't look mad, or even turned on. He's smiling at you, like you're a particularly good puppy. "Good girl. Gonna give us a big one, yeah?”

You barely have a moment to understand what he's implying before you feel a hand on your clit. Both of Seungmin's hands are occupied, so you're not sure why it surprises you to see that it's Jisung's deft fingers on you. He's standing behind Seungmin, one hand on him and the other on you.

It feels like your eyes are bulging out of your head. The touch is gentle, but it still feels like you're being hit with lightning bolts. You're too spent to even buck up at the contact.

"Oh my God," you choke. "Oh, oh, I–"

“That's it,” Chan purrs when you cum again. He kisses whatever skin is closest to his mouth, his fingers gripping your jaw. Your head feels light, the only thing keeping you grounded to the bed are their hands on you. You feel like you're going to faint, and Seungmin's eyes are only egging you on.

Your body trembles so violently, Seungmin is forced to pause in his motions to hold your knees and keep your legs from buckling in. Your vision is blurry, but you can see Jisung has a steady grip on Seungmin's hair, effectively holding him in place.

"Good girl," he breathes, those big brown eyes trained on your face. "You take him so well."

His words send shivers down your spine. Jisung is always more coherent and in control after an orgasm. You know if Seungmin was today's focus, Jisung would likely be spitting all kinds of nasty, filthy words in his ear, but his gaze is fixed on you. All it takes to get you going is a good stare.

He taps at your clit with his free hand. You jump, moaning loudly at the contact, your back arching off Chan's chest and into Seungmin's body.

"She's good. Keep going," Jisung murmurs, pulling his eyes away from yours to look at Seungmin. He pulls a little at the hair on the nape of his neck, causing Seungmin's cock to jump inside you.

They work in tandem. Jisung's hand keeps circling your clit in the same soft rhythm, and you're not sure how but it's making you even wetter and more loose. You're a mess of moans, not knowing whose name to scream when they all have their hands on you. It's dizzying in the best way. 

Seungmin has started rolling his hips into you with more vigor, the soft sound of skin slapping skin filling the room. The dark shroud over his eyes is back as he stares down at you. "Feels good doesn't it," he grunts. "Look at your little cunt fluttering open for me like a good slut."

You feel another sob bubble out of you, this one accompanied by tears, but it dies in your throat when Chan's grip on you gets even tighter. All you can do is pout and whine.

"Aw, look at the little crybaby." Seungmin starts to fuck into you in earnest, his own moans getting higher in pitch. You can tell by the way Jisung's grip in his hair tightens that he's close. "C'mon angel. You're being so good, you can take it."

"Minnie," you rasp, barely able to speak. "Please–"

"I said take it." He’s looking down, watching where your cunt is sucking him in with each thrust. He thrusts into you particularly hard, and your entire body lurches forward, causing you to gasp. "And if you can't, you know what to say. You know your word."

You do. Somehow, under all the begging and pleading, you're actually insanely giddy with want. It's all part of the little game you play, so you just pout pathetically at Seungmin as his hips snap harder into yours.

"She's not gonna say it," Chan sing-songs. He uses the hand on your throat to tilt your head to the side, giving him perfect access to more of you. He nips at your skin. "She likes being treated like this. Like a little toy."

It's all too much. Every inch of you is on fire, the room feels like it's a thousand degrees. Chan's mouth on your neck, Seungmin's cock deep in your cunt, and Jisung's fingers–

It's like something snaps.

A knot you didn't even realize was in your stomach explodes and your vision goes white. It's an orgasm unlike anything you've experienced before. Your brain completely melts, your hearing dulls, and you can feel the drool running down your chin. You feel like you're floating and drowning all at the same time. 

"Oh shit," you hear Seungmin groan. Your cunt is spasming around him. His thrusts become harder, sloppy. "God, fuck–"

He cums hard inside of you, hips jerking as he chases the aftershocks. You've gone completely limp, barely able to move at all as Chan continues to bite at your neck.

The hand on Seungmin's shoulder drops. "That's so hot," Jisung mutters, almost to himself. He's lost some of his in-control voice. "Wow, baby, you should be bratty more often.”

If you could see straight, you'd probably laugh at that.

Seungmin pulls out slowly, and when the head of his cock leaves you, you let out a tiny mewl. You're overstimulated to the point that you're numb. Seungmin smiles softly as he rubs the inside of your thigh.

"Oh, sweetheart, I know. It's a lot. But you're being so good for us.  I think it's Chan's turn though, hm? Wanna make him feel good?"

"Give her a minute," Jisung chides. You hear a sharp intake of breath and you know he's likely yanked on Seungmin's hair again. "She's about to pass out."

You can feel your limbs slowly returning to you, the fog clearing in your head. When Chan moves the hand from your throat, you breathe deeply, taking in gulps of air as moves his hand down to rub against your tummy. Jisung and Seungmin are bickering somewhere around you, and you let yourself relax in Chan's hold.

"Do you want to finish now, princess?" His lips are warm against your ear. "We can be done. You don't have to take me.”

It's a very tempting offer, especially with the way you can hardly remember what day it is. You could easily take it and call this all done. The four of you have almost certainly been at this for more than an hour now, and they've wrung six orgasms out of you. They're sweet enough to offer to call it a night.

But then you think about Chan, and how, despite being the reason this all started, he's barely done anything. Hasn't tasted you, hasn't shoved his cock down your throat– He's usually not one for letting go until you've milked him dry at least twice, and you can't stand the idea of him having that buzz under his skin all night. 

So you shake your head.

"No?" Chan laughs, almost like he's surprised. "Really? You still want to finish with me? Are you sure, princess?”

He's giving you the same offer he gave you earlier. An out. Making your comfort the first priority. The thought alone is what gives you the strength to nod against him.

"'m sure, Channie."

"Oh, fuck, okay." His grip around you goes a little slack as he moves, pulling you away from his lap and  laying you back into your bed. He leans over you and presses a gentle kiss against your mouth. It feels like he's thanking you, almost.

When he pulls away, his eyes are sparkling. You want to look into them for hours.

He barks something at Jisung and Seungmin, and the bickering stops immediately. You hear shuffling around you before Seungmin takes Chan's empty space and Jisung appears at your side. They're pressing soft kisses to your face and praising you as Chan works his shorts and boxers down. When his cock springs free, he lets out a hiss of relief.

The sight of him alone makes anxiety rear its ugly head. You start to wonder if maybe you should've taken the opportunity to tap out, or if maybe you should use your safeword, but then Jisung is grabbing your hand and pressing kisses against it, squeezing you and keeping you tethered to the present.

"You can do it, pretty girl," he murmurs in your ear, breath fanning over your cheek. "You did so good for us, just a little longer."

Chan catches your eyes, and he smiles again, reassuring. His hand runs down your body and grabs one of your legs, lifting it and hooking your calf over his shoulder. "Gonna go easy, baby. I know it's a lot."

Your stomach is filled with butterflies, and your hands are shaking a little bit when he ruts himself up against you. You're so open from the others that when his head catches on your entrance, it nearly slips inside.  

Your back arches as you moan, and then his cock brushes against your entrance with purpose and it feels like you're going to split right open. He rocks into you again, pushing in the barest inch and pulling right back out. You whine and shift your hips in an attempt to escape.

"Come on, be a good girl now, princess." His voice has gotten lower, lust taking over. "Relax.”

His eyes flit up from where you're connected to look at you, and in one move he pushes right inside of you.

It doesn't hurt– you're way too wet and open for that. It does feel like your stomach is being forced open, however. Like his cock is pressing against all of your internal organs. You arch up off of Seungmin's lap and he pulls you back to him quickly.

Chan groans, bottoming out inside you. His eyes are closed as he lets himself bask in the sensation, hips rocking shallowly. You're thankful that he doesn't move immediately, but even the barest amount of movement feels like too much, like you'll come apart at any second.

You barely feel it when Jisung slips your hand into his. It takes you a minute to realize it's because your brain has been reduced to nothing. Your body has melted into the bed, your muscles are lax, and there's an emptiness in your brain filled with nothing but static and Chan's name. You don't think about anything at all, can't form a single coherent thought. You don't feel the kisses on your throat or the way Seungmin's hands have taken residence on your stomach. The only thing you feel is the overwhelming pressure in your cunt as Chan slowly pulls out, leaving just the tip, before pushing all the way back in.

He builds a rhythm quickly. Seungmin is holding you tight to his body, as though he's scared you might float away, and you appreciate it because it gives you another sensation to focus on. Your head is lolled against his shoulder, eyes rolled back into your head so far all you see is white.

The sound of Chan fucking into you is absolutely obscene, a mixture of your juices and the remnants of the cum still leaking from your hole. He fucks you slow, but hard, snapping his hips into yours so hard it almost feels like you might get a bruise on your thigh.

Jisung is watching with hungry eyes from your side. He's not touching you at all anymore, too engrossed in the scene unfolding to do much else other than stare with his jaw slacked. Seungmin takes over for him.

"That's it," he breathes. "That's it angel, look at you." He moves the hand on your stomach and lets his thumb rub circles on your clit. You feel like you're going to pass out. You don't get time to beg him to stop before you feel that same hand move to your mouth, and two fingers push past your lips.

"Here, sweetheart," he breathes, eyes fixed on your lips as you suck his fingers. "That's you on my fingers, baby. Isn't it good?"

You moan around his hand, head spinning both at the taste of yourself and the intrusion of Seungmin's fingers in your mouth. He's not fucking them into you with any kind of rhythm, just shoving them in there until you're dribbling around his hand. He hums happily when he pushes in more and makes you gag, kissing away the tears the spill over.

Chan grunts, head falling back. "Min, again, please, she just– fuck, she–"

Seungmin doesn't need to be told twice. He repeats the motion again, making sure his fingers go far enough so you're choking around him. This time, when you splutter and gag, you can feel it when you clench down on Chan and his cock pulses in response.

"Oh my God," he moans, thrusting into you again. "Oh my god, baby, you're so good. You're doing so fucking good–"

Between the movement of his hips and the feeling of Seungmin's fingers down your throat, you're not quite sure you're still on this plane of existence. Everything is spinning around you, your cunt is throbbing, you can hear Jisung moaning somewhere, but you don't know from what.

You can feel Seungmin's lips pressed against your forehead as his fingers fuck your mouth, your eyes rolling back into your head again. You're so lightheaded, so far gone, you can barely remember your name. 

It's when Chan starts to thrust faster that you come back to your body with a jolt, mind filling with white hot heat. The pleasure has long since lost it's edge, and you're a moaning, writhing, teary mess again. The coil in your stomach starts to build for the seventh time, and you're pretty sure your brain has gone empty. The only thing you're able to focus on is Chan. Chan, Chan, Chan.

"Almost done, angel." You register a kiss pressed to the corner of your mouth, and then another on your forehead. You think the voice belongs to Seungmin. Maybe, if the way he eases his hand out of your mouth is any indication.

Nothing is making sense anymore. It all feels like you're having an out-of-body experience.

Chan's hips falter, and his hand slides up to your throat again, but he doesn't squeeze. Just rests it there as his orgasm approaches, hips snapping against you at an erratic rhythm.

"Sweetheart." His eyes flutter open with strained effort, but they remain locked on yours. "Can you give us one more, princess? Hm? Can I get you to cum on me too, please?"

There's a desperation in his voice that makes your body feel hot. You want to tell him yes, that you're close, so so close, but all that comes out is a weak noise that you're not even certain you made. 

Seungmin seems to get it though, because he slips his fingers down between your legs, finding your clit again. He rolls it between his fingers with one hand while his other reaches up and settles on your jaw. You feel Jisung's tongue flick over your nipple and your world draws to a pinpoint.

Chan curses above you, fucking into you at an almost punishing pace. "Yes, baby, let go for us. That's it. We got you."

It feels like someone's stuck a vacuum in your brain with the incoherent way you're thinking. The sound of his voice saying your name in that desperate tone is all it takes, and suddenly you're floating out of your body, ears ringing as the pressure inside you bursts. Your eyes roll back and the clinging remnants of an orgasm wash through your body. It feels more like an aftershock. You're only vaguely aware of the way Chan moans, loud and throaty, when he finally spills into you.

It takes a couple minutes before the two of you come back down to earth. You can't move, and even though you know Seungmin is holding you tight, it feels like you might drift right off the mattress and float up into the clouds.

Chan pulls out slowly, and you shudder when you feel a trickle of his cum leaking from your hole. It's not long before your eyes droop shut from pure exhaustion. You think you might pass out right on the spot.

The room gets kicked into gear pretty quickly after that. From what you can tell in the hazy state you're in, someone grabs a wet cloth to wipe you down with while someone else finds you a new t-shirt (and panties this time). They dress you like you're a doll, maneuvering your limbs and telling you you're good, you're so good, they love you so much.

Then you're scooped up into a pair of arms while the distant sounds of sheets being pulled off the bed floats up to you. They take you out of the room.

"You did so good for us, baby." The owner of the arms whispers against your ear. From the cadence in their tone you're pretty sure it's Jisung. "You were such a good girl for us, sweetheart. We're so proud of you."

You think you nod against him, but you can't be sure. You hear him kick a door open, and then he sets you down on a bed and you register Seungmin and Chan coming in.

"Okay," Jisung murmurs, going through his aftercare list out loud. "Fresh bed, fresh clothes, we got her some water."

You feel the bed dip behind you. "We got it, but she's gotta drink it, though," Chan chimes. There's fondness in his voice as he scoots closer to you. "Come here, baby."

You let yourself go limp, and a content smile plasters on your face as your boys fuss over you and make sure you're comfortable. They're so gentle, despite what just transpired, and they all take turns pressing kisses against your head, your cheeks, your nose.

When you've all settled into the bed, you feel three pairs of arms around you, holding you close, and you feel insanely lucky for all of it. You snuggle deeper into someone's chest, humming absentmindedly in that dreamy, fucked-out headspace.

"Thank you," you mumble, pressing a kiss to whoever you're snuggled against. You think it's Jisung from the way they nuzzle into your cheek.

"Of course, princess," Chan replies, his voice vibrating against your back. You feel his lips press against your temple, and you smile again. "You're our good girl, even when you're a brat. We'll always take care of you.”

You don't bother replying, simply allowing yourself to sink back into that fuzzy state. You're about to slip out of consciousness when you feel Jisung's nose against your cheek.

"You really do need to be bratty more often, though."

You hear a dull thump as Seungmin smacks the back of his head, and you let their hushed bickering be the lullaby you need to lull you into sleep.

[caitified]

Hihi really love your fics. Its my first ask haha. Was maybe thinking if you could do a fic of CC and a teammate, teammate can be either a rookie/vet but is kinda cold to CC (really just kinda awkward with new people). When CC gets shoved roughly on court, reader gets all up in the opps face and protects CC and their relationship deepens from there?

Thank you!

rookie season

caitlin clark x reader

warnings:none, i got carried away so you’re getting their entire backstory sorry 🙊

the first time you and caitlin clark really crossed paths was in the championship game during your senior year at lsu. she was the face of iowa basketball, and you could tell from the moment you saw her on the court that she had something special. she was confident, fierce, and competitive—just like you. but in the end, your team pulled ahead, winning the title in front of a packed crowd.

as the final buzzer sounded, you couldn’t help but catch her eye. there was a mutual respect, but there was also that playful rivalry. on the court, you were opponents, but off it, you could tell you had a little bit of a thing for each other. you knew that fire in her eyes. it mirrored your own.

after the game, you shot her a quick text. “close, but not close enough. see you soon clark,” you wrote, the taunting light in your words meant to sting just a little. but it was all in good fun.

caitlin stared at the message for a long time, a frown tugging at her lips. she was already upset about the loss, but this—this was a challenge, and she couldn’t ignore it. she hated losing, but she hated being underestimated more. her fingers hovered over the screen for a few seconds before typing out a response. “i’ll get you next time. count on it.”

the rivalry continued through the years, even as you went your separate ways. after graduation, you entered the wnba, getting drafted to the indiana fever, and had an incredible rookie season. caitlin, meanwhile, went on to dominate her final year at iowa. but despite her skill and talent, she couldn’t overcome south carolina in the national championship. when she lost, you couldn’t resist—sending her a cheeky text. “looks like you came up short again. better luck next time.”

you expected her to get a laugh out of it. it was playful, just like before. but caitlin’s reaction wasn’t what you expected. she stared at the message, hurt more than she’d care to admit. the loss had stung, and your words felt like salt in the wound. still, she didn’t reply. she couldn’t. not yet.

then came the 2024 wnba draft. when caitlin’s name was called and the indiana fever picked her, now you were on the same team. and things only got more awkward from there.

every time caitlin interacted with other players, like katie lou or aliyah, she noticed something. you were always friendly, always smiling, always making an effort to bond with them. it was easy. natural. but with her, it was different. you barely spoke to her beyond the bare minimum, and every time she tried to start a conversation, you gave short, one-word responses. it confused her.

“why doesn’t she like me?” caitlin thought, watching you laugh with katie lou as the team played cards in the lounge after practice. “i don’t get it.”

every time you teased or joked around with your other teammates, caitlin felt the sting of your coldness. it was like she was invisible to you, even though you were teammates now. it made her question herself. was it because she lost that championship? because of how things had gone down in college? did you still think of her as just an opponent? the thought ate at her.

then came the game against one of the toughest teams in the league. caitlin had been getting pushed around, more than once, and the tension on the court was palpable. you could see her jaw clench, her shoulders stiffen. when the opposing player—a notoriously aggressive forward—got in caitlin’s face, pushing her and swearing, caitlin didn’t back down. but it was obvious she was starting to lose control.

you didn’t even think about it. you just reacted. before anyone could stop you, you were between them, your body protecting hers. you stood tall, staring the other player down, your voice cold but firm. “you don’t get to do that to her,” you said, the words leaving no room for argument.

caitlin stood behind you, a mixture of shock and gratitude on her face. she didn’t expect you to step in. she’d always been the one to fight her battles, but something in the way you had defended her made her heart race. it was different. personal. and for the first time, she realized just how much she needed that support from you.

after the game, when everything had calmed down, caitlin found herself alone in the locker room, her thoughts swirling. she hadn’t expected you to protect her like that. it made her feel something deep, something she couldn’t put into words. and she wanted to know more. wanted to understand why you acted the way you did around her, why you kept your distance.

you were sitting by your locker, wiping down your sneakers when she walked up to you. the silence between you two was thick.

“why didn’t you say anything before?” caitlin asked, her voice soft but edged with curiosity. “you’ve been so… cold with me. i don’t get it. i mean, you’re nice to everyone else, but with me… you act like i’m invisible. i just wanted to know why.”

you looked up at her, meeting her eyes for the first time with something softer in your gaze. the rivalry between you two wasn’t there anymore. not really. “i didn’t know how to be around you,” you admitted, your voice quieter than you intended. “in college, you were the one i had to beat. and then you got drafted here, and… it felt weird. like i didn’t know how to treat you.”

caitlin blinked, processing your words. “you didn’t know how to treat me?” she repeated, her voice catching slightly. she had hoped for something else, but hearing you say it made her understand. maybe she had been too focused on trying to prove herself to you. “so, you’re not… mad at me?” she asked, her heart pounding in her chest.

“no,” you said with a small smile. “not mad. just… confused. i didn’t know if we could be something else after everything. i guess i wasn’t ready to let go of the rivalry.”

caitlin let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding, her shoulders relaxing. she smiled, a genuine one this time. “maybe it’s time we let it go.”

from that moment on, things changed. you and caitlin started to talk more, really talk. you found common ground, sharing laughs, teasing each other, and slowly, the barriers you had built up started to crumble. the more you got to know her, the more you realized there was more to her than the fiery competitor you once knew. and maybe there was a lot more between you two than you had ever expected.

not me lying and saying i was gonna post a few days ago. i’m so sorry i’ve been so busy. enjoy. REQUESTS R OPEN

part two? let me know

[mssorceressupreme]

Working Late | F.W

———

Pairing: Fred Weasley x reader

Summary: you got a new job at Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes, and you’ve developed a strong attraction to one of your new bosses.

Warnings: boss/employee, age gap (ish), making out, shy reader (not a warning lol but yk). Actually it's kind of a sweet fluffy-ish one, might make a pt 2. with more smut tho idk

———

It all started with butterbeer. Ginny Weasley and you had decided to meet at The Three Broomsticks for a long-overdue catch-up. The amber liquid foamed in your mugs as you laughed about school, gossiped about classmates, and vented about our worries. But your laughter faltered as you stirred my butterbeer idly.

"I just don’t know what I’m going to do after Hogwarts," You confessed, keeping your gaze fixed on the swirling foam. "Everyone seems to have their plans lined up, and I’m… stuck. No job, no prospects, nothing meaningful."

Ginny cocked her head, her eyes sparkling mischievously. "You know, my brothers could use some extra help at their shop. You’ve heard of Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes, right?"

Your heart skipped. Of course, you’d heard of it. And of Fred.

"I don’t know your brothers that well," You mumbled, cheeks warming. Ginny waved you off, grinning.

"Doesn’t matter. I reckon they’ll like you, and I’ll put in a good word."

Unbeknownst to her, the mention of Fred sent your heart into overdrive. He was everything you weren’t—loud, confident, and irresistibly charming, well you had your own charms but his was just effortless. Not to mention your stupid infatuation with him.

You barely spoke to the twins at school, your shyness building a wall you were too scared to scale. Besides it kept you safe, from unwanted conversations, judgement and meaningless social interactions.

Still, Ginny’s determination left you little room to argue.

“Uh sure, thanks Gin.” You forced a smile, unsure of whether seeing Fred, let alone being in the same compound as him would help with your infatuation. This forced proximity might be the end for you.

It’s time to let go of him and move on, you mentally slapped yourself. Besides, he was a couple of years older than you, no way he’d go for you right?

———

The following week, you stood outside the shop at 8 a.m., shivering slightly despite the warmth of the sun.

To your surprise you actually got the job, Ginny managed to secure you a position. And after a quick interview with George last week, you found yourself rewarded the position of becoming an official employee of the store.

Great, you had misread the opening time—Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes didn’t open until 9. Just as you debated whether to leave and return later, a deep, groggy voice startled you.

"You’re early."

You spun around to find Fred Weasley standing behind you. He was taller than you remembered, his fiery hair slightly tousled, his jaw more defined. His eyes, sharp and glinting with curiosity, locked onto yours, and your stomach flipped.

"I, uh, thought you opened at eight," You stammered, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks.

Fred smirked, his voice still husky from sleep. "Well, early bird gets the worms. Come on in, I can give you a quick tour."

He unlocked the door, holding it open for me. "Ladies first."

———

Inside, Fred gave you a whirlwind tour, his tone surprisingly serious as he explained the tasks. Stocking shelves, organising merchandise, assisting customers—it all seemed simple enough until we began working side by side.

"Here, let me show you," Fred said, reaching over your to grab a box from the top shelf. His arm brushed yours, sending a wave of excitement through your body.

The proximity was electrifying, and you found focus wavering. “These are our latest addition, love potions. We have yet to stock them on the display there,” He leaned in closer to you, pointing to the pink display near the entrance, “See that one, the pink stand there.”

“Do we get to sample one of the potions?” You teased, wanting to ease the tension.

He paused, turning to you, “Have someone on your mind for these eh?”

Your eyes grew wide, “Oh no no, no one at all, just wondering.” You forced a smile, mentally face palming yourself.

He smirked, then continued explaining to which you nodded slowly, listening attentively to everything he instructed.

“George was supposed to help bring these boxes up to my office but since he’s not here yet, ‘spose you could help bring them up.” Fred gestured to some boxes by the door, newly delivered packages.

“Yes sir.” You replied hastily, making your way to the boxes.

“Fred.” He chuckled softly, “Just Fred would do.”

One by one, you carried what seemed like never ending inventory into his office upstairs for him to stock check them, making sure the quality was up to par.

Finally, it was the last box’s turn to be brought up, as you were carefully walking up the stairs, the entrance swung open and George ran in, "Oi Fred, Ginny said Y/N would be starting today, have you showed her-"

Upon hearing your name, you whipped your head around, missing a step in the process, and tripping right outside Fred's office. The box fell on the ground, and out spewed the items, clinking and clanking on the floor. It was some mini metal boxes with assorted treats inside of them. "Oh my goodness! I'm so sorry!"

The items scattered across the floor, and you crouched down hastily, picking them up one by one. Fred was in his office, rushing to your aid as soon as he heard the noise.

"Accidents happen all the time, don’t worry about it," Fred said, kneeling to help. Upon picking the items up, your hands touched, grazing each other softly and you froze.

His eyes locked onto yours, intense and searching. The air thickened with something unspoken, something undeniable, before a loud voice interrupted you. "Oh hey guys, sorry I was late, was caught finding the keys to me' office." George apologised, he saw the two of you kneeling on the ground, giving Fred a quick glance before darting towards you.

"Y/N! We meet again, I trust Freddie has shown you around. Come on down when you're done yeah, the shop's opening soon." George instructed before heading downstairs.

As the day wore on, you noticed whispers among some customers—girls your age, glaring enviously.

"She only got the job because she’s Ginny’s friend," one of them muttered.

"Why is she the only employee? If I had known, I would've applied too...obviously for George." The other one giggled.

"Whatever, she's not even that pretty, they probably hired her out of pity."

Fred happened to overhear their conversations, and his eyes shot daggers at the girls, but forced himself to remain calm, they were after all his customers. "Actually," he interjected smoothly, "she’s here because she’s a hard worker and great at what she does."

His words left you stunned. Had he been paying that much attention to you? You pretended to be busy with another task, acting as though you hadn't heard a word they said.

A few hours passed and boy, you were already tired, legs exhuasted from standing all day and arms from all the reaching, stocking, grabbing and the likes. How on earth did the twins manage to do this everyday, you wondered.

While restocking on a ladder, a mischievous kid aimed a Decoy Detonator at you, hoping to get trial some pranks with the samples provided.

The explosion erupted in your face, colourful sparkling fireworks crackling around you, causing you to loose your balance, "Merlin!" You panicked as you slipped, falling off the ladder. Before you could hit the ground, you felt a strong pair of arms wrapped around your waist.

His familiar scent filled you, it was him. Fred.

You gasped, gripping his forearms. He pulled you upright, his hold lingering for a moment too long.

"You alright?" he asked, his voice low, his breath warm against your ear.

You nodded, but your pounding heart felt like it would bust right out of you at the rate it was beating.

Once he made sure you were alright, you carried on. Though the rest of the day was a bit dull as Fred was in his office doing paperwork, whilst George stayed downstairs entertaining the customers.

You could't help but think back to the situation moments before, the way he held you, his scent, his voice, Merlin this was not helping your crush at all. And it did not help that he looked so handsome in that all black suit he was wearing, ugh your mind began to wonder, but that did not hold you back from delivering great customer service.

"Thanks Y/N, have a good day!" A kid waved at you before leaving, and you waved back grinning.

"Enjoy your new gizmo!" You smiled with awe, among the devils, there were also the sweetest most angel-like children you came across in the store.

The next few days flew by, you quickly adjusted to working at the shop, your kind demeanour welcomed guests and made them feel right at home.

You barely saw Fred as he was buried in work, constantly in his office, but you learnt to live with it. After all, you were here to gain experience, not date your boss.

One particular night, you stayed back in the stockroom as there had been a surplus of inventory, and since you had no plans, you decided to help out as much as you could, sorting out new arrivals for the next week.

"Working late?" a familiar voice asked, leaning casually against the doorframe.

You shrugged, smiling. "Just wanted to get ahead."

He frowned slightly, feeling guilty that you had been overworking yourself. "How bout a reward then, say, dinner?"

"Dinner?" Your heart soared, but his next words tempered it.

"Just a casual, y'know thank you dinner."

Still, you agreed. ___

You walked to The Three Broomsticks together, you felt a bit upset that he kept a good distance from you, though he thought it was respectful, a part of you wished he stood closer.

At the restaurant, he pulled out your chair, playfully grinning, "M'lady." He teased.

"And what would the lovely couple like to have for dinner tonight?" The waiter asked and, as you were about to deny that you were a couple, Fred played it off and went with it.

"I'll have the steak and chips, and she'll have the fish and chips."

"Amazing, it'll take 10-15 minutes, have a lovely evening guys. What a beautiful couple you two make." The waiter complimented, before taking our menu's off us.

"You did not." You chuckled with disbelief.

"Did what?" Fred defended himself, raising his hands.

"Why didn't you say we weren't a couple." You laughed, shaking your head.

"And embarrass the poor lad? Not a chance, besides, what's wrong with that." He shrugged nonchalantly at the last bit, and you bit back a smile.

After dinner, Fred insisted he walk you home for safety reasons, "Can't have my best employee not getting home safely." He insisted.

"I'm your only employee." You retort, laughing softly.

"And the best one at that." He added.

The moment you reached home, he paused outside your door. For a moment, his gaze dipped to your lips, and you held your breath. Could this be it, the moment you waited for.

But he stepped back, murmuring, "Goodnight." Flashing a small smile before he headed home once you were inside.

---

The next day, you wore a skirt to work, wanting to feel more free, plus it was way too hot to be wearing jeans or pants. But of course, there was the underlying reason of wanting to catch a certain someone's attention.

As you arrive, George greeted you, his playful cheerful self did not go unnoticed. Fred however was quieter, sterner, and noticeably distracted. He brushed past you more often, his touches lingering but you shrugged it off, thinking you were imagining things.

"Hey Y/N, Fred's asking for you, he's up in his office." George informed you, while you were rearranging one of the messy shelves, you nodded and made your way to Fred.

You found him alone in his office, staring out the window.

"Fred?" You knocked softly.

He turned, his eyes dark and unreadable. "Shut the door."

You obeyed, suddenly nervous.

"Why are you wearing a skirt?"

"I thought it would be appropriate, given how incredibly scorching today's weather is." You replied, truthfully.

"Merlin, you don't know what you've been doing to me as of late." Fred sat on one of the leather couches in his office, rubbing his temples as he did so.

"I'm sorry, I can go change if you want-"

"No. It looks good on you, come here." He ordered, and you slowly made your way towards the couch where he sat, standing in front of him. "Bloody hell, you don't know do ya?" He eyed you up and down, his gaze exploring your figure.

"I’ve been trying to ignore this," he continued, "But I can’t..."

"Ignore what?" You whispered, your pulse racing.

"You."

His confession hung in the air, heavy and intoxicating.

"Fred, you have no idea how long I've been waiting for you." You finally confessed. "Ever since Hogwarts...I just...figured I wasn't your type."

"You think I haven't noticed you before? Everytime you came to the Burrow, seeing you in the halls, always hanging with my sister. The wrong Weasley, dare I say. You have no idea how much I wanted to come in and sweep you off your feet. But you know, you, always into your books, always in your own world, I just-...and now seeing you again, Merlin, it's like you've got me wrapped around your finger again."

You responded by closing the distance, sitting on his lap, straddling him which earned a groan from him. Immediately, his lips captured yours in a kiss that was fiery, desperate, and everything you'd dreamed of.

You melted into him, your fingers tangling in his hair as his hands gripped your waist. His arousal was growing beneath you and you could feel yourself getting soaked just from this, all that pent up tension was getting released.

"I’ve wanted this for so long," You admitted breathlessly.

He smiled, his forehead resting against yours. "Me too love."

For the first time, the tension between you broke, replaced by something infinitely sweeter. ___ A/N: Might do a part 2, with more smut? Or how it's like at WWW now that they've established they like each other? Not sure yet hehe

(Update: check out Pt 2 here!! 🥰 )

[cherrylibby]

Unspoken Words

The Hard Deck was alive with the usual chaos—a mix of laughter, the low hum of conversation, and the occasional clink of billiard balls. But Jake couldn’t focus on any of it. His eyes were locked on you, sitting at the bar with a drink in hand, seemingly lost in thought.

He sighed as Bradley’s voice buzzed in his ear, growing more frustrated by Jake’s lack of attention.

"I’m listening," Jake lied smoothly, his gaze darting back to you, his smirk deepening when he caught you stealing a glance his way.

Bradley groaned. "No, you’re not. You’re staring at her again."

Jake ignored him, already halfway to standing as he grabbed his beer and started toward you.

You noticed him immediately, and a wave of annoyance washed over you. "Great," you muttered under your breath, pretending not to see him as he slid up beside you.

"Hey, sweetheart," Jake greeted casually, leaning one elbow on the bar as he turned his full attention to you.

"What do you want, Jake?" you sighed, barely sparing him a glance.

"Ouch." He chuckled, placing a hand over his chest in mock offense. "Not even a hello? You’re killing me here."

"Hello," you said flatly, turning back to your drink. "Goodbye."

Jake chuckled, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes—something he quickly masked with his usual charm. "You know, you don’t have to play hard to get. I already know you like me."

You turned to him, an incredulous laugh escaping you. "Excuse me?"

He smirked. "Oh, come on. Don’t act like you don’t. I’ve seen the way you look at me when you think I’m not paying attention."

"Wow," you deadpanned. "The ego on you is truly something to behold."

Jake laughed, but the sound was softer this time, almost vulnerable. "You say that, but you’re still talking to me."

You rolled your eyes, setting your drink down with a little more force than necessary. "Only because you won’t leave me alone."

He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a more serious tone. "What if I told you there’s a reason for that?"

"Let me guess," you said, crossing your arms. "Because you think you’re irresistible and I’m just another name on your list of conquests?"

Jake’s smirk faltered, and for a moment, something raw flashed across his face. "You really think that’s all you are to me?" he asked, his voice quieter now.

"Isn’t it?" you shot back. "You flirt with everyone, Jake. Why would I be any different?"

"Because you are different!" he snapped, surprising you with the sudden intensity in his tone. "God, do you have any idea what you do to me? I can’t even sit in a room with you without losing my damn mind."

You stared at him, momentarily stunned by his outburst. "Jake, I…"

"No, let me finish," he interrupted, stepping closer. "I flirt because it’s easy. Because it keeps things light and stops me from getting in too deep. But with you… it’s not easy. It’s terrifying."

"Why?" you asked, your voice softer now.

"Because you matter," he admitted, his voice breaking slightly. "Because you’re the first person who’s ever made me feel like this, and I don’t know what to do with it."

"Jake…" you started, but he wasn’t done.

"I know I’ve screwed up," he continued, his eyes searching yours. "I know I’ve given you every reason to think I don’t care. But I do. More than I can put into words. And yeah, maybe I flirt too much, and maybe I’m an idiot, but I’m your idiot if you’ll have me."

Your heart ached at the vulnerability in his voice, but your walls were still up. "And what about the brunette? Or the one before her? How do I know this isn’t just another game to you?"

Jake exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. "They didn’t mean anything. None of them did. I was just… trying to distract myself. From you. From how much I want you and how scared I am of messing this up."

"You’re scared?" you asked, a hint of disbelief in your tone.

"Terrified," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "Because you’re not like anyone else. You see through all my bullshit, and you still manage to get under my skin. And the thought of losing you before I even have you? It kills me."

The air between you felt heavy, charged with unspoken tension. Jake stepped closer, his hands hesitating before settling on your hips. "I’m not asking you to trust me right away," he said quietly. "But I’m asking for a chance. A real one. Let me prove to you that I’m serious."

You looked into his eyes, seeing nothing but sincerity. "Jake…"

"Please," he whispered, his voice cracking slightly. "Say something before I embarrass myself even more."

You took a deep breath, your resolve wavering. "You're such an idiot," you whispered, your voice barely audible. Before you could second-guess yourself, you leaned in, pressing your lips to his.

Jake's hands found their way to your waist, gripping gently at first, then with more certainty as he kissed you back with fervor.

His lips moved against yours with an intensity that made your heart race. When he finally pulled away, both of you were left breathless, your foreheads resting against each other.

Jake cupped your face in his hands, his touch gentle but grounding. His soft laugh broke the silence, warm and relieved. "Yeah," he murmured, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "But I'm your idiot."

For the first time, you didn’t correct him.

[hellinistical]

You asked Zayne for a Darry Ring.

wc: 1k

Morning light streamed through the frosted windows of the small café, casting a warm golden hue on the wooden floors. Outside, the world was cloaked in a blanket of white; snow dusted the rooftops and lined the branches of bare trees. A sharp chill in the air made each person who entered shiver and stamp their feet to shake off the cold.

Inside, the café was a sanctuary of warmth. The scent of freshly brewed coffee mingled with the faint aroma of cinnamon and vanilla. Soft jazz played in the background, barely audible over the gentle hum of conversation and the occasional hiss of the espresso machine.

Near the counter, a young woman in a knitted scarf and an oversized coat cupped a steaming mug of tea in her hands. Her breath fogged the rim as she leaned closer, savoring the warmth. At a corner table by the window, a man flipped through a dog-eared paperback, his gloved fingers still red from the cold.

The barista, clad in a green apron, worked methodically, their movements fluid as they crafted intricate foam art atop each latte. A line had formed, patrons clutching scarves around their necks and speaking in low, muffled tones.

Beyond the window, people bustled along the icy street, their steps brisk, their heads bowed against the wind. The café was their respite, a place where time seemed to slow, where the cold couldn't reach.

Zayne’s green eyes narrowed slightly, the confusion in his gaze giving way to faint amusement, though his expression stayed firmly unamused. His black hair, tousled by the brisk winter wind, framed his face in a way that gave him a roguish charm. The pink flush on his cheeks and the tip of his nose betrayed just how cold it was outside, though he didn’t seem to notice—or care.

He crossed his arms over his chest, leaning back in the chair and raising a single brow as if challenging you to explain yourself.

“And… you want a Darry ring, why?” he repeated, drawing out the last word as though he couldn’t quite believe the ridiculousness of your request.

Behind him, the café bustled on. The soft clinking of mugs and the gentle hum of chatter filled the air, but it all felt distant under his steady gaze. You could see the faintest hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, though he clearly wasn’t giving you the satisfaction of smiling outright.

“Well?” he prompted, his tone dry but not entirely devoid of curiosity. “I can’t wait to hear this one.”

“Because you can only get it once—” you began, trying to sound as convincing as possible.

Zayne didn’t even let you finish before cutting in, his tone laced with dry skepticism. “Which is a marketing tactic, but go on,” he said, the faintest hint of a smirk tugging at his lips now. He leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on the table, clearly enjoying himself more than he wanted to let on.

You rolled your eyes, resisting the urge to throw your scarf at him. “No, it’s not just that. It’s... special.”

“Right. Because a mass-produced, limited-edition trinket sold to a frenzy of people with fear-of-missing-out syndrome screams special.” He tilted his head, the teasing in his tone now undeniable.

“It’s not about the ring itself,” you said, your voice a little sharper. “It’s about what it represents.”

“And what does it represent? A triumph over capitalism?” Zayne quipped, raising both eyebrows now, his smirk fully formed.

You huffed, glaring at him. “Forget it. I should’ve asked someone else.”

“But you didn’t,” he said, leaning back in his chair with the satisfaction of someone who knew he’d won this round. “So I guess I’ll keep listening... if you really want me to.”

You almost groaned, the sound bubbling in your throat, but the waitress arrived at your table just in time, setting down your orders with a warm smile before disappearing into the cozy bustle of the café.

As Zayne reached for his coffee, smugness practically radiating off him, you decided to strike back. Without a word, you grabbed his mug and took a defiant sip, glaring at him over the rim.

The taste hit you instantly—an overwhelming, cloying sweetness that made your face scrunch up in reflex. It was as though someone had dissolved half a candy store into the cup. You swallowed, though it took more effort than you cared to admit, and slammed the mug back down on the table.

Zayne didn’t say a word. He didn’t have to. He simply watched you, calm and collected, his expression unchanging save for the faint sparkle of mischief in his dark eyes.

“You knew,” you accused, your voice low, the bitterness of betrayal mixing with the lingering sugar assaulting your taste buds.

“Of course I knew,” he replied smoothly, picking up the mug you had so brazenly stolen from and taking a leisurely sip. “You don’t like sweet things. And this?” He gestured to his coffee. “This is a masterpiece of sweetness. It’s art, really.”

You glared, wiping at your mouth with a napkin like it could somehow erase the taste. “You’re evil.”

“Maybe,” he mused, setting the mug down with a soft clink. “But I’m also the guy who’s going to hear more about this Darry ring nonsense. So, I guess we’re even.”

Zayne sighed, the sound soft but laced with amusement as he watched you all but chug the ice water in a desperate attempt to rid yourself of the overly sweet assault on your taste buds. He leaned back in his chair, his arms crossing lazily over his chest, a small smile playing on his lips.

“I’ll get you the Darry ring,” he said, his tone unexpectedly—though not entirely surprisingly—affectionate.

You froze mid-sip, narrowing your eyes at him suspiciously. “Really?”

“Mm-hmm.” He nodded, his smile widening slightly as he tilted his head. “I’ll even stand in line in the freezing cold if that’s what it takes. Because apparently, you’re willing to wage war over a sugar bomb just to prove a point.”

You set the glass down, still squinting at him like he’d suddenly grown a second head. “You’re not going to tease me about it the entire time?”

“Oh, no, I absolutely will,” he admitted with a low chuckle. “But I’ll still get it for you.”

Your lips twitched, caught between a smile and a frown. “You’re the worst.”

“And yet,” Zayne replied, leaning forward again and resting his chin on his hand, “here we are.”

[ch0llies]

REVIVAL | CHRIS STURNIOLO

A story in which a messy breakup lands you in your best friend’s Boston apartment a year after high school, and you find yourself face-to-face again with Christopher Sturniolo—your first love. As your paths cross again, the bitterness of how you left him still lingers, fueling every hated glance. But with your best friend dating his brother, you know is there’s no escaping Chris—or the tension that refuses to die. Is this revival destined to reignite, or will it crumble under the weight of your unresolved past?

story warning: filthy smut, angst, swearing, underage drinking, underage drug use, abusive behavior, morally skewed choices, toxic relationships, and overall mature themes. if any of this upsets you... don't read!

word count: 9.4k

CHAPTER THREE:

Two days pass in a blur of restless thoughts and half-distracted tasks. You and Ava decide to blow off the tension with some much-needed retail therapy, roaming the racks of a bustling mall. It’s easy talk at first but eventually, the conversation circles back to the night everything exploded.

“So,” Ava prods, turning a hanger in her hand, “you gonna tell me more about you and Chris making out, or are you gonna keep me in the dark forever?”

You flush, half-hiding behind a hoodie you have no intention of buying. “It just… happened,” you mumble, recalling the heated kiss and the way things nearly went further. “I was hammered. He was there. We were alone. You know.”

Ava’s grin widens, catlike. “Alone in just your panties, playing strip pong, if I recall.” She pulls a face of mock innocence. “Totally normal scenario.”

You give her a playful shove and head for the register, trying to hide the flutter in your stomach. Despite the anger you still feel toward Chris, you can’t deny the memory of that kiss sends shivers down your spine.

Later that evening, you and Ava settle into a cozy booth at a small Italian restaurant—candles flicker on each table, and the scent of garlic bread drifts through the air. Over plates of pasta, you swap stories about the week’s ups and downs. Ava mentions Matt texting her random nudes to apologize for the headboard fiasco. You roll your eyes over Chris’s radio silence, trying to focus on the tangy sauce in front of you rather than the knot in your stomach.

Midway through dinner, Ava’s phone buzzes. She glances at the screen and her eyes go wide. “Oh my God,” she breathes, “we need to get home.”

You frown, twirling spaghetti around your fork. “Why? We just got our food.”

She slides her phone across the table, the screen still lit. “The boys just posted their first YouTube video.”

You arch an eyebrow. “Oh they finally posted?”

Ava nods, half exasperated, half impressed. “Apparently, yeah. It’s a get-to-know-us video or something. Matt told me they’ve been brainstorming for months. C’mon, I’m dying to see what these idiots came up with.”

You can’t help a curious smile, despite everything. “Fine,” you relent, signaling for the check.

You rush through the last bites of your meal, pay up, and head out into the crisp evening air, still chuckling about the inevitability of the Sturniolos launching a channel. Once back at your apartment, you barely toss your bags aside before Ava snags the TV remote, pulling up YouTube on the big screen. The bright platform logo loads, and your heart skitters with a mix of curiosity and residual frustration as she clicks into their brand-new channel.

Seconds later, the title card for their video appears, and you settle onto the couch with Ava, bracing yourselves to see what Chris and his brothers have done. Then she hits play, and the screen fades in—

The shot opens on three faces partially illuminated by the overhead light of Matt’s car, which is parked in an otherwise dark, mostly empty lot. The orange glow of a distant streetlamp outlines the windows, and the faint hum of traffic can be heard in the background. Matt is in the driver’s seat—though the car is off—looking a bit shy. Chris, baseball cap pulled low, lounges in the passenger seat, arms crossed casually. Nick, in the back seat, has leaned forward just enough to fit into frame.

Nick taps the record button on his phone. “Alright, we’re rolling,” he says, wiggling his eyebrows at the camera. “What’s up, everyone? Welcome to the Sturniolo Triplets channel. This is our first official ‘car video.’ Except, well—” he gestures at the darkness outside, “—we’re not exactly going anywhere tonight.”

Chris shifts in his seat, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Yeah, apparently it’s late and someone”—he jabs a thumb at Matt—“doesn’t wanna drive around after dark. Says we should film while parked.”

Matt clears his throat, cheeks coloring under the faint overhead light. “I just think it’s safer to, uh, not be distracted when we’re doing our first video. We’ll do actual drive-around vlogs some other time.”

Nick nods with an exaggerated seriousness. “We gotta ease into this, folks. Anyway, I’m Nick, that’s Matt—who, by the way, got his license at sixteen, not yesterday—and over here is Chris.” He tilts the camera slightly, capturing each brother. “We’re nineteen, from Summerville, and, well… we decided to start this channel to share our everyday life.”

Chris runs a hand over his cap. “Sounds about right. Alright, Nick, what are we doing tonight?”

Nick holds up his phone. “I asked some friends for questions—stuff so people can get to know us. Figured we’d tackle them one by one.” He swipes a thumb across the screen. “First question: Where exactly are you guys from, and how old are you? I know we kinda said it, but let’s make it official.”

Matt, still looking a little shy, clears his throat. “We’re from Summerville—just outside Boston. We’re nineteen. All of us. Triplets, you know.”

Nick grins into the camera. “Yep, so that’s that. Next question: Favorite colors. Go.”

“Blue,” Matt says quietly, fidgeting with the hem of his T-shirt. “It’s just, I don’t know, I’ve always liked it.”

Nick bobs his head. “Me, I’m all about purple. Highly underrated color. Vibrant, mysterious—kinda like me.” He wiggles his brows sarcastically, and Chris gives him a withering stare.

Rolling his shoulders, Chris glances at the camera. “Orange,” he says, almost curtly. “No big reason. I just like it.”

Nick scrolls again. “Right, next question… ‘Are you single or taken?’”

Chris’s jaw tightens, and he says nothing, turning his gaze to the dark parking lot outside. Nick notices but decides not to push him yet. Instead, Nick answers for himself: “I’m single, because I haven’t found a dilf yet,” he says with a stage whisper, making Matt choke on laughter.

Matt fans himself in mock exasperation. “Nick, what the hell?” But he’s still grinning. “Alright, well, I’m not single. I’ve got a beautiful girlfriend, Ava.” He unlocks his phone and holds the lockscreen up for the camera: a candid shot of Ava mid-laugh. “She’s awesome. We’ve been together for almost three years.”

Nick leans forward from the back seat, peering at the lockscreen. “That’s cute, man. Look at you, all smitten and shit.”

Matt ducks his head. “Whatever,” he mumbles, a proud little smile tugging at his lips. “She’s great.”

Nick sees an opening. “So, big question: How’d you meet?”

Matt exhales, glancing momentarily at Chris, then back at the camera. “Alright. Junior year of high school, and for context, Ava’s best friend is named Y/N, and Chris here was basically, uh…” He coughs awkwardly. “...dating Y/N. So Y/N brought Ava around to hang out one weekend—”

Chris snorts loudly from the passenger seat. “Dating is a strong word,” he says, voice edged with sarcasm.

Matt shoots him an annoyed look. “Chris, shut the fuck up. Anyway, Y/N brought Ava over and—I don’t know, man, I just fell for her instantly. She was so funny and beautiful.”

Chris rolls his eyes. “Get that simp shit outta here, dude,” he mutters under his breath, arms crossing tighter.

Nick cringes, aiming a quick “Sorry, folks” look at the camera. “Ignore him. He’s cranky. Next question, anyone?”

Matt tries to refocus. “Right, next question,” he echoes, rattling off the typical Q&A stuff: worst fears, favorite foods, random celebrity crushes. Chris chimes in now and then with dry remarks, but mostly keeps his gaze on the window, occasionally letting out a derisive chuckle or rolling his eyes at Nick and Matt’s banter.

Nick finally waves a dramatic farewell at the lens. “Alright, that’s enough for our first official ‘car video’” he says. “Maybe next time we’ll be on the move. If you liked this, like and subscribe or something. I don’t know—help us out.”

Matt musters a small smile, leaning forward to stop the recording. “See you guys next time.”

The screen fades to black.

The newly uploaded car video ends, replaced by YouTube’s recommended thumbnails. Ava shuts off the TV with a grimace, letting out a long sigh.

“Did you see Chris’s face?” she asks, raking a hand through her hair. “Every time Matt brought up anything about us, he was just… so passive-aggressive.”

You lean back against the couch cushions, exhaling. “Yeah, I noticed. It’s like he can’t stand even the mention of that time in high school yet he had no problem bringing it up when he was drunk and horny and all over me.” Your stomach twists at the memory of Chris’s snort when Matt called it dating. “I get it if he has regrets or bitterness, but did he have to say that stuff on camera and then post it online?”

Ava folds her arms, shaking her head. “Right? Like, ‘get that simp shit outta here’? Excuse me, let Matt have his moment! He was being sweet—he’s not a fucking simp for talking about how much he loves me. And calling it a ‘strong word’ when he was obviously your… I don’t know.” She frowns, searching for the right term.

You grimace. “We were more than friends, at the very least, I mean he was my first everything. But apparently, Chris is tryna rewrite the past now.”

Ava clicks her tongue. “That’s messed up. I mean, Nick tries so hard to keep the vibe light, and Matt—poor Matt—he’s just excited to share, you know? It’s their first video. They want it to be a success. Then Chris has to go all moody.”

You roll your eyes. “He’s always had a sarcastic streak, but this was fucking personal. He’s clearly extra upset about all this, especially after Dennys.”

Ava rests her chin on her hand, brow furrowed. “Yeah, well, he’s not doing himself any favors. Imagine being a new subscriber and seeing him sulking the whole time.”

You huff a short laugh. “At least the rest of the video was entertaining. Nick’s bit about hunting for a dilf was hilarious.”

Ava giggles, though it’s short-lived. “I just wish Chris could be more supportive. Matt’s shy, we know that, and this is big for him. They’re not even moving the car, so that should’ve been easy, right?”

You nod firmly. “Exactly. If Chris wants to brood, he can do it off-camera. Instead, he’s gotta make those little digs. It was so uncomfortable to watch.”

Ava sighs, rubbing her forehead. “Part of me wants to text Matt, make sure he’s okay. And then another part of me wants to call Chris out on his bullshit.”

Your lips quirk up wryly. “Could do both. But maybe let them have their moment. If they’re serious about this channel, they’ll have to figure out that dynamic sooner or later.”

She gives you a sidelong look. “Yeah, you’re probably right. It’s just… it’s so rude, right?”

“Completely,” you agree, folding your legs beneath you. 

Ava slumps deeper into the couch, crossing her arms as she stares at the now-blank TV screen. The frustration on her face hasn’t budged since the video ended. “Y’know,” she begins, voice taut, “it’s not just Chris being rude that bothers me—though that’s bad enough. It’s how Matt is practically too shy to get a word in, and whenever he tries, someone interrupts him.”

You nod, recalling how many times Matt started to speak, only for Chris or Nick to jump in. “He did look pretty nervous.”

Ava makes a tiny, annoyed sound in the back of her throat. “He’s always been anxious. He likes the idea of this YouTube stuff, but he’s a quiet person, you know? Then Chris and Nick just bulldoze over him. I mean, Nick does it in a playful way, but Chris?” She shakes her head, lip curling. “Every time Matt tried to share something, Chris had a snarky comment ready.”

You fiddle with a piece of lint on the couch. “I could see Matt clamming up whenever Chris made those little digs. He’d just… shut down.”

“Exactly,” Ava sighs. “And it’s their first video—shouldn’t they be encouraging each other? Especially Chris, since he’s so confident on camera. But he was practically rolling his eyes at everything Matt said.”

A wave of sympathy washes over you. “Matt was so excited to talk about how you two met,” you say gently, picturing the shy pride on Matt’s face whenever he brought up Ava. “Plus literally dogged on me in front of the whole internet. Name out and everything.” 

Ava purses her lips, irritation glowing in her eyes. “Right. He basically belittled anything that happened between you guys, which is rude in itself, but worse, it cut Matt off mid-thought. Like, let the boy speak!” She exhales hard. “Matt’s never been the type to assert himself, especially not on camera. He hates confrontation—always has.”

“Yeah,” you agree, remembering countless times Matt dodged drama in high school, well just dodged highschool in general. “It’s not easy for him to push back when Chris is in a mood.”

Ava’s expression darkens a bit. “He shouldn’t even have to push back. They’re brothers, for crying out loud—you’d think Chris would at least let Matt finish a sentence without being an asshole.”

You catch the protective tone in Ava’s voice and press your lips together. “Are you gonna say anything to Matt about it?”

She chews on her thumbnail, debating. “I want to. But I know he’ll just shrug it off, say it’s no big deal. He’s used to being outtalked by his brothers.”

Your chest pinches at the thought—Matt, sweet and quiet, swallowed by his siblings’ bigger personalities. “I mean, hopefully Nick sees it, too, and tries to help, right? He usually has a decent read on when Chris is out of line.”

Ava nods, though she still looks wound up. “Yeah, Nick tries. I just hate seeing Matt’s excitement overshadowed by Chris’s bullshit. One or two comments is one thing, but he barely let Matt breathe.”

“We can’t exactly force them to film differently, but maybe you could remind Matt he has a right to speak up. If he wants to start a channel, his voice should matter, you know?”

Ava inhales, shoulders lifting with tension. “You’re right. I guess I’ll talk to him, casually. Tell him I love hearing what he has to say.” She huffs a short laugh, though there’s no humor in it. “God, it’s ridiculous we even have to worry about this. It’s their first fucking video.”

You laugh. “Exactly! It might seem to Chris or Nick that we’re being dramatic but Matt is literally a baby. That's like my son.” 

Ava sets her phone aside, chewing on her lower lip as though turning a new idea over in her head. “Hey,” she begins, glancing at you. “What if we invite them over? Like, we can do a little ‘congrats on your first video’ celebration—just something small. I’ll talk to Matt then, and maybe even Chris.”

You hesitate, recalling Chris’s less-than-stellar attitude in the vlog. “I don’t know,” you mutter, picking at a loose thread on your shirt. “I mean, Chris was so… bitchy. Do I really want him in my living room acting like that?”

Ava sighs, shoulders slumping. “Believe me, I get it. But Nick and Matt deserve some positive reinforcement, right? They at least deserve to see that we’re proud of them, especially after all the nerves Matt had.”

You let out a small groan, torn between your lingering annoyance and the genuine desire to support Matt and Nick. “Fine,” you relent at last. “I do want to celebrate them. I just hope Chris doesn’t wreck the vibe.”

Ava’s face lights up with a determined grin. “Perfect. Let’s do this right—we’ll grab a little cake, some balloons, maybe a pizza. We can’t make it huge, but at least it’ll be fun.”

“Pizza?” you echo dryly. “We literally just ate.”

She shrugs, already hopping off the couch to grab her wallet. “Pizza’s timeless, Y/N. Let’s go. If we text Matt and say ‘come over in an hour,’ that should give us time.”

You find yourself mirroring her excitement, a smile creeping in despite your nerves. “Alright, let’s make it quick,” you say. “We’ll pick up decorations on the way.”

After a hurried drive through town, you and Ava dart into a party supply store, scouring the aisles for cheap balloons and a congratulatory banner. You settle on a simple metallic one that reads CONGRATS!—it’s not exactly “Congrats on Your First YouTube Video,” but it’ll do in a pinch. Ava practically bounces from shelf to shelf, gathering colorful balloons, while you pop over to the bakery section next door to grab a small sheet cake. The design is basic—white frosting with a swirl of confetti sprinkles—but you ask them to write CONGRATS across the top in purple, blue, and orange icing.

Once you’re juggling balloons, a cake box, and a bag of plastic plates, Ava steers you to the pizza place around the corner. She orders one large pepperoni and one plain cheese, plus a side of breadsticks—“Just in case,” she says, winking as you roll your eyes.

Standing by the soda fridge, you pull out your phone to text Matt:

Y/N: Hey, can you come over in about an hour with your brothers? Ava wants to celebrate your first vid! We have a little surprise. 

Matt: That sounds awesome. Let me check with them—brb. 

A few seconds later, his response flashes:

Matt: Nick’s in. Chris said whatever. I’ll bring him anyway. See you soon :)

You sigh, showing Ava the text. “Chris is, as usual, thrilled to come.”

She wrinkles her nose. “We’ll deal. Maybe with food and a little hype, he’ll chill out.”

“We can hope,” you reply, though your stomach is still knotted with apprehension.

Back at your apartment, you and Ava scramble to set up. Balloons get haphazardly taped to the walls, the small banner gets draped along the mantel, and you put the cake and pizza boxes onto the kitchen counter. The place smells faintly of fresh pizza sauce, and despite the rush, a cozy energy settles in.

Ava pulls down her crop top, taking one last look around. “Alright,” she exhales. “This is as good as it’s gonna get on short notice.”

You nod, glancing at your phone to check the time. “They should be here any minute.” Though a flutter of anxiety tugs in your chest—Chris’s mood looms over your thoughts—you still feel a warm spark of excitement for Nick and Matt.

The sound of footsteps echoes in the hallway just before a sharp knock at the door. Ava rushes over to open it, and the triplets pile inside in their usual chaotic fashion. Nick is first, grinning wide as his eyes sweep the apartment. “Whoa! You guys went all out for us?” he exclaims, pointing at the balloons and banner.

Matt follows, carrying a bag of soda bottles. His shy smile brightens at the sight of the decorations. “This is awesome. You really didn’t have to—”

Chris steps in last, hands stuffed into his hoodie pockets. His usual sarcastic smirk is replaced by a genuine look of surprise as he takes it all in. “Yo,” he says, gaze landing on the cake. “Did you seriously get a cake for this? That’s kinda dope.”

Ava beams, motioning for them to come all the way in. “Of course, we did! Your first video deserves a celebration. Pizza’s on the counter, and there’s cake after.”

Nick spins in a circle, taking it all in with exaggerated awe. “This is better than any party we’ve ever thrown,” he jokes, making Chris laugh.

“Low bar,” Chris quips, grabbing a slice of pizza. “We usually just sit around eating stale chips.”

You exchange a glance with Ava, a silent note of relief passing between you. Chris doesn’t seem moody or withdrawn like he’s been the past times you’ve interacted. Instead, he’s leaning into his usual ADHD-driven energy, bouncing from the pizza to the balloons to the banner with lighthearted comments. It reminds you of the old him and your old dynamic before things got fucked up.

“This is fucking awesome” he says, pointing at the metallic CONGRATS! sign. “Where’d you even find that?”

“Party store,” you reply, biting back a laugh as he nods approvingly.

As the boys settle into the space, Ava nudges Matt lightly and tilts her head toward the hallway. “Hey, can we talk for a sec?” she asks.

Matt hesitates, glancing at his brothers. “Uh, sure.”

You catch Ava’s eye and follow the two of them to the hallway, leaving the others by the pizza. Nick and Chris don’t seem to notice at first, too busy bantering about which balloon color is better.

Once in the hallway, Ava crosses her arms, her voice soft but serious. “Matt, I wanted to check in about the car video. You seemed really anxious, and Chris kept interrupting you. It kinda bugged me, honestly.”

Matt rubs the back of his neck, cheeks reddening. “Oh yeah, I was a little nervous. But it’s fine. You know how I get in front of people. Chris was just being Chris.”

“It’s not fine,” you chime in, arms crossed. “He didn’t just interrupt you—he was being a moody brat who couldn’t wait his turn to speak.”

Unbeknownst to you, Chris has wandered closer to the hallway. He freezes mid-step, hearing your words. His relaxed demeanor vanishes as his face hardens. “Oh, a moody brat?” Chris’s tone was sharp, his expression dark as he stepped into view from around the corner. “That’s what you think of me?”

You froze, your stomach sinking as his gaze locked onto you. “Chris, I didn’t mean—”

“Bullshit,” he snapped, crossing his arms. “You meant exactly what you said. Go on, let’s hear it. What else am I? A selfish asshole? A shitty brother?”

“Chris, calm down,” Ava said, stepping in. “She wasn’t trying to attack you—”

“Oh, don’t start,” Chris interrupted, turning his anger on her. “Of course you’d jump in to defend her. You always have something to say, don’t you?”

Ava’s jaw dropped, her own frustration flaring. “Excuse me? Don’t take your shit out on me just because you can’t handle a little criticism!”

“Criticism?” Chris barked, his voice rising. “You mean this little intervention where you all gang up on me and call me names behind my back?”

“We weren’t ganging up on you!” Ava shot back. “We were talking about how Matt couldn’t get a word in because you wouldn’t let him.”

“That’s enough!” Matt’s voice cut through the argument like a whip, startling everyone into silence. His face was red, and his hands were balled into fists at his sides. He stepped forward, his glare pinned on Chris.

“You don’t get to yell at her,” Matt said, his voice trembling with anger. “She’s only trying to help me. And she’s right—you were out of line in the car video. You didn’t let me talk, and you made me feel like an idiot for even trying.”

Chris’s mouth opened, but Matt held up a hand. “No. I’m not finished. You act like it’s some huge inconvenience to let me have a moment. But guess what, Chris? You’re not the only one who matters. This channel isn’t just about you.”

Nick appeared in the doorway, his pizza forgotten. “Whoa, what’s going on?” he asked, his eyes darting between everyone.

“Chris is losing his shit because we called him out for being rude,” Ava said, her voice tight.

“Rude?” Chris echoed, his voice shaking with barely contained anger. “You mean honest? Sorry if I’m not sugarcoating everything like you two.”

“You weren’t honest,” you snapped, your own frustration boiling over. “You were mean. You steamrolled Matt, you dogged on me, shitted on their relationship, and now you’re trying to justify it by yelling at us? Grow up, Chris.”

Chris turned his glare back on you, his hands twitching at his sides. “You’re one to talk about growing up. Maybe you should focus on your own shit before coming after me.”

“Enough!” Matt shouted again. He stepped between you and Chris, his face flushed with anger. “I’m so sick of this. Chris, stop taking your problems out on everyone else. Ava and Y/N didn’t deserve that, and you know it.”

The hallway fell silent, the tension so thick it was almost suffocating. Chris looked away, his jaw clenched, while Ava placed a hand on Matt’s arm.

Nick exhaled loudly, running a hand through his hair. “Okay, can we please not burn the apartment down? I get it—there’s stuff to work through. But maybe we can do that without screaming at each other? The fuck?”

You crossed your arms, your heart still pounding. “Fine by me,” you muttered, though your gaze lingered on Chris, who still refused to meet your eyes.

“Let’s just… go eat cake,” Matt said, his voice weary. He turned and headed back toward the living room, Ava following close behind. Nick trailed after them, casting a concerned glance over his shoulder at you and Chris.

Chris lingered for a moment, his shoulders tense. Finally, he muttered, “Whatever,” and walked away, leaving you alone in the hallway with a storm of emotions swirling in your chest.

The celebration had been meant to bring everyone together, but instead, it had cracked the fragile dynamic even further.

You took a deep breath, standing in the empty hallway as Chris’s footsteps receded. Your chest felt tight, the lingering tension from the argument swirling in your mind. For a brief moment, you debated staying behind, letting the others enjoy the cake and pretending none of this had happened. But you knew that wasn’t an option—not really.

With a sigh, you pushed off the wall and headed back into the living room. The atmosphere had shifted; the room felt quieter, the earlier excitement dulled. Ava was cutting the cake, her movements a little more forceful than usual, while Matt stood next to her, hands shoved in his pockets. Nick was sprawled out on the couch, scrolling through his phone like nothing had happened.

Chris was leaning against the counter near the kitchen, his expression unreadable as he stared at the floor. His posture was relaxed, but you could tell he was still stewing, the tension radiating off him like heat waves.

You took a seat on the armrest of the couch, trying to gauge the mood. Ava handed out plates of cake, her usual cheerful banter replaced by a quiet efficiency. When she placed a slice in front of Chris, he nodded mutely, not meeting her eyes.

“So,” Nick said, breaking the silence as he grabbed his own slice of cake. “Anyone wanna talk about literally anything else?”

The attempt at levity was met with a few weak chuckles. Matt shot Nick a grateful look before sitting down with Ava, who instinctively leaned into his side. You noticed the way Matt’s hand brushed lightly against her back—a subtle gesture of reassurance.

“Good cake,” Nick said through a mouthful. “Not gonna lie, this almost makes up for all the yelling.”

Chris snorted softly, finally looking up. “Almost.”

The conversation meandered awkwardly, everyone trying to fill the space without addressing the elephant in the room. You toyed with your fork, not really hungry, and avoided Chris’s gaze when it flicked your way. It was clear he was holding back something—whether it was more anger or an apology, you couldn’t tell.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Nick clapped his hands together. “Alright, I’ve had enough of this depressing-ass vibe. Let’s go do something.”

Ava raised an eyebrow. “Like what?”

Nick’s grin was mischievous. “Let’s go to the park and mess around. Smoke a little, swing on the swings—anything to get out of this apartment.”

Matt glanced at Ava, who nodded with a shrug. “Sure,” she said. “Why not?”

One by one, everyone agreed, the idea of fresh air and a change of scenery too tempting to pass up. After you all smoked in your apartment, you grabbed a hoodie on the way out, trailing behind the group as you made your way to the nearby park.

The park was quiet, the swings and play structures bathed in the soft glow of a nearby streetlamp. The cool night air felt refreshing against your skin, and for the first time in hours, you felt your shoulders relax.

Nick immediately headed for the swings, pushing himself back and forth with exaggerated enthusiasm. “This is the shit,” he said, laughing as he swung higher. “Why don’t we do this more often?”

Matt and Ava claimed the bench near the swings, sitting close together as Ava leaned her head on his shoulder. Chris hung back for a moment, his hands shoved in his hoodie pockets as he watched Nick swing.

You took a seat on the swing next to Nick, letting the gentle rocking motion soothe your nerves. Chris eventually wandered over, leaning against the swing set post. His gaze flicked to you briefly before settling on the ground.

“Mind if I sit?” he asked, his voice low.

You hesitated but nodded, scooting over slightly as he took the swing beside you. For a while, neither of you spoke, the quiet punctuated only by the creak of the chains and Nick’s occasional whoops.

Finally, Chris broke the silence. “Hey,” he says softly, his voice tinged with vulnerability. “I just wanted to say I’m sorry for how I acted.” 

You glanced at him, surprised by the vulnerability in his tone. His eyes, slightly red from earlier, locked onto yours with an intensity that made your breath catch.

“I know I’ve been a dick,” he continued, his hand gripping the chain of the swing. “In the car, in the hallway… I didn’t mean to blow up like that.”

You nodded slowly, unsure of what to say. Before you could respond, Chris reached out, his fingers brushing against your arm. The touch was light, but it sent a shiver through you.

“I just…” He hesitated, his gaze dropping to the ground before returning to yours. “You gotta watch your mouth, though. Calling me a ‘moody brat’? Kinda bold of you.”

There was a flicker of a smirk on his lips, but it didn’t reach his eyes. His hand moved to your chin, tilting your face slightly so you couldn’t look away. “You’ve always had a way of pushing my buttons, you know that?”

The tension between you crackled, the space between your bodies feeling impossibly small despite the openness of the park. His thumb brushed against your jawline, a touch so deliberate it made your pulse race.

“Chris,” you started, your voice barely above a whisper.

He leaned in slightly, his red-rimmed eyes locking onto yours. “I’m just saying,” he murmured, his voice low and rough. “Next time you wanna call me out, maybe don’t do it when I’m already on edge.”

You couldn’t tell if he was teasing or threatening—or something else entirely. All you knew was that the weight of his gaze and the warmth of his hand against your skin were making it hard to think straight.

In the distance, you heard Matt laughing as he jumped off his swing. Ava’s voice carried through the night as she scolded him, but the sounds felt distant, like they belonged to another world. Here, in this moment, it was just you and Chris.

The tension from earlier seemed to dissipate as everyone made their way back to the apartment. By the time you stepped inside, the atmosphere had shifted to something lighter, almost playful. Ava unlocked the door, pushing it open with a grin.

“Okay, so,” she declared, kicking off her shoes, “Everyone’s staying over, and we’re drinking. No arguments.”

Nick immediately threw his arms in the air. “Hell yes! I knew I liked you for a reason, Ava.”

Chris snorted, leaning against the doorframe as he toed off his sneakers. “Like anyone’s gonna say no to free booze.”

Matt hesitated, glancing at Ava. “Are you sure?” he asked quietly. “We don’t wanna impose.”

Ava rolled her eyes and grabbed him by the strings of his hoodie, tugging him inside. “Matt, you’re my boyfriend. You couldn’t impose if you tried. Now get your ass on the couch.”

You laughed, heading for the kitchen to grab drinks. By the time you returned with a mix of beers, seltzers, and a bottle of vodka, Nick had already connected to the Bluetooth speaker, blasting an absurd mix of nostalgic throwbacks and hits.

Ava clapped her hands together, her grin devilish. “Alright, people. We’re drinking, and I don’t want anyone pussying out.”

“Define ‘wimping out,’” Chris teased, cracking open a beer. “Because I’m not doing vodka shots if that’s where this is headed.” 

“Lightweight,” Nick muttered, earning a glare from Chris.

The night spiraled quickly into a mess of drinking games, loud music, and questionable dares. Nick tried balancing a spoon on his nose (and failed miserably), Matt spent ten minutes figuring out how to shuffle cards for a drinking game, and Ava made everyone take a collective shot “just cause.”

When someone suggested playing Intimacy Dice, a game Ava had pulled from the back of her closet, chaos was inevitable. Two dice: one with body parts, the other with actions. The rules were simple—roll and do whatever the dice dictated.

“This is going to be a train wreck,” Nick declared, grinning as he picked up the dice.

“Exactly the point,” Ava shot back, handing him the dice first.

Nick rolled, and the dice tumbled to a stop: lick and toes.

The room exploded with laughter as Ava’s name was called.

“Oh, come on!” she groaned. “Why do I have to lick Nick’s gross-ass toes?”

“Rules are rules,” Chris said smugly, leaning back with his beer like he was thoroughly enjoying her discomfort.

Ava rolled her eyes dramatically, kneeling down as Nick gleefully stuck his socked foot in her direction. “Fine,” she huffed, pulling off the sock and gagging for added effect. “But I’m never forgiving you for this.”

“Take one for the team!” you cheered, your sides aching from laughing so hard.

With exaggerated reluctance, Ava leaned in and barely grazed the tip of Nick’s big toe with her tongue before shooting upright. “Done!” she declared, grabbing her drink and chugging half of it. “That was disgusting.”

Nick was practically rolling on the floor, laughing so hard he couldn’t breathe. “You’re a hero, Ava. A true inspiration.”

Your turn came next. You rolled the dice, holding your breath as they clattered across the floor. When they finally stopped, the room went silent.

Kiss and lips.

“Y/N and Matt!” Ava announced gleefully, pointing at the two of you.

Matt’s face turned beet red as he glanced at Ava nervously. “Uh…”

You hesitated, heat creeping up your neck. Your eyes darted to Ava, who was clearly trying not to burst out laughing, then to Chris. His expression was unreadable, though the way he sipped his beer a little harder than usual wasn’t lost on you.

“It’s just a game,” Ava said, waving her hand. “Go on! It’s not like I’m gonna get mad.”

Matt hesitated for another second before finally leaning forward, his cheeks blazing. “Okay,” he muttered. “Let’s just… get it over with.”

The kiss was quick—a soft brush of lips that lasted barely a second—but it sent a ripple of awkward laughter through the group.

“See?” Ava said, grinning. “No big deal!”

“Yeah, no big deal,” Chris echoed, his tone sharper than necessary. You glanced at him again, noticing the tightness in his jaw and the way his knuckles whitened around his beer.

The game continued, but the tension lingering between you and Chris was impossible to ignore. Every time you caught his eye, there was an edge to his gaze, something simmering beneath the surface that he didn’t—or wouldn’t—acknowledge.

By the time Nick rolled again and burst out laughing at another absurd combination, the alcohol was hitting hard, and the night had officially veered into chaos.

The dice tumbled across the floor again, the room falling silent as everyone leaned in to see what Ava’s roll would dictate. When the dice stopped, the words rub and over clothes faced up, and Nick immediately burst into laughter.

“Oh my God,” he howled, pointing at Matt. “It’s you!”

Matt’s face turned beet red as all eyes shifted to him. Ava, however, wasn’t fazed at all. Instead, she grinned, a mischievous sparkle lighting up her eyes as she turned to her boyfriend.

“Well, well,” she teased, biting her lip to stifle a giggle. “Looks like it’s my lucky night.”

Matt laughed, burying his face in his hands. “Ava, we don’t have to—”

“Oh, come on,” she interrupted, moving to sit next to him. “We’re literally dating. It’s not like I haven’t done this before.”

Chris choked on his drink, Nick howled with laughter, and you found yourself half-hiding behind a throw pillow, your own face burning from excitement. 

“You’re really gonna do this?” Chris asked, his voice tinged with both disbelief and amusement.

“Absolutely,” Ava replied without hesitation, already positioning herself to straddle Matt’s lap. “Rules are rules, right?”

Matt peeked up at her, his face still flushed. “You’re way too excited about this.”

“You’re my boyfriend,” she said with a wink, leaning in closer. “Of course I’m excited.”

The rest of you erupted into laughter as Ava started playfully rubbing her hands over Matt’s chest and thighs, clearly enjoying both his embarrassment and the ridiculousness of the situation.

“Don’t make it weird, Matt,” Nick called out, nearly in tears from laughing so hard. “Just relax and enjoy the ride.”

“Oh, shut up,” Matt muttered, his voice muffled by his hands.

Ava leaned closer, her voice dropping just enough for only Matt to hear. “Relax, babe,” she teased, her hands brushing over his jeans in a way that made his whole body tense. “I’ll make it worth your while.”

Matt let out a nervous laugh, and the rest of you doubled over, the absurdity of the moment breaking whatever tension lingered from earlier. Even Chris was smirking now, shaking his head as he took another sip of his beer. 

Ava grinned wickedly as she climbed onto Matt’s lap, completely unbothered by the attention from the rest of you. Her confidence and excitement were palpable, and it only made Matt blush harder, his hands nervously resting on her thighs as she settled in.

“Okay,” she said with a playful smirk, running her hands over his shoulders first. “Let’s see how far we can push this without you making a mess of yourself.”

Matt groaned, leaning his head back against the couch, his cheeks still a deep shade of red. “Sweetheart, you’re killing me.”

“That’s the point,” she teased, her fingers trailing down his chest. “Rules are rules, babe.”

The room was filled with laughter, Nick practically doubled over on the floor as he wiped tears from his eyes. “Oh my God, this is the best thing I’ve ever seen,” he gasped, clutching his stomach.

Even Chris was leaning forward in his seat, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Matt, kid, you look like you’re about to pass out.”

“Chris,” Matt muttered, his voice strained, “shut up.”

Ava’s hands moved lower, pressing lightly against Matt’s stomach before slipping down to the front of his jeans. She rubbed him gently over the fabric, her grin growing as she felt him stiffen beneath her touch. “Oh,” she cooed, her tone both teasing and affectionate. “Someone’s enjoying this.”

Matt groaned again, his hands gripping her hips as he tried to shift away, but Ava didn’t let up. Her movements stayed playful, light enough to make him squirm but not enough to push things too far.

“Ava,” he said through gritted teeth, his voice low, “seriously, you’re going to kill me.”

“Not yet,” she teased, leaning down to kiss his cheek. “But I’m having way too much fun watching you suffer.”

The rest of you were practically crying with laughter, the absurdity of the moment too much to handle. Nick fell over onto the floor, gasping for air between fits of giggles, while Chris shook his head, his smirk widening.

“This is peak entertainment,” Chris said, his voice laced with amusement. “Matt, you’re a champ for putting up with this.”

Matt shot him a glare but couldn’t say much else as Ava’s hands continued to move, her touch just firm enough to keep him completely flustered. His breath hitched, and he squeezed his eyes shut, his entire body tense.

“Okay, okay,” Ava finally said, pulling her hands back and laughing as she sat up straighter. “I think that’s enough for now. Don’t wanna break you.”

Matt let out a long, shaky breath, his face still bright red as he muttered, “You already did.”

The room exploded with laughter again, Nick literally rolling on the floor as he clapped his hands. “Ava, you’re insane,” he declared, wiping his face.

Ava leaned in to kiss Matt’s forehead, her expression softening just a bit. “You did great, babe,” she teased, patting his chest. “I’m so proud of you.”

Matt groaned, hiding his face in her shoulder as the rest of you continued to laugh and tease. Even though he was mortified, the warmth in his eyes as he looked at Ava made it clear he wasn’t mad—just very, very embarrassed.

The room was still buzzing with laughter from Ava and Matt’s ridiculous display when Nick grabbed the dice, a mischievous grin plastered across his face. He held them up dramatically, shaking them for effect before letting them clatter onto the floor. Everyone leaned forward, waiting for the result.

Makeout and partner’s choice.

The room went silent for half a second before Nick, ever the showman, jumped up and pointed at you. “Y/N! You’re my partner of choice,” he announced, waggling his eyebrows.

Your eyes widened as laughter erupted around you. “Say less, mama. C‘mere.”

“HAAAAAA” Ava laughed, clearly enjoying your mortification as much as everyone else had enjoyed hers. Matt, still recovering from Ava’s teasing, managed a weak chuckle.

Nick strolled over to you, extending a hand like a gentleman. “Milady,” he said dramatically, “I promise to be gentle.”

“Oh, for God’s sake,” you muttered, but you couldn’t help laughing as you let him pull you up from the couch. “Two minutes? That’s insane.”

Chris, who had been leaning back with his beer, suddenly straightened in his seat. His jaw tightened as his gaze flicked between you and Nick. “You better keep it PG,” he muttered under his breath, but it was loud enough for you to catch.

Nick ignored him, his grin unwavering. “Alright, someone set a timer!” he called out, glancing at Ava, who gleefully grabbed her phone.

“Timer’s ready,” Ava announced, holding it up like a referee at a sporting event. “And… go!”

Nick didn’t waste any time, pulling you closer and pressing his lips to yours. You had expected it to be awkward and funny—just another silly moment in the ridiculous night—but Nick, to his credit, was surprisingly good at this. His hands rested lightly on your waist, and his kiss was playful, soft, and just a little teasing.

The room erupted with cheers and wolf whistles. “Get it, Nick!” Ava shouted, nearly falling off the couch as she laughed.

Matt shook his head, laughing along. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

Meanwhile, Chris’s expression darkened. His beer sat untouched in his hand as his eyes locked on the two of you, a muscle in his jaw ticking. You caught his gaze out of the corner of your eye, and for a split second, you could swear you saw something more than annoyance—something sharper, hotter.

Nick, oblivious to the rising tension, deepened the kiss slightly, his thumb brushing your side as he leaned in closer. You couldn’t help but laugh against his lips, the ridiculousness of the situation making it impossible to take seriously.

“Thirty seconds left!” Ava announced, giggling uncontrollably.

Chris muttered something under his breath, his knuckles tightening around his beer bottle. He leaned forward slightly, his sharp gaze never leaving you and Nick. The air between you and Chris felt charged, like an undercurrent of something unspoken was threatening to surface.

When Ava finally shouted, “Time’s up!” Nick pulled back with a triumphant grin, his lips still slightly red. “Well,” he said, pretending to adjust an imaginary tie, “that was magical. You’re welcome, Y/N.”

You rolled your eyes, laughing as you pushed his chest lightly. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t let it go to your head.”

The room was alive with laughter and jokes, but you couldn’t ignore the way Chris’s gaze lingered on you. His expression was a mix of frustration and something else—something darker that sent a shiver down your spine.

Nick plopped back onto the couch, throwing an arm over the back as if nothing had happened. Chris, however, stood abruptly, muttering something about getting another drink as he disappeared into the kitchen.

Ava leaned toward you, whispering, “Did you see Chris’s face? He looked like he was about to explode.”

You glanced toward the kitchen, where Chris was pointedly not looking at anyone, and felt a pang of unease mixed with something you couldn’t quite name. 

Chris strolled back into the room, his face unreadable as he grabbed a beer from the counter and leaned casually against the couch. The energy in the room had shifted slightly since Nick’s turn, and you could feel Chris’s gaze flick toward you every now and then, sharp and assessing.

“Alright,” Nick said, handing Chris the dice with an exaggerated flourish. “Your turn, bro. Don’t wimp out on us.”

Chris raised an eyebrow, his lips quirking into a half-smile. “Like I’d ever wimp out,” he said, shaking the dice with a deliberate slowness that made everyone groan.

“Just roll already!” Ava laughed, still curled up next to Matt.

Chris finally tossed the dice onto the floor. Everyone leaned forward to see the result, and the room went dead silent as the words hickeys and boobs faced up.

“Holy shit,” Nick breathed, his face lighting up with mischievous glee. “This is about to get interesting.”

Matt immediately turned to Ava. “Not happening,” he said firmly, his protective instincts kicking in before anyone could even suggest her name.

Ava raised her hands in mock surrender. “Don’t worry, babe. I’m off-limits.”

Chris’s eyes flicked toward you, and you froze as the realization hit. He couldn’t pick Ava, which left… you.

“Well,” he drawled, his voice smooth and low as his gaze locked onto yours, “looks like you’re up, Y/N.”

Your breath hitched, and the room collectively erupted into laughter and cheers. “Are we deadass right now.” you protested, your face heating up.

“Rules are rules,” Nick said, barely holding back his laughter.

Chris set his beer down, standing up and extending a hand toward you. “C’mere,” he said simply, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Chris settled back onto the couch, motioning for you to come closer. The room felt electric, charged with a mix of laughter and tension as you hesitated for a moment. Then, with every eye on you, you slowly made your way toward him, your heartbeat pounding louder with each step.

He reached out, taking your hand and pulling you onto his lap with a confidence that made your stomach flip. His hands rested on your waist, steadying you as he leaned in, his voice low and teasing. “Relax,” he murmured, his lips brushing your ear. “I’m not gonna bite—unless you ask.

“Hey,” Ava said, waving her hand like a referee. “No funny business, Chris.”

Chris smirked, his eyes gleaming with something dangerously close to mischief. “Relax,” he said, his voice low and smooth. “I’ve got this under control.”

His hands slid up your sides, his movements slow and deliberate as he hooked his fingers under the hem of your shirt. “This okay?” he asked, his voice softer now, meant only for you.

You swallowed hard, nodding, your cheeks burning. The room had fallen eerily quiet, everyone watching with varying degrees of curiosity and amusement.

Chris lifted your shirt over your head, letting it drop to the floor. Then, with a quick, practiced motion, he unhooked your bra and let it fall forward, though he made sure to keep your back to the rest of the room. From their vantage point, all anyone could see was your bare shoulders and the curve of your spine.

He glanced around the room briefly, addressing the group. “Just so we’re clear,” he said, his tone light but carrying a hint of warning, “this is for my eyes only.” 

“You good?” Chris murmured, his lips brushing against your ear as his hands settled back on your hips.

“Yeah,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

His fingers trailed lightly over your skin, sending a shiver through you before he leaned forward, his lips pressing against the curve of your shoulder. He started slow, his mouth warm and deliberate as he worked his way toward the base of your neck. Each kiss was soft but insistent, and you felt your pulse quicken as his teeth grazed your skin, just enough to make you gasp.

“Jesus,” Nick muttered from somewhere behind you, breaking the silence. “This is… wow.”

“Yeah I’m horny as fuck” Ava sighed, though her tone was more amused than anything.

Chris ignored them, his focus entirely on you. His lips moved with precision, leaving a trail of red marks along your skin, his breath warm against you. His hands tightened slightly on your hips, holding you steady as he pressed another kiss just above your collarbone, lingering longer this time.

Chris’s hands stayed firmly on your waist, his thumbs brushing the curve of your hips as he leaned in again, his eyes locked on yours. “You’re so tense,” he murmured, his voice low and teasing. “We’ve got time.”

Before you could respond, his lips found your collarbone again, trailing down with unhurried precision. He pressed another kiss just above the swell of your chest, his mouth lingering longer this time. The warmth of his breath against your skin made your pulse race, and you gripped his jeans tighter, trying to ground yourself.

“Chris,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

He hummed softly, his lips curving into a smirk against your skin. “Hmm? Something you wanna say?”

Your breath hitched as his teeth grazed a particularly sensitive spot just below your collarbone, the sensation sending a jolt of heat through you. He pulled back slightly, his red-rimmed eyes meeting yours with a mix of mischief and intensity.

“You okay?” he asked, his tone condescending.

You nodded, unable to find your voice. Chris tilted his head, studying you for a moment before leaning back in. This time, his kisses were slower, his lips brushing against the soft skin of your tits. He left a trail of faint red marks, each one deliberate and placed with care around your nipples, like he was painting a picture only the two of you could see.

The room around you felt like it had disappeared entirely. You were vaguely aware of the occasional murmur or laugh from your friends, but their voices were distant, muted by the pounding of your heart and the heat of Chris’s touch.

His hands slid up your sides, his thumbs skimming the curve of your ribs as he tilted his head to press another kiss just above your sternum. He paused, his tongue flicking lightly over the mark he’d just made, soothing the sting before moving to a new spot.

“You’re letting me take my time,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your skin as he spoke. “I didn’t expect that.”

You swallowed hard, your voice shaky. “What do you mean?”

Chris chuckled softly, the sound vibrating against your chest. “You’ve always been a little stubborn. I figured you’d push me away by now.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but his lips found your nipple, and all coherent thoughts evaporated. His teeth grazed your skin, just enough to make you gasp, and his hands tightened on your waist, holding you steady as your body instinctively grinded down on him.

The tension between you was thick, almost suffocating, as his kisses became more purposeful, more insistent. He moved to your other nipple, leaving a series of marks along your breast that you knew would linger long after the night was over.

Finally, after what felt like both an eternity and no time at all, Chris leaned back slightly, his hands moving back to your waist. “All done,” he said softly, though his eyes lingered on your purple and red chest for a moment longer.

“Damn,” Nick said, shaking his head with a grin and leaning over to catch a glimpse. “Chris, you didn’t have to make it an art form.”

“Shut up,” Chris muttered, though his smirk betrayed his amusement. He picked up his beer again, taking a slow sip as he leaned back into the couch. “Don’t look at that,”

Ava gave you a knowing look, her grin playful. “You good, Y/N? You look a little… flustered.”

You avoided Chris’s gaze, your cheeks burning as you focused on adjusting your shirt. “I’m fine,” you said quickly, though your heart was still racing.

Chris leaned closer to grab his beer, his voice low enough for only you to hear. “You’re fine, huh?” His eyes glinted with that same mix of mischief and heat. “Good to know.”

Chris smirked as you fumbled to put your shirt and bra back on, his eyes lingering just a little too long as you adjusted the fabric over your chest. Before you could fully settle back onto the couch, he caught your waist with one hand and turned you around so you were sitting sideways on his lap. The movement was seamless, and natural, as though he had done this a hundred times before with you. Which wasn’t nesicarily a lie. 

“Whoa,” you mumbled, caught off guard.

He chuckled softly, his other arm coming around your waist, resting there with a protective ease. “Relax,” he murmured, his voice low and calm. “You look more comfortable here.”

You could feel the warmth of his body against yours, the weight of his arm across your waist grounding you. But what made your breath hitch was the distinct pressure beneath you, the unmistakable hardness pressing against your thigh and lower back. Your cheeks burned as you tried not to squirm, hyperaware of every shift in your position.

Chris’s grip tightened slightly, his thumb brushing the fabric of your shirt in a way that sent a shiver through you. He didn’t say anything about your reaction, but the faint smirk on his lips suggested he knew exactly what you were feeling.

“You good?” he asked, knowing damn well.

You nodded quickly, your hands nervously clutching your knees. “Yeah,” you said, though your voice wavered slightly.

The game continued, though your focus was shot. Every time someone laughed or shouted, it felt like background noise compared to the steady rise and fall of Chris’s chest against your back. His arm stayed firmly around your waist, his fingers occasionally flexing, sending small jolts of heat through you.

Nick rolled another absurd combination and ended up having to kiss Avas neck, which sent everyone into fits of laughter. Ava, still giggling, leaned into Matt, her head resting on his shoulder as the group wound down.

Eventually, the game fizzled out, everyone too tired or too drunk to keep it going. Nick sprawled out on the floor, groaning. “Alright, I call dibs on sleeping in Y/N’s bed,” he announced, throwing an arm over his face dramatically.

You laugh but agree nonetheless. 

“I don’t wanna deal with Chris kicking me all night. And the couch sucks.���

Chris’s arm tensed around your waist for a brief second before he let out a low laugh, leaning back against the couch. “Fine,” he muttered, his tone sharp. “Enjoy.”

Ava stretched, her eyes half-lidded with sleep. “Matt and I are obviously taking my room,” she said, standing and pulling Matt to his feet.

Chris shifted beneath you, his hand dropping from your waist as he gently nudged you to stand. “Guess that leaves me with the couch,” he said casually, though there was an edge to his voice.

You glanced at him as you stood, catching the flicker of something in his expression—annoyance? Frustration? It disappeared as quickly as it came, replaced by his usual smirk.

“Night, Y/N,” he said, his eyes meeting yours for just a moment too long.

“Night,” you mumbled, your cheeks heating again as you turned away, trying not to think about the warmth of his hands or the way your body had reacted to being so close to him.

Nick grabbed your arm, tugging you toward your room with a grin. “Come on, bestie,” he teased. “Let’s crash before Chris decides to steal your bed or hop in with you and kick me out.”

You glanced back briefly, catching Chris settling onto the couch, one arm draped over the back as he watched you leave. His smirk was faint but there, and it stayed with you as you closed the door behind you, trying not to let your thoughts spiral into dangerous territory.

tags: @mattsobvimyfav @sturnsvelocity @ilovejohnnieguilbertsblog @mattsturnii @starstrucktyrantinfluencer @watercolorskyy @strangecatpeach @katie1002

[witchygagirlwrites]

Hank's Girl

Hank Voight x Reader

Blame @desimarie12 👀 and the 2 energy drinks i've had

You and Hank go to the police gala and run into your ex

Um steamy?!?! Companion piece to Really

Moving in with Hank was a big step. You hadn’t originally wanted to take it, not because you didn’t love him. You loved that man more than was reasonable but that was the house he bought with Camille, the one he raised Justin and finished raising Erin in. You felt like you were intruding on something deep but he was right in the fact that you were paying for rent and all utilities for a place you barely stayed at anymore.

It took you weeks to unpack and even longer to feel comfortable enough to say “Home” instead of “Hank’s” the most hilarious thing was the fact that considering you were friends with members of his unit that meant they now saw the inside of his home, something some of them hadn’t never really had happened. 

Tonight was the police gala. Of course the unit was expected to be in attendance. They all had the options to bring dates. Hailey was going with Jay, Kim with Adam and Kevin was going out with a nurse from med Alicia Jones. All the unit had the benefit of wearing their dress uniforms. You on the other hand ended up having to wrangle Alicia to go shopping with you to find a dress that looked presentable enough to be on a sergeant’s arm.

Hank was down in the kitchen waiting on you but you couldn’t get the damn zipper. “Ugh!” you hollered and heard his laughter drifting up the stairs “Sweetheart?” you grabbed your shoes and hoisted the hem of the dress in your hand to walk downstairs “I can’t get the zipper up any further”

You walked over to where he was sitting in a chair at the table and turned to sit in his lap. He chuckled, hands slipping up your hips before you felt the zipper easily tug up into place. “There ya go princess” you went to stand up and felt his hand slide across your ass so you looked over your shoulder at him and he smirked slightly. You shook your head and slipped your heels on then plunked the first one up onto his chest “Since you’re enjoying dressing me so much” 

He gave you a look that said to enjoy this while it lasted before tying your heel up your ankle then pressing a kiss to the top of your foot. He nodded towards the other foot “Let’s get that one down so we can get going”

You felt Hank’s hand on your lower back as you walked into the gala. Numerous cops filled the area along with their dates. You could’ve cared less about any of them,you were looking for your unit. You spotted Kevin first and tapped Hank’s side “I see the kids baby” he shook his head with a laugh like he did any time you referred to his unit as the kids considering you were in their age range.

He used his hand to guide you through the crowd, his gravel filled voice only having to let out an “Excuse me” once for people to get the point and move the hell out of the way.

When you finally got across to the rest of the unit you smiled when you saw them “My god you all look so good in your dress uniforms!” you complemented, looking them over then smiled at Alicia “And that dress looks gorgeous on you” 

They all thanked you in turn and Adam hugged you with one arm, whispering in your ear “It’s still weird at times seeing him smile” you slapped his chest playfully “Oh hush Ruzek” Kim shook her head as everyone started their own conversations amongst the group. You enjoyed any time you got to spend with them all, even at this stuffy of an event.

You were standing at the bar with Hailey and Kim. Kevin and Alicia had already called it a night but Hank had to stay longer so they were toughing it out with you. “It’s amazing seeing the change in him since he’s been with you” Hailey laughed and you felt a grin slip onto your face “I honestly never would’ve thought Hank Voight would be such a good man”

You heard someone scoff behind you and turned to see Detective Daniel Moore, a man you’d gone on maybe two dates with. “What was that?” Kim asked and he shrugged “Nothing, just bullshit hearing the three of you riding Voight’s dick so hard” 

“What the fuck is your problem?” you asked and he smirked at you “At least with these two it’s not literal but damn you’ve fallen far” “You son of a..” you were interrupted by Jay’s voice “Hey, what’s going on over here?” 

“Ask Detective Moore” Hailey bit out and you stared him down, seeing if he’d be so brash in front of Jay. “Was saying it’s a shame three perfectly capable women having to ride someone’s coattails or well in Y/N’s case dick like Voights”

Adam appeared over your shoulder “The fuck did you say?” about the time you spotted Hank step up behind Daniel “I think you need to reconsider how you speak to my girlfriend and my detectives, considering I’d hold their records to yours any day” Hank lowered his voice before adding “and from what I’ve heard you didn’t have much dick to ride anyways boy”

Adam clamped a hand over his mouth but Jay straight up laughed as Daniel turned red and muttered something unintelligible before skittering away. Hank’s eyes were solely on you as he told everyone “Head home. We’re done here tonight” you heard a goodnight from everyone but you were here in place from the look in his eyes. Oh he was pissed by what Daniel had said, a lot more than he was showing.

You walked in the door in front of Hank and could damn near feel the anger rolling off of him. “Let’s go to bed” you offered and he shook his head “I’m gonna stay up a little while. You can head up” 

You shook your head and headed up to the room to change. You wanted out of the dress anyways. You got to the room before you remembered you couldn’t unzip the damn dress. “Hank!”

You walked back down the stairs and he was standing at the bottom of them “What baby?” you turned around “The zipper” he chuckled and you felt his hands on your back before the zipper gave way. Instead of heading up you let the dress fall down your body and pool around your feet on the bottom step. “That’s better” 

He let his eyes trail across your body, taking in the black lace set you’d been wearing under your dress before he nodded up “Head up to bed. I’ll be up in a little while” “Make me” you replied with a grin but saw his eyes darken and knew you’d found a new button to push “What was that?”

You took a step closer, kicking the dress out of the way and letting your clothed breast brush against the material of his dress uniform “I said if you want me to head up to bed then make me”  he shook his head, one hand coming out to wrap loosely around your throat “You already knew I was pissed baby. You’re really gonna be a brat?” you grinned at him and he shook his head “Of fucking course, you love this shit”

He turned you around on the stairs and slapped your ass hard enough a whimper escaped your lips “Get your ass up in that bed. I’m right behind you” you felt his hands on your hips, pulling you back against him and you could feel how hard he was through his dress pants and bit your lip as you rubbed your ass back against him, earning yourself another swat “Go”

______________

You felt his hands on your body the moment you crossed into the bedroom. One hand teased low, almost where you wanted it before slipping away “Since you want to be a brat help me get out of this damn thing”

You turned to face him and started to work on the buttons, your hands shaking slightly and he chuckled when he noticed “What’s wrong baby?” you swallowed hard and continued until you could push the shirt off of him. You started to run your hands over his chest but he shook his head “Didn’t say you could touch me yet”

Your mouth fell open in shock and he winked at you “I’ll take care of you, don’t you worry” you let your tongue flick out to wet your bottom lip before your hands went to the zipper of his pants “Promise?” he grabbed the back of your head to pull you into a rough kiss “Don’t I always?”

You smiled into the kiss before you let your fingers work his zipper down, one hand slipping under his waistband to wrap around his hardened cock and he groaned lightly as he let one hand slip down to push your panties to the side, two thick fingers sinking into you “Hearing that asshole talk about you?” he curled his fingers and your hand stopped moving, going to his hip to hold yourself up “Like he could ever make you feel as good as I do?” he hit that spot inside of you and kept working at it until your legs started to shake and the only thing keeping you upright was his other arm around your waist “Go ahead baby” he whispered and you felt your orgasm hit you, your thighs clenching around his wrist as you sagged against his chest. “I’m gonna make sure by the end of the night that you won’t even recognize him if you see him again” he promised,pushing you back onto the bed “You want me to do that pretty girl?”

You nodded “Please?” he smiled “I love you beautiful” “I love you too Hank” you whispered as he shook his head “My damn little brat” before shoving his pants off his hips. You laid back on the bed and let your legs fall open further and he groaned “Gonna be the fucking death of me yet”

[dadsbongos]

851 words. jimmy wants to kill your mom for you ~~~

Have you ever wanted someone dead?

Jimmy has -does- and it burns him up from the inside. This time hotter than the rest because last time he said it out loud he had a beer bottle thrown at the back of his head. 

Even now something in the back of his throat won’t let him get it out, despite the closest object to you being a tinky black remote. So he watches, silently, as you fold one arm over the over across your chest and bare down the woman that bore you. 

Beneath scratchy teal sheets pulled up to her chin, she sweats simply sleeping. Over those sheets run thin clear tubes, looping around the back of her head and pumping up her nostrils with crisp air. A white slat is pulled over her lap, plastic cups painted with brown and yellow mush streaks littered over it. Spoons drying into each bowl. Jimmy would never be able to guess how much each little scrap is running on your wallet, and he doesn’t care to… or at least tries to tell himself he doesn’t.

Unfortunately, it’s all he thinks about. 

Centered in his chest, just a skosh right of his heart and way above his gut, is that burning sensation telling him the same things over and over. With every visit, the whispering gets louder.

Your mother had insurance, but he’s seen you bent over the kitchen table mumbling about hospital bills either way. Not to mention, with the sour way things look, funeral bills eventually.

“She’s sleeping,” he bites, boot clacking impatiently on the linoleum. 

“I know,” tone firm enough to tell him everything you didn’t say. Conversation fizzles out there for now.

Jimmy knows. You know. Nurses know.

Without that tank clicking oxygen into her chest, she’s gone -- maybe a brief sputter, the final kickback of a motor skimming the bottom barrel for oil, but she’ll die. 

If Jimmy meandered over to the other side of the bed where you weren’t able to see, and if he pinched the tube between thumb and forefinger long enough then she probably wouldn’t even rouse to fight. Twitch, maybe.

You’re better for it, if he does.

He asked you once why you’re trying so hard, pushing so fiercely and more stubbornly than he knows you’ve pushed anything (i thought you hated the old bitch). You just told him to mind his business (fuck you, jimmy, that’s my mother).

Suddenly, you take a step back and shudder, wiping both hands down the length of your face and sniffling, “I gotta pee.”

Red eyes peek at him from between stiff fingers, cracked apart over your cheeks. Bent brows and wobbling lips. You’re not gonna piss, you’re gonna scream into your hands and cry. Which he’s sure the hospital bathrooms see more of than any other fluid.

Jimmy blinks up at you. If you’re going to the bathroom you’re not here.

“Don’t fall in,” he mumbles.

Nodding and patting him on the shoulder as you pass, Jimmy can see the tear glittering down your lashes before you make it out. As soon as your body’s faded from view, and your footsteps fall a little quieter than before: he’s up on his feet. Dirt-stained sneakers cake across the waxy floors, squeaking right up beside your mother.

Brown eyes flick up between the steel door frame once before he’s reaching down for the clear tube -- hesitating inches away, just long enough to visualize his mugshot on the news.

Euthanasia is only legal in dogs, he thinks. Technically, even though she’s got all the conversational skills of broccoli and lays here like a metal beam, this is murder. Could probably get him locked away for the rest of his life. Put behind rusty bars with gnarly types: real murderers, the kinds that decapitate and cut their girls open. Jimmy wouldn’t do that to you, he just wants to kill your mom.

Make your life a little easier.

Her still sucking wind through these flimsy pipes is draining your savings. Gray hairs scattered across your pillow, at this rate the stress of her being alive is going to put you into the grave. Every crash like this is always preceded by her spontaneous burst of good health; she’ll run a marathon just to end up in the ER next month. Pushing and pulling, snuffing out hope just as it flourishes. 

The bipolarity isn’t good for your health. Neither would be having your boyfriend arrested for Mom’s murder.

So he steps on the tube with his foot instead. Shirking hard on the toes to make sure all that sweet air pinches right the fuck off.

Just as he thought, she doesn’t pop up. Barely scrunches that wrinkled, angry face before the twitching starts. First at her shoulders concentrating around the chest, then her legs, and then her hands. Cinching around thin teal sheets like they could do anything for her. They don’t even keep out the cold.

Getting the final act of bereavement finished will be better for you, he knows that. In a weird way, he’s just trying to help.

[urmommt]

ch 2 Sealed with a kiss (jakvik x reader)

I know i said id do like 5k words but the struggle is so real oml. i hope u enjoy this ch and ill work on spitting out more words for the next chapter i promise :>

 “Wakey wakey sleepy head,” yelled the incessant noise of Sky directly into your ear.

“Ugh, leave me alone, Sky. It’s my rest day, and I don’t plan on waking up till noon,” you replied.

“Dude, it’s 3 PM. Get up,” she said.

“IT’S WHAT?! WHY DIDN’T YOU WAKE ME UP SOONER?” you screamed as you jumped up. You had planned on getting some work done on your assignment around now because, at this rate, you’d never get it finished and submitted in time.

You only had one more month to work on it before it had to be sent in, and since you’re a massive procrastinator, you had barely done anything in the past five months while everyone else was busting their asses to get the work finished.

“Considering what you said to me a minute ago, I don’t think you even deserved to wake up now, stink face,” Sky replied.

Sky Young was your best friend. Your bread to your butter. Your cheese to your stick, or however that saying goes. Anyways, you get the idea—you guys were almost inseparable. You’d grown up in the undercity together even though her family was much richer than yours, and you’d moved to the city of Piltover together too since she got accepted at the same time as you did.

When you’d first come, she’d helped out with the expenses and everything, but you paid her back as soon as you got your job at the café, for which she was thankful because people in Zaun, no matter how rich, still struggled in Piltover due to the insane taxes for Zaunites and the fact their currency was less strong than Piltover’s.

She also was your rock when you’d found out about your father’s death, and if it weren’t for her, you really don’t know where you’d be today. Your remembrance of the day you found out was a bit blurred due to the shock of receiving the news. All you know is you woke up one morning, checked the mail, and saw a letter from your father’s boss informing you he’d fallen under some rubble at work and passed away.

As you got up and got ready to study, you remembered you had one more month and so got changed and asked Sky to join you for a day at the academy for sightseeing instead of studying. It’s fine since you had a month anyway, and there was a little scientific event set by the biochem majors today that you really badly wanted to go see.

“Uhhh, I thought you had studying to do today,” Sky said with a raised brow, looking at you in a knowing way.

You stood there looking like an idiot for around a minute before replying very tactfully.

“Nuh uh.”

“Yuh huh. Get your stationery and laptop. We can go see the event, then go to the library to study together. You need to get this assignment going,” she said.

Reluctantly, you agreed and grabbed your bag along with your textbooks, laptop, and a few other little things to go.

The biochemistry event at Piltover University was a bustling affair. The grand hall was filled with displays showcasing innovations and experiments, the air alive with the hum of conversation and the occasional burst of applause. You and Sky wandered through the exhibits, your eyes lighting up at the intricate machinery and complex equations scrawled on presentation boards.

“This is amazing,” you said, pausing to admire a holographic projection of molecular structures. “Makes me wish I had chosen biochem instead of engineering.”

Sky smirked, nudging you. “You’d regret it the moment you saw the workload. Stick to your devices and let these nerds handle the chemicals.”

You laughed, but your attention was soon drawn to a corner of the room where a small crowd had gathered. Curious, you made your way over, Sky trailing behind. At the center of the commotion stood two familiar figures—tall and broad-shouldered, with an easy smile, and lean with a sharp, analytical gaze. Viktor and Jayce.

Your breath hitched as memories of their brief visit to the café flashed in your mind. They were presenting something—a sleek device that pulsed with a faint blue light, its purpose explained in animated gestures by Jayce while Viktor observed the crowd, his gaze suddenly locking on you the moment he noticed you.

“Isn’t that...?” Sky began, but you quickly shushed her, not wanting to draw attention.

“Yes,” you whispered, pulling her to a less conspicuous spot. “They came to the café last week. I made their coffee.”

Sky gave you a look, half-amused, half-curious. “And you’re acting like they’re celebrities because...?”

“I don’t know,” you whined, your eyes involuntarily drifting back to the duo. Jayce was in his element, charming the audience with his enthusiasm, while Viktor’s focus remained unwavering, his sharp eyes scanning the crowd as if seeking something—or someone.

When his gaze landed on you again, a jolt of recognition passed between you. He tilted his head slightly, his expression unreadable, before returning his attention to the presentation. Jayce, meanwhile, finished his explanation with a flourish, earning a round of applause.

“That was something,” Sky said, nudging you again. “You should go talk to them.”

“What? No!” you hissed, horrified at the suggestion. “They wouldn’t even remember me.”

Sky shrugged, her grin mischievous. “Your loss. But don’t come crying to me when you regret it later.”

Ignoring her, you turned your attention back to the exhibits, though your thoughts remained tangled in the brief, charged moment of eye contact. You tried to shake it off, focusing instead on a demonstration involving automated prosthetics. The technology was fascinating, and you couldn’t help but compare it to your own fledgling designs.

“See? Inspiration everywhere,” Sky said, pulling you towards another booth. “Now, let’s soak it all in so you can finish that damn assignment.”

Despite her teasing, you found yourself immersed in the event, the initial awkwardness fading as you absorbed the wealth of ideas and innovation around you. The faces of Viktor and Jayce lingered in the back of your mind, but you pushed them aside, determined to make the most of the day—and to finally tackle your project with renewed focus.

The afternoon flew by as you and Sky explored the event, each booth offering a glimpse into the cutting-edge advancements Piltover was known for. From augmented reality interfaces to bioengineered plants capable of purifying the air, it was a testament to human ingenuity and ambition.

At one booth, a young scientist demonstrated a prototype for a device that could synthesize food molecules, effectively creating meals out of raw elemental compounds. “Imagine,” he said, “no more hunger. No more wasted resources. Just pure efficiency.”

Sky raised an eyebrow. “Sounds like something straight out of a dystopian novel.”

You chuckled, but the comment stayed with you. Piltover’s progress often came at a cost, and the line between innovation and exploitation was razor-thin.

As the event wound down, you and Sky found yourselves back near the presentation area where Viktor and Jayce had been. They were packing up their equipment, their conversation animated yet hushed. You couldn’t hear the words, but their synergy was palpable, each movement and gesture perfectly in sync.

“They make a good team,” Sky observed. “Wonder if they’re as insufferable as they look.”

You snorted. “Jayce, maybe. Viktor? He seems... different.”

“Different how?”

You hesitated, struggling to articulate the impression he left. “I don’t know. Just... quieter. Like he’s always thinking about something important.”

Sky gave you a sidelong glance, her smirk returning. “Sounds like someone’s got a crush.”

“Oh, shut up,” you muttered, swatting at her. But the heat rising in your cheeks betrayed you, and Sky’s laughter echoed as you walked away.

By the time you both finished wondering around the event that evening  you lost track of the time and it had already become 8pm. Although neither of you minded and your mind was still buzzing with ideas from the event. You spread your notes and sketches across the library table and determined to channel your inspiration into tangible progress. Sky, ever the supportive friend, plopped down beside you with her own work, the two of you falling into a comfortable silence broken only by the occasional question or comment.

Yet, as you worked, your thoughts kept drifting back to Viktor and Jayce. Their confidence, their camaraderie, the way they seemed to embody the very essence of Piltover’s ideals. And, of course, the way Viktor’s gaze had lingered just a moment too long.

“Focus,” you muttered to yourself, forcing your attention back to your assignment. There would be time for distractions later. For now, you had work to do.

[distinctlywhumpthing]

It's Never Too Late for Christmas

Alright, look. This might be the fluffiest thing I have ever written. It's barely 1000 words so don't anyone come for me saying I've gone soft. Probably takes place a few weeks after First Night Home. Due credit to @deluxewhump's Wishbone for getting me thinking of the smell of Home. Wow, see what I did there: Full circle.

Previous — Masterlist — Next

“Merry Christmas!” Leo says, immediately wanting to dial it back. He holds out the repurposed brown grocery bag between them. 

Aiden looks down, one arm crossing over his torso. “But...mmm’it’s not…” 

Definitely too much enthusiasm. 

Leo lowers the bag. “Right, yeah. I just thought—well, we only missed it by a few weeks…you know back when we met. I mean… It seemed like…” 

Why had this seemed like a good idea again? 

“It’s nothing big,” he tries but Aiden won’t look at him. Like Aiden’s the one who misstepped instead of vice versa. The kid grips his own arm like it’s a lifeline, fingertips digging into his flesh. Never mind that he’s wearing just a t-shirt in late February. Even with the heat a few degrees warmer than he used to keep it, Leo has to bite his tongue to not ask if he wants a sweatshirt. He tries to limit his questions to the ten thousand a day he can’t avoid. 

“I didn’t even wrap it really,” Leo rushes to say. “It’s never too late for Christmas. ‘Honour it in your heart and try to keep it all the year’, you know—” God, stop talking. “‘Live in the Past, the Present, and the Future’—”

Well, at least he got the kid’s attention. Albeit paired with a confused and I’m-embarrassed-for-you grimace. 

“Please, just take it. Put me out of my misery.” 

Aiden takes a half step back but he does. 

Because Leo told him to. Fuck, this was a terrible idea.  

He holds the bag from the bottom with both hands, as gingerly as if something might be alive in there. His eyes flash up to Leo’s before he reaches inside. He opens his mouth once, twice, like he’s trying to say something, but doesn’t. Instead, he looks to Leo for permission again. 

“Yeah, yeah, go ahead,” he says absently, still stuck on what Aiden stopped himself from saying. 

The way the kid reaches into the bag with all the gusto of sticking his hand into a live fire hollows Leo’s chest. Once his fingers meet fabric instead of whatever horrors he’s expecting, Aiden pulls the bundle out with a little more conviction. 

Leo relieves him of the bag, fingers unconsciously creasing it back up along all the seams, as he watches Aiden unfold the jacket. For the past few weeks, he’s lent Aiden his Carhartt and carried rather than worn an embarrassingly retro ski parka. 

“I—” He looks at Leo, something between disbelief and awe in his face. 

“Try it on—I mean, you can try it on if you want to,” he revises. 

He threads a skinny arm through the first sleeve. 

Leo reaches around to hold the jacket so he can reach the other. “It’s the same size as mine…so you can wear more layers while it’s cold.” 

Aiden fingers the ends of the sleeves. “Thank…you...” 

“The color suits you,” Leo blurts, caught off guard by the shy smile Aiden’s trying to hide while inspecting the coat. A total one-eighty he hopes isn’t just Aiden placating him. 

–––

“Aiden? Are you ready?” Leo calls up the stairs as he heads to the door to get his shoes on. “We need to leave in two minutes if we’re going to—” 

He’s already there. 

Standing by the door with the Converse pulled on, the laces tucked inside, and wearing Leo’s jacket. He bites his lips together as he pulls the zipper up, slow enough for Leo to stop him. When he reaches the top without interruption, he lets his gaze slide over to the new navy jacket, still hanging from its hook, and back to Leo. 

He lets out the laugh he’s been holding in and pulls on the coat. “I knew there was a reason I got this in my size.” 

“Color…mmm’s-s-suits…you,” Aiden says, tucking his chin into the soft collar of the old brown jacket, hiding what Leo is sure is a grin. 

Leo scoops him into a hug. “You’ve been plotting this from the beginning, haven’t you?” He swings them side to side a little, the gentlest roughhousing. Aiden shakes his head against Leo’s chest, he’s laughing now but trying to hide it. “This is absolutely not going to work when I buy you workboots. We are not the same size.” 

Aiden’s reply is muffled so Leo pulls back just far enough for him to lift his head. “Layers,” he repeats, barely able to get it out before he’s shaking with laughter again, pressing his face into Leo’s shoulder.  

“You’re incorrigible.” Before he can overthink it, he presses a chaste kiss to the crown of his head. He smells like home. His home. H— 

Leo backpedals against the possessiveness before he even completes the thought. 

But the part of him that spent countless nights wondering if he’d wake up to an empty house finds it profoundly comforting. The evidence that on the basest, organic level Aiden belongs to this home. Has been engrained in its rhythms and smells. The fabric softener from the sheets he tangles up every night, the lavender shower gel he picked out himself, toothpaste from brushing his teeth after the breakfast they cooked together. 

And not least of all, Leo himself. Wrapped up in his arms and wearing his old jacket. 

Home. 

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[camzeecorner]

𝙲𝙷𝚁𝙸𝚂 𝚂𝚃𝚄𝚁𝙽𝙸𝙾𝙻𝙾 ₊˚ෆ𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐃𝐎𝐍𝐓 𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐌𝐄

smut+angst ღ dividers → @bernardsbendystraws ฅ^._.^ฅ

Everyday was repeatedly the same. It felt like it never got better. Getting worse each day. It felt like a time loop he couldn’t be freed from. Having no way out. He dreaded being there. He hated going through it, suffering all of the pain alone. He hated waking up being himself. Wishing he could change everything. He wasn’t perfect in any way, he couldn’t change the fact that he was stuck. Wishing to be someone different. Wishing he wasn’t Chris Sturniolo.

He had no control over his life. He didn’t even have control over his own mind. Threats rung in his ears barely able to ever escape them. He could never get help. Everyone hated him. It made him miserable. He hated the fact he couldn’t just be better. No matter how hard he tried. He was a loser with no life. He had no one.

Sitting in the back of the class, chris sat silent. Trying as hard as he could to not draw any attention to himself, nibbling softly on his bruised lip as he wrote sloppily over his paper. His body shook slightly at the cold air, making it harder to focus. Lost in his deep thoughts he was interrupted by the slight noise of a cough from above. Looking up through his eyelashes his eyes landed on his teacher.

Clearing his throat he spoke. “I-im sorry.. I’ll focus now. Was just thinking about some stuff, didn’t mean to distract myself.” He spoke quickly, over sharing as usual. As he rambled he looked down at his worksheet. Seeing as he only had about half of the notes he needed he sighed. “Mr.Sturniolo I’m sure you’ll have plenty of time to daydream after school. In my class you listen! I simply don’t care what it is you have going on, you pay attention.. do you hear me?” He teacher scolded him in front of his whole class. Hearing little laughs and snickers from each corner. He had humiliated himself again.

With a small ‘yes’ chris returned back to his notes, trying as hard as he could to focus. As the long minutes passed slowly, you began to pack your things ready for the lunch bell to ring. Hearing the loud chiming sound ring across the school you stood and hurriedly walked to your locker. Approaching your locker you seen your friends. It had became a common thing of meeting here after each class over the years.

“Hi guys!” You greeted them with a smile. Turning to your locker you began putting the code in, with a slight tug opening it. Placing your books in there neatly you checked your mirror making sure you still looked your very best. The last thing you ever wanted to do was be seen as ‘ordinary’. You couldn’t stand the idea of being the same as someone else. Almost gagging at the thought you shut your locker with a huff. Slinging your purse around your shoulder you began to make conversation with your friends.

“Hey!” Your friend shouted. You turned in his direction watching as he shouted from across the hall. You looked around trying to see what he was doing. Until you spotted him. Chris Sturniolo. His target everyday. You couldn’t blame him though, he was easy to get at. It didn’t bother you enough to ever correct him, it wasn’t your situation or place.

Watching as chris looked up slightly, he began walking faster trying to avoid the scene. “Hey! Fucking bitch I’m talking to you!” Your friend angrily shouted. You watched as he pushed chris, knocking him against the lockers. With a thud, chris slammed against the lockers. Wincing from the pain he sat up slowly feeling the ache in his back. Watching as your friend laughed, you rolled your eyes as a small chuckle escaping your lips.

“You think you can ignore me? Fucking freak.” Your friend angrily said. You watched as he got kicked, kneeling over clutching his stomach in pain. You saw as he had small tears forming in his eyes. Almost feeling bad you huffed looking to the side. By now a small crowd had formed around you.

Chris whimpered and cried as he got kicked over and over. Wishing for the torture to be over, he lied there. He gave up, there was no point to fight back. He knew he couldn’t win, so why try? Feeling his hair get pulled, his body came up. He had been dragged down the hall towards you, by the small tangled locks in his hair. You could see the small cuts and bruises and he was slammed down again.

“You fucking stink! Ever hear of a goddamn shower. Ugh!” Your friend pouted at him. Watching chris you felt bad for the first time. It never occurred to you before how mean people really were until now. The beatings never lasted long. It was just a casual game of toss between the two. Or more so with one.

You watched as the crowd slowly walked away, phones in hand recording. Hearing all of their laughter your gut felt weak. You almost wanted to cry. You couldn’t leave him here.

Chris sat in his own blood and tears. He had snot running down his chin as he wiped it with the back of his sleeve. You debated on helping him. I mean you wouldn’t want anyone to leave you, so it was only the right thing.

Crouching down you tapped his shoulder. He looked at you with a swollen lip. His eye had bruised into a dark purple, patches of his hair lay beside him. You could swear this was attempted murder. You frown at him as you sucked in a breath.

“Hey.. I’m sorry about him.” You began. You didn’t really know what you wanted to say, but you couldn’t stay silent anymore. Each day ate you away, you didn’t want to not help him. But what would people think if they say you with a person like him?

Chris cried silently as he gathered his items placing them back into his bag. He stood silently and began to walk off, leaving you and your discomforting words behind.

The next day chris arrived to school, he’d taken all the back hallways in hopes of avoiding everyone. He sat peacefully in the 3rd stall of the bathroom. Eating his lunch silently as he played with the small Lego figures he had in his pockets. Laughing with himself, he felt a small smile form on his face.

He was enjoying the quietness when he had been interrupted with a loud bang. Jumping slightly he panicked putting away all of his things, flushing his food. He pulled his feet up to his chest in hopes of hiding himself. “Come out freak we know you’re in here.” He heard the voice laugh. Looking down Chris gulped, scared of what he’d deal with today.

His breath was held in hopes to be as silent as he could. Feeling the pressure get to himself, he let out a sigh. “Found ya” he heard. He looked above as he saw the familiar face . Without another second he was covered in garbage. They laughed as they dumped garbage over him, remembering how it was weeks old from the kitchen. Spoiled milk stained his clothes as chunks of old food fell off of him.

Hearing cheering and laughter erupt, the bathroom door opened and closed. He waiting a few moments before bursting in tears. He cried and cried until he couldn’t. Feeling the pain overwhelming him. He struggled to breathe as he choked on his own sobs. Feeling the hot tears run down his face.

He burried his face in his hands as he tried to dry his face. Walking to the sink he grabbed multiple rolls of paper towels in hopes of removing as much trash as he could. Finishing he flushed the last of the towels and grabbed his bag. Leaving the bathroom his shoes squeaked as he walked on the hard tiles. He slid slighty, nearly falling. He sighed again and began to move more gently. He walked wherever he feet took him.

Minutes later he found himself standing in front of the door of his own home. Looking down he stared at the pavement. Just watching. He wishes he could have a day of freedom, he really does. Bringing his hand up he slowly turned the key unlocking the door. Pushing the big door open he walked in, being met with the silence.

It had been hours since chris came home. All he could do was lay hopelessly in his bed. Recounting the moments from his life. He’s never been so sad to the point where it got like this. Was it worth it? Will it ever get better? He thought long and hard, thinking as deep as he could. What could he do differently, he wanted nothing more but to fit in. Feeling the tears prickle his eyes he sniffed and ran a hand across his face.

With a soft knock at his door he turned around slowly. Staring at the wooden door, he pushed himself up. Walking painfully slow he reached the door opening it slightly. Being met with none other than his brother.

Of course his brothers didn’t know about his situation, that’s how he liked it. They were older, and they went to college. They had a future, a chance. He wanted nothing but to be perfect like them. They never would have to live through the hell he put up with everyday.

With a small smile Chris looked around, avoiding his gaze. He wasn’t sure if he had been crying hard enough to leave marks, so he better play it safe. “Hey..” he muttered lightly. Matt nodded, signaling a small gesture back. Clearing his throat his began speaking, “hey uh.. you okay? You seem really tired lately.” He asked sincerely.

‘No, Matt. I’m not okay. I’m not even close to being okay. Everyday I go through hell and torture, and I can’t escape it. It’s a long continuous fucking loop and I’m stuck. I can’t get out and I wanna scream. Oh my god all I want to do, is scream. But I can’t, and I don’t know if it’ll ever stop. I just want someone to listen to me and be there. Someone who wont beat me and spit on me. Someone to tell me it’s okay, and hold me tight. I’m so tired and limp I don’t know what to do with myself. Everyday I wake up with this hatred for myself wishing things could be different like I-I can change everything. But I can’t, and I’ll never be able to. So no Matt.. I’m not okay.’

Is all Chris wanted wanted to say. But if he admitted that out loud, it’d make him even more pathetic. With a small exhale chris nodded. “Yea I’m good. Just school, schoolwork is kicking my ass right now.” He lied. He let out a breathy laugh and he bit down on his lip. Matt chuckled lightly, nodding his head in agreement.

“Dude I feel you..” Matt spoke, patting chris on the shoulder in a jokingly way. “But uh hey I came up to say someone’s waiting for you. A classmate I think?” He stated in a confused tone. He pointed behind him as chris followed his direction towards the door. Chris gulped and thanked him. He shut the door walking down the stairs.

Who could be here? Hesitation washed over chris as he reached the bottom step. As he inhaled a sharpe breath he closed his eyes. As his hand reached out for the door he slowly pulled it opened.

“Hi” he heard. He opened his eyes slowly, seeing the girl standing in front of him. She was dressed in loungewear, the type you’d wear around your family or to bed. She had her hair brushed back in bun. He watched as she rocked on her heels. He blinked at her as she stood in front of him. Why the hell was she here?

“You’re probably confused why I’m here..” she chuckled softly. As she ran her hands down her sides as she fixed her sweater slightly. She had a small smile plastered on her face, looking off to the side. With a small nod from chris she laughed nervously. “Well.. you weren’t in school today, teacher asked me to bring you your assignments.” She stated with a small voice.

“Thanks” chris said blankly. She handed him the assignments, tucked neatly under her arm. As he took them from her he glanced over her face, just looking. As he began to turn away shutting the door she put her hand out stopping him.

“Wait!” She shouted. With quick movements Chris opened the door slightly, seeing her flushed face. “I was thinking, maybe we could study together. I mean I’m already here and I’d love to help you catch up.” She offered. She had a warm smile, always in pure bliss.

“You don’t have to do that.” Chris turned down. He nibbled on his lip slightly growing nervous under her trance. She shook her head slightly and smiled again. “No it’s fine I promise! I don’t mind.” She admitted.

With a second guess chris decided to go with it. After all he really did need the help. And he didn’t necessarily see you to be the type to fight, so he felt safe in this moment. Stepping to the side he led you in. Following him up the stairs, you admired all the wall paintings. Running your fingers over each one letting your fingertips dance and glimpse over the cold railing.

Chris turned his head slowly as he looked at her over his shoulder. Feeling his mouth go dry he swallowed. “Uhm.. we can study in here.” He spoke softly. No matter how hard it was for him to stay calm, he did a damn good job of not showing it.

You followed after him into his bedroom. It was an average room, a fairly big bed with a dresser across the room. He had posters on his wall, with small display cases lined against his wall. Besides the small piles of clothes on the floor his room was rather clean. It felt comfortable.

As you sat on his bed beside him you looked at him, admiring the beauty. You found beauty in everyone, everyone was so different it was unique.

As you both studied together, it became obvious that he was tired. Feeling bad you began to pack your bag silently. As you gathered all of your items you straightened out your clothes and stood.

“You’re leaving?” Chris asked softly. You stood in front of him for a moment, debating whether you really did want to leave. “Uhm, well you just looked a little tired.” You said softly. He looked to the side as he scratched the back of his neck softly. He began to tug at the small strands of hair. Growing nervous he bit down on his lip, a habit he’d grown.

“M’not tired.” He said plainly. He looked in your eyes almost pleading you to stay. It had been years since someone visited chris. He missed the comfort of company, the rush of joy he felt was unbelievable. Smiling softly you sat back beside him.

“Did you want to continue studying? Or we can just talk, doesn’t matter.” You said. You were so soft spoken, it was a mystery to Chris why you chose to surround yourself with people he found so evil.

“Uhm we can.. talk? I guess.” He asked hesitantly. You nodded at him. You looked down trying to think of something to converse about. “So uhm, how have you been?” He asked. You looked up, a small smile playing on your face. “I’ve been really good. Schools kinda stressful right now with all the work we’re getting.” You admitted. He nodded in agreement. “Yea.. school is hard.” He said lowly. You gulped as you recalled all the moments where he was bullied. Feeling bad, you bit your tongue.

“Hey.. I’m really sorry about them.” You said. Your voice cracked slightly as you fought back tears. You just felt so bad, you had been so silent. You could’ve helped him. Instead you watched it happen, everyday. And it killed you. He looked away, taken aback by the sudden shift. He huffed out, shutting his eyes briefly. “It’s fine, it’s not your fault.”

“I’d love to be your friend.” You replied nicely. You smiled at him, your cheeks forming into a rosy color. He watched as you fiddled with your thumbs. “You would?” He asked in disbelief. You nodded at him eagerly, a small giggle coming out. He smiled softly at you.

He felt more relaxed as the hours ticked by. His room could be heard of small giggles and loud words. You grew comfortable with chris the more you stayed. Not wanting to go home, you both planned a small sleepover. You’d both skip school tomorrow and spend the day together. You’d wanted to know chris. The real him.

You couldn’t lie to yourself and say chris wasn’t an attractive guy, because he really was. He had perfect teeth, a smile that could light up a room. He had beautiful blue eyes, they were so inviting. His perfectly natural hair. You weren’t sure what everyone else saw, but all you could see was the beauty in him.

“You’re cute, you know that?” You giggled. You tossed your head back laying down on the soft mattress. Turning your head you watched as he laughed softly, picking at his bottom lip with his teeth. His face grew red as he looked down. He shook his head slightly at you. “No im not, are you high?” You bursted into laughter at his comment. Bringing your hands to your face wiping the small tears as you laughed harder. “No no! I’m serious.” You stared at him.

“Come, lay down.” You patted the spot next to you. Watching as he moved upwards slightly, he lied down next to you. You both lay there, looking in each others eyes. You softly reached out tucking a strand of his hair behind his ear. Smiling softly you ran your fingers over his cheek.

“I mean it Chris. You really are beautiful.” You spoke softly. Chris nervously smiled, taking in your words. Leaning his face into your palm he smiled. “Thank you. You’re really pretty.” You smiled, flashing your teeth at him.

You pulled your face closer to his, hovering your lips just above his. Inhaling his scent, it was almost intoxicating. Pulling him close, he felt his lips come in contact with yours. He melted at the soft touch. Pulling away slightly you ran your tongue over your lips.

Kissing him once more you cradled his face, now rolling to your side. You both shared a kiss that you’d both remember forever. The world stopped for a second, it was just you. Nothing else mattered.

You softly ran your tongue over his lips, feeling the peeling skin as he’d bitten at them so much. You felt his mouth open slightly you found your tongues tangled together. Moaning softly in his mouth, you slowly began to grind your hips into his.

As your lips fought together, you became more addicted to his taste. Pulling away slighty you trailed your fingers over his skin. Running your hand down his chest, you slightly pulled his shirt up. Running your fingertips across his bare skin, he sucked in a breath.

As you kissed along his neck he let out small whimpers, by now his cock had slightly hardened. It became harder to contain his noises as he sucked a breath in. Slowly you pulled your face back to his kissing his lips once again.

Slowly you began to climb on top of him, straddling his body. You felt as he ran his hands over your body feeling everything he could. You kissed him deeply inhaling his scent. You moaned in his mouth feeling your body push down. You slowly began to rock your hips, dry humping him.

You felt as his now fully erected cock pushed into your body, hitting your wet core. “Mmhm” you moaned slightly feeling the pleasure hit you. You peppered kisses along his jaw, trailing them down . You kissed each inch of his skin. Showing chris the love he deserved, you smiled at him.

“You’re so perfect.” You spoke in a low voice. Chris watched as you climb farther down, leaving a trail of wet kisses. As you reached his pants you looked up.

“Can I take these off?” You asked lowly. You bit your lip in anticipation, wanting nothing more but to give him pleasure. With a slight nod he gave you permission. “Yes”

As you slid his pants down, he kicked them off as they landed on the floor. Your hands slowly came up as you reached him. Slowly you gently pressed your palm against his cock, pushing down slightly as you ran your hand in an upwards motion.

Chris moaned at the contact as he slowly threw his head back. As you looked up to watch his reaction, you saw as his jaw hung slack as small moans escaped. Smiling at him, you slowly placed small kisses to his clothed cock.

Bringing your hands up your tucked you fingers in the waistband of his boxers. As chris watched you, he slowly saw as you tugged his boxers off slowly. Teasing him you stopped. You smiled at him, as you placed one kiss directly above his cock. You watched as he twitched feeling his body heat up.

Slowly you tugged his boxers down throwing them to the floor. Chris now grew nervous as he looked away. As you look down you stared in awe at his body. He was truly so breathtaking. “So beautiful..” you whispered.

Slowly bringing your hands up, you gently grabbed his cock wrapping your small hands around him. He was an average size, and he was neatly shaved. For a guy who looks like he wouldn’t have the best hygiene he was kept clean and smelled nice.

As your hands lingered on him he whimpered. He watched as you admired him, feeling loved. As precum dropped from his tip you slowly wiped it with your finger, using it as lube. Slowly beginning to jerk him, he lost himself in the feeling. Slowly his breaths grew heavier. Watching as you jerked him slowly he moaned loudly, the feeling too good.

As you tugged at him more it became harder to compose himself. Feeling his body twitch under your touch, his stomach caved in. As he felt hit stomach tighten his body grew stiff. Watching as ropes of white cum flew from him. He moaned, sighing slightly. He had small drops of sweat that made his hair stick to his forehead. As he huffed, his chest rose and fell rapidly.

Slowly you licked the remains of his fluids, tasting the sweet and salty mixture. You hummed at the taste as you licked every drop clean. Pulling yourself upwards you peeling your clothes from your body. Discarding them to the floor you returned to your original position.

As you laid beside chris, he pulled your body closer closing the small gap between you. Feeling his cock slowly push into you, you moaned. Letting out small babbles of incoherent words, you held onto his shoulder steadying yourself.

As your body laid beside him you slowly began to move your body, feeling his cock push into you further. As you let out small moans, he cradled your body. Pulling you closer he slowly rocked his hip, pushing himself in and out of you. Feeling your walls squeeze him.

He moaned softly against your neck, feeling his body sink further into yours. “Oh chris..” your words sending pleasure straight to his cock. You praised him though his movements, pushing him over the edge.

Feeling your walls clench around him you sucked in a breath. Feeling your gut turn your eyes rolled back. Lost in the feeling you felt yourself choke on the air, crying from the pleasure. 

With a couple more final thrust, you felt your stomach tighten and release. Watching as you painted his cock white he followed soon after. Pulling out of you, he came on your stomach. Moaning together you both looked at your mess, feeling happier than ever.

As you lay beside each other, you share another kiss. Pulling away you face grew hot. “I can’t believe we just did that..” chris spoke lowly. He was in pure shock. He never thought he’d lose his virginity to you. “I’m happy we did.” Your voice beamed. You smile at him, pulling his body as close as you could.

Grabbing a cloth Chris wiped your messes, leaving your body clean. As he sunk back into his bed he sighed letting out a breathy laugh. “Thank you.” He mumbled. You gently pressed your head to his chest as your eyes shut softly.

As you laid in bed your bodies tucked under the blankets, you cuddled your body into his. Savoring the warmth and love. You both felt the comfort that you had always wanted.

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