#there will be more good moments !!!! i promise !!

[ch0llies]

EARNED IT | MATTHEW STURNIOLO. PT.5

pt.1 - pt.2 - pt.3 - pt.4

brothersbestfriend!matt x innocent!reader

You're an 18-year-old high school senior, the innocent little sister of Matt's best friend. Which means off-limits in every way. But 22-year-old college hockey player, Matt can't ignore the way you cling to him, asking dangerous questions with trusting eyes. You don't understand the fire you're playing with- but Matt does. And he's burning to teach you what happens when you get too close.

story warnings: smut, unprotected sex (wrap before you tap) p in v, virginity loss, squirting, creampie, multiple rounds, multiple orgasms, corruption kink (if u squint), brothers best friend, getting caught, pet names (sweetheart, angel, my love), age gap (four years), etc. all characters are of age. If any of these topics upset you...don't read!

word count: 6k

ib: @ariestrxsh’s young god

“You’ve earned it now for sure, sweetheart. You ready?”

His words send a sharp thrill down your spine, heat pooling low in your stomach at the sheer possession in his tone. His fingers curl under your chin, tilting your face up further, forcing you to hold his gaze. His blue eyes are still dark, still hazy, but there’s something new simmering beneath the surface now- something wicked, something insatiable.

“Did you like that, angel?” His voice is rough, still laced with the remnants of his pleasure, but now there’s an edge to it- low and dangerous, laced with the promise of something more.

You don’t answer, but the way your breath hitches, the way your thighs press together instinctively, tells him everything he needs to know.

A slow smirk tugs at his lips as his grip shifts, fingers ghosting along your jaw before trailing lower, his knuckles grazing the rapid pulse at your throat. His touch is featherlight, teasing, as if testing just how much you can take.

“You’ve were so good for me,” he murmurs, his thumb swiping across your lower lip, pressing just enough to part your lips slightly. “I think it’s time I take care of you again, yeah?”

The anticipation coils tight in your stomach as he leans forward, his breath hot against your skin. His free hand slides down, fingertips skimming your arm before tracing over your waist, your hips, until he’s gripping you firmly, pulling you closer.

“You want that, don’t you, sweetheart?” he purrs, his lips brushing just below your ear, the warmth of his breath sending shivers down your spine.

Your body betrays you before you can even answer- your fingers gripping onto his thighs, your breath coming out in a shaky exhale.

Matt chuckles, low and knowing, the sound vibrating against your skin.

“That’s what I thought.”

His hands tighten, his grip firm and unyielding as he pulls you onto his lap in one swift motion, your knees bracketing his hips, your hands landing against his chest. His skin is still warm, his dick hard beneath your slick heat.

The way his gaze drags over you- slow, possessive, like he’s already imagining all the ways he’s about to ruin you makes your stomach flip.

His hands slide down, gripping your hips, holding you there like he’s savoring the moment, like he’s memorizing the way you feel against him.

“You’re shaking,” he notes, voice dark with amusement. “What’s the matter, angel? Too much?”

You shake your head, but he tuts, tilting his head.

“No? Then why don’t you show me just how much you can take?”

The challenge hangs between you, thick with heat, and before you can second-guess yourself, your fingers dig into his shoulders, and you move- shifting against him, running your slick folds him. You don’t know why you’re doing it, but for whatever reason you had the painful urge to create friction between you and him.

Matt’s breath hisses through his teeth, his grip on your hips tightening like a warning.

“Careful, sweetheart, ” he murmurs, his voice dropping an octave, rough with restraint. “You have no idea what you’re getting yourself into.”

You don’t understand what he’s saying and your mind is too polluted with the feeling of him hard and warm against you so you shift again, just slightly, and that’s all it takes. Matt’s patience snaps.

A low growl rumbles from his chest, and before you can react, his hands tighten on your hips, fingers digging into your soft flesh as he moves.

Your gasp barely has time to escape before you’re in the air, weightless for a moment as he lifts you with ease. Your arms instinctively wrap around his neck, legs dangling around his waist as he carries you, his grip firm and unyielding, his movements purposeful.

Your heart pounds, breath catching in your throat as he strides across your room.

“You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this,” Matt murmurs against your ear, his voice deep and wrecked, laced with something raw, something possessive.

Your body shivers in response, your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt, clinging to him, your nerves warring with your excitement.

You feel your cool silk sheets against your back as he lays you down, his weight following immediately after, pressing you into the mattress.

His hands roam, slow and deliberate, as if savoring the feeling of you beneath him. His blue eyes are dark, hooded, filled with something almost reverent as he takes you in- every curve, every inch of skin exposed to him.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs, his fingers tracing a slow, teasing path down your side, his touch featherlight, making you shiver.

His lips find yours- soft at first, coaxing, but quickly turning hungry, desperate. He kisses you like he’s been starving, like he can’t get enough, his hands never still, never stopping.

“You sure about this?” he rasps against your lips, his forehead pressed against yours, his breath hot, uneven.

The concern in his voice tugs at something deep in your chest, and it only makes you fall harder.

You nod, biting your lip, eyes wide and full of trust as you whisper, “I want this. I want you.”

Matt groans, his hand slipping beneath your thigh, dragging it higher around his waist as his lips move to your neck, leaving a trail of slow, open-mouthed kisses.

“You have no idea what you do to me,” he murmurs, his voice rough with restraint, his self-control hanging by a thread.

But he won’t rush. Not with you. Not when he finally has you where he’s always wanted you- completely his.

And tonight that’s exactly what you’ll be.

Matt exhales sharply, his forehead pressing against yours for just a second as he gathers himself, as if grounding himself in this moment. His fingers trail lightly along your side, tracing the delicate curve of your waist, his touch so careful- like he’s handling something precious.

Because to him, you are.

“You’re nervous,” he murmurs, his voice softer now, lower, laced with something almost tender. His fingertips ghost over your arm, your shoulder, leaving goosebumps in their wake. “It’s okay, my love. You don’t have to pretend you’re not.”

Your breath hitches, and you nod, your fingers clutching at the fabric of his shirt as you try to steady yourself. He’s right- you are nervous. Your heart is racing, your stomach tight with anticipation, with the weight of everything this moment means. But you trust him.

“I just… I don’t know what to do,” you whisper softly, your voice a squeak. Your cheeks heat at the confession even though he already knows. It’s still embarrassing to you how inexperienced you sound, how vulnerable.

Matt groans, his hands flexing against your hips. “Fuck,” he breathes, shaking his head slightly, like he’s trying to rein himself in. “You have no idea how much that turns me on, do you?”

Your lips part, confused, and his gaze darkens, his fingers tilting your chin up.

“You’re so innocent,” he murmurs, almost to himself, like he can’t believe it, like it’s something he’s savoring. “So sweet. So fucking pure.”

His thumb brushes against your lower lip, dragging it down slightly, and his eyes flicker up to meet yours. “And you’re giving yourself to me,” he says, voice thick, reverent. “Letting me be your first.”

A shiver runs down your spine at the weight of his words, at the intensity in his gaze, like he’s memorizing every second of this, like this means just as much to him as it does to you.

“I want it to be you,” you whisper, your fingers curling around his wrist, holding onto him, grounding yourself in him. “I trust you, Matt.”

He groans again, low and wrecked, his restraint visibly unraveling at the edges. “Jesus Christ, sweetheart,” he mutters, pressing a kiss to your forehead, your cheek, your jaw. “You’re gonna be the death of me.”

His lips trail lower, slow and deliberate, down your throat, to the sensitive spot just beneath your ear. He takes his time, pressing soft, lingering kisses to every inch of exposed skin, his hands never rushing, never demanding.

“You don’t have to do anything,” he reassures you, his voice gentle but firm. “Just let me take care of you. Let me show you how good I can make you feel.”

His fingers slide down your sides, mapping out your body with reverence, learning you, memorizing you. He’s slow, patient, making sure you feel everything, making sure you have time to adjust, to breathe.

“You’re so soft,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against your collarbone. “So perfect.”

Matt hovers over you, his weight supported on his forearms as he strokes your cheek with the back of his fingers, his touch impossibly gentle. His blue eyes search yours, dark but soft, so full of something deep and unspoken.

“You’re absolutely sure?” His voice is rough, barely above a whisper, but beneath it is a layer of concern, of restraint.

You nod, swallowing hard, your fingers twisting in the fabric of his shirt. “Yes,” you whisper, your voice trembling slightly. “I want you.”

Matt exhales slowly, his jaw clenching like he’s trying to keep himself in check. “Okay, angel,” he murmurs, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to your forehead. “I’ve got you.”

His hand traces down your sides again, warm and steady, grounding you as he uses his other hand to position himself, swiping the head of his cock through your slick folds a few times, collecting your arousal that’s dripping onto your thighs.

You both moan at the contact, your eyes glued to his cock, his eyes glued to you. Every movement is unhurried and deliberate- like he’s savoring every second, like he’s making sure you’re ready.

But when he finally starts to push in, your breath catches- your entire body tensing at the unfamiliar stretch, the slow, burning pressure.

Matt freezes immediately, his grip on your waist tightening as his forehead drops against yours. “Shit,” he breathes, voice tight. “You’re so -fuck- so tight, angel.”

A small whimper escapes you, your nails digging into his shoulders. It’s more than you expected- it aches, a deep, overwhelming pressure that steals the breath from your lungs.

Tears prick at the corners of your eyes. “Matt-” Your voice wobbles and comes out small and uncertain. You knew he looked big, but you didn’t know it would feel this big.

His head snaps up, and the second he sees your expression, his entire demeanor shifts. His hands cup your face instantly, his thumbs wiping at the wetness gathering beneath your lashes.

“Hey, hey- sweetheart, it’s okay,” he murmurs, his voice softer now, soothing. “I’ve got you. We don’t have to do this, okay? Just say the word, and we stop.”

You shake your head quickly, your fingers tightening around his biceps. “No- I want to,” you insist, though your voice is barely a whisper. “It just… it just hurts a little.”

Matt swallows hard, his restraint written all over his face, but he doesn’t move, doesn’t push any further. Instead, he leans down, pressing a slow, tender kiss to your lips.

“You’re doing so good, sweetheart,” he breathes against your mouth. “So good for me.”

His hands stroke your sides, slow and reassuring, easing the tension in your body. He kisses you again. Kisses your lips, your jaw, your neck- each one gentle, patient, as he gives you time to adjust.

“Just breathe for me,” he murmurs, nuzzling into the crook of your neck. “Relax, my love. Let me in.”

You take a shaky breath, trying to will your body to unclench, and slowly, bit by bit, the burn starts to fade. It’s still overwhelming, still a stretch, but the pain begins to dull, replaced by something warmer, something deeper.

Matt watches your face carefully, his fingers brushing soothing circles into your skin. “Better?” he asks, voice barely above a whisper.

You nod hesitantly. “Yeah… better.”

He exhales in relief, pressing another soft kiss to your lips before he moves, just a little, just enough to make you gasp.

“That’s it, baby,” he murmurs against your skin. “You’re taking me so well.”

You feel so impossibly full- stretched beyond anything you ever thought possible. It’s overwhelming, an ache that borders on too much, like your body is being split apart, struggling to take all of him.

A fresh wave of tears prick at your eyes, your breath coming in shaky, uneven gasps as you shift slightly, trying to adjust.

“Are you… are you all the way in?” you whisper, your voice small.

You prop yourself up on trembling elbows, forcing yourself to look down and the second your gaze lands between your bodies, your stomach drops.

He’s not even halfway there.

Your eyes widen, lips parting in silent disbelief, and when you snap your head up to meet his gaze, Matt is already watching you.

His blue eyes are dark, searching, laced with nothing but pure lust, his jaw tight as he takes in your expression.

“Sweetheart,” he murmurs, voice low, strained, like he’s barely holding on.

You swallow thickly, your fingers clutching onto his arms, your entire body trembling beneath him.

“I…” You trail off, unable to form words, the realization hitting you like a freight train as you lay back down.

Matt exhales sharply, his forehead pressing against yours, his breath hot and uneven.

“We’ll go slow,” he murmurs. His hands stroke over your thighs, your waist, smoothing over your skin in silent reassurance. “I’ve got you. I promise.”

His lips brush against yours, soft and patient, as he whispers against your mouth. “Just breathe for me.”

And as he finally, finally sinks in all the way, filling you completely, his hands never stop touching you, never stop soothing you.

Matt stills the moment he’s fully inside you, his breath ragged, his arms nearly trembling as he holds himself still. His forehead presses against yours, and for a long moment, the only sound in the room is the shared rhythm of your breathing, the quiet hum of your bodies pressed so intimately together.

“Fuck,” he rasps, his voice barely above a whisper. “You feel so good, angel- so warm, so tight.”

You whimper softly, still adjusting to the overwhelming fullness, the deep stretch that leaves you breathless. Your body is still tense, still unsure, but Matt doesn’t move, doesn’t rush, doesn’t do anything except hold you close, his lips brushing against your cheek, your jaw, the tip of your nose.

“You okay?” he murmurs, his fingers tracing slow, comforting circles against your hip.

You nod hesitantly, your hands clutching at his shoulders, your fingers digging into the firm muscle beneath your touch. “It’s… a lot,” you admit, your voice small, shaky.

Matt exhales sharply, his grip tightening like he’s barely holding himself together. “I know, my love,” he soothes, pressing a lingering kiss to your lips. “I know. Just breathe for me, yeah? Let your body relax.”

His hands continue moving- gliding up and down your sides, ghosting over your stomach, slipping beneath your thighs to pull you just a little closer. He kisses you again, deep and slow, his tongue tracing along your lower lip, distracting you, coaxing you into letting go of the last bit of tension.

And when you finally, finally exhale, your muscles softening beneath him, Matt groans, his jaw clenching.

“That’s it,” he breathes. “That’s my good girl.”

He pulls out just an inch before easing back in, slow and careful, watching your face the entire time. You gasp, nails digging into his back, overwhelmed by the sensation, the way he fills you so completely, like he was made to fit against you, inside you.

Matt’s breathing is ragged now, his control visibly fraying, but he keeps his pace slow, keeps his movements gentle as he only pushes about and inch out and back into you. “You’re so fucking perfect,” he murmurs, kissing along your jaw. “Taking me so well- being so good for me.”

Your body starts to adjust, the discomfort slowly fading, replaced by something warmer, something that makes your toes curl and your breath stutter. A soft moan escapes you, and Matt groans in response, his fingers tightening against your hips.

“That’s it,” he encourages, his voice rough, strained. “Feels better, doesn’t it?”

You nod breathlessly, your hands sliding up his arms, over his shoulders, clinging to him as the warmth between your legs grows, the pleasure building in slow, tantalizing waves.

“Please,” you whisper, not even sure what you’re begging for, only knowing that you don’t want him to stop, don’t want this moment to end.

Matt groans like the sound of your voice is his undoing. “Fuck,” he breathes, his movements still slow but deeper now, more deliberate. “You’re gonna drive me insane.”

He presses his forehead against yours, his breath hot against your lips, his body moving against yours in a rhythm that feels like a confession, like worship. Every roll of his hips is measured, controlled, like he’s savoring you, like he wants this to last forever.

“You’re mine now,” he murmurs, kissing the corner of your mouth, his voice thick with possession. “You know that, right?”

You shiver beneath him, nodding without hesitation. “Yes,” you whisper.

His lips curl into a smirk against your skin, and his fingers lace with yours, pinning your hands above your head.

“Good girl.”

And then he moves, slow and deep and perfect, and you finally, finally surrender completely.

Matt’s slow, controlled thrusts start to falter, his breathing growing heavier, more uneven. He’s been holding back, reining himself in, treating you like something fragile, something delicate. But the second you moan his name, the second your nails scrape down his back, something snaps inside him.

“Fuck-” he groans, his grip on your hips tightening. “You’re so fucking tight, baby. So perfect for me. I can’t hold back anymore. Tell me if you need me to stop, yeah?”

His pace picks up immediately, his movements more desperate, more intense. The deep, steady thrusts give way to something rougher, something needier, like he can’t get enough of you, like he needs to feel every inch of you wrapped around him.

“You wanted this, didn’t you?” he growls against your ear, his voice dark, strained with pleasure. “Wanted me to ruin you?”

You whimper beneath him, barely able to form words, your body overwhelmed by the way he’s taking you now, by the way he’s making you feel.

He smirks against your neck, biting down just enough to make you gasp. “Look at you,” he murmurs, his lips tracing down your jaw. “Taking me so fucking well. Such a good girl for me.”

His words send a fresh wave of heat through you, your body arching against him, craving more. He notices, of course he notices, and groans, one hand slipping between your bodies, fingers finding the most sensitive part of you.

“Fuck- listen to you,” he breathes, his fingers working you in slow, devastating circles. “So fucking needy for me. You like this, don’t you? Like being my good girl?”

You nod frantically, barely able to think straight, the pleasure building so fast it leaves you dizzy.

Matt chuckles, dark and satisfied, his other hand gripping your thigh, pulling your leg over his shoulder to take him even deeper.

“That’s it, baby,” he groans, his pace relentless now, his hips slamming into yours with every thrust. “God, you feel so fucking good. So perfect. All mine.”

You’re close- you can feel it, the pleasure coiling tight, ready to snap. Your hands grip his shoulders, your body trembling beneath him, and he notices that too.

“You gonna cum for me, sweetheart?” he murmurs against your lips. “Gonna let me feel you fall apart on me?”

You nod, whimpering his name, and that’s all he needs.

His fingers move faster, his thrusts growing rougher, deeper, hitting that spot that makes you cry out, your entire body tightening around him.

“Come on,” he groans, his voice wrecked. “Be the good girl you know you are and cum for me.”

Everything shatters.

Pleasure crashes over you, white-hot and overwhelming, your entire body trembling as you fall apart beneath him.

Matt groans, feeling your body tense and shudder around him as your climax washes over you. Your nails dig into his shoulders, your breath coming in sharp, uneven gasps, and he watches you unravel beneath him with a look of pure possession.

“That’s it, baby,” he breathes, his fingers still working you through your high, dragging out every last pulse of pleasure. “So fucking beautiful when you cum around me.”

But he isn’t done. Not even close.

His hips never stop moving, never stop thrusting deep into you, and the overstimulation has you whimpering, your body twitching as he keeps pushing you past your limit.

“Too much?” he teases, smirking against your neck as he rolls his hips just right, making your back arch off the bed. “You can take it, sweetheart. Just let me make you feel good.”

You whimper, overwhelmed, but the heat in your stomach is already building again, the sensitivity morphing into another wave of unbearable pleasure.

“You wanted me to make you feel good, didn’t you?” Matt growls, his hands gripping your thighs, spreading you open wider as he pounds into you with deep, bruising thrusts. “Wanted me to use this perfect untouched little body until you crumble?”

You can’t even answer, your words turning into breathless moans, and Matt groans, his pace rough and unrelenting.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he growls, his head falling against your shoulder, his breath hot against your skin. “So tight, so fucking perfect- God, I’m not gonna stop. Not until I’ve had my fill of you.”

He moves your other leg over his shoulder, sinking even deeper, and you cry out, your whole body jolting from the intensity of it.

“That’s it,” he praises, his hands roaming over your body, gripping your waist, your thighs, your breasts. “Let me hear you, sweetheart. Let me hear how good I make you feel.”

You’re already close again- your body hasn’t had time to recover, the pleasure slamming into you with relentless force.

“You gonna cum for me again?” Matt grits out, his voice wrecked, strained. “Come on, baby, give me another- wanna feel you squeeze me again.”

His fingers press harder, rubbing tight, devastating circles against your swollen clit, matching the deep, punishing rhythm of his hips. The pressure is unbearable, the heat coiling so tightly in your stomach that you can barely breathe.

“Matt-” you gasp, your entire body locking up, your back arching as white-hot pleasure rips through you.

But this time it’s different.

Your orgasm hits you like a fucking tidal wave, crashing into you with so much force that your vision blurs, your breath catches, your legs shake uncontrollably over his shoulders. A sharp, helpless cry rips from your throat as your body clenches so hard around him that he groans, his rhythm faltering.

A sudden rush of liquid spills between you, soaking the sheets, drenching his stomach, your thighs, everything.

For a split second, your mind goes blank.

Your body shudders violently, your chest heaving, your limbs weak, your head spinning.

Matt stills.

You’re panting, shaking, blinking up at him in shock, completely dazed, barely able to comprehend what just happened.

Matt exhales sharply, his jaw tightening, his fingers digging into your hips as he pulls back slightly, looking down at the mess between you.

His lips part, his eyes darkening, and then he lets out a low, guttural groan.

“Holy fuck.”

Your face burns, your stomach twisting in embarrassment. You have no idea what just happened.

“Oh my god,” you whisper, mortified, trying to close your legs, trying to hide, but Matt’s hands clamp down on your thighs, spreading you open again.

“Don’t you fucking dare,” he growls, his voice low, feral, dripping with pure, unfiltered desire. His thumb swipes through the wetness, his breath shaky, his body tense.

“You just fucking squirted all over me,” he mutters, almost like he can’t believe it, like it’s the hottest thing he’s ever seen.

You let out a small, humiliated whimper, covering your face with your hands, but Matt just chuckles darkly, shaking his head.

“Sweetheart,” he purrs, grabbing your wrists and pinning them above your head, caging you in. “You think I’d be anything other than completely fucking obsessed with this?”

Your eyes widen as he grinds against you again, still hard, still throbbing inside you.

“You’re gonna do that again,” he murmurs, his tongue flicking against your pulse, his hips pulling back only to slam into you again.

“And this time, I want you to scream my name when you do it.”

Matt doesn’t give you a second to recover- doesn’t give you time to process what just happened.

Before you can catch your breath, before you can even close your legs, he’s already moving again, thrusting deep into you, stretching you all over again, his hands gripping your hips like he never wants to let go.

“Oh my god- Matt-” you gasp, your voice wrecked, shaking, your entire body still tingling from the last orgasm.

But Matt- Matt is relentless.

“That’s right, sweetheart, say my fuckin name,” he growls, snapping his hips forward, his pace turning brutal, needy, unforgiving. “You’re gonna give me another one. I know you can.”

His fingers slip between your bodies, rubbing tight, torturous circles over your clit again, zeroing in on your most sensitive spot.

You whimper, thrash, tremble, the pleasure too much, too overwhelming, too intense.

“Matt- I-” you choke out, your legs twitching, your thighs trying to squeeze together, but he doesn’t let you.

“Shh, sweetheart,” he murmurs, his voice rough, desperate, obsessed. “Let it happen. Let me see you cum all over me like that again.”

His pace grows punishing, his fingers unrelenting, and you can feel it building again.

The heat, the pressure, the sharp coil of pleasure tightening in your stomach so fast it nearly blinds you.

You try to fight it- try to pull away, the overstimulation too much, too intense.

But Matt doesn’t let you.

“Don’t you fucking run from it,” he growls, pinning you down, holding you still, his breath hot against your ear. “Be a good girl and fucking take it.”

That’s all it takes.

Your body seizes, your back arching off the bed, and then-

A sharp, helpless scream rips from your throat as another rush of liquid spills from you, gushing between your legs, soaking the sheets, drenching him all over again.

“Holy fuck-” Matt groans, his jaw clenching, his hips faltering as he watches it happen, as he feels it happen.

Your entire body shakes, your vision going white, your mind blanking completely as wave after wave of pleasure crashes into you.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he growls, his voice strained, wrecked, completely gone as he pounds into you one last time.

“Fuck- Y/N-”

.A deep, wrecked groan tears from his throat as he buries himself inside you, his entire body shuddering as he spills into you, his fingers gripping you like he never wants to let go.

For a moment, the room is silent except for the sound of your heavy breathing, the warm press of your bodies still tangled together as he pulls out.

Matt collapses against you, his lips brushing over your damp skin as he exhales shakily. “Fuck,” he mutters, still catching his breath. “You’re… unreal.”

You hum softly, your fingers tracing lazy patterns on his back, your body still trembling from the aftershocks. But just when you think you’re done, Matt’s lips curl into a smirk against your skin.

“You didn’t think we were finished, did you?” he murmurs, his hands already sliding down your body, already spreading your legs apart again.

Your breath hitches. “Matt-”

But he’s already kissing down your body, already pressing his fingers against your still-sensitive core.

“You can give me one more,” he coaxes, his voice smooth, confident. “And then another. And then another.”

His blue eyes flicker up to yours, dark and filled with something insatiable.

“You’re mine for the night, sweetheart,” he murmurs, his lips ghosting over your inner thigh. “And I’m nowhere near done with you yet.”

Within seconds he’s moving again, his hands pulling the teeshirt over his head and throwing it across the room, hands gripping your thighs and spreading you open beneath him. His blue eyes are dark, wild, still hungry as he drags his fingers down your oversensitive core, teasing, testing.

“You can give me more, baby,” he murmurs, his voice low, coaxing. “I know you can.”

Your body jolts as his fingers slip between your folds, his touch slow but deliberate, rubbing slow, lazy circles against your already throbbing clit. A cry escapes your lips, your body twitching from the complete and utter overstimulation, but he just smirks, watching you squirm beneath him.

“Too much?” he teases, tilting his head as he leans down, kissing the corner of your mouth. “That’s what you said last time, too- and look at you now.”

His fingers push inside you, and you gasp, your nails digging into his arms as he starts pumping them at a devastating pace, curling them just right. His thumb continues rubbing tight circles against your clit, and the pleasure slams into you again, sharp and overwhelming.

“Matt- ” you cry out, but your words dissolve into breathless moans as he keeps working you, his lips trailing down your neck, sucking and nipping at the sensitive skin.

“Shh, my love,” he soothes, his other hand gripping your thigh, keeping you spread open for him. “Just let me make you feel good again.”

His fingers work you faster, deeper, and you’re already spiraling, already teetering on the edge again, your body writhing beneath him. He watches your face, his lips curling into a smirk as he sees the way your eyes squeeze shut, the way your mouth parts in desperate pleasure.

“That’s it,” he murmurs, his breath hot against your skin. “Cum for me again, sweetheart. Let me feel you fall apart.”

It crashes over you so fast you barely have time to prepare- your 5th orgasm of the night tearing through you, your entire body seizing up as you cry out his name, your hands clutching onto him like he’s the only thing grounding you.

Matt groans, feeling the way you clench around his fingers, the way your body trembles from the sheer force of it. He keeps his movements steady, dragging out your pleasure until you’re twitching from the overstimulation, whimpering against his shoulder.

“God damn,” he breathes, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses against your jaw. “So fucking good for me. So fucking perfect.”

But he’s not done. Before you can even process what’s happening, he’s gripping your hips and flipping you over onto your stomach, pulling you up onto your hands and knees. Your breath catches, your body still trembling, but Matt’s hands are firm, steady, guiding you exactly where he wants you.

“You can give me one more,” he murmurs, his hands smoothing over your hips before gripping them tight. “Just one more, baby.”

He pushes inside you in one slow, deep thrust, and the stretch makes you gasp, your fingers gripping the sheets as he fills you up completely.

“Fuck,” Matt groans, his hands tightening on your waist. “You’re still so fucking tight. How are you still this tight?”

He pulls out almost completely before slamming back in, and you let out a strangled moan, your back arching as he sets a brutal, relentless pace.

“God, you feel so fucking good,” he growls, his fingers digging into your hips as he fucks you harder and unbelievably faster and deeper, like he’s finally letting himself go. “So fucking perfect for me.”

His hands slide up your back, one gripping the back of your neck, the other slipping between your legs, rubbing rough, desperate circles against your puffy and abused clit. Your body jolts at the contact, pleasure coiling tight in your stomach again, and Matt groans at the way you squeeze around him.

“That’s it, baby,” he breathes, his thrusts turning erratic, desperate. “One more. Come with me this time.”

You’re so close, the pleasure slamming into you so hard it leaves you breathless. Matt’s grip tightens, his movements growing frantic, and his voice is wrecked as he whispers,

“You’re mine, baby. All fucking mine.”

The possessiveness in his voice, the way he’s taking you, claiming you—it sends lightning through your veins, the coil in your stomach tightening dangerously fast.

“Matty- ” you choke out, your nails digging into his back, your body clenching around him, and he feels it, notices it, because his thrusts somehow become even harder, faster and deeper.

“That’s it, sweetheart, don’t hold back,” he groans, his thumb slipping between you, pressing even rougher circles against your swollen clit. “You’re gonna come for me again. I can feel it.”

His free hand grips your thigh, spreading you even wider for him, letting him sink in even deeper, hitting that spot that has you seeing stars.

It’s too much.

Your whole body locks up, your mouth falling open as a strangled, wrecked cry rips from your throat. Your orgasm slams into you, wave after violent wave, and you can’t stop it-

The release pours out of you, drenching the sheets, soaking him, the mess between you completely obscene.

Matt loses it.

“Holy fucking shit-” he groans loudly, his hips slamming into you one last time, his entire body tensing hard as he buries himself deep inside you.

His release spills into you again, hot and endless, mixing with yours, his grip on you tightening, his body shuddering from the sheer force of it.

Matt finally pulls out, groaning softly as he watches his release spill out of you, dripping onto the already ruined sheets beneath you. He lets out a breathless chuckle, shaking his head.

“Jesus, sweetheart,” he murmurs, brushing a hand through his sweat-dampened hair, looking down at the complete mess you both made. “We absolutely destroyed these sheets.”

You let out a whimper, covering your face with your hands, still dazed, still trembling from everything that just happened.

Matt grins, pressing a soft, teasing kiss against your temple before rolling off the bed.

“Stay there,” he murmurs, pulling the soaking wet sheets off the mattress in one swift motion. The fabric lands on the floor with a heavy thud, and he’s already reaching for fresh ones, moving quickly, effortlessly, like he’s done this before.

Your face burns at the thought.

Matt glances over his shoulder at you, smirking, noticing your expression.

“Don’t go getting all shy on me now, baby,” he teases, snapping the new sheet over the mattress, smoothing it out with practiced ease. “Not after you just squirted all over me, what? Three times?”

You groan, burying your face in a pillow as he lets out a low, satisfied laugh.

“Adorable,” he muses, tossing the ruined sheets into the corner before climbing back into bed beside you, immediately pulling you into his arms.

“All set, sweetheart,” he murmurs against your hair, grinning as he wraps himself around you again. “Now get over here and let me hold you.”

And even as exhaustion starts to take over, his grip never loosens- his body never stops pressing against yours, holding you close like he never wants to let go.

Matt groans softly, still catching his breath, his arms wrapped securely around you. His body is warm, his skin slick with sweat, but neither of you move for a long moment, both too blissed out, too exhausted.

You’re still blushing furiously, the aftermath of everything settling in.

But there’s one thing you can’t quite wrap your head around.

You shift slightly, looking up at him with wide, confused eyes, your fingers playing with the hem of the blanket.

“Matt…” you murmur, your voice small.

He hums in response, his fingers tracing lazy circles on your hip.

You hesitate before finally asking, genuine confusion in your tone,

“…What happened to me… when I… you know?”

Matt stills.

His lips twitch, and he lifts his head slightly, brows raising as he looks at you, almost like he didn’t hear you right.

“You mean… when you came?” he asks carefully, watching your expression.

You chew on your lip, your cheeks burning, your body curling in on itself slightly.

“I- I don’t know,” you mumble, feeling incredibly shy. “I just… it felt really good but then- then it was like…a lot.”

Matt’s eyes darken, his grip tightening slightly on your hip as he exhales through his nose, clearly holding back a smirk.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he breathes, amusement lacing his voice. “You really don’t know?”

You shake your head quickly, suddenly mortified.

Matt grins, propping himself up on his elbow, gazing down at you like he’s completely enamored.

“Baby,” he murmurs, brushing your hair back, his thumb stroking your cheek. “You squirted. Like I said”

You blink.

Your brows furrow, and you shift under the blanket, pulling it closer around you, feeling smaller, embarrassed.

“I- what?”

Matt chuckles, clearly loving this.

“You know…” he smirks, leaning in slightly, his voice dropping to a low murmur. “When a girl gets so worked up, so completely lost in pleasure that she-”

He gestures vaguely to the soaked sheets on the floor.

You follow his gaze- and suddenly, realization dawns.

Your eyes widen, your face going completely red, and you whip your head back to him, absolutely mortified.

“MATT!” you squeak, hiding your face in your hands.

He laughs, genuinely laughs, shaking his head as he pulls your hands away, his grip gentle but firm.

“Hey, hey,” he soothes, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. “Don’t get all embarrassed. That was the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.”

You groan, your cheeks burning, trying to turn away from him, but he won’t let you.

“Sweetheart,” he purrs, tilting your chin up so you have to look at him.

His blue eyes are dark, filled with something warm, something possessive.

“You have no idea how much that turned me on,” he murmurs. “How fucking good you looked when you let go like that.”

Your stomach flutters violently, and you bury your face in his chest, whining softly.

Matt just laughs again, wrapping his arms tighter around you, completely obsessed with your innocence, your sweetness.

Then he shifts.

You blink up at him, bleary-eyed, as he carefully untangles himself from you and swings his legs over the side of the bed.

“Where are you going?” you murmur sleepily, frowning as you reach for him.

Matt chuckles, shaking his head as he stands. “Relax, sweetheart. I just need to clean you up.”

That wakes you up a little more.

You sit up, your brow furrowing in confusion. “You need to… what?”

Matt glances at you over his shoulder, smirking. “Clean you up,” he repeats simply, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. He grabs a clean rag from the dresser and disappears into the bathroom.

You sit there, stunned, your legs still weak and trembling as you try to process the situation. He’s… he’s going to clean you up?

You don’t have time to overthink it before Matt is back, damp rag in hand, his expression calm and casual- like he hasn’t just spent the past however long wrecking you completely.

But then he kneels back onto the bed, his large hands gripping your thighs, and you suddenly feel very small, very exposed.

“Matt-” you start, but he just smirks, shaking his head as he spreads your legs apart again.

“Sweetheart,” he tuts, his voice low, teasing. “I just made you cum like six times. You can’t be all shy and shit now.”

Your entire face burns, your thighs instinctively trying to press back together, but Matt just grips them firmly, keeping you open for him.

“Matthew!” you squeak, but then you see it.

Your gaze drops, and your breath catches as you notice the mess between your legs- his cum, mixed with yours, spilling out of you, slick and warm against your thighs.

“Oh my God,” you gasp, absolutely mortified.

Matt chuckles, his eyes darkening as he watches your reaction. “It’s normal, angel,” he reassures you, his thumb stroking your inner thigh.

You look back up at him, eyes wide. “You’re not… grossed out?”

He huffs a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “No, sweetheart. If anything…” He leans in slightly, his gaze flickering downward, his jaw clenching. “I’m almost getting hard again just looking at it.”

Your face somehow turns even redder.

“Oh my gosh,” you whimper, covering your face with your hands as you flop back against the pillows, absolutely overwhelmed.

Matt just chuckles again, his smirk unmistakably smug as he brings the warm rag between your legs and starting to clean you up, his touch gentle, careful.

But even as he moves with patience, his eyes flicker up to meet yours, and the way he looks at you makes you wonder just how much rest you’re actually going to get tonight.

After he finishes cleaning you up, Matt tosses the rag aside and looks down at you, his blue eyes softer now, filled with something warm, something that makes your stomach flutter. He brushes a hand over your thigh, his fingers tracing gentle, soothing circles.

“You sore?” he asks, his voice low, genuinely concerned.

You shift slightly, feeling the lingering ache between your legs, and nod. “Yeah… it hurts down here.”

Matt exhales, running a hand through his hair before he moves, standing just long enough to walk around the bed before slipping under the covers on the other side. He pats the mattress beside him.

“Come here,” he murmurs, his voice quieter now, inviting.

You hesitate only for a second before scooting over, letting him pull you into his arms. His warmth surrounds you instantly, his body solid and comforting, his scent still intoxicating- like musk and something undeniably him.

His chin rests lightly atop your head, and he sighs, his hands lazily tracing up and down your back, grounding you both in the quiet afterglow.

“How was it?” he asks after a moment, his voice rumbling against your skin. “Your first time?”

You let out a soft giggle, nuzzling closer against his chest. “It was really good,” you admit, your voice muffled against his skin. “But… I don’t really know what it’s supposed to feel like.”

Matt chuckles, shaking his head. “Well, if you came six times, I’d say it was pretty damn good, sweetheart.”

“Is that normal?” Your cheeks flush, and you bite your lip, hiding your face against him.

He laughs again, clearly amused. “No. Not usually. But that’s a good thing,”

“Matt?” you ask, your voice quieter now.

“Mm?”

You shift, rolling over so you can face him. He tilts his head slightly, his brows raising at your expression.

“How many people have you done it with?” you ask, your gaze flickering downward, suddenly shy.

Matt blinks, visibly caught off guard. His mouth opens, then closes, and for the first time since the night started, he looks almost… awkward.

“Uh…” He clears his throat, rubbing the back of his neck. “Why?”

You shrug, still not looking at him, fidgeting with the edge of the blanket. “I don’t know,” you mumble, your voice suddenly small. “I was just… wondering.”

Matt watches you for a long moment, and then realization dawns. His lips twitch slightly, and he tilts his head, trying to catch your gaze.

“Are you jealous?” he asks, his voice laced with amusement.

You immediately look down, avoiding his eyes entirely, and he exhales sharply, his smirk growing.

“Oh, you are,” he murmurs, his fingers tilting your chin up so you have no choice but to meet his gaze. His eyes flicker with something playful, something teasing. “That’s adorable.”

You groan, covering your face with your hands, but Matt just chuckles, prying them away and pressing a slow, lingering kiss to your forehead.

“Sweetheart,” he murmurs against your skin, “I don’t care about anyone before you. The only person I’m thinking about right now- the only person I want- is you.”

Your stomach flips at his words, and you finally look up at him, your lips parting slightly. His expression softens, and his thumb strokes over your cheek, his gaze filled with something deeper, something more sincere.

“Okay?” he murmurs.

You nod, swallowing thickly. “Okay.”

Matt grins, clearly satisfied, and pulls you back against his chest, his arms tightening around you.

“Good,” he says, pressing another kiss to the top of your head. “Because I plan on keeping you all to myself.”

Matt tilts your chin up again, his blue eyes flickering between yours, his gaze deep, searching. His thumb brushes over your lower lip, his breath warm as he leans in.

And then he kisses you.

It’s not like before- not rushed or desperate. This kiss is slow, deep, intimate. His lips move against yours with a tenderness that makes your stomach flip, makes your body melt into his touch. His hands cradle your face like you’re something precious, his fingers tracing soft patterns along your jaw, down your neck.

You sigh into his mouth, your arms looping around his shoulders, pulling him closer. The heat between you starts to build again, your bodies pressing together under the covers, the slow drag of his lips against yours turning into something more heated, more urgent.

Matt groans softly, tilting your head back further as his tongue brushes against yours, deepening the kiss. His hands wander lower, slipping beneath the blanket, gripping your waist as he shifts, rolling you onto your back.

He hovers over you, his weight pressing you into the mattress, his lips trailing down your jaw, his breath warm against your skin.

“God,” he murmurs, his voice husky, wrecked, “I can’t get enough of you.”

He starts to crawl over you, his knee parting your thighs, his hands framing your face as his lips find yours again, this time more desperate, more claiming-

BANG.

The bedroom door swings open so suddenly it slams against the wall.

“Hey, Y/N, I was a fucking hour into the drive when I realized I forgot my wallet, do you know where I-”

Silence.

Absolute, deafening silence.

You freeze. Matt freezes.

Your brother stands in the doorway, eyes wide, mouth slightly open, taking in the scene in front of him:

Matt completely naked and hovering over you, your legs tangled together under the covers, both of you breathless, flushed, naked, and clearly caught in the middle of something.

Your brother’s face twists in absolute horror, his expression shifting from shock to pure rage in a matter of seconds. His jaw clenches, his fists tighten, and then-

“WHAT THE FUCK?!” he bellows, his voice shaking the walls.

The room goes still.

Your stomach drops.

Matt’s chest rises and falls slowly, his body tense, frozen, unreadable.

Your eyes snap to his, wide, panicked, pleading.

Matt just meets your gaze, steady and sure, his blue eyes flickering with something unreadable.

Neither of you move.

Neither of you speak.

There’s not much you could say anyways.

What is there to do when you’re caught with one man who was off limits?

MASTERLIST

a/n: and with that, the earned it series has come to an end 🫡 thank you for all the love on this series. YOU ARE ALL INCREDIBLE!! you literally give me motivation to write. so thank you. i know i left on another cliffhanger…. sorry not sorry. the original draft of this chapter was actually like 8k words and included what happened after the brother walked in but i decided that I kinda wanna leave it up to the readers mind. yall get to decide what happens after this! (maybe I’ll put out an epilogue or smth idk) BUT THANK YOU AGAIN SO MUCH!!! SO MUCH LOVE!!!

-c🧡

for @mattsobvimyfav as always, i love you. thank you for being you. you are my sunshine.

tags: @ilovejohnnieguilbertsblog @mattsturnii @starstrucktyrantinfluencer @watercolorskyy @strangecatpeach @katie1002 @1ovesiick @slut4christopherr @mattgirl4eva @mayalovesturn @chriss-slutt @sturniolohohoho @courta13 @izzylovesmatt @matthewsturnsgf @aaa-mi @bigbeefybitch @hopelesslydevotedsstuff @wastelandzella @yourmother29 @whore4-chrissturniolo @idefinitelyhateu @madisonnxtdoor22 @user1smvtysturniolo @briisturniolo @sturniololuvz @hesvoid34 @butterflytsblog @mommymomm @mattsbunnyxx @blushsturns @i8kth @annalisesturnioloxo @kenziesturniolo54 @ribread03 @sturnl0ve @grace-sturniolo12 @sophsturns @mattsturnfx @lilyloveschris @milo-the-dog @riggysworld @scrumptiouskoalabasement @tenaciousearthquakeperson @sturnlovematt22 @seros-girl @sofsturnz689 @sturniololuvz @eeyoresturnz

[soleilapproves]

Pro-Boxer!Sukuna could barely hear the crowd clamoring over his win. The blood rushing in his head muted everything because in a matter of moments, he was going to get what he was waiting for most—a kiss from you.

You, who was standing right outside the ring, next to his coach, were frozen in place. You weren’t even sure why you drove all the way to the opposite end of the city to see him. He was only just someone you’d randomly meet and coyly flirt with.

Your teeth ground as you saw him stalk to you, all bloody and bruised. He lifted the ropes and extended a hand. Everyone’s eyes were trained on him, confused. But that didn’t stop them from cheering when you meekly put your hand in his bandaged one before hoisting yourself up on the platform.

All devouring red eyes raking down your face to your lips. His pupils grew larger as he noticed they were all chewed up. Good; you were nervous. He had been staring at you all night like that—every time he’d take his mouth guard out to rinse his bloody mouth, whenever he’d sip water, or whenever he’d land a particularly robust punch; almost like he was showing off. The athlete equivalent of a mating ritual.

You felt small under his gaze. You knew you were the object of his affections, but to be treated like one in front of the world was… exhilarating. You wouldn’t call yourself a voyeur, but the pit of your stomach fluttered when he curled his sweaty, muscular arm around your waist as he threw away his mouth guard from his other one—something about a man showing the world that nobody other than the person he loved mattered to him.

“Still don’t wanna be mine?” His lips were mere inches from yours, metallic breath hitting your chin. The roaring cheers of the crowd only got more intense with every moment. A couple spectators began chanting “kiss, kiss!”

Your tongue was dry and your voice was stuck in your throat. Dumbfounded.

“You promised me that if I won this match then I’d get a kiss. Why’re you getting all shy with me now?”

He was right. It was only right to uphold your end of the deal. With trembling arms, your joined your hands around his thick neck and closed your eyes, bracing yourself for the inevitable.

The last thing you heard was a chuckle before tasting light traces of blood and Sukuna’s hot tongue. His teeth clashed against yours out of sheer eagerness and you gasped. His arms tightened around you even more before leaving one last peck on your lips.

“Better than any trophy,” he whispered in your ear.

———

in other words: your situationship with Sukuna finally turns into something serious.

yes, I have a masterlist.

[harmonysanreads]

Anatomy Of A Hug

ᯓᡣ𐭩 ft. Phainon, Mydei, Anaxa

Heads Up : Soft Yandere themes, Anaxa needs to see a therapist, Written before version 3.1, My Delusions I guess. I merely missed them a lot and decided to write something silly quickly orz.

-; ੈ♡˳ PHAINON

In the simplest terms, Phainon hugs with his everything. He's not shy to initiate skin-contact, will press himself to you accordingly — unless you voice out discomfort. He's diligent in wrapping his arms around your person securely, should you fancy melting in the bliss he offers. Though, his dexterity with hugs was honed through practice. In the beginning, the strength of a seasoned warrior had been more prevalent. A good amount of discussion (read: pleading to breathe) and experimentation snapped him out of the rush of pleasantries and reminded him of how precious a person he was dealing with.

Front hugs, back hugs, side hugs, bear hugs — he's okay with whatever you're comfortable with. His personal preference is going through all kinds of hugs he knows of manually ; first to shield you from all the evil that preys on your vulnerability, then scooping you up from the pull of gravity, a hearty squeeze to assure you of his protection, followed by a thrilling spin that will repel all bad thoughts out of your orbit. Until all the vestiges of weariness and stress have been replaced clean with the smiles he so adores.

Phainon is not one to be satisfied with short exchanges of warmth, the duration of these hugs tend to be quite long — or, as long as he can get away with before he has to commit to a Hero's responsibilities. Just as he initiates hugs with all of his soul, he expects the same when it comes to receiving them. Phainon prefers to be coddled, held with a promise of protection, ironically. Allow him to kneel and bring him close to your heart, weave your fingers through his hair, soothe the tension in his shoulders and he'll abandon the Flame-Chase altogether.

It's impossible to stir him in those moments, unless your safety happened to be at stake. As such, it's best for you to bid farewell to any other plans. Once he has memorized the nature of this exchange well, he goes beyond and utilizes it to deal with other nuisances. You cannot blame him, not when it has been proven that distracting you with a hug deters both the interference and yourself from paying heed to a mere passer-by. Sometimes his hug offers a bit less comfort and appears more as a shackle. Should you think to point this out, bear this in mind — your embrace is the last thread keeping his sanity intact.

-; ੈ♡˳ MYDEI

You must not care for your life at all, or at least, that's the thought Mydei found himself having when he was faced with the gesture. While the Crown Prince was not ignorant of the existence of a hug, he merely never had the opportunity to be properly acquainted with it. Not that it was necessary to know of it either, he can't win battles by hugging his opponents now, can he? As such, his reaction had been quite the spectacle when you initiated it. Begin by asking if he'd like a hug (throw in a ‘my prince’ at the end, sweetly), if his expression doesn't change then that means a ‘yes’, approach him calmly and wrap your arms around him next — be patient, he'll eventually reciprocate, given that you read the cues right.

If Mydei has to express affection, he'll do so in his own ways. It's already enough of an inconvenience that whenever he thinks of you, his head becomes blurred with clouds of emotions he's unable to decipher. That mushy sensation he feels inside whenever you have the audacity to hug him is just unfiltered agony to his mind. The journey to getting him less repulsed to the gesture has to be fueled by patience and understanding. Only when it clicks in his head that the feelings your hugs incite are not so dissimilar from the ones he gets by indulging in a plate of golden honeycakes does he warm up to the gesture.

Even then, Mydei is very particular about his preferences. Wave goodbye to the dream of spooning the prince any time soon, he's made it clear that that privilege is reserved for him alone. He'll always pull your head towards his chest and headlock you in place. If it's not possible to do so while standing, he'll sit down and gather you on his lap even — but he'll never allow his field of vision to be obstructed. Allowing this already renders you both vulnerable to attacks, he'll reason. He needs to remain vigilant, for the sake of your safety ; not that he'll translate the intention word by word.

Despite your efforts, you've discovered that ridding the prince of his stiffness is near-impossible, even if it's in private. His is not a life that's seen much comfort. Pay attention to the minute shifts in his eyes and you'll realize that the actual reason for his stilted posture, is because of the restraint he's exercising in unleashing his strength. It is a valid concern, he won't even need both of his hands to kill you. Death has rejected him countless times but awaits your departure in anticipation, he's merely mindful of its preying gaze.

-; ੈ♡˳ ANAXA

You are one fearless fellow if you initiated a hug with Anaxa, or you simply don't care about the fact that he's renowned as the scholar who most people are happy to avoid. The scholar in question would most likely call you an idiot though, you really need a thorough lesson in deciphering which men you must never approach. Not that he will be giving it, his time and energy are not to be wasted on such trivial concerns. Although he won't deny, with this brazen act, you've proven yourself to be a bit above the notion of ‘trivial’.

You think approaching the scholar is not so different from trying to befriend a cat, failure in the beginning is inevitable — only through persistence can you triumph. It's a task alone to try to acquaint yourself with him, getting him accustomed to physical affection might just be an acid test. The scholar has had no need for a rudimentary touch of another's skin, he'll say with a dignified hiss. But if you're observant, you'd know it's just a ruse to hide the depth of the depravation he's not allowing himself to acknowledge.

After much trial and error, when he finally bends to your efforts and accepts a hug, he's stiff and awkward, unsurprisingly. His hands wander as if settling on one place would burn his skin, face firmly hidden in the crook of your neck in what you can only assume is embarrassment. You would've teased him about the fierce flush on his ears and nape, if he hadn't ended the contact upon realizing his behavior. The scholar didn't dare face you for the next week, reflecting upon the incident vigorously.

Initially, his hugs were short, filled with muttered complaints to distract you from the firmness of his grip. The increasing average duration and his waning unwillingness towards the gesture did not go unnoticed by him at all. He knows the basic biological cause and it served as his rationale for quite a while. Yes, the reward system's activities are all there is to it, surely he possesses enough willpower to end this indulgence any time he wishes.

What he didn't anticipate though was you beating him to it, baffling him with your sudden consideration for his personal space. You are cruelty incarnate, conditioning him to this banal addiction and leaving him to deal with the consequences by himself? Now that is one preposterous claim to marvel at. It's wise if you cease pushing the man and retract your words. And if you don't? You're more than welcomed to repeat your jest at the firing point of his gun.

[immortalmolloy]

Louis smirked when Mina said Daniel wasn’t a boy. “Go ahead, Daniel,” he encouraged. “Speak from your heart.”

Daniel sighed. “Mina… I wasn’t too excited for the cruise but I didn’t know it would go badly,” he began. “I thought it would be okay. I wanted to be there for you and give you everything you needed. I was trying my best. I’m really sorry and I hate that I failed you.”

This was all so difficult. Talking about feelings was never easy. This was all so painful and it made Daniel feel like he was a piece of garbage.

“I know I fucked up,” he admitted. “I know I’m fucked up. I try my best and I’ve come a long way. I’m always trying to be who you need. I’m always trying to improve and heal. I plan to continue to work on myself. But I don’t want to make promises that I don’t know I can keep.”

Maybe they shouldn’t have even gotten fake married or whatever it was that they were doing. He had always been afraid that could ruin things between them. Yet she had sworn she knew what she was dealing with when it came to him and his flaws and him not being a great husband and that she accepted it and wanted him the way he was.

“I never said I’d be a good ‘husband’,” Daniel told her. “I know I’m fucked up. If you can’t handle me the way I am…”

He didn’t want to think about what would happen if she couldn’t accept him and decided she was tired of his bullshit. He loved her and he needed her.

“I love you more than anything,” he said. “I may not be perfect but I truly love you. I will always love you and protect you and try to be a good man for you.”

He was starting to get emotional again and he really didn’t want to cry again.

“I think you should keep your heart open to others, though. We will always have each other but maybe you should have someone else too?” Daniel hoped this didn’t offend her. “There are things I can’t get from you that I get from my other lovers. It could be the same for you. You should have someone you can talk to about traumatic things and they can be there for you without getting triggered and running off. I want that for you. You deserve the world and I wish I could give it to you. I know I was jealous in the past but I won’t get jealous anymore. You should have a friend or a lover who can give you what I can’t. You should have someone to keep you company when I’m away working.”

Working was definitely code for being away with Lestat but he didn’t want to mention Lestat’s name at the moment. Besides, he did work for Lestat so it wasn’t completely untrue.

“So, you want to interview vampires, so you?”

[zzbubblegumbitchzz]

just some good ole fashioned friends to lovers smut.

wc: 1.3k

cw: unprotected p in v, one mention of daddy, use of pet names, Quinn’s a yap, use of y/n like once, oral (f receiving), belly bulge, big dick quinn.

Everything was going wrong. Work cut my hours, my car needs work, Quinn’s looking more and more appetizing and he shouldn't be. I shouldn't be looking at him like he's a snack that I so desperately want to taste. He was such a fucking distraction, so much so.

Each night dragged on. My body begging for its release, brain panicking over the fact it's Quinn’s face I'm seeing as my fingers work small circles. It's always so fucking close before im betrayed by my brain and I just cant find the end.

Quinn was meant to be gone all day tomorrow, that had to be the timing I could finally do it. No Q, no thoughts, no guilt over craving the man’s mouth on mine. Just some music and myself. I can do this.

The room felt hot, my body was beginning to cave in. Everything was so close, it was sitting in the palm of my hand when everything was ripped away.

"Fuck!" I yelled. Disappointment, anger and the tears building up. Threatening to fall at any moment now. "I just wanna cum. That's all."

The door ripped open before I had any time to process the man in front of me.

"Y/n, what's wrong? Why'd you-" his voice cut off as his eyes wandered down my body, stopping right where my hand met my cunt.

"Oh my god, get out!" the panic was all my body needed as the green light for my tears to fall.

He was standing at the foot of my bed before I knew it, big hands gripped onto my calves. "I can help, sweets. Just gotta ask. Can't stand to see such a pretty baby cry."

My chest felt tighter than usual, my body surely hot to touch at this point. "Quinn, what are you- fuck." His fingers rubbing soft circles on my inner thigh.

"Wanna help, that's all. I've heard you so close the last couple of nights. Thought at first you were just edging yourself, ya know? Bein a little mean. But sweetheart, it's okay to ask for help. Let me help, promise you'll feel so good. She's crying out for me, think she knows i'm so close and i'm just leaving her hangin. That's not very nice of me huh?"

Nodding down at the man settled between your thighs, "cmon pretty baby, ask me. I know you want to, too."

I could feel his breath so close to my core, god and I wanted him so bad, wanted his help more than anything. "Uh huh, please? Can you help me?"

His tongue licked a stripe all the way up and pressed a kiss against my clit. "Sweetest cunt i've tasted, jesus." His nose settled against your clit, he inhales a little bit before in and up my folds.

"Oh," you gasp, hands falling to his hair. Legs already threatening to close, but you know you can't. His tongue fucking the tight hole, his nose rubbing gently against your clit. "Mmm, Q."

His kisses, open mouthed, and so wet. He wraps his lips around your clit. His fingers digging into your thighs, forcing your legs up. He sucks, unrelenting, until you whine. And then his tongue flicks at your clit for a few moments before it goes back to fucking you. "Fuck. Feels so good," hands gripping his hair, he groans against your cunt. "Oh my god!"

He's moving slow with it, savoring every piece of you. Remembering the pattern of your body, memorizing the taste against his tongue. His cheeks pink, eyes closed. And you can't help but wonder of all the opportunities you missed out on him doing this. You're pulled out of the thoughts when you feel his finger against your hole.

His thick, long finger slides in with no resistance. His finger curling up, while his tongue flicks at your clit at a relentless pace.

Grinding against his hand, a yelp leaves your throat. Head thrown back. "Fuck, yeah? That the spot, baby?" You rock against his hand, unable to speak. Chasing the high you feel building up in your stomach. "More, please."

He chuckles at you, "you're a greedy thing." His middle finger slides in, it's a squeeze. Slowing his movements and giving you time to adjust to the stretch. Watching your face turn to comfort, he curls his fingers back up and mumbles against your bud.

"You gonn cum? Feel you squeezin' me. You're so fucking tight. Gonna need to go slow with you, it's gonna feel so good huh? Cmon, give it to me. There she is."

"Fuck, fuck, fuck-"

He stays steady, pace unwavering. Hitting that spongey spot, he brings his mouth back to your clit. Tongue rapidly flicking against it, he reaches his arm around your waist holding you against the bed. Nothing but his name falling from your mouth, like he was your god and you were praying to him and him alone.

He's pulling away, letting you catch your breath. "Fuck, can I feel you? Need to feel you."

"Yeah, yeah. Please Quinny," he's shimming his pants off before you finish your sentence. He sees your eyes widen, "know it's big, i'll be slow okay? Your pace, I promise."

Not willing to waste a moment longer, Quinn finds his way back on top of you again, sliding himself in between your folds. His thumb's at your clit again and you shiver, mouth falling open.

"You ready?" he asked softly, dragging his cock against your entrance.

"Uh huh, just, slow."

Your eyes widen as he presses into you. You exhale shakily. "I know," He coos, "you're doing so good. Just relax for me."

"Kiss me."

His forehead presses against yours, his lips hovering over yours. "Here?" He's teasing you, he thrusts forward a little more. Presses his lips onto yours before you have time to speak. Moving his mouth so perfectly. He tastes like a hint of mint and you, and you could get lost in it if he'd let you.

He pulls his hips back, then slides in. Another inch.. You gasp against him and his tongue slips into your mouth. He moans feeling you clench down.

"Let me in, baby. Please. Wanna feel you cum so bad."

You nod at the man, a little lost in your mind. Fuzzy, and hot. Rocking your hips against his, "more, please please. Need to feel more."

He kisses up your neck, "you sure?" he mumbles against your skin.

"Uh huh," your brain is so fuzzy you don't even realize it coming out. "please, daddy."

"Oh fuck," he pulls out and thrusts back in to the hilt. "can't just say shit like that."

His hips find a pace, in and out. Punching the air out of you with each thrust.

The tears start to swell again, you're so close. So fucking close.

"Hang on," he's pulling out of you and grabbing your calves and folds them as close to your chest as he can before pushing back inside you, setting his pace quickly.

Your cunt squelches around him, his hand going to set on your stomach. "Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god-"

"Shit." He groans, "Fuck, feel me?" he's pushing down on your stomach, "I'm right there baby. Fuck,"

"I'm gonna cum," you're rambling now.

"Cmon let me feel it, shit. You're squeezin my cock so good. doing so good."

He pulls out of you quick, he cums against your pussy.

His breath was unevening, eyes staring at his load dripping down to my bed. "Fuck, i'm sorry. I know I need to help clean you up, I just can't look away yet." He reached over to his pile of clothes on the floor, fishing out his phone, "can I take a picture, sweetheart? I can't ever forget this. Gonna think about it until I die, swear."

Fuck. Brain still hazy, "uh huh."

"Gonna take you out, can't ignore it anymore. Don’t care if Jack gets mad. Stuck with me now. Hope you're okay with that."

[treatbuckywkisses]

OKKAAYYY SO BUCKYS POV SAVED ME IDC WHAT HAPPENS I WILL REMEMBER THIS MOMENT AND I WILL NOT BE SAD. so convinced this chapter was written with me in mind front and center. I just saw Bucky's pov and my brain got excited and skimmed everything so brb I'm about to ACTUALLY read it😅

There’s never been anyone whom he’s connected with enough to warrant a second date, let alone have him promising to call. He’s completely out of his depth, drowning in a sea of anxiety and no one has taught him how to swim.  - ok are you joking. this is my favorite line I found it don't worry. man's is PUSSY WHIPPED HAHA DAMN STRAIGHT PINKY PROMISE DATE 1 AND NOW HES LOCKED IN 

Perhaps he’ll find the courage to call tomorrow. oh he's in love:( he's a BABY:( GIVE HIM TO ME NOW WE

“I’m gonna need a little more information than that Buck, there’s been quite a few girls of yours, especially from the hospital.” Steve laughs, but Bucky’s chest tightens at the insinuation that you’re just another fling, even though Steve doesn’t know any better. the scream I Scrumpt :((((( he's so in it 

Though his experience screams at him to run in the opposite direction, that this would be a horrible decision leading to further pain, Bucky finds it hard to believe someone as sweet and good-natured as yourself would ever hurt him intentionally. Even if there is only a slim chance that he doesn’t completely fuck this up, given Bucky cannot stop thinking about you, he supposes it’s worth a shot calling you. -YESSSSSSSSSS Stevie is the bestest ❣️ 

You wonder if the notion of actually calling you, or simply messaging, has even crossed Bucky’s mind once since he left your place about 36 hours ago, or if he already knew it was an empty promise at the time he made it. NOOOOOOO this is soul crushing 😭 he's just anxious give him a xanax stat!

You hate how good he looks, long chestnut hair framing his face and those dazzling blue eyes you’ve dreamed about shine from all the way across the room. He’s unfairly attractive, and he walks into a room like he knows it too. -ooohhhh:( the show of confidence he has on the outside when he's having the same inside thoughts as me over a phone call is !!!!!!!!!! you are a genius I'm kissing you kissing you kissing you 

“Yep, that’s her.” Bucky says with a pride that if Steve didn’t know any better, would suggest that her meant his girl. Bucky answers without taking his eyes off you, the corners of mouth tugging into a smile. His best friend has it bad, and he doesn’t even realise.  - I'm sick YOU are sick this is SICKENING in the absolute best possible way:( 

The combination of your words and the fact that you punctuated the sentence with his true first name sends Bucky straight to heaven. Everything about you makes him completely weak in a way he has never experienced before. All of those walls Steve seems to think Bucky has built around himself don’t appear to exist with you, instead, you’ve come into his life as easily as walking through a front door with a welcome mat out front. - the use of his first name will never not be a personal attack against me, that makes me so eye twitchingly feral. Him sensing the surprise is CRIMINAL you have made a story in which people are literally made for each other how does that make you feel 🤬🤬🤬 

Withdrawal

[He’s Hazardous To My Health Series]

Paramedic!Bucky Barnes x Resident!Fem!Reader

< < PART 2 | Series Masterlist | PART 4 > >

Summary: You wait for Bucky to call.

Warnings: strictly 18+ due to the AU, some angst and self doubt, references to sex, references to Bucky having a traumatic past

Word count: 2.8k

A/N: Will he call? Won’t he call? Let’s find out! Banners by @vase-of-lilies

Main Masterlist | Ask me anything! | Taglist | Library

Bucky stares down at his phone and sighs.

He wants to call you, genuinely, so why is dialling your number so difficult?

Perhaps it’s too soon, is what he tells himself. It hasn’t even been a full day since the end of your date, calling now probably makes him look desperate.

Should he message you? Tell you that he hasn’t been able to stop thinking about you all day? Ugh, no… that seems extremely forward for someone he’s only been on a single date with, regardless of if it’s the truth.

There’s never been anyone whom he’s connected with enough to warrant a second date, let alone have him promising to call. He’s completely out of his depth, drowning in a sea of anxiety and no one has taught him how to swim.

Bucky knows he’s overthinking, but you make it hard to think clearly. You have his brain short circuiting, reforming synapses so that all his thoughts are rerouted to the same thing: you.

Turning his phone off, he sets it down beside him. Just because he isn’t calling straight away, doesn’t mean he won’t at all. It’s probably better to wait and not seem super eager.

Or is that counterintuitive? If you enjoy someone’s company, should you let them know so you can see them again as soon as possible?

Fuck, why is this such a daunting task? He’s never had an issue with talking or flirting with anyone before, it seems to come naturally to him. And yet the thought that he’ll say the wrong thing, and fuck up whatever it is between the two of you is making his stomach churn with prickling nerves he’s never experienced before.

Perhaps he’ll find the courage to call tomorrow.

* * *

“You seem distracted, what’s on your mind?” The familiar voice from the driver's seat of the ambulance pulls Bucky from his daydream.

You, is what Bucky thinks. You are constantly on his mind. Him and his best friend Steve are half an hour into their shift and you have not left the forefront of his mind in that entire time.

It’s like he’s in a trance.

“There’s this girl from the hospital…” Bucky trails off, unsure how to articulate exactly how you’ve bewitched him since meeting not even a week ago.

The night before last wasn’t just another hookup. At least, not to him.

“I’m gonna need a little more information than that Buck, there’s been quite a few girls of yours, especially from the hospital.” Steve laughs, but Bucky’s chest tightens at the insinuation that you’re just another fling, even though Steve doesn’t know any better.

“Two nights ago we went on a date, it ended up back at her place.” This is probably not news to Steve - he’s heard many stories about Bucky’s one night stands which would have started exactly like this. But there is one huge difference this time around. “And then I told her I’d call.”

“You’re thinking about a second date with her? She must be something special.” Bucky chuckles under his breath. Yeah, you really are something special. So fucking special.

“She’s beautiful, intelligent, funny, witty. When she was treating that little girl from the train derailment she was so good with her, kind and patient. I don’t know how to describe it, we just click. I don’t think I’ve ever allowed myself to feel more than physical attraction for someone but with her it just happens, I can’t stop myself.”

He doesn’t want to admit it to himself, but Bucky’s already addicted to you. He’s only had one fix, but he’s already showing symptoms of withdrawal. Every second apart feels like an hour, craving your company and the rapture firing in every neuron of his body when you’re in his presence.

“Look at you actually falling for someone.” Steve teases, without even knowing the full extent of how enthralled Bucky is with you. “So when are you seeing her again?”

Silence fills the front seat of the ambulance when Bucky can’t answer the question.

“Bucky, you have to see her again! Listen to how you’re talking about her, I don’t think I’ve ever heard you actually speak about wanting to see someone again. You need to call her.” Steve stops at a red light and looks over to Bucky in the passenger seat. His best friend knows him better than perhaps he knows himself but doesn’t have the same obstacle with letting people in as Bucky does.

“That’s easier said than done.” Bucky can’t mask the dejected tone in his voice, and Steve recognises the crestfallen hang of his head, knowing exactly what he means without voicing it aloud.

“I know you've been through a lot in your life Buck, you’ve built walls up to prevent any more heartbreak…” Steve starts, but Bucky doesn’t need yet another reminder of his tragic backstory.

“Alright Mr I minored in psychology, I get your point. I’m damaged goods and don’t let people get close to me.”

“It’s just a second date, Buck, you aren’t asking for her hand in marriage. Just see where it goes.” Steve makes it sound so easy. Most people wouldn’t get so stressed about something they would consider as minor as a second date, yet Bucky feels like he’s about to expose the most intimate parts of his soul to someone for the first time.

“But I don’t want to hurt her. I know nothing about dating or being in a relationship.” Bucky pauses - the fact that he’s even considering something as substantial as a relationship with you punches him in the gut. He’s never wanted that with someone before. “And I don’t want to get hurt myself.” Because all Bucky has known is relationships breaking down. To him romantic relationships are synonymous with pain and he’s had enough of that for a lifetime.

“You’ll never know if you never try. I know you think letting someone in will lead to heartbreak, but what if it’s the opposite? What if by letting this person into your heart you finally find love and contentment?” Bucky has never allowed himself to imagine a life where that is a possibility - opening himself up to that prospect sounds like a recipe for more suffering. Besides, he’s been damaged goods for a long time, he’s sure there’s no one who would want to put up with him anyway.

“You really are a hopeless romantic.” Bucky comments, trying to avoid the questions Steve is raising, and divert the topic of their conversation.

“I want you to be happy, Buck. You’ve never afforded yourself that courtesy.”

Though his experience screams at him to run in the opposite direction, that this would be a horrible decision leading to further pain, Bucky finds it hard to believe someone as sweet and good-natured as yourself would ever hurt him intentionally. Even if there is only a slim chance that he doesn’t completely fuck this up, given Bucky cannot stop thinking about you, he supposes it’s worth a shot calling you.

“Well, maybe it’s finally time I do.” Bucky mutters under his breath.

* * *

You’ve been checking your phone periodically throughout the day to se if you have any new notifications from Bucky, but each time your phone lights up, a new wave of disappointment floods your chest.

You wonder if the notion of actually calling you, or simply messaging, has even crossed Bucky’s mind once since he left your place about 36 hours ago, or if he already knew it was an empty promise at the time he made it.

“Heard anything yet?” Wanda asks hopefully, but you shake your head in response. The first thing Wanda asked during your next shift together was how your date went with Bucky - between treating patients you described the picnic Bucky set up on the riverbank and (in slightly less detail) the euphoric night you shared when you made it back to your place.

“I’m stupid for actually believing he’s going to call, aren’t I?”

“…No.” Wanda offers after a brief hesitation which tells you more than the single word does. Sensing your regret in asking, she continues on. “Sweetie, only you know the connection you share, I can’t speak to that. If you feel like there’s something special there and he promised to call, then you have every right to believe him.”

Perhaps you’re being foolish, you should know better than to hang your hopes on a man who is notorious for being a fuckboy, but you really thought Bucky was being genuine when he promised to contact you. That the blissful night you shared, and the waves of ecstasy which melded into a flood of pure pleasure, meant more than just a one night stand.

Or at least it did to you.

“Just because he’s never pursued more than a first date with other people in this hospital doesn’t mean he isn’t now, or isn’t with you. Sometimes it just takes the right person, that could be you.” You take some comfort in the sincerity of her tone, but the voice in the back of your mind reminds you of what Wanda alerted you to prior to your date: no one gets a second date with Bucky Barnes.

“You’ve changed from giving me no hope to giving me false hope, Wan.” You joke, trying to brush off the conversation and not reveal just how heartbroken you’ll be if Bucky ghosts you, even with Wanda warning about his ways.

Internally you remind yourself that it’s only been a day and a half and to not be too mad at him, yet. Perhaps he intends to call, but hasn’t gotten around to it, though you’re pretty sure you’re only telling yourself that to stop the perpetual ache in your chest rather than truly believing it.

“He promised he would call, that’s not false hope.” Wanda advises, shooting you a look of encouragement as you both complete paperwork for your respective patients.

At that moment, the doors to the ER swing open and none other than the paramedic you were just speaking about walks in wheeling a patient.

You hate how good he looks, long chestnut hair framing his face and those dazzling blue eyes you’ve dreamed about shine from all the way across the room. He’s unfairly attractive, and he walks into a room like he knows it too.

Him and his partner consult the head nurse of the ER, who, after examining her clipboard for a moment, points towards your direction, making your stomach flip.

Steel blue eyes meet yours and for a moment your entire world stands still. The sounds of the busy ER fade away and even the presence of Wanda beside you dissolves into non-existence when his eyes find you and a smile overtakes his features. That damn cheeky smile which makes your knees weak.

He truly is infuriatingly beautiful.

“Hey.” Is all you can think to say as they approach, a lump in your throat forming which would prevent you from voicing any more words if your brain could think of any other than how strapping and handsome he looks in his uniform.

“Hi.” Bucky responds softly with a dreamy smile, eyes lingering on yours for a long beat before turning away. How could someone who looks at you with such warmth not want to see you again?

You shake the thought from your mind as your focus on the patient, a young man with scared brown eyes. You can’t afford to be distracted right now, even if you desperately want to look back at him and revel in the fondness brimming in his eyes which was so apparent during your date.

After Bucky’s equally tall, broad and handsome paramedic partner gets you up to speed on the patient's history, you get to work on taking his vitals.

“Rogers, Barnes, give us some space to work, please.” Dr Strange requests and without the chance to say another word to each other, both paramedics disappear out the corner of your periphery.

What you don’t notice is Bucky’s soft gaze on you through the glass walls of the patient room as you start your work up, believing that he had simply got back in his ambulance and out into the field.

“That’s her?” Steve asks from beside Bucky. He knows full well it must be you, he’s never seen his best friend look so enamoured with a girl, nor lost for words as when he set eyes on you, but he wants Bucky to admit it aloud.

“Yep, that’s her.” Bucky says with a pride that if Steve didn’t know any better, would suggest that her meant his girl. Bucky answers without taking his eyes off you, the corners of mouth tugging into a smile. His best friend has it bad, and he doesn’t even realise.

Steve suspects if he doesn’t remind Bucky they have a shift to get back to, he’d happily watch you work for the rest of the day.

He allows Bucky a couple more minutes of that luxury before heading back to the ambulance, knowing his best friend well enough to realise before either Bucky or yourself do, just how significant Bucky’s feelings for you are.

* * *

Bucky steps out of the shower, the warm water having rinsed the hard days work off himself.

He knows he needs to call you. Waiting any longer, especially after seeing you today, even if it were only for a brief moment, would surely only indicate disinterest. That’s so far from how he feels about you, so he decides needs to take matters into his own hands and fulfil the promise he made two nights ago.

A fresh swarm of butterflies fills his stomach. He’s actually going to do this.

He just hopes you’re after more than just another hookup. Bucky’s used to being the one only interested in sex, but if the roles are reversed this time, it’ll be his exposed heart being ripped from his chest.

No, he can’t think like that. He’s finally giving himself a chance at happiness.

Bucky reminds himself that you asked him to promise to call after your date. It’s not just him that wants this, you want him to call.

With that thought, he pulls out his phone and quickly presses on your contact, so he doesn’t chicken out, and with a shaky hand holds his phone to his ear. Bucky’s heart beats in his throat as the first ring sounds, and then skips a beat altogether when the click of you answering fills his ears.

“Bucky, you called.” He can hear the smile in your voice through the line, but what makes his heart clench is the trace of surprise he can perceive, as if you truly hadn’t expected him to call.

“I did promise to.” He reminds you, but it doesn’t entirely eliminate the bitter shame bubbling in the pit of his stomach that even though he did in fact promise, you didn’t fully believe him.

“I’m happy you did. I had a really great time the other night.”

“So did I.” Those three simple words don’t sum up just how much Bucky wholeheartedly enjoyed every second he spent with you, regardless of if that were naked in your bed or getting to know you on a picnic blanket as the sun set across the horizon, but in his anxious state he can’t find words more poetic to express it. “And I’d love to do it again if you’re up for it.”

“Hmm, I’m gonna have to think about it.” He can tell by the light tone of your voice you’re joking, but he supposes he deserves waiting for an answer considering he made you wait for his call. “Of course I’d love to go on a second date with you James.”

The combination of your words and the fact that you punctuated the sentence with his true first name sends Bucky straight to heaven. Everything about you makes him completely weak in a way he has never experienced before. All of those walls Steve seems to think Bucky has built around himself don’t appear to exist with you, instead, you’ve come into his life as easily as walking through a front door with a welcome mat out front.

“I guess I’m going to have to outdo a picnic at sunset then.” He chuckles to himself, knowing that he’s never had this problem before, but realising it’s a good problem to have.

You continue to talk well into the night, forgetting what time it is, and that you both have early shifts in the morning. None of that matters when you’re so caught up in each other.

Bucky simply enjoys the sound of your voice, and how it soothes the remaining anxiety which was swirling in his chest before calling you. He certainly isn’t hanging up first, not when talking with you has been the best part of his day.

He’s chasing happiness. And he might just find it with you.

Part 4 > >

Be added to the series taglist here

He’s Hazardous To My Health [Paramedic!Bucky Barnes] Taglist: @lavenderpenumbra @crazyunsexycool @eralen @buckbuckyoongs @blackwidownat2814 @roschele @crayongirl-linz @ozwriterchick @desert-fern @misshale21 @chalesleclerc164 @rookthorne @janineb86 @emmabarnes @scarletbich @fallenlilangel99 @princezzjasmine @mdrovert @thebuckybarnesvault @doasyoudesireandlive @solitarioslilium @iamfandomwasted @tanyaspartak @netflixxgoddess @pop-rocks-818 @dumdidditydumdoo @missvelvetsstuff @marvelhoeland @thesadcatto-queen @kayden666 @amiimar @razor-blayde @katheryn1 @safew0rd @kentokaze @thewackywriter @lady-loki-barnes-djarin @badasswlthafatass @Vickie5446 @loveoldmenlikelana @00cmh @pointless-girl @honeyglee @nerdxacid @moonymagician @ashhsage @prettylittlepluviophile @otomefromtheheart @sjsmith56 @mandijo17 @lokidokieokie @oceansandblackhearts @rebeccapineapple @soorwellystan @excusememrbarnes @lofaewrites @snapcapquartet @wishingwell-2 @unaxv @aya-fay

[christopher-bangnaldoskzz]

MIRROR

Pairing: Changbin x female reader

Word count: 1k

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, over stimulation, sexual intercourse, body dysmorphia, low self esteem Swearing there is a tone of adult content in this fic please be cautious.

Summary:Struggling with self-hatred was something you had mastered over the years, but everything changed when you met Changbin. His presence sparked a flicker of hope that someone might actually love you. One day, as you stood in front of the mirror, lost in an all-too-familiar spiral of self-doubt, Changbin walked in on you as you criticized your body.

"Look at you", he says, sliding his hand along your side, brushing so lightly along your hip, stopping right as his fingertips touch the side of your breasts. 

Your gaze is fixed ahead, reflecting at you in the expansive surface of a full-length mirror. You study your reflection intently, the question lingering in the air, “How could you ever believe I am ashamed of you?” He tilts his head slightly, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine as he tenderly places soft kisses along the delicate curve behind your ears, each touch filled with affection and reassurance.

He hesitates, allowing a moment of silence to hang between them, his curiosity piqued by the unspoken question in his mind. "My wife," he murmurs, pressing gentle kisses along the delicate curve of your shoulder blades, his lips warm against your skin. "My beautiful... intelligent... wife," he continues, his fingers gliding down the smooth surface of your stomach, pausing just above the gentle rise of your pelvic bone. "I want you to see yourself the way I see you," he whispers, his voice low and tender as he places another kiss on your shoulder, a promise woven into each touch.

It has always perplexed you how someone like you could end up with a man as soft and undeniably attractive as Changbin. From the first moment you looked at him, his warm smile and twinkling eyes drew you in like a moth to a flame. When you finally mustered the courage to bring him home to meet your mother, the look on her face was priceless—her eyes widened in disbelief. For a moment, you feared she might faint out of shock at the delightful presence standing before her.

The day he proposed was another whirlwind of emotions. You were convinced he had utterly lost his mind as he knelt, ring in hand. The words slipped from his lips, and you spent a good moment in stunned silence, trying to wrap your head around the reality of what was happening. And now, here you are, standing in the middle of your bedroom, utterly exposed and vulnerable—physically naked before him, but even more so before your insecurities.

As you gaze at your reflection in the mirror, the person looking back is both familiar and foreign, abstract and concrete. The room is tinged with a sense of longing and desire, and yet, there is an unsettling tension as you confront your worst enemy: your self-doubt. His fingertips graze your skin with such gentle grace, igniting a thrilling spark that sends shivers racing down your spine. How he brushes against you feels electric, an irresistible dance of sensation that enhances every nerve ending. The air is thick with an intoxicating blend of passion and vulnerability, and you can't help but feel alive, your skin sizzling under his delicate yet fervent touch.

"Come on, just tell me, y/n... what was it you were saying before I cut you off?" Changbin's fingers gently trace circles on your stomach, his gaze locked onto yours, filled with a teasing intensity.

You feel a flutter of nerves at his touch, stuttering out a response, "I-I wasn't saying anything." But the shiver that runs through you betrays your words, hinting at the tension hanging in the air between you two.

"It didn't sound like nothing", Bringing his hand back up to just under your breast. "I hate that you think I'm ashamed of you…of this beautiful body." Cupping your breast in his hand, he begins to tease your nipple. 

"I'm S-sorry", you breathe. "I didn't mean for you to overhear that", you continue as you bite your bottom lip. 

"I'm going to show you…..what exactly about you I am absolutely crazy for?" Bringing his fingers to your mouth. "I want you to watch as I fuck you….can you do that?" His fingers now circled your throbbing clit. Changbin had this way of making you completely forget about the world. Nodding your head, you begin to relax against his chest. 

"Look at the way your body fits me so perfectly" his lips are pressed against your ear. "Spread your legs a little more for me" he kisses your ear, rowing as he says it, allowing his fingers access to enter you. "Look how wet you get for me….I fucking love it", pumping two fingers inside you as his other hand massages your breast. Your hips not being able to help but grind against his clothes crotch.

Your mouth parts slightly as you let out a small moan "The sounds you make are like music to my ears", he begins to kiss down your neck. 

"Bin….please", you moan as he pinches your nipple. Bending your body down just enough for Changbin to palm your clit “shit", you grunt as you can feel yourself tipping over the edge. 

"Y/n", he growled, your head flicking up to see your reflection in the mirror. "I want you to see how beautiful you look coming undone around my fingers", rolling your eyes to the back of your head as he hits the perfect spot with his fingers. The edge of bliss reaches closer as his other hand traces along your lower stomach, and his fingers continue to dip inside you. 

Watching Changbin finger fuck you in the full-length mirror is one of the hottest things to happen to you. A shiver washes over your body as you get ready to release all over his fingers. 

Just as you are about to reach your climax, his fingers slide out of your clenching pussy. "Spread your legs wider and lean forward", the tone in his voice flipping into seriousness; you spread your legs wider, arching your body forward as you hear his pants unzipping. Licking your lips with anticipation, he glances up to look at you in the mirror, "I can't believe your mine", he says, slapping his dick on each thigh. 

You feel his tip brush against your entrance, moving slowly at first before pushing in. His grip on your hips tightens as he thrusts harder and faster, his moans becoming louder with each thrust. You feel your body shake in pleasure as you reach an intense orgasm. He follows soon after, his body trembling as he releases his load inside of you. 

“Listen to me,” he says, wrapping his hands around your throat and pulling your body up against his “The next time you feel ashamed”, his lips pressed to your ear “, I want you to think about my come, dripping out of your freshly fucked cunt….do I make myself clear.” 

Taglist: @daceydeath @krishastumblernow @bakedlilgoonie @armystay89 @cakeracha

[hazymoonlinh]

🤔 phainon x astral express member fem reader

Like he is fall in love with her in first sight when he first meeting with the other astral express member. In that scene when he suddenly appear and then he cut dan heng's weapon into two, thats where they first meet.

👀 Imagine how he try to impress fem reader by showing of his skill and flirt with her

Ahaha I have a lot of draft I write for him and my OC just like this. So this kinda base on those draft.

Really really love this! I hope you like it!

Our first meeting.

(Fluff, Phainon is head over heels with reader.)

Fem!reader.

“You’ve got something interesting,” Phainon drawled, his icy blue eyes scanning the group.

The clash of steel rang out sharply, echoing through the quiet ground of the abyss of fate. Phainon, with his usual flamboyant flair, emerged like a thunderbolt, took the trailblazer’s bat as he sliced Dan Heng’s spear clean in two. He landed with a smirk that could rival the sun, looking every bit the arrogant warrior he was known to be.

But then he saw her.

Among the stalwart crew of the Astral Express, she stood out—not because of her combat stance or any defiant glare, but simply because she existed. Her eyes, her presence, the way she carried herself—it hit him like a strike to the chest. For the first time in what felt like centuries, Phainon faltered.

“Oh,” he said under his breath, his smirk slipping for the briefest of moments.

“Who are you?” she demanded, stepping forward, her gaze sharp.

Phainon recovered quickly, his trademark grin returning. “Who am I? Why, I’m the one who’s just stolen your heart, darling.”

The group collectively groaned, except for her. She blinked, clearly taken aback. “Excuse me?”

“Forgive me,” Phainon said, his tone deliberately melodramatic as he placed a hand over his chest. “I wasn’t expecting to meet someone so radiant today. I’m Phainon, by the way. Remember the name—I’ll make sure it’s worth your while.”

“Is he serious?” The Trailblazer whispered to Dan Heng, who was still glaring at his broken weapon.

“Unfortunately,” Dan Heng muttered.

From that moment on, Phainon became a constant presence, much to the frustration of the rest of the two Astral Express crew. Wherever she went, he wasn’t far behind, finding every excuse to be close to her.

“Need help?” he asked one day, leaning casually against a wall as she searched through the streets of the Okhema for treasures.

“I’m fine,” she said without looking at him, crouched over a map.

“Come on,” he said, stepping closer. “A treasure hunt’s no fun without a partner. Besides,” he added, flashing a dazzling smile, “I’m quite good at finding hidden things. Like your heart, for example.”

She rolled her eyes, but there was the faintest hint of a smile tugging at her lips. “You’re unbelievable.”

“I try,” he said with a wink, pulling out his weapon and twirling it effortlessly. “But in all seriousness, two sets of eyes are better than one. I’ll even let you keep all the treasure we find—consider it my gift to you.”

“Fine,” she relented, standing up and brushing off her hands. “But no more flirting.”

“Deal,” Phainon said, though his grin made it clear he had no intention of keeping that promise.

It didn’t take long for his antics to become a regular occurrence. Whether it was showing off his combat skills by slicing through imaginary enemies with theatrical flourishes or insisting on calling her nicknames like “starlight” and “darling,” Phainon seemed determined to leave an impression.

“Why do you keep doing this?” she asked one day as they walked through the streets, the sun casting a warm glow over the city.

“Doing what?” he asked innocently, though his eyes sparkled with mischief.

“Following me. Flirting with me. Trying so hard to impress me.”

He stopped walking, his expression softening. “Because I’ve never met anyone like you before,” he said, his voice sincere. “And I don’t want to miss my chance.”

For a moment, the playful mask slipped, revealing a glimpse of the man behind it. And though she wasn’t quite ready to admit it, something about him was beginning to grow on her.

___

Few days later.

By now, Phainon had become a fixture in her daily life. His teasing had shifted into something more gentle, his playful remarks often followed by acts of genuine kindness. She’d catch him looking at her when he thought she wasn’t paying attention, his gaze softening in a way that felt different than before.

One evening, after a particularly difficult mission, Phainon appeared outside her quarters, holding something behind his back.

“Phainon, what now?” she asked, her tone flat but not unkind.

He grinned, stepping closer. “I’ve got a surprise for you, darling. Close your eyes.”

She raised an eyebrow, wary but intrigued. “A surprise? I’m not going to like this, am I?”

“Just trust me,” he said, his voice dropping lower, playful but gentle.

Reluctantly, she closed her eyes. When she opened them again, he was holding out a small, delicate flower—an exotic bloom with silver petals that shimmered faintly under the light.

“It’s a flower from a faraway land,” he said. “One that only blooms for those who capture my heart. Consider it a token of my affection.”

She stared at the flower for a long moment, the sincerity in his voice settling over her like a gentle warmth. “Phainon…”

“Don’t say a word,” he murmured, leaning a little closer. “I know I’m not easy to deal with. But I’m persistent. And for some reason, I can’t seem to stay away from you.”

She smiled softly, unable to hold it back. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

He chuckled, handing her the flower. “Impossible… or irresistible? I’ll let you decide, starlight.”

In the days that followed, Phainon continued to find ways to be near her, whether it was sharing his battle strategies, teasing her during downtime, or offering to help with anything she needed—just so he could be close. There was no escaping him, but somewhere along the way, it began to feel less like an annoyance and more like a comforting constant.

Phainon, with all his pride, flirtation, and ever-present smirk, had carved a place in her life—and maybe, just maybe, she was starting to see him in a different light.

[sweetcherriexs]

big mama; b.e.

part one: oh yeah? smut...

thirty minutes later, and billie was pushing you into your bedroom, a mischievous glint in her eyes as she turned around to shut the door behind the two of you.

the moment the door clicked shut, billie’s smirk was enough to make her your knees weak once more, your heart raced in your chest, awaiting your sweet reward for being so so good. the energy between you was electric, charged with the promise of what was to come. billie’s fingers curled around your wrist, pulling you closer until your bodies were flush againsteach other. “you’ve been so good for me,” she purred, her voice low and dripping with intent. “such a good girl...and now it’s time for your reward.”

your breath hitched, a shiver running down your spine at the way billie’s words wrapped around you like a vice. you both knew what this was—what it always was. billie was in control, and you were more than eager to surrender to it.

billie guided you toward the bed, her steps deliberate, her gaze never wavering. the air between you was heavy, loaded with unspoken promises. when you reached the bed, billie trailed a hand up your arm, stopping when her hand reached your chin and she tapped her index finger against your chin “on your knees,” she commanded, her voice leaving no room for hesitation.

you obeyed without question, heart pounding in your chest as you sank to your knees, the cool hardwood floor biting into your skin. billie stood over her, towering and dominant, her eyes dark with desire. she reached down, her fingers tangling in your hair before she yanked your head back, forcing you to meet her gaze. “what's it gonna be, baby?,” she whispered, her breath hot against your face. “are you gonna remain a good girl? take whatever i give you? It's your reward, after all.”

The words sent a jolt of heat straight to your core, and you nodded, lips parting in a silent plea. billie’s smirk widened, and she released her grip, stepping back to strip off her own clothes with a deliberate slowness that was maddening. you watched, mouth dry, as your girlfriend revealed her body piece by piece, each movement calculated to drive you wild.

when billie was finally bare, she reached for the strap-on lying on the nightstand, her fingers curling around the base as she stepped closer. your eyes dropped to the toy, pulse quickening at the sight of it. billie noticed, and her smirk turned wicked. “you like that, don’t you?” she teased, her voice dripping with amusement. “you can’t wait to feel it inside you.”

your cheeks flushed, but you didn’t deny it. you couldn’t. the truth was written all over your face, in the way your breath came in shallow gasps, in the way your thighs pressed together to ease the ache. billie chuckled, low and throaty, as she stepped forward, attaching the harness to the milky skin of her hips, the tip of the strap-on brushing against your lips. “open,” she ordered, her voice firm.

you gulped, teeth digging into your lower lip as you felt the tip of billie's cock against it, but, you obeyed, tongue darting out to lick the tip before taking it into your mouth. billie groaned, almost as if she could feel the warmth of your mouth as you took her so prettily, her hand tightening in your hair as she guided your head forward, watching with dark satisfaction as you worked the length of the toy with your mouth. “that’s it, pretty” she murmured, her voice rough with need. “get it nice and wet for me. you’re going to need it.”

your eyes nearly rolled back at the thought of what awaited you after you got billie's cock wet enough. the coil in the bottom of your stomach already beginning to form as you dragged your tongue along the toy, sucking and licking like it was a real dick, as if your girlfriend is going to give you a load of her sweet cum down your throat. fuck, how you wish she would.

suddenly, billie's hips thrust forward, the toy hitting the back of your throat making you gag and your eyes well with tears as they snapped up to meet hers. "lost in thought, baby?" she mused, fingers gripping your hair tighter before she pulled her hips back then thurst forward roughly once more, repeating the motion with an eager look in her eyes. "thaaaat's it, good girl" she breathed out, basically fucking your throat. her head was thrown back, lost in the moment as if she could feel as your cheeks hollowed and your throat loosened around her cock. "fuck" she grunted before tilting her head back again.

when she was satisfied, billie pulled the toy from your mouth, a string of saliva connecting you for a brief moment before it snapped. she stepped back, her eyes locking onto yours as she spoke. “on the bed. now.”

you scrambled to obey, legs trembling as you climbed onto the mattress, your body sinking into the soft sheets. billie followed, climbing over you with a predatory grace that made your stomach flip and twist with bubbling desire. she grabbed your wrists, slowly dragging them above your head, leaning down to capture your lips in a searing kiss that left your both breathless. when she pulled away, her eyes were blazing. “you’re going to take every inch of this fucking cock,” she growled, her voice low and dangerous. “and you’re going to beg for more.”

you whimpered, hips bucking up impatiently, wanting her to fuck the absolute life out of you, your body arching against billie’s as the words sent a rush of heat through your veins. billie grinned, her teeth grazing your neck as she nipped at the sensitive skin, leaving a mark that would linger for days. then her tongue darted out, running up the column of your throat as you gulped before she came face to face with you and she rested her chin on top of yours, a grin adorning her lips before she looked up into her eyes and in a split second her spit hit your tongue. you felt it heavy on the flesh, a small whimper escaping you as you closed your mouth and billie chuckled lowly "swallow..." she purred softly, leaning back to watch as your throat moved when you swallowed. "good girl," her hands trailed down your body, leaving a trail of fire in their wake, until they reached your hips, gripping them hard enough to leave bruises.

billie positioned herself between your legs, the tip of the strap-on pressing against your entrance in a teasing promise. you gasped, clenching around nothing in a desperate manner as your mouth fell open. she looked down at you, her eyes dark with hunger. “ready, baby?” she asked, her voice a low rumble.

you nodded, breath coming in shallow gasps as you braced yourself for what was to come. billie smirked, her hips snapping forward in one brutal thrust that made you cry out, back arching off the bed. “mmm, yes,” billie hissed, her voice rough with satisfaction. “take it like the good girl you are.”

"yes... yes, bils. gon- gonna take it f'you" you panted out, senses so overwhelmed you could barely keep up but then she thrust again and you moaned out, eyes fluttering closed as the tip of the cock kissed your cervix. your clit throbbed for attention as billie continued her torture.

she set a relentless pace, each thrust driving the strap-on deeper, stretching your apart in the most delicious way. your moans filled the room, body trembling with the intensity of it all. billie leaned down, her lips brushing against your ear as she spoke, her voice dripping with filthy promises. “you’re so tight for me,” she purred. “you feel so fucking good. I could do this all night.”

your nails dug into the sheets, hips meeting billie’s thrusts with a desperate urgency. you were already on the edge, your body thrumming with need, but billie wasn’t done yet. her hand sneaked down, pressing her thumb against your aching clit, making you cry out as the spring in the pit of your stomach tigtened further and further. she pulled her thumb away then, holding your hips in place as she drove the strap into you at a vigorous pace. her other hand going up to grip your throat, making your eyes roll back and your mouth hang open, just on the verge. you were right there, so so close but then, with a roughness that bordered on cruelty, she pulled out, flipping you onto your stomach with a sharp slap to your ass. “hands and knees,” she ordered, her voice leaving no room for argument.

you whined pathetically, tears in your eyes. "I thought this was a reward," you whimpered out, feeling so empty.

billie scoffed, slapping your thigh this time "it's gonna be" she muttered "as soon as you begin to obey" she spat roughly and that made your brain shut off.

you obeyed, body trembling with anticipation as you positioned yourself on all fours. billie took full advantage, slamming into you with a force that made you scream, her hands fisting the sheets as she struggled to keep herself upright. your eyes rolled to the back of your head, the tip of the cock hitting places that were untouched for too long. billie’s hands gripped your hips, her nails digging into your skin as she fucked your with a relentless intensity.

“that’s it, pretty girl” Billie growled, her voice rough with desire. “take it, and I’m not stopping until you’ve come so many times you can’t even fucking think.”

her words made you moan louder, crying out as her thrusts intensified. your head fell forward, panting as billie pounded your pussy so good. your juices smeared all over her thighs and your ass, making delicious sounds with every meet of flesh.

soon your arms gave out, staying with your face buried into the pillow with your ass up. your drooled and closed your eyes in bliss, moaning loudly when you felt that sweet hot release taking over. you breathed heavily, moans coming in short, rhythmic puffs. you pushed your ass back to meet billie's hips, eager to get off.

your body shook with the force of your orgasm, cries muffled by the pillow beneath you. but billie wasn’t done. she kept going, driving harder, deeper, until you was a writhing, trembling mess beneath her. “again,” she demanded, her voice a low growl. “come for me again.”

[svnriseblvdd]

neighbour! clark kent x new girl! reader

SYNOPSIS: when your car breaks down right as you need to pick up a friend in metropolis, clark offers to give you a ride (not the type you want) and you step up your game.

everyone thank my writer's block, because if not for that, this would never have been as out there as it is. like if i'd released this half a week ago, it would not be anywhere near this level. i still had writer's block while grinding this out, so every question of where to go next was answered with 'make it HORNIER'. and you're welcome.

WARNINGS: mentions of road head, brief palming, accidental crotch grab, innuendo, clark is perpetually horny and shameful (who isn't?), he's still so down bad and needs loving desperately. (someone let this boy get RAILED (that's my job, really, but i promise i've got one more chapter idea before he FUCKS))

part one! part two! part three!

You sigh frustratedly as you lift the hood of your car to try to gauge the problem. Perhaps the problem was that the car was old as hell, just repainted and spruced up a little to give the illusion that it was simply vintage, not a second hand metal bag of parts. 

“Everything okay?” 

You look up to find Clark coming over. Whether it's good luck or not, you've broken down in front of the Kents house. No family nicer than the Kents exist. It's entirely possible. They're endlessly helpful. The problem, as always, is their gorgeous son. 

It's hot out, he's been sweating enough to give him a particular entrancing sheen over his skin. And now you're frustrated for two very different reasons. 

“No. Stupid car broke down,” you muttered, chest heaving in a sigh. 

Clark’s gaze wanders, against his will. All of a sudden, he’s looking at your chest, the way your breasts have been pushed up by a combination of that gorgeous tank top and probably the bra beneath it. And now he’s thinking about your underwear. You in your underwear and nothing else. You standing in your underwear in front of him, begging for his help once again. 

He closes his eyes firmly and looks away, mentally smiting himself. He can’t think about you like that. You’re his neighbour, his friend, and you’re in trouble. 

He clears his throat, speaking in the hopes that he can distract himself from the sight of your cleavage and bare legs. “Okay, well, why don't we push it up to the house? We can take a look at it, see if we can get it started again. If not, at least it's not out in the road in the way.” 

“Yeah, I guess. Thanks.” 

And so the two of you manage to push your crappy car up to the front of the house, where Mr Kent joins you to take a look at it with Clark. 

“Good news is, it's totally fixable. Bad news is, you'd need a mechanic to do it. We'll call them and they can tow it from here.” 

You sigh, looking at your watch. “Damn it. I'm supposed to pick up my friend from the station in Metropolis in a couple of hours.” 

“Well, I can take you in our car,” Clark suggests. 

“You'd do that?” You ask, and he nods, charming smile still there. You grin, throwing your arms around his neck in a hug as his arms slide around your waist. “Thank you, Clark, you're a lifesaver.” 

Clark can feel as the blush begins to set in. “Yeah, of course. We can get going as soon as you're ready to.” 

“I'm ready now, if that's okay?” 

“Yeah, absolutely.” 

It’s not until you’re in the passenger seat and on the road that either of you speak again. “So, who’s your friend?” 

“Just one of the girls from Central City. I told her she could visit once I was settled in. She’s fun, you’ll love her.” 

You play with your hair, and it sends a fresh whiff of your scent in Clark’s direction. He doesn’t know if it’s perfume or shampoo, but he knows he’s already addicted. You cross one leg over the other, and fold your arms. Clark glances over, a moment of weakness that he hates himself for. It’s like he wants to punish himself. Something in him that says that if he’s going to think like this, he can go unsatisfied and hurting. It’s not logical. In fact, he knows that looking is the one indulgence he’ll allow himself. A brief glance that he won’t let linger, thoughts he’ll bury as long as possible. 

“I’m sorry about your car,” he says, in an attempt to distract himself from your bare legs and accentuated cleavage. 

You smile a little. “Don’t worry about it. Thank you for helping.” 

“Yeah, don’t mention it.” 

“No, really, Clark, thank you,” you say, turning towards him and leaning over the console in the centre, hands resting on it and pushing your breasts up and together. “You’re always there whenever I need you. You’re so good, Clark.” He’s going to explode again. “Really. I can’t thank you enough.” 

Yet again, your attempts seem to have been either obliviously ignored or politely rejected, as Clark doesn’t respond to them. Granted, this was one of your more low-key comments, but he hasn’t even glanced at your tits, and they’re right there! 

So you decide to double down. Test to see if he’s just oblivious, awkward, or not interested. 

One of your hands lands on his thigh. He blinks, but doesn’t look at you. “You’re so helpful, Clark. Always happy to help when I need you. And I always need you. There has to be some way for me to repay you.” Your hand travels further up his thigh. In an ideal world, you’d be giving him road head right now, not halfway to it. 

Clark finally looks at you, his cheeks a little flushed, and as he turns his head, his gaze lands right on your chest. 

Immediately, though, a car horn sounds, and Clark’s eyes dart back onto the road in time to swerve back into his own lane. The road had been totally empty for a while now, it hadn’t even occurred to him that eventually they had to run into someone. 

He blinks heavily. “Sorry. I’m sorry.” 

You smile, eyes bright with mischief. “For the nearly dying? Or the other thing?” 

“Uh, both. I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.” 

You giggle. “It’s okay, Clark. Really, you’re fine. More than fine.” 

Your hand is still on his upper thigh, a dangerous place. A bump in the road underneath the right front wheel jolts you, and your hand accidentally slips onto Clark’s crotch, applying pressure. His eyes go wide as saucers, a strangled noise barely escaping him before he gets a hold of his vocal cords. 

“Oh!” You gasp. “I’m sorry, Clark!” 

You pull your hand off, returning to your side of the car. That had slightly ruined your entire plan. It was a total accident. You hadn’t meant to straight up grab the guy. Just tease him a little. Shit. 

When you get out of the car at the Metropolis station to go find your friend, Clark takes the opportunity to do some breathing exercises, and uses the cover of his jacket to his advantage, palming at himself to relieve the ache a little for now. He bites the inside of his cheek to suppress the urge to make some sort of sound. He doesn’t know what it’ll be, and he’s alone in the car, but whatever it is, it’ll be embarrassing enough even if he’s the only one to hear it. So instead he just breathes a little irregularly, head tilted back a little against the headrest. 

He sees your friend with you as you approach the car again, and he tears his hand away from himself begrudgingly. Your friend has a grin on her face, eyes wide with excitement as you both talk with equal enthusiasm. 

You join her in the back this time, probably for the best, but you’re still on the opposite side of the car to him, so he sees you easily in the mirror, and all he needs to do is turn his head a little and let his peripheral vision do the rest. 

“Oh, you’re so right,” your friend says, and you shush her despite your giggling. 

taglist;

@blueeweeb

@ssnapsaurus

@artyandink

@i-got-a-bad-feeling-about-this

@milestellerismybf

@purple-1995

@writergiih

@elysianrosie

@glennussy

[chewnotchoke]

for you to be here, again.

ೃ࿐ boynextdoor as exes who cannot get over you

warnings: boynextdoor x reader, angst, break up, pining, bonedo crying bcs i have thing for crying boys lmao wc: 1.8k

sungho 

𓍯 he isn’t the annoying, embarrassing ex who can’t take a hint. no, sungho is far from that. his inability to move on is quiet, almost invisible. it’s in the small things you’d never notice unless you looked closely enough.  

𓍯 whenever he misses you, he doesn’t flood your inbox with desperate texts or try to insert himself back into your life. instead, he scrolls through your old messages, reading each line as if searching for something he missed, something that might tell him how it all fell apart. on nights when the ache in his chest feels unbearable, he logs into a spam account just to check your social media. he studies your posts in silence, wondering if the smile in your photos is real or just for show.  

𓍯 after the breakup, he developed a habit of overanalyzing everything. he reads and rereads your last messages, dissecting every word, every punctuation mark. he clicks on the names of people who like your posts and studies the profiles of those you’ve recently followed, crafting stories in his head that only fuel his misery.  

𓍯 and then there was that evening—when the sun was setting and the orange light softened everything but the weight of the moment. you’d agreed to meet him for closure, ready to draw the final line between you both. you thought it would be simple, clean. a goodbye. but when it came time to leave, he just couldn’t let go of your hand.  

𓍯 standing by the side of the street, his grip tightened as though letting go would mean losing the last piece of you forever. his lips quivered as he tried to keep it together, but the tears betrayed him, spilling down his cheeks before he could even form the words. his voice was low, trembling, and desperate. “i’ll be better…hm?” his swollen eyes searched for yours, his vulnerability raw and heartbreaking.  

𓍯 in that moment, it was as if he’d fall to his knees right there on the pavement if it meant convincing you to stay. he didn’t care who might be watching or how foolish he might look. his hand stayed firm around yours, a silent plea that screamed louder than any words he could manage. he was willing to beg, to promise, to do anything—if only you’d give him one more chance. 

riwoo

𓍯 in his latest post, he wore a bracelet you both shared during better days, casually wrapped around his wrist. he doesn’t mention it, but he hopes you’ll notice. it’s his silent way of saying he still thinks about you, even now, after everything fell apart.

𓍯 he blames himself for losing you, overanalyzing every fight, every word left unsaid. he tells himself it’s because he wasn’t enough or didn’t try hard enough. in his mind, if he had just loved you better or held on tighter, maybe he wouldn’t have lost you.

𓍯 your relationship with riwoo was a cycle of hope and heartbreak, on and off, again and again. each time you tried to fix it, the cracks seemed to deepen, but he refused to let go. he gave everything to keep you, even when it felt like the universe was against you both. and yet, despite his desperate efforts, he still lost you in the end, even though it was never truly his fault.

𓍯 riwoo is the type to drunk text you, and everyone knows it. his friends would drag him out for a karaoke night at the ktv, hoping to take his mind off you. but instead of grabbing the mic and singing along, he’d sit in the corner, nursing a drink as his friends’ voices echo through the room. one shot turns into two, then three, until the alcohol numbs his senses—but not his thoughts.

𓍯 eventually, he’d slip outside under the guise of needing fresh air. his friends would find him leaning against a wall, his phone screen glowing in the dark as he carefully types out a message for you.

𓍯  his words are raw, aching with vulnerability: "how are you so good at pretending i never meant anything to you, while i’m here thinking about you all day even at times when i should be happy? did you even love me? do you ever think of me too? why does it feel like this doesn’t kill you the way it’s killing me?”

jaehyun

𓍯 you have no idea what your absence does to jaehyun. one time when jaehyun couldn't stop himself from crossing your boundaries as exes, he dialed your number and called you. when he didn't expect you to answer, you could hear how his voice wavers when he talks to you, how it almost feels like he's choking in his own tears, asking you to come back, and telling you how much he's struggling to move on. 

𓍯 “y/n, i can’t do this. please.” jaehyun’s voice cracked, his grip on your hand trembling as he stared at you with eyes that brimmed with desperation. “i don’t want to throw away all the love i have for you. i can’t. i could never give this love to someone else. so please... let me love you again.”  

𓍯 your heart clenched at the raw pain in his voice, but you forced yourself to stay firm. swallowing back the lump in your throat, you reached down to pry his hand off yours, even as it broke both of you further. “jaehyun, you can.” your voice shook, but you kept going, fighting through the ache. “right now, you feel like you can’t because… we just broke up. but trust me, you’ll move past this. you’ll give that love to someone else—someone who deserves it.”  

𓍯 his breath hitched, and he shook his head fiercely, tears streaking down his cheeks. “but they’re not you.” he choked out, the words thick with frustration and heartbreak. “y/n, it’s not the same if it’s not you.”  

𓍯 the weight of his words hung heavy in the air, suffocating. for a moment, you faltered, the pain in his voice slicing through your resolve like a blade. but you knew—no matter how much it hurt—it was over. you had to let go, even if he wasn’t ready to.

taesan 

𓍯 taesan dodges every potential relationship that comes his way, like he’s running from something he can’t bear to face. and maybe he is—because no matter how hard he tries, no matter how much time passes, he can never get over you.  

𓍯 it’s impossible for him to be with someone else without you creeping into his mind, lingering like a ghost in every quiet moment. every laugh he hears feels dull compared to yours. every fleeting touch lacks the warmth he once knew. even though you couldn’t care less that he’s still breathing, you haunt him in ways you’ll never realize.  

𓍯 women approach him, some bold, others subtle, each one trying to capture his attention. but none of them could ever come close to you. he knows it’s unfair, knows he’s holding them to a standard they could never meet because they’re not you. and yet, he lets the comparisons swallow him whole, shutting out every chance at moving on. 

𓍯 late at night, when the weight of it becomes too much to bear, he’ll grab his phone and type out messages that he knows he shouldn’t send. but he does anyway, each word a quiet plea he can’t hold back: “i just feel like… we didn’t even try enough. don’t you think?”

𓍯 even then, he knows the answer. he knows you’ve moved on without looking back. but for taesan, forgetting you feels like forgetting a part of himself

𓍯 taesan might appear composed and nonchalant to the world, but when it comes to you, he’s a storm of emotions he can’t contain. the mere thought of you and the life you could’ve shared leaves him unraveling, tears spilling freely as he lets himself feel every ounce of the ache, no longer holding back what he’s been keeping buried inside.

leehan

𓍯 when you were together, he never failed to share every detail of his day with you—what he ate, the things he saw, even the random thoughts that crossed his mind. but after the breakup, he didn’t know where to put all those thoughts anymore. with no one else to confide in, he started typing them into the notes on his phone, just in case there was ever a chance to talk to you again. in his mind, he held onto the hope that one day, he could sit down with you and tell you about everything you’d missed.

𓍯 but when reality sank in, when he realized that chance might never come, he couldn’t stop the tears from falling. the weight of missing you crushed him in moments like these, and no matter how hard he tried to distract himself, he always came back to the same aching longing.

𓍯 of all the members, he’d be the one trapped in the cycle of longing the longest. he wouldn’t open up to others, keeping his feelings bottled up instead. he thought if he could just hold on quietly, it might hurt less, but that only made moving forward harder.

𓍯 for leehan, moving on felt like losing you all over again. so he never rushed the process, knowing deep down that forcing himself to let go would only make the pain worse. he took his time, letting himself grieve at his own pace.

𓍯 he was sentimental to a fault. every little thing that had been yours—the mug you left behind, the hoodie you forgot to take home—still sat where it had always been, as if they’d belonged there all along. he didn’t have the heart to pack them away. they were pieces of you, and even if they hurt to look at, he couldn’t bring himself to let them go.

woonhak

𓍯 woonhak would be the type to keep his distance, even when his heart ached to be near you. no matter how much he missed you, he’d choose to stay in the background, silently watching as you moved forward without him. he convinced himself it was for the best, he didn’t want to disturb the peace you’d found in his absence.

𓍯 every time he thought about reaching out, his fingers would hover over his phone, only to set it down again with a quiet sigh. he couldn’t bring himself to pull you back into the tangled mess of emotions he carried. so instead, he stayed silent, swallowing his longing even when it hurt the most.

𓍯 one thing about woonhak is when he cries, he doesn’t hold back. tears fall freely as if each one carries the weight of everything he’s been holding inside. he doesn’t hesitate to let it out because keeping it in feels unbearable. but reaching out to you? that’s a step he’s too afraid to take.

𓍯  so instead, he turns to his most trusted friends, the ones who know him better than he knows himself sometimes. with shaky breaths and tear-streaked cheeks, he crumbles in their presence. “what the hell did i do wrong?” he chokes out, his voice breaking under the weight of his heartbreak. “where did it all go wrong? all i did was love her.” the words spill from him like a flood, his sobs filling the silence as his older friends wrap him in their quiet understanding. 

[blxxmingrose]

sunny’s giggle gave hans a glimpse into her plans for the snacks if june hadn’t pointed them out, and it made him smile in that way that settled deep within him, much much more than just a curve of his lips but rather a feeling of contentment in what he had surrounding him at the moment. 

“right. let’s open one snack at a time, we don’t want any tummyaches,” he said with a knowing look at sunny. he didn’t want to let go of june’s hand just yet, and so he used his free hand to reach for the remote, starting one of the movies sunny had picked for their plans. she found her spot with the opened bag of snacks in her lap, leaning on hans like a cat who had found a cozy spot.

having her so near, and june still holding his hand, his thumb brushing over the back of his hand sending a current through him—it all felt so reassuring, so calming in its domesticity. “this is nice,” hans found himself whispering, wishing he could capture the moment but resolved to keep it in his memories instead. 

as the movie continued, the windows behind the tv showing the snow starting to pile up on trees, the light giving way to the cold evening, hans could only describe what he felt as peace. the kind of peace that could never be broken. the kind that found the cracks and crevices inside hans’ heart and filled them with warmth, promising never to be emptied again. 

a scene from the movie made hans stir from his position, realizing something. “i forgot the hot chocolate. i’ll be right back,” he whispered in the softest tone he could manage, his hand slowly breaking away from june, giving him an apologetic look. as he got up, sunny shifted to lean on june in his absence, the sight tugging at hans' heartstrings. he knew he’d remember that moment too, as he filled three cups of warm beverage, how his whole life was right there on the couch, waiting for his return. 

he added some marshmallows to the drinks before making his way to the couch slowly, balancing the two mugs with a smaller one he laid on the table within sunny’s reach. the two shifted easily to make room for him again, and he knew that’s how they would always be from now on, making room, holding space for each other like a true family. as the snowstorm raged outside, he handed june his cup, a smile on his face as he kept the littlest distance as possible. “it’s not as good a gift as sunny’s lollipop, but it should keep you warm,” he said, his heart and his lips both full of affection. 

june let himself be led, his hand resting comfortably in hans’ as they made their way to the couch. the weight of the moment lingered in the air, delicate, like the snow falling quietly beyond the window. he couldn’t help but glance down at their joined hands, fingers entwined with a kind of familiarity that felt both startling and completely natural.

there was something grounding about it — about hans’ hand in his, about the quiet hum of life inside their home, about the way the world outside seemed to fade into the background when he was here. and yet, for all its weight, it didn’t feel heavy.

it felt... reassuring.

june took a moment to let himself sink into the cushions. his gaze flickered to sunny, who was watching the snowfall with wide-eyed wonder. the sight made his chest ache in a way he hadn’t quite expected. it was soft, and tender, like something he didn’t know he needed but couldn’t imagine being without now. he turned his head slightly to look at hans, catching the way his face softened. that unspoken moment hung between them, and june realized he didn’t feel the urge to fill it with words. it was enough to just be.

june felt the words settle in his chest, gentle as the hand still holding his. he didn’t know how to respond. it wasn’t that he didn’t have anything to say — there was so much, too much, even — but he wanted to say it all the right way. to let hans know just how much this moment meant, how much he meant.

he shifted slightly, leaning a little closer to hans, his thumb brushing over the back of his hand in a small, unconscious gesture. “i’m glad i’m here too,” he said finally, his voice quieter than he’d intended but no less sincere. june gave hans’ hand a gentle squeeze, his smile soft but genuine. he glanced over at the snacks sunny had lined up and chuckled. “now, let’s get to those snacks before sunny decides to ‘forget’ to share.”

[pedropascalsx]

Release {Joel Miller x F! Reader}

Summary: You convince Joel to let you take control and he agrees but only once.

Warnings: sub/dom dynamics, consensual use of restraints, handjob, oral (male receiving), edging, orgasm denial, brief mentions of previous sexual encounters and cum eating.

Word count: 1441.

Authors note: i have not successfully finished a fic in over a year and i wrote this today in two hours, so i can’t promise you it’s very good. but i’ve had no confidence in my writing for the longest time and honestly im just really proud that i’ve finished something and i’m able to post.

i would really really really appreciate feedback as it’s been so long since i’ve written anything (positive or not! constructive criticism would be helpful if you have any!)

thank you guys! i hope you enjoy!

The sounds of metal clanging against metal momentarily drowns out the sound of his groans, as he attempts to lift his hands despite the restraints keeping them behind his back.

Sweat stains his skin and his chest heaves up and down as his eyes widen in protest as you threaten to stop. He’s taken it for so long, that the hard exterior that he’s spent years and years building has started to crack, leaving behind a man that’s desperate and unashamed to beg for you to give him what he needs.

He was reluctant at first, but you knew he would be, he has always been in complete control of every situation especially when it came to pleasure. From the moment he knew he had your consent, everything was on his terms - every position and the amount of times you’d be coming would be up to him. Until now.

You had spent weeks whispering filth into his ears, or begging loudly as he brought you to orgasm with his fingers or his cock and finally his reserve slipped.

“Just once.” Joel growled at you, earlier that day as exhaustion lingered in his bones, you had promised to take care of him and make every second worth his while and you were doing just that.

The second you have him firmly in place with the handcuffs he frequently uses on you, you take your position, kneeled in front of him with everything you’ll need ready to make him squirm, groan and curse your name.

You start off slow, squirting a little bit of oil on your hands and working it up and down his shaft, gently squeezing the tip of him with your thumb and working your hands back down again. Your hands stroke his cock in a slow languid manner, your tongue occasionally lapping up the liquid leaking from the tip before moving your head back.

As your speed increases, you twist your wrists with every pump of his cock, loving the way his groans become more frequent and he stops attempting to conceal the delicious sounds, letting them fall freely as you work him towards his pleasure. “How does it feel, Joel?” You whisper, before taking the tip of him in your mouth and sucking, still stroking the rest of his cock.

He grunts in response too lost in the way your mouth feels wrapped around his cock to attempt to make a coherent statement. You respond by hollowing your cheeks and sucking even harder, before pulling off him with a loud pop.

Sitting back, you admire the way the tip of his cock is flushed red and is leaking with pleasure. Your fingers wrap back around his shaft, and you start stroking and squeezing until you know he’s on the edge, ready to burst, and that’s when you pull them away. Loving the way he growls in response, demanding that you give him his pleasure, but you don’t, instead you cover his lips with yours and swallow every last grunt of frustration before standing up and moving backwards.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” He growls at you, as you walk across the room, saying nothing as you start to rifle through your bag.

You don’t respond. You keep looking until you find what you’re after, and only then do you make your way back to him. Saying nothing as you resume your kneeled position in front of him. You tear open the plastic and discard it somewhere beside you, presenting him the ring you’re about to wrap around him. The sound he makes is nothing short of feral, and it makes your cunt throb.

You gently roll the ring down to the base of his cock, and give him a few more languid strokes. “You have a gorgeous cock, Joel,” you mewl, before leaning closer and running your tongue around the tip. Wasting no more time, your strokes are fast and steady, each stroke synchronized to his breathing. ”Good boy,” you praise, as his cock throbs in your hand. His breath hitches as you take his balls in your other hands and gently squeeze his sack, while pumping his length.

“You’re so fucking hard,” you tease up at him, “I bet you’d wreck me with this on,” you say, as your fingertips trail over the ring and his cock twitches in response.

“Untie me and find out.” he growls and you simply shake your head.

“Next time, baby.”

His chest starts to heave harder and faster and you know he's getting close, he’s been denied an orgasm already and the way he’s started rocking his hips and fucking into your hands makes you think he’s determined not to be denied again, but you’re in charge, you look up at him and pout your lips and slowly shake your head before pulling your hands away, loving that way his cock bobs up and down after you let go.

“Not yet, Joel.” The tips of your fingers gently stroke his cock, as he grunts in frustration.

“Make me cum.” He demands, as you bring your face up to his, and bump your nose against his. “Now. And I won’t be as rough on you as I was planning for your punishment.”

“Punishment?” With a shake of your head, you tut. “A punishment for making you feel good? For worshipping this gorgeous cock, Joel? That’s not very nice.”

You don’t wait for his response, instead you drop back down to your knees and take him in your mouth as deep as you can, hollowing your cheeks and sucking hard. Looking up you keep your eyes trained on his eyes and you lick from base to tip, before taking the tip of him back in your mouth. Your tongue swirls around him and you moan in pleasure at the taste of him and the liquid spilling from the tip. He groans your name, as you wrap your fingers around the ring and increase the tightness.

The only sounds he can make of groans of pleasure as you bob your head up and down moaning around his sensitive flesh. You take him as deep as you can and hollow your cheeks, swallowing around him for as long as you can before pulling up for air. Momentarily feeling as wrecked as he looks. The telltale sign of him reaching the edge comes a lot quicker than you’re expecting, and you question whether he’s at his limit before deciding that he can take it a little longer and letting him fall out of your mouth. You wrap your fingers back around him giving him a few soft strokes - barely squeezing tight enough for him to feel any pleasure and look up at his wrecked exhaustion self.

You expect to hear a barrage of curses and moans, but instead he just whimpers and groans a few times. And that’s when he starts to thrash his hands and the sound of the metal handcuffs hitting the metal chair floods your ears and you know he’s at his limit.

Drenched in sweat, and clearly desperate for relief as he eyes focus on your hands - clearly concerned you’re going to stop.

“Please,” he begs, and it’s all you need. You reach down and roll the ring off his cock and let it fall to the floor, before wrapping your hand around him firmly.

“You ready for some release, Joel?” You ask, before stroking him hard and fast. Twisting your wrist as you pump him in even strokes, keeping your pace nice and steady. His tip is flushed an angry red, and leaking more pre-cum with every stroke. You swipe some with your thumb and work it into his cock. Keeping him nice and slick. You shower him with praise as his cock starts to throb and twitch in your hand. The sound he makes as he starts to cum is delicious, it's a pleasure like you’ve never heard from him before and it fills your chest with warmth.

You stroke him with both hands, and with every flick of your wrists he rewards you with another spurt of his cum. Your hands and wrists covered in his pleasure, ready for you to taste once you’re finished.

Finally with a loud groan and a final spurt of his cum you know he’s completely spent. His eyes widen as he watches you taste him off your own skin, not letting a single drop go to waste.

“You were perfect,” you praise him, as you push and press a kiss to his lips. “And I’ll be ready and waiting to take whatever punishment coming my way.” You tease with a wink.

[roseyodditea]

A little Comfort - Harumasa x gn!Reader

Summary -> 600 words, established relationship. Very incredibly so self indulgent Warnings -> none

One more crumb of bad news would honestly set you over the edge today. A pebble in your shoe, getting stopped at too many crosswalks on your way home, one single open mouthed cough from a child, any little inconvenience could push you further down whatever spiral you’ve found yourself in. Your phone buzzes in your pocket, and if the feeling of the tiny motor wasn’t your last straw, the message that stared at you certainly was. 

{Harumasa <3: “Sorry darling, overexerted myself in a hollow today. Gotta cancel our dinner plans tonight.”}

You walked up the stairs to leave the metro station as tears cloud your vision too much to make out the letters on the screen as you press the call icon, bringing the ringing phone up to your ear. 

“Hey-” The weak voice of your boyfriend tries to greet you but you just snapped.

“What the hell, Haru, you told me you’d be careful! You promised me we’d have tonight to relax! This was the one good thing I had to look forward to today and you took that away from me!” You try not to be angry, you knew it wasn’t his fault, but right now the world was your enemy and you were going to let the rage in your heart burn.

Harumasa was quiet on the line before he sighs. “Come over. I’ll get some food delivered.” You expected an argument, some sort of ‘don’t blame me’, some sort of deflection or minimization.

“I thought you didn’t want me to see you weak…” Your voice was soft, the rage being replaced by confusion more than anything else. 

“Normally I don’t, but I think we need each other right now. Come over. Please?” How could you say no?

**********

You knock on the door, unsure of what was about to greet you. Harumasa was normally so lively, you never thought about what he’d be like when he wasn’t feeling well. The door opens and before you even had a change to check to see if there was a dull look in his eyes, you are pulled into a hug, arms wrap around you like you were the most precious thing in the world, warm, uneven breaths on your shoulder as he slumps over to melt into you. 

“What took so long?” He murmurs with a whiny edge to his voice, pulling you inside and closing the door before hands made quick work of your jacket.

“I was most of the way to my place. I had to turn around to come here.” Your answer came out soft, your earlier energy melting to this sort of numbness that settles across your chest. 

Harumasa pulled away just enough to look at you, his hair a mess, his work shirt unbuttoned all the way, his belt unbuckled but still threaded through the loops on his pants. “You look awful.” He had the audacity to say while burying a finger under your tired eyes.

“I look awful?” you crack a smile for the first time in a few hours. “Shut up and cuddle me.” “So bossy today.” He sighs dramatically before dragging you over to the couch, flopping down and pulling you with him, a slight tint of his usual humor bleeding through his chronic pain. 

It’s hard to feel the weight of the world with his arms around you, shielding you from your surroundings and even yourself. Even if he didn’t feel the greatest, he still held you with a warm, gentle touch. To him, it didn’t matter how bad your day was leading up to this exact moment, it just mattered that you were here and enjoying this moment of stillness in your usual chaotic life. 

A/N -> This was very quickly and sloppily written but ya girl needed a quick pick-me-up and sometimes just posting something close enough to done is what I need

[blushsturns]

bad boy! matt and librarian! reader 𝜗𝜚

part three ⭑ where’d you go?

description: matt starts to worry when he doesn’t hear from you after your first date.

w/c: 2784

masterlist ♡ pt.2

all matt could think about was your date last night. how you both talked for hours, your beautiful smile when he’d tell a stupid joke, how your cheeks would turn a bright shade of pink when he’d compliment you and your eyes would pull away from his just for a moment to try and hide it, but he could always tell. he could read you very well. he was really good at reading people and he knew that his charm had an effect on you.

this was completely out of the ordinary for matt. some would say he has commitment issues. he’s only had one serious girlfriend in the past. the rest were all hookups and flings and he didn’t care enough about them if they stayed or left. he’d throw parties or attend them, hook up with whoever gave him the most attention, and then never speak to the girl again. he usually preferred it that way, but there was something about you. something different, refreshing, exciting. he usually could care less to see a girl again, but with you, he couldn’t wait to see you again every single time.

it was almost like an intoxicating drug that he just had to have. he needed his fix. he was hooked on you and he wasn’t sure how to process that information.

he hadn’t known you very long, but that wasn’t an issue. he already has learned so much about you and he wanted to keep learning more. during the date, he knew he didn’t talk much about himself when he should’ve, but he was always known to be a bit mysterious. he knew there was some kind of mending that needed to be fixed within him. he was more rough around the edges and closed off compared to his brothers, who were completely opposite. they didn’t care that he sold and smoked weed, hung around with the wrong crowd, or how he threw parties almost every weekend.

matt actually graduated at the top of his class in high school. he’s intelligent when he wants to actually put his mind to it. otherwise, he can’t be bothered. even though he had never stepped foot into the public library until the day he met you, he has a couple favorite authors that he hasn’t had a chance to tell you yet. he loved learning about you and hearing all of your stories, even if he could sense some of your walls were still up and you were guarding your heart. you were so innocent, so pure. matt was always known as the “bad boy” who didn’t give a fuck about anyone else around him

he didn’t live by the rules, didn’t really have a set plan for his life, probably smoked too much weed, and maybe hung around people who did bad things, but maybe, just maybe he had a soft spot for you. even though it hadn’t been that long, maybe you could help him see the good in life and within himself.

matt had just finished a deal, pocketing the money in his wallet and sliding the wallet is his jeans. he had texted you this afternoon asking if he could stop by at the library to see you today because he had to go out with his brothers tonight and he didn’t want to, he’d rather spend time with you. he already blew them off the last couple weeks and instead hung out with his friends who probably weren’t good for him. he wanted to at least see you today even if it was for just a couple minutes. god, he was turning into a lovesick puppy, wasn’t he?

“don’t be fuckin’ late, like you always are.” chris said sternly as he continued his intense match of fortnite without even looking away from his screen. “seriously, if you blow us off again i will cut off your fuckin’ dick and that’s a promise.”

“jesus, chris.” matt rolled his eyes, annoyance building up inside of him. he loved his brothers, but they infuriated the fuck out of him. nick was in his room doing god knows what. if he knew that he was talking to you and going to the public library, he’d never hear the fucking end of it. “i’ll be back and no i’m not fuckin’ tell you where i’m going.”

chris let a laugh erupt from his throat, his fingers working intensely against the controller, his eyes focusing in on the game. “whatever you say, mysterious matt.”

matt shook his head in disbelief before grabbing his keys and walking out the door and out to his car. it didn’t help that his brothers didn’t drive, so if they wanted to go anywhere, matt was the designated driver. he checked his phone one last time to see if you had texted him back. it had been a whole two hours and he hadn’t heard anything from you.

should he be worried? should he start to panic? he never felt this way before. usually if he doesn’t hear back from a girl, he wouldn’t care and just move on, but he couldn’t do that with you. there was something different about you, something special. he wanted to explore it, even if that meant stepping out of his comfort zone. he decided to just wait until he got to the library, not wanting to blow up your phone and started driving towards the library.

the entire time he was driving, his fingers anxiously tapped against the steering wheel, trying his best to stay focused on the road ahead. luckily the library wasn’t too far from his house, but in this scenario, it felt like it was taking forever to get there.

why did he care so much? it hadn’t been long since he met you and all he could do was think about you. it was like his brain was consumed of you and every part of you that he’s been able to witness so far. he wanted more, he needed more. this was a dangerous feeling and he wasn’t sure how far he was willing to go with it.

he quickly pulled into the library parking lot, noticing it was a bit more busy than he’s seen before. he couldn’t get out of his car fast enough, walking inside of the library and heading straight upstairs where he usually goes to look for you.

matt walked straight to the desk, but you weren’t there. he walked through each aisle, hoping to see you like he did last time with your cart and headphones on your cute little head, but you were no where in sight. now he was really starting to worry. he pulled out his phone to check if you texted him and you hadn’t. he sent you a quick text, asking where you were before stuffing his phone back into his pocket. where the hell did you go?

he didn’t want to ask anyone and have them wonder what the fuck he wanted as if he was a creep who was stalking you or something. he decided to check the children’s area which was downstairs, even though he assumed that could be a longshot. the library was huge, so he was trying not to panic yet.

it was a little silly to be walking into the children’s section at his grown ass age. there were bright colors all over the walls, a room with toys and a bunch of children playing and more bookshelves filled with children’s books. nobody seemed to pay any attention to him which was much to his benefit. just when he was about to turn the corner, he heard a familiar voice, but in more sing-song tone obviously meant for kids.

it was you.

right in front of him was a big room with frosted glass windows, but the door was open. the sign on the wall said “youth programming room”. he tilted his head to get a look inside and there you were. you sat in front of a group of 20 small children with a book in your hand as you read it aloud to them. you had an infectious smile on your face, the children giggling and clapping as you continued to sing and read the classic rhyming book.

“chicka chicka boom boom! will there be enough room? here comes h up the coconut tree!”

all the children giggled as you read and demonstrated what was happening, a wide smile on your face the entire time. god, you looked so fucking adorable and perfect. his body relaxed when he realized you were safe and not in any harm. your hair was curled with a bow clipped in the back, you wore a comfortable white sweater and a plaid skirt with black tights.

matt stood there against the doorway, his body leaning against the frame, his face softening and body continued to relax as he continued to watch you in awe. he never felt the way before, nor has he even bothered to show up at another girl’s work to make sure she was okay and see her for a few minutes.

he probably looked like a creep just standing there, but he didn’t care. the parents were with their children, making them swing their hands and dance as you continued to read along to the book in your hands. this lasted another two minutes and you wrapped it up, thanking everyone for coming and that’s when matt immediately darted away from the door and stood by the aisle of the books.

he waited for the crowd to clear out and made sure the coast was clear before returning back to the doorway. your back was turned and you were bending down to begin cleaning up. at this angle, he got the most perfect view of your ass in your skirt that hugged your curves to absolute perfection. he knew he shouldn’t be staring, especially not when you just finished singing to a bunch of children, but he couldn’t help it. you were too damn perfect to look at that it was impossible to look away.

you heard footsteps coming from behind you and immediately assumed it was your co-worker so you started to speak before even turning around. “just ended the story time now, i have to take my lunch and then head back upstairs to the desk to finish off my shift.”

“can i take you out to lunch?”

you immediately turn around when you realize it wasn’t your co-worker standing behind you, gasping in surprise with your hand placed on your sudden racing heart. your eyes widened, locking your eyes immediately with matt as he stood before you.

his lips curve up into a wicked grin when he realized you weren’t expecting him at all and you were still trying to catch your breath. “matt, what the hell? what are you doing? you scared the shit out of me!” you spoke through your teeth to try and be quiet, not wanting anyone to hear although it was just you two alone in the program room.

“you weren’t answering my texts and i wanted to say hi because i won’t get to see you tonight. i got a thing with my brothers tonight. couldn’t miss an opportunity to see my favorite librarian in action.” he flashed you a playful wink, his lips curving up into a wider grin.

your cheeks instantly turned a bright shade of pink, your gaze pulling away from his to look down at the ground for a moment before back up into his eyes. you hadn’t realized he witnessed you in action doing story time. as a librarian, you are sometimes needed in the kid’s department to do story time because you’re so good with kids even though your main job was to work with the adults upstairs. you agreed to do it because you didn’t mind seeing the little kids singing, laughing, dancing, and having a good time all because of a little story time that you put together.

“i’m sorry.” you said shyly, biting gently onto your bottom lip. “i got really busy today, if you couldn’t tell. it’s not usually like this, but sometimes they need me to help out down here with the kids.”

he nodded his head as he listened to you intently, his eyes staying locked onto yours the entire time even when you had pulled your gaze away from his. you met his eyes once again, your cheeks only growing more warm just by staring at him. sometimes he was so pretty to look at it and with his ocean blue eyes, it was hard to stop staring, but you got flustered way too easily.

“yeah i saw that. those kids adore the shit outta you, huh?” he flashed you a grin, wiggling his eyebrows at you in a playful manner.

you let out a soft giggle and nod your head, placing a strand of your hair behind your ear. “yeah, i love them. i know it’s such a nerdy thing to say, but i love my job even if i have to sing sometimes.”

matt let out a soft chuckle at your words. “i think you sounded bad ass. is there anything you can’t do, pretty librarian?”

the nickname just rolls off his tongue now and it makes you feel warm and fuzzy all over every single time. you felt your cheeks burning at this point and you hadn’t even been standing here with him very long. “you’ll probably find out one of these days the more you spend with me.”

“i don’t think that’s possible.” he said a little more serious now, his face softening as he spoke.

you decided to lighten the mood again, a soft smirk playing on your lips. “so, did you miss me when you didn’t hear back from me or what?”

he immediately let out a soft chuckle, placing his hands in his pockets. he so desperately wanted to pull you close to him and hold you, but he knew this wasn’t the right place and time. he also wanted to take his time with you, which only seemed to surprise him considering that was never something he cared to do in his past. “so maybe i did. you had me worried for a moment there, pretty. i don’t like to be worried.”

you rolled your eyes at him playfully, lightly tapping him in the chest with your finger. “well i’m here now. how can i make it up to you?”

his lips immediately curve up into a slight smirk at your words. “two things.” he put up two of his fingers as he spoke which happened to make your gaze fall to his fingers, noticing how long and pretty his fingers were. “one, let me take you out to lunch.”

you nodded your head slowly at his words, trying to keep your focus on him instead of his hands before you. “okay, that’s doable.”

“and number two..and hear me out when i ask this.”

you raise your eyebrow up at him in a curious manner, a puzzled expression appearing on your face. “okay, why does it sound like i have to brace myself for what you’re about to ask me?”

he took a step closer to you so you were inches apart now, his hand moving up to place a strand of your hair over your ear which sent chills down your spine, your breath feeling like it got caught in your throat. you looked down at his lips before back up into his eyes, taking in a shaky breath. “just relax, pretty. it’s not bad. i promise.” his words were reassuring, soothing, promising.

you nodded your head before allowing your head to lean slightly towards his hand as it rested against the crook of your neck, his fingers lightly tracing your softened skin.

“so i’m having a party at my place tomorrow night. i really want you to come. it’s only fair.” he stopped speaking for a moment to follow your eyes, his fingers continuing to lightly caress your neck. he leaned in closer to you so his lips were now lingering against your ear, his breath hot and heavy against it as he spoke, “i’ve seen your world, but you haven’t seen much of mine. what do you say, pretty girl?”

you take in a shaky breath, the feeling of his lips against your ear, his fingers still grazing across your skin and his body merely touching yours causing your stomach to flutter with butterflies. you didn’t know what you were getting yourself into, but how could you say no when he makes such a good point?

“i’ll be there.”

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a/n:

shoutout to @camzeecorner for giving me the idea of librarian!reader reading to the kiddos. here is the ask they sent me!

thank you guys for all the love on this au! i’ve had so much fun writing this. next part will have some angst and possibly start heating up so get ready for that. :)

love you all so much!

-nessa ღ

[sammyluvr]

✶ sweet potatoes — sam winchester

cw : gn!reader, fluff, mentions of kissing, food, and very minor injury (spilt hot water), unedited, 1.2K words. requested ! for my 900 followers event [ closed ] .

prompt : a kitchen that smells like roasted sweet potatoes + “honey–” “why do you keep calling me that?” “i– do you want me to stop?” “…no.”

the promise of a freshly made hot drink has you wandering into the bunker’s kitchen. coffee or tea or maybe even hot chocolate, you’ll decide when you get there. a warm, rich smell greets you before you make it all the way down the hallway, and you breathe in deeply as you cross the threshold to fill your senses with it.

you’re greeted by a sight almost as sweet as the scent. sam sits at the table off to the side, pouring over the book he’s reading these days. he looks up when he hears you and smiles lightly. he and the smell of roasting sweet potatoes is a familiar pairing by now. it’s his favorite way to cook them, and one of his favorite foods. they’re incredibly healthy, and though he doesn’t always love sugared tastes, he likes their particular version of sweet.

you smile back at him easily, drifting past him and to the cabinet stocked with mugs. “smells good,” you sigh as you pull a cup down, knowing he’s made some for you too.

“there’s fresh coffee,” he tells you, and you glance back to see him hold up his own plain white mug as evidence.

“thanks, i think i’ll have some tea, though,” you decide. there’s an herbal mix better suited for this time of day. he nods in understanding, and lets his attention drift back to the book. at least, that’s how it looks before you turn away from him to fill the kettle with water and switch on the flame beneath it. once you’re not looking, he is and his honeyed eyes are trailing your form as you move about the kitchen, settling the tea bag into your mug. his chin dips back down when you pad over to the little table and settle in the seat across from him.

you sit there, a bit absentminded as you wait for the water to boil and he keeps his eyes mostly trained on the book in front of him. his gaze has a tendency to wander when he’s around you, usually just to see you. to see the tip of your nose or catch the movement of your eyebrows as you try to understand something. just for your fingers or smile or eyes, or any part of you at all. but he’s been accused of having heart eyes around you, so he tries not to be too obvious. he wouldn’t want to make you uncomfortable.

“so, when did the sweet potatoes go in?” you ask as a way to find out when they’ll be ready to eat. you asking him a direct question is an appropriate time for sam to be able to look at you, so of course, he does.

“about half an hour ago. it won’t be too long until they’re ready. you hungry?” he answers. he hopes you’re not too hungry to wait, maybe he should’ve asked you before.

“just a little,” you shake your head, thinking the timing to be perfect. you’ll be hungry enough by the time they’re cooled and ready to eat. the shrill whistle of the kettle interrupts you before you get the chance to ask him if he plans to make something with them or just eat them plain. you stand quickly to get rid of the noise. this old kettle is completely functional, but sometimes you think about investing in an electric one to avoid the loudness.

you turn of the stove and pull the kettle away from the heat. the water spills right into your mug over the tea bag as you tip the spout down. light brown tendrils stain the water, evening out into a pale color that will darken as it steeps. you fill the cup nearly to the brim, for no reason other than wanting more tea. then you set the kettle back down and loop your fingers through the handle, careful not to have your knuckles pressed into the now heated body of the mug.

sam watches fondly as you walk back to him, your movements slow and careful as to not spill. these efforts are futile the moment you sit down. you really should’ve just set the mug down before sitting, but maybe you’re a bit eager to be near sam again and the thought never crossed your mind. everything is much less steady as you lower yourself into the chair, scalding tea sloshing over the rim of the cup and pulling a pained gasp from your lips as it pours over your fingers.

“damn!” you hiss, spilling more as you quickly set the cup down and pull your hand away to rid it of the hot water.

“oh, honey,” sam mutters, the sweet name slipping from his lips without his control, just like it has been these days, a little too often. fingers gentle, he takes your hand from you by the wrist and pulls it towards him, inspecting it to see if he can find any signs of a burn. then he gives a soft tug. “c’mon, let’s get this under cold water.”

“it’s fine,” you say easily, but let him guide you back to the sink because your mind goes a little fuzzy every time he calls you that. he turns on the tap and checks the temperature, just to be sure it’ll be cold for you, then brings your hand under the stream of water. it feels nice, and you’re sure the burn won’t bother you for any longer than a few minutes. it’s quiet except for the rush of water and its splashing into the metal sink. closer to the oven, the scent the roasting sweet potatoes is thick, honeyed. honey. your voice is quiet when you speak, unable to let it go this time. “why do you keep calling me that?”

it takes him a moment to register what you mean. then he feels heat rise up from his neck, through his jaw, and into his cheeks. he’s not so sure how to answer. he calls you honey because he loves you, because it suits you, because he thinks you’re sweet and endearing and that you deserve to be called something soft and full of love. and also because he can’t help it. because it just slips out when he’s around you, and his self control wavers in your presence.

“i– do you want me to stop?” he says carefully. he decides to answer your question with one of his own, in hopes that he can deflect responsibility and in fear that he’s made you uncomfortable.

his fingers are still wrapped around your wrist with all the care in the world, and you probably don’t need to keep your hand under the water any longer, but you don’t move. there’s a moment where you don’t answer, and he holds his breath without realizing it. if you ask him to stop, it could very well break his heart.

“no,” you murmur, “no, you don’t have to stop.” it’s almost the perfect answer.

“but do you want me to?” he asks, voice softened like yours.

you shake your head. “no. i like it when you call me that. it just confuses me a little bit,” you say in all honesty. he turns the water off, and gently wraps your hand in a towel. in the process, he turns you both so that you’re face to face.

“i’m sorry i confused you. don’t be confused, though. i mean it when i say it,” he says, so very sincere and sending your heart into a lovesick panic.

your kiss is interrupted by the beeping of the oven timer, signalling the readiness of the sweet potatoes. you’re sure nothing will be as sweet as his lips, though.