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golbrocklovely · 8 months

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our girlfriend // sam and colby

A/N: it's my bday and i'm giving you guys a present... aren't i so nice lol i know it's been a LONG time since i posted any form of a fic, and i'm sorry about that. but hopefully this makes up for it a bit. if you squint hard enough, this could basically be a 'careful what you wish for' fic as well (but not really since the boys are just normal and not a demon or vampire). hope you enjoy and let me know what you think !

prompt: you and the boys always had your fun, but you never tried it in public. and now they want to. || fem!reader x sam and colby

trigger warning: SMUT, threesome (but no actual sex), no solby, you are sam and colby's girlfriend…. lucky you lmao, fingering, oral fixation/finger sucking, bossy!bf sam and colby, also very possessive, a wee bit of degradation, mentions of baby, darling, baby girl, love, good girl, slut, and it also takes place slightly in public (but away from everyone)

word count: 2003

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Guys, are you sure about this?" You questioned hurriedly as you rushed up the stairs.

Sam looked back at you, his voice loud over the thumping music of the party. "Yeah, c’mon Y/N. There’s no one up here."

"Probably for good reason." You grumbled.

"You’ve never been one to follow the rules. Don’t start now..." Colby smirked devilishly, his voice right by your ear as he passed you on the stairs.

Reaching the top and with each one of them holding a hand, Sam and Colby pulled you down the hallway. They stopped right outside a door tucked away from the stairs. If someone came up, they would see you. Your heart raced at the idea alone.

Colby leaned his back against the wall as you looked around the corner, glancing at the stairs nervously. He rolled his eyes, pulling you against him. "Baby, you have nothing to worry about. You're with us. When have we ever gotten caught?"

You glared up at him, annoyed. "You literally have a rap sheet that proves you don't know how to hide."

"Someone's feeling bratty tonight..." Sam joked playfully, leaning across from you and Colby.

You gazed at him over your shoulder, brows furrowed. "I'm just worried about someone finding out about us. God knows how the fans would react if they knew..."

Colby's finger lightly turned your chin so that you were looking at him. "Knew about what? That we both love to play with our girlfriend, and now we're trying it out in public?"

You stuttered, the lustful glint in Colby's eye making you blush. "Y-yes. Exactly that."

Colby pouted. "But I thought you loved when we both touched you."

"And tasted you..." Sam replied, sounding closer.

Colby leaned his face in, getting close to yours. "And fucked y-"

You cut him off, slapping his chest. "That's not the issue I have. It's the getting caught part. Or someone seeing us."

"But that's what's fun about this," Sam turned you around to face him, Colby's hands still resting low on your hips. "You're getting fucked as a party is being thrown downstairs in our honor. And if anyone tries to find us, they'll see us all up here... with you. So we gotta make sure we don't get caught."

"Especially since no one is allowed up here." You mentioned again.

"Well, we're allowed up here. No one else is." Colby informed.

Your face scrunched up, "I thought the owner said-"

"The owner can suck my dick. If I want to fuck my girlfriend in a house I'm renting out for a party, I'm gonna do it wherever I want to." Colby ranted.

"Excuse me." Sam raised an eyebrow, a light glare thrown at Colby.

"Right, my bad, Sam. Our girlfriend." Colby responded, smiling.

Sam sighed, "Much better."

"Speaking of...." Colby slid his hand under your skirt, pressing your damp panties against your swollen sex. "Our girlfriend is very wet."

You gasped, your body arching against Colby's. He exhaled as your ass grinded into his crotch. His breath was hot against your neck, raising goosebumps across your cool skin.

Sam's eyes danced up your body, studying it as Colby kneaded your clit slowly. Sam hummed when his gaze reached your face, his voice low, "What am I gonna do with you?"

"Kiss me." You shuddered, grabbing his shirt lightly and tugging him closer.

"She's so aggressive when she's needy." Colby chuckled darkly, applying pressure to his movements.

Sam nodded, leaning in and kissing you tenderly. You could barely breathe to begin with but having Sam's mouth on yours and Colby's fingers on your clit, you felt yourself get lightheaded. It was so overwhelming already, and they barely had done anything to you. God, or the devil himself, only knew what they had in store for you.

As Sam's tongue glided into your mouth, tangling with yours, Colby moved your panties out of the way and slid two fingers inside of you, pumping them at an achingly slow pace. Your breath hitched, a moan falling from your lips. Lucky for you, it was muffled by Sam's mouth.

"What did we say, baby girl? You can’t be too loud. And we know how loud you can get." Sam teased.

"Even with the music playing, they would be able to hear her." Colby sneered jokingly.

"Is that what you want? To get caught? To have all of our friends know you're being fucked by us? That you're needy for us?" Sam grunted, his lips brushing yours as he spoke.

"I think that's what she wants. She loves to pretend to be such a good girl, but in reality, she's bad." Colby snickered into your ear quietly. "She's a little slut for us."

"Our slutty little girlfriend who can't stop herself from moaning when we touch her." Sam closed the space between you two, gripping your chin so that your eyes were looking into his piercing blues. "You're so pathetic and horny, aren't you?"

You shook your head, a whimper falling from your lips as Colby slid another finger in. You bit your lip hard to not make a noise, knowing it wasn't doing much to help.

"We might have to cover her mouth, since she can't listen." Colby hissed mischievously, biting your neck softly.

"I know the perfect way to do that." Sam placed the tips of his index and middle finger against your lips, "Open." Your lips fell open instantly, and he snaked them in, resting them against your tongue. "Suck."

You immediately started sucking his fingers, whining around them and bobbing your head up and down. Sam growled lowly at the sensation of you sucking off his fingers. He pushed himself closer to you, sandwiching you in between him and Colby completely. You couldn't have escaped their hold if you wanted it, and you definitely didn't want to.

"Her mouth feels amazing, Colby. You'll have to give it a try soon." Sam closed his tightly, focusing on the feeling.

"I remember how good she feels, trust me." Colby leaned down, pressing his lips to your ear, "You always need something in your mouth, don't you darling? You can't help but want to suck on something. On one of us."

Colby's fingers sped up, a groan deep within your throat rocketed out, stifled by Sam's fingers. You kept grinding your ass against Colby, who now was hard in his leather pants. He followed your movements, his hips pressing hard into you. Your hand gripped his wrist, clinging onto the hand that was fucking you. Your other hand held Sam close as your nails dug into his back.

"Are you getting close, baby girl? Do you want to come?" Sam barked.

You mewled, nodding your head desperately. Sam tsked, leaning his forehead against yours. "Not yet, baby. I think you need a bit more help."

His other hand drifted down, stopping right above your clit. He teased you for a moment, the tip of his finger brushing across it ever so gently. Your body shook and both boys laughed.

Colby feigned concern. "Aw Sam, c’mon now. You gotta be nice to her. She's not gonna make it."

"I guess we traded places this time, since you're the one that's always so mean to her." Sam quipped sassily.

Colby faux gasped, "Me? Being mean?" He leaned into your ear, whispering, "I'm not mean, am I love? You like when I treat you rough. I know you do, sweetheart."

You closed your eyes tight, trying to hold yourself back from exploding. Both of their motions were all too much for you, but you didn't want it to end just yet. You needed it to keep going. You just loved being theirs.

Sam pushed his lower half into his hand that was rubbing your clit, both boys now grinding against you. Their cocks were hard, and they were touching you in all the right places; you could feel your orgasm building up to its breaking point. You needed them to say you could let go. You weren't sure how much longer you could last.

"Feel how hard you've made us, baby girl. You want us inside of you? Wanna get filled up by us?" Sam rasped.

You whined and nodded mindlessly. You couldn't even form words if you want to.

"She's squeezing my fingers so tight. God, I can't wait to taste you, Y/N. You're getting so close..." Colby panted. "Maybe we should let her come."

"Only if she deserves it. Do you, baby? Do you deserve to come? Have you been good for us?" Sam taunted, staring into your eyes.

You moaned around his fingers in agreement, shaking your head again.

Sam bit his lip, glancing at Colby for a moment. "She has been following our demands very well. She made me hard just by sucking my fingers."

"You've been such a needy, good girl for us, haven't you? You take our fingers so well. Do you wanna come? Say you want to." Colby lowered his voice, "Use your words, love."

You choked around Sam's fingers, a 'I wanna come' mumbled through his digits.

Colby harshly snapped in your ear, "Who owns this cunt, darling?"

You grunted out a 'You do', eyes pleading with Sam to say you could let go.

Sam smirked, an almost evil glint in his eye. "I think she can come now. What about you, Colby?"

Colby paused, his fingers still moving at their fast pace. Your body was hot, sweat dripping down your back. Your face was flushed, and you felt like you couldn't breathe as you waited for Colby to say the magic phrase.

He kissed right under your ear sweetly, his lips then pressed against you. "Come for us, baby."

You cried out around their fingers, your body spasming in ecstasy. Sam finger fucked your mouth, making sure your screams weren't heard over the music as he sped up his fingers on your clit. Colby kept the pace as you exploded around him, your juices running down your thighs. He cooed in your ear, speaking softly that you were a good girl, a good slut for them, and that you were so beautiful when you come.

Your pleasure slowly subsided, Sam and Colby resting against you and their motions still. They breathed with you, kissing along your neck and face as you relaxed.

You were about to say something when all three of you could hear someone walking up the stairs. Sam backed up, removing his hands from your mouth and clit. Colby spun you both around, facing the person coming up the stairs. It was a scramble to make sure you looked okay, and you weren't even sure if you did.

A tall man in an all-black suit, one of the security guards, looked down the hallway at you all. "Excuse me, you can't be up here."

"Uh, sorry about that. My girlfriend wasn't feeling too well and the line for the bathroom was kinda long so we figured she could come up here and use this one." Colby smiled, placing you in front of him to cover up his hard on.

"Are you feeling better now, miss?" The man asked, looking at you.

Sam cut you off, thankfully; since you weren't sure if you could even speak yet. He cupped his hands in front of his body, trying to cover himself up. "Yeah, she's good. We'll make sure she feels better later tonight, though. Just to be safe."

You glanced at Sam, and he gave you a little wink.

"Please follow me back downstairs to the party." The man stated.

You trudged down the hall towards the man, Sam and Colby following close behind. Once the man turned around, you could hear Sam smack Colby's arm, saying 'She's our girlfriend' to him. They bickered back and forth until you got to the bottom of the stairs.

Colby smacked your ass playfully, his voice loud enough for only you to hear, "Don’t go too far, Y/N. We're not done with you yet."

#sam and colby #sam and colby fanfiction #sam and colby fanfic #sam and colby fic #sam and colby smut #sam golbach fanfiction #sam golbach fanfic #sam golbach smut #sam golbach fic #colby brock fanfiction #colby brock fanfic #colby brock fic #colby brock smut #sam and colby x reader #sam golbach #colby brock

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donatellawritings · 1 month

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hiii mamita!! first off i wanna say i love ur writing and characterization SO MUCH!! ur my absolute fav latina representation in this fandom and im sending u sososo much love <3 secondly, could we pretty pls have rafe w latina reader who’s constantly using spanish around him and he eventually understands her enough to get some things but doesn’t say anything until she says something slick one day under her breath and he calls her out so she’s like oops🫢🫢🤭

tysm for the kind words, angel <3

this is so bff!rafe coded …

rafe was an obsessively busy man — the poor guy just had to keep himself occupied, or he’d find himself slipping off into the deep end. so, he never actually took the time to learn spanish, but he had a pretty basic understanding of the language, solely thanks to the fact that he spent most, if not, all of his free time around you, listening to your jumbled rants. and it was clear to him which words were profane and insulting, by the way you’d huff and roll your eyes whenever they rolled off of your tongue.

you see, rafe was fully aware of your bitchy side and how your sweet and delicate demeanor could quickly flip into a bratty and entitled state, especially when you didn’t get what you want — which just so happened to be your current dilemma with rafe.

it was simple — you wanted to soak up some sun in your brand new frankie’s bikinis two-piece, while your bossy best friend, rafe was adamant about going to the country club to catch up with topper and kelce, over a glass of whiskey.

lifting your miu miu sunglasses to sit atop of your shiny blown out hair, you leaned your head back against the cushion of your lounger, the sun deliciously biting your bronze skin, “pendejo,” you mumbled, rolling your bambi eyes as rafe began to walk away from where you reclined.

stopping dead in his tracks, rafe cocks his buzzed head to the side, lips parted and eyebrows furrowed, “the fuck did y’just say to me?” he spoke, his voice low as he approaches you with quick and long strides, before yanking you up to your feet by your elbow.

with pouted lips, you kept your eyes away from rafe’s, “i didn’t say anyth—”

letting out an unamused chuckle, rafe grabs your jaw, forcing your gaze to meet his, “y’lucky i don’t break y’fuckin jaw,” he warns, harshly releasing your face from his tight grip as he watches your eyes well with tears, “don’t start that cryin’ shit — fuckin’ kid,” he spits, balling his fists at his side for a brief moment, before opening his hands, muttering under his breath as he walks away from you.

furiously knuckling away the tears that threatened to spill down your flushed cheeks, you keep your head down, a wobbly pout on your swollen lips.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

rafe didn’t go to the country club that afternoon. and you sat by the pool for about an hour, mindlessly splashing your french pedicured feet in the light blue pool water — you hated when rafe was upset, more so when you were the reason for his anger. but, you also knew how volatile and impulsive the son of ward could become, so you decided to wait it out for as long as you could.

rising to your feet, wet footprints stained the pavement as you padded towards the door, you eyes sparkling with shock as rafe walked through the door, “what are y’still doin’ here?” he questions blankly, monotone and all as he brushes past you, shoulders tense and jaw locked.

ignoring the way your tummy swirled and churned with disappointment, you exhaled sharply through your button nose, deciding to force yourself to be unfazed by rafe’s harsh words, “i don’t like when you’re mad at me,” you whine, dragging yourself where rafe sat, legs spread and a sweaty bottle of cold beer in hand.

taking a quick swig of the beer, rafe shrugs, “and i don’t like when y’get a smart fuckin’ mouth with me, just because y’wanna be a spoiled fuckin’ kid,” he counters sharply, setting the beer down beside his foot.

you really pissed him off.

nodding your head, you quietly brought yourself to straddle your best friend’s hips, noticing the way he licked over his lips, before pressing them into a tight line, “can i give you a besito? i’m really sorry, rafey,” you sighed, batting your cutesy lashes as your softly brought your nails to scratch at rafe’s abdomen.

remaining silent, rafe earned a playful eye roll from you as you leaned your tits into his chest, pressing your full lips into his structured cheek with quick pecks, “i - mwah - am - mwah - sorry - mwah - papito,” you giggled between kisses, sealing your apologies with a stolen kiss to rafe’s lips.

craning his neck back to get a better look at you, your skin all bronzy and dewy from your earlier suntan, rafe raises his eyebrows, “papito? that’s a new one,” he comments, raising a hand to rest on your the sweaty skin of your lower back.

with wide doe eyes and parted lips, you gasp, “you like it?!”

letting out a defeated sigh, rafe pulls you in by the back of your neck to press a kiss to the top of your warm hair, “yeah, s’cute, kid.”

#asks #anon #obx #rafe cameron #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron prompt #rafe cameron x reader #obx imagine #rafe cameron smut #rafe x reader #bff!rafe

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chaconnehoonie · 1 month

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Hide the Scissors- S. JY

✄ Jake X Fem! Reader

Synopsis: Your boyfriend is a sucker for compliments, which you take for advantage.

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: pussy muncher Jake, reader is wearing a skirt, reader calls him Jake and Jae.

Smut warnings: Oral(f), dry humping, nasty make out sesh, Jake is pussy drunk, hair pulling, no specific dom/sub, I apologize for anything I forgot.

A/N: I’ve had this started since the beginning of the week when he did this live,, I just took long to post it. Enjoy!

This is fiction and the scenarios are completely fake and from my brain, none of the characters are like this in real life, MDNI!

“I know you like it long, babe, but it’s poking me in the eyes. You have to cut it for me.”

Your heart feels as if it’s been stabbed and shattered as your boyfriend sits with his back to your stomach, locking eyes with you through the bathroom mirror while he sits on a stool. You drape a towel over his shoulders with a pout on your lips, obviously unhappy with the idea of cutting his hair. “You’re breaking my heart, Jae.”

He only laughs at your dramatic attempts to change his mind. Realizing you have failed, you give in and finally open the bathroom cabinet to grab the styling scissors with a deep exhaled sigh. “I’m just saying, you look so good with longer hair.” You notice Jake pause for a moment as a light blush makes its way to his cheeks while the tips of his ears burn red.

“You think so?” His eyes meet yours in the mirror and you flash him a sweet smile. “Of course, handsome.” You don’t break eye contact as you lean down to kiss the spot right under his ear, trailing more kisses down the expanse of his neck. “You look so sexy.” You whisper in his ear and watch how he immediately stiffens.

“Love how it suits your features so well.” He blushes deeper at this compliment. “Love the way it shapes your face.” You peck him on his cheek. “Love the way it’s so full and fluffy.” You run a hand through the long hair on the back of his head. “But you know what I love about it the most?” You meet his gaze in the mirror again and he lets out a hum in response.

“Love the way you whine when I pull on it.” With that, your grip on his hair pulls his head to fall back, with him looking up at you for a second before you’re leaning down to kiss him. He always expresses his love for kissing upside down, his inner fanboy showing as he would rant about it reminding him of Spider-Man.

You tug at his hair harder and his lips fall open as he whines into your own. You take this chance to slip your tongue into his mouth and he eagerly reciprocates the action. He loves how the odd angle lets him feel the way the mix of saliva easily slides down his throat as the kiss grows sloppier. You pull back from his lips with an obnoxious smack and smile at the way his eyes are already low and dazed.

He swallows harshly as he lets his gaze fall back to your mouth. You can’t help but peck his pillowy lips again. “Fine.” He whispers almost shyly. “Fine?” You repeat with a sly smile. “Yeah…fine. You don’t have to cut my hair.” He blinks at you with big puppy eyes, almost begging for your reaction.

“Why the sudden change of heart, baby?” You quirk a brow in question as he tugs the towel off of his shoulders and stands to his feet, turning to face you. “I like when you pull on it too.” He grabs your waist and harshly presses his lips against yours again, both of his hands sliding down to grab handfuls of your butt.

You gasp when he squeezes harshly, and he slips his tongue into your mouth the way you had done it earlier. He kneads the fat of your butt, groping and massaging anything he could fit into his hands. You instinctively push yourself further into him and you don’t miss the way he’s rock hard against you.

“Jump.” He commands against your parted lips, tapping the back of your thighs. You hop into his arms, wrapping your own around his neck to play with his hair. He turns around again, this time placing you onto the large bathroom sink with your back pressed against the mirror.

You feel him tug your lower half towards himself, standing between your open legs. He leans back down to kiss you again, this time with one hand around the back of your neck and the other softly rubbing your thigh. “Want you to show me how much you love my hair.” He grinds himself into your core and grunts into your neck after he speaks, then bites his bottom lip harshly to keep himself from whining into your ear.

The feeling of his hot break against your neck has you pulling him closer by the hips, but he’s quick to pull your hands away. He takes them both in one of his larger hands, pinning them to the mirror above your head. His other hand is pushing your skirt further up your waist and he smiles at the wet spot on your panties.

You grind against nothing, pushing your hips forward with a whine when he takes too long staring between your legs. “God, you’re so fucking needy.” He lightly slaps your core, smiling at the wet sound that follows. “You’re one to talk.” You spit out, almost annoyed that he’s taking so long to touch you.

He doesn’t find any purpose in arguing back, instead being proud of not only himself but of you also. “Of course.” He lowers himself to have his salivating mouth just above where you need him. “Who wouldn’t be needy for this cunt.” He almost cuts himself off, too eager to taste you as he licks you over your panties, tongue starting at your entrance but stopping just before your clit.

You whine and push your hips forward again, this time yelping as he suddenly attaches his lips to your soaking underwear, sucking your slick out of the wet fabric. “Please, Jake. I need more.” Your hands are still being painfully restricted against the mirror, Jake’s own hand not budging no matter how much yours thrash in his hold.

He finally rips your panties off and you gasp at the sound of them tearing. “Jake!” You look at him with wide eyes and he grabs your cheeks, squeezing them so your lips become pouty. “Do you want it or not?” He’s speaking close enough to you that you feel his hot breath on your inner thighs, but not close enough for it to please you. “Yes! Yes, stop being a brat.” You nod your head aggressively, pushing your hips against his face again.

Your insult ignites something inside of him, and he’s suddenly leaning back down to harshly suck on your clit. “A-ah!” You yelp in surprise, thrashing your arms against the mirror in frustration. He finally lets go of your hands, leading them to his hair as he’s pulling off of your clit to speak in your ear.

“Show me how much you like my hair, baby.” He dives into your core again, slurping loudly at the dripping arousal. You throw your head back against the mirror in a loud moan, harshly gripping at Jake’s hair which elicits a whine escape his throat. He looks up at you with low, fucked out eyes and he moans as if he’s the one being pleasured.

His tongue laps at your entrance a few times before licking a long stripe up your slit, taking your clit between his lips and sucking gently, unlike the first time. “Fuck, Jae. T-tongue.” Without hesitating, he sticks his tongue out at your stuttered command and you grab handfuls of his thick hair, keeping his head stable as you grind yourself onto his wet muscle.

The bathroom walls send echos of each moan, slurp, and whine the both of you let out, and you wondered if you were loud enough for the neighbors to hear. You want the neighbors to hear, and you want them to know who you’re whining and crying for, loving the idea of showing off how good your boyfriend treats you.

“Baby-baby, holy shit.” You’re borderline screaming at this point as Jake watches you with big, glossy puppy eyes, and the sight of him is enough to bring you to your orgasm. “Fuckfuckfuck, Jake!” You inhale deeply before letting out the most loud and obnoxious pornographic-sounding moan while your orgasm sends tingles throughout your whole body, strongly throbbing in your core.

You keep a tight grip on your boyfriend’s hair, pulling it harshly as you continue to rock your hips against his tongue, and he whimpers at the feeling of you continuing to use him for your own pleasure. He loves letting you take control, like you’re almost ignoring the fact that he’s another human being but only using him as a toy to get yourself off with.

His hair is finally released from your fingers when they come to support you on the sides of your body, keeping your trembling body upright on the bathroom sink. He goes back to standing normal for a second, then leans forward to kiss you with his mouth covered in your juices. He places one hand over yours on the counter, stroking your skin as a sign of comfort, while the other hand holds your face and pulls your forehead to touch his.

“God, look at you.” He softly nudges your face to turn around and take a look at yourself in the mirror behind you. Your eyes are hazy and your hair is slightly tangled in the back, and you hadn’t even realized you were drooling until you seen the streak from your lip sliding down your chin. Your eyes travel to look at Jake, heart melting when you see just how adorable he appears. “God, look at you, Jae.”

The whole lower half of his face, including his cheeks, are covered in arousal, shining especially bright on the tip of his prominent nose. His cheeks and nose are also flushed with a deep blush, maybe from the sexual encounter, maybe from his lack of breathing during said encounter. His own hair is messier than yours, with his bangs falling Infront of his eyes, frizzy strands standing up everywhere, and the long hairs in the back look as if he woke up from a nap or was electrocuted.

“Holy-“ Jake cuts himself off as he starts giggling cutely, leaning against the counter and trying his best to fix his appearance. You join in on giggling with him and fixing yourself up, admiring the way he switches from a pussy-starved fiend to a sweet mess of toothy smiles and giggles. Your boyfriend may be secretly desperate for a mouth full of woman, but that’s just how you like it. He licks his palm and tries his best to slick down his disheveled hair, but your fingers had done too much damage and he now resembles a raccoon that had been struck by lightning.

“Guess you really do love my hair, huh?”

#enhypen smut #enhypen x female reader #jake sim smut #sim jaeyun smut #enhypen drabbles

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siriuslovebot · 10 months

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˖ ࣪⭑˖ ࣪𝒔𝒎𝒐𝒌𝒆 𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒘 ➸ 𝒋𝒂𝒎𝒆𝒔 𝒑𝒐𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓˖ ࣪⭑ ˖ ࣪

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 𝑨𝑵𝑶𝑵𝒀𝑴𝑶𝑼𝑺 𝑨𝑺𝑲𝑬𝑫: hiya i was wondering if you could do a rough smut with james potter where reader gets turned on by him blowing cig smoke into her mouth at a party or something, and he’s all like cocky about it??? thank you for considering this.

𝑾𝑨𝑹𝑵𝑰𝑵𝑮𝑺: smut (18+, minors dni!), smoking, mentions of alcohol, oral (f!receiving), slight oral fixation, unprotected sex, rough sex, semi-public sex, cocky!james, some condescending dialogue, teasing, dirty talk.

𝑺𝑼𝑴𝑴𝑨𝑹𝒀: the reader is infatuated with her boyfriend, james potter. she can’t help but get distracted when admiring him at a party.

𝑨/𝑵: hi, anon! thank you for your request! i hope i’ve done it justice here. i don’t have a ton of experience writing rough smut, but i tried my best here. james is such a big softie to me but it was fun writing him a little differently. this is unedited so apologies for any mistakes, and i hope you enjoy!

𝑾𝑶𝑹𝑫 𝑪𝑶𝑼𝑵𝑻: 3.4k 𓂃♡₊⭑

·͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺

james potter is going to be the death of you.

he’s been bad enough these last few weeks since you’ve become “official,” strutting around bragging about how he’s somehow snagged the fittest girl around. the disgusted looks on remus and sirius’s faces are enough to send a flush blooming across your features, not to mention the endless teasing from sirius as he does his dramatic impression of james fawning over you. worse, though, is the fact that you’re equally as obsessed with him. you had a bumbling crush on him throughout all of your years at hogwarts; his confidence and extroverted personality always attracted you to him, and despite his vaguely arrogant air, he was quite kind to you.

thus, when he asked you on a date after running into you at the leaky cauldron on order business, you reluctantly said yes. the result was quickly turning into the marauder’s worst nightmare: remus and sirius were getting fed up with your constant pda, baby-talking each other when you’re sure you won’t be overheard and snogging at the most inconvenient of times. it wasn’t uncommon to get an exasperated comment from sirius along the lines of, “we’re at war for merlin’s sake, can’t you two give it a rest for five minutes?” to which you would flush and james would make an obscene gesture.

currently, you’re curled up on a couch in lily’s flat, listening half-heartedly as she recounts the story of an awful date she recently went on. there’s a drink clasped in your hand, all but forgotten as you divide your attention between lily and the distracting sight of your boyfriend standing with frank and remus in the kitchen. he’s got a cigarette perched between his lips, soft smile decorating his features as he listens attentively to the story that remus is telling. your mouth goes dry as you watch him take a long drag of the cigarette, smoke puffing through his pillowy lips as he exhales. he’s got something of an oral fixation, you’ve discovered; he’s always got something occupying that pretty mouth, whether it be words, a cigarette, chewing gum, your fingers, your mouth... he keeps himself entertained, and you get the added benefits of admiring him as he does just that.

on nights like these, however, it can be a real inconvenience. you shift in your seat, legs pressing together as you force yourself to wrench your needy gaze away from the sight of him. you can’t help the want warming your lower body, your stomach fluttering at the thought of getting him alone to let him indulge his fixation.

“....so i told him i’d rather drink bubotuber pus than go on another bleeding date with him, and now he’s run around telling everyone how horrible i am.” you catch the tail-end of lily’s rant, laughing along with alice and marlene. you take a sip of your drink, still unable to control your wandering eyes.

sirius slinks back into the kitchen, returning from the washroom to grab himself another drink. he noticed you staring at james like a puppy in heat as he returned, feeling a smidge squeamish at the look in your eyes. he nudges james as he settles back into the conversation, a fresh drink in his hand.

“bit oblivious, are you, mate?” sirius wonders, making a questioning face. he nods towards you on the couch, where you swallow the lump in your throat as you force yourself to look back at lily. “your girl’s staring a fuckin’ hole through you.”

james turns, his tall frame blocking some of the light spilling in from the kitchen. he notices the hot-and-bothered look on your face as you force yourself to listen to lily. you shift, hips moving of their own accord as you attempt to get comfortable and ignore the aching between your legs. your features are flushed with color. you push the hair off of your neck, suddenly feeling as if you need to get some air before you burn up.

you finish your drink, and absentmindedly place the glass on the coffee table in front of you. you manage a response to lily’s question, before your eyes are flicking back over to the kitchen. you blink as you realize james is now returning the attention, and your stomach drops. there’s a questioning glint in his eyes and he nods towards the balcony just behind you through the door in the sitting room.

you stand, legs feeling insecure.

“excuse me,” you mutter, brushing a hand down over your dress. “gonna have a smoke with james.”

“didn’t know you smoked,” alice’s soft voice trails as you exit the room.

you take a deep breath as you step outside. the cool evening air does wonders in calming your heart rate, although the heat between your legs is only worsening as you wait for james to join you. there’s a sickening moment where you wonder if you’d misread his intentions, before the glass door opens and he’s standing before you.

“hi, baby,” he says simply, voice soft as the door shuts behind him. you take him in, finally free to stare unabashedly. his dark curls are mussed, warm eyes obscured by smudged glasses, his lips chapped from puffing on his cigarette.

“hi,” you manage, a bit breathless. now that you’ve got him out here, all to yourself, you feel a bit in-over-your-head. he’s got a way of making you nervous, especially when he’s got this familiar smug look plastered on his handsome face.

“you okay?” he’s lighting another cigarette. his hand cups around the flame of his lighter, long fingers shielding it from the light breeze. you chew on your bottom lip, your mind conjuring up the image of his hands exactly where you’d like them. making you squirm and writhe and cry for him. you’re distracted still, the sight of his fingers bringing the cigarette to his lips. his mouth curling around it, sucking in the smoke.

“y/n, baby,” he breathes out, his head dipping down as his free hand reaches for you. his fingers cup your chin, lifting your eyes to his. his thumb ghosts over the corner of your lips. you meet his gaze, your eyes glassy as you daydream about him touching you all over. it’s almost frightening, this love-drunk effect he causes. even his grasp on your face is not enough to pull you away from your little fantasy.

“hmmm?” you hum, unable to find your words.

his narrows his eyes at you, tilting your face to either side as he examines you. “have you had too much to drink?” he wonders.

“no,” you shake your head, conscious enough to offer the one syllable response. he follows your gaze to the cigarette, flicking ash off of the end.

“y’want a smoke?” he offers it to you.

“want you,” you breathe. you lift your hand, grasping him around the wrist that’s holding your face in place. the desperation you feel is more extreme than it ever has been in the past; something about the clueless look on his face, the smoke, his wild hair haloed around his head, the atmosphere of the party. his presence is torturing you.

he laughs softly, taking another drag of the cigarette. there’s a fluttering sensation between your legs as his tongue darts out to wet his lips.

“kiss me,” you request, nuzzling into his hand. there’s a satisfied smile on his face as he leans down into you, slotting your mouths together. he tastes like cigarette smoke and an undertone of cinnamon gum. you latch onto him, fingers twisting into the tight curls at the nape of his neck. he breathes the smoke out into your mouth, the nicotine buzz worsening the dizziness from having his hands on you.

he flicks the cigarette nub away. now freed, his arm encircles your waist, his palm sliding down to your lower back. his grip tightens, holding you against his body as he tucks his knee between your legs. you whine at the contact, the fabric of his trousers grazing your thinly clothed center. this sends your core throbbing, though it does little to distract you from his tongue licking into your mouth.

an obscene noise breaks the quiet air as he pulls away from you. your lips are swollen, glistening with saliva as you stare up at him with your biggest eyes. he looks more than smug, he looks cockier than you’ve ever seen him. even after his quidditch victories back in school, he never had the proud gleam in his eyes that you’re witnessing now.

“poor baby,” he says, the almost-mocking tone to his voice sending a renewed throb down to your center. “so eager just for my mouth on you, aren’t you?”

you whine, hands fisting the fabric of his sleeves as you hold onto him. you’re too turned on to be embarrassed, even as he coos at you in his condescending tone. “jamie…”

“so needy you couldn’t keep your eyes off me. poor pads had to watch you eye-fucking me from across the room.” his head dips down, nose grazing the sensitive skin of your neck. he drags his lips against the skin softly, tongue darting out periodically to taste your skin. he breathes you in, relishing in the smell of your perfume and the tang of your sweat.

“stop teasing,” you complain. he just barely presses his thigh closer to you, notched between your legs. a hiss tumbles from your lips.

“why would i stop when you’re enjoying it so much?” he wonders. you feel the smirk against your neck, and you curse him in your mind. “so wet you’re soaking me through my trousers. you’d like me to take you right here, wouldn’t you, sweets?”

“yes,” you breathe. you’re practically clawing at him, rolling your hips for the slightest bit of friction on your clit. you think you could likely come just from the sight of him kneeling in front of you, not even touching you.

“oh, but we mustn’t…” he continues. “see, you’ve already been rude to lily all night, ignoring her whilst you’re thinking of my mouth doing dirty things to you. it’d be criminal to defile her balcony, don’t you agree?”

“i–” you gasp at the feeling of his thigh flexing, the toned muscle rutting into your clit as he uses his hands to drag you along his leg. “i–fuck, james, i don’t care.”

he chuckles darkly at this, then stops for a second to suck a dark mark into your skin. your head is thrown back, your eyes catching sight of the stars floating in the sky. they’re swimming, your gaze glassy with need for your boyfriend. it’s a wonder no one’s spotted you through the door. luckily it’s very dark outside, and the light spilling out onto the balcony from inside is too faint to illuminate the vulgar sight of you grinding against james.

“come,” he directs you away from the door, pressing you against a shadowed wall on the other end of the balcony. you never realize just how tall he is until he has you cornered, his body holding yours in place. his fingers play with the ends of your hair as he looks down at you, admiring your hazy expression. “gonna be good f’me, right, baby?”

“yes,” you nod eagerly. “anything y’want, jamie.”

“good,” he brushes the back of his hand over your cheek. then he’s dragging the fabric of your dress up your hips, hooking his fingers through the waistline of your panties. “gotta be quiet, hmmm? don’t want anyone hearing, do we?”

you nod in agreement. your lip is tucked between your teeth, your eyes frenzied as you anticipate his next movements. james wastes no time, dropping to his knees. he’s eye-level with your dripping cunt, using one hand to spread your lips apart as the other comes up to touch you.

a mewl spills from your mouth, one of your hands falling down to card through his curls. he smirks, placing a sweet kiss against your inner thigh. he spreads your slick around with two fingers, the dirty squelching noise like music to his ears.

“what did i say?” he asks you, peering up at you through thick lashes. he massages your clit softly, waiting for an answer.

“gotta be quiet,” you respond. your voice is choked up at the sight of him looking so devilishly handsome between your legs.

“that’s right,” there’s a split second of lost contact before his hand comes back with a sharp slap against your clit. it’s unexpected, and you bite down on your tongue as a muffled squeal leaves your mouth. “don’t want me to have to use a silencing charm on you, baby.”

“‘m sorry, james,” you say. you bring a hand to your mouth, hoping to use it to muffle your noises. “please, i’ll be quiet.”

without warning, he plunges two of his fingers into your sopping hole. your entire body tenses, your back lifting away from the brick wall as you arch into his touch. his teeth drag up your thigh, nipping softly before he turns his full attention to your pussy. he flattens his tongue and drags it from just above his fingers to your clit, swirling around the sensitive nub.

tears prick your eyes, the feeling overwhelming after not being touched all night. you bite onto your fist, swallowing down the vulgar noises that desperately need to escape your body. you have a tight grip in his curls, pulling the hairs more aggressively than intended. this eggs him on, soliciting a powerful curl of his fingers inside of you. they rut into your g-spot, exacerbating the pressure that builds in your lower stomach.

you want to scream, need to scream so bad that you’re crying over him. silent tears roll down your cheeks, ruining your makeup as james continues his merciless attack on your cunt. his full lips are attached to your clit, sucking and licking and humming against the bud. you tremble, the muscles in your abdomen and thighs clenching from the effort of holding yourself up while trying not to cum too fast.

a miniscule cry manages to break through despite your best efforts. james’s mouth releases from your clit with a slick pop, and he eyes you carefully. his warm eyes are considerably darker, clouded with lust. “thought you were gonna come like this, did you?” he says, his voice almost mean. you’ve never had him like this, teasing and condescending and demanding. it’s driving you crazy, this new, rougher side of him.

“please, james,” you whisper, trying your hardest not to make another noise. “i–i’m sorry i made noise. just want your mouth, please…”

he grins, his parted lips finding your clit again. his teeth graze the nub, and a jolt of electricity goes through your entire body. “like this?” he muses, nibbling gently on the collection of nerves. it takes everything inside of you not to scream like a banshee, the new sensation sending fluids dripping down over his hand and wrist.

“gonna come, then?” he asks, raising an eyebrow. his lips are no longer attached to your clit, but his fingers thrust roughly into your weeping hole. “can you come like this? come just for my fingers, baby?”

“james i–please, i can’t,” you whine, eyes rolling back in your head.

“oh, but you’re feeling so good for me,” he says, dragging his fingers along your walls deliciously. the pressure is building, slower inside your stomach. but you need his mouth on you, need him sucking your clit in order to come. you need the fireworks that his experienced tongue coaxes out of your body. you need the full body, cloud nine sensation of him eating you out.

“fuck can you just eat me out, please?” you plead, voice more demanding this time.

this takes him off guard, the rhythm of his fingers stuttering for half a second before he’s drilling them into you with more aggression. he gives you no warning before his mouth is on you again, devouring you with every ounce of energy he has. your vision begins to blank, mouth hanging open in a silent scream as he wrecks your pussy with his fingers and tongue. you can’t make a single sound, can’t even think of anything except the overwhelming bliss between your legs. he eats you through your orgasm, overstimulating your clit as he removes his fingers from inside of you.

“james–”

“shut up,” he hisses, standing once the waves of your orgasm have diminished. he grabs you by the hips, spinning you around so you’re pressed against the wall. the brick digs into your skin slightly, your hands splayed on the wall as he pushes you into it. his hands fall from your hips to between your legs, spreading you for his access.

“‘m sorry, i–i didn’t mean to–”

but he’s not listening. you feel the tip of his cock prod your hole for half a second before he’s buried to the hilt in your slick. there’s a split second where he’s still inside of you, fumbling with his wand as he easily cast an imperturbable charm on the glass door leading inside.

“‘m gonna make you scream,” he promises, grasping your hips and hitching them back towards him. the position deepens the angle of his cock inside of you, and you cry out as he begins pistoning in and out of you.

still sensitive from your previous orgasm, your mind goes foggy from the feeling of him abusing your cunt. his pace is relentless, the head of his cock barreling into your g-spot with enough force that you’re struggling to even hold yourself up. his fingertips dig into the flesh of your hips, bruising the soft skin. there are tiny crescent moon fingernail marks, possibly a prick of blood from the harsh grip he has on you.

“fuck, it hurts so good,” you cry, lacing your fingers with his and holding on for dear life.

“you like when i hurt your little pussy, huh baby? like my cock tearing you apart?” he presses his lips to the soft spot where your shoulder and your neck meet. he’s panting in your ear, groaning as your walls clench tight around him. you’re getting close to your second orgasm already, your thighs quivering and arousal soaking down your legs.

“i love it, love you inside of me,” you respond, unable to think. your voice is barely audible over the wet slapping noises of his hips slamming into your bare ass. the sound of skin on skin coupled with his throaty noises is driving you closer to the edge.

this new, rougher side of james has your insides fluttering around him. you squeal in delight as one of his hands brings your wrists together behind you, holding you in place. the brick wall bites into the skin of your cheek, but you hardly notice as his other hand aims a sharp slap against your ass. he grunts at the sight of his handprint appearing on your skin, making his cock throb inside of you. another slap rings through the air, and you cry out. you tighten around him, closer and closer to orgasming by the second.

“james–” you breath, chest heaving, “‘m gonna come. i can’t hold it any longer.”

“come on, baby,” he encourages, maintaining his pace inside of you. “cry for me while you come, baby. wan’ the whole world to know i’m fucking you.”

you do just that, your entire body collapsing between him and the wall as your second orgasm washes over you. you’re mewling his name into the night, begging him not to stop. you hear his cocky chuckle over your shoulder, followed by a low groan from his chest. his hips slow, hot spurts of release spraying your insides as he reaches his own orgasm.

“fuck, y/n,” he breathes, feeling you clench around him as he fills you up. “m’good girl, aren’t you?” he praises. he rocks into you a few final times, fucking his cum deeper as he sweeps your hair off of your neck.

you sigh as he pulls out of you, helping you back into your panties. you hope they’re enough to keep the cum contained inside of you until you’re able to clean up. james helps you straighten your dress out, pecking you on the lips. with a wave of his wand, the smeared makeup all over your face is put right, and there’s very little evidence of your relations.

“thank you,” you breathe, leaning into him as you try and catch your bearings. “i love you,” you mutter, closing your eyes.

“i love you, sweets,” he kisses your temple, wrapping an arm around your shoulders as he leads you back inside, having lifted his imperturbable charm.

your return goes virtually unnoticed, as lily and marlene are refilling drinks in the kitchen while sirius recounts a story from his childhood. you return to the sitting room, sinking onto the sofa beside alice. she eyes you for a second, then says, “smoked the whole pack, did you?”

#james potter #james potter x reader #james potter smut #james potter fic #james potter x reader smut #marauders era #marauders fic #marauders fanfiction #marauders smut #marauders era fic #smut #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter #slb.works #from the queue

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emmyrosee · 9 months

Text

“I need you to know how unbelievably pissed I am at you.”

You interrupt the peaceful folding and stocking of your clothes at your in-laws house with your threat. Immediately, Shoyo tenses up and whips his head to look at you, eyes wide and dancing over your face, waiting for you to continue your rant and fury.

When you don’t, merely continuing to glare at him, he gives a frantic, “what did I do!”

“Lower. Your damn. Voice,” you grit, and his hands clap over his mouth childishly. You take a deep inhale to calm down, “you told, your sweet and old parents…”

He looks at you expectantly again. You flare your nostrils and hike up your voice in an obnoxious nasal:

“We’re huuuuungry!”

Instantly, at your mocking tone, he breaks down into laughter, trying to stifle them to keep your anger at bay.

“So embarrassing!” You snip.

“Baby, we were! They don’t mind, you know that-“

“THEY STARTED COOKING! FOR US!”

“You know they’d rather eat with us than have us go out to eat!”

“Shoyo,” you snarl, rising to your feet and approaching him; with nervous laughter, he shrinks back. “It is eigHT IN THE EVENING, AND YOUR MOTHER IS MAKING NIKUJAGA!” You grab a pillow and start whacking him with it, ignoring his pleas and sheltering arms. “For the love of the gods, she should be relaxing!”

“She’s fine!”

You stop swinging and look down at him in shock. He makes a grab for the pillow and you whip it away, and he whines around some giggles.

“You do not make that decision for her,” you growl, throwing the pillow to the side and shoving him on his back before quickly crawling on top of him. “I would rather us both starve and rot away, before I tell your sweet, old parents that we’re hungry. ESPECIALLY at 20:14.”

“Baby, it’s fine,” he giggles, his hands settling on your hips. “They’re totally fine; you know my mom lives to make you happy!” You cross your arms over your chest, and he snickers as he raises up on his elbows, “just a quick bite to eat, a few laughs, then we can all go to bed, right?”

You exhale through your nose, and he tucks his lips in nervously.

“You know what?” You begin, relaxing your shoulders.

“What?”

“You’re right. You’re right! They’re just cooking. It’s fine.”

“Exactly! They’re fine.”

With that, you swing your legs off of your husband and scurry to the closet, and before he can ask, you grab a random stack of blankets to throw at his head. He screams at the sudden impact.

“Since they can whip up dinner, you can whip me up a bed on the couch. Since APPARENTLY you are just so okay with spontaneous forces of labor.”

He cackles some more as you mimic his “we’re hungry!” at random volumes, putting your clothes away in the drawers until his sweet old mother calls you both to the kitchen to eat, not too dissimilar from how she did when you were younger.

“I’m going to bury you alive,” you snarl at him, leaning into the arm tossed around your shoulders as you make your way down the hall to eat. “Watch your damn back. I’ll put cyanide in your food tomorrow, try me bitch.”

He merely snickers as you threaten him with the most bizarre forms of torture you can conjure, all while the smell of a hot supper fills the air around the house.

based on this video bc I love Lori and Noah 🥺🩷

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thebearer · 10 months

Note

what about reader coming to the restaurant before family cause she had a bad day and carmen was pissed off about something wrong that happened but when he sees you looking up at him pouting, his demeanor switches so fast

"Fuck, Richie, can you quit fuckin' with me!" Carmen roars, slinging the bowl with a hard shove.

"Cousin, I'm not doin' shit to you, alright?" Richie seethes, rolling his eyes as the other chefs- the new hires- avoid eye contact. Carmen doesn't act erratically often, tried not to for his reputation's sake, but today was a bad day.

"Hey, cousin, you need to chill the fuck out, alright? Get it out of your fuckin' system now before dinner rush because those people," Richie pointed through the window, where there was an empty dining room- for now. It would be filled by six o'clock. "Will fuckin' see you actin' like a jagoff."

"I wouldn't act like a fuckin' jagoff if you would do what I fuckin' ask you to!" Carmen roared, eyes bulging and vein by his neck protruding.

"Hey, relax, alright." Richie grit, breathing deeply out his nose. "Go fuckin' take a break. We got it. Go see your girl or somethin'. Get that stress out, for fucksake."

"The fuck are you talkin' about-"

"Your girl has been in your office for this past twenty minutes while you were actin' like a moron." Richie snapped, Carmen's demeanor suddenly faltering. "Yeah, get embarrassed, cousin. She heard all that shit."

"Just- shut the fuck up, alright? Fuck you." Carmen huffed, stomping towards the office.

"Don't fuck me. Go fuck her. Get some of that fuckin' attitude out, holy shit." Richie snarled, rolling his eyes.

Carmen ignored him, walking through the door of the office. You sat at his desk, mindlessly scrolling though your phone, barely looking up when he walked in. "I swear to God, Richie's a fuckin' pain in my ass." Carmen started in, ignoring your solemn expression. "Fuckin' wise ass. Thinks he knows fuckin' everything, and you know what? He- What's the matter with you?" Carmen stopped his ranting and pacing, skidding to a stop to look at you. Your sad eyes and long face.

"Nothin'." You muttered, looking up at Carmen gently. "What did Richie do?"

Carmen shook his head, sitting on the desk in front of you. "Not important. Tell me what's wrong, hm? What's goin' on?"

You faltered for a moment, deciding to shake your head and ignore your emotions. "It's nothing, Carm-"

"-You're lyin' to me." Not a question, a fact. Carmen's raised brow to you that. "Why are you lyin' to me?"

"I'm not, it's just..." The shaky breath you took in, a strangled, watery gasp had Carmen's heart lurching. "I just had a really bad day." You hated the way your voice cracked, wobbling and wavering with emotions. You'd cried all the way here, the freshness of the tears coming back to you again, flooding your waterline.

"What happened, baby?" Carmen's tone dropped into a coo, a soothing balm over your teary demeanor.

"It's just... I don't know, I felt like I couldn't get anything right today, and-and I just... I'm really tired." You admitted with a small quake in your tone. "I just want this day to be over."

"Did someone say something to you?" You'd bitched a few times about a coworker making off handed remarks to you, and Carmen was more than happy to say something to him. He didn't mind at all, insisted on it, in fact.

"No, it wasn't Toby." You rolled your eyes at the mention of him. "He wasn't bad today, actually, which made it worse. I just, I don't know, my mind was all over the place today and I-I'm just stressed."

"I'm sorry, baby." Carmen rasped, hand on yours, rubbing his thumb across your knuckles.

"It's ok." You pouted, exhaling deeply. "I just want to go home and not have another fucking thought for the rest of the day.

"Wish I could help you with that." Carmen grinned, playfully, proud to see that you smirked, shaking your head at him. "'m serious. You need me to do anything?"

"No." You shook your head. "I'm starving, so I'm gonna eat and then go home. Sit in the bath until I dissolve." You grin lightly up at him.

Carmen smiled, leaning over to kiss you sweetly, hands cupping your face, tasting the saltiness of your tears still lingering on your lips. "Are you hungry now? I can get you somethin' to eat real quick, baby. What do you want?"

"No, Carmy, I'll be alright-"

"Hey, Marcus," Carmen was sticking his head out already. "You got any focaccia ready?"

"Yes, Chef, I have a few prepped-"

"-Gimme one, please. Thanks, Marcus." Carmen nodded, taking the bread, and passing it over to you.

You frowned at him. "I was fine, Carmy. Could've waited until family." You pouted, but you were already tearing the bread basket open, mouth watering at the sight.

Carmen grinned. "I know, but I don't want you to go hungry. Had to taste tonight anyways. Tell me what you think." He muttered, watching you tear off a piece.

#thebearer #carmen berzatto #thebearerblurbs #carmy the bear #carmen berzatto fluff #carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto #carmy berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto smut #carmen berzatto x you #carmy berzatto x you #carmy x reader #carmy smut #carmen berzatto fanfiction #carmen berzatto fic #carmy berzatto fluff #the bear fx

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tteokdoroki · 1 year

Text

𑊡˚+₊🍼✦ — rizz + bkg.

૮ ͈>◡< ͈ა warnings — fluff + sfw, fem!reader, bakugou does nawt know what rizz means and his students make fun of him, pro hero!bkg is a teacher at UA, mentions of pregnancy scars, girl dad!bkg.

rizz — (slang) one’s ability to seduce a potential love interest. synonymous with game, charm.

“baby?”

“katsuki.”

“what the fuck is ‘rizz’?”

now he has your attention. setting aside your book for the night, you glance at your husband with an amused smile, he’s fresh out of the shower— golden skin shimmering with pearly droplets of water and hair matted wetly to his forehead. “who’s askin’, kats?” you coo, shifting to your knees as bakugou takes a seat on the edge of your shared bed, his lips drawn into a long frown— almost as if he’s pouting.

“i’m askin’, i swear t’god. these fuckin’ brats,” the blonde goes on to rant, the shower he’d just come from clearly not doing much to soothe the stresses of the day. circling an arm around his slender and unfortunately towelled waist from behind, you press burning kisses up and down the pro hero’s back and shoulders— hoping to calm katsuki just enough for him to get his thoughts into order. “one of my kids in class said i had no fuckin’ ‘rizz’ because ‘m ‘touchin’ thirty and haven’t got a damn ring in my finger yet. whatever that fuckin’ means.”

“rizz is like charisma, baby. like… how good you are at flirting or charming people,” keeping your words tender, you watch the clogs turn in katsuki’s head.

“that’s fuckin’ stupid.”

“awh but baby, you know what they said isn’t true…you’re the rizziest man i’ve ever met,” you can’t hide how hilarious you find the situation, still pressing tender kisses up katsuki’s neck until you reach just behind his ear— tugging on that spot with your teeth the way he likes. scratching at his wet scalp too. the bulking explosive man, with the roughest exterior and softest heart you’ve ever seen leans back into you, exhaling slowly through his nose. “where’s your wedding ring katsuki?”

he tilts his head back to look at you, love laced into his smoke screen and scarred eyes as pulls on a chain that sits comfortably against his neck, the golden band attached to it with his dog tags. “didn’t wanna lose it while trainin’ up the kids, today.” katsuki mumbles shyly. he’d done so once before almost in tears, only to find out you’d taken it to get cleaned of all the ash from his quirk.

brushing a thumb over his slightly chapped bottom lip, you smile at him again— taking in how beautiful katsuki looks under the warm glow of the lamp on your nightstand. “so what did you do? did’ya tell them you were married, with your baby keepin’ me up all night?” you say it like you’re exasperated, but while rolling his eyes katsuki knows you’re just kidding— happy to be stuck at home with your mini bakugou in the form of a precious little girl, blowing through his wallet to appease your cravings and soothe the boredom maternity leave brings with online shopping.

“of course i fuckin’ did,” he responds, failing to use his words as he tilts his head up for a kiss. a smile spreads slow on his lips, sexy and adorable all at once— a pleased look etched into bakugou’s features when you give into him and give him exactly what he wants. “showed them a picture of you.” he breathes into the lip lock, cheekily licking the words into your mouth.

“yeah?” you hum, pulling away from your husband with a glint in your eyes. “and how’d that work out for you, sweetpea?”

bakugou practically purrs at the pet name. he’ll never admit how much he loves to be babied — especially by you. “they believed me. said i had ‘infinite rizz’ whatever the hell that means too.” he lets you pull him into bed with you, let’s you crawl into his lap to get closer— his callous hands immediately settling on your hips, thumbs slipping under your (his) shirt to brush over the evidence of your pregnancy. stretch marks from your bump, the small scar from your c-section. “called you a milf as well, fuckin’ brats.”

“just means they think i’m hot and they’re surprised you that you managed to bag me. consider yourself lucky, mister dynamight.” you laugh again, sighing in content as bakugou massages the aches and pains— adoration pulsing through him because what you say is true. he is lucky. lucky that you stick around, that you’ve dealt with him for this long, that you love him the way you do and want him for the rest of your life. lucky to have his family, to have you.

and in the low light of your shared bedroom, it hits him all at once. the life that katsuki bakugou leads now, is a blessed one. he has a stable job teaching an amazing set of kids, his wife loves him more than anything and his little girl? well, she’ll be the death of him. but bakugou knows for a second he won’t take it all for granted, appreciating the quiet moments— like this, with his wife making a love-sick fool out of him, a smile of your lips so bright katsuki can see his future.

one that he never in a million years thought that he’d deserve.

“well then for once, they wouldn’t be too fuckin’ far off.” the blonde grins, pinching your hips lovingly— as if to get you back.

#bakugou x reader #bakugou x you #bakugou fluff #bakugou drabble #bakugou fic #bakugou imagine #bakugo x reader #idk what this is olelckdk #i thought it was funny but now i just love him #✧ ₊˚੭ — writing #tteokdoroki #✧ ₊˚💭੭ — aali just posted

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ayyy-pee · 6 months

Text

Discord 18+ - Twitter - Masterlist

Pairing: Nanami Kento x Female Reader

Story Summary: Following his mothers passing, Nanami inherits his family's rundown bakery. With the bakery on its last leg, Nanami reluctantly takes on the task of trying to save what his family has worked to keep for decades, but he can't do it alone.

Genre: Bakery/Coffee Shop AU

Warnings: Workaholic meanie Nanami, employee x boss relationship, but also enemies to lovers, death, grief/mourning, profanity, jealousy, fluff, angst, Nanami owns a bakery, parental loss, Nanami is bad at feelings, I don’t know if I’ll do smut for this one but sexual tension, mutual pining, Nanami is sort of an asshole here

Art by: Ilameys + (Unknown artist (right pic). I'd love to credit the artist so if you know who it is, please let me know!)

Chapter 2 - Wienerbrød

Chapter Summary: You try to bake something new!

You kick your shoes off as you enter your apartment. With your phone wedged between your ear and your shoulder, you groan in irritation as you storm into your living room.

“I’m telling you, Shoko. This guy is such a fucking asshole. Shut me down the second I asked him a simple question,” you’re ranting as you flop down onto your couch. “He’s got to be the most pessimistic person I’ve ever met. He did nothing but pick apart the entire bakery and tell me how shitty it was, tried to establish some strange dominance thing in the kitchen after offering me the job… the kitchen,” you stress dramatically, wavering your arms as if Shoko can see you. “My domain! Can you believe him? He doesn’t give a shit about the actual bakery. He’s a total businessman type. Stiff, boring as hell and a dick. I don’t know why I said yes to the position. I’m going to hate my life.”

You exhale sharply once you’ve finished your tirade. On the other end of the line, you hear your friend inhale deeply. You didn’t have to ask to know she was sucking on a cigarette, likely almost finished with it and prepping her second, maybe third. After a short beat of silence, you hear her exhale. “Hmm, is he hot at least?”

“Extremely,” you admit through gritted teeth, rubbing away the tension quickly forming between your brows. “That’s the worst part.”

You hate to think it, you loathe to admit it, but Nanami was so very fucking attractive, like stupid hot and it pissed you off! Those thick arms practically bulging through his dress shirt, those veins that exposed themselves and ran enticingly along his forearms when he rolled his sleeves up. His chiseled features, those sharp cheekbones, even his frown was attractive. And god, you didn’t even want to think about his waist.

Anyone with eyes could see Nanami Kento was an insanely beautiful man, modelesque even. But it only served to piss you off more. His constant gloomy attitude was so off-putting, it almost took away from his beauty, like a rain cloud threatening to cover a blue sky.

“Anyway,” you sigh, putting a stop to your own thoughts as you stare up at the ceiling. “That’s beside the point, Shoko. He’s an asshole, but it’s obvious he needs help to get his bakery up and running. I think it’s family owned. He told me that he grew up in the bakery. Seemed miserable about it, though.”

“Interesting,” Shoko manages, though she sounds rather disinterested. “Well if he had to pick anyone, he definitely hired the best person for the job. You’re annoyingly positive.”

“Okay, rude.”

“I just mean you’ll balance his negativity well. Just try not to let him walk all over you. You’ve worked with plenty of dickheads before. What’s one more?”

You hum, your mind already accepting your fate. “I guess you’re right.”

“You know I am. The guy clearly needs help and you love this kind of thing - taking something old, miserable and rundown and making it loveable again.”

You hum again, listening as Shoko blows out another breath of smoke. “And who knows? Maybe you’ll do the same for the bakery, too.”

“Right. Wait– what?”

“I gotta go. I’ll call you later.” She says, voice light with humor. The line goes dead and you roll your eyes at your friends comments as you let the day's events wash over you. Nanami said he wanted to sample some of your desserts on Monday and see some new recipes. You can do that.

The moment you’d stepped into the bakery’s kitchen, your mind raced with possibilities. You felt at home there. The kitchen felt like it had been loved, like it was properly used and cared for, albeit old and a little rundown. That was okay. It gave the kitchen personality and you loved that. You wanted to continue giving the kitchen the love it deserved.

Nanami told you he’d grown up in that kitchen, but he truly seemed to hate even being in the building. You tried to picture a chubby little blonde boy with his arms crossed and a scowl etched across his face standing in the kitchen covered in flour and icing. Adorable, but definitely not the man you’d met today. You wondered how it came to be that he now owned this bakery when he seemed to despise it.

And you wondered if there was a way to get him to learn to love it again.

You shake your head, pushing the thought away. It wasn’t your job to turn his frown upside down, so to speak. It was your job to make sure the bakery was successful as it’s Head Baker and that’s what you intended to do.

- - - - - -

The weekend came and went just as quickly and now you find yourself standing in the kitchen of the bakery with Nanami as the sun barely begins to rise over the city. You pile your notebooks onto the large metal table in the center of the room. Nanami reaches over, taking the notebook sitting atop the stack.

“Are these your recipes?” He asks, flipping through the pages.

“Yep. These are some pastries I created on a whim. I was thinking we could go through and select what you like, maybe tweak some so that they fit more of the vibe you’re going for with the bakery. Or are there any pastries you’d like to keep from the previous owner?”

Nanami’s dark eyes shoot up from the notebook to look at you. You hold his gaze, trying to find anything behind those eyes aside from the clear hatred he holds for this bakery, but you don’t. It’s frustrating.

“No,” is all he says.

“Okay…well, we can start from scratch then. Let me know what you see that you may like.”

Nanami replies with something between a grunt and a hum. “I’ll review a few of these and will follow up. If you want to get comfortable and organize the kitchen to your liking, go ahead. Please try and have a sample pastry ready within the next few hours.”

He turns to go into his office without so much as a look back.

You sigh, trying to get used to this silence you were sure you’d be working in everyday whether Mr. Nanami was there or not. You couldn’t wait to establish a menu so you could bring staff on. At least then you wouldn’t feel so alone.

You wander through the kitchen with a notepad, looking through all of the smallwares and jotting down what you see in case you need to place an order. There seems to be many of the supplies you need here already and in good condition - spatulas, mixing bowls, flour sifters, icing tips. The bakeware also seems to be well supplied with an array of bread pans, muffin tins and cake pans. This place was fully stocked as far as you could tell.

You shuffle over to where three mixer appliances sit on a counter against the wall, setting your notepad down to inspect them. They’re a little older, but they turn on and mix just fine. You’d bet they mixed better than some of the newer models. You decide you’ll keep them.

As you lean one of the mixers over to check its condition, you find a small booklet lying underneath the stand. You pick it up, gently setting the mixer back down before you open it to inspect it. It’s a tiny black leatherbound journal with very faded gold lettering in a language you definitely don’t know.

And you? Well, you’re nosey as hell, so you carefully peel back the cover, taking in the elegant writing etched onto the first page.

To my baby boy

There’s some strange writing scrawled beneath this in what looks like English letters. You can’t really tell, but it seems to be some message in whatever language this is. You turn a couple of pages and let your eyes roam over what’s written within. The rest of the pages you can read fairly easily as they’re in English. You can see immediately that these are recipes. The booklet is full of pastry dishes, both sweet and savory. They appear to be foreign pastries and you feel your heart race with excitement as you imagine making them because while you were adventurous with your baking, you’re positive you haven’t tried to make any of these.

And Nanami did want to sample your baking, so why not give him something he’s not going to see in your portfolio?

Eagerly, you begin moving through the rest of the kitchen equipment, taking out what you need to begin.

- - - - - -

The kitchen is full with the smell of fresh dough baking. The quiet hum of the ovens working calms you as you sift through the recipe in the booklet you’d found earlier. You decided to make one of your original creations while also trying your hand at this new mystery pastry in case Mr. Nanami liked both…or one…or none. Shit, you didn’t want to imagine him not liking either.

You stare down at the ingredients already in the mixing machines.

“Alright. So, water, 2 large eggs, a teaspoon of salt, unsalted butter, active dry yeast…” You read through the remaining list of ingredients until you reach the end. “And now…flour?” You squint down at the notebook, the words scribbled messily on the paper, time having faded the ink. You can’t really make out the measurements written out. It looks like 2 ½ cups. You’ll try it and hey, if it doesn’t work, you’ll simply adjust the recipe to find the right mix. Easy.

Just as you’re sorting through the measuring cups, Nanami emerges from his office with your journals, mouth set in its usual hard line as he makes his way to you. He sets the books down, and you swear you see him inhale the sweet scent of the pastries currently baking in the oven before softly exhaling. You open your mouth to say something before quickly shutting it because he’s back to business in about .02 seconds. You really can’t read this guy, so you don’t try to. You redirect your focus back on to your task.

“These look good,” he tells you, his finger tapping on the book stacked on top. “I placed a post-it note on the recipes I think may work for the soft opening, but I’d like for you to make a sample of them beforehand. Maybe just a few a day.”

You nod, acknowledging his request but far too focused on scooping your guesstimate of flour. Nanami eyes you carefully, brown eyes staring as you carefully run your finger over the top of the flour. The excess falls carelessly onto the table and just before you pour it in, Nanami speaks, his voice halting your movements.

“What are you making now?”

“Hmm?” You ask, glancing over at him. “Oh, something called…” you peer down at the booklet, “Wee-ner-brod?” You’re one hundred percent positive you butchered that pronunciation, but how do you even pronounce ‘wienerbrød’?

Clearly Nanami knows because he surprisingly lets out an amused chuckle before he asks, “Wienerbrød?” With what you assume is perfect pronunciation. And you’re not sure why, but the sound of his deep baritone laugh makes your stomach twist in a strangely pleasant way.

“Yes! That!” You point to Nanami with your free finger. “I’m making…” you stumble your way through the pronunciation again and get another small laugh from Mr. Nanami which makes your own lips curl up in a smile.

“I didn’t know you knew how to make Danish pastries.”

“I don’t, but you don’t learn without trying.”

“True. What step are you on now?” Nanami asks curiously, coming up to stand next to you. This close to him, you can truly see just how large he is. Not to mention, he smells incredible. You ignore the way the mix of the aroma of baked goods and his cologne almost makes your eyes want to roll back. You’d never smelled something so tantalizing before.

Nanami calls your name and you clear your throat, trying to re-focus.

“Oh, um…well I’ve added mostly everything and now I need to incorporate the flour - about 2 ½ cups.”

“Your calculation is off.” He affirms gently, eyeing the measuring cup in your hand.

You snort, “Are you suddenly an expert in Danish baking or something?”

“I can throw a few things together.” He says and you peek over to see him rolling the sleeves of his very nice (and probably very expensive) shirt up to his elbows. Your eyes roam over, drinking in the sight of those thick veins that you couldn’t get out of your head over the weekend protruding from his forearms, the way his muscles flex with the slightest movement and you wonder for a moment what it would be like to grab onto those arms while he –

“As I was saying,” Nanami’s quiet voice interrupts your reverie. “2 ½ cups is close, but you actually need 2 ¾ cups for this recipe.” He reaches in front of you to grab a ¾ measuring cup and again, you’re assaulted with the scent of his cologne. Your mind erupts with thoughts of nothing appropriate for an employee to be thinking about their boss, but you can’t help it!

You blame it on that damn smile of his and that laugh. It’s thrown you off of your game.

Nanami takes the measuring cup you’re holding and replaces it with another. “You also need to use your hands to mix this.”

You might faint.

“Is that…” you lick your lips, mouth suddenly feeling dry. “Is that completely necessary?”

Nanami slowly adds small amounts of flour into the mixer bowl while kneading with his other hand. “It’s time consuming, of course, but it allows for more control over the dough. You can feel the dough's texture…if it’s too dry or if it’s too wet. From there you can determine if more water or more flour is needed.” You watch as his brows furrow in concentration, a little surprised by his knowledge around dough. Though it shouldn’t be surprising given that he grew up in this very same bakery. Of course he’d know.

And once again, your stomach does somersaults.

Damnit, he was definitely going to need to stay out of the kitchen if you were going to stay employed here.

As Nanami continues working through the recipe, you chat idly about general things. He tells you a bit about his time as a businessman, but doesn’t elaborate on what exactly led him to own a bakery. And you tell him a bit about yourself, trying to keep the conversation light as this was the most you’d both interacted since your interview and you’re surprised by how well it’s going. You don’t want to ruin it by poking and prodding.

As the conversation goes on, you watch him very carefully as he works the dough, ignoring the way your heart races watching him do the very thing you do almost daily.

“The end result should be somewhat sticky,” he states.

And oh god, something was getting sticky alright…and it lay between your legs. Your eyes are glued to the bulging muscles of Nanami’s forearms working the flour into a thick doughy substance between his large, thick fingers. Your gaze moves up his stupidly sexy arms, to his biceps straining against his shirt and you imagine him flexing so hard, it rips to shreds, falling in tatters to the floor. The cartoonish image almost makes you want to laugh. And you would have if your eyes hadn’t continued their journey, higher to his tight shoulders moving in circles as he presses his palms into the dough. Higher to the tension in his jaw, the muscles rippling as he grits his teeth with focus. The kitchen suddenly feels unbearably hot and you’re not sure if it’s the ovens running causing the temperature to rise or the view in front of you.

Nanami had never mentioned he knew how to bake. But why would he? It was your job to know. You also never thought to ask after the sour note your interview ended on despite you still being offered the position. You could not stand him upon first meeting and now here you were practically drooling into this batter over how incredibly sexy he was when he was baking.

Nanami slowly pours flour in again as he kneads the dough with expert precision. The way he grips it in his hands, the way his fingers deftly sprinkle flour into the mix. You wonder what else those big hands can do.

The oven timer dings and you snap out of your lewd thoughts, pretty sure sweat is forming on your forehead from your fantasies. You spin around quickly to slide on oven mitts before you pull the pans from the oven. You’d chosen to make miniature fruit tarts with a vanilla pastry cream. A simple recipe, but absolutely to die for. Setting the tray down, you return to Nanami’s side just as he finishes kneading the dough.

And you try to hide the frown pulling at the corner of your lips when you realize you’d lost your perfect view.

He moves to the sink to wash the remaining dough from his hands, returning with plastic wrap to cover the mixing bowl. “I hope you weren’t planning on completing that today,” He says before turning to head toward the walk-in refrigerator. When he emerges, you shoot him a questioning look.

“I was going to let the dough rise for a few hours while I worked on some other things.”

He hums in acknowledgment, but shakes his head. “For this dough, you need to do a long rise for the best result. Overnight is best.”

“Okay, you’re the expert Danish pastry baker apparently,” you tease, earning you another small chuckle from him and you feel your face heat up at the sound.

What is with you today?

“How did you come up with the idea to make Wienerbrød anyway?” He questions suddenly. “Just seems a bit random given what recipes you’d given me to review.”

“Oh!” You rush back over to the mixers excitedly and grab the booklet, holding it up for Nanami to see, a wide grin on your face. “I found this under one of the mixers. It has some strange language I can’t read in the front of it…I’m assuming it’s Danish? But some delicious sounding recipes from what I could understand when I skimmed through. I decided this would be a good idea to take myself out of my comfort zone to try something new.”

Nanami takes a step forward, squinting hard at the little journal in your hands. Suddenly, his eyes widen slightly and he snatches the book from your hold. He opens it to the first page, where the foreign message is scrawled down before he snaps the book shut, his lips pursing in displeasure.

He pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs in clear irritation. “Next time you find something that is very clearly a personal belonging, please bring it to me before you take it upon yourself to poke through something that isn’t yours,” he snaps, his voice clipped.

The shift in tone takes you aback.

“Oh. I’m sorry, Mr. Nanami. It just seemed to belong to someone who knew their way around baking so I–”

“I didn’t ask for the reasoning behind your nosiness,” he cuts you off and you feel your own irritation begin to slowly rise. “Is this a habit of yours? Digging through people’s belongings and taking things that aren’t yours?”

You scoff, folding your arms across your chest defensively. “If you’d let me finish, I’m trying to apologize –”

“I don’t want an apology. I want you to show up here, bake and leave. Not spend your time digging through someone else’s belongings.”

You inhale sharply, trying to gather your thoughts. This conversation has taken an unpleasant turn and the last thing you want to do is have a blow up with your boss. You feel like you’ve actually made progress with him today and this feels like a setback waiting to happen.

“Again, Mr. Nanami, that wasn’t my intention. I just wanted to try something new. I had no idea this book…” you wave your hand in his direction. “...would be such a sore spot for you.”

At this, Nanami seems to bristle. “My sore spot,” he stresses the words, “is nosey employees who don’t just do the job I asked them to do. I asked you to make a sample pastry –”

“And I did,” you cut him off, gesturing to your tarts cooling on the table. “And I had enough time to try my hand at something new, which is why I wanted to try something new and present it to you.”

You sigh when Nanami meets your response with silence.

“What’s the issue here? You had no problem with helping me make this until you saw that book,” you say, pointing at the small black journal he holds. Your gazes lock in an intense staredown and even as Nanami annoys you, you can’t help but find his frustratingly pretty brown eyes completely mesmerizing.

Ugh, stop.

“The issue,” Nanami stresses, “is you sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong.”

“Excuse me? It’s just a recipe book. Why are you so upset about it? Is it yours or something?”

“Again, poking your nose where it doesn’t belong.”

“Mr. Nanami, with all due…respect,” you grit out the last word because he was really starting to piss you off, “if we’re going to be working together as closely as we are, there needs to be some trust here. It’s just a recipe book. I apologize for overstepping, but you can tell me why referencing this book to make Weenerbrod is such a big deal.”

You could swear you see the ghost of a smile on his lips just before he rolls his eyes, correcting your pronunciation of the pastry again, just as he turns his back to you. “You are my employee, I am your employer and that’s it. My helping you to bake a simple bread does not make us friends. Please complete the sample pastries I requested of you and we can reconvene once they’re finished. End of discussion.”

Nanami heads to his office without another word, slamming the door behind him.

You can only watch him disappear from your sight, seething. Left standing in the kitchen alone after yet another faceoff with your new boss, you’re suddenly reminded of your earlier conversation with Shoko.

Just try not to let him walk all over you. You’ve worked with plenty of dickheads before. What’s one more?

You resist going after Nanami and giving him a piece of your mind, instead following his instructions to finish your samples. You won’t push him. Clearly that little book meant something to him and he had no intention of sharing. And he was right. It wasn’t your business to know…

…But you can’t help feeling upset that the light mood of earlier is now gone.

You sigh, ignoring the pit in your stomach as your anger begins to subside. Instead, you move to the walk in refrigerator, gathering the ingredients to make the vanilla cream for your tarts.

Your mind is still racing with the conversation that just took place even as you mix your ingredients and pack the cream into the icing decorating bags. You realize for the first time since meeting Nanami that he wasn’t only this stoic tyrant that enjoys barking orders. He was someone with interests, someone with depth, someone who clearly enjoyed the art of baking the same way you do. You saw the look in his eyes as he guided you through making this pastry. And while you’ve barely known Nanami, you’re familiar with the look on someone’s face when they’ve participated in their passion. He looked…happy. Clearly, there’s more to Nanami than you know.

More to him than what he was willing to show you. For now.

You’re annoyingly positive.

Shoko’s words make you roll your eyes as they echo in her head. Because you know she’s right.

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scoops-stevie-archive · 11 months

Text

ftm steve, established steddie. contains detailed descriptions of periods.

Steve spends the first day of his period absolutely miserable. His emotions are all over the place. One minute he's this close to lashing out at the first minor inconvenience and the next he's ready to bawl his eyes out.

He knows Robin can tell that something's up. She keeps asking if he's alright and Steve tries to brush it off, tell her he's fine, it's just a little headache, he couldn't sleep last night. But then that sends her into another spiral that makes Steve want to scream and throw something just to get her to be quiet.

Those are mean thoughts, Steve knows, but his body's all out of whack, and his knees and lower back are killing him and he swears he can feel his fucking hips shifting. Add in the cramps that are steadily rolling through his uterus and he's so fucking close to committing homicide.

He's in the stacks, dead-eyed as he stocks the new animated releases, and shifting from foot to foot because now those also hurt and he can feel the beginnings of a migraine that'll have him calling off the next day, and he just wants to go home and lay on the couch with his heating pad and his boyfriend while some shitty TV show plays in the background.

"Steve?" Speak of the devil.

Steve makes a noise of acknowledgement and continues to shelve the tapes. He ignores the pang in his chest that makes him want to reach out and pull Eddie closer and burrow into him.

As if he can read his mind (or tell by the look on his face), Eddie steps closer. "You got Robbie real worried, sweetheart," he says gently, hands in his pockets. Steve can tell he wants to reach out for him the same way he does.

"I'm fine, Eds," Steve says. More like he tries not to snap at the only person who knows about his "condition." He can feel his agitation rising, though, with another wave of cramps that are accompanied by nausea and a sick feeling of something gushing from down there.

"Is that why you look like you wanna blow chunks all over the place right now?"

Steve maybe puts a tape on the shelf a little too hard. "It's been a shit day, Eddie, I really don't need sarcasm right now."

Eddie puts his hands up. "Sorry, sorry." He comes a little closer and lowers his voice. "Talk to me, baby. What's the matter?"

Steve sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. "It's the first day," he mutters behind his hand.

"Hm? I couldn't hear you, Stevie."

"I said–" Steve sighs again, harsher this time, and his hand falls to his side, his gaze firmly locked on the tapes in front of him. "It's the first day, and the first day is always shit. It feels like a rock's sitting in my stomach or something and I can't take more than two steps without feeling like I'm gonna puke."

He doesn't mean to unload it all onto his boyfriend, but he asked for it. His perfect, wonderful boyfriend who takes it all in stride without a single hint of judgement or disgust.

"I'm hormonal as fuck, man, and it’s like customers chose today specifically to be even more annoying than they usually are, like they made it their personal mission or some shit."

Steve looks to the front of the store where Robin is still at the counter and then back at Eddie. "Robin keeps asking me if I'm alright, and I love her, Eds, I really do, but if she keeps it up, I'm gonna end up snapping at her and then she'll cry and that'll make me feel even worse."

Steve takes a deep breath, holds in it for ten seconds, and exhales. "I just need a break," he says, sounding defeated, and so so tired. "I just need to be alone for five minutes, and–"

Eddie, who has been quiet this whole time, like a saint, letting Steve rant until he runs out of steam, tilts his head and looks at him with those big Bambi eyes Steve loves so much.

"And what, Stevie?" he asks gently.

Something in Steve's chest snaps and his bottom lip wobbles before he can stop it. The back of his throat burns like it always does when he's about to cry, and– yep, here come the tears.

He takes a shaky breath and his voice breaks when he says, "I need you."

Eddie's expression falls into something Steve absolutely hates. "Baby–"

Steve clears his throat and the tears are gone as quick as they came, though his eyes are a little red rimmed and shiny.

He shakes his head and waves Eddie off, putting more tapes on the shelves like he didn't just have a mini breakdown in the middle of his shift. "It's fine, Eddie, really. I'll just, I don't know, take a painkiller and tough the next couple hours out."

The tape he's holding is gently taken from him and set on the shelf for him. Eddie levels him with a raised eyebrow.

"Is that really what you want to do?"

Steve bites his lip. He doesn't. Work is the last place he wants to be at today, or this whole week for that matter.

He shakes his head with a soft, "No."

"Okay, then."

Eddie tells him to go grab his things from the break room. Steve is too exhausted to argue. He comes back to the front counter but before Robin can launch into a lengthy apology, Eddie interrupts her with a minute shake of his head.

Steve holds his arms out and pulls her in for a hug anyway.

"I'm sorry for being an ass all day," he says and plants a kiss on the top of her head.

Robin hugs him back and kisses his cheek. "I'm sorry for being pushy." She pulls back and takes Steve's hands in hers, lacing their fingers together. "Hope you feel better soon, dingus."

Steve can't leave his car at work overnight so he follows Eddie's van to the trailer. He grabs one of Eddie's pullover hoodies out of his closet once they're inside and a pair of baggy sweatpants before making a beeline for the bathroom to pee and change his pad.

Soon enough, Steve comfortable and cozy on the couch, covered with at least two blankets and even more pillows, his hood pulled over his head and mussing his hair up even more. Eddie's got My Friend Is a Vampire playing on the TV, but Steve's saving grace is the heating pad that's covering his waist under the blankets.

Steve groans softly as he's hit with more cramps and shifts his hips against them.

"Here, sweetheart." Eddie comes back from the kitchen and hands him a cup of hot chocolate. He reclaims his spot next to Steve, boxing him between his body and the back of the couch. "How you feeling?"

"Like shit," Steve grumps, taking a sip and reaching back to set the mug on the side table. "I'd rather take being gnawed on by demobats than have to deal with these cramps. At least I can see the bats and try to stop them." He winds his arms around Eddie's waist and rests his head on his shoulder.

Eddie crinkles his nose in distaste. "Frankly, babe, I'd rather you not go through either." He rubs his thumb over the skin of Steve's hip. "What's stopping you from using all that government money to pay for your surgery?"

Steve hums and turns his nose into Eddie's neck, smiling against the skin. "I wanna get at least one kid out of you before I do that."

They've talked about this. In length. Eddie was there for the Winnebago conversation. Steve wasn't lying back then, but he's since realized he was wanting all those things with the wrong person.

"Yeah?" Eddie's voice is amused. "You want a couple Harrington spawn running around the trailer park?"

"Nah, was thinking more along the lines of a Munson brat."

Eddie stills against him.

Steve comes out from his hiding spot and grins at the look on his boyfriend's face. He leans up and kisses his cheek. "Did I break your brain on that one, honey?"

Eddie shakes himself out of his stupor and cups Steve's face, pressing him into the couch so he can kiss him silly.

"I'm gonna give you so many Munson brats, baby," he promises between leaving kisses all over Steve's face and Steve's giggles. "You won't even know what hit ya by the time I'm through with you."

Steve guffaws and lets Eddie cover him with kisses and love.

"I'll hold you to that, baby, don't worry."

#cj writes #steddie #steddie ficlet #ftm steve #ftm steve harrington #trans steve harrington #wrote this on tuesday when i started my period and was feeling like shit #now it's saturday and my period is over #cj talks

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hysteria-things · 3 months

Text

ONE

ʚ♡ɞ 𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓 | 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓 ʚ♡ɞ

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: chris x reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: guess who’s back in town: the sturniolo triplets. it’s for their birthday party their parents are throwing, the same party your parents force you to go to.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: swearing

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1,054

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: we’re locked in on the series, folks!

you can’t go a day without seeing something along the lines of the sturniolo triplets, and it fucking pisses you off.

your parents went to high school with theirs and were really close. your mom got pregnant with you around the same time marylou got pregnant with the triplets, your “best friends.”

the same triplets that left you months ago because of their career of being youtubers. the least they could’ve done was still message you, but no. they unfollowed you on everything.

you texted them multiple times, but all you got was one-word answers or no answer at all. as much as you didn’t want to, you stopped trying after a while because it was no use.

your parents still hang out with marylou and jimmy, sometimes even justin when he’s in town. at least you got one more best friend that you grew up with, nathan doe.

nathan is the youngest out of the four of you. nick, matt, and chris are turning twenty tomorrow and nate’s turning nineteen on the ninth. you’ve been nineteen since april, so you’re right in the middle.

you guys met him in elementary school and he was the last piece of the puzzle. you guys were even called the FOREVER FIVE, something you all made up at a sleepover in the fourth grade.

of course the three stooges didn’t drop him when they left. favoritism, i guess.

you scroll angrily on tiktok. it’s like the app senses your hatred for them and decides to put edits or clips from their videos on your for you page. this shit is definitely not for you.

then, there’s a knock on your bedroom door. “come in.” you call out, and your mother comes in. she sits on your bed and sighs. “what’s up?” you ask.

she gives you a face of sympathy, and it scares you a little. “the triplets are back in town.” she starts, and that gains your attention. “and i want you to come with me and your father to their birthday party tomorrow.”

“no.” you flat-out say. it’s no secret that your mom knows about your hatred either since you cried to her for a week straight about how they abandoned you.

“y/n, please.” your mom puts a hand on your knee. “marylou would love to see you there. she asks about you, you know. she misses you.”

frowning, you start to think. you miss her too. you never blamed her for what her sons did, but you haven’t seen her since they left. she is the sweetest lady you’ve ever met. “and they’re celebrating nate’s birthday, too. you have to at least show up for him, okay?”

you exhale sharply. “okay.”

you pull up to the party the next day with your parents, making your way to the backyard where it’s held. not a lot of people are there, just close friends and family. you scan the area at the top of the steps for nathan, getting disappointed when you don’t see him.

marylou engulfs you in a hug the moment you step on the grass. “hello, sweetheart!” she exclaims, pulling away with a big smile on her face. she places her hands on your shoulders. “how are you doing? you feeling okay?”

“i’m doing fine!” you reply in the same tone, putting on a fake smile.

“thank you so much for coming. i know it’s been a little… strange for you for the past few months. i’m sorry about that.”

“please don’t apologize. you did nothing wrong,” you say and she pulls you back in for another hug.

“if you want, the boys are standing by the chips and dip. if not, don’t be afraid to make yourself comfortable.” she points to the numerous folding tables set up.

god, you missed this woman. “i will. thank you so much.”

you walk over to the table where your parents are, placing your things down before joining them.

“twenty years old is fucking disgusting.” nick rants, dipping a chip in onion dip and popping it into his mouth.

the other two giggle. “yeah, well—” chris pauses when he turns his head and lands eyes on someone. “holy shit, guys.” he taps both of his brothers on the arm.

“look.” he continues, pointing at you from across the way when he gets his sibling’s attention. “we have to talk to her.”

“chris, no.” matt says. “do you not know that she hates us? it was shitty, what we did. that’s honestly my biggest regret.”

“we are petty losers for that.” nick chimes in.

chris crosses his arms. he would do anything to get you back into his life. there was no specific reason why they did what they did. they ghosted a lot of old friends ever since they moved to LA, and you got unlucky. “fine. if you guys won’t, i will. i want to get my best friend back.”

“chris, wait! that’s not a good idea!” the two scream at him as he starts to march over to you, who’s now pouring pepsi into a red solo cup.

you gasp out of shock when you turn around and see a brunette towering over you. “hi.” he says lowly. “i didn’t think you’d come.”

“i came for nate.” you say coldly. “where is he?”

“he has to do something before he comes.” you move over to start walking, but he steps in front of you.

“chris—”

“i’m so fucking sorry.” he apologizes. “we miss you.”

“should’ve thought of that before you woke up one day and decided to pretend i didn’t exist.”

his heart aches at your words. the three of them really are assholes. “can we just start over? please?”

“start over?” you scoff. “we can’t start over after all of that. i practically known you since birth, and you want to start over?”

“y/n, i’m—”

you peek over his shoulder and cut him off. “nate’s here.” you eventually get out of his way and start to head over to nate, but stop and turn back around.

there’s a hint of hope in chris that you changed your mind, but he was wrong. “i kept the note.”

he furrows his eyebrows. “what note?”

ouch.

you laugh to yourself. of course, he doesn’t remember. “never mind. happy birthday.” you mumble, walking off into the crowd.

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @mattsneezing @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @hearts4chris @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom @tillies33ssss @sturnifyed @mayhem-72 @ripmattitude @p1xieswrld @alorsxsturn @txssvx @sttzee @multiluvr @delilahprentiss @matthewsspecial @idkhowtosleep @sturniolho

#chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo imagine #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo smut #sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo fluff #[ ✿ ] promise?

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alphabetboyluvr · 8 months

Text

PALLADIUM - MYG

title credit: palladium- greyson chance

pairing: dilf!yoongi x reader // friends to lovers, slowburn, eventual smut

synopsis:

min yoongi is urgent. in the way he bites his nails down to the bed, and the way his sore fingers type out desperate sentences just minutes before deadlines, he is urgent. how he prepares jaehyun’s day bag before grandma comes by, and how he double checks everything is packed, he is urgent. the requests for you to watch over jaehyun each and every deadline day are, always, predictably, urgent. but the way min yoongi falls in love with you is slow. gradual. tepid. until, like everything with min yoongi, it becomes urgent.

wordcount: 3.2K

note from holly: this was a prompt from a winner of one of my kofi quizzes! was supposed to be a drabble but now we are looking at a lil three parter. no smut in this part, just setting up our dynamics <3 yoongi is a boy dad! idc! argue with the wall!!!!

PART TWO // PART THREE

minors dni // cross posted to wattpad

"I wouldn't ask if it wasn't urgent," Yoongi pleads across the bakery counter. Nails bitten down to the bed, he's got bags underneath his eyes. Hasn't been sleeping well these days. Hasn't really been sleeping at all.

"I told you last time—"

"I know, I know," he sighs, pushing off of the countertop and pacing a few steps away, raking a stressed palm through his long, dark hair. Dishevelled, he hasn't had it cut in a while. You'll never tell him, but you think it looks better this way. "Look, it's the last time. I promise. I just really fucked it this time."

With a raised brow, you fold your arms over your chest. The apron beneath you bunches a little awkwardly, but you've never cared much for composure around Yoongi. Have simply known him too long and seen him through too many clumsy stages of life to be bothered.

Tipping your head back, you exhale a sharp breath from the very depths of your lungs.

"You are so lucky Jaehyun is an angel baby," you eventually say, shaking your head as you reluctantly agree. "What time do you need me?"

"Deadline is at midnight," Yoongi says, "So whenever you can get to mine, really. Mum has him till seven, but then she's got Bitch'n'Stitch—"

"Hey," you scold. "My mum goes to that knitting group, too."

"I'm not calling her a bitch—but I've heard their conversations," Yoongi reminds you. He swears they don't actually do any knitting (as if they haven't handmade half of Jaehyun's closet). Thinks they spend the entire time gossiping. And while yes, they do do a lot of gossiping, they can multitask. Unlike him, apparently. "But fine. She has her knitting group at seven."

Yoongi will never simply call it a knitting group, if he can help it.

Bitch'n'Stitch is his go-to, but he's also partial to Stitching Hour.

Last week, you'd just gone on a rant about how it's inappropriate to insinuate that all women of a certain age from your small town are witches—"Women used to get burned at the stake, Yoongi. Burned!"—so he knows better than to say it out loud today, even if it makes him laugh whenever he thinks about them knitting on broomsticks.

"I'll probably be outta here at just gone six," you tell him.

It's the late shift, so you're responsible for closing and cleaning up, but after two years of part-time work alongside your studies, you're a dab hand. Can action off every item on the to-do list in record time, and to a standard even your boss can't achieve.

You're wasted on a small town like this, but someone's gotta do it.

"That's fine," Yoongi nods. "I just need to straighten this essay out and get my citations done. You can go as soon as I'm finished—and hey, you can order takeout. I'll pay."

Knowing Yoongi, he's probably surviving on instant noodles, and spending all of his money on Red Bull and Jaehyun's meticulously planned diet.

Jaehyun's been off formula for about two months, now, and Yoongi is terrified of feeding him the wrong thing. By the looks of his slightly skinnier-than-usual frame, he's the one in need of a good meal.

And so, as you're doing your final tasks of the day, you don't bin the breads that need to be chucked. Instead, you bag them up. All of them. The pastries, too. Will just have to hope Yoongi has freezer space.

By the time you make it home, you've only got ten minutes to spare for a quick shower before you need to rush to Yoongi's. You'll be a little after seven, but it's fine. You've resigned yourself to staying at Yoongi's until midnight, now.

It's how it usually goes.

He'll work up until his deadline, rewriting and revising paragraphs that are perfectly fine and need no alterations. His own worst critic, you know that he really doesn't need to stress himself out like this.

Still, he does. You think he'll always be this way—at least, he was in high school, and he remains to be this way, even in university. Too much of a habit has been formed. It's ingrained in the ridges of his brain. Pink and permanent—just like the pout on his lips as he opens his apartment door for you later that evening.

Forearm tucked under Jaehyun's pudgy thighs, Yoongi cradles his son into his side, as a look of relief relaxes onto his face. It's a stark reminder of why Yoongi stresses himself out so much.

You can afford to make mistakes. The only person you have to answer to is yourself.

Yoongi doesn't have that luxury anymore. Hasn't done for a while, now. Won't ever get it again—or at least, not for another seventeen years.

"Hey," he whispers, then casts his eyes down to Jaehyun's sleepy head. Nestling into Yoongi's shoulder, Jaehyun's dark hair now has a little length to it. Much like his own, Yoongi is refusing to cut it. Another thing he's scared of getting wrong.

The subtle nod Yoongi gestures towards Jaehyun is a request for you to be quiet.

You're familiar with his paternal habits by now; the behaviours he exhibits only when he's wearing his invisible 'Dad' hat.

He tucks back against the door, letting you walk on through and into his apartment.

Shoes off by the door, Yoongi locks up as you shake off your jacket, and hook it on the empty peg in the middle of the rack.

Small and a little dark, Yoongi hates his home. Is strapped for cash, so turned the open plan kitchen and sitting room into a studio-type set-up. Has his bed where a sofa should be, and manages to cram everything somewhere. His desk, his small keyboard, his clothing rail that he really needs to reorganise. A bunch of his things are in storage.

Jaehyun's room is what once was Yoongi's. It's got the most natural light, thanks to the window placement, not that it matters at this time of night. The curtains are drawn, playmat full of yellows and oranges scattered across the floor. Beside it, is Yoongi's laptop. The screensaver is running, and it's pretty obvious he'd been playing with the little toy octopus sprawled across the keyboard instead, when you had arrived.

"Bit late for nap time?" You question quietly as you pop your phone on the charging pad Yoongi keeps on the dresser.

Nodding, Yoongi gently rests his son down in his crib. These past couple of days, everything has been a little out of sync. He feels guilty—like he's failing—but the pressures he's been putting on himself are just getting far too great. He's doing the best he can, but it always feels like it's not enough.

But Jaehyun is loved, and sheltered, and provided for. Yoongi is doing all he can. He just still isn't sure he knows how to be a dad.

Which is silly, because as you watch him stroke across the dark hair that sits flat to Jaehyun's scalp, quietly monitoring his condition, you think that Yoongi was made for this. Is far more paternal than you are maternal.

Truth be told, you don't like kids all that much.

Your idea of a fun evening doesn't typically involve hanging out with an infant, and yet you'll do it for Yoongi. Of course, you will. Have known him for too long and have been through too much with him to not help him.

Plus, you really do adore Jaehyun. Sweet as can be when he sleeps, he really does look just like Yoongi at that age—or so you gather from the baby pictures you've seen a dozen times over at his parents' place. It's easier to count which features they don't share. Saves ever needing to do a paternity test, not that Yoongi would do one anyway.

Jaehyun is his kid. A little bit of DNA wouldn't change this fact, not in his eyes.

It worries you. Not because you think Yoongi isn't his father—again, they're too alike to not be related—but in case his mother decides she wants to play an active role in Jaehyun's life. You fear that the 1% of doubt could come true and tear any legal right away from Yoongi. You're not really sure how the courts would work it all out, but you doubt they'd side with him.

Yoongi was never meant to be a father. Not now, at least. The outcome of a one-night-stand, Jaehyun's biological mother didn't realise she was pregnant until it was too late. Had no real choice in the matter. Was also nearing the end of her tenure in law school. A kid was not—and remains to not be—a part of her plan.

You know the documents were signed. Legal rights, shit like that. Know that she must have an understanding of the law far greater than Yoongi. Just hope she hasn't done anything that will fuck him over in the future.

Still, it's not a topic of conversation Yoongi likes indulging in, and so you don't push, no matter how much you'd like to know the details.

"Let him sleep," Yoongi eventually sighs, before sinking down to lie on the rug. "Better he rests while I'm working—and plus, he slept through till five-thirty this morning."

"Till sunrise?" You chirp, a little surprised but conscious of keeping your voice down.

Yoongi nods, face rubbing against the carpet. "He's basically a teenager."

Rolling your eyes, you reach down for his wrist to drag him to his feet. He's got an essay to finish.

"Shut up," you smile. "You've barely stopped being a teenager."

Sometimes, it makes you a little sad to think that Yoongi is missing out on his early twenties—but then you glance across to Jaehyun and know that he's not missing anything. Just experiencing different things. That's all.

"Don't remind me," he grunts, lamely getting to his feet, letting you pull him down the hallway as you swipe the baby monitor that lives next to the charging pad. You'll come back for your phone later.

"C'mon, gotta finish your essay. Can't be a DILF unless you get this degree."

"Untrue."

"You'll just be a D without a good job," you tell him. "DILF's are always suited up."

"That's simply not true," he doubles down. "I've been told I'm a DILF at least, like, six times. Maybe more."

Definitely more. If he knew the way girls on campus spoke about him? God, his head would be so big he wouldn't be able to walk through doors.

But for now, you shoo him back through Jaehyun's bedroom door and to his sitting room-come-bedroom. The apartment isn't large. A baby monitor isn't needed, yet one is set up by Yoongi's bed, regardless.

And so, as Yoongi knuckles down with his work, you flop onto his bed, and take prime babysitting position—though you're pretty sure you'd get fired if you ever got under anyone else's sheets on the job.

But it's late, and you've worked a long shift. You're only gonna rest your eyes for a moment. A second. A fraction of one, even. Just to hydrate them a little. Replenish your—

You're out like a light.

The curse of Min Yoongi's bedsheets. You really should have known better. It happens every damn time. You know this. He knows this.

Yet when he eventually wakes you, neither of you mention it.

"Hey," Yoongi mumbles as he gently nudges your sleepy body. Flopping down beside you on top of the duvet, his exhausted eyes close instantaneously.

"I'm going, I'm going," you grumble into his duvet, half asleep but knowing that you should go and check on Jaehyun.

The baby monitor hasn't made any noise to wake you, and Yoongi's just been with him for the last twenty minutes, quietly watching on as he slept. Is pretty confident he's gonna sleep through again tonight.

Reaching out to pat you down, Yoongi doesn't really acknowledge the way he accidentally taps your ass. Nor do you. Just sort of pretend that he didn't. Pretend that it didn't make your heart race a little.

"S'fine," he says, voice muffled by his need for rest. "He's still sleeping. Just checked on him."

"Sure?"

"Mhm," Yoongi nods, the sound of his hair smooth against his sheets. "You gonna crash here?"

"You all done?" You question right back. Shuffle, and his hand lazily moves with you. His wrist now rests on your hip, and you both pretend like it's normal.

"All done," he confirms. "Was late, so I've lost ten percent, but whatever."

For someone who stresses himself out as much as Yoongi does over his grades, as soon as he's hit the submission button, he just ceases to care. Has a 'what'll be, will be' attitude towards it all. Part of you wishes he would adopt that mentality when he's actually writing his essays.

What you don't realise is that it manifests from the same fear.

He panics and panics and panics before a deadline—and then is so worried about his grade that he just pretends like they don't exist.

Too sleepy to care at this moment in time, Yoongi's placement of his wrist on your hip becomes more intentional. Deliberate.

It's not like you're a stranger to the weight of Yoongi's arms draped over your body. Not like it's the first time—it's just every time it does happen, you swear it'll be the last.

It never is.

And it's not like it's anything illicit. Not anything you shouldn't be doing. Nothing that takes you beyond the realms of friendship—but it does threaten the integrity of your oldest connection to another human outside of familial ties.

So every time Yoongi gets a little too close, or you find yourself lingering a little long on his words, you tell yourself to stop. That this is just a symptom of the dry spell you've been going through.

"Are you staying here tonight?" He asks.

Again, it wouldn't be the first time. Have been having sleepovers with him since you were kids. Ghost stories, midnight feasts. Sneaking out to the park to find UFOs and stopping by the corner shop for snacks.

Once high school hit, it was deemed unwise by your parents. Open door policy.

You'd been furious. Outraged that your privacy was being taken from you, and being told it was for your own good.

And so sneaking out the park became sneaking in windows; films watched with headphones on, dinner eaten in your bedroom under the guise of a melodramatic teenage strop, but actually shared with the boy from two doors down who knew better than to deceive your parents.

All innocent. Nothing that required a closed door. Those escapades were saved for—or wasted on—other people. Either, or. Neither you nor Yoongi gave it much thought. Why would you?

Friends, is what you were. What you are. What you always have been.

Which begs the question: why the fuck is Yoongi looking at you like that?

But then the wrist of Yoongi's resting on your hip becomes his hand. The grip becomes intentional. The stillness of your body comes not from tiredness, but from trepidation.

"Do you want me to?"

"It's late," he husks, thumb stroking against your hip as if that's what friends do. "You're off tomorrow, right? Don't need to go home?"

"Right."

"Well, then stay," he shrugs, loosening his grip to roll onto his back. The ceiling is far less interesting than you are, but he has to stop looking at your lips and wondering if they taste like the strawberry lip balm you'd tossed on the side cabinet earlier. "Makes sense."

"Stay?" You question as if he still needs to clearly outline that, yes, he'd like you to stay. "And do what?"

"Sleep," he dryly replies, because it's the obvious answer. Because it's what you should do. You're tired. He's tired. Jaehyun is asleep in the next room over.

"Sleep," you nod. "Sounds good."

Domestication becomes you in times like these. A toothbrush sits in an old glass on the top shelf of Yoongi's mirrored bathroom cabinet. The rest of the shelves are pretty much empty, but he always puts it up there. Says it annoys him anywhere else.

"Surely it's more annoying having to get it down for me every time I crash here?" You banter with him as you lean against the back wall of his bathroom, waiting for him to retrieve it.

Plucking it from the glass, Yoongi is swift with his movements, and the way he wets the brush, puts a pearl of toothpaste on the bristles, then hands it back over to you.

"Doesn't bother me," he shrugs, turning back around to shut the cabinet. When he does, he's greeted with your eyes in the mirror, and a feeling in his stomach that should bother him.

See, the D in Yoongi's DILF actually stands for dependable (although occasionally dickhead also fits). He likes being asked to do things. Likes being helpful. Useful. Knows that he depends on you far more than you do him, and so he does this to settle the score.

You help him pass his exams, and he helps you keep good dental hygiene habits. A win-win situation.

Leaving you to finish washing up, Yoongi does the final checks of his apartment. Bolts the door. Turns out the lights. Makes sure Jaehyun's day bag is packed for tomorrow with his Grandma. Adds the day's clothes to the laundry pile. Stands in the doorframe of Jaehyun's room to just simply watch his son exist for a little while longer.

He loses track of time doing this. It's a nightly routine, so you think he'd get used to it, but he never does. Still can't fully comprehend that a living, breathing creature relies on him for basic survival.

Sure, he hides your toothbrush away, and puts things out of reach for you just to get you asking him for help, but this is different. He cares about nothing more than making sure Jaehyun is surrounded by abundance: love, shelter, food. Everything the world has to offer, Yoongi wants for his son—and that's why he's working so damn hard to make sure it happens.

There's a tenderness to how Yoongi strokes your back when you stand beside him. He's far gentler than he used to be. Benevolent with age. Isn't the same kid who used to chase you around his parent's yard with a worm in one hand, and a pile of mud in the other.

"C'mon," you whisper, walking away because you know you need to break the contact. "Let's rest."

Yoongi nods. Is slow as he tears his gaze from his son, but just as stoic as he watches you saunter down the hallway and into your bedroom for the night. His bedroom.

You slip out of sight, just in time for Yoongi to exhale the air in his lungs. His sigh is full of unspoken words. Uncertain terms—and as he follows you down, he wonders how many more secrets will bloat his lungs throughout the night.

966 notes · View notes

mountainficss · 3 months

Note

thinking about phone sex with sub minghao!! sounds ethereal

ANON…YOU’RE GONNA MAKE ME GO FERAL WITH THIS IDEA…

i love sub!minghao oh my gosh.

you’d be away on a business trip and receive a facetime from him while you’re in your hotel room, answering the call to see a sad looking minghao. he was holding your pillow tightly in his free arm, his plump lips turned downwards into a slight frown. he’d shyly mutter about how he misses you, and asks you to tell him about your day. you’d begin telling him about the boring meetings you had to attend, and would start ranting about an annoying man that rudely bumped into you in the hotel lobby and didn’t apologize. he’d nod slowly, his face red as he listens to you explain your day in detail. you’d glance down at the screen again, taking in his disheveled looking appearance and stopping mid sentence. “hao,” you’d start, noticing him jump slightly at the sound of his name. “hm?” he’d hum quietly, gripping your pillow tighter in his free hand. “you okay?” you’d question, watching him nod slightly and let out a small affirming mhm at your prodding. you’d notice his eyes slightly roll back when he thinks you aren’t looking, and you’d hear him exhale quietly through his nose. he must think you’re stupid. “can’t believe you’re humping my pillow,” you’d speak so nonchalantly he’d almost completely missed what you said. he’d stare at you dumbfounded, a look of fear morphing over his precious face. “you’re so dirty.” he’d whimper slightly, no longer trying to make his movements subtle now that you knew what he was up to. “s-sorry,” he’d sigh, knuckles turning white from how hard he was gripping your pillow. “i just miss you, ‘n it smelled like you, and i-i love your voice—ah~” he’d trail off, eyes rolling back once again from the friction against his clothed bulge. you couldn’t see anything below his arm, so you’d command him to set his phone up and show you properly. he’d do as you say, propping his phone up with a different pillow so you could see him clutching yours in his arms. “cute,” you’d murmur sweetly, and you’d see him blush bright red through the screen. “now show me what you were doing, baby.” he’d tug his lower lip between his teeth, setting your pillow down onto the bed and mounting it. he’d lean in close and thrust slowly on top of it, balling the fabric of the pillowcase in his fists from how good it feels. his hips would move so sensually, grinding his neglected erection against the soft fabric as he imagined it was you. “strip for me, pretty,” you’d coax. “it’ll feel so much better if you do.” he’d nod once, tugging his shirt over his head and carefully sliding out of his boxers. he was completely bare now, shyly covering his chest, his cock red and dripping precum. you’d tell him to keep going, undoing the buttons to your night shirt teasingly. his breath would hitch watching you, lowering his body back down on top of the pillow and letting out a small gasp at the feeling of the fabric on his bare cock. the friction felt so good to him as he rutted into your pillow, moans and pants falling from his lips from the sensation. “feel good, baby?” you’d smile, sliding the shirt off your shoulders and running your hands down your body, working yourself up. “w-wan’ it to be you,” he choked out, his cock drooling all over your pillow and gliding across the slick fabric. “wanna be inside y-you like this. i miss you.” he’d sob. you couldn’t help but coo at his sweet words. “aww. you never talk like this, sweet boy,” you’d purr, sliding off your panties and ghosting your fingers over your heat. minghao was usually too shy to tell you what he wanted. “must really miss me, huh? saying such dirty things.” he’d nod quickly, flipping over to lay on his back and pressing the pillow on top of his cock. he’d fuck up into the makeshift slit he made by folding the pillow in half, thrusting into it roughly as he let out lewd sounds. he’d hold the pillow in place with one hand, snaking a hand up to his chest to rub circles onto his nipples. “need you to touch me,” he’d whine out, rolling the buds between his index and thumb. “need you to come home.”

he’d make eye contact with you through the screen, sighing dreamily as he watches you play with yourself. you’d slide two fingers into your soaked heat, propping your phone up so minghao could see all of you. “i’ll come home to you soon, pretty,” you’d hum, feeling the pleasureful stretch of your fingers hitting your sweet spot. he’d whimper pathetically, pinching his nipple harshly and bucking his hips up into the pillow from the sensation. “need you now,” he’d complain, dragging his hand up to his neck and settling it there, trying his hardest to imagine it was yours. he’d relive the moments where you’d have your hand on his neck as you ride him, squeezing it slightly just to make him feel lightheaded. it wouldn’t feel the same, but the poor baby would pretend ;( his orgasm would build up surprisingly fast, a sharp gasp leaving his lips as he grabs your pillow with both hands now. his movements would become messy, hips rutting irregularly as he chased his high. “god…g-gonna cum…” he’d stutter, the friction from the fabric threatening to break him. “cum, pretty,” you’d encourage him, quickly approaching your release as well. “‘m so close because of you. cum with me.” your words would be his end, holding your pillow against his throbbing cock as ropes of seed shoot onto the pillow and his tense stomach. seeing him cum would send you over the edge, throwing your head back from the pleasure. you’d feel your hole tighten around your fingers, orgasm still ebbing through your body as you both come down from your highs. “miss you…love you so much,” he’d mumble groggily, his eyes slowly drooping closed against his will as he begins to doze off. “i love you more, hao,” you’d breathe, admiring the sight of his gentle sleepy form. you’d start to drift too, the intensity of your release and the comfort of knowing that minghao was next to you was enough to send your body into a relaxed state. he’d fall asleep gripping your pillow still, the scent of you and him mixed together making him the happiest baby alive ;(

taglist: @imprettyweird , @jeonghanpill , @bangantokchy , @caratboy , @bewoyewo , @c-hanniehae , @wonvsmile , @haolovre , @aaniag

#thoughts #seventeen #seventeen smut #smut #svt smut #sub!idol #minghao smut #xu minghao #minghao #the8 #svt minghao #mountainficss

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0nlythrowharrybeaux · 1 year

Text

A Good Fit**

Brother's best friend trope! I'm really, really happy with this one! I was inspired by the picture above. I was also stoned when I started this so it’s very horny 🫠

Warnings: Cheating, female masturbation, age gap (7yrs), dirty talk, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, slight breeding kink, choking/breathplay, slight degradation, size kink.

WC: 8.3K

Unfortunately for Harry it wasn’t uncommon that you show up at his place after you’ve had a fight with your boyfriend. So when he heard the knocks on the door he knew it was you from the call you had made earlier from a random number and you asked him if he could send you an uber since your phone was dead. He hurried over and let you in. And as he took your appearance in you didn’t look sad you just looked angry.

“Hey, you alright?” He asked and you exhaled sharply and nodded.

“I am now. Just…needed to get out of there.” You said and he nodded.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“After? I just need to think for a bit. Do you mind if I shower and borrow something to sleep in?”

“Not at all, come on.” He said and guided you through his apartment, “F’you need anything else just shout for me.”

“Yeah, thank you Har.”

“Course.” He hummed before he shut the door to the bathroom and headed off to the kitchen to make some tea.

Harry knew your family because of your older brother. When he did an exchange program during his undergrad years Harry’s family was his host family and they quickly became friends. Then, Harry came to the states for grad school and to work so he was roommates with your brother for about 4 years, which is when you and your family met him. And well that leads to the present! At the end of your 3rd year of university you got offered a spot in a very lucrative and once-in-a-lifetime international cohort and internship opportunity for your final year, and that’s why you moved to London last July. The only reason your parents even allowed you to do this was because they knew someone in London now, that was Harry. He had just turned 30, like your brother, and well your parents knew that you guys got along and that he was a nice guy so they felt comfortable letting you go alone knowing that he was nearby.

Harry was a really cool guy, but despite that you intended to steer as far away from his as possible because you didn’t need a babysitter. You were 23, soon to be 24! But when the homesickness started to hit you sought him out and he was always so welcoming and comforting and sweet. He knew this shop where they’d sell American treats, he’d take you there sometimes even though it was quite far away, since he had a car. And when you’d be sick or feeling under the weather he’d make you food and bring you medicine…he looked after you and soon you started to spend more time with him. He was actually the reason why you even started dating your boyfriend, Charlie. Charlie was 31, handsome, mature, had a great job…he was really romantic and detail oriented, he just did anything he could to make you happy and for a while things were really, really good. But over the last few months he has been so awful, picking fights for no reason, starting to get aggressive out of no where, flaking on you or just going unheard of for days at a time. The party tonight was a colleague’s birthday party and he had invited you to make up for a fight you’d had earlier in the week over some naked pictures he had recently saved of some girl on his phone. You had a feeling that he was cheating or that something big was off for a while so tonight, when you caught a glimpse of him slipping into a room with that girl from the pictures on his phone you just decided to leave.

You had just finished explaining this to Harry as you sat across from him at his kitchen island in his big, baggy t-shirt and a pair of striped briefs. You hadn’t even touched your tea as you ranted about how awful he had been all week.

“Date older! They said…they’re more mature…s’a bunch of BS.” You finished with a huff.

“Yeah, unfortunately older doesn’t necessarily mean wiser…” he said softly, “I’m sorry all that happened. You do deserve better.”

“I know I do, that’s why I’m not gonna cry about it.”

“Well if you feel like crying you should.” He said and you smiled and shook your head.

“No, I don’t feel sad. That’s the weird thing, like I just feel…stupid I guess for not…snapping out of this sooner.” You explained, “Like…” you stoped to lick over your lips and snigger, “I’ve praised this guy up and down as if he fucking hung up the sun and moon and bragged about him to my parents and when they come for graduation in 2 weeks he’s not even gonna be around!” You sniggered with embarrassment, “God, I’m such a fucking mess.” You groaned as you covered your face with your palms and he huffed.

“Hey, none of that. You’re not stupid and you’re not a mess. You’re just…young.” He said with a little shrug and you pouted a bit.

“OK why do you say it in a condescending manner though?” You asked and he sighed.

“Y/N, I’m not. I’m just saying that…when you’re young you don’t…you just don’t have any foresight sometimes. Like your brain isn’t even fully developed yet!” He argued factually and you crossed your arms with a scoff.

“So you are saying I’m stupid.”

“No! God, stop putting words in my mouth!” He said back with a flustered laugh and you were not sure what was so amusing about this, you were getting upset at him now.

“I’m not! I’m just trying to figure out what it is you’re implying by telling me that I’m just young and have an underdeveloped brain!” You nearly shouted and he sighed.

“Keep it down, please. I have neighbors.” He warned and you looked at him expectantly and he tutted, “I’m just trying to say that you’re a little…naive.” He finished and you looked at him like he was insane.

“I’m not naive, Harry.” You said and he looked at you like you had grown another head, “I’m not naive!” You said louder.

“Raising your voice doesn’t make what you’re saying correct.” He said calmly and you were boiling over with rage. You knew he wasn’t being smug about it or anything but he clearly was about to school you if you kept pushing this argument. But you were also very certain that he had you all wrong.

“Then stop calling me naive!”

“I don’t know why you think that’s such an awful thing, Y/N. You’re young, you’re supposed to be naive like…I don’t see the problem.”

“The problem is that naïveté implies that someone is clueless! And I’m not clueless!”

“Not about everything, but there are just things that you do that…show your age.” Is all he said and you pouted.

“OK, like what?”

“Like you dating an older man because he’s gonna be “more mature”, like please, Y/N! Age really is just a number.” He stated with a dry and obvious tone and you scoffed at him, “Or like a few weeks ago when he asked you for money and you gave him, a grown ass man, your money and then had to ask me for rides because you couldn’t reload your tube pass!” He said.

“His car got towed and he lost his wallet!” You defended.

“What kind of mature, responsible man gets so fucking shit faced that he looses his car and his wallet?” Harry asked and you just bit the inside of your cheek as you glared at him, “And you found naked pictures on his phone a few days ago and didn’t end it then?” He questioned.

“Maybe I misinterpreted things or-”

“Or maybe you just turn a blind eye to logic and go against your better judgement because you’re too caught up in whatever illusion he’s weaved for you that you doubt your instincts. That proves that you are naive and imprudent and that, more than anything else, just shows how young you are.” He said. The way you were looking at him kind of blankly made him nervous, maybe he had taken this too far, but it just frustrated him that you chose these things for yourself when you were far more intelligent than that. You pushed reason aside for fun sometimes and it was getting you hurt, which was very imprudent of you, and he wanted that to stop. He wanted you to stop doing this to yourself.

“God, why couldn’t you have told me this sooner!” You groaned with irritation as you crumbled up the napkin he laid out for you and tossed it at his chest. He glanced down at where you hit him with the paper and then back to you with a relieved smile.

“I just…didn’t want to overstep. Like what you choose to do is not my business to meddle in you know. And I get that some people just…learn the hard way. Like when I was younger the last thing I wanted was for someone slightly older to try and give me advice or something when like…experiences will help you learn too and-”

“Jut because you were like that when you were young it doesn’t mean I am.” You interrupted him with a smug smile and he smiled as well.

“Yeah, I…can see that now.” He said softly and you bit your lip as he just looked in your eyes for a bit more. It was making you feel concerned and small under his scrutiny but then he just looked away and shook his head, “Well, I’m gonna get back to bed, but if you need anything just knock or intrude or whatever.” He said and you just nodded dumbly as he started to leave the kitchen.

As soon as he left you shifted in your seat and then froze at the feeling of you completely drenched in his briefs. Yes, Harry was so nice to look at but you had always kind of seen him as like another older brother. Yeah, you’d had a saucy dream or two of him, but it’d never been more than that, it had never been whatever was suddenly going on in your panties. You shifted a bit in your seat and pressed your hips down and your bit your lip at the friction of the rounded edge of the high stool rubbing right against your slit. You wriggled around a bit to try and get some friction right on your clit and right when you found the position you couldn’t help the soft gasp that left your mouth as you started to hump against it a little harder. One of your hands was gripping the counter and then other the edge of the stool as you ground yourself against it a bit more, your eyes screwed shut as you focused on the feeling of the material of Harry’s briefs starting to stick to your pussy the more you humped against the stool. You started to grunt breathily as the pleasure inside of you started to build and blossom. Suddenly you felt two big hands on your hips, stopping your movements and you gasped in surprise.

“Imprudent.” Harry’s husky voice tickled at the shell of your ear, “See. You don’t have any foresight. You don’t think of the consequences of your actions.” He said and you swallowed thickly, “I mean, did you even stop to think that you’re in my flat? Humping your little pussy on my furniture?” He questioned and you shook your head, “Didn’t think so.” He said, “What’s got you so worked up anyway that you didn’t even have the decency to wait to get into bed?”

“I don’t know. After you left I w-was gonna put this in the sink and I…I was so wet.” You confessed. Mentally you were begging that he’d do something to you. Anything, you’d take anything. Harry smirked at your confession.

“A little degradation kink perhaps…” he said and your arms became covered in goosebumps, “Did you even know until now?” He asked and you shook your head.

“No. I didn’t even think that I would-”

“Get so wet while I insulted your intelligence?” He asked and you nodded and swallowed thickly. He didn’t ask, you just suddenly felt his hand release your hip only for him to wedge it between your legs. You sighed in relief as he felt how soaked in your arousal the thin material of his briefs were, “Fuck.” He groaned, “If there’s anything good about being young it’s this.” He said as he rubbed your sticky mess into you, you were holding as still as possible, still in shock that this was happening, “Young pussy get’s so fucking wet.” He sighed as he nipped at your earlobe, you were covered in goosebumps, “It keeps getting wetter and wetter the more you play with it.” He hummed in amusement, “Should I keep playing with it?” He asked and you nodded quickly and he smirked, “Tell me then.” You huffed.

“Harry-”

“Don’t whine. Tell me you want me to touch and play with your pussy.” He breathed out and you whimpered, “Please, babygirl. I need to hear you say it, been dying to hear you say it for ages.” He breathed out hard against you.

“Please, touch my pussy. I need you to touch me.” You whimpered and he sighed in relief before turning you around hoisting you up onto the counter. His eyes met yours and the look in them was dark, his pupils were enlarged, and his breathing ragged.

“You’re sure about this?” He asked and you shook your head with a smile.

“No. Are you?” You whispered as his hands ran up and down your thighs and he smiled back.

“No. But I…want to. It’s just…your brother would kill me. Like I’m totally betraying his trust.” He said and you smiled.

“Yeah, he’d be pretty pissed. I like to piss him off though, it’s fun.” You said and bit your lip as he shook his head at your antics, “Don’t give me that, you’re the baby brother, you know how gratifying it is to get under your sibling’s skin.” You said.

“Yeah when I was a child.” He emphasized with a grin and you hummed.

“Then…do it for yourself. After all, you’ve been waiting to play with my pussy for ages, right?” You asked coyly and he chuckled nervously, “How long, hmm?” You asked softly as you draped your arms over his shoulders to minimize the space between you two. He let it diminish as he glanced up in your eyes, “How long, Harry?” You asked again, more pointedly this time and he sighed as his fingers dug into your thighs.

“At mine and your brother’s graduation party. I went inside to get more pool towels and when I passed by the laundry room I heard you and your boyfriend in there. You didn’t fully close the door and I…saw him, very briefly, fingering you.” He said as you smirked, “You sounded so pretty, I just wanted to get in there and make you feel a lot better. Knew I could’ve made you feel better than him.” He confessed and you smiled, you didn’t even remember that happening until he brought it up. You had just finished your first year of college then.

“Really think you could’ve done a better job?” You asked and he almost looked at you in offense.

“I know so. Also know that prick Charlie wouldn’t stand a chance against me.” He stated confidently and you smiled as you just took him in. He really was gorgeous, you’d talked yourself out of crushing on him a lot, especially when you were younger…but now with him so close to you…with his hand having been between your legs…with the very obvious bulge of his boner grazing your right inner thigh everything you had done to not have those feelings for him was completely ruined. You wanted him, you wanted him so fucking bad.

“Show me then.” You said and he looked over your eyes again, “I know we probably shouldn’t but I need it. I need you so badly.” You said softly and he hummed in contemplation. He wanted this too, so badly…his cock was so hard for you. He wanted to show you what he could do; he wanted you to think about it and him between your legs and to get drenched like you were now every time the memory resurfaced, which he would make sure was a lot. This was his one and only chance…

“Just this once.” He decided and you nodded.

“Yeah, just once.”

“Here or in my bedroom?” He asked and you nodded.

“The room if that’s OK. I’ll even go to the guest bedroom after, I promise.” You said and he didn’t wait another moment before he pulled your face in and kissed you. It was sloppy and needy and so fucking desperate that it was making your body even more aroused for him. You loved how big his hands felt on you. You knew he was strong and he could do anything he wanted to you and something about that gave you relief.

“Hold on tight.” He muttered before picking you up and carrying you the short distance to his bedroom. He kicked the door shut once he made it through the threshold and carefully dropped you onto his bed. You almost moaned just from feeling the bed beneath you, it was so big and soft and cuddly. You never wanted to get up! “Get naked.” He said and you sat up in the dark and tore off his shirt and his briefs, you then hugged your legs to your chest to cover yourself a bit as you waited for him. You could barely make him out standing at the side of the bed, suddenly the side lamp flicked on, “I need to see, want to remember you.” He said as he turned to you again, “Show me your body.” He said softly and you slowly let go and then laid down on his bed. His eyes took in your face, your chest, your stomach, your hips, your labia… but he wanted more, “Open your legs f’me, spread them. Show me your little pussy.” He instructed and you nervously started to part your legs as he started to kneel. He wanted to be face level with your pussy, “Fuck, look at you. Such a pretty little thing.” He huffed and your skin rose with goosebumps, “Can already see you dripping.” He chuckled breathily.

“M’so wet for you, Harry.” You whispered and he hummed.

“I know, babygirl. Show it all to me, hold yourself open for me.” He said as he glanced up into your eyes and you felt your fingers tense, you were feeling nervous and timid, “Go on, babygirl. You can’t be shy about this if you weren’t shy about humping my stool in the open kitchen.” He said and you groaned.

“You’re never gonna let me live that down are you?” You asked breathily.

“Nope.” He confirmed smugly. He was very pleased with you when you brought your hands down between your legs and held your labia apart. He couldn’t help but lick his lips and salivate at the sight of your exposed and spread pussy. It was small and cute, your little clit was swollen and he was aching to suck on it. Then your tight little entrance…it was making him feral. His cock would definitely stretch you open and leave you with a memorable ache; an ache he knew you wanted. He watched your little hole pulsing in perfect time with his heartbeat. He couldn’t help himself as he delved into your pussy tongue first.

“H-harry!” You gasped as he groaned against you and stuffed his tongue inside of you as far as he could. You were squirming until he held your thighs open and started thrusting his tongue in and out of your entrance. You were so sensitive right there and it made you whimper when he started to just lick at and over your hole.

“Hold yourself open for me.” He mumbled as he reared back and then he spat against your pussy. You dropped your head back into the bed as he started to lick you up from top to bottom, he was avoiding your clit though and it was making you go insane. Every part of your pussy was being toyed with except where you were desperate for his touch. He knew what he was doing though as he chuckled and said something about it throbbing. You didn’t need to see it to believe it, you could feel it throbbing steadily.

“Harry, please! Please make me come!” You keened, “Please, please, please, please.” You whimpered as he continued to suck and slurp and lave all over you until finally, he started to mercilessly flick at your clit with the tip of his tongue. Your legs almost immediately started to shake and you dug your fingers into his hair, “Oh fuck!” You cried out. But as soon as he started to suck at your clit you lost all ability to speak. All you could do was gasp and shriek and mutter incoherent nonsense as each little slurp and suckle pulled you closer and closer into orgasmic bliss. When you started to wind up you tugged hard on Harry’s hair and he groaned against you.

“More.” He grunted and so you did it again, harder and his moans only added to your pleasure. He was so consistent, staying at the perfect pace until you started to come undone. Your back arched as you tried to kick him away with your shaking legs, but he was holding them down harshly and sucking and licking you until you had completely withered.

“Oh shit…” you sighed in contentment and just as you had begun to relax your body tensed back up when he nipped at your clit. He held you down as the stimulation continued until you were trembling and coming beneath him and crying out for him to stop. But he didn’t stop yet. It was hard to breathe and your head was spinning as he pulled you through yet another orgasm, you felt so out of sorts as your legs twitched and you hiccuped for a proper breath.

“Fuck…y’just taste so good, babygirl.” His words vibrated against your throbbing cunt and made you wince, “S’alright. I know it’s sensitive.” He hummed before kissing your inner thighs and then working his way up your body. His hands explored your dips and curves expertly and you raised your body to follow the movements of his hands along your skin. When he got to your breasts he was teasing with his mouth, winding you up until your already fucked out pussy was thrusting up, searching for his big bulge to rub against. You thought you were spent, but you needed so much more. Your lust for him kept growing and growing, it was consuming you entirely.

When his lips finally met yours again and his center aligned with yours you felt relief; he felt big, you had yet to see his cock but he was heavy against you and it was exhilarating. He ground himself against you, working himself up. There would surely be a big wet spot on his sweats but something told you he wouldn’t mind it. The way he was kissing you was communicating very clearly that he had indeed been waiting for a long time to have this opportunity with you.

“Please, Harry just do it.” You whined breathily, so impatient and eager to feel him.

“You were just begging me to stop. Make it make sense, baby.” He said with a smug grin and you wanted to slap it off his face but the way he looked in your eyes playfully and called you ‘baby’ made you reconsider. So instead of firing back some bratty retort you stayed quiet despite an evident pout overwhelming your features. “Don’t look at me like that, I’ll give it to you, just waiting a little bit.”

“For what?” You asked.

“Don’t you get so overwhelmed that you go a little numb? Read that can happen.” He asked with raised brows and you nodded.

“Yeah, a little bit…” you said as you thought about it.

“Don’t want to be doing things just for the heck of it, want you to actually feel good when I…you know?” He said more timidly and you smirked at him.

“When you what?” You asked.

“What?” He questioned you.

“You said you want it to feel good when you…and then you trailed off into something else.” You teased and he shook his head with a bashful smile.

“You know very well what.”

“Oh come on, just say it. You can’t be all shy about it when you’re about to… you know?” You mimicked him with a grin and he rolled his eyes, “This isn’t instilling a lot of confidence in me…” you hummed.

“Oh please, you nearly passed out from my oral.” Harry countered and your facade broke as you nodded.

“True…excellent oral, by the way… probably the best I’ve ever received.” You mused and he smirked.

“Is that so?”

“Yeah actually, I’d never lie to you about that.”

“About my oral skills?” He asked with a smile and you nodded, “Well, I really enjoyed doing that to you too…probably also one of my favorite times.”

“Probably?” You asked in mock offense and he shrugged.

“Well I can’t tell you the truth! Knowing you, it’ll go straight to your head, s’already too big.” He said with a smile and you hummed.

“Speaking of big heads…” you said with a grin as you rubbed up against him and he chuckled through the little shock of pleasure he received when you ground up against his stiff and aching cock. “Can I touch you while we wait for the numbness to wear off?” You asked as you slowly let your fingers slither down his chest and then circle where you knew his butterfly tattoo was.

“Absolutely not.” He said and you glanced up into his eyes with a frown.

“Harry-”

“I will blow my fucking load in like 30 seconds, OK? I just need to calm down a little bit before I get inside of you.” He confessed and you smirked.

“Oh…”

“None of that smug shit.” He scolded.

“That’s all you do to me! Just be smug and clever and shit!” You reminded with a giggle and he smiled.

“You take it well, I don’t.” He pointed and you hummed smugly.

“Yeah, I take a lot of things well…” you slipped in a little innuendo just for the fun of it and he smiled down at you with a “really?” Look painted across his very handsome and chiseled face. “Well let’s talk about something not sexy to calm you down then.” You said and he hummed in agreement as he then laid beside you and you turned to face him. Your legs trapped one of his in between them and he looked a little concerned, “Don’t worry, I’m not like…trying to make this sentimental or anything I just like how like…how your body hair feels against me. Like it tickles and it’s just a sensory thing I suppose.” You shrugged and he hummed in understanding as you ran one of your legs along his. He kinda had a similar thing he supposed because he wanted to run his hands all over your legs, they were so soft and smooth under his touch.

“What were you gonna talk about before you got distracted by my leg hair?” He asked with a smile and you sniggered as you looked into his eyes.

“If you’ve wanted this for a while why haven’t you tried before?” You asked and he shrugged.

“I just figured that when I felt that way for you it was because you like looked hot that day or something, I never really gave my horny fantasies much weight, you know? But ummm… I think with you being around more and us getting better acquainted like…I’ve realized that I am actually physically attracted to you.” He admitted and you nodded in understanding, “Have you…wanted this before?”

“Ummm…no? I don’t know, really… I’ve always thought you were hot. And I’ve had a couple sex dreams about you though. So clearly, subconsciously, you’ve been on my “to do” list.” You smirked at your pun and he sniggered and shook his head.

“Are these recent dreams?”

“One of them, yeah.” You said and he hummed as he brought a hand to your hip and he let his fingers trace a little further back to your ass as he caressed you, “Oh, I think I’m having a deja vu.” You said and he chuckled.

“Really?” He asked and out of nowhere he smacked your ass hard and you laughed through a surprised shriek, “Liar. You didn’t see that coming did you?” He chuckled.

“Admittedly no. But do you want to know who I did see coming?” You asked with a teasing grin, “Rather prematurely, I must s-” you were cut off by your own laughter as Harry rolled on top of you and started to tickle your sides as you writhed around laughing and gasping for air until he stopped. It was then that you both noticed that one of his hands was laying on your sternum, limiting your intake of oxygen.

“Sorry.”

“It’s alright I don’t mind that…I mean it’s not typically where it goes but-”

“Is that better?” He cut you off as his hand slid up to your throat and squeezed at the sides just a little bit and you nodded as best as you could. You loved that slightly floaty feeling that came when you were choked. It made everything feel better, you came for longer, and way harder, “I like this too.” He hummed as he lowered himself now and then kissed you deeply. Your world was spinning as your mouths met eagerly and sloppily, you just wanted to taste any part of him that you could. You could tell that he wanted that too, but he was holding back somehow, you could just feel it inside that there was so much more to explore, “Fuck it if it’s fast, you’ll come. I promise you will.” He grunted and you grabbed his face.

“Also remember, I already came three times so asking for a fourth might be a little much.” You said realistically and he shook his head.

“I want you to come around my cock, Y/N. Need to feel you coming around me.” He said huskily and something told you that whether you intended to or not, you would be coming around his cock and that made you all the more excited. He hadn’t stretched you out at all and so the prospect of getting stretched around his cock was extremely arousing.

Harry rolled off of the bed to strip his top off and peel his sweats off of his body and your mouth watered at the look and size of him; of course he had a beautiful cock. Yeah, he was on the bigger end of things lengthwise, but what you knew would make it good was the girth of it. His cock was thick and heavy; it probably even looked bigger because of how lean and toned he was, but that didn’t bother you in the slightest. Your mouth watered as you watched him grab himself and stroke back his foreskin to expose the already leaking tip of his cock. After a few more strokes he pulled open the bedside drawer and before he could even search you reached out and stopped his hand.

“I have the shot and I’m clean.” You said and he glanced to you. “I am too and it’s not that I don’t trust you, we just really should use protection.” He said and you did look a bit disappointed at this but nodded.

“You’re right. Sorry if I-”

“It’s alright. Why don’t you want to?” He asked and you shook your head.

“Just wanted to really feel it all, you know? But it is reckless and-”

“Why don’t you want to use a condom, Y/N?” He asked you again more firmly but there was a ghost of a smile on his lips.

“I just told you!”

“Tell the truth.” he said and you swallowed thickly as he climbed back over your body and ground against you and you whimpered at his precum making your clit all sticky as it beaded out of his tip.

“I want to feel you come inside me.” You said softly, “It was in my dream and I just remembered that when you went to grab a condom.” You admitted and he grunted lowly as his eyes closed for a second, just processing the information.

“I can’t finish inside of you, Y/N.”

“I know.” You said with a huff and he mulled over his desires in his head.

“I’ll go bare but I’m gonna pull out though, OK?” He compromised and you nodded.

“Yeah, that’s fine.” You agreed and he glanced down to where his cock rested over your core. He pushed through your folds once again and you both moaned softly at the wet sounds of your arousal-soaked skin gliding together. You propped yourself up on your elbows to watch this as well, you never wanted to forget this, not a single detail of it. You were so wet for him it was unreal. As soon as you positioned yourself to watch him tease your little cunt he stopped watching himself and just watched your face. You were hanging on by the thread. He started to guide himself down to your entrance and rubbed his tip against you, not pressing with enough pressure to try and stretch you open, but just to tease you and himself. Fuck, you were gonna be a snug fit, “D-do you think it’ll actually fit?” You asked as you glanced up at him and swallowed thickly. You asked because just feeling his head against your entrance made you question it because he hadn’t even stretched you out.

“It’ll fit.” He assured you, trying his best not to get too carried away that you thought his cock was so big it wouldn’t fit inside of you, “If not, we’ll make it fit.” He said as he looked at you and you bit your lip in response as a wave of excitement rushed through your body, “Does that turn you on?” He asked and you nodded, “Good babygirl, want you all bent out of shape for my cock.” He said lowly as he started to press his cock against your entrance and you whimpered as your entrance started to stretch around him to accommodate his size. You couldn’t look away as he gently prodded himself against you, coaxing your little hole open for him. It was driving you insane, you wanted him to just push it in, you could take it, you just needed to feel him inside.

“Har, just get it in.”

“Don’t want to hurt you.”

“I don’t care if it hurts, it’ll be fine after a little bit and-”

“I care if it hurts you.” He said and you huffed, “Patience, yeah?” He chuckled and you huffed and nodded as you just laid back instead. Watching him take his time was making you absolutely impatient.

“Yeah.” You said and he smiled. He loved how desperate you were for him, but also how he could reel you back in. You seemed to give in to him with such ease and it made him wonder if you were always like this or if this was just his effect on you. He could sleep with you again and verify…but this was a one time thing so he got that thought out of his mind immediately. After a few more goes you started to open up enough for him to push just the tip in.

“Ready?”

“Yeah.” You whispered and pressed yourself up again to watch it happen. It absolutely filled him with lust. He bit his lip hard as he added more pressure and your little hole parted and sucked him in, “Oh fuck!” You moaned and then glanced up at him to see his eyes already on yours.

Harry’s own mouth was hung open now as he struggled to breathe. You were so fucking warm and tight and wet for him. He was reeling as he started to shallowly thrust his tip into you over and over again. His abs were already tightening up. When you started to rub at your clit he groaned because you started to squeeze him.

“You’re so fucking tight, baby. Oh fuck…” he moaned lowly.

“More, please. I need more.” You whined as you fell back into the mattress and he nodded and started pushing more in, feeling you adjust as he went in deeper. This was even better than his first time, maybe because he had wanted this with you for so long, “Ohmygod.” You slurred your words and squeezed your eyes shut. You felt so stretched and full that you thought you might explode.

“Just a little more, babygirl. Just a little more and you’ll have it all inside.” He encouraged you softly with his words as he gently thrust in and out, coaxing you open around his cock with each slow but determined thrust. “Fuck yeah…” he grunted when he bottomed out without a warning and you gasped in shock at how your body just opened up, “Shit such a tight little cunt around my big cock. Told you I’d fit.” He moaned as he dipped down to hover over your face. Something about him acknowledging how big he was turned you on, “Fuuuck…such a good fit.” He panted with pleasure.

You were speechless, mind drawn a blank of everything except him and the pleasure of his cock consistently thrusting in and out of you. It was almost an out of body experience as you continued rubbing your clit as he collided with parts of you that you didn’t even know could make you feel good. It was making your breathing hitch and your legs squeeze around his hips.

“Faster?” He asked after you seemed to get used to the feeling of him and you nodded.

“And harder. Please, just a little harder.” You requested and he obliged immediately and a smile spread across your face as you tipped your head back in ecstasy, “Oh fuck, just like that, Harry!” You moaned and he chuckled, loving the sound of his name in the tone of your voice. His hips snapped harder into yours, the obscene sounds of your bodies meeting were so perfectly synched with the little grunts he’d let out when your centers collided. When you brought the fingers you’d been rubbing your clit with up to his mouth he opened up and sucked on them, wetting them some more before you put them back.

“Shit baby, you feel so good,” He smiled as he placed a hand on your throat and you smiled, “But it’s time to make you come.” He said and you nodded.

“Please make me come.” You whispered breathily and he snapped at your feeble request and started pounding into you like that was his only purpose in life. You squeaked out in surprise at the sudden burst of intensity, but you easily succumbed to the pleasure that started to spread from deep in your belly and to the rest of your body. Harry was overwhelmed with just how perfect you were for him, even into the same things he was into so far. He needed to make sure that he ruined you for anyone else. Selfishly, he wanted to be the man you compared everyone else to. He knew that boys your age couldn’t even compare and that got him off.

“Gonna ruin this little pussy.” He groaned and you moaned in response, “Want you dripping for me every time we see each other. Want you to have more dreams about me and my cock now that you’ve had it.” His words were muffled as he pressed his lips to your forehead. You were all his for tonight, just this one night and he was going to take full advantage of that. “Fuck babygirl, y’just feel so fucking good.” He groaned and started going harder. You moaned each time his cock buried itself inside of you until your legs were trembling, he started to squeeze around your throat and your head started to get all fuzzy as your eyes welled up with tears of pleasure.

“M’close! So close!” You gasped pitifully as you rubbed your clit faster.

“Yeah, I can feel it, babygirl.” He panted, “Come for me. All over my cock, need to feel it.” He muttered desperately. Your body started to tense up even more and your other hand scratched down his back in a desperate attempt to be a bit more grounded as your orgasm started to burst through you; you were squirting. This had never happened to you like this and it was otherworldly. You felt like you were transcending and your vision was going splotchy as you gasped for air that you didn’t have access to. Every part of you was tingling and as soon as you felt your core tighten up for the last time an involuntary and broken cry left your throat as you started to come. You were just moaning, no words were being formed, just sounds as the waves of pleasure started to ripple through you endlessly so it seemed. Harry removed his hand from your throat and bored his face against it, kissing you, tasting you there, milking the pleasure before he had to pull out of you.

“Fuck. Oh fuck…” he moaned lowly as he started to thrust faster, chasing his own released. Your legs crossed around his hips and pulled him deeper, which made you wince but he moaned into your throat at the hot and spongey spot that his tip was kissing with each desperate thrust.

“Please come inside me.” You whimpered and he practically whined against your sweaty skin.

“Baby-”

“Please, I want it so bad. Give it to me, please.” You begged. He really wanted to come inside of you. Make you his in every sense. He kissed your lips messily and nodded.

“Shit babygirl, I’ll give you my cum.” He panted and his steady rhythm started to falter and his breathing started to hitch, “Oh fuck, take it, babygirl. Take all my fucking cum.” He moaned desperately against your mouth as he started to unravel. You moaned as you felt each twitch of his cock inside of you. The wet sounds got louder and his thrusts got slower but rougher as he shot his load deep in your pussy, like you had asked. Your hands came up, one to his hair and the other to smooth over his back as he worked himself through it until his weight was slumped over you.

A silence overcame you both for several moments, you could not believe how incredible this had all been. You were reeling still, trying to recall little details that would be very useful for you in the future. You smiled dopily at the thought that Harry had done just what he’d set out to do, ruin you for anyone else. You felt him shift and then press himself up to be able to look at you.

“Are you alright?” He asked softly and you nodded before smiling.

“I’m very alright. Are you?” You asked and he grinned.

“Yeah. Never been better.” He assured and you giggled, “That was…really good. Wasn’t it?”

“Too good…” you said with a chuckle and he hummed as he looked you over once more and then looked away from your eyes timidly.

“Yeah…ummm, let me…get out.” He said and you laughed softly, “Just, squeeze a bit f’you can? I…cum a lot.” He said glancing up to you again.

“Of course you do…” you sighed before biting your lip and tightening up. You whimpered as he started to slip out.

“Oh shit.” He said and rushed off of the bed to grab his t-shirt from the floor and quickly placed it over your vagina, presumably to avoid getting it all on the bedding.

“You’re gonna have to change this anyway, I’ve already…you know.” You said timidly as he glanced up while cleaning you up a bit.

“You can’t possibly be all shy about anything while I’m literally collecting my sperm out of you.” He said and you giggled and just laid your head back down. You wanted him to lick you clean and well, he was thinking the same thing, but this was supposed to be a one time thing. If he tasted himself and you mixed together this way he would surely end up putting another load in your pussy, “OK, I think that’s all of it.” He said as he stood by with the t-shirt just in case.

“I’ll just go sit in the bathroom for a bit, should probably pee.” You said as you sat up and he nodded.

“Right.” He agreed as he moved to let you get off of the bed. You glanced at the ground to locate the shirt he had given you earlier, but you realized it was the one he had used to clean you up.

“Ummm, I’m gonna grab this one since that one’s-”

“Yeah, go for it.” He assured.

“And your sweats too since the briefs are…”

“Way too wet.”

“Right!” You said as you picked that up as well and covered your naked body as you started to walk towards his bedroom door, “Thank you for that. But also fuck you for that because, you know that was…unreal sex.” You chuckled as you opened the door and he grinned.

“Yeah. Fuck you too.” He said and you giggled before slipping out and closing the door.

You rushed into the bathroom when you felt more of his cum start to come out slowly with your movements. So you locked yourself in there and cleaned yourself up a bit more before sitting down to pee. You were panicking now as you thought of everything that had transpired. You ended up taking another body shower because you were sweaty. And as you rinsed off once again there were a lot of thoughts happening. But there was one huge and harrowing thought plaguing you and it was that there was no way this was the only time you guys could sleep together. That wouldn’t be fair, it was way too spectacular to be a one and done. Just the thought of it made you throb as you pulled his sweats up your body. You got the t-shirt on next and then sighed as you turned to the door and had another thought just as you swung it open to see him leaning on the wall directly across from the bathroom door; he was waiting for you.

“I have a boyfriend.” You verbalized your thought to him and Harry stepped up to you and grabbed your face in his hands with a grin.

“Fuck your boyfriend.” He said lowly, “And fuck the one time only thing. And fuck condoms. And fuck your brother’s rule. And fuck sleeping in the guest room.” You smirked at him and he was smirking right back at you, “Are you cool with that?” He asked.

“Yeah. Fuck all that.” You agreed quietly. You thought he was going to kiss you, but he didn’t.

“Let’s get to bed then.” He said instead and you nodded and he led you back into his bedroom. There was a new bedcover over some presumably fresh sheets and you both settled in and you smiled as he pulled your body against his. You had both fallen silent, just relaxing and getting used to whatever this was about to be and then his phone dinged loudly from his bedside table. “God damnit.” He huffed and let you go as he sat up and reached over you to grab it and silence it. But when he saw the text on the screen he almost laughed. “It’s him.” He said into the darkness and you sighed. He unlocked his phone and looked at the text, “He says: Hey man, just wanna know if you've heard from Y/N? Her phone is off? Or do you have any idea of where she might be?” He finished reading the message and you smirked.

“Gimme that.” You said and he gave you his phone, assuming you’d send him a message to throw him off that you two were together. But then you pressed on the little camera icon and he couldn’t help the satisfaction he felt seeping into every fiber of his body, “Say cheese.” You sang.

“Fuck that, just take it.” He said and you giggled and threw up a peace sign before snapping the picture and smiling at the result. He looked mad and threatening, which was perfect. Harry grabbed his phone back with a grin and then texted: Yeah man, she’s with me and it’s over with you. “How’s that?”

“Perfect.” You assured and he hummed as he sent it and then blocked his number before handing you his phone to put it back on the nightstand. You hummed happily as he wrapped his arm around you again. As you let his warmth envelope you, you smiled as you started to think about all of the great things that would surely come of this because Harry was absolutely right before, you two were a good fit.

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