#they’re like best friends who flirt a little too much to be best friends | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ghostlyfleur · 4 months

Text

𝑠𝑤𝑒𝑒𝑡.

steve harrington x fem!reader

summary: the sweet progression of steve and his pretty girl’s relationship.

warnings: tooth-rotting fluff, idiots in love, oblivious!reader, shy!reader, inexperienced!reader. pet names (angel, baby, flower girl, pretty girl, princess, sweet girl). 18+ mdni, smut-adjacent. world building.

word count: ~4.5k

pre-relationship—

steve’s girl friend is a soft spoken, remarkably sweet, gentle soul. she’s shy, way too anxious, so inexperienced that she comes off as innocent. her wardrobe consists of flowy skirts and flowery dresses and soft sweaters and cozy knits, puts flowers in her hairdos like interwoven in braids or tucked in a half-up half-down mess, has this ethereal vibe to the makeup she likes to wear (ie. shimmery eyeshadow in soft colors, highlighter, sparkly lipgloss, white waterline pencil, fairy wing eyeliner designs, and slightly blushy cheeks), wears silver wire-framed glasses at home when not using contacts and steve thinks it brings out her gorgeous eyes even more. she always wears pretty dangly earrings with flowers, her nails painted with glitter nail polish or neutral soft colors, and steve thinks she’s an angel.

the rest of the people in town mostly think her to be weird and unapproachable, with the way she stops mid walk to crouch down and whisper softly to a ladybug she sees on the sidewalk, or when she accidentally bumps into a street pole and yells out a panicked ‘sorry!’ as if she would hear a reply back.

when steve first met his girl, he was enchanted.

she was so soft and beautiful and kind, but also very anxious; something he noticed the first time she walked into scoops ahoy, and steve was so excited to finally talk to the pretty girl that started working at the flower shop down the block that he’s been pining for. the pretty girl’s reaction to his flirting however was of shyness, nervousness, and seemingly scared silence… so steve decided to make a fool out of himself just to see her smile. it was worth it. steve felt as if her laughter was the equivalent of the skies opening up to let sunshine peak through dark clouds. they eased their way into each other’s lives after that. his girl started seeking him out, finding comfort and safety in his presence and caregiving personality, though remaining clueless of his feelings and just how much robin teased him for being a smitten fool.

“pretty flower girl” is how steve referred to her at the beginning, all heart eyes and dreamy sighs. working at a flower shop seems to fit her so entirely, like she’s in her own little world while surrounded by flora. she’s able to tell you the meanings, both positive and negative, of any flower imaginable, of different plants too! keeps a log book and a journal to track her flora friends’ growth, pressed flowers and polaroid pictures of different bouquets, photographs each beautiful arrangement she creates in a picture album.

her home is also completely taken over by pots and plants and gardens and hanging vines, secrets whispered to them while she waters her little friends as needed, full conversations kept that seem to make all the plants bloom and flourish even more. lots of natural light comes in from the many windows of her cabin, surrounded by greenery and trees and a small pond that wild animals often visit, knowing her safe haven is also a safe haven for any animals. the place always smells like whatever she’s baking, the decor homey and filled with crystals and incense and hand painted mugs and vases. greens, yellows, oranges, and tan colors. books balanced on any available surface.

she becomes steve’s girl best friend, and he loves her so much. worships her, really. steve makes it his mission to spoil and love his pretty girl, even if he hides it behind silly flirting and the pretense of friendship.

whenever they’re together, steve and his girl are all the other sees. the gang has a little bet on who will break first, steve or his flower girl.

her sit is always his lap.

steve swears off other girls as soon as he meets her.

he is very affectionate towards her, and she loves to kiss his cheeks.

they often have sleepovers just the two of them.

they’re so close they can just exist together and be at peace.

she’s so supportive of him too, always praising him and hyping him up.

steve is overprotective of her.

whenever one goes the other sure follows.

see, steve’s girl is so sweet on him it drives robin crazy. because robin knows the feelings are reciprocated, but she also knows both steve and his girl enough to know she needs to let them figure this out by themselves. it doesn’t mean robin isn’t their number one fan, though.

steve’s pretty girl bakes him sweets often to bring to him at work to “make your day a little easier, stevie”, she brings him flowers from her job that steve learns to preserve in his room, she gives him her favorite ring that he never takes off. but steve also does little things for his sweet girl— takes care of her and buys her chocolate because it makes her so happy and giddy he falls a little more in love each time. he also reminds her to drink water, buys her favorite snacks for movie night or when she’s on her period, takes her to the movies, drives her everywhere (because she’s his pretty passenger princess) to have some extra time with her.

oh! steve’s girl also has a bunch of homemade gifts that she keeps in a small glass trunk in her home because she’s too shy to give them to her stevie— handmade bracelets, handmade wire rings, pretty things she finds at thrift stores that remind her of her pretty boy, handmade necklaces, small gifts with pressed flowers, letters she writes down because she feels so deeply for her sweet boy that she needs to let it out somehow, and a bunch of other small gifts that she hopes one day she can give to her stevie to show him how much she loves him.

she’s so lovely to her stevie without even realizing, though. she’s demiromantic, you see, and after becoming friends with steve she started to slowly fall for him. the thing is, she knew very well what was happening, she’s very in tune to her emotions, and she fell for him willingly! whereas steve fell for her fast and kept falling.

imagine his girl never had her first kiss… she’s so inexperienced and her sweet persona and gentle demeanor make her seem like the softest person ever. steve is so mesmerized by her.

he flirts with her and is sweet to her and devotes his time to her and spoils her rotten and gives her kisses and hugs and cuddles and all the love he has to give— steve quickly decided that even if they’re ‘just friends’ he’ll still treat her like his princess, give her everything he can and shower her in his adoration until she catches up. and even then, even when it’s so obvious that steve is in love with her, that he blushes and stutters and gets flustered only for her, that he shows her every day just how much he loves her, she remains oblivious.

in her pov, she knows she’s in love with her stevie so she’s going to treat him like the most precious person in her world. which he is. the thing is that she gives him all of her love without ever once considering that he might return it, even as he flirts and quite literally says he’s hers and she’s his all the time, it never even crosses her mind to actually believe it. maybe because she’s trying to protect herself from heartbreak. she just decides that her stevie deserves the world so she’s going to give him all she can.

but she’s so soft with him! holds his face between her hands when talking to him sometimes like she’s holding her whole world on her hands, presses kisses to his cheeks all the time, gives him hugs. she always compliments him, isn’t afraid of telling him exactly what’s on her mind…

“you look so pretty, stevie”

“i’m so proud of you.”

“i missed you lots today!”

“i saw this cute puppy and it reminded me of you ‘cause you’re just as cute!”

“i always prefer your company.”

flower girl is the most adorable sight steve has ever seen! she pouts so prettily whenever she doesn’t get the attention she wants from him, all soft lips and furrowed brows and plush cheeks crossed arms, and steve just wants to pepper kisses all over her face.

her love languages:

she bakes him cookies ; buys him things that remind her of her stevie ; plans these cute little “friend” outings that feel more like dates ; she’s never lacking in her affections though she’s very timid and shy when it happens ; will defend him no matter what ; makes sure to always praise him ; she gets all cranky if someone insults him even playfully ; she’s very shy so she often hides her face on his chest or neck and it makes his heart flutter ; she helps him babysit bc the kids love her ; she gave her stevie a special arrangement of flowers that she created just for him plus a little booklet of pictures of the two of them together that also had pressed flowers on it for his birthday ; she checks in with him every day even if they don’t see each other to make sure her stevie is doing okay ; will stay on the phone with him all night especially if he had a nightmare or a fight with his parents.

where steve’s best friend is all cute and pouty and sweet and clingy and loving but only to her stevie!!!!! and she’s a bit ditzy— talks to animals and plants and inanimate objects like they can answer her, her thoughts jump from one thing to another but steve always entertains her, she skips instead of waking a lot, she dresses all cute and coquette and always has glitter on her somewhere, she gives steve handmade gifts all the time with this shy little smile and blushing and sometimes when the gift is specially meaningful she’ll run away as soon as he accepts it 🥺 she trips over her own feet a lot too!!! so steve has to grip her waist to help her find her footing!!! and it makes her break out in goosebumps!!! and steve is so in love with her, with her ramblings and midnight ice cream cravings and true crime rants and the way she talks about murder and psychopath profiling and laughs at horror movies and has crystals and tarot cards and wants to befriend ghosts, how she gives her stevie little glass bottles with protection spells or anti-anxiety spells or how she always needs to hear his voice before bed.

and she’s so pretty and soft and kind and nice and laughs a lot and everyone loves her— but she never notices how so many people flirt with her, and never notices whenever steve scares possible suitors away, because really she only sees steve!!!!!! and it makes him crazy to see how she blatantly ignores anyone and everyone to focus on him!!!!!

but then one day steve’s girl starts feeling sad and heartbroken because she’s convinced herself that steve still loves nancy so she starts pulling away a little and steve doesn’t understand what he did wrong! robin has to spell it out for him that his girl thinks he still wants nancy when that couldn’t be further from the truth; steve now knows he’s never truly been in love before, not like he is with his angel, and that it was his angel that showed him he deserves someone who loves him just as much as he loves them. therefore, steve does his best to find ways to tell his girl that nancy is in the past, that she has nothing to worry about, but he has to do so while him and his angel aren’t together yet so he slowly breached the subject until he can figure out where his girl stands, if he can make a move, if she’s interested in him too, y’know? like those conversations filled with a deeper meaning and both parties trying to drop hints about their feelings but they’re still too hesitant to be more clear in their affections. for now.

imagine steve spoiling her and making her all giddy and happy and shy and giggly :( i want steve to treat his baby like royalty way before they even get together :( i wanna read about their first kiss and how it makes steve’s knees buckle and how she’s so giggly because it’s her first kiss and he tells her he wants to marry her right then and there and she tells him she never ever would consider being with anyone but her stevie :(

after they get together—

their first kiss happens in what steve considers to be the best night of his life to date.

it was halloween, and he was slightly nervous about going to the fair with not only the kids and robin and eddie, but his girl too. the year before, he stayed in with his angel and robin watching movies and eating junk, which was the perfect night ‘cause he got to cuddle his girl, but last halloween he went out to celebrate didn’t end up being very enjoyable for him… what with having your now-ex call you bulshit, bullshit, bullshit.

however, this is his girl he’s talking about. while it wasn’t a date, simply a hangout with their friend group, steve still considers his girl, well… his. and the fact she insisted on meeting them there herself had him slightly on edge.

she was dressed as a fairy.

steve has never seen anyone as pretty, as mesmerizing. and the way she treated this night, treated him, was driving steve crazy.

first, once she meets everyone at the entrance of the amusement park they agreed to go to, she insists on paying for both herself and steve. literally grabs steve’s wallet from his hand and only gives it back after she pays.

he, of course, only really allows it because she gives him her — in steve’s opinion illegal — pouty puppy eyes that she knows steve can’t say no to.

afterwards, once they all enter and the kids disperse to the various entertainment with the agreement of meeting up later to eat, steve’s girl drags him away from robin and eddie, who were both sporting knowing grins, to a shooting booth where she proceeds to win, suspiciously easily might he add, a stuffed frog for him.

and then she grabs his hand. albeit hesitantly, but she does. intertwining their fingers and everything.

the entire night was a dream for steve, and unbeknownst to him, for his girl too. she had a plan, you see. his angel was pulling out all the stops, even if she was shy and blushy the whole time— paying for the tickets for both of them was number one. followed by winning steve a stuffed animal, holding his hand, sharing fried oreos and cotton candy (again, paid by her), and going to the photobooth. the ferris wheel would be last, but it’s what happens inside the photobooth that matters.

once inside, steve made sure she was sat on his lap. she payed again. the pictures go a little something like this:

1st pic steve is laughing and she’s looking at him like he’s her dream come true which he is / 2nd pic she pushes forward not being able to wait any longer and quickly presses her lips to his a bit messily / 3rd pic is her looking all flustered and shy and doe-eyed while steve has this dazed look in his eyes and his jaw is dropped / 4th pic is steve grabbing her cheeks and kissing her fully, brows furrowed and all.

steve steals another kiss at the top of the ferris wheel, it was giggling and smiling more than kissing, though.

on the drive home, angel makes a stop at their self-assigned star gazing spot where she officially asks steve to be her boyfriend, all flustered and timid but oh so hopeful. another kiss, a resounding “yes” from her sweet boy, and dropping him off with a quick goodnight kiss ends the night, and steve has never been happier.

the fact she planned this whole night, took a chance, romanced the hell out of him, and was so genuine the whole time, looking to make him smile, just because, had steve on a high unlike any other. no one has ever taken the time to spoil him, to do romantic things for him. he’s not used to reciprocity in relationships, but here this angel is professing her love for him and not only saying it but showing him she means it. best night of his life.

and so their relationship begins.

steve harrington just worships his girl, spoils her continuously, and wants to do everything for her. he is overly affectionate and just obsessed with his baby, pictures of her and with her everywhere on his house, his car, his wallet, maybe even a locket he wears with a copy of the picture of their first kiss on it. steve took the photobooth strip and got the second picture, his angel kissing him for the first time, copied and altered to fit into the locket.

everyone in town just knows steve is entirely whipped and he does not care. he is definitely touch starved for his girl, quite a bit jealous, however, but trusts her so much that it just comes out as a sort of possessiveness that isn’t toxic but something both he and, secretly, his angel enjoy. steve always praises her and wants to take care of her because she’s his sweet little angel girl.

steve is also her first everything— first kiss, first date, first boyfriend, first time… and it drives him insane! something about knowing he’s the only one that’s ever had her and the only one she’s ever wanted just drives him up the wall and gets him so needy. so desperate. so whiney and pouty.

something else about steve as a boyfriend is that he’s his angel’s biggest fan — always praising, always encouraging, always in awe of her. will brag about his baby to anyone. randomly brings her up in conversation because she’s all he thinks about and he’s so proud to be hers.

buying her flowers whenever he can so she’ll give him this wide, square smile of hers that takes over her whole face like she can’t control it and her nose scrunches up a bit and he never wants to look at anything but her.

her stevie is really into pda too, can’t take his hands off of her, but nothing extreme; casual touches and pecks on her nose or temple or lips or cheeks, buries his face in her neck often, hand holding constantly!!!!!!, plays with her hair, is always playing with the delicate ‘s’ pendant on her neck that he gifted her and she never takes off (steve has this proud little smile whenever he messes with it).

then there’s the casual dominance— steve tucks her hair behind her ears, ties her shoelaces for her, adjusts the clasp of her necklace, puts her dainty jewelry on for her, braids her hair because she’s always clumsy with it and she prefers his braids over hers, gives her water so she stays hydrated, remembers her meds for her, adjusts her beanie on her hair when it’s cold and she’s wearing one, wipes chocolate from the corner of her mouth because his baby is a messy eater, pulls on her waist when they’re walking so she doesn’t bump into someone or something because she’s too busy talking and looking at him, spoon feeds her when she’s too tired and sleepy and pouty, brushes her teeth for her too when she’s being his cute little tired baby or is in subspace, brushing her hair and treating her like a little doll, his little doll, and loves to shower with her so he can do it for her, loves to drive her everywhere too. she’s his pretty passenger princess and they both take that role very seriously.

and whenever his pretty baby gets all glassy eyed and needy and blushy for him? he melts.

steve has a daddy kink. major one. and when he finally finds his baby, his person, he starts noticing things she might be into for the sole reason of wanting to be the absolute best he can be for his baby. the thing is, he knows she’s entirely new to this and still a bit nervous and hesitant and shy, so he starts by filing things away in his brain to make sure once she’s ready and the time comes that he can treat her perfectly, and give her everything and anything she wants.

his baby is probably a sub, she must be, with how pliable and soft she gets. for sure has an oral fixation, always giving him little kisses and little bites randomly and pressing his hand to her lips so she can softly mouth at them (but will shy away and get flustered when she notices she’s doing this) (she just loves his hands and he knows). steve’s girl also gets all flustered and her breath hitches when he jokingly calls himself ‘daddy’, so he takes that as a good sign because there’s nothing steve wants more in this world than to be her daddy. only hers. to spoil and care for and love his baby to the best of his ability.

she also loves when he manhandles her, he’s noticed— it’s just that steve really enjoys carrying his baby around, loves feeling needed and loves holding her and having her body pressed to his and have her hold on to him, but also he just wants to do things for his baby, doesn’t want her to tire herself out, ever!

she doesn’t need to walk around all the time because her stevie’s here and he won’t have his baby do unnecessary work when he’s around. whenever he grabs her waist and places her on top of a counter or something and stands between her legs? she gets all smiley. steve also absolutely loves how clearly his touch affects her; she hums and melts into him and gets a bit breathless and just tries to bury herself into him until they become one. lots of cuddles and hugs from behind and just being entirely wrapped in each other while wearing the coziest sweaters under the cuddliest blanket are common occurrences.

the main thing, though… is how steve’s shy little girlfriend quickly becomes obsessed with his bulge. loves when her stevie hugs her from behind so it presses against her, or when he has her sit between his legs with her back to his chest, or any time where her stevie is holding her close. he doesn’t even need to be hard for her to enjoy it, i mean, he shows through his jeans even when he’s soft! and she just always thinks it looks so…soft? and chubby? and she just wants it smushed against her at all times.

it takes steve a while to figure it out, but when he does? he’s relentless! pressing up against his baby all. the. fucking. time. just to see her blush and stutter and get all shy… but she also fucking sighs and relaxes whenever he does it, like it’s such a comfort for her? to feel all of him? like it’s all she’s waiting for at all times. and it drives steve crazy how his cute, shy, introverted, virgin girlfriend who giggles all the time and is always flustered by him and hiding her hot cheeks with her hands and is so… clumsy and tentative and nervous when it comes to any sort of affection (which she only accepts from her stevie) ((she definitely hates touch except his)) (((and he knows it too! was one of the things that proved to him his pretty best friend had feelings for him too when they were ‘just friends’))) can be so desperate to feel his bulge against her.

angel also loves that her stevie boy has huge hands! absolutely massive. could-wrap-one-hand-around-your-entire-neck massive, beautiful, strong, soft hands.. and yeah, both steve and his girl definitely have huge size kinks. huge. they haven’t said so out loud yet, but it shows through their actions. steve loves how obvious the size difference is when they’re holding hands, or when his hand is on her soft thighs. most of the time his baby holds his fingers instead because it hurts a little bit to intertwine their fingers for too long and steve thinks it’s fucking adorable. she’s shorter too, so 😵‍💫 her sweet boy goes crazy. teasing, best friend steve comes out sometimes too when he uses her head as an armrest to tease her, or when he full on picks her up to take her somewhere if she’s being a brat or is too lazy, too tired to move.

steve’s angel loves their size difference. so much. it shows when she hides herself against his chest when it’s cold, when she compares hand sizes because “stevie, the difference is just insane!”, when steve smushes her into the mattress when they start fucking later on. steve notices his angel blush or sigh or break out in goosebumps whenever his hands are involved— i mean, can you blame her? his hands are so pretty. she’s always holding and touching and tracing her fingertips over his palms and pressing kisses, biting softly, sucking on his fingers when she’s restless, fidgety, or sleepy.

using steve as a weighted blanket is a must; helps angel when she’s anxious or having a bad day.

to be continued…

── harmo’s footnotes:

please remember to show your support by reblogging!

masterlist. steve dreams.

2K notes · View notes

onetoomanyfandomfixations · 5 months

Text

Helluva Boss Characters Reacting to You Asking for a Hug

Tbh this series is just for my own enjoyment at this point lmao

I’m so normal about them, I swear.

BLITZØ

Honestly, it depends on what type of relationship you have with him

Familial relationship? Best BELIEVE he’s coddling the shit outta you rn

^ def a cheek pincher

“Hey sweetie? Do you need me ta fuck someone up for ya?”

But if y’all are platonic, or SATAN FORBID

R O M A N T I C ?

Ur not getting Shit

Well, until you start crying

“You’re a fuckin’ baby, you know that?”

Very casual hugs

Always sits his chin on you

Will complain the entire time

But you both know he loves you

LOONA

“Oh shit, you good?”

She’s blunt, not heartless

Honestly pretty touched that you asked for a hug instead of just going for one

Like her adoptive dad, very casual hugs

Usually just slings an arm over your shoulders

Won’t talk to you about it

Y’all just sit in comforting silence

Don’t let anyone point out that she’s letting you touch her

Will get v flustered

Depending on how you both feel - may let you play with her hair to self regulate

MILLIE

“Sure thing, hun!”

Doesn’t matter who you are, or why you need a hug, she’ll take it

Physical affection is her top love language idc

Squeezes super super tight

Like, you can barely breathe

Gushes over how sweet you are

Will probs pepper your face in kisses too (doesn’t matter what ur relationship with her is)

((Millie is a strong believer in non-romantic kisses, she told me herself))

Will probs ask Moxxie to bring y’all a drink

MOXXIE

“Uhh, you sure you want a hug from me?”

Yes babe I’m sure

Doesn’t think he’s the best one to be comforting you - will palm you off to Millie if he can

But will be offended if anyone else says he can’t look after you

^^ Gets all huffy about it

Distraction is his new best friend

Will tell you a mixture of stories and fun facts to try and make you feel better

Will also make you a hot drink

If you want to, will talk out your feelings with you

STOLAS

Babes just blinks for a hot minute as your words register with him

Has the softest smile

“Of course, dearest. Come here.”

A hug isn’t enough for him, you’re in for a full blown cuddle sesh now

Likes the feeling of having you fully wrapped up in his arms

Forehead kisses. Forehead Kisses.

Will sometimes swaddle you in blankets like a literal baby

Hums softly for you

Tries to ask what’s wrong, will def push the subject

He just wants to fix it, okay?

Will just,,, smother you in affection until you’re okay

And then some

OCTAVIA

Judgemental eyebrow raise.

Judgy, judgy girl

Y’all gotta be CLOSE for her to hug

((But not really, she’s so touch starved its not funny, but we don’t talk about that-))

Long, comforting hugs

If u end up crying, will fix your makeup for you

Don’t mention it though

Like, literally don’t mention it or it won’t happen again

She probs just breathes a sigh of relief when y’all hugs

Holds on a little too tight, for a little too long

If you ask first, she’ll start coming to you for hugs now too

FIZZAROLLI

Baby. Baby, baby man.

Will wrap his arms around you several times over

Another really tight hugger

You had shit to do?

Sike, not anymore

Now you’re spending all day with Fizz

Your fault, you started it by asking for a hug

Is super worried about you, but tries to play it down

Will do stupid shit just to see you laugh

Will ALSO flirt with you until you can’t stand it anymore

ASMODEUS

Immediately concerned, does not try to hide it

Much like his bf, cancels all plans for today

Y’all are gonna be chilling in bed and cuddling now

Just kinda,,, scoops you up?

Definitely plays with your hair

Gives a SOLID head massage

So so gentle and sweet

Just lays you on his chest

Draws pictures on your back and makes you guess what he’s drawing

^^ he does this to help ground you

Tbh he’ll probably drag Fizz to bed too, so know they’re both looking after you

Mans isn’t gonna let anyone get left out

2K notes · View notes

sugrhigh · 10 days

Text

THE BOY IS MINE - ( m.s )

REQUESTED**

summary- after years of friendship, you’ve seen matt date people before, but none of them have been as bad as this new one. you’ve never interfered with any of the girls in the past, but one night she takes it too far and your true feelings come out.

warnings- cursing, unprotected sex (pretend ur on birth control but also wrap it before you tap it), choking, cheating, dom!matt, it’s smut with a plot guys are we surprised (read at ur own fucking discretion PLEASE!)

a/n: thank you @stonermattsgf for the request!! i fucking loved this concept and the song eats down i hope i did u some justice <3 the touch it chris fic will be coming too cuz im fuckin with that song as well (if you weren’t tagged it wouldn’t let me tag you, i’m sorry!!)

@fawnchives @teapartyprincess4two @sturnioloco @mattinside @l9vesick @sturnsblunt @ev3rgreenxtrees @wh0resstuff @matthewsmocktails @cherrypostsposts @bxbynyah7 @seababehh @sturnsfav @mattsluv @sturniolossss @melanch0lybby @sturniolos-blog @lustfulslxt @sturnioloobssesd @ginswife @amypull @vivianalovesmatt @st4niolos @sturnioloobessed @sturnlova @bigbeefybitch @minhyucks @iheart-zegras @vicsguitarr @melonjollyranche @hearts4matty @vickyzloserz @user8000000 @xoxo4chrisss @unfilteredassmf @mattsbiggesthoe @chrisstopherfilmed @st3rniolo @goldengrapejuice @luv2matt @vsangel-starbies @mikaelabutterfield @mattnchrisworld @bluesturniolo333 @wurlibydominicfike @kp07on @hayleyreadsblog

in no universe did you expect to be pining after one of your best friends.

it had always been strictly platonic between you and matt, aside from a little harmless flirting over the years. you loved him and his brothers so much that you never wanted to mess anything up, or complicate things when the dynamic was already perfect.

but as much as you’re close with each of them, you know you’ve always understood matt on a deeper level. you share the same goals, the same fears, even the same taste in music and movies.

he’s always been the first person to check in, the only one who can read your mood like the back of his hand, the guy who cheers you up and lets you cry on his shoulder when things are shitty.

despite these sweet gestures, you’ve both had your fair share of relationships and flings while being best friends. none of them have ever bothered you before, and you’ve always tried to be respectful and kind to whichever girl he picks.

that is, until now.

matt is sitting across from you on the couch in their living room, slight frown etched on his face. his girlfriend, maya, has her legs sprawled across his lap comfortably, arms linked like she’s claiming him.

her eyes are practically locked on you. you don’t blame her; she’s well aware that you’re not her biggest fan.

all she does is complain about all of the things she doesn’t like about matt. last time she hung out with you guys, she was bitching about the fact that he kissed her in public at a party, as if she was worried he was scaring off other guys.

when he buys her flowers, they’re the wrong ones. if he takes her to dinner, she whines about the food. she’ll even criticize his clothes, demanding that they match and he hides the tattoos. to her, he can’t do anything right, even though he’s incredible just the way he is.

so it drives you absolutely insane watching the way she walks all over matt, all over his brothers, even you. it’s been two months of this agony, and you can’t believe it’s even lasted this long.

you spend nearly every day thinking about how much better you could treat him. every time he touches you, no matter how briefly, your skin burns in desire. it’s selfish to want someone who’s taken, and you’re well aware of that.

but you just love matt, you know him. and he deserves better. maybe it’s you, maybe it’s not. but it’s certainly not maya.

“give it to me, fuckhead.” chris’s voice rips you out of your trance, and you snap your head toward the middle of the U-shaped sofa.

he’s currently fighting nick for the remote, who slaps the side of his arm rather hard. chris lets go, only to pull his brother into a headlock seconds later. nick lets out a yelp of surprise, jamming an elbow into his side to get him to stop.

in all the commotion, you decide to grab the remote for yourself, a wide smile settling across your features as you take it into your palm.

they both notice quickly, groaning in protest as you wave it at them tauntingly.

“too slow! now i get to pick, idiots.” you tease.

“c’mon, i just went to war for that thing.” nick complains, kicking your leg half-heartedly, but you just shake your head.

“snooze you lose.”

you scroll through your options, trying to pay no mind to the way maya is whispering to matt for so long she could be reciting the bible. then your eyes land on a title that makes you pause, chuckling a little to yourself.

“oh no way, they have fucking cocaine bear on here?” chris cackles.

nick looks rather amused himself, raising his eyebrows like he’s intrigued. “i mean, i’m game.”

you glance over at matt, who’s already looking at you with a grin on his face. he mentioned the movie to you a little while ago, and how he just had to see how stupid it was eventually.

“why would we waste our time watching this shit? isn’t it supposed to be awful?” maya chimes from beside him, and your gaze narrows in on her.

“it’ll be funny, you know, ‘cause it’s so bad.” you reply, trying to keep your voice light and friendly.

she tilts her head to the side slightly, studying you with disapproving eyes. “yeah, i’m not so sure about trusting your taste. i mean, that god-awful outfit is just one example.”

the air seems to be sucked out of the room as you grip your sweats self-consciously. nobody moves, nobody speaks. you feel the anger flare up in your veins as you look at matt, wondering if he’s going to step in like he should.

but he doesn’t. in fact, he’s avoiding your gaze altogether. so you square your shoulders and turn your focus back to the girl you dislike so much. you’re done with the passive aggressive comments, with all of the bullshit glares and insults.

you’re done letting her bulldoze you. if matt wants to go through that, fine. but he doesn’t have to take everyone down with him by subjecting them to maya’s presence.

“well, you seem to be the only one who has a problem with my taste, so maybe you should just leave.” you say calmly, smiling sarcastically at the end because you can’t help it.

her mouth pops open, and you can hear chris and nick trying to stifle their gasps and chuckles. even the corner of matt’s lips turn up, which makes you wonder.

maya turns to look at her boyfriend, completely astonished. “are you seriously going to let her talk to me like that?”

he seems conflicted as he briefly looks your direction, clearing his throat to buy some time. you tilt an eyebrow, crossing your arms like you’re just waiting for him to pick his side.

she may have asked the question, but now you’re dying to know the answer.

“maya is right. and, uh, i think you should apologize.” matt fumbles with his words, unable to speak to you directly.

you feel the fury work its way up your face, and you force yourself to blink away the burning sensation of frustrated tears. maya looks far too satisfied, and you want to slap the smirk off of her face.

but you know you can’t lay hands on her, so you decide your words will have to be your knives.

“you know what, i am sorry,” you begin, raising your hands in surrender.

they’re both a bit surprised by this change in direction, so after a brief pause, you continue.

“i’m really sorry that you’re dating a stuck up bitch. i’m sorry that she’s constantly taking advantage of your kindness. i’m sorry that she treats you like shit, that she talks down to you like you’re a child, that she’s never satisfied with the things you do. and i’m especially sorry that you continue to let her, because you can do so much better.”

if maya’s eyeballs could pop out of her skull, you would imagine it would be exactly like how she looks right now. matt is also slack jawed beside her, and you can’t be near him any longer.

so you stand up, turning to leave the boy you love so much without another word.

the fresh night air of spring is a relief once you step out the front door, and you try to let it calm you as you hustle toward your car. you can already feel your phone buzzing in your back pocket as you move, presumably nick and chris.

you hope they’re not angry. it’s bad enough knowing that you’ve royally fucked things up with matt, but you couldn’t bare it if all three of them hated you.

you practically toss yourself into the drivers seat, slamming the door closed with a force that shakes the entire vehicle. you’re peeling out of the driveway before you can even reflect on the consequences of your actions, speeding home as if your life depended on it.

your ringtone continues to erupt as you drive along the backroads, but you force yourself to ignore it for the time being.

only once you throw the car into park in your own driveway do you check the messages, scrolling through the numerous notifications. unsurprisingly most of them are from nick and chris like you presumed, wondering if you’re alright and applauding you for finally standing up to the wicked witch of the west.

for a brief moment, their kind words make you feel better.

but then your eyes catch a contact that you actually don’t expect; matt’s. you stare at your device, throat going completely dry. a missed call and two texts.

matt

i’m coming over

don’t bother saying no, im already on my way

that was five minutes ago, which means he’s not too far behind you. you tear out of your car and across the yard, throwing the door open carelessly.

your heart is still slamming against your ribcage, and fear crawls up your throat as you press your back to the wood, kicking your flip flops off in the general direction of the coat rack.

your mind flashes to the idea of him yelling at you, which you suppose would be somewhat warranted. you’ve seen matt angry on a couple of occasions, and you can’t imagine he has anything kind to say to you right now.

you pace the foyer as you wait for his arrival, picking at the beds of your fingernails anxiously.

and then it happens; the loud knock on the front door, followed by another series of harsh slams.

impatient motherfucker.

you straighten up as your palm wraps around the knob, sucking in a breath before pulling it open to reveal a rather disheveled matt.

he’s breathing heavy, hair messy as if he’s been tugging at it for the entire drive. his earrings glint in the porch light as he stares at you like he’s trying to commit every feature to memory, wetting his lips hungrily.

“matt—”

you barely get his name out before he wraps his ring-clad fingers around your throat, pulling your mouth to his harshly. he molds against you perfectly, his other hand traveling to your hip to hold you flush against his own body.

he just couldn’t help it. he was so desperate on the entire ride over, replaying your outburst on a loop in his mind as he drove further and further away from his girlfriend. there’s been only a few occasions he’s seen you that upset, and your comments had been a necessary slap in the face.

plus, watching you fight for him when he was too much of a bitch to do it himself was a bigger turn-on than he’d like to admit.

all he’s ever wanted is you. and it shouldn’t have taken this long to admit it to himself.

matt guides you backwards, hand still squeezing your neck as he blindly kicks the door shut with one foot. you feel your back bump against the kitchen counter, and you’re trying to register what the hell is going on, but his kiss is so fucking intoxicating that it’s impossible to think clearly.

his tongue slides against yours passionately, and the flavored chapstick you’re wearing is driving him insane. you can feel him growing hard against your thigh as he toys with the elastic waistband of your pants suggestively.

you have no idea if this means it’s officially over with him and maya, but you find that you quite frankly don’t give a shit.

in this moment, he’s yours.

his fingers finally dip into your sweats a few seconds later, traveling down to brush against your clothed heat as he moves his mouth to your jaw sloppily. a breathy moan escapes before you can stop it, involuntarily rutting your hips against his cold rings in search of more friction.

one of your hands goes to grip the hair at the nape of his neck while the other claws at his back, desperately wrapping your knuckle around the cloth of his muscle tee.

“you like that?” matt grumbles against your throat, nipping at the skin as he begins to apply real pressure to your cunt in little circular motions.

your back arches and you tilt your head to the side so you can give him full access, silently hoping he’ll leave a mark behind.

“you’ve been thinking about me touching you like this, haven’t you? wishing i would come fuck you instead of her?” he questions further, moving his head slightly so he’s speaking directly into your ear.

the hand that was choking you slides down so he can grope your chest, his thumb running over one of your hardened nipples through the thin shirt you’re wearing. the combined pleasure has you whining in his grasp, a submissive sound that you wish you weren’t making.

you can feel him grinning as he presses his mouth to that sweet spot below your earlobe, his tongue darting out to wet the area.

“you want me just as much.” you manage to find your voice, though your claim is muttered with no conviction.

matt pauses his movements and brings both hands to your waistband again, which makes you whimper as you clench around nothing. his mouth finds yours briefly to swallow the sound, and he bites down on your bottom lip as he pulls away.

“you’re not wrong. so are you gonna give me what i want, baby?” he asks as he teases your sweats and panties just a little lower on your hips.

“keep going.” you plead.

you let go of your grip on his body so he can tug both items down to your ankles, helping you step out of their grasp before discarding them a couple feet away.

matt doesn’t immediately stand back up; instead he takes his time, kissing the side of your knees as his hands slide up the outside of your thighs. you feel so exposed, so on-display that you clench your legs together before you can help it.

he immediately pries them apart, shaking his head slightly with a little smirk. “don’t be shy now, you had so much to say earlier.”

his words spur you on, so you spread yourself wider, opting to grip the counter as he reattaches his lips to your inner thighs. matt inches closer and closer to where you really need him, taking his time to nip at the supple flesh that comes before.

he pulls away right when you think he’s finally about to put his mouth on you, letting his hot breath fan across your soaked center. it makes you shiver in anticipation, and you’re getting a little too needy now.

“quit fucking teas—oh shit.”

you throw your head back as his two fingers spread you apart, tongue coming in contact with the middle of your cunt as he laps at the wetness that had pooled there.

he slows his pace slightly after a moment, making sure to pay attention to the whole area, working his way up until his nose bumps against your clit. you spit a curse out, letting one hand go so you can grip his soft hair.

matt continues on, his lips closing around the sensitive bud so he can apply more pressure and suction. your gut flips at the sensation and your grip on his roots tightens as his mouth works.

he grumbles, loving the way you’re pulling at him so desperately. the noise sends vibrations through your core, which only makes the experience more enjoyable.

“fuckkk, matt, feels so good.” you praise dumbly, your words slurring.

the vocal admiration makes his pulse quicken, and at this point he’s straining against his jeans. he just can’t believe he’s got you like this, grinding your cunt against his face as if he’s the best you’ve ever had.

he can tell you’re growing closer just based on the little gasps and moans leaving your mouth, and your legs begin to shake ever so slightly. but he won’t let you finish just yet.

“want to be inside this pretty pussy.” he pulls away to say it, pressing one more wet kiss to the delicate area before he gets up.

you’re craving more, so you decide to take initiative, reaching for his belt and fumbling to undo the buckle. you tear it from the loops and toss it away, moving to his zipper as he reaches behind his head to tug his loose tank off.

his pants fall to the floor, leaving him in only his tented boxers. he’s quick to kick his shoes off, followed by his jeans right after.

then his hands go to your waist, fingers digging into the smooth flesh.

“up.” he instructs bluntly, helping lift you onto the end of the marbled countertop so he’s standing between your legs.

he lifts your shirt up next, and you help him out by throwing your arms above your head so he can fully remove it. his eyes train downwards, admiring the way your sheer bra hugs your tits. it hardly leaves anything to the imagination, and matt finds it extremely hot that you’ve been wearing it all night without him knowing.

before he can make a move, you surprise him by reaching back confidently to unhook the garment yourself. you let it slip from your shoulders before throwing it to your side, revealing your bare chest to him wordlessly.

he pulls his lip between his teeth as he exhales, gently guiding you downwards so your back is pressed flat against the cool surface. matt looks intimidating standing over you, his dark eyes drinking in every inch of your body.

“you’re so fucking sexy.” he says in awe, leaning down to give you another real kiss, a salty mix of sweat and arousal on his lips.

then he finds his way down to your collarbone, staying there shortly before traveling between the valley of your breasts. without warning, he presses his tongue flat across one nipple, flicking it back and forth.

you push your chest further into his face with a moan, both hands in his hair this time. he moves to the other perky bud, sucking on it as his teeth graze the tissue ever so slightly.

you’re practically writhing underneath him, and you can feel the pit growing in your stomach again. so even though it feels incredible, you yank his head back off of your chest by his hair.

“need you to fuck me.” you mutter, pushing his hair out of his face with both of your hands.

matt nods once, straightening so he can slide his underwear down. his erection finally springs free, pink tip glistening with precum. you watch as he spreads the wetness around, pumping himself in his hand a few times.

he’s bigger than you expected, and your mouth is watering just thinking about how much you want him to be pounding into you already.

“wrap your legs around me princess.” he commands gruffly, and you do just as you’re told, hooking your ankles behind his back.

his dick presses against your heat, and you buck against it to try and feel more. matt is quick to steady your hips roughly, holding you down against the edge of the counter as he teases himself into your entrance.

you both moan, his low and rumbling, yours high-pitched and greedy. you use your thighs to pull him closer, forcing him to drive into you fully so you can feel that pleasurable stretch.

“mmmn—fuck, you’re so tight.” he sighs, giving you another moment before he begins to drag his cock in and out at a steady pace.

you rock with him as best you can, finding the perfect rhythm so that he’s plowing his full length into you, filling the house with the sound of skin slapping skin.

matt lets one hand wrap around your neck again to choke you, tattoos on display as his muscles flex, and the pressure traps your lewd cries in your throat. his other fingers continue to toy with your nipples, which makes you arch off the counter, head rolled back as your eyes screw shut.

“look at you, taking me like such a good girl. just like i knew you would.” he compliments breathlessly.

he starts snapping his hips harder, enjoying the way your tits bounce as you slide slightly against the slick counter. you look so fucking beautiful, mouth partially open, barely able to squeak out a moan.

never in a million years did matt think he’d get the opportunity to fulfill all of his shamefully dirty fantasies about you, but here you are, completely naked and spread out in your own kitchen.

you’re squeezing around him now with every stroke, and he somehow keeps getting deeper, hitting your g-spot in a way that makes you jerk.

the familiar feeling of your abs tightening occurs as you get closer to your orgasm, and you swear you’re seeing stars at this point. he’s right there with you, a groaning mess as your fingers reach up to dig into his bicep.

“yes, matt, right there! m’gonna—” you fumble over your words, unable to finish the thought as the satisfaction builds.

he uses the last of his strength to drill into you, moving both hands back to your waist quickly so he can slam you down on his cock a few more times.

“come all over this dick baby, don’t hold back.”

you’re practically screaming his name as you hit your high, releasing all over him as his hot cum spills into you at the same time.

he slows his movements as you look up at him with bleary eyes, enjoying the last moments of being inside you before he pulls out. you feel your mixed arousal dripping out onto the counter, and you don’t even care that you’ll have to clean it up later.

that was completely worth the mess.

your chest continues to heave as you relish in the come down, dropping your thighs from his hips so he’s free to move around.

but matt stays between them, leaning down to capture your mouth with his one final time. it’s brief, but it means more than either of you truly understand.

he’s the one to break it first, pressing his forehead against yours before he speaks. “you’re incredible, you know that?”

you smile weakly, pushing against his chest to put some distance between the two of you. reality is creeping back in, reminding you that this was probably a one time thing.

“help me down?” you ask, and he complies.

matt lifts you a bit as you slide off the countertop, setting you back on real ground a second later. you’re not sure what to say as you stand before him, completely fucked out and terrified of whatever is coming next.

“so, um…i should probably get cleaned up.” you try to sound casual, even though you’re feeling anything but relaxed.

he immediately notices the switch in tone, the way you’re wrapping your arms around yourself like you’re trying to shrink away and hide. he’s also pretty sure he knows where this insecurity is coming from.

his fingers go to grip your chin gently, demanding that you look him in the face. your eyes widen as he brushes his thumb along your swollen bottom lip.

“i’m cutting things off with maya. i just…love you. and i’m sorry it took me so long.” matt finally admits.

it takes a second to click in your brain, but when it does a wide grin spreads across your face. butterflies erupt in your stomach, and you kiss the pad of his finger as he moves it along your mouth.

“i love you too, but i think you knew that already.” you tease playfully.

“yeah, maybe. but i like hearing you say it out loud.”

#matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #Spotify #matt sturniolo smut #sturniolo fanfic #fanfic

677 notes · View notes

uglyducklingofthe2000s · 4 months

Note

I have come to request jealous Charles if you’d be down 🩷 Maybe something funny and fluffy like how the other drivers know that they are dating but they think they’re being so lowkey, so the other drivers hit on reader just to see Charles flounder 😂

You Make It Too Easy - Charles Leclerc

Charles bringing y/n but insisting he's single and they're just best friends was amusing to everyone. He seems to think he's fooling them all but they all caught on after the first time she appeared in the paddock before any fans or the media noticed.

Especially since the rest of the drivers who are under 30 go out of their way to purposely annoy him by flirting with y/n nonstop.

Y/n is somewhat innocent in terms of she's got the sweetest personality and she does sort of want to avoid the pressure and attention that comes with being an F1 wag. Though she is already feeling it and she knows that there is worst to come.

"Hey, y/n. It's good to see you again." Lando smirks moving up to her and kissing either cheek in greeting before Carlos does the same since as usual, the two former teammates have found each other and teamed up to torment Charles. "You know, you should come explore the McLaren unit some time."

"Really?" Y/n smiles always the kind nature.

"Y/n is busy today." Charles states in a mildly annoyed tone but it's much less annoyed in his voice than what he's feeling.

"That's a shame. Maybe tomorrow."

"Oh, that's very sweet." Y/n smiles before feeling Charles step a little closer. "I'll think about it."

"I hope you do."

Carlos laughs pushing the younger man away as Lando shoots wink her way, though as he steps back to leave, he does cast his eyes at Charles who has a set jaw, the grinding of his teeth behind his closed lips very much obvious as he tries to look away from the McLaren driver.

You'd think Pierre would at least know and leave Charles alone. But even he can't help himself from riling Charles up a little, just to see how far he'd have to be pushed before just admitting the truth.

"Y/n, mon amor. You are beautiful. But I don't know if red suits you." Pierre sighs looking genuinely sad for her.

"I'm not wearing red." Y/n mumbles before looking at Charles beside her then she starts laughing as Pierre moves to hug her, picking her up from the ground and beginning to run away with her. "Oh...you're so mean. You're supposed to be the one who doesn't upset him."

"He makes it too easy." Pierre argues before placing her down and looking back at Charles. "You should both just tell everyone. They already know."

"No they don't. Lando just finished his weekly attempt at stealing her." Charles argues before they finally arrive at the Ferrari unit. "If you try I will crash into you on purpose."

Pierre surrenders his hands before he smiles winking at y/n who shakes her head with a small smile since she has formed a friendship with the Frenchman thanks to his friendship with Charles.

The day goes on with George and Lance both pretending to flirt with the young woman who actually gets a little flustered and when Liam Lawson comes over with a few of the F2 drivers, including Arthur who is more there to see his brother. She is swarmed and overwhelmed by the younger men making the effort to completely bombard her.

"Guys, I think you have qualifying to get to." Charles exclaims making the F2 drivers realise that actually he's not wrong.

Though of course, they all make an effort to take y/n's hand, each kissing the back of it as a goodbye some managing to get a hug. Though Arthur is the only one who is completely crushed in a hug from her before she pushes him to leave.

Meanwhile, Charles gets y/n out of sight of others as they end up in his driver's room and he groans as she sits down and he flops down with his head landing in her lap as he rubs his face into her tummy.

"You know there is one solution." Y/n sighs knowing that her boyfriend was not the main reason they tried to remain as appearing as only friends.

"I'm not forcing you to go out an admit our relationship when you aren't comfortable with it. They can be savages with the way they speak about girlfriends." Charles sighs shaking his head as he rolls onto his back and looks up at her.

"They're not all bad, Kika is loved by everyone and no one hates Carmen." Y/n tries though even she has to admit it's hard to sound confident about it.

There's a fear about going public. It comes with the territory that one day it can't be hidden, but Charles is one of the most popular drivers and some of his female fans seem to get jealous over any woman associated wit him. His constant denial of dating y/n is the only thing that has protected her from having the vicious and sharpened teeth of media and those more fear-inducing fans really going in on her.

Though even now some of them tell her to just stop hanging out with him and using him for clout because no one cares about her. The first time she saw someone say that online, it stung. It was hard to take that from someone who knew nothing about her other than her name and that she's close to Charles.

"We will tell them one day, y/n. But when you're ready, until then I will just wait and deal with the other drivers who know just how amazing of a woman you are." Charles smiles softly then sitting up so he can kiss her, his smile being enough to warm her from the inside out and just completely reassure her than he's not going anywhere.

It took another 3 months.

3 months of her attending races (not every single one because that would definitely raise suspicion about their relationship status) and being flirted with by the multiple of the drivers. Though with a recent addition of Pato in the McLaren team as their new reserve driver, he's joined up with Lando to flirt with her when given the chance.

It took some long conversations with Kika and with Charles for her finally to decide that she was really ready to handle what might be thrown at her.

But finally today. They're out in the open. Celebrating 6 months and Charles was so proud to finally hard launch them on his Instagram. The first picture being one of him helping her put his helmet on.

"Y/n!" Lando exclaims running towards her and in an effort to hug her, he finds Charles scooping her up and spinning around leaving him nearly stumbling past them.

"No. You have played your games. We are out and dating, she is mine." Charles declares still holding y/n up off the floor almost like a toddler as he speaks to Lando who is grinning ear to ear.

"I was coming to say it's about time the two of you finally stopped hiding. I mean we all knew. Carlos is the worst gossip. But it was fun to watch to look ready to punch me in the face." Lando laughs as y/n just sort of smiles at him while still being held off the floor by her boyfriend who seems to not have noticed he's still preventing her from putting her feet down.

"It was Carlos?!" Charles gasps in a very melodramatic manner.

"I don't think he meant to. It just came out when people were asking about y/n...are you ok there?" Lando questions making Charles look before finally placing her down as he realises that she's just silently allowing the two men to talk.

"Sorry, baby." Charles frowns checking her over like he really just hurt her or something.

"I'm ok. And thanks, Lando. For the patience." Y/n smiles since she really knew everyone else knew, she knew that's why so many of the drivers flirted with her too. Because while Charles and her tried, they also didn't try all that hard to hide the looks and the affections. "Even if you made Charles consider risking his career just to attack you after the last time."

The last time being Lando managing to pull y/n into a quick dance that had her laughing and had Charles restraining himself but his fists were very much at the ready to be thrown at Lando's face.

There has been more hate in the few days since they went public, there's also been a lot of love. Y/n has filtered her comments and Charles has added to the filters in his comments. Neither want to see what the nastier people have to see about them being together or even just about y/n on her own.

Lando takes off and the rest of the weekend is spent with all the drivers who enjoyed flirting with y/n as a means to wind Charles up congratulating them on their relationship. A couple even got them gifts for their anniversary.

Though what really made y/n tear up was when some fans gave Charles some bracelets and then handed him one instructing him to give it to y/n because it would match with his. That was the last thing she'd ever expected.

906 notes · View notes

landorris · 2 months

Text

yes, and? | carlos sainz x fem! leclerc reader

summary; where after the big news carlos and yn leclerc decide to breakup

fc; sophia birlem

warnings; english is not my first language, 10 years of age gap (20 to 29/30), mean pierre (nothing against him, is just for the plot)

taglist; @thef1diary @bigsimperika @shobaes @d3kstar @stinkyjax @the-untamed-soul @bibissparkles @judespoision

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

liked by lewishamilton, charles_leclerc and others

f1: As Lewis Hamilton joins ferrari for the 2025 season the big question is who will Carlos Sainz drive for in 2025? Let us know what do you think💭🌶️

user1: he should come back to red bull

user2: the guy is jobless

user3: still richier than you

user4: hope he join mercedes and gives ferrari a lesson

user5: carlos in his reputation era this season

your phone

carlossainz55 insta story/ yourusername insta story

your phone / charles phone

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, landonorris and others

yourusername: guess who i ran into, the one and only, mr.world champ 🇳🇱🏆

user1: THE SKIRT?????

user2: she was so hot that carlos fumbled

maxverstappen1: thank you for the shirt, it really suits me 😉

yourusername: belive me, i know it does

user3: omg they’re flirting

arthur_leclerc: oh you’re so drunk

user4: she’s such a slut already going for other drivers after breaking up with carlos

user5: i don’t know what happened between them but after that dry ass breakup statement he deserves everything that is happening to him

charlesleclerc: that skirt is a little too short don’t you think

yourusername: skirt should be the size of a belt

your phone

yourusername

liked by landonorris, pierregasly and others

yourusername: why do you care so much whose d i ride?!

user1: MOTHER IS MOTHERING

user2: she’s so hot

user3: god bless the leclerc family

charles_leclerc: please delete it

arthur_leclerc: yes, i can’t look at this

yourusername: shut up both of you

pierregasly: 🥵🔥

yourusername: 🥰

user4: who took this photos?

daniel.jpg: no photo credits, i see how it is

yourusername: don’t be mad at me danny boy 🤠

daniel.jpg: blocked

carlossainz

liked by pierregasly, schecoperez and others

carlossainz55: i don’t

user1: carlos, babe this is not it

user2: boy is living his best life fr

user3: this is what happens when you don’t have a brain

schecoperez: call me next time you went on a party like this

carlossainz55: i will

user4: i wonder how charles feels about all this

oneofthegirls: best night ever🤭🔥🌶️

carlossainz55: if you and your friend want to repeat you know where to find me 😉

user5: discussing 🤢

#formula 1 #f1 #moodboard #cars #grand prix #aesthetic #ferrari #red #carlos sainz smau #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz #sainz #f1 smau #f1 x reader #f1 fic #f1 x you

538 notes · View notes

fooled-around-and-fell · 4 months

Note

heyyo, wanted to request an imagine about jensen. maybe they’re best friends who met on the boys or supernatural, she’s been confiding with him about this dude she seeing but jensens kind of into her and is jealous so he doesn’t rlly wanna talk about it, they have some drinks and he says something like “i just don’t think he’s right for you” and ends with smut and happy ending? if that’s okay with you 🤍

a/n: hi! thank you for requesting 🩵 love your idea, but i'm gonna tweak it so that it's dean instead of jensen. hope that's alright! anyway, enjoy love! and i'm so sorry it took me a while!

pairing: dean winchester x female reader

genre: fluff

warnings: smut, 18+ only, mdni, unprotected sex (don't be a hog, cover your log), oral f receiving, dean is huge.

Masterlist

-----

dean is enjoying his night alone. sam's out with a girl, you're out with a guy... alright, he's not enjoying his night as much as he'd like to.

mainly because you left for your date 4 hours ago and you're still not back. it was supposed to be a lunch date, and you're still out. what's taking you so long?

dean grits his teeth. he's being jealous again.

to be completely honest, his perfect night would be a night spent with you in his arms, cuddled in his bed while an episode of your favorite tv show played. but of course, you're both nothing but friends so that's not happening.

not long after, he hears the front door open and rushes to see if it's you. it is, but he wonders why you look glum.

"hey, you're back early." he doesn't actually think it's early.

you sigh as you take your heels off, dropping them on the floor and lying down on the couch.

"didn't go well?"

you groan in response.

dean's heart melts a little. he scooches you over so you're lying down between his legs, resting your weight on his chest.

"wanna talk about it?"

you sigh once again, uncovering your eyes from your arm. "it was actually not that bad. not great, but not terrible."

dean's silent. "what? you want me to get into the details?"

he shrugs, "if you want to. not too detailed though."

"well, not much happened anyway." you say, "we had a long lunch, then we were back at his place making out, and i don't know, the way he was kissing me was a little weird. it was very stiff-"

"sweetheart, it's meant to be stiff-"

"you know that's not what i mean." you hit his arm.

he laughs. "sorry, continue?"

"as i was saying," you emphasize, "his tongue was like jabbing my mouth and for some reason he kept bumping his teeth on mine-- it was turning me off so i left."

dean laughs again, "wow. i'm.. so sorry."

"oh shut up, it's not like you've never had a bad date before."

"that's not what i'm saying. well sort of." he says smugly. "i'm saying i'm sorry you encountered a bad kisser. never happened to me before."

you roll your eyes. "yeah, sure."

"i'm serious." he says.

"dean, you're working all the time, you've never even been with that many women -- i think?"

"i'm a natural, what can i say?"

you scoff and turn your body to look at him, laughing and looking so smug. and looking so good in that shirt that accentuates his muscles in just the right way.

you'd be lying if you said you don't have a crush on dean... to say the least. you've liked him for ages, maybe even love him, but you're almost 100% sure you're not his type.

but now it seems like he's dropping hints and flirting with you, so... might as well take your chances right?

"alright, should we put it to the test then?" you ask.

"huh?"

you pull yourself closer to dean by gripping his shirt and press your lips to his. he's taken aback at first, but slowly moves his lips with yours and circles his arms around you, easing you into his hold.

you've been dreaming about kissing his lips for a long time. he also always looks and smells so good around the house it's annoying.

what's also annoying is that he wasn't lying when he said he's a good kisser. he's taking your breath away and you feel like melting in his arms.

his plush, soft lips, his gentle but firm tongue teasing yours, the bites he leaves on your lips, tugging and definitely bruising.

you try to push him away to take a breath. "come back here," but he just grabs the back of your neck to kiss you again.

a moan escapes you when he readjusts your position so you're now sitting on his lap, and you gasp when you feel something poking your ass.

"sorry," dean chuckles and readjusts himself. he has a smug look on his face, especially when he sees how disheveled you are right now.

"so," he starts, "how did i do?"

you gulp and look away, not sure how to answer him.

he cups your chin so you'll look at him and say, "do you want me to continue?"

you nod slowly.

"words, sweetheart. i need to hear you say it."

you bite your already swollen lip. "i... i want you, dean. i need you. p-please."

he smiles, kissing you again before picking you up to take you to his room. "good girl."

you didn't think dean's words would affect you that much, but it just did. you're clenching around nothing.

dean's having a hard time believing this is happening himself, but the smell of your shampoo, your perfume, the taste of your lips... fuck he's in love.

the door to his room slams shut and he lays you down on the bed.

"sure you want this?" he asks.

"i want you," you say more firmly this time. "only if you feel the same."

"sweetheart," he chuckles, "i've wanted you for a long, long time now."

you roll your eyes at him despite the blush creeping up your cheeks.

"i'm serious." he says, pulling you closer by the waist, his hands roaming around your back until he finds the zipper. "since the moment i saw you."

he zips your dress down and you let out a shaky breath when his hands touch your naked skin.

"i'm.. i'm pretty sure i was covered in dirt and blood when we first met."

he hums, pulling your dress down and tracing his hands closer to your breasts. he's leaving kisses and bites along your neck before licking your ear. "nothing sexier than woman who knows how to fight for herself."

you gasp when he cups your breast, pinching and twirling your nipple while he drowns your moans in his kisses.

you're gripping his shirt, fumbling with the buttons before finally reaching his skin, feeling his toned body, and going down to unbuckle his belt.

he slaps your hand away, trailing kisses down from your lips, and while maintaining eye contact with you, he licks your breast, flicking your nipple with his tongue.

"fuck, dean."

dean twitches in his pants hearing you moan his name like that.

"a thong?" he smirks, pushing the tiny pice of fabric to the side so he can get a good look of your pussy. "fuck you're so wet already."

your legs instinctively try to close, but dean keeps them open with his hands, slapping your thigh in the process. He can't hide his smile when he sees you clench around nothing as he does that.

"stop smiling like that." your face turns red.

"like what?" he knows exactly what you're talking about. grinning, biting his lip, driving you crazy.

"you know, it's quite unfair." you say, squirming under his touch.

"what is?" he asks, breath hitting your exposed sex and fingers inching closer.

you buck your hips up wishing for some sort of friction and groan. "i'm naked, and you still have your pants on."

He hums. "i kinda like it like this. you're spread wide and so.. so.. pretty..." he suddenly licks a stripe up your slit, lingering and circling your clit. "all for me."

"holy shit." you throw your head back.

dean doesn't stop there. He keeps licking and sucking, dipping his tongue inside you every once in a while. he traces your slit with his fingers before pushing two digits in, curling them and making you arch your back.

"dean," you moan his name, tugging his hair as he's about to make you come.

he keeps his eyes on you, and you're staring back at him before the coil inside you finally snaps and your toes curl, your orgasm washing over you.

dean slows his movements, still toying with your clit to help you with your high until you're flinching away, the sensation a little too much.

he chuckles seeing your worn out state and stands up, his five o'clock shadow covered in your juices.

as you catch your breath, you reach for his belt again. he doesn't slap your hand away this time, letting you take it off and undo his jeans.

"fuck," you whisper to yourself when you see his size and how hard he is.

dean takes the rest of his pants off and joins you in bed, kissing you and guiding your hand to touch him. he lets out a shaky breath when you finally grab the base of his cock and start pumping a few times.

"god you're beautiful," he says.

you chuckle, lining his cock with your entrance.

"and impatient." he teases, nudging his tip while coating himself in your wetness.

"dean, i swear-"

he pushes in one swift motion, knocking the breath and words out of you.

"mm. fuck." he moans. "you were saying?"

you moan before pulling him down to kiss you. "move... please."

he pulls almost all the way out before pushing back in, slowly increasing his pace. his grip on your waist is almost bruising, but the look he has on you is going to leave a permanent mark for sure.

dean's hand cups your cheek, and you turn your head slightly to take his thumb in your mouth, sucking gently while keeping his gaze.

"son of a...." he groans out loud.

dean almost rests his weight on you, allowing you to cling to him and pull him closer. your orgasm is approaching quickly, and you squeeze around him to hold on just a bit longer, clawing his back in the process.

"dean, i'm gonna come." you moan, "fuck you're gonna make me come."

"yeah?" he smiles, thrusting a little harder and deeper. "let go. come for me."

you let your orgasm wash over you, and a moan escapes when you feel him filling you up. you two stay like that for a minute, in each other's arms, his head buried in your neck leaving kisses while you play with his hair.

"so," dean says, lifting himself off of you. "let me take you to dinner?"

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester #dean x reader #dean winchester smut #dean winchester x reader smut #dean x reader fluff #spn #dean winchester spn #dean winchester supernatural #dean spn #supernatural fic

498 notes · View notes

nishibons · 2 months

Text

𝐇𝐄𝐘, 𝐈𝐓’𝐒 𝐌𝐄 . . .

or piwon pining thoughts/texts

warnings na genre fluff word count eight hundred excluding texts

note hiii everybody!! sorry i disappeared for a bit but ive been busy with uni TT i got an 85 on my recent assignment tho so everybody cheer… anyway ive been obsessed with piwon lately hence this post but fear not i have an enha version coming soon

keeho

confident but humble. he doesn’t have any expectations for your relationship but hopes that you’ll eventually catch on to his borderline obnoxious flirting, and better yet, reciprocate. if you do happen to return his feelings, he doesn’t waste any time in asking you out properly, because why wait? his friends say he laughs too loud around you for you to not know about his feelings, but he swears that they’re just being dramatic… he’s so normal and chill about you, really, that joke about the refrigerator or something was just funny!

taeyang

an absolute menace. you end up assuming that he hates you with how he stares you down whenever you enter his vicinity and with how he exchanges hushed whispers with his friends from across the room, silenced only when he turns his head far away enough to steal glances at you. eventually, once he asks for your number under the guise of it apparently being weird that you were the only two between your mutual friend groups to not have exchanged numbers, he plays into this idea, hoping he can pull off some sort of enemies to lovers trope, because it always works in books, right? in truth, he’s just a little bit apprehensive about the vulnerability that comes with liking someone, and tries to preserve his pride with thinly veiled insults that upon second glance quickly fall apart. can you melt his icy cold heart? (the answer is yes.)

jiung

likes you from the very beginning, but is a strong believer in the idea that lovers should be friends first, so he tries his best to establish a genuine relationship with you before he even begins to think about making any moves. he shows strong initiative even throughout your friendship–whether it’s invitations to meet up for lunch, to see that movie you’ve been eagerly waiting the release of, or even paying for your coffee every single time, he’s quick to assure you and dispels any worries you might have about repaying him with a wave of his hand and a bright smile–your company is enough, he says, and if you end up falling for him (who wouldn’t?) he, of course, eagerly awaits the day he can take you for an actual date, but enjoys every moment he spends with you until then just as much.

intak

by far the most shameless with his affection. he can’t help it–you have him hopelessly whipped from the very beginning and he’s terrible at hiding it anyway, so why not lean into it? the first to jump up from his seat when you mention being thirsty–water or juice? and the first to compliment you regardless of the circumstances of your meeting, even on those days you can’t manage anything but a sweater pulled hastily over your shoulders and a messy updo. it’s impossible not to feel flattered around him, and he’s honestly not even actively trying to flatter you, he’s just being wholly honest. if you ever want to shut him up, just compliment him back–hopefully you have a stretcher on hand!

shota

the cutest ever. you catch him staring at you more than a few times before he eventually works up the nerve to approach you, and initially you’re intimidated–but the moment he opens his mouth you know that he’s harmless, and obscenely adorable to beat. he’s not the greatest at expressing himself with words, so he makes sure to show that he likes you by sending you things that remind him of you–songs from an artist he likes, those little figures you collect he sees in the window of a store on the way to work, a rainbow in the sky after a rainy morning. sometimes he provides some commentary, or a cute emoticon, and other times he says nothing, sending only a simple picture and hoping that you can feel even just some of the many emotions that rush through him at the thought of you and have his heart fluttering in his chest when you eventually reply.

jongseob

the sweetest of angels. he doesn’t crush often, but when he does, he crushes hard, so he doesn’t want to mess it up. though he’s rather reserved on the flirting front, he makes sure to send good morning and good night texts every day, without fail, on top of the seemingly random yet innocuous questions he asks throughout the day–what did you eat for lunch? how was work? any thoughts on this new album that just came out? part of it is in hopes that eventually you’ll fall for him as he did you, but he does also take genuine interest in you as a person and wants to know everything about you there is to know if you’ll just give him the chance. flirt with him at all and you’ll very quickly have him turning into a giggling, indecipherably stammering mess.

379 notes · View notes

suashii · 2 months

Text

— 𝒿𝑒𝒶𝓁𝑜𝓊𝓈𝓎, 𝒿𝑒𝒶𝓁𝑜𝓊𝓈𝓎 ౨ৎ

suna rintaro x reader. 1.6k wc. ﾉ sfw ﾉ fluff ﾉ college au ﾉ suna and reader are roommates ﾉ jealousy ofc :3 ﾉ + atsumu appearance !

moving in with suna was a bad idea.

he’s not a bad roommate. sure, he takes extra long showers and uses up all the hot water at least once a week and you’ve had to remind him to wash his dishes every now and then, but he’s not a bad roommate.

your frustration that comes with being suna’s roommate has less to do with him and more to do with the feelings you’ve been hellbent on keeping a secret ever since they became known to you a few weeks ago.

that much is getting harder these days with midterms being upon you. there’s been a girl over the apartment—some chick suna was paired with to work on a presentation. that fact alone doesn’t bother you; suna was kind enough to ask before inviting her over. she’s where your problem lies.

she’s shameless, really. always laughs a little too loud at jokes that aren’t that funny and always sits a little too close to suna when you’re positive the coffee table they’re working at isn’t that small. and the worst part is that suna is oblivious to it all.

even now he’s blissfully ignorant of the way she’s not so discreetly flirting with him. she’s supposed to be packing up to leave but, like she’s had some sort of life-changing revelation, she stops in her tracks and turns to suna, placing a hand on his shoulder. “you have a volleyball game this week, right?”

from the kitchen counter, you roll your eyes and stuff another spoonful of rice into your mouth. you wouldn’t normally eat in the kitchen while she was here but one too many spills by your laptop and the inevitable crumbs left in your bed have kept you from taking your meals back to your room. you’re starting to think a sticky keyboard or the unpleasant feel of tiny pieces of food against your skin would be preferable to whatever you’re about to witness.

suna nods and she pulls her hand away to clap. “perfect! i’ll be there to cheer you on!”

her exaggerated excitement causes you to snort, earning the attention of both of them. there’s a curious expression on suna’s face but the girl is all but staring daggers at you like you popped her bubble of joy and ruined the moment. you’re tempted to laugh.

“sorry, saw something funny on my phone,” you lie, shooting the two of them a smile before turning around to wash your dishes.

you dawdle at the sink until you hear the front door close. suna appears as you’re drying your hands and you spare him a glance, wondering if he’ll bring up your strange behavior. part of you hopes he does—maybe then you could open his eyes, finally make him privy to that girl’s blatant attraction to him.

he doesn’t question it, though. instead, he asks, “can i see what you were laughing at?”

❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎

“you don’t get it, ‘tsumu, she’s actually the worst,” you tell him, dramatically dropping your head on his shoulder.

“why don’t you just leave when you know she’s coming over?”

your eyes cut over to atsumu, an unsavory frown tugging at your lips due to his outrageous suggestion. you can’t believe your best friend would side with her. “why should i? i’m the one who lives here.”

“because, clearly, it’s bothering you.” he isn’t the least bit apologetic for his outlandish recommendation. “look, it’s either that or you come out and tell suna that you like him. i’m tired of hearing you bitch and moan every time i’m here. we’re supposed to be watching them do that.” atsumu points to the screen of your laptop that’s playing some trashy reality show the two of you are hooked on.

you click your tongue at his blunt response, lifting your head from his shoulder. maybe he’s right—complaining won’t get you anywhere, but you’re too proud to tell him so. “hey. this is the thanks i get for putting up with your relationship problems? you ungrateful brat.”

you flick his forehead which elicits a shocked gasp from the blonde. a victorious grin is in the process of making its way to your lips when the plush of one of the many stuffed animals you keep in your room hits your cheek. your jaw drops in surprise at atsumu’s courageous counter.

“i’m going to kill you.”

you aren’t usually one for using your precious plushies as a weapon but any one within your reach is promptly launched at the setter. he dodges some and is whacked by others, all while theatrically screeching for you to stop. you’ve still got some steam left by the time you run out of ammunition and atsumu can tell. he reaches out, taking your wrists in his hands to prevent you from doing anything.

“wait, i’m sorry,” he breathes out, strands of messy hair falling in front of his face. “truce?”

you’re considering whether or not you want to take him up on his offer when your door swings open. suna’s on the other side.

his eyes scan the room, taking in the mess of colorful stuffed animals strewn across the space before they land on you. not you, but the way atsumu’s holding you. something about it makes his jaw tighten.

“hey.” your voice, breathier than usual, convinces suna to meet your eye. “what’s up?”

the scene he walked in on almost made him forget why he’d come by in the first place. “i’m ordering food. do you want anything?”

you hum in contemplation and then smile. “i’ll have whatever you’re having.”

he nods, readying to close the door. “i’ll call you when it’s here.”

the click of the door shutting sounds over the indiscernible voices coming from your laptop. taking your hands back from atsumu, you straighten out your clothes as thoughts of suna cross your mind. he usually finds any way to make a conversation drag, lingering in your doorway even when you’ve told him to leave so you can go to sleep.

you’re about to ask atsumu if he caught on to his friend’s abnormal lack of words, but he’s got another idea.

“yeah, thanks, i don’t want anything,” atsumu shouts at the closed door.

forty minutes pass before the episode ends and atsumu takes his leave. you see him out, planning your next viewing party as he puts on his shoes. he whispers something about settling shit with suna before then so he isn’t subject to your fussing the next time he comes around and darts down the hall before your fist can meet his shoulder.

you make a mental note to get back at him when you see him tomorrow as you shut the door and spin on the ball of your foot. from the foyer, you can see suna situated at the coffee table. there are plastic delivery bags on the surface and he seems to have already started eating from his portion.

“what happened to letting me know when the food was here?” you ask, shuffling over to his figure and plopping down on the floor beside him.

through a mouthful of noodles, he replies, “i didn’t want to interrupt.”

you almost scold him for talking with food in his mouth but then his words register. your eyebrows furrow as you split your wooden chopsticks. “interrupt what, exactly?”

it’s petty, he knows, but he can’t ignore the feeling that’s been gnawing at him since he saw atsumu touching you so comfortably. it’s like the image is seared into his eyelids and he’s forced to see it every time he blinks.

“i don’t know.” he flicks a mushroom with his utensil. “just seemed like you two were in the middle of something when i walked in.”

you hum, not paying much mind to his words as you pick up the stir-fry with your chopsticks. the noodles hang right in front of your lips when you respond, “i guess we kind of were.”

suna frowns at your answer. he wanted to hear you say it was nothing so he could kick himself for being so unreasonably bent out of shape. instead, your reply fuels him to ask the question he’d been wondering about for nearly the past hour. “are you and atsumu together?”

“what?” you sputter around your noodles. you want to tell him no but, unlike suna, you aren’t one for talking with your mouth full. your silence, however, only leads suna to keep going.

“i don’t care if you are but you should have told me so i wouldn’t just barge in on-”

“i’m not dating atsumu,” you finally reveal after swallowing your food. you’re not sure what possesses you to say the next part—perhaps you feel the need to really drive your point home—but it comes out speedily. “i like you.”

quiet blankets the room following your declaration. the two of you stare at each other with parted lips, suna’s eyes slightly widened in surprise. his lack of a response makes your heart beat heavily against your chest. it’s loud in your ears and you wonder if he can hear it too.

you breathe out an awkward laugh after a couple more seconds of silence. “look-”

“i like you, too,” suna admits.

“jeez, suna, you should have just said that!” you slap his shoulder, cheeks warming in belated embarrassment. “i thought i was going to have to move out because of one-sided feelings.”

“sorry.” he chuckles, rubbing the spot you had just hit. it didn’t hurt, but it felt different than the ones he had been met with in the past. he could get used to the tingles you leave behind on his skin. “i had to let it set in.”

thanks for reading! reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated :3

#₊˚ପ⊹ signed: haikyuu #suna x reader #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #suna x you #haikyuu x you #suna fluff #haikyuu fluff #suna drabble #haikyuu drabbles

394 notes · View notes

lizard-on-a-window-pane · 1 year

Text

Jealous James

request: “i was wondering if you could write something smutty with James but it’s possessive smut coz some guy was flirting with her. It’s like James overstimulating her to the point where she can’t form anything but his name and he gets so smug and shit.” / “i can’t stop thinking about James Potter and him getting jealous about seeing a guy hit on reader but she’s too innocent to know what’s going on so when they get home it’s like soft but possessive sex with him.”

pairing: James Potter x reader

summary: just the requests, mostly smut!

warnings / tags: NSFW (minors do not interact!), rough sex, eating out, fingering, p in v, mention of afab parts but no pronouns or much gendering, established relationship, cocky lovable James

word count: 2.9k

“Nice t-shirt. Great band,” you hear from beside you as you wait at the bar for yours and James’s next round of drinks.

“Oh, thanks! They’re great aren’t they?” you reply, friendly. You love talking about the things you like, and sometimes you don’t get a lot of chances because your friends and boyfriend — all of whom you love to death — don’t always share your taste.

“The best! What’d you think of the new album?” he asks, continuing the conversation.

“It was really good, I reckon. But I’m not sure I like it as much as the last one,” you reply. “Maybe I just need to give another listen or two.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

You smile and nod then turn back toward the bartender preparing your drinks, thinking that was the end of that.

But he continues, “Who else do you like?” He leans in, but you think little of it, aware of the loud bar and thinking he couldn’t hear you well otherwise.

You mightn’t’ve thought much of it, but across the bar, James’s eyes are on you like a hawk.

He sees the random bloke step toward you, sees your friendly smile, and he can’t help but feel a twinge — okay, maybe a bit more than a twinge — of jealousy surge up inside him. He tries to push it down, knowing it’s silly, knowing he trusts you completely. He tries to look away…but lasts about one second before his eyes shoot back at you, glued to the small distance between you and his new enemy.

No, no; not, his enemy, that would be silly. Overreacting.

Yet, his glare hardens as the man takes yet another step towards you. He says something, leaning in. You laugh, your nose wrinkling. And James, well, James’s grips tighten.

His mind plays ping pong between his two options: stay here, go interfere; stay here, go interfere. The man steps closer, and James opts for the latter.

You go on about your favorite band, how their sound is similar to (but better than) that of the band whose t-shirt you’re proudly sporting. He leans even closer, a bit too close for you, even though you are enjoying the musical conversation. You step back but speak louder so he can still hear you. He steps closer again, and you step back and speak up even louder.

Then you feel a hand on the small of your back. You’re about to step away when you hear a familiar, lovely voice in your ear. “All good with the drinks, darling?” James asks, standing beside you. The man backs away a bit.

“Yeah, it’s fine.” You smile sideways at your boyfriend, relaxing into his touch, then look back at the man in front of you. He looks a bit put out, looking at James and not at you.

“Great. Wait for you over there, then,” James says and kisses your forehead before heading back to your booth.

You’re a bit confused but go to finish the thought you were sharing about the new album. As you do, though, your confusion increases rather than decreases when the friendly bloke in front of you is no longer looking at you, looking straight forward at the bartender instead, cold shoulder turned toward you. You shrug, grab the drinks finally placed in front of you then make your way back to James and the others in your shared booth.

James is squirmy when you sit back down next to him, placing his drink in front of him.

“What’s wrong?” you ask.

“Nothing,” he says, a bit too quickly, wrapping his arm around you and taking a sip of his drink, tilting his head back toward Sirius, who is in the middle of telling a very animated story.

You try to shake it off — not succeeding completely, a strange discomfort still lingering — and listen to Sirius’s story too while James’s grip tightens on your shoulder.

Even as a few minutes pass by, he still feels tense next to you, and it worries you. “You sure you’re alright?” you whisper in his ear.

He shivers next to you, but simply nods and says “mmhhmm” as he looks briefly at you.

The evening proceeds: stories exchanged and enjoyed, drinks gotten and finished, friends teased and laughed with.

The night finds you outside, arms around yourself in the cold weather, waiting for James who had to pop back in to the bar when he realized he had forgotten his hat.

“Cold night, huh?” a familiar voice asks next to you. You turn to see the guy from earlier standing right next to you. “Yeah, a bit,” you smile, not giving him much attention, hoping James will hurry so you can get home and under comfy, warm blankets as soon as possible.

“So, listen,” the guy goes on, “if you ever want to give that new album a listen with some company…” he hesitates then moves closer to you, pulling his phone out of his pocket. “Then maybe you can let me know, gorgeous,” he finishes, handing you his phone with a “new contact” entry open.

“Oh… uh…” you stutter, not grabbing his phone. “Thanks, but I’m on my way home,” you say a bit lamely, not sure what to say but not interested in giving him your number.

“It’ll only take a second, won’t it?” he asks, stepping even closer. You step back, reeling for what to say.

James finds his hat on the booth seat, putting it on as he makes his way back toward the door. He can’t help but feel a bit bad; he knows jealousy isn’t healthy, knows you probably couldn’t even tell that guy was hitting on you. For Godric’s sake, it took him forever to make it clear to you that he was flirting with you before you got together. Still, he just wanted to protect you from unwanted advances… and maybe, just maybe, make it clear to that other bloke that you were taken… by him. He shakes his head at his possessive thoughts, but as he steps out of the bar, he sees you stepping away from said bloke. At the first sign of your discomfort, his protective instincts surge infinitely higher than his possessive ones as he wraps his arm around your shoulders, putting himself between you and the man approaching you. “Ready to head home, love?” he asks.

“Yeah,” you smile, a bit stiffly, as you walk away from the bar under his protective arm. You give the (overly)friendly guy a grin as you turn away.

You’re putting your coat on the hanger when you feel James’s hands on your hips, his breath on your neck. “You have a nice time tonight, sweets?” he asks into your neck, kissing there.

“Mmmhmm,” you reply in pleasure, leaning back into him.

“Mmm,” he hums into the crook of your neck, his grip tightening on your hips. He nips at your skin and slips his fingertips under your shirt. Usually he caresses your skin when his hands slip under, but this time, he finds his tight grip again right away. You feel his teeth scrape your neck and shiver at the sensation.

You’re enjoying it, certainly, but you can’t shake the feeling that something is off. James feels stiff; he has for a while. You turn in his arms, but his grip remains tight around your waist now that you are facing each other. “You alright, Jamie?”

“Yeah. Fine. Good. All good,” he responds, his tone tense.

You arch an eyebrow at him, enough to convey how unconvinced you were.

He keeps eye contact with you, but after a beat, he lets out a long, loud exhale. You can see his shoulders ease at the relief of it. You rub his chest over his soft jumper.

“It’s nothing, just me being a bit of an idiot.” He tries to laugh as if dropping the conversation there.

“Hm. I dunno, love; you’re an idiot a lot of the time, but it doesn’t seem to bother you then,” you smirk shyly. He jokingly glares at you.

“That bloke tonight…” “Which one?” You mean it initially; you’d already forgotten. His glare becomes less joking. “C’mon, y/n, you know. The one who was hitting on you all night. Don’t tell me you didn’t notice… you seemed like you were enjoying it even.” His eyes are colder than usual, and you hate it. You go to defend yourself, but stop in your tracks. You want to comfort him, but you didn’t do anything wrong and don’t want to apologize out of habit.

You opt for, “You trust me?” Another relieving breath; his eye soften. “Of course I do.” His hand makes its way to your cheek, caressing you. “It’s not that I don’t, love. I trust you completely. I just can’t help but hate seeing you with some other bloke who so clearly wants to get into your knickers.” His thumb traces your bottom lip a bit harshly. “I like being the only one who gets to touch you…” His thumb slips just the tiniest bit into your mouth.

“You getting possessive, Potter?” you whisper into his hand shakily. “Not exactly.” He moves closer. “I don’t want to possess you; I want to pleasure you,” he whispers lowly into your ear.

Pleasure shoots down your spine from the place his lips made contact.

“Oh?” You’re melting already.

“Mm,” he groans affirmatively. “I want you ruined for any other man… I don’t want you looking at any other man not because you’d feel you shouldn’t but because you wouldn’t even want to… I want you completely satisfied… by me.” His voice is low, firm, setting you on fire.

You peck his finger where it still rests in front of your mouth. “You do,” you murmur. “Satisfy me, I mean…” He’s better at assertiveness than you, your shyness creeping in the moment you get turned on. Your gaze travels back and forth between his eyes.

He holds your gaze, his lips parted, and nods slowly, wordlessly.

“But maybe… you could… you know… remind me?” you whisper.

His expression turns devilish immediately, his eyes at once alight with mischief and darkened by lust.

“Oh? You need reminding, do you?” He steps forward, forcing you back against the wall. His hand on your face grips it tightly, fingers on one cheek, thumb on the other. The squeeze purses your lips.

He moves his face toward yours at a tremendously slow pace. Your foreheads touch; your noses meet, and without further waiting, James slips his tongue directly into your mouth. You hum around it, and you think you hear him giggle. Everything sounds as if you’re underwater now, though, your blood rushing, your head light from how turned on you’re getting. You love when he’s like this, and he knows it.

His hand on your face moves quickly to the back of your head, pulling you into him, his fingers twining into your hair. His other hand comes up from your hip to your breast, palming and squeezing roughly.

Your lips part in your pleasured sigh, and he takes the opportunity to bite down on your lower lip. You yelp in pleasured pain, and this time you’re sure you hear him laugh.

He pulls your shirt off and pins your arms above your head as he does. His gaze on you is playful but predatory. He looks at your chest hungrily, eyes going from one breast to the other.

He slips his finger into the band of your bra and says, “You make these look nice, love, but I still hate that you wear them.”

He yanks the cups down and buries his face there, kissing and groaning. Your head knocks back against the wall when he sucks harshly on your nipple. You’re squirming in his grasp, pushing your chest up into him, loving the feel of his mouth.

He sucks each of your nipples then nuzzles his face between your tits another moment before licking up your chest, your neck, sucking on your jaw while his free hand continues to pinch and pull on your nipples.

He kisses under your ear and rasps, “No one can make you feel as good as I can.” You whimper in response.

He pulls you off the wall, and you think he is going to drag you to the bedroom, but instead, he harshly turns you around in one swift motion and pushes you back against the wall, now your front against the wall, your back to him. The cold, textured wall against your bare, already sensitive chest draws another whimper out of you, and it is elongated into senseless, prolonged “ahh”’s as James sucks on your neck and presses his body against yours. You can feel his hard cock and push your arse back into him. He groans appreciatively in your ear and can’t help but hump into you a couple of times.

You shiver from the cold of his body leaving yours, and it only gets worse when he pulls your trousers and underwear down in one go then pulls your arse cheeks apart with his strong hands, now kneeling behind you.

You’re soaking wet and feel a bit drip down your thigh, but almost as soon as you do, you feel his tongue catch it and lick up your thigh into your slit.

“Can’t have you making a mess in the doorway, can we, love?”

He bites your arse a bit too hard, making you yelp and jump up in place. His grip on you tightens, holding you in place.

“Make a mess on my face instead, yeah?” he asks, no question in his tone as he shoves his face against you, devouring you immediately. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, Jamieee…” One hand pressed against the wall, the other makes its way behind you to grip his thick hair.

He pushes your legs a bit further apart to have better access, and the combination of the less stable stance and the stab of pleasure at his sucking on your clit now that you’re more available to him almost makes you fall over. You feel the vibrations of his chuckling into your cunt, and you can physically feel yourself getting even wetter.

He continues eating you out expertly, his hands massaging your arse as he does. You feel the warmth of one leave your body. You love his hands, and the anticipation of where you will feel it next sends another wave of pleasure through you. He doesn’t disappoint as a moment later you feel his fingers pressing into your slit. He usually takes his time stretching you out, but this time, he plunges two in at once and only a couple of strokes later adds a third. His other hand snakes around to rub your clit.

It only takes a few seconds of this intensity to have you coming around his fingers, rutting and whimpering as you do. He keeps up his efforts to prolong your orgasm, moving even faster as you cum and slowing down as you come back down from your high. After-waves of pleasure are still shooting through you as he removes his fingers and laps at your cunt, licking and sucking and provoking the most pleasant painful tickle. He gives it a final kiss then stands back up behind you.

“I’m gonna fuck you now. Think your legs can take it?” he asserts lowly into your ear. You’re not sure they can, but you nod immediately anyway. You hear his zipper behind you.

“Good girl.” He gives the sensitive spot behind your ear a kiss then his head drops to the crook of your neck where he bites your shoulder as he eases into you. He goes slowly but doesn’t stop until he bottoms out. You feel incredibly full, and between your straining legs and your back arching to help the angle, your entire lower half is taut tight. You can tell you’ll be sore, but in this moment, even the pain is pure pleasure, every sensation heightening the visceral bliss. Deep-seated inside you, James chuckles into your shoulder.

“Fuck you feel good,” he says. “Jamie,” is all you can respond.

“Yeah, baby, say my name again.” “Jamie,” you whimper.

“Tell me who makes you feel this good, love, who makes you feel like no one else can.” “You, James, you. Fuck, James.” And with his first rough thrust, you involuntarily hiss another “James.” And again; and again as he starts pounding you into the wall. He’s nodding behind you; you can feel it, seemingly more to himself than to you as he continues giving you everything he has.

One hand intertwines with yours; the other snakes around you, holding you tight and kneading your breasts. When he feels himself getting close, it moves down to rub your clit in time with his thrusts. It works perfectly, and as you cum around his cock, he groans animalistically as you milk him dry.

You’re both standing there, breathing loudly and heavily, his softening cock still inside you, his head heavy on your shoulder. He pecks you there then half holds half carries you to turn you back around to face him.

“Bloody hell,” he whispers, his forehead pressed against yours, his hands caressing your back. “Jamie,” you whisper back. His grin transforms into a beaming smile at what you hadn’t realized would be the perfect response. His jealousy assuaged, his love spreads through him, pushing and melting away any remaining envy like a warm wave at high tide.

#marauders #marauders fanfic #marauders smut #marauder x reader #james potter #james potter fanfic #james potter smut #james potter x reader #james potter x y/n #james potter x you #reader insert #x reader #x y/n #x you #james potter imagine #james potter one shot #established relationship

2K notes · View notes

usedtobecooler · 1 year

Text

the sex is good | fboy!eddie munson x fem!reader

Pairing | Eddie Munson x chubby/plus size Fem!Reader

Warnings | sexual content 18+ minors dni, unprotected piv sex, oral f receiving, oral m receiving, praise kink, slight degradation, possessiveness, multiple orgasms, alcohol use, drug use, minor fatphobia. fboy!eddie and his shithead friends.

Word Count | 3.7k (sorry)

A/N | fboy!eddie haunts my dreams, this ones for you @newlips

He’s been watching you slinking around Rick’s house all night, hips swaying and ass jiggling with every step — and he wants you. So fucking bad his cock is throbbing already, just thinking about getting you on your knees for him. He’s never seen you around, and you’re like nothing he’s seen before.

You’re overdressed for such a small party, sure. A midnight green satin dress cinching your waist in, tits spilling out the low neck, thick thighs rubbing together as you sway on your feet. Your hair fans over your shoulders, cascades down your back in effortless curls. You’re giggling, laughing at something your leggy blonde friend has said, nude glossy lips smacking together.

“Dude, you could do so much better,” The voice is off to the side of him, he doesn’t even care who it is that’s talking because they’re lying, tonight he wants you and in his eyes you’re the best thing there, “Carol is literally right there, Eddie. Have you seen her ass in those jeans?”

“If you think she looks so good, why don’t you go fuck her?” Eddie snarks, not once taking his eyes off of you. He doesn’t mean that, and his friend knows it too — he may not want Carol tonight, but she was his, too. Anybody lay hands on her and they’d know about it.

Eddie’s eyebrows furrow as Harrington makes an appearance from behind the doorway, two red solo cups in hand as he flashes a glint of pearly white teeth at you and your friend, offering the cups out. Eddie watches as you flush red at the attention, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear, thanking Steve when he hands over the alcohol.

He doesn’t like it. The way Harrington’s clearly flirting with you, bumping his shoulder into yours as you laugh together like he just said the funniest shit ever. He shouldn’t have been shocked, Steve was always competition for him.

“Fuck it,” Eddie mutters to himself, finally having enough of the exchange going on right in front of his eyes, clambering off of the couch and slapping his friends knee in the process, “If it’s that easy for Harrington to charm the pants off of her, this should be a walk in the fucking park.”

“I don’t think you have to worry about that, Eddie. She’ll be happy to have the attention,” One of his goons pipes up from the other side, resulting in a less than subtle middle finger raised in his direction.

Eddie didn’t discriminate when it came to women — he loved them all. Chubby or thin, tall or short, big tits or little tits, he didn’t care. If you were hot, you were hot.

And you absolutely were, just what he needed on this particular night. And he loved the thrill of chasing new tail, which was adding to his overall attraction to you.

It’s almost like God is on his side, when Steve leans down to peck you on the cheek lightly before bidding you and your friend goodbye. Eddie hides the clench of his jaw, knowing that regardless of how Steve touched or kissed you, he was gone now and out of the picture for the foreseeable. Leaving you wide open for him to pounce in and make his move.

“Oh for God sake,” Your friend rolls her eyes, utter disgust in her voice, folding her arms over her chest when he arrives at your side, “Hey, Eddie. This is —”

“The hottest babe in this place,” Eddie cuts her off, winking at you. He looks at you unabashedly, drinking you in with heavy eyes full of clear lust. You fluster under his gaze — he’s very intimidating. He’s clearly very sure of himself.

You blush, flipping your hair over your shoulder and fanning your face with your perfectly manicured nails. You were even better up close, plump lips in a constant pout, eyes sultry behind the dark makeup. The satin of your dress hugged to the curve of your belly cutely, cinching in your waist enough to have your plump frame shaped slightly more hourglass than usual.

Your friend blinks at you slowly, eyeing you both before making her decision, “I’m gonna go find Rick, see you bozos later.”

“I thought she’d never leave,” Eddie’s voice has a mocking, sarcastic tone behind it as he speaks. He takes her place, standing in front of you, only closer, enough so that his whisky laced breath fans your face — he pouts, “I don’t think your friend likes me very much.”

“She did warn me that you might be here,” You laugh, taking a sip of your drink, grimacing at the bitter aftertaste the tequila leaves behind on your tongue, “I was told before I came here to watch out for you, I’ve heard you’re bad news around these parts.”

“Aw sweetheart, m’not bad news. I just like to fuck and it kinda gets me in trouble,” He says it like it’s just that easy and it shocks you, how open and bold he is.

You school your face, “Ah, so that’s what you’ve slid over here for? In hopes of getting in my panties? And here I was, thinking you wanted to make friends.”

“Was it not obvious?” Eddie replies smoothly, slowly backing you up until you’re flush against the wall with nowhere to go — he towers over you, a hand coming out so he can brace himself against the drywall.

You glance to the side, taking in the sight of his thick fingers clad in harsh rings quickly before allowing your eyes to settle heavily on his own for the first time, properly taking in his appearance.

He’s hot, but you’re aware he already knows that himself. Looks like he stepped out of an ‘80s rock mag with the shaggy haircut, a scruffy beard, tattoos lacing his neck in harsh splatters of black and grey. He has a lip ring, tugs on it between his teeth — it makes your cunt flutter, and you have to clench your thighs together to relieve the throb of your clit, suddenly all too aware of your own arousal.

“I mean, I’m flattered really,” You smile sweetly and put on your best doe eyes, not letting on for even a second that you’re interested, “I was kinda hoping Steve would come back, though. He’s real cute, and I’ve heard he’s got a big dick. I wanna see what the fuss is about.”

Eddie narrows his eyes at you, a flash of annoyance swiping his features, “Harrington has all the equipment and doesn’t know what to do with it, sweetheart. You’re not missing out on much.”

Lies. Lies. Lies. But he can’t have you slithering from his grasp, not now that he’s actually had to put some fucking effort in when there are at least ten other chicks in this house who would fuck him without a second thought.

“Aw, I’m disappointed,” You pout, jutting out your glossed bottom lip, pretending like you even believed a word of what he just said, “Take me somewhere and show me a good time then, Munson. I’m bored of this back and forth.”

His hands are everywhere on you the second he kicks the door shut with his boot, crowding up into your body and gripping at your waist, fingertips squeezing the doughy flesh, “Let me show you how I fuck, babe. Swear you’ll never so much as think about any other cock again.”

You’re hazy from the alcohol, trying to keep your face neutral, but clearly even you aren’t immune to Eddie’s charm. Not now that his big palms are engulfing you and making you feel tiny, his lips almost brushing your own as he invades your space. A small whimper escapes your lips before you can even stop it.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” Eddie grins, backing you up against the bed until the backs of your knees are knocking the edge. His left hand slides along the soft satin of your dress, gliding down your back and pulling the material up along with his wandering fingers. Leaving your ass bare for grabbing — which he does, taking a large handful of your supple fat and squeezing tightly, pulling you flush to him.

“Is that a gun in your pants or are you just happy to see me?” You joke, though your voice quivers from the nerves, a gasp leaving you when you feel the hard outline of his cock pressing into your lower belly.

Eddie rolls his eyes, slapping his hand down on your ass and earning a quiet moan from you, the same hand coming back to soothe the stinging skin just as quickly, “That smart mouth needs shutting up before it gets you in trouble, sweetheart.”

You pull a face and oh, he doesn’t like that. Something darkens behind Eddie’s eyes as he pushes you back onto the mattress, knocking the breath out of your lungs and startling you slightly.

His wandering hands roughen slightly as he rucks up the material of your dress up the pudge of your belly, dropping to his knees on the hardwood floor, spreading your thighs and pulling your panties to the side.

Eddie buries his face into your pussy, the burn of his harsh stubble on your sensitive folds a surprisingly pleasurable feeling. You’re shocked — never in your life had a man like Eddie ever been known for eating pussy, yet here he was, tongue slithering out and lapping at your wet hole.

“Oh fuck, Eddie,” You whimper, fingers winding tightly in the sheets as he licks at your slit with the flat of his tongue, pointing it when he reaches your clit, flicking the sensitive nub hard.

One of his hands grips at the meat of your thigh to keep your legs spread, the other lays flat over the bump of your tummy to hold you down, stop you from bucking up off of the mattress and away from the pleasure of his tongue.

You can’t hold back your moans as he goes down on you with ridiculous enthusiasm, finding a perfect rhythm almost immediately — like he knows your body and knows what you want without even having to try. He maps you out quickly, figures you like your clit being sucked, his tongue sliding into the tight heat of your cunt.

“Shit, shit,” You tremble, eyes watering as your hips twitch up into Eddie’s mouth, unable to help it. He doesn’t stop you either, buries his face in even deeper and suckles at your clit harder. You slide a hand into his hair tentatively and he keens into it, lets you drag your fingers through his tresses and tug lightly.

He moans into the heat of your cunt, the vibrations catching you off guard and dragging you towards the edge ridiculously quickly. “Eddie, m’gonna cum,” You warn, tugging his hair harder as the winding in your tummy builds.

Your orgasm crescendos, deafening in your ears as your tummy coils and unravels just as quickly, a gush of slick spilling from your fluttering hole and making a mess of Eddie’s mouth and chin. He laps it up like a man starved, pushing his face even tighter into your pussy to get every last bit.

You can barely comprehend what’s happening as you shiver through it, body going limp and floppy as Eddie sucks your clit as a final act, before leaning back on his haunches and slapping your inner thigh.

“Up on the bed and on all fours, now,” Eddie commands, and you do as you’re told, flipping onto all fours and arching your back for him. Your tits spill out of your dress at this angle, tight nipples sliding teasingly against the material of the comforter beneath you.

You hear him unbuckling his belt, and you can’t help the way the nerves wrack through your body in anticipation. You can’t see anything from this angle, can only hear as his clothes hit the floor and feel as the bed dips under the weight of him pushing between your legs. He pulls your panties even further to the side, completely soaked in your cum, snagging the head of his cock along your cunt, getting himself wet with your slick.

He slides into the tight heat of your pussy with minimal resistance, bottoming out with a grunt. You wiggle your hips, a shaky breath escaping your lips as you try to adjust to the size of his cock — he’s really big, bigger than you anticipated, fitting snug in your walls. Your cunt flutters and he hisses, gripping onto your hip tight;

“Don’t do that shit,” Eddie scolds, punching his hips forward and knocking the breath out of you. His ego won’t let him admit that the tightness of your pussy is getting the better of him, and has him close to his release embarrassingly fast.

“Y’can move,” You whine, desperate to feel him split you apart from the inside. He doesn’t hesitate for even a second, sliding out of you almost fully and immediately sliding back in, ripping an erratic moan from your open mouth. You grasp at the sheets tightly, arching your back for him, “Fuck, you’re so big.”

“You’re tight,” Eddie comments, voice barely wavering as he builds a brutal pace, rolling his hips into the flesh of your ass. Your needy cunt sucks him in with every harsh slap of his hips, and you squirm under the grip, cheeks flushing with every slick noise your pussy makes, “Fuckin’ takin’ it like a good girl.”

You cry out, the praise unexpected. For once, you’re at a loss for words, unable to comprehend anything or feel anything other than Eddie’s bruising grip on your hips and his cock splitting you open. You push back into his next thrust, losing yourself in the feeling.

“Oh shit, just like that,” Eddie grunts, choking on his own tongue as you throw your ass back on him, the slap of skin on skin suddenly deafening in your ears. He grabs a handful of your left cheek, squeezing before he’s slapping his hand down on the rippling flesh, eliciting a whimper from you, “You like that, don’t you sweetheart?”

“Fuckin’ love it,” You cry — you can feel your velvet walls hugging the sheer girth of him so well that every pulse of his cock is easily made out. You’re being stretched so far, yet the initial burn turned pleasurable at an alarming rate, his blunt head gliding along the soft bump of your frontal wall making you dizzy, a deep heat blooming in your belly.

“Can feel you squeezing my cock, baby,” You can hear the grin in his voice, and you can’t even find it in your to be annoyed as you hurtle towards your release fast, “Y’gonna soak me in your cum?”

That’s what does it for you — your entire body dissolving into pleasure as your climax wracks through you, a high-pitched cry spilling from your lips. Your hips stutter as your walls flutter uncontrollably, Eddie’s cock fucking you through it. You feel your cum drool from you, slicking down your mound and making everything impossibly wetter.

“There she is, fuckin’ soaking for me,” Eddie guffaws, cock slipping out momentarily from the sheer slick of your pussy. He grabs hold of himself by the base once more, pushing back into your spasming walls and punching a moan from you.

You go limp after that, pushing your face into the pillow and letting Eddie use you, his grunts filling the air. You need to get up before he gets bored, the little voice in the back of your head niggles at you to do it.

“Pull out, need to taste your cock,” You mumble, drunk and fucked out on the sheer girth of Eddie’s cock fucking you. You’re sensitive, legs quivering and trying to close on their own, and you know you can’t handle much more.

Eddie doesn’t argue, thrusting into the tight heat of your cunt once more before he’s sliding out with a slight hiss — he could never say no to a girl willingly wanting to blow him.

It also meant there was absolutely zero chance of a pregnancy scare. It was a win-win in his book.

You maneuver yourselves until he’s sitting back against the pillows, you perched prettily on your knees between his spread legs. He’s littered in tattoos, covering most of his body, and it makes the pretty pink of his cock stand out even more when it’s flush against the porcelain and black.

You grasp a hold of the thick base in your hand, working your hand up and down slowly, using your own cum as lube. The extra glide from his foreskin helps too, and you suddenly can’t help but wish every man you’d ever been with was uncut — it was just so pretty.

“You don’t mind, do you?” Eddie asks, looking barely bothered by your hands on him as he produces a tin from the bedside drawer, a pre-rolled joint and a lighter inside. You shrug, too busy working up his cock to care about it.

You feel dumb — he’s left you in an absolute mess.

Vaguely aware of a lighter clicking in the background, you lean down and engulf the head of Eddie’s cock in the tight wetness of your mouth, tongue slithering over the slit, cheeks hollowing as you slide down further.

“That’s it sweetheart, you’re fucking filthy,” Eddie almost sounds impressed, watching behind hazy eyes as he takes a drag of his joint, fingers running through your hair and massaging your scalp, gently guiding you down, “You can take more, right?”

You take that as a challenge, relaxing so you can sink down lower, spit spilling from the corners of your mouth, sputtering on your mouthful when the head finally hits the back of your throat.

“Look at me,” Eddie commands, grunting and tugging your tresses between his fingers until your watery eyes are sparkling open. His own orbs are almost black as he watches you with pure lust — his stomach jolts as your glossy lips leave behind pink rings on his cock, “You’re such a pretty mess for me, sweetheart.”

You keen into the praise, sinking down the last of the way until your lips hit your fist. You alternate between sucking and bobbing your head with Eddie’s guidance, relishing in every little moan and whimper you’re punching out of him. He doesn’t give much away, but you can feel his hips growing restless, kicking up slightly.

He smokes away languidly as you absolutely fucking devour his cock — and then something unexpected happens. Eddie hits your gag reflex and your throat closes around your mouthful, squeezing his cock so tight that he’s choking out a deep growl, hips fucking up into your mouth harshly.

“That’s it, baby, taking me like a fuckin’ champ,” Eddie’s voice drips in arousal, and almost a hint of pride there too — no girl had ever been able to take so much of him at once without zero issue, and it was sending him hurtling towards the edge faster than he’d like to admit.

Your nails dig into the meat of his thigh, trying to ground yourself as he completely loses it and uses your mouth. You keep your eyes on him fully, crying around his girth and moaning, hand jerking what little of him is left — you can feel his salty release sliding down your throat and you know he’s close now.

He watches you with hazy eyes, hand fisted tightly in your hair and keeping you pushed down until you’re spluttering so much your throat is spasming around him, “Fuck, babe. M’gonna cum, you gonna let me blow my load in your pretty little mouth?”

You whine around your mouthful, feeling your spit spill from the edges of your stretched lips uncontrollably as he uses you, hips jerking into your mouth, speeding up as he reaches the edge. You nod, swallowing around his cock until he’s grunting.

“Yeah?” Eddie’s grinning, brings the joint to his lips to take another hit — and then you do something completely out of left field, ghosting your fingertips over the taut skin of his balls. He pushes you down onto his cock with a harsh hand, “You’re making me — oh fuck, fuckfuckfuck.”

The thick ropes of his cum fill your mouth at an alarming rate, gagging you in the process as you’re kept in place with a harsh hand and spasming hips. You watch behind tear clouded eyes, a deep heat in your belly as you watch Eddie’s eyes roll into the back of his head, tummy clenching as he just keeps cumming.

Eddie eventually lets you come up for air when you start to slap at his leg, desperately sucking in a breath through your nose. He actually almost looks apologetic when you finally slide off of his flaccid length, swiping at your soaked chin. You know your makeup is ruined now, there’s no way you can return to the party.

“Get yourself cleaned up, sweetheart. I’ll take you back to your little friend and she can take you home, yeah?” He speaks nonchalantly, stubbing out the end of the joint on the corner of the bedside table and leaving the butt behind.

You scoff, rolling your eyes — not even so much as a ‘thanks, bud’, in return for what clearly was the best blowjob of his fucking life, given the state of his reaction to it, “I can make my own way back downstairs, don’t need you to chaperone me, Eddie.”

Eddie chuckles darkly, bending over the side of the bed to retrieve his strewn clothes, “Oh baby, I know. But if I take you then I know you’re not gonna end up with Harrington — you know you can’t fuck him now, right?”

prick #1: ur girl from ricks is fuckin harrington bro

prick #1: he just came in here sayin shes got REAL good pussy

prick #1: does he kno u fucked???

Eddie seethes as he reads the texts, slamming a hand down on his steering wheel in anger, nostrils flaring.

He thought his words made it pretty crystal fucking clear — you were his girl now, didn’t you know that?!

His fingers fly across the screen as he types furiously. You didn’t give him your number, but your friend was happy enough to hand it over not even a day after the party. She was stupid for that, really.

get dressed and be ready in ten. don’t even try to play dumb you know who this is.

You needed to be reminded who you belonged to.

#eddie munson smut #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x fem!reader #newlipsmilestoneoflove #x reader #my fanfic #my work #mine

3K notes · View notes

rinhaler · 4 months

Text

THERE'S NOBODY HERE

CHAPTER SUMMARY: So you're trapped in a cabin with your hot ex who you haven't seen in months as well as his hot friends. Now what? Party and make him jealous, of course.

ex-fiancé!rin x f!reader

WARNINGS : 18+, alcohol consumption, oui'd smoking, shotgunning, lots of flirting, sex talk/discussions, squirting mention, dry humping?? (grinding while dancing), rejection, pet names (baby, princess).

WORDS : 8.6k

notes : this series may be a flop but I like it 😭🫶🏽

LAST CHAPTER┊MASTERLIST ┊ NEXT CHAPTER

Rin’s eyes lower from staring up at you, instead focusing on talking to his brother and the other guests as he comes into the cabin and finally shuts the door behind himself. They’re all catching up, it’s plain to see how close they all are and how happy they are to see each other.

Even Rin looks uncharacteristically happy to see everyone. Usually, the only thing on his mind is football and training. Maybe the holiday season is bringing out this new side of him.

Though you can’t help but feel a little nauseated. You know Sae is just as surprised to see him as you are, but still, if you trusted your better judgement, you wouldn’t have come just in case this happened. Your fingers curl around the banister tightly as you try to steel yourself.

“I can’t believe this.” you whisper to Chigiri, who runs a soft palm soothingly across your back.

“Come on.” he tilts his head towards the top of the stairs, suggesting you go and reassess the situation in the safety of your bedroom. He leads the way, and you follow hurriedly, not getting the chance to see Rin glance up at you disappearing. “It’s giving main character.” Chigiri can’t help but smirk as he shuts the door behind you both.

“It’s giving… I’m fucked.” you laugh back before screaming into a pillow. You pull it away, your hair messed up a little before Chigiri puts it back into place for you. “I literally can’t believe this is happening. So much for no Rin talk all week!”

“Oh fuck, I know. So much for a rebound, too.” he sighs. You do a fake little cry before genuinely groaning in distress as he thinks. “I mean, you could still do it, but it’ll just end up causing drama.”

“Yeah no way, maybe we should leave?” you suggest, and he doesn’t argue. It might be for the best, it’s an uncomfortable, unexpected change in circumstance and both of you can’t help but feel less welcome. “They’re his friends. We were only invited because he wasn’t supposed to be coming.”

“Plus we can spend the week together anyway since you managed to get out of seeing your parents.”

“Right!” you nod excitedly. “Okay, wanna help me pack and then I’ll help you?”

“Sure. But I don’t need help and I know you won’t help anyway.” he chides, laughing softly as he stands tall and looks around thinking about where to start.

Really, nothing gets done. You talk about packing, but you both end up sitting on top of the bed and gossiping more about what happened.

Rin Itoshi is here.

And you haven’t seen him since the breakup. That awful, painful breakup. Enough time has passed that the memory doesn’t feel as raw. But Christ it still hurts. You can still feel the way tears pricked at your eyes and flooded your lash line as you broke things off with him. They cascaded downwards with no sign of stopping as Rin begged and pleaded, sobbing to give him another chance.

You wanted to.

You remember how agonising it felt to deny him that chance. The fear in his eyes as he realised things weren’t going to be fixed with words and he really was losing you forever. The exact moment his heart broke into pieces will be etched in your mind for the rest of your life. The pain of that vision has dulled but is ever present.

And seeing him, now, look at you with such little care is like a knife tearing into your flesh. His lack of smile is like salt and bleach pouring into a fresh wound.

You do your best to hide a fresh tear rolling down your cheek from Hyoma, but it’s too late. He sits up on the bed and leans over to you to wipe it away. And you know what’s coming, a classic pep talk from him that always make you feel better. Even if he can be harsh, he always knows best.

Just as he’s about to speak, though, the door swings open.

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t— are you two a thing now?”

You shake your head, trying to conceal your red, watery eyes from Rin as he stands in the doorway. Hyoma objects. A little too much for your liking. But there isn’t a single indication of jealousy or relief as Rin listens to him speak.

The thought of you moving on doesn’t faze him at all.

“You’re in my room.” Rin tells you, and you nod.

“Rin! I was just about to tell you that your rooms been taken, you’ll have to—” Sae follows his brother into the room, looking at you with a slight look of sorrow as he can tell how upset you are. And if Sae has noticed, Rin definitely has.

“We’ll be gone soon.” you try to sniffle discreetly. You can’t bear looking at Rin, but your eyes meet his brothers as he cocks his head in confusion. “We were just about to pack and head home. You can have your room back, sorry.” you explain. The brothers watch you as you walk over to the wardrobe and begin collecting your clothes, and you’re thankful for the opportunity to hide your face and wipe your shimmering cheeks.

“You’re not serious, are you?” Sae asks, and all you can do is nod. “Rin was going to take the couch.”

“Was I?” he raises an eyebrow and grimaces at his brother who returns a scathing glare back at him. “Don’t leave on my account. I thought we were going to be mature about this.”

“This is being mature, Rin.” you sigh, finally looking at him. “This is your house. Your friends. It’s okay, it makes more sense for us to leave.”

“Chigiri, talk to her.” Sae requests, only to end up disappointed when Chigiri confesses that he agrees with you. He sighs, but tries to think of a solution. “Look, it’s gonna get dark soon. At least wait until morning? You’ve only been here for an hour or so, and you were excited for this. Things don’t have to change.” he reasons, watching you and Hyoma share a look as you consider it.

“It’s a long drive… icy roads… and he’s right about it getting dark.” Chigiri says to you, quietly, though the brothers can hear. You look at all of them as you think, but you focus on Chigiri as he continues. “Why don’t you move your stuff into my room and then Rin can have his own room?” he suggests.

You sigh, nodding. He starts helping you bring your clothes into his room rather than packing them away, and Rin drags his suitcase into his own room so he can unpack when you’re done.

Sae helps with your stuff, too, sticking around in Chigiri’s room to make sure you’re okay.

“I hope you don’t think I’m setting you up or anything…” he tells you, “I swear he told me he wasn’t coming. He actually told me he’d rather break both of his legs than come here.”

“It’s okay, Sae, I know. I trust you.” you smile at him. Him and Chigiri work well as a team, pretty much taking over and not allowing you to lift a finger as they help you transfer your things to his room. “I still feel like I shouldn’t be here. I don’t feel great and I’m probably going to ruin the mood.”

“Not possible, Rin is the biggest buzzkill without trying.” he laughs, picking up the golden glittery dress Chigiri had noticed earlier. “We’re having a party tonight, definitely wear this.” Sae tells you, handing it to you.

You model in front of the standing mirror in the corner of the room and hold the garment up against your body. It’ll definitely turn some heads, for sure. And even if you can’t actually hook up with anyone, you’re sure you’ll get some attention either way.

“I’m going to town for another booze run, wanna come, Chigiri?” Sae asks, turning focus from you to your friend. Chigiri looks at you inquisitively, like he’s asking permission, but you only shrug.

“I should shower and start getting ready for tonight, anyway!” you tell him. “But you better be back in time to do my hair.” you poke out your tongue.

“Ugh you take forever.” he sighs, heading for the exit with Sae. “Go, go.” he mutters, walking ahead of him until he’s completely out of sight and down the stairs.

“Otoya is coming with us,” Sae tells you. “Ryusei will keep you company if you get lonely.” he smiles, leaving you alone with your thoughts and allowing you to ruminate on the fact you’re stuck in a house with your ex.

Chigiri isn’t back by the time you get out of the shower. You rush across the hall, a little deflated that you’ve downgraded to a room without an ensuite. Though you’re sure everyone is downstairs, your adrenaline is through the roof at the thought of being seen in just a towel.

You make it back to your room unseen, however, locking the door behind you when you get inside. You’ll have to hurry and get dressed in case Chigiri comes back. You’re sure he’s seen you naked countless times through your friendship when you’re too hammered to care, but the thought of him walking in on you with nothing on is too embarrassing to even think about.

YOU: are u still out?

CHIGIRI: yeah we’re heading back now tho

You put your phone away and start to lather yourself in all of your lotions and potions. You’re sure he’ll comment on how overpowering the smell of strawberries and coconut is when he returns but you can’t find it in you to care. You feel so smooth and sweet and invigorated.

There’s a short and vest pyjama set plaguing your mind that you bought brand new that you’re itching to wear. Though when you strip yourself of your towel, you realise you should have brought a dressing gown.

It makes you think about Ryusei.

You’re sure there’s a spare in his ensuite, or if not a spare, he might let you borrow his. You unlock the door to your room once you’re dressed in your barely there loungewear, shivering a little as water still drips and spills across your skin.

The corridor with each room is bare as you look up and down. Though as you walk towards where Sae said Ryusei’s room would be, you spot Rin poke his head out of his bedroom. He sees you, too, barely glancing at you for more than a moment before he goes back inside of his room.

Your stomach churns, nerves getting the better of you. But your eyes soon light up when you see Ryusei leave his own room. You want to call out to him, to run towards him, but he disappears just as quickly when he follows Rin into his room.

It makes you pause, unsure of what to do. You don’t particularly want to see Rin again, but you’d quite like to catch up with Ryusei.

You take a breath, and slowly approach. The door is ajar, though you don’t feel confident enough to reveal yourself. Instead, you rest against the wall. It’s not like you’re eavesdropping, you’re just working up the courage to talk to him.

“Crazy that she’s here.” Ryusei laughs. They’re talking about you, you realise. You slow your breathing and actively make the effort to listen in on their conversation, now. It’s icky and invasive and you hate yourself for it. But you can’t help yourself. You want to know what they’re thinking. Both of them. “How’re you feelin’ about it?”

“Well—” he stops, thinking. It goes silent for a while, and he begins moving around the room. It makes your heart race. Does he know you’re there? Is he about to close the door? You inhale a slow, silent breath, holding it in your lungs for as long as possible. “I’m seeing someone… so I don’t really care.”

“You are? You kept that quiet!”

“You never asked.” Rin responds without missing a beat. “We’re also not friends.”

Ryusei laughs at him, though he isn’t sure if he’s joking or not. They’re friends, right? They talk often enough, and Rin probably sees Ryusei more than he sees his own brother. They hang out a lot outside of practices and games, so he doesn’t doubt that they’re friends, despite what Rin says.

You feel your heart stop beating, you swear.

For the first time, maybe ever, Chigiri was wrong. Rin is seeing someone. He actually moved on. You can’t be mad; you have no right to be mad. Not when you ended things. If you cared about him so much, you wouldn’t have broken his heart. He has every right to move on, and so you do.

Though you can’t stop the way your heart aches. The way it bleeds each time it beats, it’s scarring with every thump. You feel the lashing of a whip lacerating it as it does all it can to keep you alive.

But you’ve died inside.

You can’t help the way your throat suffocates itself with a lump in a desperate bid to gain more oxygen. Your eyes are full. They’re wet and pitiful as you come to terms with the news. Maybe you thought you’d find your way back to each other one day.

After the breakup, he didn’t bother you at all. He took it terribly in the moment. But after, he seemed to shut down completely. Everything was so methodical and planned. He arranged to have his stuff moved out by movers and requested you wouldn’t be there. It was quick and seamless, and you never heard from him again after that.

It hurt.

It stung, in fact.

But in your mind, you hoped that things would change. Even up until now, you hoped you would both grow as people and maybe one day find each other again. You��d be ready to grow up and be who you each needed to be so that you could be together in the right way.

But that can’t happen, now.

You were too hopeful that he’d change for you.

You just gave him the freedom to be someone else’s.

The wood floor creaks as you try and stealthily sneak away, and it doesn’t go unnoticed by Rin or Ryusei. You hear Ryusei question if someone is there, and it makes everything worse. You quickly try and disguise your tears before you reveal yourself, pretending to be on the phone as you stand in the doorway.

“Sorry I was just talking to my dad and pacing around! Bye!” you tell them, hurrying away before either of them can call you out on it. You aren’t sure if they realised you were listening in, and truthfully, you don’t want to know. If either of them were to ask you, you think you’d have a breakdown.

You rush back to Chigiri’s room and lock the door behind you, and for a while, you manage to keep composed. Tears are flowing and you feel horrible about the situation, but you’re surprisingly calm.

“Hey, kiddo,” you hear a soft knock at the door. “Can I come in?” Ryusei asks. And that is when you begin to sob.

You go to the door and unlock it, opening it wide and allowing him to see your puffy eyes and soaking cheeks. He tuts, sorrowfully, wiping your cheeks with his thumbs as he enters the room. He closes the door behind himself again and locks it before guiding you to the bed.

The tears don’t stop, and he keeps wiping them away for you. It hurts. God, it fucking hurts. If you had some hindsight and known he’d move on this quickly, you never would have ended things. You’re realising a lot about the breakup and what a big mistake you’ve made, now. And it’s stupid and selfish and you hate yourself for it.

You know you weren’t happy at the time.

But you were a lot fucking happier than you are right now.

“You heard, then?” he asks. “What were you doin’? Eavesdropping doesn’t seem like you.”

“I— I wasn’t. Not really… I didn’t mean to.” you try to explain, still stuttering and sniffling through your words. He coos and shushes you, trying to calm you down so that you can speak and think clearly. He urges you to take deep breaths, and finally, you can explain. “I was coming to see you and then I saw you go into Rin’s room so I got nervous and hid.”

“Ah,” he nods. “Well, what did you want to see me for?”

“I just… wanted to know if you had a spare dressing gown.” you tell him half of the truth, the other half glued to your tongue and unwilling to be shared. Though his smile, his cheeky, almost intimidating smirk has you folding for him and confessing the rest. “’n I missed you, thought we could catch up.”

He pulls you into his arms and squeezes tight. He can’t even begin to tell you how much he’s missed you. Of course, you’re all busy doing your own thing, but he got to see you way more when you were dating Rin.

You have no idea how much he cherishes those moments you came with them when they travelled to away games. The pranks you played with him and the nights you spent up watching movies and learning more about each other.

He’s never crossed a line with you, ever.

But that doesn’t mean he hasn’t thought about it.

Rin is one of his closest friends. And, at the time, you were his. He’d never dream of making a move on you. He wouldn’t want to ruin his friend’s relationship and break the trust between them.

You withdraw from his hug, though. Your eyes shimmer and twinkle as they look into his wantonly. They’re so flirtatious yet stern in comparison to how wet and desperate your own look. The tension between you is rife, and you swear the only thing that can be heard is the way your heart pounds.

He doesn’t expect you to lean forward.

He doesn’t expect you to tilt your head and close your eyes as your face gets closer to his.

It takes him aback, his eyes widening in shock as he realises what you’re doing. His hands fly to your shoulders, and he pulls away from you, keeping you at arm’s length. You feel every organ plummet through your body as you realise what an idiot you are.

“Oh my God.” you sigh, moving away from him and covering your hands over your mouth in horror. How could you be so stupid? You’re stone cold sober and don’t have a single excuse to fall back on. You just threw yourself at him, and he didn’t give you any indication that he was interested.

“Hey, it’s okay! You’re just hurting, and I’m here.” he starts, getting closer to you and putting an arm around you before you shrug him off and walk away. “Things don’t need to be weird, baby, I understand.”

You scoff, looking at him briefly before your eyes fill with tears again at the sheer embarrassment. He stands up, desperate to hold you. To console you. But you don’t let him. Keeping him away as far as possible as you move away from him and push him, almost angrily.

A turn of the handle at the bedroom door makes you both freeze. The following knock at the door forces you to look at him.

“Don’t tell anyone.” you request, eyes pleading with him as you begin to panic.

He doesn’t speak, heading to the door to see who’s there. You’re relieved when it swings open, it’s Chigiri. He looks a little surprised to see you in your scanty pyjamas with Ryusei in the room. The latter of the men doesn’t say a word as he slips by him. Not uttering a sound or even looking at him as he goes back to his own room.

Chigiri comes in, quickly, locking the door again and setting down the shopping bag.

You see two glasses in his hand, quickly grabbing them and setting them down as he pulls out a bottle of rosé wine from the shopping bag. He holds it up, raising a brow, asking a silent question of whether you want to start the party early or not.

“Pour the drinks, bitch.” you tell him. He laughs, screwing off the lid as you grab your makeup bag and a few different eyeshadow palettes from your suitcase.

“Do I even want to know?” he wonders, holding your glass out to you. You take it from his hand as you walk by and sit at the dressing table with your makeup. He circles around you, grabbing his hair dryer so he can start doing your hair at the same time.

“I tried to kiss him.” you smile, sarcastically. “Tried being very important, because he was horrified. He couldn’t keep me far enough away, Hyoma.”

“Well… you are his friends ex, babe. Give him some credit.” Hyoma tries to reason. “There’s no way he wouldn’t kiss you back otherwise.”

“Oh! Speaking of my ex, he’s seeing someone.” you start laughing hysterically before fanning your hands in front of your face to try and stop yourself from crying. “Remember,” you laugh-cry again, “remember when you said he’s too focused on work to move on? Hahaha!” you continue, grabbing your wine glass and drinking every last drop.

“Oh boy.” Chigiri speaks, downing his own glass before topping them both up. Admittedly, you feel way calmer as he starts brushing your hair. His soft hands raking through your locks almost sends you to sleep. “Who told you?”

“No one, I accidentally overheard. Not that it matters.” you shrug. “We’re definitely leaving tomorrow. I can’t do this.”

“Fine.” he shrugs. “You know what you can do, though? Wear that slutty little dress you bought and give him a show. You’re literally a model, babe. What are the odds he’s found a hotter girlfriend than you? I bet she’s ugly.” Hyoma smiles.

God, he’s the best. He knows exactly the right thing to say every time you’re in distress. You wish you could offer the same support to him. But honestly, his life is pretty well put together. He rarely gets involved in drama. And even when he does, he always knows how to get himself out of it.

“Gonna get your hair looking perfect, okay? Wear that dress, grind on the guys, get wasted. And then tomorrow we can dip.” he explains, and you nod. “Who cares if he’s dating someone? You think he won’t get jealous if you dry fuck his friends?”

“No, you’re right.” you tell him before taking another drink. You aren’t sure if you’re feeling genuine confidence or if the blush pink liquid is rushing straight to your head. It doesn’t matter, though. Everything he’s saying is true. And you’re ready and raring to go. “He was so possessive when we were together.”

He nods, and you both clink your glasses together as you seem to have a solid plan prepared to set in motion.

Although, it’s half-baked as best.

Time flies as you get ready. Your makeup is settled on your face to perfection and Chigiri finishes off your hair, making sure there isn’t a strand out of place. He applauds as he admires his handiwork. He reaches for the bottle of wine, realising it’s empty as he goes to pour himself another glass.

“Fuck sake.” he mutters. He watches you as you stand up, the two of you finally notice the sound of loud music playing from downstairs as the room falls silent. You do a little dance as you strip down to nothing, not caring about your present company. “Oh we’re doing this.” he exclaims, turning away on instinct.

“Oh fuck I’m sorry, I forgot.” you laugh, and now you realise you’re definitely at the very least tipsy. He laughs too, noting how confident you are as you stand completely bare in front of him. It’s something you’re used to, honestly. Doing runway shows gives you no room to be embarrassed about your natural form. But for whatever reason, Chigiri makes you feel shy unless you’re drunk.

“I can’t believe you got a Hollywood wax you whore.” he laughs. “Trying to act like you weren’t trying to fuck but you were prepared!”

“You never know, Chigs~!” you sing a little as you walk to the wardrobe to grab the golden dress. You slip into it with ease. You aren’t allowing it to wear you, though. It’s yours and you own it. There is no doubt that you are the one wearing it, dominating it like it was created for your body and yours alone. “I can still hook up, y’know? We’re leaving tomorrow. Who cares if I stir the pot?” you shrug.

“Listen, if you call me Chigs one more time I’m gonna suffocate you with a pillow in your sleep.” he warns you, and you giggle as you slip into your high heels. He doesn’t dispute your point, though. This might be the last time you see any of these guys. Rin has moved on, and there’s no reason you can’t too. And while you’re at it, you may as well burn every bridge in the process.

“Let’s party.” you wink, opening the door.

You’re greeted to a cacophony of cheers and wolf whistles as you descend the staircase. The boys are scattered around. A few of them in the kitchen, while the others are in the lounge.

Otoya curls his finger from the kitchen, inviting you over to hang out with him and the others. You look over your shoulder towards the lounge. Ryusei and Rin are staring at you with an intense gaze. Of course there’s a chance Ryusei told him that you threw yourself at him, but you’re choosing to believe they’re admiring how hot you look instead.

“You look stunning.” Eita tells you, offering you a puff of his J as he holds it in front of your face. It’s been a while since you got high. You stopped when you started dating Rin, and you didn’t feel the need to pick it back up when you broke up. But, now, you have nothing to lose.

“Thank you.” you smile, accepting the weed and the compliment. You admire the lights as they change colour quickly, making you feel like you’re at a club. You immediately sink into a bar stool as you feel the drugs take hold of your body, weariness hitting you instantly.

Karasu lights another blunt and hands it to Chigiri, who smokes without hesitation.

“Do you want a drink?” Sae asks you both, looking between you as you get more and more comfortable in the group. Chigiri nods, walking around the counter to help him.

He knows what you like, after all.

“She looks fucking amazing.” Oliver comments, standing up from between Ryusei and Rin before he heads over to join all of the action in the kitchen. “Hi gorgeous,” he whispers in your ear as he places his hand in the small of your back. You smile, cheerfully, resting your body into his as he holds you close.

“Pace yourself.” Chigiri warns you, sliding your drink to you. You sniff it, realising he’s poured you some Malibu and coke into a cup. His warning goes ignored, however, as you drink two thirds of the drink before setting it down.

“I’m fucked.” you laugh, staggering a little as you walk beside Chigiri to get another drink. He looks concerned, but leaves you be for now. It takes all of your power not to look over to the only two men not hanging out with you right now. “Are they looking?” you whisper to Chigiri.

He looks, quickly.

“Mhmm.”

Your smile widens and you can’t help but laugh. Hyoma snatches the bottle from you as you go to pour a new drink. Oliver passes your original cup to you, and you beam as you remember you hadn’t finished it, though it’s gone in an instant.

“Real party girl, aren’tcha?” Karasu asks, putting his arm around your shoulder and forcing his blunt into your mouth. “You’ll be asleep before midnight I bet.” he challenges you.

You ignore him, turning to face him.

His eyes widen in realisation as he notices you’re keeping the smoke deep in your lungs. He closes the gap between your faces and his lips rest against yours, accepting the smoke back as you exhale it.

“Fuuuck, am I in love?” Karasu laughs as the exchange ends. He turns away, biting his lip slightly as you bend over the counter and rest your head in your hands. The skirt of your dress rides up a little, and Chigiri graciously tugs it down for you.

“Babe, stop,” he warns you, leaning over to whisper in your ear. “You’re gonna end up passing out.”

You gulp, nervously, feeling anxious under Chigiri’s intense eyes. You know he’s only looking out for you, but you can’t help feeling a little on edge. Sae comforts you, though, pulling you into his side like a protective big brother as he asks how you’re doing.

“Having fun?”

“Yes! Thanks for inviting us.” you smile.

“Glad you wore this one, suits you.” he nods. You watch him as he smokes beside you, and you decline when he offers you a puff. Chigiri, however, gratefully accepts without even being asked. Sae leaves your side in favour of sitting next to your best friend as they talk and bond over the joint.

You aren’t sure what to do, now. You feel a little deflated after Chigiri’s warning and you aren’t sure what to do with yourself. It seems like you shouldn’t drink or smoke anymore, but you’re brimming with so much energy you don’t particularly want to sit down.

“Hey, c’mere.” Eita orders, Oliver sits down next to him upon his request.

And when you approach, that is when Ryusei finally decides to come over. He smiles at everyone, but can’t seem to catch your attention as you’re too fixated on the two men with different tints of green in their hair.

Eita stands up when you hoist yourself onto the counter, and he slots himself between your open legs. Ryusei watches the scene unfold, anger bubbling at his jawline as he contemplates whether to intervene or not. His protective side roaring at him to get you away from the renowned playboys.

“Let her be.” Chigiri tells him, noticing his irritation. Ryusei sits down opposite to him, leaning over to chat quietly amongst themselves. Sae listens in, too, but only because he’s in close proximity. “I heard what happened. Did you tell Rin?”

“No, I didn’t.” Ryusei answers, though he doesn’t look happy about it. It feels like a betrayal to hide something so big from his friend, but he knows nothing good will come from sharing. “Oliver and Eita, they’re—”

“It doesn’t matter. It’s none of your business. She’s not looking for a boyfriend, she’s letting her hair down. So, whatever you’re planning, stop. Let her have fun. If you wanted her, you should have—” Chigiri stops himself when he remembers Sae is right beside him. He looks over at you, still being showered in attention by Eita and Oliver.

“Do you have feelings for my ex-sister-in-law, Ryusei?” Sae asks, laughing lightly before passing him the gross remainder of his blunt. Ryusei shrugs, smoking.

“’s complicated.” Ryusei announces, uncaring. He’s sure nothing that is discussed here tonight will be remembered come morning. “Rin! Get off your phone and come over!”

Rin flips him off and continues playing on his phone. You’re a little disappointed, but it can’t be helped. Karasu sits on the other side of Chigiri while Sae shuffles a deck of cards.

“Set up ring of fire, dude.”

“Ring of fire sucks.” you yell over your shoulder, though you giggle when Otoya’s fingers gently caress your chin and force you back to look at him. Oliver pours three shots for all of you, handing them to you and his friend. You drink them together, giggling even more when you feel the buzz rush right into your brain.

“What drinking games do you like, sweetheart?” Oliver asks, his hand resting on your thigh while his thumb softly strokes your skin.

You tell them that you like never have I ever the best, prompting Sae to call Rin over. Then, and only then, does he actually listen. Chigiri makes sure everyone has a drink, pouring something random for Rin as he takes a seat next to Ryusei and opposite to his brother.

It’s nice seeing the kitchen island so lively. In a weird way, you feel like a teenager again. Finding out someone’s parents are out of town and having a big, debaucherous house party while you play drinking games and get too fucked up to even know where you are.

Obviously you’re grown, now. And you like to think you’re a bit more responsible than you were back then. Though it’s likely it might just be Chigiri keeping you on the right path. He shoots a smile at you as Eita helps you down from the counter. Oliver moves one seat along and you sit between them, his arm is around the back of your chair while Eita’s hand remains firmly on your thigh.

“Who’s going first?” Ryusei asks.

“I’ll go, let’s start easy.” Karasu answers. “Never have I ever ate food.” you all laugh and everyone takes a drink. He nudges Chigiri to go next.

“Never have I ever had sex.” everyone laughs, drinking again. You and Rin exchange an awkward look before looking elsewhere.

“Horny, Chigiri? Onto the sex questions already?” Ryusei laughs.

“We all know people only play this for the sex questions so I’m just moving the process along.” Chigiri rolls his eyes before looking at Sae, assuming the questions are going around the table clockwise.

“Never have I ever eaten ass.” He drinks as soon as he finishes talking, and he smiles as Rin grunts, realising he stole his little brother’s question.

You watch Oliver and Eita either side of you drink as well as Ryusei. Karasu admits he hasn’t done it but it very open to trying it, earning a laugh from the group. Rin sits silently for a while as he tries to think of a question. It takes him too long, so Ryusei decides to take over.

“Never have I ever cheated.”

Oliver and Eita laugh before drinking. Chigiri hesitates, but drinks too. Everyone hoots and hollers as he flips them all off. In his defence, he got cheated on first, it was a revenge fuck! Though you don’t speak on his behalf, he doesn’t feel the need to defend himself.

“Never have I ever had a threesome.” Oliver laughs, Eita laughs too.

“Fuck you, man.” he chuckles as they both take a drink. Ryusei, Karasu and Sae all drink too.

“I feel so boring.” you giggle, “You two are gonna be drunker than me at this rate.” you tell the men either side of you.

“Maybe we can change your answer tonight.” Eita whispers into your ear. Rin and Ryusei stare daggers at the three of you, and it only makes you play into it more. Chigiri smirks when he looks over at Rin. His face is unchanging, but he can see that cold, calculated rage burning behind his eyes.

You turn to face Eita, your lips ghosting his before you face the rest of the group again. “Never have I ever been to a party at the Itoshi cabin.” you smile, everyone takes a drink, Rin drinking a heartier amount than everyone else before asking Chigiri for a refill.

“Never have I ever made a chick squirt.” Eita smirks as he drinks. Oliver joins in, and you can’t help but wonder if they shared a girl and gave them that experience. You watch on as Ryusei, and Rin drink, too. Your face flushes with embarrassment as Rin drinks and he looks at you again, averting your gaze and hoping nobody notices. “Fair play, Itoshi.” Eita nods towards Rin.

“Shut up.” he responds. “Never have I ever smoked weed.” he shrugs, reclining back in his seat while everyone else drinks. You can’t help but feel a little disappointed that he’s too focused on his phone rather than being entirely present in the moment with you all. You can’t help but wonder if it’s because he’s too preoccupied talking to his girlfriend.

“I was thinking we could do a secret Santa thing while we’re here, by the way.” Sae suggests, and Chigiri smiles at the idea. “We can all head to town together with a spending budget and find something.”

“That’s so cute!” you nod.

“We can’t do it.” Chigiri reminds you. “We’re leaving in the morning.”

“What?” Sae asks, quickly, and Rin is listening in carefully, now. His phone slotted into his back pocket as he observes your exchange. “I thought we figured everything out?”

You look at Ryusei, uncomfortably and gulp. His eyes soften as he realises you want to leave because of him, but he can’t say anything and start senseless drama. He doesn’t want you to go because of him. He doesn’t want you to go at all. However, he knows while everyone is intoxicated and tensions are high, confessing the reason will only lead to an unnecessary uproar.

“You— You should stay, kid.” is the most he can offer. “We haven’t had a chance to catch up properly, right?” he hopes you can take the hint. He can’t talk about it now, but there is definitely a discussion needed. You sigh, and nod.

“We should stay, Hyoma…” you smile at your best friend. And he looks relieved. He looks pleased that you’re spending a few more days with this crazy group and hopefully having more little parties like this. “And secret Santa sounds like a great idea, Sae.” you nod.

Sae smiles, excitedly. He pats Chigiri on the back and they laugh together happily. They start talking about the gift exchange and how to do it. Sae gets up in search of a pen while Chigiri tears up pieces of cardboard from a drink crate to write on. Sae hands him a pen, and they get to work writing down everyone’s names. Ryusei hands them an empty cup to put the names in.

“Just pass the cup around and take a name.” Chigiri tells the group as he draws the first name and passes the cup to Sae. Rin follows and then passes down to Ryusei. You, Oliver and Eita take your names and then Karasu gets the final piece of cardboard. “We good? Cool.”

“What’s the budget?” Rin asks.

“We’ll decide tomorrow,” Sae answers. “Just don’t forget or lose the name.”

“Does anyone want to dance?” you ask, swallowing the last of your drink. Oliver and Eita nod immediately, Chigiri shrugs and Karasu agrees too. The five of you head towards the lounge where the music is playing loudest.

Chigiri doesn’t dance, but he steps from foot to foot in time with the music. He keeps an eye on the grumpy gang still sitting in the kitchen while you take turns dancing on the three men giving you all of their attention.

You hadn’t expected to be so drawn to Eita, but his height and calm demeanour are pulling you in. His hand rests on your waist while you dance together, your ass pressed comfortably against his crotch.

He plays it cool, of course, whispering sweetly in your ear.

You watch Chigiri as he gets bored with the music, skipping the song to something more familiar.

“You’re a model, yeah?” Eita asks, directly into your ear canal. It makes you shudder, but you nod. “Show us.” he orders, though you’re sure it’s intended as a suggestion. They all seem entertained with the idea, though. No one more encouraging than Chigiri.

He’s your number one supporter, and you love him for it.

He looks a little taken aback as you move away from him, and your face turns expressionless yet sultry. You rise up the small steps that connect the lounge and the entryway, doing the best walk that you can towards the kitchen in your drunken state. You take your time when you get closer to Rin, Ryusei and Sae, posing for a while before turning back towards the other half of the guests.

They all clap and smile when you finish, your friendly, warm smile returning to you.

“That’s her drunk, imagine when she’s focused.” Chigiri hiccups, Karasu laughs with him. The two of them get to chatting and dancing again as they discuss the party thus far.

Oliver ruffles your hair and winks, heading back to the kitchen to get a refill.

“She’s good. She’s a little firecracker, isn’t she?” he laughs.

The siblings and Ryusei don’t say a word. As worried as Ryusei is about you, he tries to distract himself by talking to Sae and Oliver instead. Rin, however, can’t stop looking at you. You’ve stopped thinking about him, though. Your attention is entirely with Eita for now. Chigiri is taking it all in, on your behalf, making mental notes of things to tell you tomorrow.

Hopefully he won’t be too drunk to recall it come morning.

Eita squeezes your ass as you get closer to him. Rin stands up, finishing his drink and telling everyone goodnight. He heads up the stairs when he sees you and Eita almost share a kiss, your lips connect, though you break it before it can really be called a kiss.

“What’s wrong?” he asks.

You look towards the stairs, and you hate how Ryusei and Sae are looking at you. It’s like you’re so predictable and they know exactly what you’re going to do. You can’t help it, though.

“I’m sorry.” you tell Eita, running away from him and chasing Rin up the stairs.

Rin’s door is closed, but not locked. You feel slightly sober now that you’re here. Part of you regrets running away and leaving Eita behind, but you know you’d have regretted being so petty and hurting Rin in the morning. Especially now that you’re staying.

You knock on the door, and he doesn’t respond.

Really, you should walk away. He’s either sulking or trying to sleep. Maybe even both. Your better judgement is telling you that you should leave him to it. But you can’t. You’ve been trying to get a reaction out of him all night and you finally got it.

Girlfriend or not, you got what you wanted.

It has to mean something.

So you enter without permission. The room is dark, and there’s no sign of him on the bed. You see the balcony door slightly ajar, and the biting breeze confirms his whereabouts. Did he leave because he was tired? Or did he leave because he felt jealous?

Of course there’s a chance you could be overthinking, but you have to know for sure. Admittedly, discussing your feelings whilst drunk might not be the brightest idea. It doesn’t stop you, though. He knows you’re here when he hears your heels click against the wood flooring. He looks over his shoulder, he’s leaning over the balcony railing when you step out and see him.

“You’re in the wrong room.” he tells you, turning around and resting his elbows on the railing as he faces you. The dark night sky obscures most of his face, but the moonlight highlights him gorgeously. It makes your knees weak, and you can barely think of what you want to say.

“I know,” you tell him. “I just wanted to check on you.”

He scoffs, but nods. You stand beside him and look over towards the town. The cold, bitter wind makes you feel drunker. Part of you can’t believe you’re actually staying here after you were so adamant that you were leaving. The glittering lights of the snow-covered village makes you smile unintentionally.

It’s how you’d imagine Santa’s workshop, if he were real.

“Um… congratulations on the new girlfriend, by the way.” you start, instantly regretting bringing it up. You’re sure you’ll start crying if he starts fawning over her. You don’t even know her, but you hate her. You try to keep calm and remember Chigiri saying she’s probably ugly. At the very least she’s got to be less attractive than you. “I’m glad you found someone… I hope you’re very happy together.”

“We are.” he tells you, immediately. You gulp and it feels like swallowing glass. He’s always been blunt, it’s not because he’s particularly angry or bitter towards you. It’s just who he is. And still, it hurts. “Are you interested in Otoya?”

You’re frozen without a response. You aren’t sure whether to lie or be honest, though you fear he knows you too well and will know if you’re lying to him.

“He’s fun.” you shrug. His lips curls into a smirk at that. It tells him all he needs to know without you saying anything at all. You feel defeated, completely and utterly, as you look at his expression. “I don’t want to come between you and your friends, Rin.”

“I don’t care.” he shrugs, “Do what you want.”

His words are like bullets shredding through your skin. You do what you can to maintain your composure, trying to regain control of the situation and the conversation.

“I thought you might be upset when you left the party…”

“No,” he corrects you, his gorgeous teal eyes fixate on your own as he speaks. “I’m tired. I wanted to say goodnight to my girlfriend, but she must already be asleep.”

And, with that, you run out of willpower to continue talking. He sees how tears begin to prick at your eyes, and you try to walk away before they spill over again. You offer him a quick goodnight as you try to hurry back through the cabin and to yours and Chigiri’s room.

He stops you, grabbing your wrist and pulling you back out into the cold.

“You’re unbelievable.” he tells you, bending down so that your noses almost touch. His eyes bore into yours as he offers nothing but a harsh, callous stare. You want to run, but you can’t. His grip on your wrist is firm, and you’re worried the cold temperature will aid in any bruising. The strength of his hold isn’t painful, but the chill of your skin is intensifying it. “You broke up with me. Yet you have the gall to be jealous?”

“That’s not fair…” you whimper, but he’s right. You’ve been saying the same thing all day. Even before you knew he was seeing anyone, you knew you had no right to be upset considering you were the one who ended things. And yet, here you are, trying to defend yourself now that you’re suffering the consequences of your own actions. “I didn’t know you’d move on so quickly… I didn’t know I’d be seeing you again… I didn’t know it would h-hurt.” you hiccup, and you do your best to wipe away your tears with your free hand.

“You just wanted me to grieve forever, yeah?” he wonders. “You thought I’d be waiting in the wings for you, waiting for you to decide you want me back.”

“That’s not true, Rin,” you sniffle, “I care about you. I always will…”

“I don’t want you to.” he informs you. “You’re—”

“I think you still care about me too…” you interrupt him, looking down at the way he grasps harder onto your wrist as you speak. You look up at him again, his face somehow even closer to yours now. “Y-You can’t just turn feelings off that quick… I—”

“I’ve moved on. You’re moving on.” he tells you. “Fuck everyone here for all I care, princess.”

“Rinnie…” a tear silently rolls down your cheek as he calls you a name you never thought you’d hear spill from his lips in reference to you ever again. You can’t help but wonder if he calls his new girlfriend the same sweet names he once called you.

Rin is chillingly composed.

But if only you knew.

He feels a lump in his throat as he replays the way you said Rinnie to him, a nickname long forgotten since your breakup. A name he’d never allow another soul to call him for the rest of his days. It’s yours, all yours. It wouldn’t sound right coming from anyone else, he can’t imagine feeling anything but disdain hearing it from another.

You melt into his touch as he cups your face with his free hand, his thumb swiping at the spilled tear glimmering against your cheek. He looks down at you with a heavy-lidded stare, and you want him.

You miss him.

Especially like this.

His eyes so tired and heavy as he gives into his lust and claims you. Your eyes close completely as you feel his head tilt.

He does still care about you.

He’s going to kiss you. He’s going to cheat on his girlfriend for you. You weren’t far off on your suspicions, after all. He still cares. He might even still love you. You’re too drunk and delirious, though. Your eyes are closed and awaiting his kiss. His are barely open, lazily gazing at you knowing he isn’t about to give you what you so desperately crave.

“Goodnight, princess.” he whispers, the bitter scent of alcohol dusting across your face as he breathes.

You pull away, slowly, horrified that you’ve been denied of a simple kiss twice in one excruciating day. Your wrist is free, now. And he watches as you back away from him. He feels a little bad, but not much. He’s sure you’re only feeling a fraction of the pain and humiliation you put him through when you ended things.

He’s sure you can handle a little rejection.

“Goodnight, Rinnie.” you sniff, walking away calmly until you’re through his room and heading to your own.

You think about telling Chigiri. You even start walking down the stairs so you can cry on his shoulder. But you see him with the boys. His smile is so wide, and he looks really happy. You don’t want to ruin his night, too.

Eita looks up at you, though you don’t catch him looking. You’re too focused on yourself and Chigiri. You don’t notice him follow you as you ascend the stairs. He waits outside of your room as you decide you ought to go to bed.

You don’t even have the energy to take off your makeup or your dress. All you can do is shake your feet until your shoes fly off in different directions. Your body breaks out in goosebumps when you hear a soft knock at the door, and you can only hope your disappointment isn’t obvious when you realise it isn’t Rin coming to talk to you some more.

Eita holds up a joint, offering it to you.

You’re pretty much sober, now.

You’re surprised you haven’t burst into tears, too. So, you nod. You accept his offer, gratefully, hoping you’ll slip off into a blissful sleep once you finish smoking. Eita closes the door behind him, locking it so you won’t be disturbed as he sits on the bed beside you.

333 notes · View notes

usedpidemo · 8 months

Text

Parasailing (Kim Minju & Jo Yuri)

> You're lonely and feel sad because your favorite idols are gone and never upload any pictures in their Instagram. You're really missing them because Minju and Yuri are your favorite underrated ship in Izone. When you decided to drinking alone in tent bar you recognize Minju and Yuri are there having their good time. You're so shy to be at the same place with them and stealing glances. Until you realized that you're drinking with them and told them how you miss them. Because of too much drinking alcohol and being bratty Yuri, she flirt with you and shy Minju try to stop her and after that they are in your place with Yuri kissing you and Minju watching it. being shy but enjoy it. And you fuck bratty Yuri and shy Minju. After that you're kissing their forehead and tell them that your so lucky to be with them and tell them that they are so loveable - @quietfallendemon

—————

There is no other way to put it: you’ve hit rock bottom. You’re down horrendous. It’s a sorry state your family or friends can drag you out of, no matter how hard they try—and that’s if you still have any friends left. In the eyes of randoms, they see a zombie, a soulless husk of a man—one who used to be brimming with life, with nothing but anguish and despair filling his soul now. Each passerby looks on with one of two expressions: concern and pity or apathy and indifference. Some with a little disgust. They’ve got lives to live, obligations to attend to, and some divine purpose given by higher powers to fulfill. So do you, but there’s a difference: you’ve lost the will to live.

Barely functioning, everyday life has turned into a nightmarish hell. Days, then weeks, and eventually months, fly by in a loop. You slog through your office job, receive income, then you carelessly splurge on lavish drinking bursts afterward. Your liver absolutely despises your guts by now. Night after night, you drink away the ceaseless pain hurting your heart more than the alcohol you consume. It’s become too numbing at this point. The morning after, you don’t bother cleaning up the mess you unknowingly made from the day before, especially when you throw up on the floors of your apartment rather than on your toilet.

So it goes. Not a single day passes by without digging your grave a little deeper with your alcohol addiction, but Fridays were particularly special. It’s when you decide that your place shouldn’t bear the brunt of your rampant alcoholism for one day. Instead, after another monotonous shift, you head to your favorite place—your other place of solitude—a tent bar that treats you like their best friend, mainly because you’re their most loyal customer, but otherwise, you enjoy the fresh air, grilled food, and the patrons’ attempts to sing their hearts out—with hilarious results.

Of course, the drinks were also part of the experience. You usually end up passing out quicker compared to every other day.

You’re partially through your first drink when two particularly mesmerizing girls walk in holding hands. Tipsy or not, their beauty immediately captures your attention. Even dressed in all black, they’re shining, like angels descended from heaven to grace this cursed earth, sent to remind people of their higher purpose and walk in them.

Gradually, you’re staring, drooling. Your brain’s in complete shambles, unable to comprehend how divine creatures like them casually walk among mere mortals, partaking in lowly, sinful activities like drinking and hanging out at bars. They take their seats across your table; a perfect position to hold your attention in permanent captivity, without any obstruction.

A waiter approaches the two women, and he should’ve been a distraction, but instead, it becomes a showcase. The girl in the black dress, seated on the left, shoots these playful, childish stares at the waiter, basically flirting with the guy while she stating her order. Her partner is much more reserved, sharing hers in an orderly manner before they’re left to talk with themselves again. The older girl slaps her friend’s shoulder, as if correcting her, which the younger woman simply brushes off with a laugh. From just one interaction, you’re hooked. You had to have her. This night won’t end without their names etched in your head, and if you’re lucky, their number, maybe even more.

Another waiter arrives at your table, bottle in hand, asking if you want a refill, which you absentmindedly decline. You’re drinking in the sight of the two girls, even as they do casual activities while waiting. They’re exchanging conversations, hiding suppressed giggles, but it doesn’t mute the younger woman’s boisterous laughter. It should be a nuisance, but it isn’t; it’s a treat to watch her cheeky, bright personality. Even her friend, whose disposition is a complete contrast, has some charm to her reserved nature, and they bounce off each other seamlessly.

In the midst of this space between you and the girls, someone else is singing karaoke, much to the girls’ amusement. That’s their source of laughter, the very grating voice of that poor soul. Even the older girl’s starting to lighten up, despite repeatedly tapping her friend’s shoulder while she laughs along. Their waiter arrives with their drinks, and they immediately down two glasses each in rapid succession. You’re not even halfway through your first.

“Hey, you think I should try to sing and make these losers second guess about performing next time?” asks the younger girl, staring at the next patron performing on stage.

“Please don’t.” The older woman replies, face flushed bright red from embarrassment. “We shouldn’t make a scene here—”

“C’mon, no one cares. Why are you such a killjoy, Minmin?” she retorts, making a cute pout. Minmin’s dismay is your enjoyment.

“I know you want to sing so bad, Yul. Believe me, you’ll be back on stage soon, but you just have to be patient—”

“Says the loser who hasn’t gotten an acting job, actress!”

You’re amazed Minmin hasn’t tried to physically restrain her—at least, not yet. Instead, she’s dragged along by Yul to the stage so they can perform. The older woman reluctantly follows without any resistance, simply grabbing the mics without any fanfare, not even announcing who they are or what they’ll perform.

The music starts. The girls begin to sing. It’s after the first verse that the pieces begin to come together.

Somehow, this girl, Yul, with her childish attitude, flirty face, and sharp tongue, has the most soulful voice you’ve heard in a very long time. She looks effortless; she runs through each part with minimal strain and her expressions convey the emotion of the ballad very well. Minmin isn’t far off either, but her vocal does not hold a candle to Yul’s. If they were bar singers, you’d be cursing at the earth giving these two unfortunate circumstances, because such talent shouldn’t be constrained to the confines of an open bar. These two are truly angels.

When the song ends, Yul reverts to her mischievous persona, shooting winks and flying kisses at the audience as she walks off the stage, followed by her best friend, shyly bowing at every turn. After returning to their seats, the younger woman’s wearing this prideful, triumphant expression on her lips, basking in the glory, eager to gloat. Minmin’s nervously smiling, still gently bowing at everyone while cutely gesturing with her hands in a plea to make everyone stop.

Then it’s business as usual at the tent bar again. Copious drinking, out of pitch singing, and you mindlessly staring at the girls that it’s outright criminal.

Until the thought finally hits.

“Yul…Minmin…Yuri…Minju,” you silently mouth. Your eyes suddenly widen, and the realization finally dawns on you.

At first, it was a complete coincidence. They looked too similar to be truly them, that it’s a convincing impersonation or face job at best. The real evidence was in their vocals. They sounded too similar, close to a near-perfect impression. You’ve never heard such divine singing in a very long time, and now it's clear why.

Jo Yuri and Kim Minju performed for you.

The day they disappeared just so happened to be the same day your life began to fall apart. While they’re out here living their best lives and enjoying their down time, you were at your lowest, your breaking point. Some part of you understands they bear no blame; it’s fate, an inevitability of any temporary group. Yet, no matter how much you prepared for the end, you couldn’t endure the loss. The other members have successfully transitioned to their new careers, whether it be in new groups or even solo, but those two—Minju and Yuri— essentially went off the radar. They barely posted on Instagram, so you couldn’t even keep up with them on a consistent basis like their former members. Their last shared photos were eight months ago. Minimal social media messages, even fewer magazine shoots or advertisements, and no music, movie, or show to get excited about.

To see them together again not only brings nostalgia, but also revives your sense of purpose again.

Every girl in that group was special, but in your eyes, Minju and Yuri were different. Yuri had her standout vocals, Minju with her divine beauty, but you loved them beyond those traits; you loved everything about them. You promised you’d support their endeavors after disbandment, but so far, there was nothing to support. Their absence from the spotlight hurt you more than it hurt them. The worst part is the realization that you’ll likely never see them after tonight, that you can’t do anything to convince them to further their careers—to do something. After all, you wanted them both to thrive like their other members.

Of course, you can’t approach them casually. You’ll probably melt into a puddle mere steps away. So you whip out your phone and take rapid-fire photos. It’s dangerous, but fuck it, this is a once in a lifetime scene. They’re preoccupied with their drinks and conversation to notice your camera. You gather a gallery that will sustain you for months, even if they disappear from the public eye again. At first, you’re delighted, overjoyed even, but the immediate realization clouds your mood.

You sigh. You put your phone down, staring at the twosome once again, but this time, with a yearning desire. They’re within your grasp. Uncertain of the future, you slowly reach out with your hand, imagining a scenario where you pour your heart out to them—how you missed them so badly, how much their disappearance has affected you, and how you’ll wait for them till eternity, even if realistically, you’ll break long before that no matter how long it takes for them to make a song, be in a movie or show, anything. Sure, this all sounds ridiculous, alarmingly disturbing, and should be shared with a therapist instead of two celebrities, but to you, no one would understand more than Minju and Yuri can.

When you draw your hand back, Minju’s eyes are locked right at yours. She’s gently smiling and waving back. Yuri notices her gesture, recognizes you, and waves along with greater energy. The younger idol giggles at you. She catches you in a moment of weakness, cheeks puffed up and tensely flushed. The two girls exchange a brief glance, Yuri’s eyes alight with a new opportunity to cause more mischief, smirking at her, essentially screaming that no one, not even Minju, can stop her.

Yuri cocks her head to the side, shoots you a wink, a flying kiss, sticks out her tongue; she flirts with a tinge of both cuteness and sexiness that heightens her attraction—and awakens a bit of your lust. Minju facepalms, awkwardly chuckling, wanting no part in this act. You’re left frozen, in awe at how unabashedly coy she is. She was the resident brat, but now she’s taken her friskiness to a whole new level. Proving your point, she pulls the strap of her dress down, teasing, expression mocking, quietly mouthing, “I know you want it.” Just as shocked as you, her friend’s eyes widen, her hand covering her mouth before tapping Yuri’s shoulder, telling her to stop. Surprisingly, she complies obediently, pulls her thin strap back up.

Hopefully, no one else besides you saw that.

Averting their gaze for a moment, you take a moment to let the small interaction sink in. You got more than you bargained for: a serenade, a gallery’s worth of photos, and flirty fanservice from your favorite idols. Perhaps this is what you needed to finally bring yourself out of your self-inflicted funk and back to normalcy. Maybe this is what you really need all along: closure. They won’t be in your life moving forward, but your fond memories of them are always there to look back on, and you’re grateful for the joy they provided you during those difficult times.

When you look back up, Minju and Yuri have disappeared from the table across yours; they’re directly seated right in front of you. They’re carefully watching your every move, Yuri’s expression brazen as ever, constantly searching for opportunities to pick you apart, and Minju, her enabler, despite the light admonitions and warnings, shyly following her junior’s eyes. All it takes is one turn before it spirals into a car crash of disastrous proportions.

Thankfully, you’re not the one to break the ice. “Sup,” says Yuri, casually feigning innocence. Your lips move in the shape of hello, but only air comes out. They’ve seen this reaction from fans hundreds of times.

“Hello,” adds Minju, sweetly smiling, as pure as her brightly lit face. “Did you enjoy our little performance?”

It takes a minute—maybe four—before an answer forms in your head. You’ve seen them from afar, you’ve seen them up close, but never in your wildest dreams did you imagine them talking to you on an intimate level. They’re patient, softly giggling over how overwhelmed and speechless you are to respond back. Anyone else in that space would react the same way; you don’t need to move your neck around to feel the jealousy from your fellow patrons. You’re not only carrying your own burdens, but the expectations of others.

“Yeah.” The word comes out natural, without second thought, while your thoughts are focused on them and them alone. Fuck, their skin looks flawless, is your sole noteworthy observation. Even if you had the full capacity to think coherently, you’d end up with this exact same answer.

“We missed performing on stage, so we felt that it would be nice to go up and—” Minju pauses, repeatedly turning to her friend, silently observing you, trying her best to look diplomatic. “Sing a little bit. We were a little nervous, but I’m glad you liked it.”

“Well, why haven’t you done that?” you ask, the nervous smile on your features gradually shifting to a frown.

“Done what?”

Leaning forward, the stare you shoot is sharp, cold. “You haven’t been on Instagram in months. Both of you. The other members have been on TV, they’ve been releasing music, they’ve been doing photoshoots, they’re in commercials. They’re being successful, but you—” You pause, aware of your surroundings, trying your hardest not to make a scene. “Where the hell have you been?”

Both girls’ reactions split down the middle as your temper flares ever slightly. Yuri leans back into her chair, turns to her friend, surprised by the sudden shift in tone, anxious of what happens now. Minju remains calm, gently rubs her hand on hers, reassuring her.

She takes a moment to formulate a response. “It’s been harder than we thought.”

“How come?”

Another pause. Minju sighs pondering the thought. “You have no idea how much we want to perform, you know. Believe us. We really tried. I’ve auditioned for a few big name projects, got a few scripts from some web dramas. They were glorified cameos at best. You don’t know how painful it is to see the news that someone else got the role in those big projects—”

Yuri nods in agreement, equally as dejected. She adds, “They promised me I’d debut soon. They never specified exactly when. They have this boy group I’ve written songs for, they debuted and made two comebacks already with another one lined up in a few months. I’ve written and recorded so many songs that I absolutely want to perform. Waiting this long, I—”

Yuri pauses, then sighs. Her eyes are glassy.

“I don’t even know if I want to do this anymore.”

The revelation pierces through your heart like an arrow. It’s heartbreaking. Unbelievable, hearing it directly from their mouths. You simply cannot believe they’re struggling when everyone else has been able to successfully continue their careers. Even shittier agencies recognize the treasure they have and at least try to make something happen, but this is completely absurd. It sounds too painful to be true.

Only one word can perfectly describe it. “How?”

“We honestly don’t know.” Minju replies, solemn, downtrodden, defeated. “We might just give up, honestly. Our management won’t do anything to help us. Maybe our time in the spotlight is just meant to be short-lived.”

You remember the rumblings from a while back, how Minju was scouted and offered a seven-figure deal to join her other members in Le sserafim. She declined. In retrospect, she could have saved her career and two months’ worth of migraines with what eventually became a disastrous debut. Fuck, even the thought of seeing her with Sakura and Chaewon together in that alternate reality sparks your imagintion.

“You should have taken that deal, Minju. You really should have.” You put it to her straight, almost mocking, very damning, as if to say, ‘I told you so.’

She sighs through the thought, completely despondent. “Yeah. Maybe.”

The mood is cold, grim. Alcohol releases your most intrusive thoughts, no matter how harsh or intimate they sound. That isn’t to say you don’t regret them; you’ll ponder the consequences in the morning, as usual. At the very least, you find common ground with your two favorite idols, drinking it up through life’s challenges as a coping mechanism.

“I’m sorry,” you suddenly blurt. “I—I just really miss you both on screen.”

“It’s all right,” adds Minju, trying to form a smile through the pain. Seeing the vulnerability in her eyes makes the gesture even more heartbreaking. “I’m just glad you’re still waiting for us. That anyone still wants us.”

“God, you can’t imagine the jealousy I feel whenever I see the others nowadays and immediately wonder what are you doing. I mean, I don’t hate them, I just—”

“Oh, I understand that feeling very well,” Minju replies, her grin slowly widening, suppressing a chuckle. Yuri takes the bottle on your side to pour a drink on your cup, which she also steals. “We still keep contact and they’re also asking what the fuck are we even doing.”

“Look on the bright side, they don't have time to have fun these days, am I right?” Yuri interrupts, followed by boisterous laughter from her. Minju tries, but gloom gets in the way. You try to laugh, but it hurts to laugh right now, among a multitude of other feelings, particularly, pain, despair, and regret.

“Well, it’s not been fun for me ever since you’ve been gone,” you say.

You slip your phone concealed behind your hand, slide it across the table. The two women smile at what’s on screen; it’s memories from their past. It’s a treasure trove of funny, embarrassing, and endearing captures that border on obsession. If they didn’t know any better, you’d certainly be under a restraining order after seeing the bogus gallery saved on your phone.

“Damn, we looked quite cute,” says Yuri, scrolling between pictures. Their heads inch a little closer, while their free fingers trace around each other’s edges.

“Yeah.” Minju lightly nods. “I’m glad we still have each other, even now.”

The older woman slides the phone back to you. Two pairs of eyes gaze at you, both with piqued interest, but Yuri’s eyes widen, with much bigger intentions in mind.

“We really appreciate that you’re still waiting for us,” adds Minju, humble in tone and demeanor as ever. “Just give us your order tonight. It’s all on us.”

You’re briefly taken aback. Even with your sorry state, you feel as if you don’t deserve to be rewarded. Panickedly, you shake your head, “No—no—please don’t. It’s all right, I’ll pay for my own—”

“We insist; please let us take care of you tonight,” Minju interjects. Yuri glances at her, intrigued by her answer, as a new idea dawns upon her.

“Yeah, you should listen to her,” the younger girl adds, returning her gaze at you with a smirk. “Let us handle it.”

That was your first mistake.

—————

Actually, the first mistake was focusing on them to begin with, and the second was allowing them to close the space in your heart.

Yuri leads the way back to your apartment and is the first one in; that’s when you realize the mess you’ve gotten yourself in—both literally and figuratively. Empty food packs and spilled beer bottles make up most of the litter that fills every room in your once decent flat. It makes you look even worse than you already are. Mentally you’re apologizing, growing more flustered as your two uninvited guests explore your place. Minju’s been reserved the entire time that the expression she makes is nearly indistinguishable, even though her mouth gradually slacks seeing the shitshow you’ve been living in for a while.

“Your place is really cute!” Yuri knocks off some of the mess on the living room table before hopping on the desk, completely disregarding the wet puddle that now stains her black dress.

Minju’s mouth opens, but not a single word is uttered. It’s no longer her problem.

It’s yours.

“I hope you don’t mind us hanging out for a bit,” she says, and you’re not opposed to the notion in the slightest. Anything to liven up your place.

You and Minju leave Yuri by herself on the desk—for now. From across the table is the only piece in the apartment left untouched. Dusty, but unsullied. It’s a shelf filled with merch, albums, and group pictures.

“You took this?” She reaches her hand out to a particular photo, a framed picture of her and Yuri doing fanservice during one of their concerts. You quietly nod.

She smiles wider at the shot. “Would you like me to sign it?”

As you’re about to reply, Yuri swoops in between you both, tired of being ignored for at least five minutes.

“Hey! What are you doing—” she notices the framed picture, disrupting her train of thought. “Ooh! I remember this! We look cute here, Minmin!” Without any consideration, the younger girl snatches the framed photo from her friend.

“Can we keep this?”

“No.” Minju tries to take the photo back, but Minju brushes her away. “That’s his photo, you can’t just—”

“I’ll buy it for lots of money!”

“Stop! No amount of money can buy the sentimental value it has. Just give it back.”

“But money can’t buy this pussy though.” Yuri lifts the bottom of her dress, teasing her panties. Minju immediately pushes it back down.

“Yuri!”

“What?” Yuri asks, lips pouting, tone innocent, as if unaware of the stunt she just pulled off. “You know how horny these fanboys are.” Turning to you, she reaches the photo out for you to reclaim. “Your choice.”

There’s no resistance when you take the photo back and return it from the shelf. Yuri’s hands are itching to grab at her dress again, as if daring you to prove her point. Minju’s on edge, on the cusp of bailing, ready to take her friend with her before this messy situation leads to something worse. It’s a little tense, the mood a little suffocating, and none of you are able to make the best judgment calls.

“Sorry,” mutters Minju, now holding her friend’s hand. “I’m really sorry about that. We should leave—”

“No you’re not—” Yuri blurts out, before Minju places her other hand on her mouth, visibly irate by her malicious behavior.

“It’s all good,” you mumble, still fixated on the very notion that they’re in your apartment. One way or another, you want them to stay a little longer. And then you make your next mistake. “I mean, in all honesty, it’s about time I should get rid of these. Like I said before, I haven’t been able to move on, but you two are getting by just fine.”

“Right.” Minju’s gaze is sympathetic, enchanting, endearing—everything that reminds you of simpler times. The thought dawned on you at times, when you really considered burning it all—no, not even considering selling it to more sensible people—but actually burning the bridge connecting you and them. Though you say you want to move on, you understood it would haunt you for the rest of your life if you actually followed through with such an impulsive decision. “But you shouldn’t.”

Yuri pushes Minju’s hand off her. “I think you just need a little pussy. It’s not that deep.”

“Yuri!” Minju faces her with an even more annoyed glare.

“Maybe you’re right,” you blurt, capturing the girls’ attention. “I’m not free of sin, I do think you’re hot. Both of you.”

“Told you.” Yuri gloats, shaking her other hand free of Minju’s grip. She then approaches you, caresses your shoulders up to your cheek, lightly brushing the sides of your hair. “Tell me: am I the most fuckable member of the group?”

Knowing that Yuri has won, Minju stops trying to intervene. Admittedly, it was, in fact, Minju you thought was the most fuckable, and that’s no easy feat in such a stacked group, but to appease her, you nod.

“Come here,” murmurs Yuri, her fingertips rubbing around your chin as she drags you down for a sinful, deep kiss. Your fingers thread on her dress, the very same one she threatened to pull, now in your possession to grip. Her leg wraps around your hip as she pulls you closer, yearning for more of you, at the expense of your balance. It’s all falling into place, close to falling apart.

Then she says the two words that ultimately end you.

“Fuck me.”

And that’s when everything breaks.

You both end up in your bedroom, pushing Yuri onto the mattress, then hastily ridding yourself of your clothes: tie, coat, and shirt in that order. She kicks off her heels, smirking, tongue sticking out—teasing you with glimpses of her legs, panties, and pussy as you struggle to push down your pants. I know you want it, she mouths, and you’re inadvertently nodding in agreement. From the onset, you knew her dress wouldn’t come off on its own; she’s challenging you to rip it off her body, which you had every intention to do.

Your pants are still halfway down your legs when you join her in bed, completely removed after you shake the now useless heap off your feet. Yuri pulls you while you’re still approaching her for another passionate kiss. She recognizes your desire to undress her just as quickly, too. From lips to lips, she lightly brushes you down, your lips landing on her chin, neck, and collarbones. Your hand tries to grab a piece of her clothing; she parries your every attempt at her dress.

“You won’t make this easy, will you?” you say, aware of her daunting challenge but worked up regardless.

“Of course,” replies Yuri, visibly smug, getting amusement from riling people up. She rolls to the side and wraps her arms around your waist in a tight embrace. Kissing your forehead, she adds, “Show me how bad you wanna fuck me.”

It’s the right combination of seductive words, tone, and taunting demeanor that causes you to wrestle control over her. Reciprocating her kiss to your forehead, you return the favor, whisper an equally filthy reply that makes her squirm with excitement. “I’m gonna fuck this pussy so hard. Gonna fucking wreck you.”

“Try me.”

You slip both straps of her dress down her arms, enough to reveal her round, perky breasts without any cleavage. Without any further hesitation you keep going; nose, lips, neck, down to her chest—you leave a sloppy trail of bite marks, not even kisses in your wake. Yuri shuts her eyes, whines, folds like a deck with your arousing touch. Her body’s feeding your aching, hungry soul better than any meal ever could.

If it were up to you, and if it was in your capacity, the rest of her garment would be ripped in half through your teeth. Instead, they’re bunched up halfway around her waist, with the bottom half pushed up with your hand as you take hold of her panties. Digging your fingers between them, she winces, groans sympathetically, as your thumb presses on her folds, twisting her legs between yours uncomfortably. A single touch informs you that she’s wet at her core, aching, throbbing. She told you it wouldn’t be this easy; you’ll make sure it stays that way.

“Goddamn, Yuri. This wet already and I’m barely getting down with what I wanna do with you,” you mumble, your thumb lightly nudging against her folds. She’s trembling, breathing rapidly, fingers now gripped on the edge of your sheets, unable to keep still, her lips forming incoherent babbles. Add your other hand in the equation, take a handful of her chest, palm it around your grip for you to play with. It doesn’t do much that already overwhelms her senses, but her flesh is so squeezable, so malleable, so delicate to grasp, it becomes almost impossible to let go.

You dig your fingers around Yuri’s clit, her hips slowly grinding in tandem with your efforts to pleasure her. Her thighs involuntarily spread, providing more space for your fingers to be swallowed up by the tightness of her folds. With each pump and withdrawal, your digits are coated in copious amounts of slick. The sensations in her aching core pull your hand in like a magnet, allowing you to indulge in the erotic sight of Yuri quaking, screaming, tossing her head back beneath you.

“Yes, yes, yes—keep going—fuck—” Yuri makes her blissful cries loud and clear, enough for your neighbors to hear, way past any subtlety. Maintaining a steady rhythm fingering the mewling woman, you move your other hand back and forth between her shapely breasts, squeezing and kneading them, your eyes inching closer with each ripple, bounce, and jiggle. Something about the way she melts with every move you make on her slowly drives you wild, your mind racing with countless sinful desires you’ve been quietly suppressing ever since you first laid your eyes on them.

If not for how addicting it is to feel her soft flesh in your hand, it’d be hardening your cock right now. Doesn’t matter; you’ve been slowly gliding your legs, positioning yourself directly atop her, your bulge aching against her thighs, yearning for her skin. Can’t grow too comfortable, even as she squirms, yelps, writhes beneath your grasp. She adjusts, becomes acclimated to your fingers as it draws more slick, airily begging for more. Even before she considers the thought, you’re one step ahead of her, quickening your pace, generating a sloppy, satisfying sound while she leaks on your sheets.

You’re losing it, reveling in this newfound power you have over Yuri, that her orgasmic screams of pain and pleasure go overlooked. It isn’t clear whether she wants you to keep going or to stop. Your fingers never relent, even while she makes a quivering mess of your bedsheets and wetting your thigh and boxers. Eventually, you withdraw your digits from her torrentially drenched cunt. Another sticky waterfall drips on already inundated sheets. She can’t stop cumming. She doesn’t want to stop, body willing.

Yuri tosses her legs around, weak legs still violently trembling from her orgasm. The room returns to its usually quiet setting—except the gentle sound of sloppy flesh lingers. A bit quieter, more subdued, but your ears recognize a familiar sound.

Oh, right.

Somehow, you completely overlooked Minju’s presence. While you were focused on pleasuring Yuri, she had quietly leaned against the bedroom door, one of her hands following yours to that same pleasurable spot, watching with glazed eyes, enjoying the sight of her friend getting her rightful punishment. An unforgivable offense, but anyone else in your position would have done the same thing, especially when a half naked Yuri’s offering herself up on your bed.

“I was expecting you to go all the way,” she drawls, breathing heavily between words. She doesn’t care that your eyes are looking down, following her hand deep between her underwear hypnotically. “I hate to say it, but I was feeling a little jealous of her.”

Without a word, you quickly slide down her already unzipped jeans, her panties to follow. Holding her active hand, you draw it away from her core, your eyes intertwined in a passionate gaze. Time slows to a crawl. Your lips inches apart from sparking another fire. The whole time you’ve known her, she’s been quiet, reserved, nervous to make a move—that she’d ask you seven times before finally going for whatever move she wants to make.

She pulls you for a deep kiss, her other hand tugging down your wet boxers. Pressing your weight against hers, she strokes your hard cock, rubs it against her aching core, moans seductively in your ear. You’re biting down on her neck, collarbones, anything that marks her, tells the world you fucked her. Your hands latch onto her hourglass shaped waist, lightly pushing her on the bedroom door, lightly taking her off the ground without any grace, her skin another addiction to ruin your life.

Kissing down her clothed chest, you make quick work of her off-shoulder shirt before you dive back into her perfect body. Minju whimpers and whines,her nails digging into your back as you peck your way toward her core. She feels so right in your grasp; her ridiculous proportions, her slender legs, her unreal navel that warrants a prolonged kiss—everything about Kim Minju’s body was meant to be worshiped. She brings you to your knees, down to your lowest. It was easy to ruin Yuri, but this is something far beyond your level.

How do you deserve something like this?

Looking between her spread legs, you contemplate the thought. Minju’s achingly wet, just like her younger friend. She regains a little composure and realizes you’re on your knees, frozen in place. The graceful and patient woman she is, she gently caresses your cheek, forcing you to meet her gentle gaze. “Take me. Even just for tonight, I’m yours.”

Her lips draw yours like a magnet. Minju breaks eye contact at the first touch, moaning as your tongue familiarizes itself with her deliciously soft folds. Her head repeatedly thumps against the door with a thud, Digging your hands on her thighs, you’ve got Minju exactly where you want her to be: wrapped around your head in a suffocating lock. It doesn’t matter that your words come out as corrupted babble; your tongue is doing all the talking, and it loves her pussy.

“That’s it, that feels so good.” She rubs her hands on your hair, gradually shifting into a grip of the back of your skull as you acclimate to her velvety walls. “Doesn’t fucking me feel better than Yuri does?”

You’ll make your final comparison when you’re done with them both. For now, you’re focused on devouring Minju’s cunt, or dying by thigh asphyxiation—whichever comes first. Her approving moans encourage you, as if you needed any further motivation, and even if you lacked the desire, which is a completely absurd thought, her legs are there to make sure you drink up till she has nothing left.

Her juices taste so sweet, so divine, that even if your tongue dries up, you'd still be relentlessly eating her out. Soon enough, your tongue digs through every sensitive nerve and spot, setting every nerve in Minju’s body on fire. Little by little, you’re chipping away at her dainty facade. Her volume and pitch rises and rises; her grip on your hair and face tightens further. She’s exactly like her friend: a screaming mess that loves getting fucked.

There’s no tempo, no constant pace in the manner you take Minju—only a need to devour. Her patience knows only one thing too: the reward of an inevitable climax. She’s slowly grinding her hips against your face, pulling you further into her wrecked folds. It’s too fast and too sudden; you’re amazed at how she’s this alarmingly drenched—

“Fuck!”

Minju cries out, pulling you harshly by the hair, turning your face into a canvas of sticky nectar. From your vantage point, her eyes are slammed shut, mouth agape, stuck in suspended animation while her body violently trembles, even shaking your foundations. She’s completely lost in the high of her release, basking in the powerful sensations washing over her. As the lewd scene plays out, your tongue eagerly gathers up her juices. It overflows, drips down your chest and spills all over the floor even when you carry her to bed, flippantly tossing her beside her freshly fucked friend.

You take a breather to taste them both at once. Euphoric.

—————

The sight in front of you is enough to make you cum. Your two favorite members splayed on your bed, at their barest, in a state of coming undone because of your handiwork. And you still haven’t put your dick inside either of them. Deciding which one to slide your cock in first is a life or death decision. You’ll make your choice after you flip them on their backs.

You’re stroking your cock as you join the two girls on the bed, your other hand caressing Minju and Yuri’s skin back and forth, grabbing a pair of handfuls of ass. Time is a nonfactor; you’ve got all night to do every fantasy you’ve imagined with them, yet they’re still reeling from their initial orgasms, taking longer to recover.

“Fuck, you’re so perfect,” you whisper against Minju’s back, adding emphasis with each word, send a shiver all over her spine. Yuri feels every word too. “I dream about this exact scenario often. You, completely naked on your back, as I fuck you and cum all over this hot pussy from behind—” you follow, before you’re overcome by the urge to kiss her shoulder. It’s better than whatever dreams you’ve conjured up, because it’s real. You rub your cock against Minju’s folds, and it’s an immaculate sensation that not even your imagination can conjure up.

The tension hardly stretches for more than a few precious moments. Even without words, you understood they were impatient, and so were you. Deep in your gut, there’s a fear that if you wasted a little more time, this once in a lifetime opportunity will disappear in a blink of an eye.

“Fuck.” Minju’s pussy feels so incredibly tight, you never want to pull out from the uncertainties of tomorrow. It’s all the more intense when you draw yourself out, then thrust back in, watch as your cock enters and exits her cunt at a steady tempo. The bed gently rocks in harmony with your motion, moving like the ticks of a clock. The longer you fuck her, the longer the fantasy remains.

You grab her by the shoulder, by the waist, by her hair. Any part you haven’t marked red, you see red. Minju remains motionless, body lightly rippling, reduced to a groaning heap with each stroke. In this prone position, she’s nothing but a toy for your pleasures. You’re dominating her. You can tell she hasn’t taken dick this hard in a long time by her rising tone. You have plenty of filthy things to say, but you’ll let your hips do all the talking for you.

She feels so fucking good, so fucking hot.

It only seems appropriate that you almost lose yourself in Minju’s heat when suddenly, Yuri cries out for you. “Please.”

You don’t relent. Instead, by instinct, your pace quickens. Snaking your hand on her shoulder, you inch closer to Minju’s head, gently nibbling her ear. “God, Minju, you’re such a delightful fucktoy. So much easier to handle than your friend.”

Yuri’s hand reaches out to yours, and it snaps you from your lust-fueled haze. Her eyes sparkle under the dim light, cutely whimpering, “Fuck me please.”

Can’t hide the smirk on your face after she pleads. You face her, relentlessly pounding into Minju’s pussy, to prove a point. Assert control. You know she has no power over you. You’re threatening to undo yourself before she even gets a hint of mercy.

“I’m yours too,” says Yuri, looking penitent, even though in reality, this was her plan. “You said you were my favorite too, right? Please.”

Something about cutie Yuri tugs at your heartstrings. Cruel as you are, you’ve still got a soft spot. Maybe you fold this easily for cute girls like her. Maybe you’re not as assertive as you’ve projected yourself.

Your shadow hovers atop her. You have a hand gripped on her throat, your wet, hard cock lining against her slick folds. “Brat.”

There’s a subtle smile when you say the word. Her title. Her claim to fame. No matter how submissive she may act, deep down she’s a true brat and prides herself as one. A point made deeper when you impale her pussy with your cock. She screams—a sharp contrast to the subdued Minju. A way to make her point.

“Deeper! Harder! Fuck me hard!” Her voice comes out strained due to your palm firmly pressed on her neck. You lift her slightly upward, snake your suffocating hand down to her breast. Soft, pillowy flesh you squeeze, claim as yours. You’re crooning against her neck while adjusting to her equally hot tightness. Her pleasured-wracked face sticks a rebellious tongue out, darting in your direction as her hand frisks your torso. “You know deep down I’m a better fuck than her—fuck!”

She yelps, falls down to earth without grace. Her hands press on the sheets as you fuck her—ravage her pretty little cunt. No tempo, no slow burn, only raw, unadulterated pounding. Your palm tightly presses her tit, twists her face into even more lewd, unbearable pleasure. The words she has are lost, turned into deafening screams that echo throughout the room. “So! Fucking! Deep!”

It’s sinful, it’s hot, it’s perfect. You have her exactly where you want, propped on all fours as you mindlessly fuck her into submission, hands roaming her chest, her waist, her ass, lips kissing her shoulders and neck. She’s reduced to nothing but a high pitched mess; God, you’re sure everyone knows you’ve got Jo Yuri in bed now. Oh well. You’ve got a story to tell over coffee break on Monday.

It’s only when you force yourself to stop—and this is no easy feat—that she quiets down. Your cock is upset; you’ve edged yourself inside their hot pussy twice now, you can’t keep yourself in limbo forever, among other possible implications. The thought of protection never really bubbled up until this point, but you’re so far gone, far past the point of no return.

You’ll play with fate a little more before leaving yourself in its unpredictable hands.

The tango goes back and forth; Minju then Yuri, in that order, a few minutes at a time, which stretches into hours. You’ve twisted them in positions you fantasized and beyond your imagination, fucking both former idols till your cock can no longer bear with you. So when you have to make that fateful decision, it’s merely an illusion. Even as they make their deepest pleas for you to claim what’s rightfully yours, you reject the notion and take your own path.

It only seems right that the share of warm load is spread over their toned stomachs. In the aftermath of your long overdue orgasm, you fall back and wonder if it was the right decision. Initially, their faces are shaken with disbelief, utterly shocked that for once, the fan never came inside either of them, before all three of you eventually succumbed to their soreness and exhaustion.

—————

By some miracle, you’re standing on your two feet, holding onto Minju’s shoulders as she turns on the shower. Running water gushes over all three of you as it flows down your bodies without moving with the intended purpose of cleaning yourselves up. The older woman tilts her head at an angle where your lips find solace in her collarbones, gently pecking her skin—not the rough, sloppy lovemaking you’d been doing for the past hour, but intimate, sentimental love. She eventually turns around to rub her hand across your entangled arm, sharing in your warmth. Yuri hugs you from behind, her arms wrapped around your waist, nuzzling her head against your back like her favorite pillow. It’s your innermost desires at its most raw, fully realized.

You feel content. You feel grateful.

The same three words repeat in your mouth over and over, spaced between the occasional kiss to both idols, deeply imprinting how much they mean to you. “I love you. I love you.”

You barely scrub each other for over ten minutes before you leave the shower. The two girls crash back into your bed after a rushed effort to dry up, completely overlooking their wet hair. You quietly follow, putting yourself in the center as your two biases instinctively wrap an arm around you, the now quiet mood in the room a far cry from the loud mess it was when you first entered. The last image saved in your head is Yuri’s gentle smile, her finger reaching out to brush away a little strand of hair before you all eventually pass out from exhaustion.

You’ve never been in a better position to die happier.

—————

The morning after is the first after a long time that you don’t feel like complete shit.

The room reeks of sex—a smell that will permeate for a long, long time. Thankfully, it’s the weekend and you’re in no rush to put on your typical office wear. Minju and Yuri are long gone, and so is any trace of their presence in your apartment, except the lingering scent of last night’s activities. Just like that, life goes on.

Mostly.

The day after, you’ve tidied up most of your apartment. By Monday, to the surprise of your employer, you start working past the usual 9-to-5. He makes a little comment about your sudden change of heart walking past your cubicle. “You’re usually the first one out.”

The snarky remark goes overlooked, mostly because you’re preoccupied with thoughts of Minju and Yuri, as usual. You drown yourself in monotonous officework with the purpose of collapsing once you go home. It works. You’d rather be anywhere but home or holding a bottle.

A week passes. Rumblings of your character development spread like wildfire around the workplace, but you pay no heed to it. Friday arrives, and it pains you to hear that you’re not allowed to work overtime hours because of their employee friendly policy. Your mates invite you for a night at some club downtown, but you decline. Some part of you clings to the little hope that they might be there tonight.

The place is mostly empty, save for a few early patrons. You’ve got all night and the weekend, but you didn’t have to wait very long.

As soon as you put your menu down, ready for dinner, the two women have taken seats right in front of you. No words necessary, only warm, easy smiles.

You smile back. “Is this going to be our thing now?”

Now armed with dangerously alluring blonde hair, Yuri briefly kisses you, followed by an inviting smirk shared with Minju that tells you everything you need to know. “We hope your weekend schedule is empty. We have so much in store for you.”

—————

(A/N: I really love fan x idol stories, so this particular one hits all the right notes for me. Apologies once again for taking too long, this was supposed to be done when Taxi dropped (great comeback, go stream!). It's amazing to see Yuri potentially hitting it big globally with her Squid Game 2 casting news, here's hoping Minjobless can find big roles in movies and dramas as well! She deserves it. Thank you for reading!)

(PS: College started up again and I'm drowning in intensive research and assignments, oof. Currently, the only day I have free time is Sunday, since I have school stuff six of the seven days of the week. Expect more lengthy gaps of this magnitude between fics. Additionally, the Pokémon DLC is coming out real soon, which definitely will occupy my spare time more. However, this will change sometime around mid-to-late September, so here's hoping I can get a few more fics out for you. Appreciate you as always <3)

#smut #kpop smut #jo yuri #kim minju #minju #yuri

980 notes · View notes

its-time-to-write · 11 months

Note

Ok first of all I love Jamie and I love how you write him.

What about a secret girlfriend or wife that no one knows about who is really smart and they’re discovered but it’s the POV of others. And they’re all shocked that such a smart person is with Jamie.

Like Roy or some team members.

I have a hard time doing other’s POV’s. I’m sorry. This is the best I could do. Thank you so much for requesting!

island made of faith

You’re a familiar face around Nelson Road long before anyone realizes why.

You suppose people just think you’re friends with somebody else, like how Ted thought you were friends with Sam, Sam thought you were friends with Dani, Dani thought you were friends with Higgins.

Everyone finds out in their own, memorable ways, and by the end of it you just wish you had taken Rebecca up on her offer to post a public service announcement.

You’re there because you’re dating Jamie, obviously.

How it took everyone so long to figure it out, you don’t know. You think it’s because you’re always talking to everyone that no one notices Jamie’s arm is slung around you in a more-than-friends type of way. I mean, to be fair, Sam slings his arm around you. So does Dani. Richard is constantly flirting with you and so is Bumbercatch, but that’s just how they are, so no one pays attention when Jamie does the same thing and you blush just a little bit deeper than the others.

Maybe they’re just dumb.

Anyway, here are a few of the more unique ways people find out:

Ted finds out because you and Jamie are making out in the parking lot late at night, after everyone else has gone home. He immediately recognizes Jamie’s bright orange shirt and ICON hat, but is unfamiliar with whatever girl he has pressed against his car. Ted isn’t one to shy away from embarrassing one of his kids, so he shouts, “Good night, Jamie!” from across the lot. You both jump and break apart, leaving Ted to see Jamie’s surprised face covered in lipstick smudges and your embarrassed one, illuminated under a light.

Ted is surprised as well. He didn’t know you were dating Jamie, and he says as much. He says he’s happy for you both, but he still has that same look of surprise. The next day, he assumes you two are trying to be secretive about it, because he doesn’t say anything in front of anyone, and you and Jamie don’t bring it up.

Dani finds out right after Sam, and it’s because he’s showed up at Jamie’s house on a Saturday morning with a large bottle of tequila and taco supplies. Jamie had forgotten about their breakfast taco plans, so you’re not expecting Dani when you open the door in one of Jamie’s t-shirts, hair messy from sleep.

Dani looks at you, you look at him, and you yell, “Jamie,” without breaking eye contact. Jamie thunders down the stairs, says, “oh shit,” and that’s how you, Jamie, and Dani come to be taking tequila shots at 10:30 in the morning while putting the most outrageous things in between Dani’s homemade tortillas and having the audacity to call them tacos.

You’re not too far into your second taco when Dani points between you and Jamie and says, “It doesn’t make sense, amigo.”

Jamie looks at him. “What do you mean, mate?”

“You and her,” Dani replies, “She has such intelligence, and you’re you.”

A Look flashes across Jamie’s face and Dani hurriedly says, “I mean no offense, Jamie.”

Jamie grins and says, “None taken, muchacho,” and leans over to kiss you.

Dani ends up passed out on your couch by 1pm.

Higgins finds out two days after Van Damme because Jamie needed a ticket for you. “That’s sweet to look out for her,” Higgins says, “She’s kind of like the team’s sister, isn’t she?”

Jamie lets out a snort. “She sure isn’t my sister.”

Higgins looks up from his computer, surprised.

“She’s my girlfriend,” Jamie clarifies. “That’s why she’s around all the time.”

“Oh!” Higgins replies, “That’s, well, that’s a little bit, well, shocking if I do say so myself.”

Jamie nods once then shakes his head, confused. “Sorry, how d’you mean?”

“Well,” Higgins seems flustered, “she just- I suppose, she’s just incredibly intelligent, and well-educated, and usually girls like that don’t go for star footballers.”

Jamie just looks at him. Higgins shrugs. “You know it’s true, Jamie. Look at her friends and see what types of men they go for.”

Jamie’s just at the point of feeling like absolute shit when Higgins says, “She’s lucky to have you.”

Now Jamie’s really confused, but Higgins continues, “I’ve noticed she smiles a lot more since she started coming around. She isn’t as quiet as she used to be. Rebecca was just saying the other day that she seems more- comfortable. She’s special, you know. Not many women go beyond exteriors to get to a man’s heart the way she does. She knew you had a heart of gold the moment she saw you. Take good care of her, because she’s a keeper.”

Jamie says, “Oh. I will,” because what else does he have to say to that? He’s out the door so he almost misses when Higgins says, “I know you will, Jamie.”

Jamie tells you about it later that night, and, because it’s dark, he doesn’t see you frown.

Other people find out in similarly “interesting” ways. Richard asks you out and then when you say you’re dating Jamie, asks, point-blank, “Why? You are so smart and so beautiful and he is so, comment dit-on,” here he searches for the right word and settles on, “he is so not.”

You wrinkle your nose at him and say, “I’m pretty sure he’s smarter than you,” and then go to find Ted to ask him if he has any food allergies, which is why you’re even in the smelly weight room in the first place.

Roy hears about it from Keeley, and he walks up to you after training while you’re waiting for Jamie to finish showering.

“Why the fuck are you dating Tartt?” he asks, no preamble. By this point, you’re getting pretty annoyed with what people think of Jamie. You make a mental note to murder the next person who reacts like this.

You glare up at Roy. “What’s it to you?”

Roy shrugs. “He’s just a prick. And you’re not. You’re actually fucking smart. You use more words in a sentence than he has in his whole brain.”

“Don’t fucking talk about Jamie like that,” you say, anger radiating off your whole body. You’re shorter than Roy, but you swear you can be scarier. “Say something like that to me again and I will personally wax your eyebrows off.”

Roy takes a step back, hands up in defense. “Oi, look, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hit a fucking nerve. I say shit like that to him all the fucking time. I didn’t mean to set you off.”

He’s sincere, which causes you to deflate a little. You peer behind Roy to see if Jamie’s on his way out yet. He’s not.

“Look,” you say, “everyone has been giving us shit when they find out about me and Jamie. They say something really mean about me being smart and him being dumb, and I’m over it. He’s way smarter than any of you give him credit for, and you all just don’t pay attention because of his accent or his himbo energy or whatever, but I pay attention, and he actually has a fantastic grasp on the difference between academic and conversational language, a distinction many intelligent people cannot make. I just want everyone to back the fuck off.”

Roy says, “Shit,” and then Jamie’s bounding out the doors and you do your best to dispel the previous tension.

Roy looks at you both thoughtfully as Jamie gives you a quick peck and then opens your door. Maybe he and the team are too fucking hard on Jamie, although he’ll never fucking admit it.

—

You’re slicing carrots a little too violently when Jamie brings it to your attention by saying, “You trying to murder them, love? Pretty sure they’re already dead.”

You look up from your pile of carrot shreds, pulled from your thoughts. Jamie smiles, the dopey one he does to make you laugh. You barely crack a smile, which wipes the grin off his face. Now he’s concerned.

“What’s wrong, babe? This about the fuckin’ carrots?”

You shake your head. “No. This is not about the fucking carrots.”

“What’s wrong, then?” he asks. “You’re obviously thinking the carrots are something else, so what is it? D’you need me to kick someone’s fucking nuts in? Is it Roy?”

You ask, “Why would it be Roy?” in a tone that states it wasn’t not Roy.

Jamie shrugs. “I dunno, maybe the fact that your face looked like a thundercloud two seconds before I kissed ya, or the fact that his fuckin’ eyebrows were scrunchier than usual.”

That makes you smile for real. “How did you even notice that?”

Jamie smiles back, relieved that you’re no longer hell-bent on chopping the carrots and pretending they’re someone else. “I’m a genius at body-science,” he jokes. “I’m as smart as you, I just hide it better.”

That statement brings back your cloudy face and suddenly you’re ranting about Dani and Higgins, Richard and Roy, and anyone else who made similar comments including (but not limited to) Beard, Bumbercatch, Jan Maas, and a goddamn pub regular who you think is named Baz.

You’ve finished your knife-waving and put it down safely on the cutting board when Jamie pulls you into his arms and kisses you. It catches you off guard, so you pull back for a moment.

“Want to go upstairs?” he asks.

Incredulity is written across your face. “I say all of that, and you want to go have sex? Please explain your logic.”

Jamie grins. “Babe, they’re gonna think what they’re gonna think. Can’t change it. Been using it to my advantage actually. So, I don’t care. But-” he continues, “I think it’s fucking sexy that you care. Hence, me fucking asking you to go have sex.”

You have to admit, that is a good logical jump. And he used the word hence. Correctly.

You concede and let him pull you away from the carrots.

—

You’re at Nelson Road again, this time in the locker room. Sex with Jamie be damned (not really) but you still fucking care. It doesn’t help that someone from work commented on your relationship in the same way the Richmond team has, a comment you shut down with something along the lines of inappropriate workplace conversation and I’m technically your boss.

Basically, you’ve had enough. You storm into the locker room and climb on the middle bench.

“Oi!” you shout above the din. The team quiets down almost immediately. “If I hear one more word about Jamie being out of my league, or his intelligence, especially when all of yours is highly questionable, I’m going straight to Ted and I’m telling him what really happened that night at last month’s away game.” You hold up a hand. “And don’t say he won’t believe me, because I know for an absolute fact he will take my word over all of yours any day, especially in this because it makes more sense than that bullshit story you fed him and Beard. Under stand?”

The team nods and mumbles, “Yes ma’am.”

“I cannot hear you,” you return snappishly.

You’re almost deafened by the “Yes ma’am!” they deliver in unison.

“Good,” you say. “Now, since I’ve all got you here, who’s coming for family dinner this Friday?”

Hands go up around the room and Jamie just stands back in awe. How the hell he landed someone like you, he has no idea. But he’s not worried about it. He doesn’t need to know. He’ll let everyone else worry about that.

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt #ted lasso

1K notes · View notes

moonstruckme · 7 months

Text

On Thin Ice

part 1 | part 2 | part 3

This was requested by anon, but I'm not including the request because I'm going to write at least one more part and I don't want to spoil anything. But thanks so much for requesting, anon my love! I'm really having fun with it :) Also, just a disclaimer that I know next to nothing about figure skating, so while I tried to look most things up, there may be some inaccuracies

summary: when your usual figure skating partner Regulus is injured, you're forced to prepare the most romantic routine you've ever done with Sirius Black. You've known Sirius since you were little and have always found him irritating, but as you spend more and more time together, your feelings towards him start to change

cw: mention of injury (no details), Sirius Black is a relentless flirt

Figure Skater!Sirius Black x fem!reader ♡ 3.3k words

You want to be kinder to your friend, but you’re a bit angry with him. You’re not great at hiding it, either.

“It’s not like I can fucking help it.” Regulus rolls his eyes, and you do your best to undo the petulant pout of your lips.

“I know,” you sigh. “I know that. I’m sorry, it’s just, seriously? Why can’t Coach give me someone else?”

“You know why.”

You blow out another huffy breath, because you do know, but that doesn’t make you like it any better. Sirius is our best bet, your coach had told you, firm and impassive to your protests. He’s great on the ice, he always scores well, and Reg can teach him the routine while they’re at home. If we used anyone else, we’d lose time while they learned it. You’d sulked, and he’d given you a stern look. So suck it up.

And you’re trying. Kind of. You wouldn’t ordinarily consider yourself an ill-tempered person, but Sirius Black brings out the worst in you. Always has. He’s Regulus’ irritating older brother, always around to pull your pigtails when you were little and make fun of everything you and Reg enjoyed as you got older. And in everything you love about your best friend, Sirius is the opposite. Where Regulus is restrained, Sirius is brash; where Regulus is content with a few close friends, Sirius needs an entire posse around him at all times; where Regulus has a quick, quiet wit, Sirius seems to feel a joke isn’t worth telling if everyone can’t hear it. He’s loud and facetious and insufferable, and now he’s your partner in the most intimate routine you’ve ever done.

“I know,” you groan again, falling back onto Regulus’ bed. “I just wish I could change it. Who do I have to bribe to get you a miracle recovery?”

Regulus scoffs, but he lies down beside you sympathetically. “The doctor said it should be better by next season, but a fractured ankle doesn’t fix itself in a couple weeks.” His voice turns bitter. “Trust me, I asked.”

You wince guiltily. You’re not the only one suffering from Regulus’ incapacity. You’d both been practicing this routine for weeks. It was one of the most challenging and showy either of you have ever done. You were both supposed to have the chance to really shine, showing off your skills with complicated jumps and throws, some of which you’d never attempted before. But now Reg wouldn’t get the change.

Ironically, it had been a fairly simple routine that had taken him down. One of your go-tos. You’d been performing it together for years, but maybe that sense of security was dangerous too. It’s too easy to land wrong, and one tiny slip had fractured Regulus’ ankle right in the middle of competition, forcing your coach to come help you get him off the ice.

You’d cried more than he had as the on-site medics had inspected it, completely unhelpful but unable to bear seeing your best friend’s features twisted in agony. It turned out that was nothing compared to the look on his face when they’d told him he wouldn’t be able to skate on it for months.

“How does it feel?” you ask, more gently now, and Regulus’ scowl softens in response. “Does it still hurt all of the time?”

“Not really, only when I walk on it. And they said I should be able to do that without much pain soon, just no jumping or anything.”

Your heart aches with sympathy, and you have to resist the urge to reach over and touch his hand, his hair. Regulus has never much liked being touched, which you understand, but it makes him a difficult person to comfort. You resort to your method with the highest success rate: distraction.

“Well, at least the cast is a fun accessory,” you say, forcing levity into your voice. “We could draw on it, it’ll be like having tattoos.”

“Pass,” Reg replies disinterestedly. “Tattoos are more my brother’s aesthetic than mine.”

“Ugh.” You roll your eyes, unable to stopper your irritation at the return of the conversation to Sirius. “Do you think Coach will let me have a new partner if I kneecap him?”

“If you’re going to kneecap someone,” comes a cool voice from the open doorway, “it’s probably best not to ponder your scheme so loudly in their house.”

You raise your head to find Sirius leaning against the door frame, arms crossed insouciantly in front of his chest. He looks at you with the eyes he shares with his brother, but where Regulus’ tend towards cool grayness, Sirius’ always seem to waver between gray and blue, like the sky during a storm. They’re flashing now, amusement mingled with cunning, as you meet them with a glare.

“Maybe I’m just giving you a red herring,” you say smoothly, “so you’ll never see my actual plan coming.”

“I wouldn’t put it past you, shortcake,” Sirius replies, grinning when your face goes hot at the nickname, “but I think I’ll start wearing protective gear just in case. Reg, think you could revoke this one’s key until after the competition?”

Regulus pretends to contemplate this, staring up at the ceiling. “No, she’ll only start coming in through my window again.” You grin at him, and the corner of his mouth twitches in response, remembering all the cuts and bruises you used to have when you were younger from climbing the old tree outside his window, late at night when you were both supposed to be asleep. The first few times you’d tried, rotting branches had broken and fallen from beneath you, but you’d kept at it until you’d plotted a safe course. You’re sure Reg would have snuck downstairs to let you in the front door if you’d ask him, but better you get in trouble than him. “Anyway, it’ll be entertaining to watch.”

“Whatever happened to brotherly loyalty?” Sirius feigns hurt, but gets past it quickly. “Well, I suppose you’ll just have to keep in mind that if I can’t perform, there won’t be a performance. I’ve already learnt half the routine, and I think you might struggle to find someone else skilled enough to catch up in time.” He winks at you, and you scoff, pointedly unaffected. “So I’ll see you at practice on Monday, sunshine,” he gloats, and disappears down the hallway.

You wait until you hear the click of his door to lay back down, passing a hand over your face exhaustedly. “I can’t believe I’m going to have to deal with that all of the time,” you moan.

Regulus chuckles wryly. “Welcome to my world.”

☆ ☆ ☆

“Y/N,” Coach calls frustratedly. “You have to let him throw you, not jump.”

You’ve almost just followed in Regulus’ footsteps for the upteenth time today, which isn’t exactly in line with your plan of getting Sirius injured, but you figure will do in a pinch. The truth is, your focus has been off all day. Switching to a new partner is always hard; you’re used to Regulus, you’ve spent years learning how to skate together, to anticipate the other’s movements, and finding that rhythm with another person takes work. But learning how to skate with Sirius is more challenging than even you had expected. He’s distracting, for one thing. He keeps smiling at you, making faces when you mess up, and whispering obnoxious little pointers when you’re in the middle of a complicated move. And his own movements are bigger and more elaborate than you’re used to, lacking Regulus’ control. You can see, objectively, how it works for him. It gives his performance that extra bit of artistry that Regulus has often been accused of needing, but it makes him more difficult to anticipate. He’s stronger than Reg, too, so he throws you higher, flings you farther, grips you tighter. It’s a lot to learn, but your coach doesn’t seem very sympathetic to your plight. As far as he’s concerned, you’ve wasted almost an entire day of practice and are undoing weeks of hard work learning the choreography with your repeated mistakes.

You nod at him again, moving to reset, but Sirius slides in front of you.

“Hey,” he says, “I can feel you tensing when I go to throw you. Is something wrong?”

You cross your arms in front of your chest, breath still puffing into the air between you from the exertion of your leap. “No,” you reply shortly. “I’ll fix it.”

And really, you should have been able to fix it a dozen tries ago. You’ve practiced throws with Regulus for years now. You’re supposed to push down on Sirius’ shoulders, use the momentum of your spin to give you a little boost, and let him do the rest. But you can’t seem to manage the last part. Sirius’ hands on your waist had discomposed you from the first try, and you keep finding yourself trying to jump off the ground before he has a chance to lift you. It doesn’t work, you know it’s never going to work, but it’s like some fight-or-flight instinct takes over every time Sirius’ hands get close to you. You suspect it’s because you’re so used to Regulus’ touch aversion; this routine is meant to seem romantic, but between the two of you, it had always felt chaste, more about the mechanics of the movements than the meanings behind them. Sirius loves to be touched, though, probably too much. He teases you about how cold your hand is in his, the tentative way you touch his shoulder when you’re supposed to grip it, how you jolt a little when he rests his hand on the small of your back. You’re on edge every second he’s around you, which by the very nature of the routine, is often.

And so you keep jumping, which causes Sirius’s throw to be stunted when he can’t get a good grip on you, which causes you to fumble your landing. Every. Time.

“You can trust me, you know,” Sirius persists, looking half earnest for once in his life. “I’m not going to launch you too high or anything. Just let me do the work.”

“I’ve got it,” you growl, and Sirius raises his hands in mocking surrender, moving out of your way. You glide back into position, taking a deep breath to steady yourself. You don’t need his advice, you’ve been doing just fine without it for years. You’ll get it on your own.

☆ ☆ ☆

“Why is it,” Regulus drawls, coming into your room, “that when you mess up at practice, it’s still my problem to solve?” He sits on the edge of your bed, careful not to disturb the open bottle of nail polish you’re using. “I’m not even your partner right now, but both Coach and Sirius are complaining to me that you can’t sync up with him.”

You keep your eyes on your fingertips, sweeping the brush across your nails in careful, measured strokes. “I’m working on it.”

“What’s the problem?” He sounds more puzzled than frustrated. “Sirius is annoying, but he’s not actually an asshole. He won’t sabotage you.”

“I’m not accusing him of anything,” you say. “I just…I can’t get it right. I don’t know. He’s so different to you, and I can’t figure out how to make it work.”

“Well, you’d better figure it out soon,” Regulus replies, not without sympathy. “There’s only a couple of weeks until comp, and it seems like the both of you will need all the practice you can get together.”

You know he’s right, and that’s exactly what you’re dreading.

☆ ☆ ☆

The next practice goes about the same, the only difference being your coach’s mounting exasperation. Actually, no, there is one other change: Sirius’ movements become smoother, more sure, as he grows increasingly familiar with the choreography.

So basically, he’s getting better while you’re getting worse.

Though you all know there’s no time to waste with the competition coming up, Coach ends practice early in his irritation, letting you go with strict instructions to get your shit together before you meet again tomorrow. You promise him you’ll try, though you’re both coming to know that won’t be enough.

You take your time unlacing your skates, shrugging on your jacket and stopping to buy a hot chocolate from the vendor up front before going out into the brisk autumn air. You’d started this new routine after your first practice with Sirius, stalling so that he’d have a head start and you wouldn’t have to walk home in the same direction, but you take two steps outside before you realize your plan has been foiled.

“Coach will kill you if he catches you with one of those,” you say, and the cherry of Sirius’ cigarette burns orange as he takes a drag, eyes lighting with playful defiance.

He blows the smoke away from you. “You won’t tattle on me though, will you, sunshine?”

“Reg won’t like it either.”

“He knows,” Sirius says, as though Regulus’ opinion is of little concern to him. “You took your time in there. Ready to go?”

You don’t try to keep the suspicion from your face. “You were waiting on me?”

“I figure we could use some extra practice.” He drops his cigarette, stamping it out half smoked. “If you’re not too tired, I mean.” You give him an indignant look, and Sirius grins. “C’mon, it’s too cold out here for those leggings.”

You follow him reluctantly, sipping at your hot chocolate because damn it, he’s right. The wind had been cool when you’d gone into practice, but nightfall has stolen the little bit of warmth the sun provided. You wouldn’t be surprised if you woke tomorrow to find the trees prematurely bare of their leaves.

The Blacks’ house isn’t far, and your eager pace gets you there in a hurry. You’re thinking you’ll go to Regulus’ room as soon as you get inside, ditching Sirius and whatever humiliation he has planned for you, but when you approach the house, every window is dark.

“They’re at my aunt’s for dinner,” Sirius answers your unasked question, unlocking the door. “I begged off because of practice.” He laughs as you follow him inside. “Try not to look so happy about it, shortcake.”

You roll your eyes, starting up the stairs that go to the bedrooms. “When will Reg be home?”

“Late.” Sirius’ voice is close behind you. “You’re welcome to wait for him, of course, but we may as well make use of the time.” On the top step, you whirl, relishing the opportunity to look down on him for once.

“Fine. What are we doing here?”

You don’t know if you’d hoped he’d be intimidated, but Sirius appears as unbothered as always. “Like I said. Practice.” He brushes past you, leading the way into his bedroom. After a moment, you follow grudgingly.

Like everything about Sirius, his room is loud. Almost every inch of wall space is covered in band posters, medals from competitions, pictures of his friends. There are clothes strewn across the bed and shoes scattered about the floor, but if Sirius is even conscious of the mess, he doesn’t mention it.

“What did you have in mind?” you ask.

Sirius turns, and when his eyes meet yours, they’re surprisingly determined. “We need to figure out whatever it is that’s been holding you up,” he says. “We’ve gotta get past it.”

You feel like stomping your foot, but very maturely refrain. You’re about done with the subject of your failures for the day. “I don’t know what it is.”

“I think you do,” Sirius says cooly. “Wanna know how I know?”

“How?”

He grins. “Because you just admitted it.”

“You—I just asked how,” you splutter angrily.

Sirius gives you a knowing look. “Right, so it has nothing to do with you being afraid of me touching you?”

Your face heats. How could he know that? You look at him for a moment, and he looks back at you with that cool, even gaze, like he thinks he’s got you all figured out. As much as you resent him for it, he’s right. You’ve got no shot at a decent score in this competition if you can’t get past your mental block around Sirius. “I’m not afraid.” You roll your eyes, downplaying the admission. “I’m just not used to it, okay? I don’t know if you’ve ever noticed, but you’re not exactly a carbon copy of my usual partner.”

Sirius grins again, and for the first time you get the sense that he’s laughing with you instead of at you. “I have been made aware of that a few times over our lives, yes. But okay, you’re not used to it. Let’s get you used to it.”

You cross your arms over your chest, not sure where he’s going with this but fairly sure you won’t like it. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, I’m going to throw you until you can handle it without flinching. Sound good?”

You look at him like he’s stupid. “The rink is closed, and there’s nowhere for me to land here.”

“Sure there is.” Sirius pats his bed cheerfully. You stay right where you are. Something changes in his expression, and you think you might detect a bit of kindness behind his teasing tone. “C’mon, sweetheart. I don’t know what Reggie’s told you, but I don’t actually bite.”

You huff, but go to stand in front of him. He’s shed his coat, revealing the plain black shirt underneath, and the sleeves grip his biceps. Even in the poor lamplight, you can see his eyes changing colors like schools of fish as they swim. Now blue, now gray.

“Alright.” Sirius sets his hands on your waist, and you tense automatically. “See, that’s the habit we have to break. Relax for me, shortcake.”

His words certainly don’t help, but you do your best, unclenching the muscles in your stomach and legs.

“Perfect,” he says, then launches you into the air. You barely have time to gasp before you’re landing on his bed, springs squealing in protest. “Okay, next time, try to spin or something.”

“I wasn’t ready,” you protest.

Sirius laughs. “I know. Sorry, couldn’t resist. Let’s try to do it like practice this time, yeah? So you go over there,” he motions to the door, “and run towards me. When I throw you, try to spin if you can, but don’t try to stick the landing or anything. Just land on your butt.”

You roll your eyes, moving to the door. “Yeah, I’m in no hurry to break my ankle like Reg, thanks.”

He winks. “Just making sure.” He spreads his feet a bit, bracing himself. “Alright, let’s give it a try.”

It’s easy to remember Sirius is an older brother when he gets all bossy like this, but you comply, gaining as much speed as you can on the way to him before he’s gripping you around the waist, tossing you into the air. You manage a half-turn before your back end hits the bed.

“Better!” Sirius exclaims, beaming at you. “You still seemed a bit tense, but at least you didn’t try to jump by yourself. Again?”

You can’t help a little smile of your own as you nod, pushing up off the bed and repositioning yourself at the door.

☆ ☆ ☆

When Regulus gets home, he finds you sprawled on Sirius’ bed with his brother sitting beside you, both thoroughly worn out.

“Did you fix it?” he asks.

You grin at the ceiling, wondering if it’s your pride or Sirius’ you’re feeling in the air, or both. “I think so.”

“Coach might get the chance to be mad at me instead, tomorrow,” Sirius laments. “My arms are fucking dead. Too many throws and I might drop you on the ice.”

“Don’t break my partner,” Regulus says warningly.

“Yeah,” you second, hauling yourself into a sitting position and going to meet Regulus at the door, “please don’t.”

You can hear Sirius’ eyes rolling as he says, “I won’t. See you at practice tomorrow, shortcake?”

It’s harder than usual to muster up annoyance for the teasing nickname. “See you tomorrow.”

415 notes · View notes