#but also i’m like how the fuck am i going to get a second reader without having the fields ready or at least an idea
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KINKTOBER (reuploaded)
Pegging (Matt)
Request: none but yall begged for me to bring it back lmao
Warnings: pegging obviously, sub!matt, best friends, bi reader, fingering(male), dual pleasure strap on, use of vibrator, slight edging, use of matty, mommy kink, whiny!matt, 0.2 seconds of matt sucking the strap, i think that’s all, lmk if i missed anything!
A/N: sorry this is a few days late, i’ve been super busy. tomorrow will be posted on time
Y/n’s pov
I was in the kitchen working on my MacBook when my best friend Matt came in and sat across from me. “Hey Matt.” I greeted him without looking up from my computer screen. “Um hi Y/n/n. Can I uh ask you like a really weird and personal question?” he asked. I was a bit confused but nonetheless nodded in agreement, “Sure I guess…” I said while clicking save and closed my laptop to give him my full attention. “I uh- I can’t ask you here, can we go to my room?” he stated nervously, only adding to my confusion.
We got into his room and Matt closed the door behind him, “So you know how you’re bi?” “Oh really, I am? I had no idea!” I replied sarcastically. “Not funny, but like you’re bi, obviously. I um, uh I-I know you have a strap-on…” he stuttered and trailed off. “If your question is why do I have it, I’m going to hit you for being dumb.” I joked, making Matt squirm uncomfortably, “Have you ever, you know, used it on a guy before?” he inquired nervously. “No… Why do you want to know about my sex life you weirdo?” I was suddenly getting a bit flustered because how the hell does Matt know I have a strap-on in the first place and why is he asking me about what I do with it?
“I- uh- I really like y-you and I have um- a fantasy involving you a-and I really want you to do it. Please don’t get mad.” he stated in a rushed tone, stuttering over a few words. I was beyond confused and a bit shocked, “That’s not how I expected this conversation to go. Um, okay, wow- what’s um… what’s this fantasy?” I asked curiously. Matt started to nervously pick at his nails and chew on his lip, avoiding eye contact with me as his cheeks turned pink. “Would you please dom me?” he asked, “And peg me…” he added, saying it so quietly that I almost didn’t hear him.
“What!? Matt are you sure? It’s probably gonna hurt, I’ve-I’ve never done that before. I’ve only ever used it to fuck a girls pussy.” I replied flustered and just as nervous as Matt. He finally looked at me with pleading eyes, “Please? I have lube and I’ve fingered myself before. I’ll be a good boy and listen, I promise!” he begged me. Looking at his face, I reluctantly agreed “I uh- okay, we can try it. I’m just scared I’m going to hurt you.” I told him softly. “You won’t hurt me, it’ll just be uncomfortable at first. I really want this, I’ve thought about it since we were 17. Can we do it tonight? Chris and Nick are going over to a friend’s house.” Matt said quickly, clearly excited that I agreed.
“Sure I guess, but I’m gonna want foreplay beforehand. And I’m probably gonna want to kiss you, like a lot.” I laughed as Matt’s cheeks turned a deep shade of pink again. He started looking down again nervously “Can I kiss you right now?” he asked softly, instead of answering I just tilted his head up and captured his lips in a short but sweet kiss. “Mhm, thank you.” he blurted out after, as I got up and made my way to the door. I sent him a wink before going to my own room where I pulled out my strap-on, which happened to be one for dual pleasure, meaning there was a vibrating dildo that went into me as well.
Even though it had already been cleaned after the last time I used it, I decided to clean it again anyway. I also decided I needed to ask Matt another question so I texted him to come to my room. I laid out a few sets of lingerie, that basically cover nothing, on my bed, but I wanted Matt to pick one anyway. “Um what did you need my help with?” he asked as he stepped into my room, closing the door. “I want you to pick which one you want me to wear tonight.” I said while pulling him over to my bed to look at what I had picked out. I stopped when I noticed Matt kept trying to cover his crotch with his hands, instantly knowing he was hard. “Are you hard right now Matty?” I teased, causing him to blush deeply.
“Only a little bit. I didn’t touch myself, I promise! I-I do have a vibrator in m-my ass though but it’s not on. I just wanted to edge myself so I could cum more later, ‘m sorry I didn’t a-ask.” he stuttered out, extremely flustered. “Do you have the remote?” I questioned as he was eyeing this one black set, which was mostly just straps. “Yes, and I want this one it’s really sexy.” he blurted out before blushing heavily. The one he picked out was a black leather bra and panties set with a grater belt, the bra was basically just an outline of one as it had nothing covering my tits. It did hold my them up nicely though, just like the panties, which were crotchless, and the garter made my ass look good.
“Can I have control of the vibrator until tonight? You think you can handle that without cumming?” I inquired, wanting to know how far I could take things with him. Matt dug into his pocket before pulling out the remote and handed it to me with an embarrassed smile. “I think I can as long as it’s not on 24/7.” he told me as he grabbed my hand and started nervously playing with the few rings I had on my fingers. “Can I ask you a serious question?” I asked Matt, resulting in him nodding. “I’m not judging you, I just want to know, but you don’t have to answer if you feel uncomfortable. Why do you want to be pegged so badly and like having things up your ass? I don’t care if you are, but are you like gay or bi?” I questioned, causing him to drop my hand.
Matt’s face turned a bright red and he had to clear his throat a couple of times before speaking. “N-No, I’m not gay or bi, I don’t find men attractive. I was just young and experimenting one day and figured out how to stimulate my prostate. I wanna get pegged because I’ve seen it on pornhub and it looks really hot.” he said softly. “Plus you’re someone I trust and if I’m being honest, you’re really attractive and you domming me would be the hottest fucking thing in the world to me.” he added, blushing heavily. “Noted. Thanks Matty, that’s all I needed.” I smiled at him before Nick conveniently called for him. This was the perfect time to start teasing him with the vibrator.
After putting the other two lingerie sets away, I walked out to the kitchen, pretending to go back to working on my laptop. I watched as Matt sat down next to Nick on the couch, pulling the small remote out of my pocket I pressed the + button, turning it on to 1, making Matt’s breath hitch a little. He looked up at me with pleading eyes to stop as he was talking to Nick but I turned it up again to 3, making him squirm a bit. “Matt, are you okay? You look uncomfortable and you’re not paying attention.” Nick asked, genuinely concerned.
Matt’s pov
I regret giving Y/n the remote to the vibrator now because I didn’t think she’d turn it on when I was talking to my fucking brother. I was fine when it was on level 1 but when she turned it up to 3 my brain went a bit foggy, I zoned out a little bit until Nick put his hand on my shoulder. “Matt, are you okay? You look uncomfortable and you’re not paying attention.” he asked, I quickly came up with an excuse. “Yeah I’m fine, my head just hurts a bit.” I lied, looking at Y/n and silently asking her to turn it off, which luckily for me, she did. After talking to Nick, I walked over to her, “Please don’t turn it on when I’m talking to my brother!” I pleaded, but that just made her turn it up to 5 while smirking.
“But doesn’t it feel good Matty?” she asked, I let out a whimper and nodded before walking back to the living room. This went on for the next two hours or so until Nick and Chris left, my boxers were soaked with precum and my dick was so hard. I was laying on my bed and I swear I almost came in my pants when Y/n walked in. She was wearing the lingerie set I picked out along with the strap-on, which was black and matched the set perfectly. The strap-on was definitely smaller than my dick, maybe 5 or 6 inches max, but that was good because I don’t think I could take one that’s upwards of 7 inches.
I started squirming as Y/n stood above me, looking down at me and telling me to get undressed. She already had me take the vibrator out like 15 minutes ago, not that it really mattered. “You’re already being such a good boy for me Matty.” she praised, making me whine a bit as her eyes raked over my body. “I’m ready for you to dom me.” I confessed, causing her to stop staring at my body and smile at me. “Where’s your lube at?” she asked me but I just got it for her instead, “Thank you handsome, can you lay on the bed for me?” she asked sweetly, knowing I was a bit nervous to get pegged and have sex with her in general.
Y/n’s pov
I know Matt said he wanted me to dom him, but I could visibly tell he was anxious and nervous so I was trying to be as gentle as I could with him. “Matty, if it’s too much or it hurts too bad let me know and we’ll stop and cuddle okay?” I said while moving some hair out of his eyes. “I promise I’ll say something.” he replied, “What do you wanna start with first babe?” I asked him, wanting to do things his way. “I want to makeout with you.” he giggled, I hovered over Matt and we started kissing slowly at first, then we started full-on making out. I was sucking on Matt’s tongue and he was letting out the prettiest whiny moans as I ran my hands up and down his sides.
Experimentally, I started ghosting my hands across his nipples, loving the whimper it pulled from him. I pulled back for just a second, “Does that feel good baby?” I questioned while rubbing my thumbs over his nipples before rolling them between my thumb and index finger. “Yeah but please more!” he whined, not making too much sense, “Please what baby? What do you want me to do?” I asked as I kissed all over his chest. “Want you to just peg me already. I’m ready mommy.” Matt squirmed. His eyes opened widely when he realized what he just said, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mea-“ he started before I cut him off with a kiss.
“Don’t be impatient baby, mommy will fuck you when she’s ready.” I said sternly as I moved towards his aching cock. I discreetly turned my vibrator onto 2, not high enough to make me cum but just enough to get me more wet. His cock was already covered and dripping with precum, “This really gets you worked up, doesn’t it?” I teased as I grabbed the lube. I squeezed some onto my fingers and circled his puckered hole before slowly slipping one in. “Two fingers please, I can take it.” he whined, I added a second finger and Matt was right, he could indeed take it.
I started scissoring his hole opened before adding some more lube and a third finger causing Matt to whimper. “Too much?” I asked, not wanting to hurt him, “N-No just so full.” he panted out in response. I fingered Matt for a few more minutes until he grabbed my wrist and stopped me. “I-I think I’m ready mommy.” he said, looking up at me with those innocent blue eyes. “Are you sure?” I asked as I pulled my fingers out, wiping the rest of the lube off on my thigh. “Really sure, can- can I get it wet with my mouth and control your vibrator, please?” Matt asked nervously.
I handed him the remote and stood up, Matt quickly turned my toy up to 5 which caused me to squirm before he got on his knees. “You look good on your knees baby.” I complimented, making him blush heavily. “How do I um you know, suck dick?” Matt asked, his last two words barely above a whisper. “Well I’m not going to feel anything so you can just do whatever.” I explained, Matt nodded and started to suck on it lightly for a minute as I looked down at him.
He whined and stopped sucking, “I can’t wait, just use lube because I need it now!” he complained, desperately trying not to touch himself. “Okay, get back on the bed for me then.” I said while stroking the side of his face. Once Matt got back on the bed, I put some lube around his hole and onto the strap. “It might hurt baby, so tell me if you need to stop.” “Okay Y/n, please I need you so bad!” he whined. I placed the tip at Matt’s entrance and slowly pushed it in about half way.
Matt let out a choked sob as his hands tightly clenched the sheets and his face held a look of discomfort. “It’s okay Matty, you’re okay.” I soothed him, “P-Put the rest in.” he whimpered. I pushed in the rest of the way before stilling my movements again, not wanting to go too fast. Matt being the sneaky little shit he is, decided to turn my vibrator up to 7, I let out a loud moan as he did so. “Please move.” he groaned quietly, I started pumping at a slow pace as he started to groan a bit.
Even though I was feeling so much pleasure from the vibrator and I wanted nothing more than to start pounding into Matt, I stopped myself because I didn’t want to hurt him. “F-Faster mommy!” he loudly whined, I sped up my movements just a little bit, loving Matt’s whimpers and moans, “Feel good baby?” I panted out. “More! Need more!” he cried out, grabbing onto my shoulders, “Want me to go faster or harder?” I asked, wanting to clarify what he wanted.
“Both, please! Feels so goo—“ he cut himself off with an extremely loud moan as I started fucking into him rougher. “RIGHT THERE! FUCK MOMMY, D-DO THAT AGAIN!” he begged, bending his knees and putting his feet flat on the bed to arch his back more. Even with all the pleasure Matt was experiencing, he was still thinking about me, he turned up my vibrator to 10 which caused me to also join in on his loud moaning.
“Right here Matty? Is that where it feels good?” I asked breathlessly, “Yes! Yes! Please touch my cock, please! Please!” he needily moaned. I started rubbing his cock in rhythm with my thrust as we were both getting closer to the edge. “A-Are you close mommy?” “Very close baby, I just want you to cum first.” I told Matt, speeding up all my movements. “Choke me! Choke me tightly so I can please cum!” he whimpered.
I used my left hand to choke him and a couple seconds later, Matt was painting both our stomachs white with copious amounts of cum, cause me to cum as well and pulled out a him. “M-Matt, vibrator!” I cried for him to turn it off as I was getting overstimulated, “Sorry, sorry.” he apologized out of breath and turned it off my vibrator as I collapsed next to him on my back as we caught our breath.
I took off the strap and I was honestly just going to put it on the floor because I was too tired to clean it right now but Matt took it from me. He licked all my cum off the vibrating side before he put it on the floor and scooped his cum off of me. Matt stuck his fingers in his mouth to taste himself and moaned when I moved to lick the rest of his cum off his body. “You were such a good boy Matty, you did so well.” I praised him as I kissed his neck, sucking a minimal amount of hickies into the skin.
“Thank you Y/n/n, felt so good.” Matt blushed as I stood up to go take another shower “C’mon let’s go get cleaned up real quick.” I said while helping Matt up. I grabbed my clothes and strap-on as well as a pair of socks, boxers and a tshirt for Matt before we went to my room to take a quick shower. When we got out and got dressed we looked at the time to see Nick and Chris would be home soon. As to not be sus, we sat in the living to watch a movie and Matt was now extra clingy.
I’m not complaining, I think it’s cute, I enjoyed it. Matt had his head on my shoulder and I had an arm wrapped around his shoulders. I was playing with his hair when Nick and Chris walked back in and thankfully neither of them said anything. They probably just chalked it up to Matt feeling anxious about something and I comforted him. Both boys simply just plopped down on the couch to watch the movie with us until we all called it a night, Matt ended up sleeping in my room.
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#okay this is mostly just to dump my stress of my grad program#so i’m signing up for comps and i’m freaking out lowkey because i just sent out an email to get my committee together and i feel so behind#the advisor mentioned she could be my chair which is great but she wanted me to contact her earlier and i didn’t so now i’m lowkey afraid#i sent a message out today telling her if we could discuss subfields and she said you could only discuss it if you have a committee#but also i’m like how the fuck am i going to get a second reader without having the fields ready or at least an idea#so now i’m planning on sending an email to the second reader she recommended and hopefully he agrees since i’m not asking him to chair it#like i know i fucked up and i waited too long but it’s just been so stressful and i feel so overwhelmed#i feel like i might’ve pissed off the advisor a little bit which i obviously didn’t mean to but damn life is kicking my ass right now badly#she seems genuinely nice so maybe i just read the email wrong but the email looked so cold like i just wanted an advising appt 😭
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✩ ‧₊˚ ✩ how long does it take to fuck your brother's best friend? (four whole days)
synopsis. suguru comes home to visit from college at the same time you do—except he brings satoru along. this is going to be a long break
word count. 8.5k (i am tired of this tomfoolery)
contents. college! au, brother's best friend! satoru, fem! reader, minors do not interact, three-year age gap (you're both early twenties), slightly mean satoru (when you’re kids), slight enemies to lovers, jealous! satoru, mentions of reader having an ex-bf, male masturbation, satoru is taller + carries reader, cunnilingus, fingering, handjobs, unprotected sex, brief mentions of alcohol (satoru), creampie, pet names (baby + sweetheart), not proofread i could not be bothered i’m sorry
notes. this was not supposed to be this long bye i am embarrassingly down bad for the blue-eyed freak
everyone knows that where there is satoru, there is suguru—and likewise, where there is suguru, there is satoru.
they’re a bit of a packaged deal, really. satoru befriends your brother in what you think must be some twisted stroke of luck—there is no way suguru would lower his standards for some rich bastard who’s had life made for him since the day he was born. but apparently, he does, and you’re stuck with a white-haired nuisance in your house at least once a week. for years.
you’ve known satoru since he was a whiny, snot-faced, and spoiled little brat. back then, he used to call you toothless—you were six, it’s normal for children at the age of six to lose a few teeth. just because satoru is nine and has grown his teeth back doesn’t mean he escaped the toothless phase himself—but satoru is just a jerk like that, pushes your buttons, and calls out your insecurities to get a good laugh.
you don’t smile with your mouth open even once around him that summer, not until suguru assures you that regardless of how many teeth you have, you have a lovely smile.
when you’re twelve, puberty does its thing, and now you’re stuck with acne-prone skin—also a normal occurrence for people your age, but satoru makes sure to point out the giant pimple on your forehead every time he sees you. you make sure to let him know his haircut is as awful as his sense of style, and suguru tries his best not to choke himself with his charger as you both bicker.
satoru is gone that entire summer for a family cruise that you’re sure costs double your house—he comes back frighteningly taller than you remember him within the span of just a few weeks.
it’s been like that since you were kids. he comes over, finds a new thing to pick on through his smug grins and smooth chuckles, and you fume as you bite back with just as snarky rebuttals. he makes sure to never cross the line of going too far—it’s more for suguru’s sake, you’re fairly sure—but stays right on the dot of getting just under your skin.
he’s annoying. a jerk. a rich snob. a privileged dickhead. he’s rude and disrespectful, with no tact, let alone any semblance of respect. you don’t understand what could possibly make suguru want to hang around such a douchebag, but suguru cares about satoru—and satoru has always been there for your brother.
you don’t understand it, but you respect it. as long as he doesn’t wet your entire bathroom sink and mirror in the mornings after he stays over, you suppose you can coexist.
but you haven’t seen him in ages—not outside of suguru’s instagram stories and posts. it’s been a long few years since the two of them have left for college, and by the time you leave too, life has its funny way of working, and, well…you don’t bump into him anymore. it doesn’t occur to you that satoru is not the same guy you used to know until you come back home to visit after your second year of college.
“suguru,” you call, “i borrowed your hoodie. but you can have it back—”
you cut yourself off when you open the door to your brother’s room, and lo and behold, stands a very shirtless gojo satoru, the white-haired and blue-eyed asshole you’ve had to deal with since childhood. except he’s way taller than you remember him—just how much does this guy grow, exactly? his shoulders are broader and….and since when did he have abs? there’s a small tattoo just under his collarbone—when did he even get that? his hair is also longer, just enough to fall over his forehead and curtain those striking blue eyes of his.
he looks…well, handsome. very handsome, in fact. dangerously handsome that it catches you by surprise as you blink.
he’s still shirtless, holding his t-shirt in his hands as he grins.
“hey, toothless,” he greets, voice deeper than the last time you heard it—but it still sounds relatively the same. you think you’d always recognize satoru’s voice, whether you’d like to or not. and, of course, he just has to still use that ridiculous nickname after all these years. “long time no see.”
“i have all my teeth now—i have for a long time, y’know. and put a shirt on, you freak,” you huff, rolling your eyes, “where’s suguru?”
“what, you don’t enjoy the view?” he motions at his bare torso, like the shameless bastard he is, “most girls love this view—”
“and yet, you’re still single,” you cut him off, staring at him pointedly.
he grins impossibly wider, tugging his shirt over his body swiftly—you have to exercise all ounces of control not to gulp as you watch his biceps flex.
“keepin’ track of my love life?” he wiggles his brows, “i know older men can be appealing but have a little class. your poor brother would lose his shit if you went after his best friend—”
“satoru,” you sigh, pinching your nose, “do you age backward or something? how are you still this obnoxious after so long?”
“i practice in the mirror,” he winks, “it’s my charm.”
“that’s hardly charming,” you roll your eyes, “anyway, whenever suguru comes back, let him know i left his hoodie, yeah?”
“sure,” he chuckles.
and then you close the door as you leave—right before you stop, pause, and open it up again as you’re sticking your head back in when you make a shocking realization.
“wait, how long are you here for?” you ask, eyes wide.
he has the audacity to look smug as he taps his chin and pretends to think—“oh, y’know. just the rest of break. my old man took my mom on some trip, so i’m killing time here,” he shrugs.
great. lovely. wonderful. just what you needed.
you wish he’d drop dead—maybe suguru will finally be forced to go outside of his one-man circle and actually befriend some respectable people.
“you can’t just stay at your place?” you hiss, “it’s certainly big enough.”
“well, why be lonely in an empty home when we can have fun here?” he hums, “consider yourself lucky—you get to be housemates with me for a—”
“keep to yourself,” you warn, cutting him off again through narrowed eyes and a dangerous glare—satoru only looks more amused, raising his hands up in surrender.
with that, you turn again and almost shut the door when he calls for you—“hey, toothless,” he says lowly, making you pause before turning to him with a raised brow. he smiles—it’s so unlike that usual smirk of his…somehow this one is a bit gentler as he murmurs, “you look good. grew up well, y’know.”
you blink. you’re not ready for that…didn’t expect a compliment from gojo satoru himself—especially not after all this time of throwing mediocre insults your way.
you decide he must be messing with you, so you purse your lips as you click your teeth in irritation. “yeah, sure,” you say dryly.
you can hear his chuckles as you close the door again—this is going to be a long break.
—————
just as expected, the house is simply not big enough for you and satoru.
the first time you run into him happens to be first thing after waking up—you’re walking up to the door just as he twists the knob and opens it, walking out shirtless. again.
this time, however, he’s got beads of water rolling down his skin from his shower, right between his pecs, as a towel hangs around his shoulders. you can see his tattoo from up close now, a small infinity sign right under his collarbone that contrasts against his pale skin.
how tacky, you think—just as you’d expect, even his choice of tattoos is questionable.
his hair is wet—it’s sticking to his forehead instead of the multiple directions it usually scatters around in that messy way it always does. you’ve only felt satoru’s hair once—when you were fifteen, and you’d hit him in the back of the head as you walked past him at the breakfast table. he’d made a jab at your dark circles. tests were around the corner, and unlike satoru, your grades actually mattered. you didn’t expect his hair to be so soft, but it is, and you almost itch to twirl the strands around your fingers for a quick feel.
instead, you scowl and stomp off to your room as soon as your dishes are washed.
his hair is probably just as soft now—maybe even softer now that he actually probably cares to look after it. you’ve heard suguru grumble about using two-in-one shampoo too many times when he comes back from spending the night at satoru’s. for a second, your fingers twitch to reach up and brush through a few strands on his forehead—just to feel them because they look soft. nothing else.
the urge is quickly killed as soon as he opens his mouth, however.
“oh, hey there, roomie,” he grins, “you’re really doing all you can to catch me half naked, huh?”
“don’t flatter yourself,” you grumble.
“i’m just sayin’,” he chuckles, “that’s twice now. if you ask nicely, i might walk around like this just for you.”
it’s way too early for this.
by early, it’s actually late noon. now that finals aren’t killing your free time, you stay up until ungodly hours to catch up with your social life—and it doesn’t help that you can hear satoru and suguru stay up playing video games the next room over, either. suguru is probably still sleeping.
that’s a bit of a shocker, in fact—usually, it’s satoru that has to be dragged out of your brother’s room to have breakfast (or brunch, really) before the kitchen is cleared up. why satoru is up first is beyond you.
maybe it’s just a cruel way for the universe to enjoy watching more of your veins pop.
“does that apply to asking you to leave? because then i suppose i can ask rather politely.”
he grins, eyes sparkling with amusement as he shoots you that smile with those pearly whites that irritate you to no end. you’re not sure why, but something about his smile looks so much different nowadays—something about it just seems so….mature.
that’s a word you didn’t think you’d ever use to describe satoru.
“mm, not quite,” he hums, “you’re still stuck with me.”
“whatever,” you mutter, rolling your eyes. “move, i want to shower before suguru wakes up.”
“you have time,” he steps to the side, letting you enter the bathroom, “he’s probably not waking up anytime soon—woah.”
satoru’s shirt is on the floor—why, you may ask? because he’s an annoying idiot who doesn’t have to clean up after himself when people have always been around to do it for him. he never has to care to aim and toss his clothes into the hamper because the maids will pick up after him anyway. old habits die hard, you suppose—you’ve listened to suguru complain about satoru’s messiness not improving even after being his roommate for the last few years. it’s never been your problem, but you don’t appreciate it now that you’re slipping over the fabric on the tiled floor, falling backwards with a squeal.
but satoru’s quick—he catches you with those strong arms of his and wraps them tightly around you, keeping you securely in place as he steadies you against his chest.
his bare chest, in fact.
you can feel the slight dampness seeping into your shirt, and you can feel his hot breath on your neck as he exhales in relief once he makes sure you’re safe. you almost shiver—almost, but you manage to scrape together enough self-control to stay painfully still in his grasp.
“you okay?” he murmurs gently, voice a low whisper against your skin. there’s no bite to his words. no amusement or teasing or even smugness. it’s genuine, the way he checks on you.
this is…new. very, very new.
“yeah,” you breathe, letting out a sharp breath. and then—“maybe keep your clothes in the fucking hamper next time, though.”
“sorry,” the smile in his voice is almost audible—you can’t see it from where you are, but you can hear it in his voice. you roll your eyes, and satoru makes no move to loosen his arms around you. for some reason, you don’t move.
you’re not sure why, but you just don’t.
“you’re still just as messy, huh?” you roll your eyes—he laughs, and it’s a smooth, boyish chuckle that almost makes you wonder for a moment if this is why girls seem to love satoru so much despite his god-awful personality.
it’s a pretty beautiful sound—you hate that you have to admit that to yourself.
“yeah,” he admits, “it drives suguru nuts.”
“yeah, i can’t imagine why,” you snort. it’s like that for a moment—satoru’s muscled arms around you and hard chest pressed against your back. finally, you clear your throat. “you can let go now, you know.”
“right,” he mumbles, slowly pulling away—and when you turn to face him….is that disappointment? on his face? you don’t get a chance to be sure because then he’s bending down to pick up his shirt before he’s standing—he’s already wiped the expression from his features completely by then. “sorry about that, toothless. i’ll keep my shirts off the floor next time.”
“that would be so kind of you,” you smile sarcastically.
and then you shut the door in his face and exhale as you lean against the wall.
this is going to be a longer break than you thought.
—————
the next time you run into him, it’s late at night. everyone is asleep—even your brother and his headache of a best friend, if the silence tells you anything. you can’t sleep, though, so you make your way to the kitchen to hunt for snacks. you’re skimming through the pantry before your eyes land on a surprise—a box of strawberry pocky sits nice and enticingly, right there for you to open and devour.
you grin, reaching over when—
“those are mine,” satoru calls, stepping into the kitchen, “brought them over myself. you should ask before touching people’s things.”
“you literally ate my leftovers the other night,” you say incredulously.
“those were yours? i thought they were suguru’s.” he raises a brow in surprise, making you click your teeth in irritation.
“the principle of asking still applies,” you purse your lips. and then defiantly, you open the box and grab a pack right before his eyes.
he scowls—but you know he doesn’t actually mind because he waits for you to finish grabbing yours before taking the box and grabbing his own pack and a coke from the fridge. you both take a seat at the kitchen table, across from each other, as you open the packaging and silently eat your newfound snack.
it’s satoru who breaks the silence first.
“do you still throw away the ends of these?”
you huff indignantly, not meeting his eyes as you take a bite off the strawberry-covered end, stopping at just where the cookie portion is uncoated. “yes. i’m eating these for the coating—not the bland biscuit part.”
“what’re you, five?” he snickers, earning a glare from you. defiantly, you pop the end of the pocky stick into your mouth just to prove a point—and then the look of distaste makes him cackle louder.
“shut up,” you hiss, “you talk too much.”
“the ladies love it when i do,” he bats his lashes—you stare at him blankly, unimpressed.
“yeah, as if.”
“hey, my ex-girlfriend totally did,” he defends.
ex-girlfriend? that’s a bit of a shocker—you didn’t know satoru dated anyone in the last few years, you haven’t seen or heard anything of it through suguru’s end. in all realness, you didn’t even think satoru was the boyfriend type…but then again, he’s not really the anything type. he just kind of exists to take up space and be the bane of your existence.
“i hope the poor girl is recovering well after dating you,” you shake your head, feigning a concerned look on your face that makes him roll his eyes—they’re still disturbingly bright even in the dark kitchen, dimly lit by the slightest bit of moonlight pouring in through the small window.
“i dated her freshman and sophomore year,” he says casually. you also didn’t expect that—that it lasted that long. something about satoru doesn’t strike you as the long-term relationship kind of guy. something about him doesn’t seem like the relationship kind of guy at all. not because he’s the type to mess around casually, but because he seems the type to seem disinterested all around—he’s snobby like that. “she was…alright, i guess.”
yeah. very snobby.
“you are such a sick bastard,” you spit.
he snorts, taking a bite of his pocky as he shakes his head in amusement. you’re as feisty as ever—it’s always fun riling you up, even if unintentionally.
“hey, it’s not like she was bad. she was just…well, she wasn’t interested in me like that either,” he shrugs, “i think it was just the sex. it was good, can’t lie there.”
“you’re so gross,” you roll your eyes, “have some decorum.”
“what, you’re still sixteen?” he raises a brow, lips curling into a smirk as he reaches for another pocky, “can’t say the word s-e-x?”
“i don’t broadcast my sexual activities out in the open,” you shrug.
satoru chuckles, taking a bite that more or less finishes the entire stick in one go before he presses a finger to his lips, “shh. don’t say that too loud—suguru will come chase you from his room if he hears.”
“suguru,” you groan, “he’s such a pain to have around sometimes. y’know i dated this one guy last year. i think suguru might’ve paid him to dump me.”
“i know. he definitely thought about it,” satoru hums, “he used to go off about it all the time. he was right, though—that guy was a total prick.”
something about you is mildly shocked that satoru knows about your private life—sure, it’s not outrageous or even the slightest bit unlikely that suguru mentions you. satoru and suguru are best friends, and you happen to be suguru’s sister—of course, suguru is bound to mention you here and there. it’s just the fact that satoru even pays attention to anything to do with you that surprises you—although you suppose it would be a good way for him to find his next source to push your buttons.
“i’m not surprised you think he’s a prick,” you nod, “it takes one to know one, after all.”
“oh yeah?” he snorts, waving you off, “i do, in fact remember anniversaries, y’know.”
“okay,” you sigh, defeated—your ex-boyfriend is admittedly not at the top of the list of your brightest choices. not even up halfway on the list. in fact, he’s so low on the list of good choices you’ve made, that willingly choosing to interact with satoru feels like an exceptional decision in comparison. and that’s saying something. “he was pretty bad. but he was really hot. when a guy looks like that, his values are the least of my worries.”
it’s a joke—you’re sure he knows that. but satoru takes a long sip from his coke, silent for a moment. you don’t think you’ve ever seen him so serious, especially so suddenly.
“he can’t be that hot,” he mutters.
“oh he was really hot. probably the hottest guy i’ve ever talked to—” satoru bites his pocky a bit aggressively at that, “and he was so tall. maybe taller than you—how tall are you again? anyway, he was pretty enough to overlook his shortcomings.”
“he’s probably not taller than me,” he grumbles, frowning. you snort—men and their fragile little egos, you think in amusement.
“he was,” you tease, “he was so tall, i’d let him do whatever he wanted.”
“that’s a terrible way to look at it,” he scrunches his brows, “you shouldn’t let some guy walk all over you because he’s tall and his face is a bit easy on the eyes—”
“i know you’re not talking—”
“i’m serious,” he cuts you off. something about him reminds you of suguru for a moment—like he cares who you’re with because he has a reason to. as if you mean something to him, as if knowing someone who doesn’t deserve you has you in their palms is upsetting.
but then you shake the thought out of your head—satoru doesn’t care. he’s never had a reason to, and you don’t exactly plan to give him one, either.
“okay, dad,” you roll your eyes, “i learned my lesson. i have standards now.”
“good,” he nods—and then, as if to keep himself in character, he adds, “because i don’t want to help suguru kill someone, and it’s over something lame like forgetting his little sister’s anniversary. i’d like to go to jail for something more badass.”
“you and badass don’t belong in the same sentence,” you raise a brow. “let’s be realistic.”
“oh yeah? that’s rich coming from—”
“guys, it is five in the morning,” suguru grumbles, throwing a water bottle at satoru’s head. you glance at the kitchen entrance, eyeing a half-asleep and very irritable suguru as he crosses his arms, “can’t you idiots fight over who’s more of a loser at reasonable hours? some of us like to sleep.”
“want one?” you offer your pack of pocky, holding it out to him.
suguru blinks, contemplating for a second before sighing and trudging over.
“yeah,” he mutters, flicking your forehead. “gimme that.”
you watch woefully as suguru takes the entirety of your pack, swiftly sitting next to satoru and leaving you empty-handed. satoru snickers obnoxiously at the deflated look on your face—and then he holds out his pack to you.
you look between him and the pack for a moment before giving him a genuine smile. it’s a rare sight—he drinks it in as you carefully take one and bicker over something with suguru.
you’re pretty when you smile, he thinks—pretty enough that if you had horrible values (which you don’t), he might feel inclined to understand your (awful) reasoning for a moment.
and then he blinks and shakes the thoughts out of his head—it’s going to be a long break.
—————
satoru meets you when you’re six.
he’s nine at the time, and he feels on top of the world knowing he’s three whole years older than you—in hindsight, three years is not a very large gap, but to nine-year-old him, it feels like centuries. he’s remembered you as the fun little drama queen that’s too easy to poke fun at for years—that’s all you’ve always been: suguru’s younger sister who puffs her cheeks out and scowls way too often to be normal, the girl that’s way too easy to tease than should be standard.
somehow, he wasn’t expecting for you to come back so grown…and so hot. suddenly, it really hits him that you’re not a kid—have not really been for a long time now. he’s always treated you like you’re way younger than he is, way too little to be in his presence and be worthy of it—but you’ve really become a fine young woman.
a magnetizing one, in fact.
it’s now his third night at your house—your parents are as lovely and welcoming as ever, and suguru is always a good time to be around. but somehow, satoru is not satisfied. not anywhere near sated by the few, minimal moments of contact with you.
when did you get so pretty? although, as much as satoru has always liked to poke fun at you, you’ve never been ugly. not even a little—but you’ve grown into your features better, outgrown the awkward teenage era of your life, and now present yourself with a newfound confidence that just looks…so good. satoru doesn’t see his best friend's kid sister anymore—no, there’s something so alluring about you now.
the nail on the coffin that solidifies he’s officially screwed is when you mention your ex-boyfriend—why would your dating life make him this irrationally angry? why is the thought of someone being on the receiving end of your praise (and shameless heart-eyes) so aggravating for him?
he doesn’t know—but what he does know is that the raging boner has been killing him all morning ever since he woke up from…well, less than proper dreams about you.
so now he’s here, forehead pressed against your shower wall as the hot water hits his back, swollen cock in his fist as he thumbs at the tip, teasing the slit just the way he likes. he thinks about you—how he’d show you what makes him feel good, how you’d probably learn fast and take care of him just the way he needs.
your hand would look so much daintier compared to his—smaller, but he’s sure it would still feel infinitely better.
he bites his lip, fighting back a moan as he strokes himself slowly, pre cum smeared along the length of his hard, aching cock—red and angry at the tip, leaking with more pre cum no matter how many times his thumb collects every drop.
“f-fuck—” he breathes, and his voice lets out a shaky, breathy little call of your name—he’s screwed if anyone hears it. he’s sure you and suguru will both band together to kill him, but thankfully, the words are lost in the sound of the shower running. “fuck baby,” he says hoarsely, voice cracking ever so slightly as he whines.
it’s soft and quiet, the noises he makes—careful and deliberately hushed to make sure no one hears the improper way he’s thinking of you right now. but fuck, your tits are so pretty when you walk out of your room in a t-shirt in the mornings—he can just tell you’re not wearing a bra. he can’t stop thinking about it, can’t stop trying to picture what they’d look like uncovered and bouncing.
“jus’ like that, baby,” he pants, whimpering softly as he squeezes around his tip, teasing himself with that slow, painful pace of his.
satoru is sure that if it were you, that if the hand stroking his cock right now was yours, you would never let him cum so easily—you’d drag it out just like this, pump him slowly and twist your hand around him in a pace that’s painfully not enough before ever thinking about letting him come undone.
it’s just the way that you are—never ready to back down from a challenge, unwilling to go down without a fight. but he loves it, he thinks—lives for the way you keep him on his toes and work for the satisfaction.
“more,” he gasps, “n-need more—gimme more, sweetheart.”
he imagines it—the way you’d kiss his jaw, maybe even the corner of his mouth, as you hum. say please, toru, you’d probably say—and fuck, he’d kill to hear you say toru.
“please,” he rasps, “please, baby. d-don’t tease.”
he can practically hear your light giggles, the sweet, okay, baby. no more teasing, that you might whisper. he’d also kill to hear you call him baby—he’s almost nauseous at the idea that some other guy must’ve heard the pet name from your lips before him. and then he lets himself pump his erection faster, squeezing tighter as his thighs quiver while he stands in the shower.
fuck—you feel so good. you’re not even here, but he’s sure you do, and he’s desperate to envision it. it practically hurts—the way he’s so hard and swollen and ready to release. just for you, he wants to tell you, he’s going to cum all for you.
“baby,” he whimpers, “‘m so, so close—fuck ‘m gonna cum. ‘s for you—gonna cum for you—ngh, sh-shit.”
and then there’s cum on the tile walls, on his hands, on his abs as they flex with every labored breath. satoru cums—hard. his eyes are squeezed shut, lips parted with a silent cry as he pants and strokes himself through his high. you’d kiss him, he likes to think, on his jaw and cheeks and maybe the tip of his nose as you sit on his lap and work him through his orgasm. you’d watch him closely, take in the way he comes undone for you, maybe even call him your pretty boy as he paints your hand white with his seed.
would you praise him? murmur softly into his ear and seal the gentle words with a kiss to his skin? would you stroke his hair from his face as you admire his blissful, fucked out little expression? maybe he’d ask you then—maybe he’d ask you to admit he’s way more handsome than that douchebag you dated as your hand holds his softening cock, sticky with his release.
god, what he wouldn’t do to see your hands coated with his cum—did you do this for your ex? did he look as hot as you claim he was when he came for you? the thought makes him sour—he grits his teeth and clenches his jaw at the idea, panting and catching his breath as he stares down at the mess he’s made.
he should feel bad—this is wrong. so, so wrong—suguru would kill him if he was aware satoru was lusting over his little sister. but it felt so fucking good—he’s never cum as hard as when he’s pictured cumming for you.
it can’t be that wrong, if that’s the case—can it?
——
“suguru,” your voice is shrill, deadly—like you’re out for blood. “next time you jack off in the shower, maybe clean the fucking wall? are you joking?”
“wha—i definitely cleaned that,” suguru defends.
oh, fuck, satoru thinks—he forgot to clean that. so he makes himself very scarce and stays within the confinements of suguru’s bedroom—his messy habits are starting to really catch up to him. if his defense, he really would clean that up…it’s just that he was a bit distracted.
“so you admit you jack off in our shower? our shower?” you sound inconsolable, downright devastated, and borderline hysterical. having siblings seems like a lot of trouble, he thinks—but then again, sometimes satoru is jealous of your bond with suguru. it’d be nice to have someone in his family he can actually depend on. “keep that shit for your bedroom, you jackass!”
“well, how am i supposed to do that when satoru is there? you tell me.”
“i don’t know! figure it the fuck out—you guys probably jack off together anyway.”
“what?” suguru sounds appalled, “we do not—that’s outrageous.”
“whatever,” you say—you sound almost murderous as you warn, “next time you better clean up your fucking mess, you asshole.”
satoru can’t help but smile a little—your pointer finger is definitely held up as you scold suguru—you’re so cute when you’re mad, he thinks. he almost wants to step out and catch a glimpse, but he decides against it for now.
silently, satoru thanks his best friend for taking one for the team—even if it was unknowingly.
—————
it’s night four.
satoru has surprisingly kept to himself—he even promptly looked away after meeting your eyes in the kitchen yesterday morning as you walked in for breakfast. that’s…new. a lot about satoru is new.
he’s taller and more muscular now—at one point, suguru used to tower over his scrawny little form. now he’s seemed to grow into his body, seemed to learn how to style himself better, and actually do his hair a bit. it’s still messy now that he’s just lazing around in your home—but it’s oddly handsome.
scarily handsome, in fact.
you don’t enjoy the idea of thinking about the jerk of your childhood like that—but ever since you felt the hard press of his chest against your back, sometimes you wonder what it’s like to know satoru outside of just your older brother’s obnoxious friend.
maybe, somewhere along the line, had you put your pride aside and actually tried to get to know him, maybe you both could at least be friendly. but then again, there’s never been any real animosity between you two—you can share a lighthearted talk from time to time, like that night in the kitchen.
you decide not to dwell on it too much, decide that he’s not really worth your thoughts when he’s just a guy who’s always been a bit too spoiled to learn how to be humble. instead, you go down to the kitchen to grab another pack of strawberry pocky—satoru will just have to deal with it. if he doesn’t want his snacks eaten, he shouldn’t keep them in the pantry where anyone could stumble across them.
you walk into the kitchen until—oh. it’s satoru. again.
“oh, hey,” he grins cheekily, taking a sip of his coke—he needs to break the habit of having so much sugar this late at night…but then again, why would it matter to you? “stalkin’ me?”
“for an unwelcomed guest, you sure do talk a lot,” you roll your eyes, making his lips curl into a smug little smirk.
“i don’t know—your parents seem to love having me over. what if i become their newest son?”
“i doubt my parents are looking to adopt you,” you raise a brow, slightly amused.
he hums, sipping his coke before blinking at you through those long, perfect lashes of his. “well, there are other ways to blend into a family. marriage, for example, is a great way.”
“you and my brother might as well marry each other,” you snort, “no one else will do it.”
“who said anything about suguru?” he winks, chuckling when your face twists into an exaggerated look of horror—always as dramatic as ever, you are. he can’t help but find an endearing side to it now.
satoru stands, walks over to where you are and stands in front of you as you scoff, shaking your head as you huff out a disbelieving chuckle.
“that’s pushing it,” you muse, “marrying you would be the last open option i’d have left—and even then i doubt i’d ever take it.”
“yeah?” he raises a brow, leaning in so close, you can practically feel his breath fan over you. he smells like expensive cologne and your shampoo—why is he using yours instead of suguru’s? before you can even ask him what he’s doing, he throws away the empty can of coke in the trash can behind you, eyes bright with amusement as your breath hitches.
it’s like he knows—the fucking asshole.
“yeah,” you breathe, “you don’t deserve me,” you try to say matter-of-factly. it comes off a bit more breathless than you intended—the air feels suffocating. maybe because satoru is so close, maybe because his breath is on your face, maybe because all you can smell and feel and hear is him.
you can’t find it in yourself to pull away—why aren’t you pulling away? it’s just like that day he caught you, when his arms wrapped around you and all you felt like doing was lean into his chest. what about satoru and you has shifted so quickly to make you want to do that? what makes him so easy to fall into when all you’ve always known was to shove at him?
he hums, leaning in closer and closer until his forehead touches yours. “you know who didn’t deserve you?” he asks, “that shitty ex of yours.”
you look up at him with wide eyes, speechless as his hands find purchase of your hips, grabbing them and pulling you closer—and against better judgment, your hands lay themselves across his chest. it’s as firm as you remember it.
“how would you know—”
“heard suguru rant about it all the time,” he murmurs, “how he forgot your dates. got you a shitty birthday present. didn’t show up to your anniversary. made you hang out with his friends and didn’t even meet half of yours. you’re tellin’ me he deserves you more than me?”
“he was hot—”
“yeah? and i’m not?”
he’s cocky—you hate that about him. always did. but he’s so close, so intoxicating, so irresistible, and fuck, he is hot—so incredibly hot, you’ve been losing sleep over it the last four nights no matter how hard you try to deny it.
“satoru, what are you—”
“y’know, i’ve been helping suguru pick your birthday presents since you were twelve. i’d pick you the best gifts,” his nose is brushing against yours now, lips just millimeters away from his as he speaks—“and i never forget an important date. i’m very punctual too, believe it or not. i’d meet your little friends—show ‘em what a catch i am when you introduce me.”
“and what am i supposed to do with this information?” you ask defiantly.
it’s a last-ditch effort—you both know this. you know exactly what he wants you to do with this information.
“i don’t know, sweetheart,” he chuckles, “what do you think?”
and then you’re kissing him—because fuck, satoru is right there, and how could you not? his chest is under your palms, his lips are right against yours, and you can feel his thumb rub circles into your hips.
so you kiss him—loop your arms around his neck and tug him closer and press your lips to his. he groans, responds almost instantly as his mouth molds against yours, kissing you deeper as his hand moves to cup your cheek.
your lips are softer than he thought, and his hair is silky against your fingers. you tug at the strands, grab a handful, and feel them against your fingers like you’ve wanted to for so long. and when he nips at your bottom lip, who are you to deny him? your lips part, letting his tongue slide in and taste you with a breathy sigh that makes your knees wobble.
“s-satoru,” you stutter, whispering between kisses, “suguru might come in like last time—”
“god,” he groans, head burying into your neck, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses against the skin, “don’t fucking talk about your brother right now. please.”
“my room,” you say urgently—it’s all he needs to hear before his hands are on your ass, grabbing you as you wrap your legs around his hips. it’s urgent, the way his mouth is back on yours—he doesn’t pull away even once the entire walk to your room, not even when he lets your back fall onto the mattress as he hovers over you, pressing kisses along your collarbone.
no bra, he notes happily, his hand sneaking under your shirt to toy with your pert nipples.
“god, you’ve been driving me fuckin’ crazy,” he mumbles, tugging the hem of your shirt over your arms and tossing it over his shoulder. he stares, takes in the sight of the same tits he’s been fantasizing over for the last few days in awe. “you know that? been thinkin’ about these for days,” he says lowly, cupping your tit and massaging as he presses a kiss to your jaw.
“you’re shameless,” you mutter, snorting before you cut yourself off with a gasp as he squeezes your nipple, pinching and rolling it between his fingers and pulling a soft whine from you.
“shhh,” he chuckles, tilting his head toward the wall next to you, “don’t want suguru to hear, do you? that wouldn’t be nice, would it?”
“it’ll be worse for you than me,” you grin, tugging at the hem of his own shirt, indicating you want it off. he grins widely, wiggling his brows and making you purse your lips.
“wanna see me shirtless again, huh? third times the charm, as they say,” he winks. you would retort with something as witty, but then your eyes fall on that tattoo again—right under his collarbone, making your hand reach out to trace it with your thumb.
“what compelled you to get this corny little tattoo of yours,” you grin, giggling as you trace over the small infinity sign.
for the first time, you think you witness satoru shy, blushing as he rubs the back of his neck and chuckles awkwardly. “that…that was an accident. when i got drunk for the first time.”
“oh,” you snort, “you’re so weak, satoru—”
“do me a favor, sweetheart,” he hums, cutting you off, “as much as i love when you say my name, say toru for me, yeah? i wanna hear it.”
you roll your eyes, huffing as your hand finds the back of his head and pulls him into another kiss, moaning into his mouth as he grinds the throbbing erection in his sweats over your heated core.
“toru,” you say breathlessly, “more.”
that’s all he needs to hear—satoru doesn’t waste a second before he’s crawling between your legs, sliding your cute little pajama pants down your legs before meeting your dripping pussy.
it’s wet—so wet, he almost wants to chuckle and tease you a bit. just for old-time's sake. but the ache that shoots down to his cock reminds him that he’s in no position to tease you when he’s not faring any better himself. so he spreads your legs, kisses lightly at your clit in a feather-like touch that has you whimpering and clutching the sheets in anticipation.
“how pretty,” he mumbles, “been hiding this pretty little thing all this time. what a perfect pussy.”
“satoru,” you gasp in embarrassment, hands reaching for his hair and tugging him closer to where you need him most—equal parts because you really need his mouth on your cunt and equal parts because you really need him to shut up.
but he chuckles, takes his time to spread your folds open with his thumbs, and watches in wonder as you flutter around nothing, arousal dripping and leaving a mess. it’s perfect—you’re perfect, and he wants to take his time with you.
“god, you’re soaked,” he groans, chuckling as he murmurs, “that’s fuckin’ cute.”
before you can even whine at the way his words are shameless, his mouth is back to kissing your clit, lips wrapping around it as he sucks and rolls his tongue along the sensitive bud. his fingers sink deep into you, pushing past your folds and slowly bullying into you until the tips of his fingers curl and brush against a spot that makes you squeal.
you gasp a breathy, “fuck, toru—” before he hums around your clit, vibrations making you whimper as he thrusts his fingers back in to hit that spot again. it’s sensitive, the way he makes you feel—your nerves are on fire, and your head is light, and fuck, it feels so good you can’t help but sob brokenly and squeeze your thighs around his head. he moans against your cunt, pulling his fingers out before letting his tongue lick a stripe along your slit, tasting you with a sharp inhale.
“f-feels good,” you whimper, biting your lip as your eyes crinkle at the corners from squeezing shut.
“yeah?” he hums, kissing your inner thigh, leaving a wet little sheen of his spit and your arousal on the skin, “that’s a good girl—just keep telling me how good i make you feel, kay?”
he could stay buried nose-deep into your pussy for as long as you let him—tongue alternating between fucking into you and rolling over your swollen clit, hearing the broken little gasps and whines of his name as you repeat toru over and over again like a prayer. his hand grips at your thigh, sinking his fingertips into the plush skin and rubbing soothingly with his thumb as you rut your hips and grind against his face.
satoru has half a mind to watch it again—to lick and suck at your core again and again just so he could burn into his mind what you look like when you cum. it’s divine—like he’s halfway to stepping into heaven and has to pause just to admire the sight before him.
your hips leave the mattress as your back arches, and your fingers tug relentlessly at his roots as your walls quiver, letting satoru taste every drop of your release as you press a palm to your hand and try to keep yourself from squealing at the pleasure.
suguru is right next door. you can’t wake him—can’t let him know this is what you and his best friend get up to in the late hours of the night.
it’s not until satoru pulls away, catching his breath as he wipes the wet trail on his chin does he realize how hard he is—how badly he’s aching as his cock strains against his sweats. he hisses as he frees himself; ridding his sweats and boxers and wrapping a large hand around the tip of his erection and smearing the leaking pre cum along his length.
you watch in awe, reaching over and replacing his hand with yours. satoru was right—your hand is infinitely smaller than his, and yet, it feels a great deal better. so much better, in fact, that his arms shake as he hovers over you, burying his head into your neck and groaning as you slowly stroke him, squeezing at the tip and rolling your thumb through the slit.
he didn’t even have to show you what he wanted, what makes him feel good, what makes his mind fog with pleasure and burn through every nerve. no, you figure it all out on your own, pulling strangled moans and hushed gasps from him that make your clit ache once more.
“fuck, baby,” he pants, “can’t last long like this—c’mon, g-gotta feel you.” gently, he pries your hand from his thick, pulsing cock, laying it against your stomach as he peers down in fascination. “i’ll be right here,” he hums, drawing a line on your skin right where his tip ends, “see that? that’s where you’ll feel me, sweetheart.”
“then let me feel you,” you murmur, cupping his cheeks and brushing a thumb over the skin, “fuck me, toru—wan’ it so bad.”
so he does—drags his tip along your folds and collects the slick pooling at your entrance before pushing his tip past your folds, splitting you in half as he slowly buries himself to the hilt. his jaw is clenched, breath labored as he waits for you to adjust, lets you kiss his cheeks and nose as you murmur how handsome he is, how perfect he feels, how good is to you.
“that asshole ever make you cum?” he asks lowly, “he ever eat your pussy like that? make you cum hard enough you had to cover your mouth so you’re not screaming his name?”
“no,” you breathe, quivering as his thumb rolls over your clit in slow circles, still painfully still as he stares down at you, “n-no, never. just you—only you—”
“good,” he grins, “that’s what i like to hear. and when i make you cum on my cock, make sure to tell me he’s never done that either, yeah?”
“you’re full of it,” you scoff, “always have been.”
“and you’re full of me,” he says cheekily, chuckling as you glare half-heartedly. “can i move, baby? please? need more, ‘s not enough. n-need more—”
“yeah,” you whimper, pulling him closer, chests brushing against each other as your lips meet in a sloppy kiss, “yeah—need more too, toru.”
satoru, in all his years of knowing you, has never seen the side of you that could be this gentle. the side that glides your hands over his back, feeling every flex and every pull of his muscles, gently caressing the skin like it’s holy, like it’s not worthy of marks—instead to be worshipped and revered with thoughtful touches. your lips sear into every part of him they can find—his lips, his forehead, his nose, his hair as his face digs into your neck. even your voice is a gentle whisper of his name, so soft and careful, it’s like saying it wrong could break him.
your hips buck up in tandem with his, meeting his rhythm as he slams into you, his balls slapping against your skin as he buries his cock into you as deep as it’ll go with every harsh thrust. you can feel his tip kissing against that sweet spot in the back of your walls, your abused cunt sucking him in and hugging around him as he groans.
the friction feels sickening, like he’ll pass out any second, like he’s floating between the precipice of pleasure and the edge of consciousness.
you do that to him—he doesn’t know how or when or why, but you make him feel like he doesn’t have a grip on his own senses. he doesn’t mind it so much, he thinks—doesn’t hate the idea of letting himself fall into your palm and wrap around him. it feels nicer that way, like it’s where he belongs.
“fuck, ‘s so tight,” he rasps, whining into your neck as your hand cups the back of his head, holding him in place. his hips are rutting into you sloppily now, barely maintaining the rhythm from before as he nears his high—but that doesn't stop him from angling into you perfectly, slamming into your sensitive spot every time without fail. “c-cum—’m gonna cum. cum with me, sweetheart.”
“‘m so close, toru,” you sob—and then, just as his thumb finds your clit again, rubbing harsh, desperate little circles to get you over the edge, you cum again—harder than the last time, spasming around his cock and pulling him in as you squeeze around him. “t-toru,” you gasp brokenly, “fuck, ‘s good—so good.”
“baby,” he moans lowly, “fuck, you’re so perfect. prettiest thing ever—prettiest pussy ever. i, sh-shit—” your orgasm quickly has him falling into his own, hot, thick ropes of cum spilling into you with every twitch of his cock, sweet little noises pulled from his throat that he sings into your neck, fucking his load into you.
it’s messy, the way cum spills out of you and coats his cock—but it’s perfect and feels so, so right. you can’t help but think how perfectly satoru fits against you as his body slumps on top of yours, panting and spent as he cages you in his arms.
your hand doesn’t leave his hair—now that you know how it feels, you don’t think you can stop threading your fingers through it, ever.
“wow, toothless,” he chuckles after a bit, “you’re seriously obsessed with me, huh? i mean, how long have you been nursing this crush on me, hmm? thinking about your brother’s best friend, you naughty little thing—”
“satoru, would you shut that mouth for once,” you hiss, rolling your eyes—still, there’s an affectionate grin on your lips this time as he chuckles into your skin.
“oh baby, i’m afraid this mouth never shuts, so you should get used—”
suddenly, you both freeze as you hear suguru’s voice through the door. “you two better not be fucking doing what i think you’re doing,” he seethes, making your jaw drop and satoru’s eyes widen.
fuck—that was never supposed to happen. suguru was never supposed to hear, let alone know.
“hey,” satoru starts, “if suguru kicks me out of our place, i can come be your new permanent housemate, right?”
do not comment about a part 2
but yeah he can come live with me any time and as long as he pays by sucking my tiddies i shall provide all food and utilities and everything
#teepods.writings#fics.#thirstee!#gojo x reader#gojo x you#gojo smut#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jjk smut#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru smut#gojo satoru x you#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen smut
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[◉°] … TOJI FUSHIGURO TAKES A LIE DETECTOR TEST… 9.6M VIEWS
꩜ actor!toji (& implied actor toji x actress/actor reader)
⤷ synopsis: toji thought this lie detector test was going to be a breeze. he was a little mistaken.
sfw, fluff, crack, ooc toji, toji & reader are secretly together, toji lying!
masterlists
actor!toji masterlist
⪩ ₊ 🍪 ✧ ⁺
“i ain’t nervous,” toji claims, cracking his neck and smirking as the crew members attach the needed equipment to his body, “i ain’t no liar either. so i got nothing to worry about here.”
“i sure hope that’s true, mr.fushiguro.” the polygraph examiner replies slyly.
“are you ready, toji fushiguro?” the interviewer asks.
“yeah, i am,” toji claps, “hurry up and get started.”
“is your name toji fushiguro?”
“yes my name is toji fushiguro.” he looks to the polygraph examiner. “it is, right?”
the woman simply stares at him.
“..alright then…”
the interviews asks another question. “are you about to take a polygraph exam?”
“yes, yes and yes, now give me the real questions!”
TOJI FUSHIGURO TELLS THE TRUTH
YOUR CAREER
“we’re going to start with the category of your career.”
toji nods and looks to the examiner. “how ‘m i doing?”
“you’re very calm, nothing unusual yet.”
“hm.”
the interview begins to speak. “one of your most popular roles as an actor was when you played Frank Castle in the Netflix series, “The Punisher”. some would say this is when you became a heartthrob. do you think is this true?”
toji sighs and shakes his head. “nah-”
“LIE.” the polygraph examiner calls out.
toji raises his hand. “…because, i was already a heartthrob before alla that.” he smiles, looking proud of himself. his answer is met with silence.
“ok.” says the interviewer and goes onto the next question. “do you face a lot of pressure being a heartthrob?”
“nope.” toji answers easily. “i’m just that kinda guy. i ain’t gotta try too hard for much, especially not ‘being hot’.”
he looks at the examiner.
“he’s telling the truth.” she states. she almost seems disappointed by the fact.
“see?” toji says, folding his arms, “as i said, ‘got nothin’ to lie about.”
“in the punisher,” the interviewer starts, ignoring toji’s cocky replies, “do you wear a muscle suit to look bigger than you actually are?”
toji throws his back, cackles echoing around the small room. “fuck no!” he gestures to…his whole body, “‘it look like i need a muscle suit? ‘didn’t even know that shit was a thing… i’m big enough without any of that stuff.” he shrugs, looking into the camera. “i think we can all see that.”
the examiner nods curtly. “..he is telling the truth.”
“do you workout often?” asks the interviewer.
toji scoffs. “i thought i’d get good questions..but yeah, yeah i do workout.”
“would you consider yourself fit?”
“yep. ‘hundred percent.”
“would you consider yourself fitter than,” the interviewer slides a photo of the actor gojo satoru towards toji, “this man?”
“pfft-” toji chortles. “oh, ohh yeah. easily. he’s like..” he looks for the correct words, “a little boy. are we kidding?”
he looks to the examiner and then to the interviewer.
“he is being truthful..again.”
toji smirks at the camera, tapping the side of his nose with his finger. “toji never lies.”
POP CULTURE
“this year, you were named “The Most Sexiest Man Alive” by People Magazine. do you believe you’re sexier than this man, 2022’s sexiest man, nanami kento?” the interviewer slides another photo, this time of the actor nanami kento.
toji looks at the photo for a second, before scoffing a little. “oh yeah. definitely. ‘guy just has a permanent frown on his face. he ain’t ugly but he could smile a little, y’know?”
“what about this ‘guy’, 2021’s most sexiest man alive, ryomen sukuna?” the interviewer also slides a picture of him to toji.
toji strokes his chin. “heh..yeah..yeah i would say so..this guy..he ain’t ugly either but..theres this energy about him..”
“what energy would that be, toji fushiguro?”
“the energy of a fuckin’ mass murderer that’s what!” he laughs at his own joke, looking at the picture of this ‘ryomen sukuna’, who is glaring into his soul through the image. “yeahh, i’d say i’m more attractive than him. just.. just a little.” he holds two fingers close together emphasis. “jesus christ, that’s one scary looking fuck.”
the examiner inspects the polygraph and looks towards toji and the interviewer. “he has been telling the truth.”
“yeah.” toji nods, exhaling through his mouth and sliding the pictures away from himself. “‘course i am.”
LOVE LIFE
toji had been doing well so far, but the category of ‘love life’ would be his downfall.
“do you want to get married in the future?”
“yeah, yeah i do.”
the examiner nods.
“have you ever been in love?”
“..yes.” toji responds, thinking about his past for a second.
the examiner nods again.
“are you in love right now?”
toji pauses for the first time in the whole test. he takes a deep breath. “no. yeah, no. ‘m not.”
the examiner raises an eyebrow at the results. “questionable.”
“oh, c’mon.” toji groans, rolling his eyes.
“is there someone you’re in love with?”
“nope. nobody at all.” he interlinks his fingers, tapping them against each other. “..nobody at all..”
“questionable. again.” the examiner states, pointedly looking at toji.
toji sighs. “oh, brother…”
“did you happen to meet this person..on set?”
“no, ‘cause there is no person?” toji says firmly.
“again.” the examiner says. “questionable.”
“christ…”
the interviewer asks another question. “do you believe in love at first sight?”
toji huffs. “no, that’s just two people who wanna fuck.”
“i see. then,” the interviewer takes out three pictures, all of them being people who he has worked with on set, including you.
“are you in love with any of these people?”
toji gulps, hesitating for a split second, his eyes focused on your picture. “nope. not oneeee bit.”
“LIE.” the examiner shouts excitedly, happy to have finally caught toji out on lying. she rings the negative buzzer repeatedly. “lie!”
“‘you serious?” he asks incredulously, looking between the interviewer and the examiner. “listen, maybe it was just my heart murmur or somethin’ like that,” he looks to side, cheeks rosy and shifts in his seat a little, “i-i don’t-”
“those are the last of our questions.” the interviewer says to toji, smiling knowingly. “thank you for taking part in our lie detector test.”
toji grumbles.
౨ৎ
tag list: @tiredslepz | @hayatslife | @shxyxyxxxx | @snowprincesa1 | @laylasbunbunny | @mimiemie | @ncentic | @rosesored | @imover-18 | @gintokhi | @suzuperstarr | @lostgxrlblog | @jallie10 | @nnsav | @bunnyx-sakura | @bubbabobabubbles | @ladytamayolover | @keiva1000
a/n: this was longer than i planned 🤥
#I’m so sorry i always forget the taglist i’m not used to one i’m so sorry😭#actor!toji#toji x reader#toji x gn!reader#toji x you#toji x y/n#toji x self insert#toji fluff#toji fushiguro x reader#toji fushiguro x you#toji fushiguro x y/n#toji fushiguro fluff#fushiguro toji x reader#fushiguro toji x you#fushiguro toji fluff#toji x gender neutral reader#toji x gender neutral!reader
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𝕾𝖙𝖗𝖚𝖌𝖌𝖑𝖊𝖘 𝖔𝖋 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖊𝖆𝖘𝖔𝖓
pairing: Alastor x fem!doe Reader
summary: Mating season has it’s struggles and it affects Y/N the most.
warning: no smut yet(sorryyy), talks of sex and heat, mostly fluff and Alastor being a sweetie
It has a part 2 :)
Everyone, except one person from the Hotel, was in the parlor, having coffee and just eating breakfast.
Y/N had locked herself in her room, only coming out for a few minutes to gather herself food for the whole day and to let everyone know that she was okay.
“No, but really… What the fuck is up with her?” Asked Angel.
“It’s that time of the year for deers, it’s called mating season, I looked it up.” Charlie said, before, she was worried about her so she found a book about it and learnt about it.
“Oohhh, so our doe is horny? It’s a mood, honestly.” Angel instantly got into his flirty voice and he turned to Husk “Don’t whiskers gets heats? Mmmh… We could satisfy it together!” He leaned more into him, but he only got shoved off.
“Fuck off!”
For the first time that morning, Alastor decided to speak. “It’s more than sexual feelings.” All heads turned to him in question, so he continued. “Female deers are overwhelmed by their maternal instincts, their whole bodies are aching to take care of their own little fawns.”
Vaggie spoke. “So, she is pregnant?”
“AWWW—-“ Charlie’s eyes turned big and teary.
Alastor chuckled in response. “Heavens no! This is where the sexual instincts slip in—“
“Slip in?” Angel raised his brow suggestively, but got a flick to the head, by Husk again.
“Ha.ha.ha. No. Whether she mates or not, her body still feels the need to mother.”
“That’s why she is curled up all day in that big pile of blankets?” Vaggie asked and both Charlie and Alastor nodded in unison.
“She also put on some weight too? Don’t get me wrong, it’s sexy. Her thighs are so plushy and her ass and ti—-“
“Yes, she gains weight in case she needs to feed a fawn and keep it warm during the cold season.”
There was a bit of comfortable silence before… guess who spoke up again.
“Hold on a second.” Angel perked his head up. “Aren’t you supposed to be in heat too? You’re a deer, too.”
All heads turned to Alastor, who didn’t show how uncomfortable he felt. He only chuckled with a wide smile, but before he could have brushed it off, the missing doe entered the parlor.
“Good morning!” All kinds of greetings were heard. She sat down on the couch.
“How are you today?” Husk asked her.
She smiled. “I’m okay, thank you. I am just going out, I have to stock up on my sweets, I’ve ran out. Anyway… I’m just goi—“ She started to make her way to the door, but Alastor appeared in front of her.
“Like hell you are! It’s dangerous out there for you.” He leaned closer to her and whispered in her ear. “You wouldn’t want any bucks catching your scent and doing… heaven knows what.”
“B-but I need my sweets.” She huffed.
Alastor just stroked her ears. “Don’t you worry, doe, I’ll go out and get them for you.”
“Oh, I couldn’t possibly ask that.” Their faces were inches away, completely oblivious that all eyes were on them and all lips were smirking their way.
“Nonsense! You just go back to your nest, lock the door and I will be there in a bit, with all you could need.” When he finished his sentence, he was already out the door.
She turned around, she needed to get back, every nerve in her body was on the edge.
When both deers were gone, Angel spoke again.
“What the fuck did I just witness?!”
“Her body acknowledged that a buck gave her commands, so she must comply.” Charlie said, with a smug undertone in her voice.
Everyone scaterred after that, only Husk and Angel were at the bar, sipping on their usual strong liquor.
“So… Creepy face is in heat too.”
Husk stopped the cleaning of the glasses to laugh.
“Exactly.”
“So, a fawn running around the hotel is not too far way in time, is it?” His fingers glided around the rim of the glass.
“If it’s up to Alastor, it will be even sooner.”
#alastor x y/n#alastor x reader#alastor smut#hazbin hotel x y/n#hazbin hotel x you#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel alastor#hazbin hotel fanfic#hazbin hotel fandom#hazbin hotel fanfiction#hazbin hotel fluff#hazbin alastor#hazbin hotel#alastor x you#alastor fanfic#alastor fanfiction#alastor fluff#alastor#alastor altruist
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Moms Friend
warnings: age gap (reader is 19 and Nat is 39), mommy kink (N), blow job, eating out, fingering, p in v, dirty talk, unprotected sex, breeding kink, cockwarming, a little bit of jealous Nat. That's all!!
Summary: You come home for a bit, and your moms best friend finally makes her move in you.
A/n: This is my first fic i’m posting here!! I apologize if it’s not great!
You had just pulled into the driveway of your childhood home. A few weeks ago you had planned to surprise your mom and come home. Grabbing your bags from the trunk, you walk to the door knocking. You hear your mother shout something incoherent.
"Oh Детка you're home!" Pulling you into a big hug, you catch a glance of your young brothers inside. They see you too running to the door. "Y/n you're home!!" You smile as Billy and Tommy pull you into a big hug.
Vision, your father, steps out into the hall. His smile fades as he sees you. Your relationship with your father is not the greatest, but with your mother it's amazing. Wanda had treated you better than any other mom you could've asked for, her best friend Natasha as well.
It then dawned on you that you haven't seen Natasha in while, so you figured maybe invite her over or ask her if she'd like to plan something. You pulled out your phone, searching for her contact.
After texting her, it was only a matter of time before she answered. You both decided you'd come to her place for lunch while you're mother and father were at work and your brothers at school.
"Y/n honey, tell me how school has been." Wanda asked with a smile. "Just like always, I'm top of most of my classes." You look at her, a proud smile plastered on her face. "Well isn't that just amazing, Vision." She ask him. He returns nothing but a nod, causing a small frown to creep onto your face.
"Oh, mom I'll be having lunch over at Natasha's tomorrow!" You say excitedly. "That's great! She's been asking so much about you, and I just don't know the answer to everything. My girl is a busy girl." She smiled.
Your evening consisted of catching up with your mom, listening to your brothers and all the things you've missed, and your father ignoring that you were even there. You honestly don't know why your mom is still with him, but you know it's probably for the best.
-
The next day arrives soon, and you're on your way to Natasha's house. Your nerves creep. You love Natasha, but there's always been this feeling towards her. A yearning for her. You know you can't act on it, because it's nothing but a silly childhood crush thought something tells you it's more.
You pull into her driveway, the front of her house being decorated with cute fall decor.
Stepping out of your car, the cold air hits your face only making your shivering nervous body worse.
You knock on her door, waiting a few seconds to hear for footsteps. Then you hear them, and Natasha telling you to give her a second. "Y/n!! Gosh I've missed you." She pulls you into a hug, kissing your forehead softly.
She pulls you inside, and quickly helps you remove your coat. Her eagerness to see you makes you smile wide, and laugh. Oh how you've missed her. Nothing or anyone, even your own mother, compares to how Natasha makes you feel.
You catch up with her on everything, while eating the food she prepared. You were interrupted by your friend Kate blowing up your phone with text then a call. "Hold on Nat, let me get this."
"Y/n I am going to hurt you!" She shouts into the phone, "Why the fuck didn't you tell me you were in town!!" You giggle at her, "Hey don't you fucking laugh at me!" Only causing your laughter to worsen.
Natasha on the other hand was not laughing, more jealous that her time was ruined with you. She hated that she got this way, but she couldn't help it. She tried to stop, you're her best friends daughter. You're also 20 years younger than her. Her thoughts were interrupted by your words.
"Sorry Natty, that was Kate. She wants me to come over as soon as possible." Her face like stone as she replies with, "So you're leaving?" Your nerves taking over again, leaving you silent. You don't wanna leave Natasha, you'd stay there forever with her. "Well not now, but probably soon. I'll make it up though, we can have dinner sometime."
-
Soon, the two weeks of being home quickly passed. You still hadn't made it up to Natasha, so you decided you'd show up to her house.
She opens the door, shocked to your arrival. "Y/n what are you here for?" She asked confused. "Well I never made up time lost with you, so I brought a desert and figured I'd spend some time with you and watch a movie or something." She felt a smile creep onto her face.
You settled down quickly on her couch, her following behind. You had both decided on watching (insert wtv movie).
Time had passed fast, she knew if she didn't act then she'd probably loose her chance. "Y/n come here, sit in my lap." You quickly scurry onto her lap, only to be stopped in your tracks when you notice her hard-on. "You feel that baby? It's all for you." She attaches her lips to your neck, kissing softly.
"Nat, what are you doing? We can't do this." You say nervously. "Says who? You're an adult sweetheart."
Within minutes she has you on your knees, pulling down her boxers. Her dick springs out, your face pulling a shocked look at her size. She brings her hand to your face, guiding your mouth into her length. You bob your head up and down on her. Gagging noises and her moans fill the air.
You bring her to her orgasm, swallowing everything she gave you. "Such a good girl for mommy. Now get up on the couch." You follow her orders and she helps you remove your clothes. Her lips attach to your nipple, while her hand gropes at your other breast.
"How's that baby? Is mommy making you feel good?"She asked in a sultry tone. "So good." She smiles at your weaker state, as she kisses down your stomach. Her mouth reaching your core, and her noise brushes your clit causing your hips to jolt. She attached her mouth to your pussy, sucking and licking.
As she works her tongue, she adds her fingers to the mix stretching you out. Your orgasm crashing in, in full speed.
She stands up, then aligns her tip with your entrance pushing in slowly. Once you've adjusted to her size, she shows no mercy on your pussy. "That feel good baby? Mommy's gonna fill you up. My little bitch to breed." You can't even form a sentence in your fucked out state.
"Aww poor thing is too dumb, can't even form a sentence. Tell mommy you want her to fill you up with her babies." You tried to spit the words out, but it just came out as an incoherent mess and moans. "Cmon baby tell me or else I won't." You still didn't speak, not until she pulled out of you. You gasp and quickly spoke out. "Please mommy fill me up!"
She smirked, then thrusted herself back into you. In only a matter of seconds you could feel her cuming inside you. She continued her thrust, your orgasm quickly washing over.
She placed a soft kiss on your head, then pulled herself out of you. Laying down behind you, she slid her cock back into you. "No mommy! I can't-" she quickly shut down your please. "Don't worry baby, I have you. Mommy just wants to be in you." She kisses your shoulder as you drift off to sleep.
#natasha x you#natasha romanoff smut#natasha romanoff x reader#natasha x reader#natasha x y/n#natasha romanoff#natasha romonova#fanfic#marvel
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౨ৎ⋆ ˚｡⋆ the elevator game
matt sturniolo x fem!reader
warnings: swearing, kissing, comforting (kinda?)
a/n: hi lovelies💕 CAN WE TALK AB MATT IN SAM AND COLBYS NEW VIDEO, HELLO?? took inspo from that to write this😇😇. anyways, it’s currently 1:58am and i am BORED. still sick as fuck😪 ILY ALL SM🤍
also i promise i’ll write the chris fics soon, idk why i get motivation to write at 2am.
౨ৎ
“I’ll go with Matt,” you say, throwing a hand up.
“Oh, let’s go!” Sam and Colby exclaims in unison, dragging out the o’s, making you smile shyly.
“Okay, now calm down. Let’s go Matt,” you say calmly, pushing Matt inside the elevator.
You and Matt were going to different floors in the hotel, the one before the last, supposedly being the one where a “ghost/spirit lady” should step in and join you guys. Matt was going to do it alone, but you decided to join him.
“Guys please don’t make out on camera,” Nick shrugs, making everyone laugh.
“Yeah yeah, whatever Nick,” Matt rolls his eyes at him, waving bye as the elevator slowly shuts.
“Goodbye everyone! Please remember me if I pass!” you wave with a giggle.
“Say the thing, Matt,” Sam added quickly before the doors shut.
“Please take me to another world. I may regret saying that, but hey. See you guys later!” Matt said as the elevator shut fully, smiling at you. He watched you tap on the button “4”, the first floor you were going to.
“Alright guys, first floor is the 4th one. You nervous?” he asked, a smile playing on his lips.
“Yeah. A bit, this is not like anything I’ve ever done before,” you chuckled nervously. Matt then reached a hand out to hold yours.
“It’ll be fine, I promise you,” he smiled as he turned the camera to show you push “2”, slowly intertwining his fingers with yours.
“Fuck, it scares me that the elevator door chooses a pace to go. Like, sometimes it’s fast, sometimes it’s slow,” he smiled as the door closed from the second floor.
“Yeah me too, it freaks me the fuck out,” you laughed.
“Okay, sixth floor now!” you added, pressing the button in front of you.
As you guys reached the 5th floor where a “lady” was supposed to walk in, Matt felt you tense up a bit. He reached out for you to wrap an arm around your shoulder, hitting the “1” button.
“You’ll be fine, okay? I’m right here,” he whispered for only you to hear, reassuringly rubbing your shoulder. You just shot him a quick smile as you felt the elevator slowly drop.
“Okay so, that thing has not been going off this entire time,” Matt said, pointing the camera to the device on the floor of the elevator.
“I’m literally shaking, this elevator is freaking me out,” you laughed nervously, referring to the loud creaking from the old lift. Matt looked down at you to press a kiss to the top of your head while giggled.
“We’ll be fine, don’t worry,”
The elevator finally reached the first floor where the rest of the group were, Matt dropping his arm from your shoulder to hold your hand instead.
“That’s all!” he smiled, pulling you out of the elevator.
“How was it? Did that thing go off?” Nick asked excitedly. You turned to look Matt for a second, before turning back to the group.
“No, not really. And we didn’t smell any flowers or roses either. But the elevator itself is scary as fuck,” you laughed, everyone joining you.
“Alright, we’re heading to the stinky room 525, to do the estes method!” Colby declared, turning back to face the elevator. He took the camera from Matt, who then handed it to Sam.
“You alright?” Matt whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek, following the others into the elevator.
“Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks,” you smiled at him, pulling his hand up to kiss it. He giggled in response, Chris and Nick rolling their eyes at you both.
“I really do not hope you guys just made out in this elevator. On camera, for FIFTEEN minutes straight,” Chris laughed, earning a chuckled from the rest of you.
“Chill out dude, we didn’t. But, oh trust me, I tried to behave, I was holding back,” Matt teased, poking your cheek making you blush like crazy. This made him smile, pressing a gently kiss to your forehead.
“You guys should be glad we aren’t recording,” Nick laughed loudly, talking to Sam and Colby, who were both laughing.
a/n: kinda rushed if you couldn’t tell🤡
#matt sturniolo#matt sturniolo fanfic#matt sturniolo smut#matt sturniolo x you#matt sturniolo fluff#matt sturniolo imagine#matt sturniolo x reader#sturniolo triplets#chris sturniolo#nick sturniolo#chris sturniolo fanfic#chris sturniolo smut#nick sturniolo fanfic
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Breeding Kink Miguel O'Hara?👉🏻👈🏻🥺
We’re Both Sinners
✿ฺ Paring ➳❥ Miguel O’Hara x F!Reader
✿ฺ Summary ➳❥ Miguel couldn’t describe it, for the first time, he felt like he lost all sense of control.
✿ฺ (A/n) ➳❥ I gotchu! Inspired by “Sinners” by The Ari Abdul. Also, I’m sorry that this seems rushed, I haven’t written a lot of smut before so apologies!
✿ฺ Word Count ➳❥ 877
✿ฺ Content Warnings ➳❥ Female reader, breeding kink, sexual content, p in v, pet names (Mi Amor), office sex, bruises, biting, nearly caught? Fingering… Please let me know if I missed anything!
The first time was a complete accident. Miguel had no clue that the condom broke so suddenly, he really shouldn’t be surprised since of how hard he was going. It took the cum leaking out of your cunt that sparked something inside of him.
Of course, he’d never do anything without your permission but every time, the words were at the tip of his tongue. How much he wanted to beg you to let him take off the condom and let him fuck you raw. He was getting harder and harder every time, he knew if he didn’t say anything soon, he wasn’t going to be able to control himself.
It was so distracting that he couldn’t even contain himself during work. The shame he felt during important meetings when he felt himself get hard by the simple thoughts. The embarrassment he felt when he was forced out of his thoughts and everyone was staring at his flustered face. Never again. He couldn’t let that happen again.
You noticed his distraction from day one. He seemed lost in thought and papers began piling up on his desk. You knew that it wouldn’t be long before Miguel returned to his home office and remained there late into the night.
It was supposed to be a simple visit. Bring him his lunch and talk with him. His office was dark, almost pitch black but it was normal. The only light was the very small lamp on his desk, facing away from him.
You set his lunch down next to his laptop and sat down at the chair in front of his desk.
You waited a few seconds before you called his name, “Miguel~” You waved a hand in front of his face, and it made him jolt, “I brought you lunch.”
“Uh, thank you, mi amor.” He smiles. You could see him avoiding your gaze.
“How was the meeting?” You begin to poke at him.
“It went well. We went over some numbers that an employee messed up. And-”
“Miguel.”
“Yes?”
“You do know that there was no meeting. Not a single one today.” You sigh, “What’s got you so distracted that it’s affecting your work?”
He glanced at you but immediately turned away when your eyes didn’t move from his. You leaned in, “Please, talk to me.” You whispered.
He felt his cock twitch, “Don’t say that.” He huffs heavily.
“Don’t say what?”
He hissed, “You don’t know how you affect me, do you?” He chuckled, “Teasing me and all.”
He suddenly reached over and grabbed the collar of your shirt, “You said you wanted me to talk, alright then. I’ll show you what’s got my head in a blender.” You can see his blood-red eyes seeping past his brown ones.
“Has anyone seen Mr. O’Hara?” One employee asked another, holding a stack of papers in his arms, “I have the papers he requested.”
“I was told not to bother him.” Another told him.
“Seriously? After I spent hours going through everything he just gave me.” He shakes his head and walks towards his office.
“I wouldn’t-” The employee ignores the other one who sighs, “Do that.” Leaving him to face the consequences.
The employee managed to free one hand and used it to knock on the door, “Mr. O’Hara?” Silence, “Sir?”
“I thought I made it clear that I am to be bothered,” Miguel growls.
“I’m sorry sir but-”
“Come back later!”
The employee huffed but walked away.
“Nearly got us in trouble.” Miguel seethed, feeling you tighten around him as he continues his brutal pace.
“B-But he didn’t hear anything.” His hand slaps over your mouth to silence you.
“But he could’ve and I can’t have that happening.” He whispers in your ear.
Miguel has you bend over his desk. Whatever was originally on his desk was now on the floor. One hand remained on your mouth and the other was gripping your hip.
Your neck is littered with bruises and maybe a bite or two from his fangs. Your hair is a mess from moments ago.
You continue to moan into his hand, “It’s like you want to be caught. Is that what you want?” He removes your hand and grabs a chunk of your hair, tugging, “You want everyone to see how much of a whore you are for their boss. I’m sure you’d enjoy that.”
Miguel let his control slip, hearing himself groan and you cry… He pounded into you harder than ever. You felt another orgasm come and you completely lost count.
But it wasn’t long before his thrusts became sloppy, and soon you heard him loudly groan, cumming inside of you.
He released your hair and his grip on your waist, but he remained over you. His hands support his tired body, “Still distracted?” You pant.
You try getting up but he pushes you back down, “And where do you think you’re going?”
“You still have work.”
“I’m sure they don’t mind having their boss without a few more hours.” You let out a yelp when you felt two of his fingers thrust into you, “Besides, I can’t have this going to waste.”
“But today’s meeting is important!” You retort.
“I’ve got two hours, you’ll be more than filled up by then.”
© Intoxicated-Chan, I do not allow my work to be copy, translated, or put my work on any other platform without my permission.
#x reader#x female reader#fluff#spider man 2099#spider man x reader#spider man across the spider verse#spiderman 2099 x reader#spiderman x you#spiderverse#spider man x y/n#spider man x you#miguel o’hara#miguel o’hara x reader#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel o'hara#spider man smut#spider man#smut#spiderman x y/n#spiderman 2099
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NOW PLAYING ... NOBODY KNOWS ft. spider-women!ellie x reader
“…BUT NOBODY KNOWS MY LITTLE SECRET.”
(⭑) summary: r/reddit, when’s the best time to tell your girlfriend of three months, (who you are so desperately in love with) you are that "crazy" vigilante on the news, fighting crime in a spider-suit, and that you now shoot fucking webs out of your wrist.
(⭑) content: wc 1.2k+ nerd!ellie. confessions. making out. comfort. spider-man!ellie. established relationship. suggestive. insecure!ellie. HEAVILY inspired from the roof-top scene in tasm bcs im obsessed. cursing.
you guys find yourself on the roof-top of dina’s-friend’s apartment, for a random party, celebrating god-knows what. it's slightly chilly, you stand next to ellie with her oversized jacket on you; despite ellie telling you numerous times it was going to be cold, she was not one to refuse you.
ellie wished she had her camera right now; outside’s a pretty scene with the many buildings scattered, the sky, gradually transitioning into yellow and pink hues, night unfolding, and you, looked so pretty by her side.
the city below though remains bustling with constant movement, and ellie's mind is no different. because today was going to be the day —
ellie’s hazel-green eyes shift towards you, observing your soft expression, her heart ached with uncertainty as she wondered if you would hate her — hate her for lying, hate her for not being normal, hate her for having so much baggage. hate her for being spider-women.
“you think dina and jesse are shagging?” you ask, randomly, breaking the comfortable silence. your hands moves to the railing, casually pushing yourself backwards on it.
“saw dina sneakin’ out at 1 am, like she was a teenager. so, yeah, definitely.”
also due to ellie’s super-senses, she had heard so many “private,” conversations with him and dina she wished to unhear.
you nod your head, turning your attention towards ellie. “so, why do you seem so te—”
“i need to say something,”
you guys both interrupt each other, it elicits a small giggle from you. “okay... is this about before? is that the reason you’ve been so pissy tonight?”
you were hinting about earlier. when someone had hit on you, even with you being on ellie's lap, her arms even wrapped at your waist. it irritated the hell out of ellie, leaving her to characteristically run her mouth at em'.
you almost had to drag her away to stop the growing commotion.
ellie sports a slight pout at her pink-lips. “it’s not my fault men can’t get fucking context clues, it’s a wonder they survive. and i haven’t been “pissy” i—” you raise your eyebrows in response, conveying a silent ‘you sure?’ ellie stops talking, only rolling her eyes.
“okay, whatever, maybe i was but, it's not about that,” ellie wasn’t sure how to start this conversation without sounding crazy or scaring you.
“...i was bitten,” ellie says, bushy brows slightly furrowing.
your head tilts, “that’s a little ominous.” ellie rethinks; maybe that wasn’t a good way to start.
“nevermind. you know, when i was sick. that whole two weeks, couple months back.” you nod your head, “yeah, you said you were sick. projectile vomit and shit. couldn’t lift a finger because it was so bad.” damn, ellie forgot she said all that.
“yeah, um sorry. i lied about that.” before you could say anything, lips pulled into a frown, ellie blurts: “i’m spider-man,” finally with a breath. you’re staring at her, but she can’t decipher your expression. unconsciously, ellie bites at her bottom lip.
silence fills the moment, and ellie finds it unbearable; suddenly, in just a second, your face relaxes. “oh, wait. you’re fucking with me. els thought you were serious for a second.”
ellie was regretting playing pranks on you so much, “i’m not fucking with you,” ellie’s arm cross, unconsciously flexing in the process, but you only a grow smile on your lips, like this was some ongoing joke. “jesus, stop smiling — it’s not a joke y/n,”
“i’ve known you all my life ellie — i think i would know if you were fighting crimes with iron-man,” you ignore her, releasing the bar. “wait just w—”
“lets go els, please. it’s getting cold and i’m tired,” you say, making your move toward the door; but in a quick reaction, ellie’s translucent webs shoots out her wrist, spinning you around til’ you're close, her hands, now holding at your waist.
you’re staring at her, eyes widened comically, and your mouth parted, seemingly trying to process what just happened. ellie's attention was drawn to something else though; light in the distance, drunken footsteps heading their way.
“you just fucking — shot webs out your hands, ellie! you’re sp—”
ellie didn’t have much time to think it through, because as soon as the drunkards stumble in, ellie's lips, soft and sweet, press into yours. “..shh,” ellie whispers, faint to your lips — trying to calm you down.
a small gasp leaves your mouth. but after a second, hearing the commotion behind you; you get the message, relaxing yourself into the kiss.
ellie's kisses are usually greedy, but tender, her hands would rummage your body confidently, possessively pulling you in. but this kiss, its … different. it’s tentative, hesitant, like she was afraid to push.
at that, you try to make her feel comfortable with a subtle touch beneath her loose black-shirt. your lips, coated in strawberry gloss, glides seamlessly over hers, giving her a little push; and it works.
ellie tongue pushes in hastily, its smooth tracing from your lips to your tongue. her moppy-brown hair tickling your chin as she eases in the kiss, embracing the subtle buzzing in her chest.
you hear the people leave, and it’s silent now, besides the busy cars. “ellie… t–”
“one more second,” she grumbles, you wanted to keep going, but you still had a lot to say — questions cycling. so you pull away, with a gentle smack of the lips.
she lets out a small groan in response; her cheeks dusted in pink and round eyes flutter open, looking at you in a wistful gaze.
“so… you’re spider-man. well, spider-woman,” you finally say, exhaling. ellie’s eyes shift to the floor. her hands drop from you, and instead, runs through her hair anxiously. “yeah. i know it’s fucked up, and weird. i should’ve told you, warned you, but i—”
you interrupt her depressive rambles, “no, ellie i mean it’s cool, you’re cool. it’s just, fuck.” you take a breath, throwing your hands up. “i was just surprised because you’re, like, nerdy and cute, and then … spiderman, you know?”
ellie’s eyes lifted to meet yours, “relieved” couldn’t fully capture how she felt, but all she could managed to say was: “oh, okay. that’s great, yeah.”
a silence falls between you two in response to ellie’s awkwardness, exchanging glances; both of you burst into a fit of giggles.
“i feel like i should feel offended though, ‘nerdy?’” you playfully nudge at her feet, “you know what i mean. passionate about space, introverted, so obsessed with your grades. it’s like a text-book definition,” ellie couldn’t really deny that, so she just playful rolls her eyes instead.
“...but you know what’s crazy, i had a small tiny crush on spider–man, well you, before we officially dated.”
ellie’s lips curve into a smile, “so now you get the best of both worlds, huh.” ellie comes closer to you, hands finding their place to your body. "i bet you dreamed of both of us fighting over you, hm?”
in the quietness that follows, your eyes drift away from ellie, intentionally avoiding her gaze. ellie could tell there was more story to your silence, “wait — did you have a wet dream about spider-man and m—” she begins, but you swiftly cover her mouth.
“...shut it,” you say beyond flustered, which only intensifies ellie's curiosity.
#ellie williams x reader#ellie williams#ellie williams x you#ellie williams x female reader#ellie williams x y/n#tlou#ellie x reader#tlou x reader#ellie williams x poc reader#ellie williams fluff#ellie x fem reader#ellie williams tlou
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Lavender Haze
Oscar Piastri x insomniac!reader
Masterlist / Tangerine Pt 1 / Pt 1.5 / Pt 2
Summary: Oscar can’t sleep. The two of you try to find a solution. // A continuation of Tangerine
Word Count: 4.7k
a/n: well. I wrote smut. I reserve the right to delete this later if I decide it’s bad. but here you go! more tangerine verse!
Warnings: insomnia, sexual content (smut)
18+! minors do not interact! thank you
It’s a Tuesday, and Oscar hasn’t slept in nearly 48 hours. You know this because you’ve been with him for most of those 48 hours, and you also haven’t slept. That’s not that abnormal for you, but you’re unsure of how Oscar’s functioning.
He’s just finished up a meeting, and you’re wrapping up the last of your duties for the day. There’s a knock on your office door, and Lando pokes his head in with a worried look on his face.
“Hi,” he says. “Cute office. Um. I think maybe Oscar could use a ride home.”
“I’m fine,” your boyfriend calls from the hallway,
You raise your brows. Lando sighs and kicks the door open all the way. Oscar is standing behind him, leaning against the wall. His hair is fluffy and disheveled. His hands are tucked into the sleeves of his hoodie. There are dark circles under his eyes. You wince.
“Thanks, babe,” Oscar says in response to the look on your face.
“Mate, you haven’t slept in two days, of course you look like shit,” Lando teases.
“You don’t look like shit,” you say, and Oscar forces a smile. “You just look exhausted.”
He was supposed to sleep on the flight back from Brazil to England. You’d stayed awake on the plane, unable to get your brain to shut off. Between the crazy schedule of the triple header, the changes in time zones, and his overall stress, Oscar had the same problem. Then, when the two of you got to his apartment, it had been impossible for him to sleep. His internal clock is all fucked up.
“I am exhausted,” he admits, rubbing at his eyes blearily. “Dunno how you do this all the time.”
He walks into your office, eyes darting around to all the corners. There are plants on the windowsill, a photo of you and Oscar in Tokyo pinned up on the corkboard. He smiles as he sits down in the chair across from your desk. Then he reaches and grabs the unopened Red Bull off your desk.
“Osc,” you scold, as Lando makes a noise of horror. “That’s the last thing you need right now.”
“I feel like a zombie,” he says.
“Right, and zombies can’t drive, so,” Lando says, pulling a set of keys from his pocket.
Oscar’s keys. You know Lando’s right when he hands them to you over Oscar’s head, and Oscar tries to grab them, but he’s about ten seconds behind. It’s like his brain is buffering with an insane amount of lag. Your heart aches for him.
“Okay,” you say, closing the laptop. “I think Lando’s right. I think we should get you home.”
“I’m fine,” he says, again.
He goes to say something else but gets caught up in a yawn. You reach out and take the Red Bull from his hand. He sighs. You turn to Lando.
“I’ve got him,” you tell his teammate.
“Thanks,” Lando says, and then he disappears into the hallway.
You lead Oscar out of the office shortly after that. He asks to make a stop in the break room for coffee, and you refuse. At work, the two of you are pretty hands off with each other, trying to keep things professional. But this time you grab his wrist lightly and lead him out to the parking lot. You decide to take your car and leave his here- there’s no way you trust yourself driving his car.
Oscar is quiet on the way to his apartment. He sits in the passenger seat- an odd occurrence for him. He takes your free hand in his and knits your fingers together. You brush your thumb over his skin soothingly. Normally he’d be mentioning things on the road, or pestering you about your driving, but he doesn’t. You’re a bit worried, really.
You don’t push him on it until you’re in the elevator up to his place. “You’re quiet. You okay?”
He frowns. “I’m just… this is what you feel like. Constantly.”
You sigh, your shoulders dropping. He squeezes your hand. You nudge your shoulder against his.
“Not always,” you remind him. “I slept really well for a couple weeks there. And Friday night.”
“I was really hoping that sound machine would work,” he says with a huff.
“I know,” you murmur.
The elevator doors open for his floor, and he follows you to his flat and into the entryway. If you didn’t already know, you’d be able to tell how tired he is from the way he leaves his things haphazardly in the hallway. He kicks off his shoes in front of the door, drops his backpack on the floor next to them, and tosses his jacket further down the hall. When you turn and give him a look, eyebrows raised, he covers a yawn with his hand.
“You should eat dinner,” you suggest. You reach to brush your thumb against his flushed cheek. “Why don’t you hop in the shower and I’ll start making us something.”
Oscar sighs, takes a couple unsteady steps towards you. He holds his arms out as he leans, trusting you to catch him. You do, your accompanying laugh muffled into his shoulder. He wraps his arms around you and lets out a long groan.
“Or we could just go to bed,” he says, voice scratchy.
“No, you need dinner,” you insist. “And a shower.”
“What, do I stink?”
“No comment.”
Oscar laughs and pulls away. He holds you at arm’s length. “Okay. Shower, dinner, bed?”
You nod.
“What are the chances tonight?” He asks.
You sigh and shrug. “Maybe a 7?”
“Not bad,” he says. “We can work with 7.”
He’d started asking you that question shortly after you first made it official. What are the chances you can fall asleep tonight? Higher numbers are better. A one means an all nighter, likely too wound up to even sit in bed with him. A 5 means you might doze on and off, likely after he’s already fallen asleep. A ten is laying down and passing out when your head hits the pillow. None of the nights so far have been a ten.
He wanders off to go take a shower, and you head to the kitchen to raid the cupboards. You still have your own apartment, but when Oscar’s here, you stay with him pretty often. You go to the races, but often fly out on different days than him due to promo events, so the two of you take your time together when you can get it.
Luckily, he’s had groceries delivered, so there’s plenty for you to work with. You cook some pasta and heat up some garlic bread, knowing if you get him to eat anything it’ll have to be quick. Plus, warm and comforting will be good, too. You hear the shower shut off just as you’re draining the pasta. You have it all plated by the time he makes it out to the kitchen, wearing a loose pair of sweatpants and a hoodie.
He walks over and steps up behind you. He wraps his arms around your waist and presses his face to your shoulder blade, letting out a deep sigh. You laugh and reach behind you, running your fingers through his damp hair. He makes a soft, satisfied little noise.
“Food, then sleep,” you promise.
He nods and pulls away, taking the plates to the table with him. The two of you eat quietly, his foot bumping against yours. He sits with his cheek resting on his fist, slouched over the table.
“Thanks for dinner,” he mumbles. “Didn’t realize how hungry I was.”
You laugh and nudge him lightly with your elbow. “I know.”
After dinner, he convinces you to leave the dishes for tomorrow. He takes you by the hand and drags you to the bathroom, where you brush your teeth together. You do your skincare routines together, and then he drags you to bed. You change into pajamas while he lays down, already burying himself beneath the covers.
You fall into your normal routine. You sit down with a book and a little reading lamp, turning off the overhead lights and the lamp next to the bed. You lean against the headboard while he lays down, his head on the pillow, one arm wrapped around your thigh. You run your fingers through his hair absentmindedly as you read, waiting for him to fall asleep, waiting for yourself to feel drowsy.
Neither of those things happen.
You look down after two chapters. Usually Oscar’s fast asleep by now. His eyes are closed, but he keeps shifting, and his fingers are drawing patterns on the bare skin of your thigh. You brush your thumb against his cheek, and he groans.
“Can’t sleep,” he says, opening his eyes and looking up at you.
You pout down at him. “D’you want me to turn the light off? I can go in the living room if you think that’d help.”
“No, the last thing I need is for you to not be here,” he says. “Just can’t get my brain to slow down.”
You hum, frowning deeper. You pinch his cheek lightly, then smooth your thumb over the spot. He crawls closer, nudging his head against your hip and letting out a deep sigh. Then he unwinds his arms from around your leg and stretches.
“It’s no use” he says, rubbing his face harshly. “I’ve developed insomnia by osmosis.”
You laugh, rubbing his back lightly. His cheek is squished against your leg, one eye closed. The other one is staring at you. You run your fingers through the hair on the back of his head and sigh.
“I don’t think that’s how it works, babe,” you say. “Come on, there’s gotta be something that’ll help. Let’s run through all the remedies, yeah?”
You drag him back out to the kitchen and start with chamomile tea. You turn on some calming music in the background, like a lullaby but for a grown man. He drinks the tea on the couch, and you sit next to him, running your fingers through his hair. It’s the best way you know to calm him. His eyelids don’t seem to grow heavy, though, so after a while you move on to the next one- warm milk and honey.
“If it’s all drinks I’m just gonna have to pee,” he says grumpily.
He’s leaning on your shoulder in the kitchen, like he can’t hold himself up. You know the feeling- your body gets heavy and tired but your mind doesn’t. So you hold onto him and will the milk to work. Of course, it doesn’t, and then you’re back to square one.
You find some lavender essential oils, buried in the bottom of your work bag. One of the reasons you hesitate to admit you have insomnia, to even call it that, is because of things like this. Everyone tries to offer you their foolproof home remedy, like you haven’t already tried all of them. But Oscar doesn’t have full fledged, capital I Insomnia, he’s just got a messed up sleep schedule, so maybe it’ll help. You tug the neck of his shirt down to rub it on his chest, and then you add some to his wrists too.
“Smells nice,” he says, softly. He blinks. “There’s lavender in your shampoo, isn’t there? Smells familiar.”
You blink right back at him. “Yeah. There is.”
It shouldn't be surprising that he recognizes the smell of your shampoo, but somehow it is. It’s endearing, sweet to think about.
The lavender doesn’t seem to help, so you move on. He’s already tried a warm shower, so that’s checked off the list, and he’s eaten warm food too. You pull him back to the bedroom and direct him back onto the bed. He lays on his stomach, which is what you were going to have him do anyways, but you make a little noise and tell him to sit up. You sit down on the bed next to him and shove at his hoodie.
“How about a massage?” You suggest.
It doesn’t take him long to take his shirt off after that suggestion. Oscar has Kim to help him stretch and loosen up during the race weekends, so you’ve never really suggested this. You wonder why you haven’t as he lays down and sighs happily. His toned back is spread out on the bed in front of you, the tan line painting a stark difference on his skin. You want to trace the outline of every muscle, but you refrain, even as he puts his hands above his head and you watch the way his arms flex. You grab some lotion, throw your leg over his hip so you’re straddling his upper thighs, and get to work.
You’re happy to have the chance to drag your hands along every inch of his skin, and it does seem to be working. That is, if the soft sighs and groans he’s letting out mean anything, or the way he begins to melt into the bed. You rub his shoulders and see the tension drain from his upper body. You press your hands into his lower spine and feel his muscles soften underneath your hands. His breaths even out and slow down.
You lean over and press a kiss to the back of his neck and whisper, “s’it working?”
He sighs, and when he speaks his voice is low and raspy. “It’s not not working, but…”
You frown. “But?”
He pulls one hand down from over his head and reaches for your hand. He tilts his hips up and brings your hand down to press against his bulge, and you gasp. He’s hard, probably almost uncomfortably so. You cup him in your hand and listen to the strained sigh he lets out.
“I was trying not to,” he says, “because I was actually starting to get sleepy. But your hands feel so nice, and I could feel you moving, and-“ you interrupt him with a soft squeeze of your hand, and he groans loudly. “Fuck, baby.”
“I can help with that, you know,” you say, pressing a kiss to his temple. “I’d be happy to. Thrilled, even. Who knows, maybe it’ll help you sleep.”
He muffles his laugh into the pillow underneath his head. When you tug at his sweatpants and slip your hand past the waistband, he groans out a “Please?”
He rolls over under you when you tell him to. You settle yourself back on his upper thighs, letting your eyes roam over his exposed chest. His eyes are half lidded- from drowsiness or arousal, you’re not sure. You run your hands up his sides smoothly. He lets out a whine.
“Please,” he sighs again.
“What do you want, baby?” You ask, pressing your thumbs into the jut of his hips.
He sighs and snuggles down into the bed. He’s laying on top of the fluffy down comforter, and he seems to sink into it. He blinks up at you and props his arm behind his head.
“I want you to be wearing less clothes,” he says, voice heavy with exhaustion. “And then I want you to ride me.”
Heat rolls down your spine. There’s something about sleepy Oscar that makes him loose lipped and eager to tell you exactly what it is he wants. You grin down at him as you fiddle with the hem of your t-shirt.
“Please,” he says again. His brows furrow into a tiny v, and his face looks strained.
You start to tug his shorts down. He sighs happily, props the other arm behind his head, too. He’s already leaking precum when he finally slips free of the confines of his clothing. You reach out, run a light fingertip up the hard line of him. He shudders underneath your touch. You lean down to press a kiss to the tip, and he yelps.
“M’not gonna last,” he says, voice already raw. “Just want you.”
It doesn’t take long, then, for you to do as he asked- lose your clothes and get on top of him. He reaches down when you straddle his waist and slips his hand between your legs, groaning when he feels how wet you are. Normally, he’d insist on giving you at least one orgasm before he even thought about getting to this point, but you know he’s exhausted and you’re aching for him already. You take his cock in your hand and guide it to your center, and his breath catches in his chest when you start to sink down on him.
You know almost immediately he’s right- he won’t last. You can feel him twitch as he bottoms out, and you watch the way his abs clench beneath you. You let out a soft moan at the feeling. His eyes are screwed shut, mouth dropped open. You could stay right here and stare at him for ages.
“Fuck, baby,” he gasps, already panting. “So good.”
When you start to move your hips, he starts to fall apart. His hands fall to hold onto your waist, thumbs pressing into your rib cage. You draw moans and groans out of him,echo them back to him, and practically drool at the way he arches his back and neck and rolls his head against the pillow. Everything feels so intense, like it’s all turned up a notch. You think he’s feeling it too. It’s the lack of sleep, you think, absently. You should pull all nighters together more often. You’ll tell him later.
Right now, you lean over to kiss him. His tongue is in your mouth almost immediately, messy and uncoordinated but hot nonetheless. You have your hands planted on either side of his head, and he starts to meet your hips with thrusts of his own. His hand slips between your legs again, thumb pressing at your clit, and you know you’re a goner. From the way he’s squirming underneath you, he is too.
You fall apart on top of him, your orgasm washing over you in sweet, warm waves, and you collapse into his chest when you feel him follow closely behind you, his hips bucking up against yours. He wraps his arms around you and holds you close. You rest your head on his heaving chest and breathe him in.
Minutes later, when you try to pull away, he wraps his arms tighter and groans. You laugh.
“Osc, I can’t stay here forever, I’m not that flexible,” you mumble. “And we should get cleaned up.”
He lets go, albeit reluctantly. When you pull away and off of him, he lets out a soft whine. You head to the bathroom, clean yourself up quickly and head back to the bedroom with a washcloth.
He’s laid out on the bed, eyes closed. “M’not asleep yet,” he mumbles. “But almost.”
You’re gentle when you clean him up, even more gentle when you tug the blankets out from under him so you can tuck both of you in. You decide clothes can be forgotten about, and you press yourself against his side. He sighs happily, wraps his arm around you, and promptly falls asleep. For once, in a strange turn of events, you follow behind him without much of a delay.
You wake up the next day in the early afternoon. You’re thankful today is a day off, meant to be a break from the insane schedule you’ve held for the last three weeks. Oscar’s off too, so even though you’re awake, you snuggle closer to him and close your eyes while you wait for him to wake up. You drift in and out of sleep, drowsy half dreams dancing behind your eyelids. It’s the kind of sleep you normally hate, but after sleeping for nearly eleven hours the night before, it’s alright.
Finally, you feel Oscar start to stir, and you know he’s fully woken up when his hand slides down your bare side, his palm landing on your hip. He sighs happily and squeezes at your skin.
“We should sleep like this more often,” he says cheekily, voice still rough with sleep.
You laugh, turning your head to look at him. His eyes are still closed. “You wanted to fall asleep inside me last night,” you say teasingly. “This seemed mild in comparison.”
“Yeah, we should revisit that sometime,” he says, pinching your hip just to hear you let out a squeak. Then he rolls towards you and wraps you up in his arms. “Good morning, love.”
“Afternoon, actually,” you mutter against his skin.
“Yeah, yeah, we needed it,” he says. “Did you sleep?”
You nod. “Passed out right after you, woke up just a little while ago.”
“Wow,” he says, in that signature tone of his. “Impressive.”
The two of you crawl out of bed eventually, heading for the shower together. He’d suggested it once in a hotel room to save time, insisting that you could both stay in bed longer if you consolidated and showered together. You’d nearly been late, but it’s become a habit since. He helps you rinse the conditioner from your hair, and you do the same for him. When you get out and wrap yourselves up in towels, he presses his nose to your hair and breathes in.
“No wonder I sleep so well when you’re here,” he says. “You’re a walking sleep remedy.”
“The lavender didn’t work on you,” you remind him.
He shrugs, dragging a towel through his wet hair. “Maybe it’s just you, then.”
You spend what’s left of the day with him, having a late lunch and then heading off for a walk in a nearby park. It’s chilly, but not unbearably so, and he holds your hand the whole way. As the sun begins to set, you head home, have a light dinner, and settle in to watch a movie. Before it’s even a quarter of the way done, Oscar starts to yawn. By the halfway point, he’s nodding off, his head on your shoulder.
You pause it. “Osc, babe, time for bed, yeah?”
He nods sleepily and curls further into you. You’re amazed by it, honestly. You don’t understand how he can be this tired already. You drag him off the couch and to the bathroom, where you both brush your teeth. Then he takes your hand and pulls you to the bed.
You know before you even lay down that you won’t be able to sleep. But you humor him anyways, because you know he falls asleep easier when you’re there. You curl up in bed with him, careful not to tangle yourself up in his limbs too much. It’ll make it easier to slip away when he falls asleep. He closes his eyes, and you run your hands through his hair and watch him fall asleep.
This is the kind of nice thing about having insomnia- you get a free pass on watching your boyfriend sleep. There’s something so endearing about it- the way any of his stress melts from his face, the soft rise and fall of his chest. His cheeks are slightly flushed, and you pull the blankets back just a little, sensing he must be warm. His hair is getting long, and it’s begun to fall in his face, so you smooth it off his forehead.
You do try to go to sleep, laying there with your eyes closed, counting sheep. But it doesn’t work, and you get antsy, your whole body buzzing with energy. So you slip out of bed as quietly as you can, leaving him behind with a soft kiss to his forehead. It almost makes you feel guilty, even though you know he understands.
You close the bedroom door and head for the living room. You put the tv on, leaving the volume low. You have specific shows that you watch when you can’t sleep. It’s not that they help, but more so that you’re watching other shows with Oscar, and you don’t want to watch without him.
You half watch the tv and half scroll on your phone. You have to be careful when you’re up this late with nothing to do- social media sucks you in, and it can be a dark spiral. You and Oscar aren’t public, in the sense that the public hasn’t figured out who you are. But they have seen pictures of Oscar with a mystery girl, and they don’t seem to like you very much. You avoid twitter at all costs.
Eventually, you get bored with your phone and reach for your book. You turn on the little lamp on the side table and start to read. Around 1am, the words begin to blur on the page. You close your eyes for just a moment, wondering if you might be able to fall asleep, telling yourself if you start to feel drowsy you’ll go back to bed. But as soon as your eyes are closed, your thoughts begin to race. You sigh and head for the kitchen.
In Oscar’s fridge, there’s a supply of tangerine Red Bulls. You’re pretty sure he got them for free, because they have Max and Checo’s faces all over them, but you’re not going to complain about it. You reach for a can and spin it in your hands, looking for the permanent marker.
Oscar understands the whole energy drink thing a bit more now, but he still worries. He’s taken to leaving you notes on the cans, because he knows you’re often reaching for them in the dead of night, when he’s asleep and unable to help quiet your mind. This one says: U SO PRETTY <3 in messy scrawl. You think Lando’s been helping him come up with them. Or Logan. You’re not sure. You smile, snap a quick picture of it, and head back to the couch. Then you settle back in for more reading.
At 2:13 am, you hear a noise from the hallway. Oscar appears in the doorway to the living room a few moments later, rubbing at his eye socket with his knuckles. His hair is in a state of complete disarray, one of the ankles of his sweatpants hiked up much farther on his calf than the other. He covers a yawn with his other hand.
“Hi, sleepyhead,” you say, softly. “It’s the middle of the night, what’re you doing up?”
He shrugs as he stumbles his way to the couch. “Woke up. Reached for you. Went, huh, not here. Came to find you.”
You laugh at his stilted sentences, and the sleep still coating his voice. He grimaces when he spots the can of Red Bull, but doesn’t say a word. Instead, he collapses onto the couch, and in the process, onto you. He lays his head on your chest and wraps his arms around you, sighing happily.
“Better,” he says. “Can I stay for a little bit?”
You laugh and kiss the top of his head. “You can stay as long as you want.”
“Mm. How ‘bout forever?” He mumbles. Before you can reply, he speaks up again. “Will you read to me?”
“Yeah,” you answer, unable to wipe the silly grin off your face. “We can go to bed if you want. Just didn’t want to wake you up.”
He shakes his head and burrows closer. “S’okay. M’comfy here. And this way you have the TV.”
So you pull a blanket off the back of the couch, lay it over him, and wrap one arm around him. You try not to think too hard about the way he meets you halfway without you ever having to ask. You open the book with one hand and trace patterns on his back with the other. You read out loud, listening to the little laughs he lets out at the dialogue.
He falls asleep before you’re through a single chapter. When you realize he’s dozed off, you lay the book on his back and listen to the soft sounds of his breathing, feel the weight of him against you and the soft puffs of air that slip over his lips. You trace the shell of his ear, the line of his jaw. You close your eyes, knowing that between the insomnia and the caffeine, you probably won’t fall asleep. But for once, your mind doesn’t begin to race. You just bask in the warmth of him, and the comfort of knowing that even in the dead of night, you’re not alone.
a/n: thanks for reading! I missed tangerine!oscar tbh
taglist : @4-mula1 @celestialams @struggling-with-delia @lovekt @i-wish-this-was-me @forzalando @iloveyou3000morgan @ggaslyp1
#oscar piastri oneshot#oscar piastri x you#oscar piastri fanfic#oscar piastri x reader#formula 1 x reader#formula one oneshot#formula one x reader#formula one x you#formula 1 fluff#oscar piastri fluff#f1 fanfic#x reader#f1 x reader#Oscar piastri smut#formula one smut#f1 smut#tangerine!verse
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Cherry popper // nerd Matt p.2
Warnings: heavy smut / mommy!kink (duh) / doggy style / glasses kink / praise kink / sub!matt x dom reader / back shot / degradation kink… kinda / masturbation / hair pulling
Summary: you and Matt are trying to do one of your homework assignments, until Matt finds himself painfully distracted by thoughts of your body instead of thoughts of the equations on the sheets of paper in front of him.
Author’s notes: GUYS!! I am actually so insanely grateful for all of the love you have given me from the moment I started publishing on here. The fact that so many people have wanted a part 2 for this is unbelievable to me fr. Also the fact that the original has almost 1,000 notes is actually fucking insane wtf?? I always wake up everyday and smile at all of the lovely comments/requests people send to me and I couldn’t be happier that people enjoy my stuff, it just makes me motivated to write more hehe. But anyways, after a long and PAINFUL wait, finally, here is your part 2 of Cherry popper Matt <3
“You’ve got me nervous to speak… so I just won’t say anything at all” - Nervous, The Neighbourhood
‘Okay so what about the vector analysis in this problem? How do I solve it?’
You get no response in return.
‘Matt?’
You turn your head to look over at him from your position sat on the floor, a pencil twiddling in between your thumb and fore finger. The notepad open in front of you details Matt’s pen marks from where he had written out the equations of your assignment for you to solve before your tutor lesson this afternoon.
It has been a good deal of weeks since your first session, and each time Matt has come to your house you have taught him something new.
Fingering. Head. Mutual masturbation.
Last week you took his virginity. It was simple. Missionary. But ever since then something has changed within Matt. He’s gotten needier, more eager for you. A text message every hour or so, asking about your lessons. You never tell him what you’re planning though, you like to keep it a surprise for him.
Evidently though, the thought of what you do at the end of each one seems to distract him. It keeps him on the edge of his seat and fiddling about until he’s instructed to get on the bed. Which he does now with a fast pace and happy smiles on his lips each time. You really like Matt.
‘Matt? Are you even listening to me?’
He hums questioningly. ‘Oh uh yeah… sorry wha-what did you say?’. His eyes blink in confusion, as if every word of your voice had gone in one ear and out through the other.
You purse your lips, smiling cheekily at him and shaking your head. Matt catches on as soon as you give him a look that you know why he’s distracted, so his cheeks go pink and he shyly flits his eyes to the floor. You raise your eyebrows and he does a double take.
‘I’m sorry… I can’t help it…’ he peeps, before lifting one of his hands to shift them underneath his glasses. He rubs his eyes, as if embarrassed with himself, before dropping his hand back down and bravely glancing up at you. ‘Poor baby… Thinking about my body instead of my assignment. Matt you naughty boy…’ You tease, and Matt whines pitifully.
‘Don’t say that!’ He shakes his head, trying to act as if he feels physically repulsed by you calling him a naughty boy. But you know he loves it. Just last week he was thrusting his cock into you slickly, whining from above you to praise him and call him a good boy as he did so, his mouth hung open with pants and his hands greedily gripping your headboard to help his hips move. Just as you had instructed him to do.
‘Who’s going to help me finish it now?’ You feign sadness. Matt humphs. ‘I am… I’m sorry. Please I won’t get distracted again, please mommy I’ll help you!’ He begs worthlessly, sitting up from his position sprawled out on his side on your carpet. He leans himself up onto his hands and knees, now used to just calling you mommy like second nature. You didn’t even have to ask him.
‘But baby… you’re already hard. How could you possibly help me in that sort of state?’. Matt’s face falls into a frown and he squirms about uncomfortably, the obvious bulge in his jeans now the topic of conversation. ‘I- I can do it!’ He argues back, his voice wobbling but trying to be defiant.
‘No you can’t Matt.’ You patronise him in response, knowing that there is no way he’s going to be able to sit through any more of this tutor session without feeling uncomfortable and groaning lowly after every time the harsh seam of his jean’s zipper rubs against his sensitive cock. You know how prone to pleasure he is.
‘If we get rid of your problem will you promise to concentrate and help me afterwards puppy?’.
Sighing and getting up, your eyes keep trained on Matt whilst his head snaps up to now fully bask in your attention, the slightest mention of you touching his cock and him getting fed with more sexual pleasure rilling him up. You walk over slowly, before you stop right in front of him.
He finds it strange really, that now he gets more excited about your touch than teasing out a good math equation. He perks up with a curling smile on his face, his eyes dreamy and sparkling. Nodding his head as quickly as he can he bumbles an awkward ‘yes- yes of course… please’.
You smirk and tip your chin down at the way Matt lies on his knees before you. Reaching up one of your hands, you push it into his hair, combing it back and folding it into the rest of his crashing brown waves. He moans happily in content at the feeling of your nails scratching against his scalp, tipping his chin up and looking at you like a baby doe who’s just learnt to walk.
‘Well, you know what I’m gonna say then…’ you laugh through your smile at his inexperienced, soft nature. ‘Yes mommy…’ he obediently nods and coos up to you in a mumbled voice, before leaning up so that he can stand to his full height. He waddles with his padding feet over to your bed, a place where he’s now left a permanent imprint every Sunday, when only the two of you are in the house and left to your own devices.
‘Hmm… think it may be a little too early to use any of my…’. You struggle to find the words for all of the miscellaneous items hidden within your wardrobe. ‘…toys’. Matt sits on the bed and waits patiently for his next command whilst listening in to your debate between yourself. ‘And I’m not in the mood to do all of the work today… so seeing as you’re the one who interrupted our tutor session because you just couldn’t wait, then I suppose it should be you doing the work’.
Matt winces at your scolding nature, before shuffling up the mattress a little further. He smiles guiltily and nods. ‘I guess that’s only fair’. You hum, looking at Matt’s fluffed hair and the glasses that slide sweetly off of his nose. Every time he has to push them back up to the bridge of it in class you have to squeeze your thighs together, because you know how much of a little slut he really is. The glasses are just a front in your opinion, it doesn’t matter how innocent they make him look, he’s still always pussy drunk for you at the end of the day and it fills you with such power.
‘Why don’t we step it up from missionary a little then?’ You finally decide, crawling onto the bed yourself and slithering over to a Matt that gulps, his Adam’s apple bobbing and practically asking you to make a meal out of his exposed neck. He already has the sheets gripped within his fists, how adorable.
‘Step it up?’ He asks confusedly, his eyebrows furrowing. But you ignore him, and instead swing your legs so that you can straddle his lap, his stiff cock already pressing thickly up into your clothed core. You clutch his jaw and tilt his neck upwards, his breathing thick and laboured with anticipation.
‘Kisses for mommy?’ You mumble and tilt your head with a questioning sensuality that almost has Matt drooling within a trance. He nods, his eyes looking a little spaced out but your lips soon coming to mesh together. It reminds you of the first time you both made out, and similarly, you slowly begin to rock your hips. He pants at the friction, and knuckles tentatively at the bottom of your t-shirt.
‘I like mommy kisses…’ he mumbles delicately in between the brush of your lips, his tongue feathering out to lick into your mouth as you continuously comb back his hair, gripping and pulling on it playfully. You break away from him to rub your thumb against his cheek. He looks up at you and blinks, his mouth dropped and his lips juicy like swollen cherries after being sucked on.
‘More please’ he whimpers, and lurches forward to reconnect your lips. At this point, you decide to lean forward, making Matt’s back fall onto the mattress.
Lying all of your weight on top of him, he sneaks his hands down to squeeze around your hipbones, his fingers nervously travelling to your ass next so that he can keep you grinding above him as you kiss. But you open your eyes through the kiss when feeling the sensation of his digits.
‘Did I say you could touch that puppy?’ You chide him, and Matt’s hands freeze their descent. He snaps his eyes open and pulls himself away with a pout, your breaths mingling and your noses almost brushing.
He looks as if he’s about to cry at getting into trouble, and swallows thickly before feeding his bottom lip into his bitten teeth. He tries to embarrassedly suppress a moan, thinking that it’s not the right time to release one at the rub of your cunt against him. You smirk when his back arches in helplessness, his cheeks red as he stutters ‘sorry… I didn’t mean to… I couldn’t help it’.
Shaking your head in amusement, you listen to the way his breath hitches when you slip your hands up his shirt, tickling your cold fingertips up his stomach so that you can circulate his sensitive nipples.
‘That’s okay baby boy, I know you’re frustrated. Shall we get these clothes off?’ Matt nods frantically, tipping his head back and squeezing his eyes closed whilst he focusses on his breathing.
Both of your clothes come off at lighting pace, Matt practically ripping to get to the supple skin of your body. After he does, his hands are babyishly squeezing anywhere, himself now comfortable enough in his sexual ability to be brave. Both of you lie sprawled out majestically on your bed, groping at each other like feverish teenagers in heat whilst the exchange of tongues between the two of you is messy and sloppy.
Matt cannot get enough of kissing you, he throbs at the feeling of your tongue twisting with his, his naked lower half now grinding subconsciously into your bedcovers. You slap his arm at this though and he hissed slightly, pulling away and looking at you offensively.
‘Puppy don’t do that, you’ll make a mess of my sheets with how much you’re leaking’. He looks down shamefully, whining because he knows he can’t help it. ‘M’sorry! I just really need you- I-‘ he starts to apologise but you shush him quietly by pressing your pointer finger into his lips. ‘I know you do baby boy… I want you to do some revision first though’.
He blinks and nods hesitantly, yourself shuffling up to the end of the bed so that you can spread your legs in front of him, still only in your underwear. After teasing him out of all of his clothes and leaving him feeling vulnerable and bare, you had decided to keep your panties on. It drives him insane when you do that, to know that he is in more of a submissive position than you.
‘How wet do you think you can get me baby?’ You drawl, and watch as Matt’s shoulders heave after crawling up to you with his cock red and stiff. ‘Dripping?’ You add on, and Matt nods his head confidently.
He reaches out his knuckles to graze them gently against your clothed heat and you hiss at the faintest of his caresses. ‘I’d do anything to get you off…’ he breathes, before pressing his thumb into your clit, rubbing it like how you showed him. Your breath hitches as you feel your centre pool hungrily, you folds dampening and getting hotter the more pressure he adds.
Your back arches. How could someone look so innocent and naive whilst performing something so unholy?
‘Can I- can I see your tits please mommy?’ Matt shyly asks whilst playing with your clit over your clothed sensitivity. You nod. ‘Of course you can sweet boy. Well done for asking so nicely baby’. Matt smiles in achievement at this, loving the praise freely gifted to him for the most simplest of tasks.
He struggles to not moan at the sight of you unclipping your lacy set to let your tits rest on your chest freely, your nipples hardened and mouthwatering. You watch the way his eyes hypnotically flick from one to the other and you smirk. ‘Like that baby? You wanna make me feel good now? Make mommy happy?’.
He lurches forward to kiss you once again, dipping his tongue leisurely into your mouth to taste you as he pleasures your clit with the pad of his finger. This makes your legs spread even further.
‘Please- I’m ready to make you feel full now’ he eagerly states through a bite of your lips, and you hum in satisfaction. ‘It’s time for your next lesson then’. You press your hands onto Matt’s pecs and push his mouth away from yours so that you can fully look him in the eyes. ‘Ever thought about doggy style before?’.
Matt furrows his eyes in confusion. ‘Well um… no, not really’.
‘Well that’s what we’re doing today, let’s get you on top of me, real nice and easy’.
You push him backwards and he falls onto his behind. You then swing forwards and spit directly onto his cock. He lets out a strangled pant at this and watches as you wrap your hand around the very base of his throbbing prick. ‘F-fuck’ his voice rags out and he closes his eyes with his head rolling back.
‘I’m going to get on my hands and knees, and then you’re going to come up behind me alright?’ You start to instruct him whilst pumping him slowly. He finds it difficult to focus at times because your hand feels so good, but he gets the rough picture of what you want him to do in his head.
‘O-okay’ he whimpers. You stop touching him and then crawl onto your hands and knees in front of him. ‘Go and take off my panties then puppy’ you tease him, making fun of the way he’s so hesitant to do anything. You then feel Matt’s fingers hook into the waistband of your panties and he timidly slides them from off of the curves of your asscheeks. They fall to the mattress around your knees and you clench when you feel the weight of Matt behind you.
The bedsheets crinkle underneath his knees and his warm stomach soon presses against your back. You feel his chest up your spine as he lies over you whilst his bigger hands come to splay down at the outer edges of yours. You look at his popping veins and tendons hungrily before taking in a shaky breath. It’s nice to ache at the feeling of his dominant position, because his heavy masculine difference makes you so fucking horny.
‘Good boy.’
You feel Matt’s stomach clench in approval at the nickname. ‘What now?’ He questions innocently, and you have to smirk once again at just how adorably clueless he is. ‘Now, you fuck me.’ You bluntly muse. Matt falters for a second. ‘Oh right-’ he laughs nervously.
‘Go on baby boy, give me your cock’ you encourage him. At this sudden permission, Matt thrusts his hips forward. You feel him shuffle around before his throbbing tip is pressed into your slickness. He moans throatily after pushing up into you, stretching you out and stuffing your walls full of him. Your breaths are equally as laboured when you feel him throbbing into you, his shaky torso wobbling and trying to keep himself steady above you.
‘That’s it baby’ you coo.
He starts to fuck his hips into you at a slowed and lazy pace. You feel his hot breaths on the shell of your ear as he pants, the bed squeaking below you two erotically at the motion of your bodies.
‘A-am I doing a good job mommy?’ He peeps, wanting to eke out as much praise from you as he possibly can. ‘Yes. Very very good Matt, well done’ you respond back, almost choking on your breath from how good it feels. You feel him right in your gut, just the perfect sort of length to drive you fucking insane.
He whines petulantly.
‘Please! Please call me a good boy, please, m’desperate’. Your legs spread further to let him in more whilst his hips slap against your ass roughly. Your stomach clenches as you groan slightly when his prick presses into exactly the right spot. With your elbows buckling, your head falls into the mattress, Matt keeping a hold of you by possessively grappling onto your waist with his calloused hands.
‘You are a good boy Matt… treating me so well, treating me like a fucking princess’. He smiles happily through his aggressive whimpers, speeding up his hips. ‘Touch my clit baby… I want my orgasm’ you then demand, stabilising yourself onto just one of your elbows so that your other hand can reach back to grab his and pull it forward.
You slip his fingers in between your dripping folds and begin to help him circulate your clit before you deem him competent enough to do it himself.
‘Ugh my glasses…’ Matt moans ‘they’re- they’re gonna fall off’. His glasses slip down his nose and then off the hooks of his ears. His rosy cheeks blush when they patter to the mattress right in front of both of your hands. He feels embarrassed that he’d railed you into the bed so hard that his glasses had fallen off, but you only grinned at this.
Snatching up the glasses yourself, you do exactly the thing that you know will drive Matt crazy. You slip them onto your own nose and push them up to the bridge.
At this, Matt throbs and your walls suck around him. Your orgasm comes so fast after this that you barely have any time to think about announcing it.
You press your face into the mattress and moan as Matt helps you ride your waves of pleasure out, your thighs quivering and your mouth hung wide open. ‘Can I cum inside of you please mommy?! Y’feel- you feel so fucking good’.
But you don’t let him. Instead, you shake your head and move forwards, falling out of him and flopping directly onto your stomach. ‘Be my good boy and finish on my back instead’. Matt whines but obeys, knowing that if he doesn’t he’ll be punished. He wraps his fist around his wet thickness and begins to stroke himself quickly. His hot skin slips over his hand easily and he whimpers and pants when his cum creams out of his tip. It leaks and splatters all over your back and you smile in exhaustion after he finishes completely, his own exhausted breaths wracking his own body.
Flopping onto the bed next to you, he calms, his spent length satisfied and both of your orgasms soothing over your sexual frustration.
His baby blue eyes softly scan over your face, and he doesn’t even try to hide his smile in adoration at the way you look with his squint glasses resting on your face. You look so gentle and so kind, and he almost wants you to keep the glasses for yourself just so that he can see you with them on every day. If only he didn’t need them for reading.
‘So… time for homework?’ You mumble.
Matt giggles with a toothy grin.
‘Time for homework’.
Author’s notes p.2: @lovingmattysposts … you don’t have to hold your breath anymore gf, I gotchu. I definitely felt the pressure with writing this one that’s for sure, bc so many people have wanted a part 2, so hopefully I’ve done nerd Matt justice. Also I am SO sorry if I accidentally missed out anyone who wanted to be on the tag list, there were quite a few names and I don’t have the best of memories lol. Thank you so much for giving me and my writing the time of day. It literally means the whole world to me :) P.S. Aww? Such a cutie pie little moment at the end wtf??
Taglist: @lovingmattysposts @strniohoeee @asturniolos @thesturniolos @nickdevora @sturnioloenthusiast @sturniolosreads @vecnasnose0 @chr1sgirl4life @kvtie444 @ellie-luvsfics @reidsween @hrt-attack @gigisworldsstuff @stargirlsturniololover @imlidewwallyhittingdagwiddy @sturniolololover @jahlisa22 @bernardsgf @luvasr @meg-sturniolo
#matt sturniolo#sub matt sturniolo#mommy k!nk#chris sturniolo#christopher sturniolo#sturniolo smut#sturniolo triplets#nick sturniolo#nicolas sturniolo#sturniolo#matthew sturniolo#sturniolo x reader
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trouble, m | jjk
... aka, jeon jungkook’s dick is so good and your pussy is so heavenly that faith in humanity is restored.
pairing(s): jungkook x reader
warnings: rated M (18+) for language; a hookup turned awkward meeting at a goddamn McDonalds of all places; smut (fem reader, hair pulling, heavy making out, m-receiving oral, doggy, penetrative sex, fingering, m-masturbation); non-idol!BTS – ft best friend!Park Jimin being a wingman little shit classic
--
“Oh, I’m in trouble.”
Panic coursed throughout his veins.
“I can’t be here.”
And maybe a little bit of arousal too.
“Jungkook, this is a public place,” Park Jimin corrected him. “Anybody can be at McDonald’s.”
He almost got up from his seat, except he was boxed in a corner of a crowded fast-food restaurant and Jimin shoved the tray full of food right in front of his face. The other side of the table held various shopping bags full of things that Jimin thought his mother would like for the upcoming new year. Why did Jeon Jungkook have to be here? Well, he was the one guy from Busan who happened to be Jimin’s close friend and Jimin’s mother’s favorite friend of her son’s. Therefore, Jungkook obviously had to select something for Jimin to buy just so Jimin could say, Jungkook thought you would look nice in this cream sweater, thus gaining maximum best son points.
Yeah, Jungkook didn’t really get it either, but he was told that he was getting free food out of it.
Didn’t think it was going to be McDonald’s, though.
Also didn’t think that his fuck from last night was going to serendipitously appear, standing in line looking drop-dead gorgeous as she pushed the fur-lined hood of her coat back. Her lush hair spilled out in soft waves over the shoulders of that the black suede long-line stunner, far too much luxury for the city mall. And then there was her face. What god thought it would be funny to allow someone to look that effortlessly pretty bare-faced? Who put such sexy eyes on such a cute face? One glance and one would think, how cute with those dimples and pillowy lips, and then do a double take when the shape of those foxy eyes sunk in, holy shit, fuck me right now. Or, at least Jungkook had thought that. Still thought it, looking at her again in the daylight. Tight white top, heather gray sweatpants that didn’t match the lavishness of the jacket, and easy black-and-white sneakers, clearly everything thrown together to grab some food quickly while being a goddamn snack herself.
Jimin was carefully positioning Jungkook’s meal in front of him – fries, massive sandwich with both a beef patty and fried chicken patty, tall Coca-Cola and all, chatting away, and all Jungkook could do was gawk like an idiot.
Like he said, he was in trouble.
Tomorrow.
The ghost of her hand slid up his chest, caressing his skin while her voice curled by his ear, soft lips kissing down his neck.
I hope your friends ask about me.
The image entering his mind, the way she smiled above him, her skin alight from his mood lamp with specks of red light playfully dancing over her jaw, her fingertips tracing his muscle making his heart race, her soft thighs against his, smooth and sleek and making him insane.
The devil was in the details.
“Hello? Did you space out again?”
Jungkook jumped, startled that Jimin was glaring at him. “What?”
Those small hands stiffly pointed to the food spread before them. “Eat? Come on, it’s busy and we don’t want to take up too much time.”
“R… Right.”
He had about two seconds to take a bite out of his sandwich before Jimin casually asked in between bites of curly fries, “Oh yeah, you ran off last night with that sexy lady. How did that go?”
Jungkook choked.
-
That’s all I am, sex and shallow feelings, tch, what an idiot, acting like it was ever anything else, I don’t need anyone and I won’t need anyone, go ahead and act all high and mighty in front of your friends during the day, we all know you’ll be begging to crawl in my bed at night.
Mind a billion thoughts a minute.
You tilted your head and found yourself not that hungry. Still, some fries and a drink sounded good, so you picked that. Reached into the fur by your chest and pulled out your cardholder, tapping it to pay as you continued scowling in your head, trying not to let it show in the form of resting-bitch-face.
Ten minutes before this moment had been an annoying confrontation. You considered if you could have handled it better.
Or more savagely.
You should have pulled up all those messages you had left on read.
Sigh, but, no, you hadn’t thought of it. Ultimately, it wasn’t worth your time. It would have been a childish move. Why was that anyway? Why was it that you needed to be the “bigger person” and not be petty when some guy got all up in your face about you not wanting a relationship as his supposed friends crowded around in a circle around you two, clearly silently intimidating you? In public! Fuckin’ bum-rushed you on the street as if the showy dramatics would illicit shame or obedience. Yeah, because you were a woman who would just kill to be in a relationship, right? You scoffed internally. ‘Cause it was just so important to be in a relationship, more than, oh, I don’t know, actively not being in one that was definitely, absolutely gonna make you miserable?
Also, he hadn’t even been that good in bed.
“At least I am sex. You couldn’t even be that for a slut with as low standards as me,” was your frigid reply before walking away.
You couldn’t understand it. What was so great about relationships anyway? People only got into them for easy sex. A lotta work for a shitty time. You could get laid without the emotional baggage of another, thank you.
Although, sex probably wasn’t easy for people who acted like little bitches.
Hah.
You thanked the employee and accepted your food, wandering over to the drinks fountain with your paper cup. A basic day of running errands on your off-day now ruined by this bullshit. Nothing a little McDonald’s couldn’t fix though. Something about the nostalgia of hot, simple, cheap fast food made it more delicious. You probably should have gotten a sandwich or something, but you didn’t want to be too full and not want to do your errands after. Fried potatoes it was.
Hey, people called you sex, not the epitome of health.
You notched your finger on the tab and watched the honey-sweetened black ice tea pour out of the nozzle, which was the exact moment your intrusive thoughts popped up.
You avoid making deep relationships so that no one will notice when you die.
Thanks, brain.
Funnily enough, no one had ever said this to you. You would think someone would have noticed by now but, no, this was a revelation you made yourself once you were old enough to understand yourself better, and it came randomly while showering. Hmph. Goddamn showers. You slipped past a lovey-dovey couple to sit by the window counter, plopping down on one of the stools to munch on your fries for a bit. Alone. Some people wanted a lot of people to surround them. A sense of community and togetherness. Some people wanted a chosen few, valuing the quality over quantity. And some people were like you, loners who accepted who you were and that was NSFS – not safe for society – patiently waiting for the one that really understood you.
Or maybe there wasn’t anyone like you and you were just delusional about that.
Anyway, didn’t really matter. This kind of thing simply ended with thinking in circles. Sure, you could dwell on the whole question of existence, the why, but you had determined the more important was the who, the self within, and that wasn’t driven by the why. The who was driven by instinct.
If your instinct was to eat, fuck, sleep, repeat, then so be it.
Oh, and occasional responsibilities, like getting your tires rotated. Hence why you even outside today in the first place.
Hah, what a bother.
You munched on your crispy, hot fries and didn’t bother anyone. You learned not to expect too much out of people. They talked a lotta talk and didn’t walk much walk. I want this, this, and this, you heard a whole lot and nobody did it. A speech was all well and good, just not nearly as half as interesting as doing. And if you didn’t want to do it, you didn’t waste time beating yourself up over it. If that resulted in you only hooking up and avoiding relationships that you didn’t feel like committing to, then at least you weren’t disingenuous or fake.
Yup.
Looking out the window, you watched the people rush past with their shopping bags, linking arms with each other to avoid slipping on the sidewalk. Snow flurries falling down, down. The glass was clean enough that you could see inside the restaurant too. Tables with families and friends sharing simple, cheap fast food and turning it into a collective memory. Laughter and conversation echoed around your silence.
The looking glass showed you two ways.
You didn’t mind it, but it was evident you weren’t part of it too.
Hmmmm.
Your gaze stopped at a pair of guys. One of them was wearing a big black bucket hat. You noticed him because large brown eyes were actively staring back at you. Ogling, even.
What the–
You turned slightly and sat up straight with alarm as Jeon Jungkook stiffened and shifted, scooting closer to the person next to him, sneaking a not-so-subtle glance at you. You continued to look back in stunned confusion.
At goddamn McDonald’s?
Is no place sacred?
It was only less than twenty-four hours ago, but last night felt like another world.
-
Your fingers framing your face.
You licked your lips. Staring into his eyes, everything dark except for the mood lamp he left on. Cycling lights slowly drifted on the ceiling in a colorful haze. It was easy to remember all the shit people liked to say about you when you were alone, she’s so pretty but I hear she’s only into casual sex, what a shame, but you found solace in knowing that they had one fact wrong, because casual sex was for casuals and that was the wrong adjective to describe what you did.
Definitely the incorrect one to describe what transpired between you and Jeon Jungkook last night.
Your hand slipped from your cheek, and you touched his skin, bringing his face close to yours, keeping the whispers only in the air that you shared with those trembling lips.
“You’ve got cute eyes, but I bet you can be sexy when you want to.”
What was wrong with this? What was wrong with your comfort zone being someone else’s hands on your waist, pulling you closer? What was wrong with accepting the surge of power you felt licking the side of his mouth, adding slippery friction to the harshness of the metal rings pierced there, drinking in his moan as you teased him? It was just so annoying caring about all that noise trying to get to you, telling you to tone it down, telling you to stop, and, for what, don’t you have shame, that’s not how women should act, no. What they really meant was that was not how they would act. The consensus was to strive to be the respectable audience, always strive to fit in and be the quiet ones.
You envied their desire for silence.
Because you had to be loud.
You tangled your fingers in his long black hair and pulled his head back, running your tongue over his neck, tasting that skin and the anticipation vibrating in those muscles underneath. Admired the shivers under your body as you rolled into him, nice and slow and agonizing, whispering dirty things to him, things you wanted and none of it safe for work, finally bringing his head back down to nip at those gasping lips, intending on turning them pink and prickling with want, kissing him softly in contrast to the way you tugged at his hair every time he tried to intensify it.
“P-Please…”
His hands on your bare ass, hiking your dress up, digging his fingernails in, trying to keep his breathing even as desperation bled into it.
“You said to show you what I like,” you murmured. “I like teasing you.”
You pressed your body to his so your perfume would cling to his clothes, his bedsheets, his skin.
-
This was going to sound dramatic, but Jungkook was pretty sure last night she saved his life.
Actually.
That sounded very dramatic.
And kind of pathetic, so Jungkook kept that thought to himself, but nevertheless he kept that secret close to his chest, next to his racing heart that couldn’t seem to slow down, especially when her nails raked down his back while her tongue snaked around his, sucking on it lightly compared to the force behind her hands, the contrast between kiss and touch causing unbearable levels of arousal. He hadn’t expected a casual conversation to turn into this. He liked to think he was maybe charming, perhaps suave in some cases, occasionally daring, but he didn’t want anyone to get the wrong idea.
Casual sex could only stay casual if both people got the memo.
And Jungkook knew he didn’t want to get in too deep unless he was sure and the truth was that he wasn’t sure if he was ever going to want someone that much. It was fucking terrifying to be that vulnerable. How could he ever be “sure”? If he failed at his own goals, the only one he was letting down was himself. If his plans didn’t go as planned, well, that sucked but it was okay because it was only himself and he could do something about it. But getting his heart broken by someone else – ugh, what could he do about that? Worse, everything became so complicated when people didn’t say what they meant and didn’t mean what they say. It would be nice to experience the good stuff without the chance of getting his heart broken.
Cut out all that risky business.
It was a bit strange that this situation hadn’t felt like a risk. Of course it was, how was it not risky bringing a woman you barely knew to your apartment with the intent to make out and who knows what else, but, hey, the moment had felt right.
Or maybe it was the gods playing tricks on him.
But, anyway, her tongue wrapping around his balls felt amazing.
She pressed her soft lips to the sensitive skin and sent shivers through his legs as her fingernails dragged down his tense thighs. He hoped they left marks, or at least lingered for a few hours. Looking down, and those sly eyes were gazing back, like they knew exactly the effect they had on him. Sparkling when her name escaped his lips in a pleading whisper, glinting in the low light as her head tipped back and her tongue curled underneath his balls to lick that thin skin behind him, making him gasp and almost fall over, his palm smacking into the wall to hold him up. A jolt of radiating pain shot up his forearm, and then her hot, wet mouth surrounded him and swallowed his cock as deep as it would go.
He wanted to say he had made a sexy moan, but he was ninety-nine percent sure his neighbors were awake, so instead Jungkook whimpered and rested the crown of his head against the wall, feeling his hair stick to his face. Apparently, his embarrassing vocalizations didn’t matter though, because her head started slowly moving back and forth. Her eyes closed, humming steadily in satisfaction. His breath caught in his throat, forgetting all about the pain and instead drowning in the pleasure that rose like scalding steam. Ecstasy shimmered through every blood vessel in his body. Soft lips, swirling tongue, tight throat that closed in around the swollen head and pulsed, pulling him in deeper, and Jungkook could feel it, his cock twitching and getting harder, the insistent softness on the cusp of not enough, and yet so much was happening. Flexing wet muscle under the head every time she backed up, trapped in that warm sleeve, her cheeks sucking inward and drawing him deeper every time her lips pressed into his crotch, her graceful fingers fanning over his thighs and ass, stroking his tingling skin in time with her tongue.
Holy fuck.
Maybe it was dramatic that last night she saved his life by blowing his dick with such incredible skill, but Jungkook was sticking to this drama.
Wasn’t casual sex supposed to be wham, bam, thank you, next. Not, holy shit, my cock is so fucking deep in her throat I can feel her neck muscles flexing, but perhaps he had done some good deeds or this year was going to be extra prosperous in the sex front (it wasn’t a question that came up much among those elderly fortune tellers his mom visited, how odd). It had to be something like that, because how was he supposed to know the friend of a friend was going to be, one, hot, and, two, down to fuck, and, three, actually good at it?
And, four.
Readily manhandle him. But not in a threatening way. In an unafraid-to-say-and-get-what-she-wanted way. The direct, forward assertiveness was sexy as hell, but Jungkook wasn’t going to tell other people that he liked it when a woman took charge. That wasn’t exactly small talk. It didn’t come up naturally. He didn’t even tell the women he had previously slept with. It hadn’t felt like the right atmosphere. And, well, the sex was just okay. He figured he had to be careful in what he said when he wasn’t sure if they were going to be long term.
He had to cover his ass.
Speaking of.
Her fingernails sank into his ass and dragged down harshly as she tilted her head back. His throbbing cock slid down along the back of her throat, sending uncontrollable tremors up his chest and down his legs, pain and pleasure and perfection.
Jungkook slapped a hand over his mouth and let out a muffled half-scream.
She started focusing exclusively on the head, back and forth, running her tongue over it with her plush lips constricting the base, holy shit, and his eyes rolled back in his head, his hand falling, exhale thin and thinning out even more as he was reaching the end. It was too unexpectedly good, fuck, it made the muscles in his back tremble and his blood boil, o-oh, fuck, made his heart race and his calves strain with tension, I’m gonna c-cum, made his scalp tingle and his mind go blank with pleasure and he never thought an orgasm could be this intense unless he was the one getting himself off, but he was wrong, he was so fucking wrong, because he could feel the tightening in his core spiraling a bit too much and he was going to lose his fucking mind.
He gasped and screamed under his breath.
The high hit him like the sudden violent snap of elastic, so sharp that he was winded and able to feel the muscles of upper thighs spasm, shooting a rather impressive amount down her throat, almost regretful he didn’t pull out so that he could see how much it was, but none of that mattered, ensnared in wave after punishing wave of indecent, gratified lust flinching through his shaking, hard muscles as he felt his cum fill her mouth.
She swallowed.
Jungkook almost punched the wall, the oversensitivity almost painful, his hoarse voice on the verge of cracking.
“C… Careful…. P-Please…”
Those eyes flickering up, and she seemed to understand. Gently, pulling back just a little. He almost buckled at the sensation of the sucking lessening, such a good feeling but overwhelming in the afterglow, and then it was cloud-nine bliss, achingly perfect in the way she carefully slid his cock along her tongue, his twitching length gliding in the puddle of saliva and cum, repeatedly, soaring high like the moon, the thick viscosity creating a slick friction that was wicked heaven.
He wanted to say, oh, yeah, I lasted a long time after that.
He did not.
I’m in trouble.
He realized that the second she got on her knees on his bed, raised her ass, and turned her head back to smirk at him. Made direct eye contact as he tried to hide his gulp and put on the condom, keeping his hands low so she didn’t see them quiver. He was staring a bit too much, but she simply reached over and took his right hand, caressing his tattoos, and then he gasped as his fingers touched slippery wetness, looking down, and was he allowed to fall in love with a beautiful pussy at first glance or not allowed? Fuck, she even had a cute asshole. Was that too dirty to think or what?
Jungkook didn’t contemplate it too much as she slid his fingers into her, the soft, firm walls wrapping around him.
“Ready?” she hummed.
“Y- Yeah…”
In hindsight, he could have said much sexier things other than, yeah, but that was the least of his problems. Getting on his knees, sinking in, and he nearly blacked out with how good it felt. A steady controlled pulse surrounding him. Somehow, his cock became even harder, his fingers splaying out over the juicy curve of her ass, deeper, so tight, and it was all her, that cute face smiling back at him with the tip of her tongue tracing her upper lip. Naughty smirk widening, captivating foxy eyes filled with mirth shining in the darkness of his bedroom.
Jungkook didn’t even care.
He was just trying not to bust a nut at this excessive amount of sensuality that he hadn’t been prepared for.
“You look very sexy with your hair over your face like that.”
He hadn’t even noticed the strands of black covering his vision because he had been too busy looking down.
“Your back looks… oh, f-fuck… looks so beautiful…”
She grinned and lowered herself on his sheets to push back against him.
He had stuttered because her pussy had squeezed him in between his words. There wasn’t any time to be eloquent anyway, not with the sudden need surging through him at this improved angle, his grip on her hips tightening and thrusting his hips forward, wincing at how loud that smack was, surely someone outside heard, but there was nothing he could do about it, didn’t want to stop, couldn’t stop, sinking his teeth into his lower lip and trying not to add any additional noise, wanted to slow down but it felt so good when he was so deep, so tight and choking his shaft, the sensitive head of his cock rubbing against her walls and swelling. Even with the condom he felt so much, pressure and power and intensity, placing a palm on her lower back and groaning between clenched teeth, the arc of her ass so obvious and the bounce so visible that he would dream about it, all of it, the slaps of body to body, thrusting hard, rough, his ears tingling with her low, sexy moans, too good, felt too good, and he wanted to last longer but just couldn’t.
Threw his head back and yelled under his rushing exhale, straining to contain his cry in his chest.
Didn’t last much longer with a new condom and in missionary position either. He kept staring at her pretty face and perky tits, feverish desire racing with every slap of hips-to-hips, his hair falling into his eyes, struggling to see her hands clutching his pillows, and then she arched her back to give him a full view of those perfect, tasty-looking, hard nipples. Honestly, he was proud of himself for lasting the ten minutes that he did. Five minutes. Er, at least he hoped he lasted more than five minutes.
He was sweaty and gasping but he asked anyway.
“Sorry, I… Are you upset at me?”
She tilted her head, confused. “For what? That felt amazing.”
His face burned as he mumbled under his breath.
“I… I usually last longer…”
“Oh.” Blink. “Oh!” She grinned at him, and it was so devious that Jungkook realized this must not be the first time she had heard that. “I don’t care about things like that. But, uh…”
Her sex saved his life.
Her next words murdered him on the spot.
“You know, when you came, uh… I’m sure you were trying to be quiet and all that, but you sounded a bit like one of those faraway screams that happen in movies. You know, when someone gets thrown far away mid-battle. A very tiny, aaaaaaa…”
Not the best sex of his life comparing his orgasm noise to the Wilhelm scream.
-
You could admit it.
You shouldn’t have said that.
But also shouldn’t people be told of such things so that they became more self-aware? It took everything in you not to burst out laughing in his presence (although you did laugh a lot when you arrived home). And it wasn’t as if you were going to see him again. For a while, anyway. Definitely not the next day at goddamn McDonald’s.
Right?
Wrong.
You gawked at Jungkook until the other guy with him noticed and started staring at you too. Oh, jeez, it was Park Jimin, another one of the guys who had been there last night at the birthday party. You remembered him and his distinctive, bubbly giggling all night. He had a great voice too, making listening to karaoke actually bearable. He was, however, the kind of guy that wanted to be in the know about everything and everyone.
Aw, shit.
You weren’t ready for another repeat of this morning.
Jimin’s round, discerning eyes recognized you immediately even in your casual clothes and lack of makeup. You snapped your head back to your empty paper packaging. Snatched up your cup, pushing away from the window counter and stepping down, winding over to the drinks machine to top off on tea before sprinting it. Hey, McDonald’s wasn’t that cheap anymore. Inflation was a thing. Better get as much as you could before leaving.
You tossed the oily packaging and your napkin before turning around, immediately nearly colliding with Jeon Jungkook.
“Gah!”
“Oh!”
And he grabbed your waist.
Of course, he did.
Your bare waist, because you were wearing a crop top under your heavy coat.
You kept your drink-holding hand out of the way and gasped into his chin, your other hand landing on his left upper arm and squeezing, suddenly tense all over. It was hard and solid under your grip, twice as tense as you were.
“S-Sorry, Jimin pushed me…”
You vaguely heard Jungkook mumbling but you didn’t have time for this, didn’t have time to be let down again by humanity. Didn’t have time for Jeon Jungkook getting into your face about you fucking and dipping, scolding you about being too blunt, and possibly even directly calling you a bitch. Not that you didn’t deserve it. You just didn’t want to find out that cute-faced, criminally-undercover-sexy, surprisingly-a-very-good-fuck Jeon Jungkook could maybe be a shitty person.
Didn’t want to know.
Better not to know.
“S’okay. Let me get out of your way,” you mumbled back, turning your head away.
“You’re not in my way.”
You heard him say it, didn’t believe it, and yet his hands were still around your waist.
“Actually… Please be in my way.”
You froze.
Snapped your head back and found yourself centimeters from Jeon Jungkook’s face.
Oh, I’m in trouble.
He let go of you, slowly, his touch hovering as if you would make a break for it in the middle of this crowded McDonald’s, as if you would bowl over small children and their Happy Meals to escape, sending plastic toys flying in your wake. But you did no such thing, instead holding your breath, realizing how upset you would be if this was another you’re an insensitive whore moment. The truth was that you didn’t care until you did, or at least until you fully comprehended that you were glad to see Jungkook rather than completely indifferent. Why? He hadn’t said anything special. Just, please make it home safely. You had thought that was weird, please. Brushed it off as him being polite or even maybe trying to entice you with that light touch of submissiveness, anything but the possibility of him actually, honestly, straightforwardly caring about your safety.
You learned to expect people not caring for much except for themselves.
“I… Good afternoon,” you managed to get out, stepping closer as a crowd of kids squashed themselves against the drinks fountain, clambering over each other with their paper cups, yelling about how you snooze, you lose even though there was plenty of soda in a fast-food restaurant.
An adult, presumably a guardian, ran over to tell them to quiet down.
“Y… Yeah…” was Jungkook’s strangled reply, startled at you attempting conversation.
You held your sweet tea and tried to lightly bow, but realized that you could hit him in the chin if you did. You stepped aside to avoid that, and then his hand darted out. Stopping. Suddenly aware of what he was doing, stuck on what to do, looking at you helplessly for instruction. This was some love song or romcom movie shit.
No.
This was a goddamn McDonald’s, not awkward-sexual-tension meeting grounds. You grabbed his hand and pulled him along, spinning to find yourself crammed into the table with a grinning Park Jimin and too many shopping bags.
“Oh, hey. Funny seeing you here.”
Jimin was stifling his giggles.
You immediately let go of Jungkook’s hand, your face frozen and expressionless.
“Ah, Jungkook, can you watch my food?” Was it your imagination or did Park Jimin just bat his eyelashes? “I’m gonna go put the gifts in my car.”
Oh no.
“Stay right there!”
Jungkook looked mortified. “Jimin, wait–”
But he did not wait. Ruffled fluffy black hair, mischievous smile, and a whoosh later, those crinkly paper bags gone like a disappearing act, leaving you and your fuck of last night with a half-eaten sandwich and cold fries.
“I… He… I’m sorry,” Jungkook sputtered, jerking erratically.
You clutched your tea like a liquid social safety net. “Sit down. Children are staring at us.”
Sure enough, a small crowd of curious peepers were climbing the low half-wall and peering at you and Jungkook. They were being plucked off one by one by a pair of exasperated ladies who looked like they desperately needed a nap. As soon as one child was removed, another climbed up to take their place. Inquisitive little bundles in brightly colored jackets, pom-pom beanies, and sipping soda from paper cups. Jungkook whipped his head back, exposing his red ears under his bucket hat for half a second, saw the kids, and sat down beside you, turning his back to them.
Now even bigger peepers were directed at you.
“Uh…”
You cleared your throat. Drank some tea. “Erm.”
“I... I didn’t expect to see you here.”
You almost choked on your chuckle. “Yeah, uh… same.” You ticked your head to the outside, in the general direction Jimin had run off too. “Shopping for new year stuff?”
Jungkook shrugged. “Mostly for Jimin’s family. I usually shop online.” He scrunched his face with a little bit of dismay. “It’s too much on the weekends sometimes.”
“Yeah, I’m the same.”
Your knee touched his.
He looked at you.
Don’t look at me like that. I’m gonna want to kiss you.
“And we’re in the middle of a McDonald’s.”
“What?”
You could see stray strands of black brushing against his cheeks. Could see those starry brown eyes under that big bucket hat, those pink lips parted and that small mole underneath them trembling, something you had noticed last night even in the low light because you had been licking up his neck and watching his open mouth, savoring the way his whine travelled by vibration through your insistent lips from his throat.
“I don’t want to make out with you in front of all these children,” you clarified, letting out a slow, concealed breath. “But if you keep looking at me like that, I’m going to make a bad decision.”
People only get into relationships for shitty sex.
Right?
I want to be around him.
“Um… I think Jimin wanted to get an air fryer and who knows what else… I’m supposed to carry the big stuff,” Jungkook grumbled, sounding like he wanted to abandon his current adventure for a different kind of adventure. Still, he begrudgingly remained a good friend. “But tomorrow…?”
You weren’t sure if he was aware that he was getting closer to you, practically thigh-to-thigh and shoulder-to-shoulder, but then you put your hand on his coat sleeve. He froze up, holding his breath. He smelled good. Fresh and clean, like laundry from the dryer. He was close enough for you to clearly discern his scent.
Close enough for you to remember.
“I need to get my tires rotated,” you finally remembered. “I’ll call you.”
His cheeks flushed pink. “C-Call me?”
“Yeah, give me your number.”
-
She asked for it like it was easy.
Who cares? Jungkook determined, after all, that he was easy. Or at least his hands were hurriedly fumbling with his phone as he blurted out the numbers as calmly as he could, which was probably not that calm, but who cared? Not him and definitely not his dick.
“Thanks. Don’t forget to answer or I’ll feel dumb.”
“Wait, give me your number.”
She paused, glancing at him. Shivers all over when their eyes connected, and he was sure he saw a guarded flicker in those eyes, but then it was let go, her lashes lowering, casting away the unknown reservation that he hoped she could tell him one day. And yet she stayed silent, turning her phone over in her hand.
“I want it,” he breathed.
Her eyes shifted back up. Ghost of a smirk on those lips.
Like she was trying to hold back.
“I’m going to give it to you,” she whispered to him, and he had to lean in, no, wanted to lean in and the scent of her perfume caught him, sweet and smokey, all those memories flashing back, in the dark with fistfuls of his sheets and breathing in, his pillows, his blanket, his clothes, heavenly and arousing. “Just saying I come with a warning label.”
“What kind of warning?” Jungkook found himself asking even though he was desperate to indulge in this risky business.
“I’ll never let your last that long,” she purred with a smug smile. “Don’t give up, okay?”
Jungkook felt his cheeks burn as he typed down the number and kept his retort to himself because Jimin suddenly appeared and the conversation was abruptly over. He jerked his head away quickly as she mouthed a tiny aaaa under her breath, teasing him, and this was a bad decision but he answered the call anyway when it came.
-
What are you doing? You don’t do relationships. People don’t like the way you do things. They’re complicated and full of secrets. They can’t be honest. You’re too honest. It doesn’t work.
Your intrusive thoughts had worked the graveyard shift and were now doing overtime.
They don’t like you.
You weren’t that surprised at these thoughts. You also did the absolute most when fucking and probably not enough outside of fucking. Some would call this karma. You would call it a nuisance. Shut the fuck up, brain. You already knew all this. You knew and you muted all that sound, all that excess noise that warned of tomorrow being ruined, chose to shut it all out until there was nothing but the melody of Jeon Jungkook’s bated breath.
You could listen to your head and let those thoughts fuck everything up.
Or you could place your fingertips on Jungkook’s lower lip and feel his gasp travel through your nerves, feel the way your blood shimmered in your veins and raced faster. Caress that pink curve to stop at his lip rings, tangible, hard and soft juxtaposed. Breathe out, your eye line lifting, up, finding those large dark brown orbs surrounded by wispy black tendrils.
Jungkook wanted you.
That was pretty obvious, especially from his hands trying to slide up your skirt.
He was just waiting for you to start it off.
You could listen to your head or choose to feel and listen to your instincts, dangerous as it was.
I’m in so much trouble, fuck.
You knew it, and yet you leaned in and kissed him anyway. Something about him, the way his eyes instantly closed when you came close, the way he trusted your eyes wouldn’t stay open, the way his lips gave in to your insistence, no, yearned for it, his fingernails sinking into your hips and yanking you close, onto his lap and into his heat, and then it was darkness and tongue and breathing into his mouth, hot and unnerving and addictive.
You hadn’t even noticed you had closed your eyes until you felt your hands sliding into his hair. Barely even perceived how you held your breath when your chest pressed against his, gasping, too many clothes in between and all the anticipation, dancing your nails over his scalp and sucking on his tongue, his melodious moan melding with your heartbeat roaring in your ears.
What is this?
You rolled your hips into his lap and Jungkook groaned, breaking the kiss and tipping his head back, his hardness twitching between your legs, insistently pressing up through his sweatpants as his neck became exposed. And there was nothing you wanted to do but press your lips to that mole on his neck, tasting that tan skin and inhaling his scent, wanting to be covered in it, drenched in it, dancing kisses up his jaw and catching his ear with your teeth, tugging on his hair and rocking your hips back and forth, turning hot friction into hot, damp friction.
“I c-can’t…”
His moan rang in your ears, his fingers pushing up the sides of your panties and driving them into the crevice of your ass, creating a damn thong with too much fabric.
“Can’t t-take it anymore…”
Pulled hard and you gasped, feeling the slinky fabric slip in between your folds, soaked and soaking, strong hips knocking into that dug-in fabric and practically bouncing your pulsing pussy on his rock-hard erection.
You curled your arm around his head and tipped his face to yours, seeing his glassy eyes and open mouth, his shaking breath feathering against your chin, and if Jeon Jungkook was a liar, then he was a damn good one, one of those liars so deep in the lie that it started becoming truth.
He whispered your name in the shared air, between his and your trembling lips.
He’s too desperate to be a liar.
You closed the distance between lips and tangled your tongues in the tango, lifting your hips at the same time, smiling at his whine before silencing it by pulling his hand between your legs, pushing the thin fabric aside, and then the collective sigh. Yours, shivering satisfaction. His, driven desire, fingers exploring and sending shivers through your legs. Wet and slippery and soft. Pressing his face into your neck and then gasping when his soft lips pressed to your throat, light kisses and wanton need, his other hand sliding up your sweater, pushing it up.
I want you.
He slid two fingers into you and moaned into your skin, slow, pressing his touch into your clenching walls, his eyes closed under you. In, out, building pleasure, your hips following, riding his hand, deeper, intense, hard, his tongue licking your collarbone and your lashes fluttered, suddenly overcome by shivers.
“I w-want you…”
He gasped against your throat, almost a whimper, those pleading eyes half-opening. Pulling out slightly and rubbing slow circles that made your hips flinch, his fingertips brushing against your slick clit, and those brown eyes darkened, tipping his head back to watch your face. His fingers on your waist tightening, holding you in place, shifting his fingertips, and you bit back a hiss, locking your knees, staring back into his starstruck eyes that showed you everything he was as he stroked your clit, igniting all your nerves and scorching your skin in passionate flames.
You saw what Jungkook was saying.
He wanted you so bad, not just a little, not just for a couple orgasms, not just for every night but also every day, even every afternoon and every twilight and every dead of night. Every kiss, every touch, every look into the eyes telling you this meant more to him than casual and for some reason it didn’t feel like a burden.
Casual sex could only stay casual if both people got the memo.
Suddenly, you realized neither you nor him were getting the damn memo.
You leaned forward and breathed in his exhale, squeezing his hips with your thighs, harder, yes, so good, fast and harsh and closer, closer, pulsing sensitivity escalating, your fingers tangled into his long black hair, entangled moans slipping out, fuck, yes, I’m close, Jungkook, fuck, and he was good but this was more than skill, more than half-lidded eyes and your hand falling, tracing his jaw, biting back your orgasm until…
Until.
“I could stare at you forever,” you breathed.
Closed your eyes and moaned into his mouth, the high crashing down, leaking all over his fingers and causing his touch to slip, dripping down, everywhere, all over the front of his pants and down your legs, and there was no time to care, dragging Jungkook into kiss after kiss, driven by snaking pleasure coursing through your veins. His wet fingers grasped your thigh, kneading the softness, his whines trapped by kisses, begging for your legs against his naked chest.
How could you refuse him?
You just couldn’t.
-
I’m so fucked.
Truly, madly, deeply fucked.
Past in trouble and actually in danger, danger, you’re seconds away from cumming, clenching his jaw and grinding his teeth so he felt something else, anything, please, clutching fistfuls of his sheets and wondering why the fuck the condom wasn’t reducing any sensation because, holy fuck, his cock was trapped in a hot, slippery, tight sleeve that pulsed around his twitching, hard length every time he descended. He couldn’t think, could barely breathe, could do nothing but follow that carnal instinct to thrust over and over, deep as possible, the angle so good he closed his eyes so they didn’t roll back into his head even though he was hopelessly losing his mind at the sensations of her, so soft, so intense, so good his legs were shaking with tension, the rhythmic smacking obscenely loud, rattling bedframe echoing throughout his bedroom.
“H-Harder,” she gasped breathlessly.
Harder?!
Was she trying to kill him?
She lifted her hips and Jungkook knew he was fucked.
He threw all of his energy into his hips and sunk his teeth into his lower lip, his lip rings hitting his teeth. Metal hitting bone. Screaming in his head and tightening his vocal chords, thankful to see her eyes closing, her head tipping back, low satisfied moan of his name travelling to in his ears and then all that he was keeping together shattered and slammed into him, heat rushing and mind-numbing, euphoric high punching all the air out of his lungs, visceral tension snapping at his hips and now he was pumping the condom full, o-o-oh, fuuuuck, her walls shivering and amplifying the good feeling of sexual intoxication, his vision a blur, only now realizing all the sweat sliding down his back and forehead, his damp hair swinging down over his eyes, and maybe lasting a only a couple minutes but it was a damn good couple of minutes if Jungkook was allowed to say so himself.
He was panting, hardly able to catch his breath.
It wasn’t enough.
Fuck, he was so horny and he was barely recovering from his first orgasm. Didn’t know what came over him. A wave of insanity? Inconsolable craving? Willful sacrifice of his soul to the sex goddess in his bed right now? Dramatic, sure. Casual, no, pushing his palms against the bed, shuddering as he pulled out of that tight warmth, almost regretting it, but then he looked down. At the shiny slickness, his white cum swollen at the end of the condom. He gripped the opening and pulled down, peeling it off with a whine, and Jungkook was pretty sure he was overwhelmingly crazy or overwhelmingly horny or both, because why else would he scoot his knees up and start jacking his spent dick like a madman, whimpering at the sensitivity and the slippery friction and the scene before him – her legs lowering from his shoulders, those curious eyes glinting under him, her soft, bouncy breasts rising and falling rapidly in her heavy breathing, fuck, so sexy, so fucking sexy, faster, tighter, staring at those hard nipples he wanted in his mouth right now, so fucking bad.
He let his eyes flicker up.
Gasping, baring his depravity.
She smirked, her tongue tracing the edge of her upper lip.
“Cum on me, Jungkook.”
Words so simple that they could be said by anyone, but this was different, this was too much intensity, too much irresistible pleasure, too much too sure about this feeling, this moment, this connection, and then her fingertips slid up his hard, tense, trembling thigh, sinking her fingernails in and dragging down, those stings of pain sending him over the edge.
“A-Ah, fuck!”
His eyes rolled back and his hips pitched forward, flinching powerfully and shooting cum over her stomach, up her cleavage, sudden streak of white glistening against her skin, jolts of aching bliss penetrating his quivering muscles. Shared gasp, everything smelling like sex, his bedsheets, his clothes, his skin, mixing with her perfume. Sweet like candy and heavy like lust.
Jungkook wanted to douse himself in it.
Her cum and her perfume.
He pressed the dark, purple-red, swollen head of his twitching cock to her cum-covered stomach and moaned, dragging it across and slipping further and further into blinding oversensitivity, on the edge of too much but he liked it, fuck, he liked it more and more as he saw her sly smirk and foxy eyes sparkle, savoring his reactions. It made him want to give in to this side of him more.
Her hand lifted, fingers curling around his chin, stroking his lower lip with her thumb.
“You’re so sexy, Jungkook. I love the way you look at me.”
Something about the way she said it, making him feel that she really meant it.
No, know that she really meant what she said.
His heart fluttered. Took flight.
No.
Soared.
They really were such simple words, nothing complicated at all, and that was how Jungkook knew.
He was sure.
--
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get him back! - lando norris
pairing: lando norris x female!reader
summary: you were carlos’ girlfriend, that was until he cheated on you. you know the perfect way to get him back
note: my first social media au! sorry if it’s crap haha. yes i’m still obsessed with liv’s new album. olivia rodrigo faceclaim 😚
warning: curse words and translated spanish xx
enjoy <3
————
comments:
user6485: I do not support this Carlos. WTFFF
y/nloverrr: WDYM MOM AND DAD MIGHT BE BROKEN UP. FUCK OFFF
sm00th0perat0r: does 5 years mean nothing to idiotic men??
y/nxcarloslover: therapy session at my house at 9
y/ninstagram
liked by landonorris, y/nupdatess, and others
y/ninstagram: back in the studio, i guess.
163,749 comments:
y/nloverr: omg mom & dad are actually over😭
user84821: THIS IS NOT GOOD. OH NO.
carlossss1655: @user84821 why not?
user84821: SHE ONLY HAS BREAKUP SONGS
y/nblog: i’ll go get the tissues
f1wags.com: lando in the likes?
landonorris
liked by y/ninstagram, mclaren, danielricciardo and others
landonorris: p4!!! lfg!!!
450,632 comments:
mclaren: And that’s how it’s done! 🧡
landoslover: YESS LETS GO LANDOOOOO!!!!
danielricciardo: nice job mate xoxo
y/nupdates: y/n, what are you doing here???
y/nloverr: @y/nupdates what are you implying?
y/nupdates: @y/nloverr i think you know…
carlossainz
liked by charlesleclerc, f1wagss, ferrari and others
carlossainz: mi belleza
520,749 comments
user8385 WHO TF IS THAT???
carloooos: 5 years and this mf moves on in 5 seconds
y/nlovebot: manwhore. and not in a good way
f1wags.com: uh we were not expecting this??
f1gossip: No Lando in the likes? Lando always likes Carlos’ posts🤨
user7585: @/f1..gossip DON’T TEASE ME.
y/ninstagram
liked by landonorris, f1dramaa, danielricciardo and others
y/ninstagram: better off without u anyways xoxo
y/nlover: YOU TELL THEM MOTHER
user9395871: SHE ATE HIM UP AND SPAT HIM OUT🫣
landonorris: gorgeous xx
f1dramaa: LANDO?? WTF
y/nlovebot: THEY’RE DEFO DATING, RIGHT???
lastlaplando: YES THEY HAVE TO BE??
comments:
user4959693: SHUT THE FUCK UP. NO WAYYY
y/n5everr: OH MY GOD. WHAT THE HELLLL
landosparklyhemlet: Y/N AND LANDO?? I’M SO HERE FOR THIS
y/nuser: 👀🫣
landolover: OH FUCK THEY’RE SO TOGETHER
user73859: YES GIRL GET HIS ASS
y/nblogs: OH BABYGIRL I LOVE U AND UR MIND
y/ninstagram
liked by landonorris, danielricciardo, conangray and others
y/ninstagram: new single out tonight! be there or be square
comments are off for this post
y/ninstagram
liked landonorris, danielricciardo, vogue and others
tagged: landonorris
y/ninstagram: get him back! is out right now!! thank you to everybody who helped produce this song. a big thank you to my sweet boy for guiding me though a dark time, and also helping make a certain someone jealous and mad ;)
i love you. <3
835,306 comments
y/nlovebot: OMG LANDO AND Y/N CONFIRMED
iloveyou444: I CANNOT DEAL WITH THEM😭😭
landonorris: I am so proud of you, my angel 🧡
f1gossip.com: SHUT THE FRONT DOOR
landonorris
liked by y/ninstagram, danielricciardo, oscarpiastri and others
tagged: y/ninstagram
landonorris: I will never let anybody hurt you, my bean. You are my absolute everything and I am so so proud of you.
Stream Y/N’s new song right now on all platforms!
Comments are off for this post
y/ninstagram
liked by landonorris, alexalbon, conangray and others
y/ninstagram: i would be lost if i didn’t have you with me, my lando. i love you more than words.
502,485 comments
landonorris: you’re mine and mine only y/n <3
danielricciardo: you kids will make me cry
alexalbon: me too
maxverstappen: me three
#Spotify#f1#formula 1#f1 fanfic#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#feelingf1#lando x reader#lando norris fanfic#lando norris x y/n#lando norris#lando norris x reader#f1 social media au#f1 smau#lando norris social media au#lando norris smau
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Okay. I’m going to wait to do a second watch before I articulate most of my other feelings here, but I want to address one thing.
I’m seeing a lot of posts like, “I related to Izzy because I am also queer and older/disabled/depressed. By killing him off, the writers are saying that I deserve to die.”
Guys.
I’m not saying your feelings aren’t valid. I totally understand grieving a character that you relate to. But speaking as a writer, I just want to point out that trying to write with the shadow of “what is the absolute worst and most harmful way a reader can interpret this” will smother your ability to create. Twisting yourself in knots, trying to think up the worst-faith takes possible and scotch-guarding all your writing decisions against them is exhausting to the point of making you just not want to write anymore.
And we’ve seen the writers deliberately choose not to do this in Season 1. Remember all those terrible “Izzy is racist” takes that the writers and cast seemed completely blindsided by? That happened because the writers and directors and actors weren’t going over every scene with a fine tooth comb, ferreting out every shot or line of dialogue or micro expression that could possibly be interpreted as racist, and scrubbing it off. Because there comes a point where your story is what it needs to be, and you have to accept that some people will interpret it in ways you didn’t intend them to. And if you can’t accept that, you’ll never find the courage to put your work out there.
The point of diverse casts and writing teams isn’t to achieve a state of, “Nothing bad ever happens to a character from a marginalized demographic ever again.” It’s to achieve a status quo of these types of characters just being people in the world of the story. Not symbols, not representation boxes to tick, not tokens that you can point to so that you can say, “Here, we acknowledged this type of person exists, now where’s our woke points?”
OFMD is full of characters of color, queer characters, older characters, characters of differing body types. And in stories, things happen to characters. Some fall in love. Some make the same mistakes over and over. Some turn into birds. Some die.
Izzy’s character represents a lot of things, but he does not represent every older, disabled fan or fan who has struggled with suicide, any more than Jim represents all genderqueer fans, or Olu represents all black fans. That’s not how the writers were handling him. They were handling him like a character, because that’s what you have to do.
Again, I understand being sad. I am so, so fucking sad. But this idea of, “Any time something bad happens to a character I relate to means that the writer thinks I deserve these bad things to happen to me,” will poison everything you engage with eventually. Because stories are full of things happening to characters, and they won’t all be good things. And the more representation we get, the more often bad things will happen to characters we relate to.
But good things will happen too.
Queer couples get married. Disabled women run off with their favorite husbands. Middle-aged characters change careers. A multiracial polycule finds a home at sea. A fat man covered in tattoos stars in a drag show and all his friends cheer. All these things happened in the same show as Izzy’s death. This is what this world is.
Anyway. I know emotions are running high and I’ll probably get blocked or unfollowed by a few people for this. But I’m just trying to find my peace where I can, and if anyone else finds this useful, cheers.
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Needs & Wants - Sex Pollen Trope Pt. 5
Bucky Barnes x Reader
**Read part 1, part 2, part 3, and part 4 first for the full effect.**
Summary: As the night drags on, Bucky continues helping you through the peak activity of the chemical compound that you were both exposed to.
Warnings: SMUT, unprotected sex, oral sex, profanity, sex pollen (dubcon), near-somnophilia, dry humping, praise, possessive!Bucky, use of y/n, MINORS DNI, 18+!!!
Special thanks to @littlemiss-yeehaw for helping with the warnings <3
Feel free to comment and let me know if this requires more warnings.
Word Count: 3.6k
Author's Note: I'm living for y'alls reactions to this series over the last few days. Thank you all SOOO much for the continued support and unbelievably kind words. I hope this part does something for you all, hehe. Also, I apologize for any errors you may find. I only proofread it once and I kinda half-assed it. I hate proofreading my own work.
After sleeping the longest stretch so far tonight, you wake up at 2 am with excessively sore legs and a dire need to pee. You debate for a moment whether or not it’s smart to get up, taking into account how unstable you feel as soon as you push the covers back and seat yourself on the edge of the bed. You’re beginning to realize that maybe 75% of your pain and soreness is from the chemical that’s still working in your system, while the other 25% is from having sex with a super soldier. You peek over your shoulder at the man who lays on the other side of the bed, sleeping soundly with his lips parted the tiniest bit. Something stirs deep in the pit of your stomach when you look at him. That’s new. You brush it off as being another onslaught of arousal that you’re going to be experiencing against your will. You lean over and retrieve your panties from the floor, sliding them up your legs silently. You’re sure that they’ll just end up right back on the floor, but with two loads of cum having been thoroughly fucked into you in the last few hours, you don’t want to risk anything dripping down your leg on your trek to the bathroom.
You move slowly, pushing yourself up to a standing position and steadying yourself with a hand on the bedside table before making your way to the door. As you reach the threshold, the pain in your legs intensifies to a much less bearable level and you freeze, your right hand raising up to grip the door frame for support. You just need to make it ten feet down the hall and into the bathroom and you’ll be fine. Of course, it’s not going to go that easily for you. Has anything gone according to plan tonight? No. You hear Bucky stir behind you, the covers rustling as he awakes.
“Where are you going?” His sleepy voice tugs at you, making you look over your shoulder again. He’s propped up on one elbow now, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and then narrowing them in your direction.
“I have to pee. I didn’t mean to wake you.” You whisper. Why are you whispering? You’re the only two people in this house and you’re both awake now. Maybe it’s the darkness of the house making you feel like it’s supposed to be quiet hours.
“Why are you holding onto the door frame?” He questions. It takes him less than two seconds to figure out the scene in front of him. He doesn’t know why you have to be so stubborn and insistent on doing shit yourself all the time. You’re no different in the field. Before you can answer him, he’s climbing out of bed and slipping his boxers back on. You close your eyes and sigh, not even needing to look back to know what he’s doing. Suddenly, you feel the warmth radiating off of his body behind you, then his flesh hand lands on your lower back.
“I’m not completely useless, James.” You mutter, letting go of the door frame and taking a step forward. The pain in your thighs makes you feel as though your legs might give out with just that one step. You suck in a harsh breath and freeze for a second time.
“Right.” If you weren’t so focused on keeping your balance and fighting back tears of agony, you’d have already shoved him away from you. He keeps his hand on your lower back, not daring to scoop you up and carry you to the bathroom like he wants to. Instead, he lets you move at your own pace down the hall. As slow as a fucking turtle. James. You’ve never called him that before. Maybe putting his dog tags around your neck reminded you that he’s called things other than just Bucky, or Barnes, or ass. He takes that as you being one step closer to giving him what he wants most tonight.
Once you finally reach the bathroom door, he lets you step inside alone. But as soon as you move to shut the door between the two of you, he stops it with his vibranium hand.
“The door stays open.” His tone is no different than the one that you hear him use so often in the field, the one that he uses when he thinks he can give you orders like the sergeant he is. It’s never worked on you before and it sure as hell won’t now.
“I’m not letting you watch me pee.” You argue, trying to push the door closed again. Your efforts are fruitless, no match for his strength and his determination to keep the door open.
“Don’t flatter yourself, I don’t want to watch. I’m going to stand out here and wait, but I don’t feel like busting down the damn door if you fall.” You almost laugh. Not wanting him to see the small smile that’s beginning to turn up the corners of your mouth, you give in and turn around, heading over to the toilet. As you face the door once more, you watch Bucky step to the side so he’s just behind the wall, giving you the tiniest bit of privacy. You relieve yourself quickly, but as you’re standing up and pulling your panties back into place, a fresh wave of stinging pain travels down your spine, making you lurch forward and grab onto the edge of the sink for support. Bucky hears your hands land on the hard granite and he hears the way your breathing quickly changes from its usual calm rhythm to a quickened rhythm of discomfort. He wastes no time stepping into the small bathroom, placing himself behind you and looking at you in the mirror.
“What is it?” He asks, looking you over with a worried expression. Normally that worried expression would annoy you out in the field. He gets the same look when you come to the end of a firefight and he isn’t sure if you’re injured or not, or when you haven’t been responding on comms. It’s always made you feel like he thinks you can’t handle yourself. So, why now do you feel cared for?
“Just the same shit we’ve been dealing with all night.” You answer after taking in a deep, shaky breath. Unexpectedly, his hands end up on your hips. You’re starting to get used to him doing that. Instead of his touch giving you at least some minimal relief, your pain doesn’t subside. You wonder if maybe it’s because he’s touching you over your t-shirt. Maybe skin-to-skin contact is what you need right now. “Touch me.” Your words come out as a whisper, your eyes meeting his in the reflection of the mirror. Something flashes in his eyes, something that you think must be surprise at your request. Of course you’d write it off as that. It was actually a flash of desire, as your words immediately sent all of the blood in his body rushing straight to his dick. He knows that you only asked him to touch your skin, without any ulterior motives. He knows that. It’s his dick that doesn’t get the memo. He places his flesh palm across the middle of your back, pushing you forward gently until you’re bent over the sink. Adrenaline begins coursing through your veins and anticipation warms your core. You didn’t know how much you needed this again. He fingers the hem of your shirt, stealing one more look at you in the mirror before slowly sliding it up your back. As soon as your black panties are revealed to him, he lets out a barely audible groan. He closes his eyes for a second, gathering himself, before pushing your shirt up further until it rests near your shoulders. He lets his hands run down your back now, his flesh hand warm and soft and his vibranium hand cool and soothing. You feel the stinging pain along your spine easing in the slightest as you close your eyes and lean into his touch.
“Where does it hurt?” As he bends his upper body over yours, you feel his bare torso making contact with your back, his crotch so close to pressing against your ass. His lips tickle the shell of your ear as he speaks in the most tender yet sexually-charged tone you’ve ever heard fall from a man’s mouth.
“My back.” You answer him promptly, the pain evident in your voice. You’re ready for whatever it is that he might do to help you. As much as you hate to say it, you’re looking forward to whatever he might do. He slides his hands up your back again, before dragging them back down just like he did before. It’s not enough for you. You wonder if it’s enough for him, and the easiest way to get an answer to your question is to arch your back a little and push your ass back against him. You feel the hard outline of his cock line up with your ass and you can’t help the giggle that sneaks past your lips. Infuriating. He finds you fucking infuriating.
“What do you think you’re doing?” His voice is tense and you note the way the muscle along the side of his jaw is flexed. He’s quick to grip your waist, holding you still against the edge of the sink. His gaze narrows at you in the mirror and you think he looks almost bothered, but a little voice in the back of your head is screaming at you to test the waters.
“Hmm?” You grind your ass back again, expecting him to stop you by utilizing his hold on your waist, but he simply looks down at your ass as it rubs against his boner. You can’t read his face now. Is he bothered? Turned on? Does he want to fuck again? Bucky can barely even read himself. His cock is as hard as it’s been every other time you’ve been this close to him tonight, but within his mind, he’s warring with himself. He held himself back both of the previous times that you had sex. He was careful, diluting the strength and intensity with which he fucked you. He still fully enjoyed it, in fact, it was the best sex he’s ever had. But he was scared he’d hurt you, or even worse, that he’d get so lost chasing his own relief that he wouldn’t even notice he was practically using you.
He lets you continue your ministrations for a few seconds, watching intently as you grind against him, your back arched and your hair cascading over your shoulder. You’re so damn pretty like this that it hurts him to look at you for too long. Especially when he’s not currently inside you. He could probably stand to look at you longer if he was buried deep inside of you.
An idea crosses his mind. Something that he hadn’t been clear-minded enough to think about either of the other two times that you had sex tonight. He wants to taste you.
First, he’s going to make you scream his name while he draws an orgasm from you with only his mouth and fingers, and then he’s going to make you moan his name while he fucks your pussy.
“You know, you’ve been such a good girl tonight.” Oh my god. He did not just call you that. Bucky fucking Barnes did not just call you a good girl while his hard-on is pressed against your ass. The movement of your hips falters, but he watches as your cheeks begin to burn pink in the mirror and your eyes widen at his words. He’s found a weakness of yours.
You feel his fingertips slide beneath the waistband of your panties, slipping them down your legs in one deft movement. You kick them off to the side and you don’t miss the smug smile painted across his face while he watches you comply so readily. His foot moves between yours now, nudging them further apart. You fully expect him to strip off his own boxers and fuck you next. Instead, he leans forward, placing a soft kiss on your left shoulder, then your right shoulder, and then he ghosts his lips all the way down your spine. A chill runs through your body, causing goosebumps to spread across your skin. What the hell is he doing? You can’t even form the words to question him, especially not when his hands begin kneading your ass as he gets down on his knees behind you.
“What do you think you’re doing?” You steal his last question, but your voice is far more shaky and unsure than his was. Suddenly, his hands spread your ass cheeks apart and he circles the tip of his tongue over your clit. “OH MY GOD,” you cry out, completely powerless to do anything other than grip the edge of the sink and scrunch your eyes closed, your back arching even more than it was before.
“Hmm?” The sound he makes causes vibrations to run through his tongue and straight to your clit, drawing another loud moan from you. You can’t think of a single thing to say, you can’t think at all really. He eats you out like it’s the sole cure for the damn chemical that he inhaled earlier tonight. He focuses his mouth on your clit, switching between licking and sucking at it, memorizing the way you taste. You’re seeing stars less than thirty seconds after he sunk down to his knees. Bucky. His name is the only thing in your brain. You bite down on your bottom lip with a bruising force. As you fight to hold back from moaning his name, your right hand reaches up and grasps the dog tags around your neck, running your thumb over the inscription as he pleasures you with his mouth. James B Barnes. You feel yourself getting undeniably close to your orgasm, and he must realize it because he only increases his efforts.
“Are you gonna cum for me, baby?” He taunts, reaching up and rubbing circles against your clit with his fingers as he waits for your response. You nod, but knowing he can’t see you from his current position between your legs, you choke out a breathy answer.
“I’m so fucking close, J—” You cut yourself off abruptly before you slip up and say his name.
“What was that on the end there? Go on, say it.” He eggs you on, pride flaring in his chest at the fact that you almost said his first name. He was so close to hearing it. You shake your head, more to yourself than him, refusing to open your mouth again. “I thought you were going to be a good girl for me, Y/n.” You hear him tsk beneath you and you fear he’s going to stop everything. That is, until you feel his mouth attach to your clit once more and then…
“JAMES!” You scream his name so loud that you’re sure any enemy surveillance within a three-mile radius heard you. You couldn’t help it, you didn’t even think about it as it left your lips. He plunged two fingers into you without warning and curled them, all while flattening his tongue against your clit and giving you the most perfect, wet friction there.
You screamed his fucking name.
Bucky was full of pride and possessiveness, and so unbelievably horny. He put everything he had into drawing an orgasm out of you with his mouth and fingers, and in the end, he had you cumming so hard that you were grinding into his mouth with your left hand behind you, gripping onto his hair. You screamed his name a total of three times before your shaking legs threatened to send you tumbling to the floor, and Bucky couldn’t stand not being inside of you anymore.
That brings you to where you are now: bent over the bathroom sink with Bucky thrusting his cock into you from behind. His right hand is fisting your hair at the back of your head, making sure you can’t move to look at anything other than the reflection of him fucking the shit out of you. It’s as if a damn broke when you screamed his name the first time and now his name falls from your lips repeatedly as you moan and meet each of his thrusts, desperately chasing your second orgasm. He nearly comes undone when he hears a soft Bucky, please under your breath.
“That’s it, Y/n, say my fucking name.” He groans out, his hips snapping into you a little harder as you make eye contact with him in the mirror. Your eyes are begging him to let you cum. “You wanna cum on my cock, don’t you?” He goads, that familiar, frustrating smirk taking over his features. You nod your head as he fucks into you roughly, the sounds of his skin pounding against yours only making you wetter around his cock.
“Please, please Bucky. I need to cum.” You beg. You beg. Shit, he’s going to lose it. A deep, guttural groan is ripped from his throat as his head falls back and he moves his hands to your hips, his fingertips digging into your skin and definitely leaving bruises behind.
“Go ahead, cum for me.” He commands, rutting into you and hitting just the right spot to send you careening over the edge. Your orgasm washes over you and sends butterflies from your stomach, down to your pussy. You clench around him so hard that his own orgasm lurches forward. “Shit, just like that, baby, take it.” He lets go inside you, filling you up with more cum than the last two rounds combined. There’s so much cum that you can feel it dripping down his shaft as he continues to slowly fuck his hard cock into you. You’re so close to begging him not to pull out. You want to ask him to just stay here like this, to let you memorize what it’s like to have him inside of you like this. You’re falling off the deep end.
---
“Shh, I wasn’t going to wake you.” Bucky whispers against the side of your neck. You blink the sleep from your eyes, trying to remember where you are. You’re wide awake once you feel the head of his cock slipping past your folds and sliding halfway inside you.
“Bucky…” You whimper at the unexpected penetration, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath in. Your entrance is so sore from the three other times that you’ve fucked tonight. The feel of his cock sliding in and out of you at a gentle, steady pace grounds you. He’s spoon-fucking you in bed. You both crashed after he took you from behind in the bathroom earlier, and instead of you being the first one to wake up this time, it was him. He woke up so hard and desperate to feel you again. He wanted to let you sleep as long as you possibly could, especially when you looked so comfortable and peaceful in bed next to him, but he needed to hear you say his name again. He fucks you so slowly and tenderly that you can feel every single inch of him as he takes his time with you. You lean back into him, hooking your left leg back and over his legs as he continues his work. He takes your change of position as a go-ahead and his vibranium hand travels up your side, slipping underneath your shirt and grasping one of your tits. Fuck. He hasn’t touched you there before. You moan as he does what he wants with your body, each of your orgasms building up at a leisurely pace. Something about the way he’s fucking you this time feels so much more intimate, so much more like making love. You know you should hate it. You should want to go back to the rough, near hate-sex you were having earlier tonight, but you can’t find it within yourself to change a damn thing.
“You’re so perfect…” Bucky whimpers in your ear. He attaches his lips to the skin just below your ear. You feel his tongue on your skin, licking and then sucking far too gently to leave any visible mark. He wants to mark you up. God, he wants to mark you up. But he knows better than to let anyone find out about any of this. While Bucky is busy reminding himself not to leave any visible marks on your skin, you’re seconds away from giving him the only other thing he wanted tonight. He keeps massaging your neck, the curve of your jaw, and the shell of your ear with his lips and tongue. Without a single thought in your mind, you turn your head to him and press your lips against his. Every muscle in his body freezes, but you feel his cock twitch inside of you. You know you shouldn’t have done it, but now that you’re doing it, you can’t stop. You kiss him harder, sucking on his bottom lip and moaning against him. Bucky thinks he could cum just from this, from being inside you completely still while you kiss him. He wastes no time now, his vibranium hand tilting your chin up for him and giving him a good angle to slip his tongue into your mouth.
Fuck.
Your mouth tastes as good as your cunt.
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#bucky barnes#bucky barnes fanfiction#the winter soldier#winter soldier#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x you#marvel#mcu#bucky barnes smut
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Speaking of brat readerrrrr
Seb leaves to go get some things and gave her clear instructions not to do anything til he’s back but the second Charles his home she’s on his lap riding his thigh to get her release just for seb to come home and find her like that🫠🫣
Am I projecting? I’m projecting
A/N: Brat reader is back with Seb and Charles and she'd totally do this, and sweet Charles would be so clueless also, got a little out of hand in the end, have no shame
You whine, as Seb pushes you down into the couch staring at you, you who was currently only wearing an old ferrari t-shirt and nothing else, being a brat yet again. You just wanted one simple orgasm, but Sebastian was being a dick and refusing to help you out.
"I have told you to behave yourself and here you are acting like a whore. You even interrupted that important meeting because you don't know how to be a good girl." Sebastian sighs, with a slight squeeze of your throat, you arch up and whine spreading your legs.
"No, good girls get orgasms, bad girls stay here and don't touch themselves until I get back, do you understand?" You narrow your eyes, suddenly you remember something and go soft under his hold and sigh. "M sorry, I'll wait." You whisper, giving your best innocent look.
Sebastian smiles gently and lets go of your throat and kissing you sweetly. "Be a good girl, I'm going to run some errands, when i get back and you've been good maybe I'll let you sit on my face." You keen under that idea, but you were you, knowing damn well who'd be home soon. "Okay," You breath and Sebastian smiles, giving you a kiss on the forehead and leaving the apartment.
-----------------------
Hearing the keys jingle in the door, it's shoved open as Charles trudges through the door holding his bags. You sit on the couch, legs under you to hide your naked lower half from your tired and unsuspecting boyfriend.
"Hi, Charlie." You giggle, Charles looks over and smiles, his body shagging in relif at one of you being here to greet him. "Hello, my gorgeous girl," Charles walks over and leans down, kissing you so gently it felt like clouds on your lips. "Where's Sebastian?" Looking around the apartment, he notices the lack of the German.
"Went to run some errands, um Charles, I need help with something," You whisper, looking away but Charles grabs your chin and makes you look at him. "Baby, look at me, what'd wrong?" You smirk, knowing you were sinking your teeth into Charles.
Sweet, sweet, helpful and innocent Charles was about to join you in being in trouble with Sebastian. Of course, Charles would never believe you'd be a brat, you were just his good girl, and here you were manipulating that boy more than Ferrari.
"Help me?" You drop your legs slowly and spread them out, showing off how wet and puffy you were from how much you ached. "Awww love, did you get needy while Seb was gone?" Hook, line, and sinker. It was far too easy-to-get Charles to help you. "Yes, he's been gone so long and you're here and you know he'd be okay with you helping me. Please Charlie, I need you." Moving you flip each other where he's sitting on the couch and you're straddling his lap.
"Maybe we should wait for Seb," Charles hums, but you shake your head no. "Nooooo, you don't even have to fuck me, I'll ride your thigh, just please Charles, it hurts so much." You play at his emotions, making your eyes glossy, like you were about to cry. "Baby," He sighs, hands holding onto your waist and lowering you onto his thigh. "Fuck, but make it quick." Charles groans, feeling how wet you are, creating a damp spot on his sweats.
You gingerly move your hips back and forth, getting a good rhythm. Charles groans, holding your hips and helps you, but he moves around and wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you into him. He can't help himself and raises your shirt and sucks in one of your tits. Whimpering you move faster, feeling that tug in your stomach as Charles nips and sucks on your tits drawing you closer.
"Mhm, fuckkkk," You whimper practically bouncing on Charles thigh, the two of you are so wrapped up in each other, you don't hear the door open or close. Sebastian hears the moans and sighs, shaking his head in disappointment. "Charlie, fuck m close," You cry the two of you so wrapped up in each other. "You can cum pretty girl," He groans, fuck Charles was so hard he might even come untouched.
Sebastian gently puts down his bags and walks up to you. Charles groans and looks up about to greet the older driver when Sebastian reachs up and wraps his hand around your throat and picks you off Charles. "Nooo," You cry, feeling that little bubble burst before you could cum. "Tsk tsk tsk, I gave you specific instructions, which were what?" He groans, trying to control himself, seeing the utter mess that is Charles.
He has such a blessed-out face, that Sebastian feels his shorts grow tight, seeing the messy hair, swollen lips and the slight dark spot where Charles's cock had made it wet. "Not to touch myself, and I didn't Sebby. Charles was touching me," You beg, but Sebastian sighs and lets you go. "Baby, you're about to learn the hard way." Sebastian steps forward and gathers a healthy amount of Charles's hair.
"You're going to sit there, no touching, me, Charlie, or yourself. And you're going to do that, as I fuck Charles. Do you understand?" Sebastian asks, Charles moaning as Seb pulls on his hair, throat back as Sebastian groans, Charles being his sweet baby. "Please, please Sebby, I'll be good." You beg, hating this punishment.
"Nope, you were bad, Charles was innocent in all this, so I'm going to reward him. On your knees baby boy." Charles moves quick getting on his knees while Sebastian moves pulling down his shorts and pulls out his cock. "You're going to learn the hard way on how to be good, maybe then you'll finally learn your lesson." Charles groans and reaches out but Seb moves pressing his tip against Charles mouth who opens it happily and sucks his boyfriend down. "Now, be a good girl and watch how to suck cock properly." Sebastian groans, as Charles takes him down with ease.
#f1#formula 1#f1 fandom#f1 x reader#formula one#f1 imagine#f1 x y/n#f1 scenario#f1 blurb#f1 oneshot#f1 smut#poly!f1#charles leclerc#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc fanfic#charles leclerc smut#charles leclerc blurb#sebastian vettel x reader#sebastian vettel#sebastian vettel one shot#sebastian vettel imagine#sebastian vettel x you#sebastian vettel fanfic#sebastian vettel smut#sebastian vettel x reader x charles leclerc
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