#am i gonna explode from drinking this

[gelarshiesprofruitboarder]

what the fuck is firework flavor. faygo wdym by that.

[danysdaughter]

bucky seeing p0rn for the first time after the dating apps don’t work out👀

I'm deadddd, this was so vague so I just ran with it

The Education Of James Buchanan Barnes

pairing | post!tfatws!bucky x fem!reader

word count | 6.3k words

summary | when dating apps fail him and thirst traps become his downfall, bucky barnes finds himself spiraling down the internet’s most unholy rabbit hole—pornhub.

what starts as horrified research turns into full-blown obsession... especially when you, his sharp-tongued best friend, catch him red-handed and make very sure he lives out every filthy fantasy he’s been hiding.

tags | (18+) MDNI, smut, unprotected sex, rough sex, face sitting, breeding kink dirty talk, roleplay mentions, overstimulation, sexual humor, porn discovery, reader catches bucky watching porn, friends to very horny lovers, reader is a menace, teasing, flustered bucky, dom!bucky, subtle power play, consent is sexy, reader rides his face, doggy style, missionary? i hardly know her, mutual pining (solved by porn), no use of y/n, reader is a problem and bucky loves it, aftercare.

a/n | yeah, I definitely went overboard with this. I hope you freaks enjoy this

taglist | if you wanna be added to my bucky barnes masterlist just add your username to my taglist

likes comments and reblogs are much appreciated ✨✨

ᴍᴀsᴛᴇʀʟɪsᴛ

divider by @cafekitsune

You sipped your drink slowly, already biting the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing as Bucky glared into his beer like it had personally betrayed him.

“So,” Sam started, barely hiding his smirk. “How was the date with... what was her name again? Velvet? Vixen?”

“Vesper,” Bucky muttered, dragging a hand down his face. “And she asked if I’d be into choking her with my vibranium arm before we even finished our drinks.”

You snorted into your glass.

Sam leaned forward, grinning. “I mean... was she wrong?”

“Sam.” Bucky’s glare was instant, but mostly performative. “I just met her.”

You glanced at him over your glass, amused. “What app did you find this one on?”

He groaned. “The same one you said was ‘normal.’”

“No one said it was normal,” you said, raising a brow. “I said it was better than Tinder. That’s not a high bar.”

Bucky leaned back with a sigh, looking thoroughly done with the entire 21st century. “I miss when people met at soda shops and asked each other about their families instead of sending... pictures of their genitals.”

Sam barked a laugh. “Aw, poor Grandpa’s overwhelmed by the sex-positive future.”

“You know what’s not positive?” Bucky muttered. “The fact that I Googled ‘how to get back out of the dating app’ and it sent me to a subreddit with people just as confused as I am.”

You exchanged a look with Sam, both of you clearly enjoying this way too much.

“Have you... considered other ways to meet people?” you asked, trying not to grin. “Like not being a digital hermit?”

Bucky looked between the two of you, deadpan. “I’m this close to living in the jungle again.”

Sam raised his glass. “To Bucky Barnes, the only man who can bench-press a car but can’t survive Hinge.”

Bucky slammed his glass down—not hard, but with enough force to earn a side-eye from the bartender.

“I just don’t get it,” he muttered. “I’m trying to talk to these women like a normal person. I say, ‘Hi, how was your day?’ and one of them responds with—” he fumbled with his phone, squinting at the screen, “‘Send me a pic of the arm, baby, I wanna see what’s gonna rearrange my insides.’”

You choked.

Sam full-on cackled, grabbing his chest. “Wait—rearrange her insides? Yo, that’s poetry.”

“She sent a GIF after that,” Bucky went on, staring at the phone like it might explode. “A GIF. Of a hydraulic press crushing a watermelon. What does that mean?”

“I’m gonna die,” you wheezed, nearly spilling your drink. “She wants you to hydraulically press her coochie, Barnes. Come on.”

“I thought she was making a smoothie metaphor!” Bucky snapped. “And then another one asked if I was into CNC. I said I didn’t know what that meant, and she said ‘perfect.’”

Sam wiped a tear from his eye. “Oh my god—Bucky, you’re gonna end up in someone’s kink diary.”

“She sent me a TikTok about edging,” Bucky added, horror slowly overtaking his face. “I thought it was about gardening.”

You completely lost it, head in your arms on the table. “Please stop, I can’t breathe.”

Bucky scowled. “I’m serious! She said she wanted to edge me for hours, and I said that sounded peaceful, like a nice walk—and she sent back forty-seven emojis.”

Sam gasped between wheezes. “You’re getting sexted in hieroglyphics and you think it’s a hike, I’m begging you to never leave the house again.”

Bucky looked between you both, betrayal written across his face. “I survived Hydra. I survived seventy years of brainwashing. But I will not survive being called ‘daddy’ by a woman who lists her job as ‘freelance foot model and energy witch.’”

“Wait—did she have the crystals?” you asked, barely able to form the words.

He nodded grimly. “She said my aura was ‘screaming trauma kink.’”

Sam actually slid off the stool, wheezing on the floor.

He shut the door behind him with a dull thunk, then stood there for a moment in the silence. The kind that pressed in around the edges when no one else was around. Just him, the creak of the old radiator, and the words “rearrange my insides” still echoing in his head like a ghost.

Bucky sighed, tossed his jacket onto the back of a chair, and walked into the kitchen, opening the fridge as if disappointment wouldn’t be waiting there too. One beer left. Great.

He grabbed it, popped the cap off with his metal hand, and made his way over to his laptop.

It sat there on the table like a challenge.

He opened it. The familiar whir kicked on. A sigh slipped through his teeth.

“I fought in two wars,” he muttered to himself. “Survived Hydra. Took down a helicarrier. But this? This is the real enemy.”

He hesitated, fingers hovering over the keyboard.

Then he typed:

"What does CNC mean?"

Enter.

He leaned forward slowly, reading the top search result. Then the second.

His eyebrows pulled together. His mouth fell open just slightly.

"...Consensual non-consent?"

He clicked the link. Read further.

He leaned back in his chair like he’d just been shot.

“Why—why would anyone want that?” he muttered, scandalized. “That’s just... that’s just assault with permission.”

Still, he didn’t close the tab.

He opened a new one instead.

"Edging meaning (not gardening)"

More links. More acronyms. More trauma.

His face contorted in quiet horror as he scanned descriptions, diagrams, tips and techniques.

His beer sat forgotten on the table.

Eventually, he clicked a link that just said “beginner’s guide to porn kinks.” It was a blog. Fairly clinical. Until it wasn’t.

Then he clicked another.

And another.

Until eventually he wound up on a site with thumbnails—little videos with previews. Titles he didn’t fully understand.

He stared at one.

A girl, on her knees, mouth open, eyes wide.

Title: “Training My Pretty Submissive Brat”

He blinked. Then hovered. Clicked.

The video loaded.

He sat still, very still, as it started playing.

And then...

“What the hell—” he whispered.

The guy was talking. Dirty. Commanding.

The girl was moaning like someone had just whispered state secrets in her ear. She was calling him sir. Begging. Crying out when he—

Bucky slammed the spacebar to pause the video, hand clenched on the table.

He stood. Paced.

‘I shouldn’t be watching this,’ he thought, running his hand through his hair. ‘This is wrong. This is not—that’s not—’

He looked back at the screen.

Unpaused.

A few seconds passed.

He sat again.

Watched. Silent. Rigid.

His jaw clenched. His eyes darted across the screen like he was scanning enemy movement.

Then his hand—his metal hand—tapped the edge of the keyboard.

Paused again.

His chest rose and fell.

“I mean… he’s not hurting her,” he thought. “She’s asking for it. She likes it.”

Beat.

“And she’s loud.”

He sat back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest, glaring at the paused screen like it had insulted him personally.

Then he muttered, “Is that what people want now?”

He reopened the search bar.

"How to talk dirty in bed"

The search results hit him like a grenade.

By the third article, his ears were red. His fingers hovered over the trackpad like they didn’t know whether to scroll or just snap the whole laptop in half.

He clicked another video.

This one was slower. More intimate.

The woman straddled the guy’s lap, whispering in his ear. He growled something back, then pushed her down on the bed—

Bucky’s breath caught.

He didn’t even notice his hand moving under the table at first.

Didn’t notice the low groan that slipped from his throat when the man on screen said, “Good girl—just like that.”

He froze. Eyes wide. Mouth dry.

He swallowed hard.

“…I need another beer.”

But he didn’t move.

Didn’t stop watching.

Because something in him had been starved for this. For contact. For control. For someone wanting him, even in fantasy.

The next video autoplayed before he could stop it.

Another couple. This time, softer lighting. Moaning, whispered praise. Her back arched under his touch as he moved slow, deliberate, like every second was sacred.

Bucky swallowed hard.

He sat motionless for a full minute.

Then his hand drifted down.

Hesitant. Awkward.

He undid the button of his jeans, fingers brushing over the bulge in his briefs. The contact was enough to make his breath stutter.

“Jesus,” he whispered.

He shifted in his seat, pushed his jeans down just enough, and curled his hand around himself. Warm skin against cool air. His metal hand clenched uselessly on the table as the other moved slowly, uncertain.

The sounds from the video—soft, rhythmic, intimate—filled the room.

And Bucky gave in.

His eyes didn’t close. He watched—studied—the way the man touched her, held her, spoke to her like she was something precious and filthy all at once.

“Such a good girl,” the man murmured. “Taking all of me. Just like that.”

Bucky bit down on a groan, his hand moving faster now, hips twitching in his seat.

He imagined saying those words.

And then—

He imagined you.

Your voice, sharp and sarcastic, going breathy and soft when he touched you. Your legs around his waist. Your fingers in his hair. Your mouth whispering his name like it meant something.

And that thought—you, under him, with him—wrecked him.

He jerked harder, gritting his teeth, chest rising fast.

A low moan slipped out. Sharp. Uncontrolled.

His head fell back, eyes clenched shut as heat coiled in his gut. His body trembled.

One more stroke—

And he came.

Hard.

He let out a strangled noise, hips lifting off the couch, body seizing as white-hot pleasure shot through him. His hand slowed, milked every last pulse, until the aftershocks faded and all that was left was—

Silence. Reality. Shame.

His breath was harsh in his ears.

The screen was still playing.

The woman moaned, laughing, pulling the man closer.

Bucky stared. Then looked down.

At himself. At the mess.

At the way his hand was still wrapped around his cock, softening now, shame creeping in like a slow burn.

He let go like he’d been scalded.

The aftershocks hadn’t even faded before the guilt hit—cold and immediate.

Not from what he’d watched.

Not even from what he’d done.

But from who he’d seen in his mind while he did it.

You.

You, laughing beside him at the bar. You, rolling your eyes at his brooding. You, calling him “grandpa” and meaning it with affection.

You—beneath him, moaning, touching, giving yourself to him in the fantasy that had just ripped through his body.

His stomach twisted.

He yanked his pants back up, hands clumsy, face burning not with arousal now—but with shame.

“Fuck,” he muttered, pacing, one hand raking through his hair, the other clenching into a fist. “Fuck—what the hell’s wrong with me?”

You were his friend.

You were real.

And he’d just used the idea of you like… like some porn star on a screen.

His jaw tightened. He couldn’t look at the laptop. Couldn’t look at himself. He felt dirty—not because he’d touched himself, but because it felt like a betrayal. A violation of something pure.

He sat down heavily on the edge of the bed, elbows on his knees, head in his hands.

That hadn’t been just need.

That had been you.

And now he didn’t know how the hell he was supposed to look you in the eye again.

A Few Weeks Later

There was a knock at the door.

Three knocks, then a pause.

Then two more.

“Come on, Barnes,” your voice called through the door. “I brought sacrificial offerings.”

Bucky hesitated.

He sat in the dark, boots still on, bruised knuckles resting against his knees. His hoodie clung to him, sweat-damp and rumpled, his mind still halfway in the mission, halfway in the same loop it had been stuck in for weeks.

But it was you.

He got up slowly and opened the door.

You stood there with a paper bag in one hand, a six-pack in the other, grinning like you had zero intention of leaving whether he wanted you to or not.

“You gonna let me in or should I start monologuing like a Bond villain?”

He stepped aside without a word.

You strolled in like you owned the place, already heading to the kitchen with practiced ease.

“Brought dumplings, noodles, and enough alcohol to bleach the taste of both from your soul,” you said, setting things down. “You looked like someone clubbed you with your own metal arm last mission, so—figured I’d play nurse. A sexy, underqualified nurse with boundary issues.”

Bucky closed the door quietly behind you.

“You’re not a nurse,” he muttered.

“Not with that attitude.”

You popped the beers open, handed him one, then flopped onto his couch like you lived there. Legs kicked up, food containers opened without ceremony, your usual grin in place.

He stood a few feet away, beer untouched in his hand.

He hadn’t seen you in weeks—not really. He’d ducked every casual run-in, bailed on team movie nights, even ghosted your texts under the excuse of "needing space." He figured you noticed.

You just hadn’t said anything.

Until now.

You eyed him, casually, between bites. “You gonna sit down or do I need to pull you onto the couch like a Victorian housewife?”

He sat. Slowly. Farther away than usual.

You noticed. Of course you did. But you didn’t call him on it.

Not yet.

Instead, you nudged a container toward him and said, “Eat, soldier. You look like a sad, haunted lumberjack.”

And still—he didn’t say a word.

Because all he could think about, sitting beside you again after a month of silence, was the way your mouth had looked in that fantasy.

The way your voice had sounded moaning his name.

The way he’d used the memory of your real, friendly, teasing self to—

He swallowed thickly.

You kept eating, casual, sharp, familiar.

Exactly how he remembered. Exactly what made it so much worse.

You wiped your fingers on a napkin, leaned back, and gave him a look.

“Alright. You look like you’re two seconds from overthinking yourself into an early grave. Movie time. Something with violence or explosions—your love language.”

Before he could protest, you were already standing and heading toward his desk.

“Wait—” he said, starting to rise, but too slow.

You flipped open his laptop. “Let’s see what Grandpa Barnes has in his—”

“Ah—ahh—yes, please—!”

The moaning hit like a tactical nuke.

You froze.

So did he.

Both of you staring wide-eyed at the screen as the speakers screamed filth into the otherwise silent apartment.

Bucky moved fast.

Too fast.

He lunged over the couch, hand outstretched like he was taking enemy fire.

You dodged.

Smooth, practiced. Years of training paying off.

“No—” he barked, face already crimson, “Please—don’t—!”

“Oh my god—” you laughed, holding the laptop just out of reach. “Is this—is this Pornhub? Are you seriously—you are! You’ve been watching porn, you absolute degenerate.”

He groaned, dragging his hand down his face, mortified.

“Please give me the laptop,” he said, voice low, wounded, like you were holding a hostage.

But you were already clicking the spacebar, pausing the video mid-thrust.

“Oooh,” you said, squinting at the tab title. “‘Brat tamer destroys needy sub’? This is what you’re into?” You looked at him, eyebrows raised. “Bucky.”

“Stop,” he muttered, pacing now, hands on his hips. “I was—researching.”

“Researching what? The anatomy of a throatfuck?” you said, howling with laughter. “Brat tamer—are you even on Tumblr, old man?”

He looked like he wanted the floor to open and consume him.

“Do you know how much I regret every decision that led to this moment?”

You hugged the laptop to your chest dramatically. “I can’t believe you’ve been hiding this. The secrets. The shame. The kinks.”

“Give. It. Back.”

“Nope. Not until we find out if you’ve got a whole ‘rough dom Bucky’ fantasy folder stashed somewhere. You into praise? Degradation? Impact play? Knife play?”

He growled.

Actually growled.

And for half a second, it stopped being funny.

Because the way his eyes locked on you?

That wasn’t embarrassment anymore.

That was heat. Low. Dangerous.

You grinned, too drunk on the chaos to stop.

“Come on, Barnes,” you said, laptop still clutched like a prize. “Own it. You like a little bratty backtalk? You want someone to whimper please while you tell her she’s being a bad girl?”

He was still pacing, but slower now. Controlled. Coiled.

You didn’t notice.

You were too busy poking the bear.

“Is that what you’re into?” you teased, stepping back. “All that repressed soldier shit finally coming out in dirty little commands and throat grips?”

His eyes met yours. Still embarrassed, sure. But behind it? Something sharper. Something hungry.

“Y’know,” you added, tone light, teasing, “I always pegged you as more of a soft dom. Gentle hands. Lots of praise. But this? This is dark. Kinda filthy. Kinda hot.”

That did it. He moved.

Fast.

Faster than he should’ve.

One second, you were smirking with the laptop; the next, it was out of your hands, clattering to the couch. You were against the wall, chest rising, his body a breath away from yours.

His hand planted next to your head.

His voice low. Controlled.

“Enough.”

You stared at him. The air was suddenly thick. Your heart thudded once, hard.

“You think this is a joke?” he asked, eyes burning into you.

Your mouth parted, but no sound came out.

“You think I don’t know you’ve been toying with me since the moment you walked in?”

That teasing smile faltered—just a little.

“You keep pushing,” he murmured, leaning in, breath brushing your jaw. “You laugh, you flirt, you play. But you don’t realize... I’ve thought about you. In ways I shouldn’t.”

You swallowed.

Hard.

“I know what I watched,” he went on, voice rough, low, dangerous. “I know who I imagined.”

Your breath caught.

His eyes dropped to your lips.

Then back up.

And when he spoke again, it wasn’t a threat.

It was a promise.

“You want to see what I’m into?”

You blinked up at him—cornered, caged—but not afraid.

Not even close. Your smile crept back, slower this time. Calculated.

“Oh,” you murmured, tone shifting. “You imagined me?”

Bucky’s jaw tightened.

His silence said everything.

You pushed your palms slowly against his chest, feeling the way his body tensed under your touch. Solid. Barely held together.

You leaned in, lips brushing just beneath his ear.

“So tell me,” you whispered, voice low and coaxing. “If you’ve already pictured it, Barnes... what did I look like?”

He exhaled harshly through his nose.

You didn’t stop.

“What was I doing?” you went on, dragging your fingers down the curve of his chest. “Was I on my knees? Bent over? Did I ride you while you begged for it?”

A choked sound left him—more breath than voice.

You smiled against his neck. “Or do you want to tell me what you were doing to me?”

His hands twitched at his sides.

You could feel it—the war inside him. Guilt, hunger, restraint. And under all of it, the ache.

“Go on, James,” you whispered, using his real name like a secret. “Tell me. What do you like?”

His head dropped forward, forehead nearly touching yours.

A beat passed.

Then another.

And then—

“I want you on top,” he breathed, voice ragged. “I want you to sit on my face and ride it until your legs give out.”

Your eyes fluttered closed for half a second.

That was not the answer you expected first.

His voice deepened, like now that he’d started, he couldn’t stop.

“I want you on your knees, begging. I want to fuck you from behind so deep you forget your own name. I want to feel you come around me and not stop. I want to stay inside you.”

His breath hitched. His hands were fisting at his sides.

“And when I’m done, when you can’t even move anymore—I want to come in you and keep coming until you’re full of me. Until it’s dripping out of you.”

Your thighs clenched instinctively.

Your nails curled tighter into his chest.

And your voice, still low, still teasing—but now breathy, just slightly—said:

“Damn, Barnes. That’s a whole lot of filth for someone who didn’t even know what edging was last month.”

Your last teasing whisper hadn’t even left your lips before Bucky moved.

One second you were pinned between him and the wall, and the next, his hands were on your hips, gripping tight. Then the ground disappeared beneath your feet.

You gasped as he lifted you—easily, effortlessly—hauling you against his chest like you weighed nothing.

“Jesus, Barnes—” you started, but his mouth was already on yours.

It wasn’t a kiss. It was a claim.

Hot, rough, needy—his lips crashed into yours with the force of every filthy thought, every sleepless night, every moment he’d spent imagining your mouth, your body, your sound. His teeth scraped your bottom lip. His tongue pushed past yours. There was no hesitation. Just heat.

You moaned into it, hands threading into his hair, pulling him closer even as he carried you down the hall.

Your back hit the wall once, then the doorframe, and then—

The bed.

He dropped you onto it like a man starved for touch. The mattress creaked beneath you, sheets rumpled and cool against your skin as you propped yourself up on your elbows, breathless and grinning.

Bucky stood at the edge of the bed, looking at you like you were his undoing.

You tilted your head, voice low and mocking.

“Is this the part where you get all commanding, Sergeant? Or are you gonna make me do the work?”

His jaw clenched. He stepped forward. Then dropped his weight onto the bed, climbing over you, hands already at your thighs, dragging you down the sheets toward him.

“I told you not to push,” he growled.

You smiled, voice syrup-sweet.

“And I told you I liked pushing.”

His hands slipped under your shirt, yanking it over your head in one smooth motion. Your bra was next, tossed aside without ceremony. He ducked down immediately, mouth hot against your collarbone, then lower—kissing, biting, devouring.

You gasped, head falling back as his mouth found your breast, tongue circling your nipple before he sucked it between his lips, hard.

And still—you teased.

“Careful, Barnes. Gonna make a mess before you even get inside me.”

He looked up at you.

Eyes wild, hungry, dark.

And then he dragged your jeans down—fast, rough, like he didn’t have the patience for anything else—and crawled up between your legs, pressing his body to yours until there was nothing between you anymore.

“Then shut up,” he growled, grinding against you, his cock thick and hard through his jeans.

“Make me,” you whispered, pulling him down by the collar.

And he did.

His mouth was everywhere—jaw, neck, breasts, stomach—kissing, biting, groaning like he couldn’t get enough, like he didn’t know where to start because he wanted all of you.

Then he pulled back, breathing hard, eyes raking over your body like a man finally allowed to look.

“Get up,” he rasped, voice dark and thick with want.

You blinked up at him, dazed and grinning. “What?”

He sat back on his heels, hands gripping your thighs.

“I said get up,” he repeated. “I want you on my face.”

Your breath caught.

Dead serious.

You didn’t question it. Didn’t tease.

Instead, your lips curved into a slow smile as you shifted, sitting up, climbing over him with fluid, easy confidence.

“As you wish, Sergeant.”

That name hit him like a punch to the chest.

His hands guided you—firm, reverent, needy—until your knees were braced on either side of his head, your body hovering just above his lips.

He looked up at you like a man who’d prayed for this moment.

And then?

He pulled you down.

No hesitation.

Just mouth.

Hot, wet, desperate—he groaned the second he tasted you, tongue already lapping through your folds, lips sealing around your clit like he was starving.

Your head tipped back with a sharp gasp, fingers flying into his hair as your hips bucked against his mouth.

“Fuck—Bucky—”

He growled in response, hands gripping your ass, holding you down, keeping you there.

You rocked against him instinctively, gasping as his tongue flicked and circled, licked and sucked. He was moaning into you, mumbling things you couldn’t even make out—except for one word that hit clear, over and over:

“Mine.”

You looked down at him, eyes wild, mouth open.

His eyes met yours.

Dark. Glazed. Possessed.

You could see the man he used to be—the soldier, the weapon—but right now?

Right now he was just yours.

And you were his.

You couldn’t stop moving.

Couldn’t stop grinding against his mouth, against his tongue, the pleasure slamming through you in waves, harder and sharper with every flick, every suck.

Bucky moaned beneath you, the sound filthy, shameless, needy—like your taste was saving him from something dark and deep and buried.

His hands held you tighter, guiding your hips as you rocked against his mouth, your thighs trembling around his head.

“Fuck—fuck—” you gasped, one hand gripping the headboard, the other buried in his thick, messy hair. “Don’t stop—don’t you dare stop—”

He didn’t.

If anything, he doubled down—lips sealing tighter, tongue working you harder, sloppier, his groans vibrating against your clit like a live wire.

He wanted this.

He wanted to suffocate on you, drown in you.

And you gave it to him.

Because when you looked down, saw those glassy, desperate blue eyes staring up at you, pleading for more, there was no holding back.

The coil snapped.

Your whole body locked as the orgasm ripped through you, sharp and searing, your hips jerking uncontrollably against his mouth.

“Bucky—” you cried, voice cracking, thighs clamping around his head as you came—hard.

He didn’t let go.

He held you there, arms wrapped around your thighs, mouth still working you through it, licking and sucking every shudder, every twitch, like it was a gift.

You collapsed forward, one hand braced on the headboard behind his head, the other still clutching his hair, your body wrecked, shaking, soaked.

And when you finally opened your eyes—chest heaving, heart pounding—you looked down at him.

His lips were wet, chin glistening, eyes blown wide with hunger.

He looked like he could live there. Like he’d happily die there.

And all he said, voice hoarse and full of worship:

“You taste like heaven.”

You were still trembling when he sat up behind you, hands stroking your thighs, your hips, slow and reverent like he needed to remember the feel of you.

“You good?” he rasped, voice wrecked from moaning into you.

You nodded, barely catching your breath, lips curving into a slow smile.

“Still waiting for that doggystyle fantasy to come true, Sergeant.”

That was all it took.

He growled low in his throat, grabbing your hips, flipping you effortlessly onto your stomach. Before you could even laugh, his hands slid under your body and lifted your hips high, chest pressed down into the mattress.

You moaned, the stretch in your spine perfect, delicious.

He leaned over you, his breath hot at your ear.

“This how you want it?”

You arched your back, ass pushing against him. “This is how you want it.”

He growled again—low, deep, possessive.

“Exactly how I want it.”

Then you felt him—his cock, thick and hot, dragging through your soaked folds, the head catching on your entrance.

He didn’t push in yet.

Just rubbed, slow, deliberate, teasing.

You whimpered, tried to push back.

He gripped your hips tighter.

“Not yet,” he murmured. “You’re gonna feel all of it.”

Then—he pushed in.

Slow at first, but deep, the stretch burning in the best way as he filled you, inch by thick, pulsing inch.

“Fuck—” you moaned, hands clutching the sheets as he bottomed out.

He held still once he was fully inside.

Like he was savoring it.

Like this—being buried in you, your body wrapped tight around his—was what he’d been starving for.

Then he moved.

Pulled out halfway.

And slammed back in.

You cried out, the sound muffled by the sheets as he started thrusting, each snap of his hips harder, deeper, rougher than the last.

His hands gripped your waist like you were his anchor.

His rhythm brutal, relentless.

He fucked you like he meant it—like he’d dreamed of this for weeks, like every fantasy had led to this.

You were gasping, moaning, clawing at the bed.

“Look at you,” he panted behind you. “So fucking tight—taking me so good.”

You couldn’t speak.

Could barely breathe.

And when his hand snaked around to rub your clit, you screamed his name.

He didn’t let up.

Just pounded into you harder, faster, until the sound of skin meeting skin filled the room, filthy and loud and perfect.

He was so deep in you.

Deeper than anyone had ever been—physically, yes, but also fully. Like this was where he belonged. Like this was where you belonged.

His hips rolled, the angle perfect, his cock dragging against that sweet spot inside you with every rough, claiming thrust.

And his voice—low, wrecked, filthy—poured right into your ear.

“You like that, sweetheart?” he growled. “You like being on your knees for me?”

You whimpered, nodding, voice breathless.

“Yes, Bucky—fuck—so much.”

He leaned over you, chest flush to your back, still moving inside you—slow now, torturously deep, like he wanted to feel every pulse of you clenching around him.

“Yeah, you do,” he whispered, lips brushing your ear. “My good girl. So fuckin’ wet for me. You were dripping on my face—you know that?”

You moaned, your body shaking, ass pushing back into him.

“I saw you,” he said, his rhythm stuttering just to drag the next thrust out longer. “When I told you to sit on my face? You didn’t even hesitate. You just gave it to me.”

You gasped as his hand slid down your back, curving over your ass, squeezing.

“And now you’re letting me fuck you like this,” he went on. “Taking every inch like a good little cocksleeve. You want me to fill you up, don’t you?”

You shuddered, squeezing around him so tight he groaned.

“Yes,” you panted, shameless. “Fuck, Bucky—fill me up—please—I want it.”

He slammed into you harder, rhythm picking up again, fast and unforgiving.

“That’s it,” he growled. “That’s what I like. You begging. You dripping. You mine.”

You cried out, bracing yourself against the mattress as he drove into you faster now, hand slipping beneath to rub your clit again.

“Say it,” he hissed. “Tell me who you belong to.”

“You,” you choked. “You, Bucky—I’m yours.”

He groaned deep in his throat, thrusts faltering for a beat like the words knocked something loose in him.

Then he grabbed your hair, gently but firm, pulling you up just enough to kiss your neck—bite it—then whisper:

“When I come, I’m gonna stay inside you. Gonna keep you full for hours. Walk around dripping with me.”

You whined, thighs shaking, the pressure building again—faster, sharper.

“Bucky—please—”

His voice was a growl, low and thick with promise.

“Come for me.”

And you did.

Hard.

Your whole body clenched around him, your scream muffled by the sheets as the orgasm ripped through you, sharp and messy, your walls fluttering around his cock.

Your moan was still echoing when he grabbed your waist, pulling you back—up, off the bed, into his lap.

You barely had time to gasp before you were straddling him, his chest pressed flush to your back, his mouth at your neck, and his cock still inside you.

“Not done,” he growled, arms locking around your waist. “Not until I come in you.”

Then he thrust up into you—hard, deep, devastating.

You cried out, your body already overstimulated, every thrust hitting that perfect spot inside you all over again. His hands were everywhere—gripping your hips, spreading your thighs wider, keeping you open for him as he pounded up from beneath you with bruising rhythm.

“Fuck—Bucky—” you whimpered, hands flying back to clutch at his hair, his shoulder, anything.

He was relentless.

Grunting with each thrust, hips snapping up into you, his breath ragged against your ear.

“Feel that?” he rasped. “How deep I am? How you’re still so fuckin’ tight?”

You nodded, moaning, body jerking with every thrust.

“You’re gonna take it,” he hissed. “Every drop. I’m not pullin’ out—you hear me? I’m comin’ inside you.”

“Yes,” you gasped, barely able to speak. “Please—Bucky—fill me up—”

He groaned, deeper than before, thrusts losing rhythm, his grip bruising on your hips as his body started to shake.

“Fuckfuckfuck—gonna come—”

One last thrust—brutal, final—and he buried himself in you, arms tightening, head thrown back as he came hard, deep inside you.

You felt it.

Hot.

Thick.

Flooding you as he groaned your name, holding you tight in his lap, still pulsing inside you.

And he didn’t let go.

Didn’t move.

Just stayed there—buried—chest rising against your back, his breath warm at your neck, whispering,

“You’re mine.”

You collapsed forward onto the bed, body still twitching with aftershocks, breath ragged and uneven. Bucky followed, slow and heavy, staying close, still inside you for a moment longer like he couldn’t stand to let you go just yet.

Eventually, he pulled out with a soft groan.

You whimpered at the loss, hips squirming on instinct.

He stayed behind you for a second, hovering—eyes locked on the way his release slowly dripped out of you, sliding between your thighs and onto the sheets.

You could feel him watching.

You tilted your head back with a lazy grin. “If you’re gonna stare like that, at least have the decency to offer a towel.”

He huffed a rough laugh—half-exhausted, half-stunned. “Sorry. Just... didn’t wanna forget what that looks like.”

You stretched like a cat, all smug satisfaction and afterglow. “Yeah, well. Take a picture next time, Barnes.”

He leaned down, kissed your shoulder—soft, slow, grateful—then flopped beside you, dragging the sheet up over your tangled bodies.

His arm wrapped around your waist, warm and heavy.

Neither of you spoke for a minute.

Just the sound of your breathing slowing. Your bodies cooling.

Then he murmured, voice quiet against your skin, “You’re in my head now.”

You smiled, eyes drifting shut.

“Good,” you whispered. “Took you long enough.”

You lay there, tangled together in the warm quiet, your body still thrumming, skin slick and flushed. Bucky’s arm was wrapped around your waist, his breath slow against the back of your neck, lips occasionally brushing your shoulder like he wasn’t even conscious of doing it.

You grinned.

Couldn’t help it.

“So…” you said, voice casual. “How long you been jerking off to me, Barnes?”

He froze.

You felt the heat bloom off him before he even said a word.

“Don’t.”

Your grin widened. “What? It’s a fair question. Based on how fast you devoured me, I’m guessing… at least a month?”

He groaned into your shoulder. “You’re the worst.”

“I’m right,” you countered. “Don’t think I didn’t catch the way you almost cried when I said ‘as you wish, Sergeant.’ You’ve been unwell.”

He muttered something unintelligible and buried his face in your neck.

You rolled to face him, propped on one elbow, smirking as you traced a line down his chest.

“So, tell me,” you purred. “Now that you’ve got a taste... what do you want to do to me next time?”

His throat bobbed.

You waited.

“I dunno,” he mumbled.

“Oh, you know.” Your nails lightly scratched his ribs. “Come on, be brave. Tell me.”

He grumbled. “You’re gonna use it against me.”

“Correct,” you said sweetly. “Now spill.”

He exhaled slowly, then muttered:

“...Sixty-nine.”

You grinned. “Classic. What else?”

He covered his eyes with one hand. “Breeding.”

Your eyebrows lifted, delight flashing in your eyes. “Oh? Really leaned into the ‘stuff me full, Sarge’ angle, huh?”

“Shut up.”

“I won’t, actually,” you laughed, leaning closer, lips brushing his ear. “Anything else you wanna act out, Barnes? Any other dirty little fantasies you been keeping locked up?”

He hesitated.

Longer this time.

Then—reluctantly, quietly:

“...Roleplay.”

You blinked.

Then broke into a slow, wicked grin. “Okay, now this I need to hear.”

“Nope,” he said immediately, trying to roll away. “That’s enough honesty for one night—”

You climbed on top of him, straddling his hips, pinning him down with a devilish smile. “Tell me if I need to show up next time in a pencil skirt and glasses, or if I should wear that SHIELD catsuit and call you ‘Sir.’”

His eyes snapped open.

And you knew.

You gasped. “Oh my god. You have a thing for the whole ‘secret agent mission gone sideways’ scenario, don’t you?”

He groaned, dragging a hand over his face. “Please stop.”

“You want me to cuff you to a chair and interrogate you,” you went on gleefully. “Or, wait—no—you want to interrogate me.”

“I’m begging.”

You leaned in, lips brushing his ear. “You want me in red lipstick and a wiretap, don’t you?”

“I’m never telling you anything again.”

You leaned down, lips brushing his.

“I’m gonna make all your little roleplay dreams come true,” you whispered.

“Kill me now,” he muttered.

“Nope. Gotta save your energy. You’re not done with me yet.”

You grinned, smug and sated, curling down against his chest, eyes closing as his arm wrapped around you again.

And beneath your cheek, you felt him smile.

[kxsagi]

Idk if this have been done before or not but blue lock boys of your choice (hopefully with sae, isagi and aiku) with a very flirty reader but when it comes to the real thing just short circuit?? Like they're all bark but no bite type of thing (me frfr) Reader saying stuff like "I'll take you home tn pretty😘", "What do you want to do first? Eat, bath or me😜 Isn't that what japanese women say to their husbands??" or "I'm so delicious yk" (and yes if you're curious I did say this to my friends and I don't have a love life😔)

“𝐫𝐢𝐳𝐳 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭”

a/n: i am obsessed with you. you are the final boss of flirt-to-faint pipeline and i will write this with my whole chest

ft. isagi yoichi, itoshi sae, aiku oliver, karasu tabito, nagi seishiro, kaiser michael, itoshi rin, shidou ryusei

isagi yoichi

you're sitting on a bench, hand under your chin, giving him the most dramatic eyes ever. 

"yoichi, when are you gonna stop playing soccer and start playing me?" 

he CHOKES mid-bite of his sandwich. you’ve been doing this for weeks. he’s used to the pickup lines, the little winks, the "what if i kissed you rn lol jk... unless?" energy. 

but today? oh he’s had ENOUGH. 

“what if i did kiss you right now?” 

silence. 

you blink. your brain hits a blue screen error. 

"what?" 

"you always say that stuff. so what if i actually did it?" 

you panic. 

you THROW YOUR OWN SANDWICH AT HIM. 

“don’t do that. i’m too delicate. i’ll combust. i’ll faint on the spot.” 

he cackles. absolutely loves how you can be a flirt and a coward at the same time. 

he starts throwing your lines back at you. suddenly isagi’s texting you at 1 AM like “i’m so delicious you know 🤤” and you’re clutching your pillow screaming into it. 

itoshi sae

you always flirt with him when he’s least expecting it. like when he’s brushing his teeth. or doing taxes. 

"sae, when are you gonna marry me so i can kiss you good morning every day and give you little bento boxes that say ‘good luck, honey’?" 

he's brushing his teeth. he’s staring at you in the mirror like you’re a walking headache. 

“you want to kiss me every morning?” 

“... no. that’s not what i said. i don’t even know you like that. who are you.” 

you run. flee the scene. 

sae chases you down the hallway with his toothbrush still in his mouth. “say it again, coward.” 

you’re under a table texting rin for backup. 

bonus: sae starts quoting your pickup lines when you least expect it. 

"what do you want to do first? eat, bathe, or me?" he says this deadpan in a restaurant and you drop your drink. 

aiku oliver

THE WORST ONE TO FLIRT WITH. DO NOT DO IT. HE WILL FLIRT BACK. 

you walk up to him during practice like, “i brought you water, pretty boy. drink it and think of me.” 

he takes the bottle, winks, and goes, “sure, babe. if you’re what hydration tastes like, i’m gonna need gallons.” 

you explode. your brain does not have the processing speed to handle oliver aiku. 

“i’m kidding! i’m KIDDING! we’re friends! i’m just a silly little guy!” 

“silly little guys don’t call me pretty with that much eye contact.” 

he lives for your flirty lines and the way you instantly crumble when he flips the script. 

“hey, gorgeous.” 

“please be serious i have a weak heart.” 

he’s constantly calling you out. “you told me i was ‘so hot you wanted to risk it all’ yesterday. and now you’re turning pink because i called you ‘cutie’?” 

yes. yes you are. 

karasu tabito

he thinks your one-liners are HILARIOUS. 

he flirts back once and you hit him with the “who said that. don’t make me take this seriously” defense mechanism. 

“you said you wanted to lick whipped cream off my abs yesterday.” 

“i was JOKING.” 

“you had a whipped cream can in your hand.” 

he starts keeping score. 

flirty lines from you: +1. 

your panicked denial after: +10. 

he 100% makes a powerpoint for your birthday called “top 10 times you flirted like a menace and ran away from consequences.” 

slides include quotes like “tabi if you were dessert i’d never skip dinner again” and your reaction when he said “okay then, bite me” (you fainted, it was dramatic). 

nagi seishiro

he doesn’t understand flirting. but he does understand that you turn bright red every time he repeats your lines. 

you: “sei, you’re so fine i’d let you ruin my life.” 

nagi: “okay. how do i do that?” 

you: “what do you mean how do you– HUH??” 

“do i just sit on you or something?” 

you scream into the void. 

he genuinely thinks your flirty lines are just jokes. until one day he mimics your tone and says, “i’m so delicious, you know?” 

and you combust. you literally trip over the couch. 

“don’t do that. you’re not allowed. only i can be the menace here.” 

“but you get all weird and sweaty when i do it. it’s funny.” 

he’s addicted now. whenever you flirt, he just gives you bedroom eyes and goes “mm, yeah, me too.” 

you haven’t known peace since. 

kaiser michael

you flirted with him ONCE and he hasn’t let you live it down since. 

you were feeling bold one morning and went, “you’re so fine, i’d let you break my heart and still say thank you.” 

kaiser didn’t even blink. just leaned in, cocky smirk and all. 

“then let’s not waste time. bed or balcony?” 

YOU SHORT-CIRCUIT SO HARD YOU HIT HIM WITH YOUR BAG. 

“I WAS JOKING. GOD HAS ABANDONED ME.” 

he lives to watch you crumble. you’re a walking contradiction and he’s obsessed. 

starts intentionally flirting back just to see the panic in your eyes. 

“hey, pretty boy.” 

“i’m prettier in bed, you know.” 

“WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU. RESPECT YOURSELF.” 

he respects you so much he tells everyone your pickup lines. “this one once told me ‘i’m so delicious you’ll never want another meal’ and then choked on air when i said ‘bon appétit.’” 

you hate him. you also flirt with him again the next day. it's a sickness. 

itoshi rin

the most dangerous game. 

you flirt with rin purely because he reacts like a cat staring at a laser pointer. pure judgment. 

“rin, if we lived together, would you want to eat, bathe, or do me first?” 

he stares. unimpressed. “i’d move out.” 

you laugh it off like “haha okay cold prince.” 

but then one day, he breaks. 

you say something like “you should let me sit on your lap during team meetings. i’m cuter than your teammates.” 

and he goes, “fine. try it.” 

silence. 

“WHAT.” 

“you said it. don’t back out now.” 

and you just evaporate into thin air. 

your soul leaves your body. rin’s casually holding open his arms and you’re hitting the eject button on life. 

and ever since that day, rin casually flirts back just to mess with you. 

“don’t say things you can’t commit to,” he says every time you flirt. “or do you want to prove it this time?” 

you’ve never known fear until rin calls your bluff. 

shidou ryusei

you flirt with him because you thought he’d be too unhinged to take it seriously. you thought wrong. 

first time you said “i’m hotter than hell, baby. want a taste?” he said, “yeah, let’s start with your thighs.” 

YOU FROZE LIKE A WINDOWS ERROR POPUP. 

“WH– I– NOT LIKE THAT–” 

“nah you started this. now i’m invested.” 

every time you flirt now, he takes it as a personal challenge. 

you say, “you’re so hot it’s actually disrespectful.” 

he winks. “cool. wanna get on your knees and teach me manners?” 

YOU PASS OUT. 

he fans you with a plate like “bro what happened to all that confidence?” 

he calls you "flirty mcfragile" behind your back. and to your face. 

“what’s up, bark-and-no-bite?” 

you ban yourself from flirting around him but he bait-flirts you like it’s a sport. 

“damn, i look good today. don’t you want to say something sexy to me?” 

“NO. YOU’RE EVIL. STOP BAITING ME.” 

"can't help it. i’m just so delicious, y’know?" 

shidou uses your own lines against you like a weapon and you're too weak to stop him. 

© 𝐤𝐱𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢

[eevyerndracaneon]

God fucking dammit

Guess I'm slapping the tw here

Extremely Dramatic Bitching in the tags. Youve been warned.

[wispitty]

(short reacts) | "you confess when you're totally shitfaced drunk" + one piece men

summary: you had WAY past your drinking limit and now you're just exploding with LOVE for him.

characters: crocodile, mihawk, marco, ace, shanks, law, corazon

CROCODILE

You’re swaying in his arms, eyes glossy, cheek pressed against his chest.

“Croco-babyyy…”

“Don’t call me that.”

“I LOVE you.”

He goes rigid.

You grab the front of his shirt.

“Like SOOO much. Like, if someone tried to stab you, I'd bite them. Right on the ankle.”

You squint.

“Your scary lil hook hand is soooo cool, I love it. You're my favorite angry man.”

He malfunctions. Literally just stares at you like you're an alien who dropped from heaven.

“You're drunk.”

“I'm in loveeeeeeee!”

You pass out mid-hug.

He just stands there. Frozen.

Mutters:

“...What the hell am I supposed to do with that.”

(Spoiler: He tucks you in and sits there watching you sleep like a guard dog with heartburn.)

MIHAWK

You cling to his arm like a koala. You’re warm and soft and talking a mile a minute.

“You’re sooo handsome. Like, it’s RUDE actually. I have to look away sometimes cause you’re too hot and I feel like I’m gonna die.”

He blinks.

“You’re intoxicated.”

“I’m INTO YOU.”

He blinks again.

You poke his chest with a pout.

“Do you know how annoying it is to like someone who looks like a vampire prince and has very judgmental eyebrows?”

He raises one.

“THAT.”

Then you melt into his coat and sigh.

“I love you sooooooo much… If you asked me to run away and start a farm I’d do it. For you. I'd plant cucumbers.”

He doesn’t sleep that night.

MARCO

You climb into his lap like a sleepy kitten.

“Marrrrrrcooooo…”

“Yeah, baby?”

You press your forehead to his.

“I love you SO much it’s dumb. Like, I wanna kiss your face and also cry and also buy you matching socks.”

He laughs softly.

“That’s a lotta feelings, huh?”

“It’s not my fault your smile makes me feel like life is worth living.”

He actually covers his face because holy shit that one got to him.

“I’m gonna fucking die, yoi.”

“Noooo you’re not, I love you too much. I won’t let you die. I’ll protect you with SOCKS.”

You fall asleep on him mid-rant.

He kisses your hair and whispers:

“You’re killin’ me, songbird.”

ACE

You run up to him and tackle-hug him.

“ACE I HAVE SOMETHING TO SAY!!”

“Wha—?!! Are you okay?!”

“I’m in love with you.”

“YOU’RE WHAT?!”

“Like a lot. Like, if you turned into a plant I’d water you.”

He’s already spiraling. Red. Stammering. Sweating.

“I—uh—what?! When?! Why?!!”

“Cause you’re cute and warm and you make my tummy do loop-de-loops.”

“SO DO YOU!!! WAIT—NO—WHAT AM I SAYING?!”

“Okay, wait, but would you love me if I was a worm?”

You both pass out cuddling under a table with Ace going into specific details about he'd take care of you if you were a worm and how you'd take care of him if he was a plant.

Sabo finds you both crying and whispers:

“Idiots. They deserve each other.”

SHANKS

You stumble in. Red-faced. Teary-eyed. Drunk on rum and love.

“Shanks…”

“Here we go…”

You grab his coat.

“I’m gonna say something crazy.”

“Hit me.”

“I’m in love with you. Like, I’d kill a seagull for you.”

“...That’s a weird standard but I’ll take it.”

“And I think your laugh is sexy. And your scars are cool. And your nose is NICE. And I’d marry you. Right now.”

He pauses.

Smiles.

“Say it again tomorrow when you’re sober, sweetheart.”

“Okay. But you’re mine now.”

“Deal. By the way, what’s your ring size?”

LAW

You shuffle in with a flushed face and a stuffed penguin.

“Trafalgaaaar…”

“Don’t slur my name.”

“I love you.”

He looks up from his book like you just summoned an ancient evil.

“Excuse me?”

“So much. You’re smart. And hot. And I like your hands. And your voice. And if you died I’d start a cult.”

“...A what.”

“A cult. With matching outfits. And hats.”

“You’re fevered.”

“I’m in love.”

You lean on his shoulder and then pass out on his lap.

He doesn’t move for two hours.

CORAZON

You run into him mid-giggle.

“ROSINANTEEEE!!”

He flails.

You grab his face and kiss his cheek.

“You are the love of my LIFE. Your laugh is cute. Your coat is STUPID but I LOVE IT. I love YOU.”

He goes full tomato. Tears are already streaming down his face.

You write “I’D DIE FOR YOU” on a sticky note and slap it to his chest.

Then immediately fall asleep in his arms.

He’s crying and hugging you and writing down “I LOVE YOU TOO” over and over and over.

He genuinely just loves you so much.

[lazysoulwriter]

meant to be - drew starkey. (part 2)

so happy that i've got so many requests for a part two! so here it is. read part one first!

---

Drew had been gone for months.

Months without his hands on you. Without his stupidly pretty face pressed against your neck. Without him making you laugh like you're the center of his whole damn world.

But now? He was back. And you were never letting him leave again.

"Missed you," Drew murmured against your skin, his voice all soft and raspy, like he hadn’t slept properly since the day he left.

"You keep saying that," you teased, dragging your fingers through his hair.

"And I’ll keep saying it," he shot back, kissing down your jaw, your neck, your shoulder. "I’ll tattoo it on my forehead if you want."

You snorted. "Very romantic."

"I am romantic," he argued, propping himself up on his elbows, his blue eyes drinking you in like he was parched. "I’m literally whispering sweet nothings into your skin right now."

You raised an eyebrow. "Saying ‘missed you’ over and over isn’t exactly Shakespeare, baby."

Drew groaned dramatically, burying his face in your chest. "You kill me."

You laughed, letting your fingers trace the muscles in his back, feeling the warmth of his skin. He was here. Finally. And finally yours.

And neither of you could stop touching.

His hands skimmed your waist, your ribs, your stomach—like he had to memorize every inch. And honestly? He kinda did.

Months apart had been hell.

Sure, you FaceTimed every day, texted nonstop, sent each other stupid selfies and voice notes and "look at this, it reminded me of you" messages.

But it wasn’t this.

Wasn’t his body tangled with yours, his breath warm against your lips, his hands everywhere at once.

He pressed a kiss to your collarbone, then another. Then another.

"You’re unreal," he muttered, trailing kisses over your shoulder. "Like, actually unfair. I leave for a few months, and you somehow get hotter?"

You rolled your eyes, pushing at his chest. "Shut up."

"Make me," he challenged.

So, obviously, you kissed him—slow and deep, like you had all the time in the world.

And for once, you did.

Because there was no more pretending. No more "just friends." No more biting your tongue when someone asked if there was more between you two.

The whole world already knew.

Because the second Drew landed, he kissed you like it was the only thing keeping him alive. And the paparazzi caught everything.

The airport photos were everywhere. Your arms around his neck, his hands gripping your waist, the way he completely lost himself in that kiss—like it was years in the making.

And the internet? It exploded.

"THE WAY HE GRABBED HER. OH MY GOD.""We just witnessed a REAL-LIFE best-friends-to-lovers moment, I’m gonna scream.""This wasn’t a kiss, this was a CLAIMING.""You can see the moment he decides he’s never letting her go again."

Drew had seen the tweets.

Had seen the TikToks, the memes, the edits of your kiss set to the most dramatic love songs imaginable.

He didn’t care. (he loves it)

"Let them watch," he murmured now, nuzzling into your neck. "I don’t care anymore."

You smiled, running a hand through his messy hair. "No more hiding?"

"Not from them," he promised, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your lips. "And definitely not from you."

And then he kissed you again. And again.

Because he could.

Because he missed you.

Because he was yours.

And this time, he wasn’t going anywhere.

---

[hy6erion]

viktor and jayce fighting over you??

𝐔𝐧𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐧 𝐑𝐢𝐯𝐚𝐥𝐫𝐲 - 𝐕𝐢𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐫 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐉𝐚𝐲𝐜𝐞

⇢ 𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐲/𝐧, 𝐠𝐧! 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐

𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐚 𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥 𝐟𝐢𝐜 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐥𝐦𝐚𝐨

1. The Scientific Method (or How to Win You Over)

It starts subtly—at least, as subtle as Jayce can manage.

“You know,” he says, leaning against your desk, broad shoulders blocking your view of the latest schematics, “I was thinking—you and I should go out sometime. Just the two of us. For research purposes.”

You don’t even have time to process before Viktor, seated across from you, speaks without looking up from his own work.

“Research into what? The effects of secondhand embarrassment?”

Jayce shoots him a glare. “Into team bonding, Viktor.”

“Mm. And what hypothesis are you testing? That you can single-handedly drive them to madness?” Viktor hums, scratching something in his notes. “A bold assumption, but I suppose it is not entirely unfounded.”

Jayce turns back to you, ignoring him. “Dinner. Drinks. Maybe some—”

“A headache,” Viktor mutters.

Jayce groans, running a hand down his face before pointing at you. “You. Pick a side here.”

You exhale, setting down your pen. “I don’t even know what we’re arguing about.”

“We aren’t arguing,” Viktor says at the same time Jayce huffs, “We are arguing.”

You stare at them both. They stare at each other.

This has been happening for weeks.

It’s not always this obvious—sometimes it’s in the little things, the way Viktor always ensures your coffee is warm but lets Jayce suffer with whatever’s left in the pot. Or how Jayce somehow always has an extra set of tools whenever you’re missing yours, grinning like he wasn’t just waiting for the opportunity.

And the way they bicker—gods, it never ends.

“Fine,” you say, leaning back in your chair. “Jayce, we can do dinner. And Viktor, you can join.”

Jayce groans, throwing his head back. “Not the third-wheel invitation—”

“I accept,” Viktor interrupts smoothly.

Jayce turns to him, expression wounded. “Dude.”

“You do not own them, Jayce.”

“Neither do you!”

Viktor just smiles.

You take another sip of your coffee. This is going to be a long night.

2. The Art of Winning (or Just Being Petty)

“Y/n, my dearest, most trusted lab partner,” Viktor says, sidling up next to you while you’re examining some blueprints. “You are an artist of unparalleled skill. Would you mind assisting me with some designs?”

You raise an eyebrow, but before you can answer, Jayce materializes from across the room.

“Woah, woah, hold on, I was just about to ask them for help.”

Viktor tilts his head, feigning confusion. “Just about to? How convenient.”

Jayce narrows his eyes. “You knew I was gonna ask them—”

“Mm. And yet, I asked first.”

“That doesn’t—”

“Time is linear, Jayce. Surely you understand this.”

Jayce looks ready to explode.

You pinch the bridge of your nose. “You both know I have other work to do, right?”

They don’t. They definitely don’t.

But Jayce recovers first, flashing you his most charming smile. “C’mon, you know I have the bigger project right now—”

“Size does not determine quality, Jayce,” Viktor interrupts. “By that logic, your brain should be much more effective.”

Jayce’s jaw drops. “Did you just—?”

“Mm?” Viktor takes a slow sip of his tea.

You sigh, turning away before you witness a murder. “I’m flipping a coin. Heads, I help Jayce. Tails, I help Viktor.”

Jayce’s shoulders relax. “That seems fair.”

Viktor hums, noncommittal.

You flip. The coin lands. You glance at it.

Then, you slap it onto your palm before either of them can see and say, “I’m helping myself today.”

Viktor huffs a quiet laugh, and Jayce groans, dropping his head onto the nearest surface.

“Brilliant,” Viktor murmurs. “I am rubbing off on you.”

Jayce mumbles something into the desk. You pat his shoulder in consolation before walking away, leaving them to their stalemate.

3. The Heart of the Matter (Or: Maybe They’re Not as Subtle as They Think)

At some point, you begin to wonder if they even know what they’re fighting over.

Because it’s not just lab work. It’s not just projects, or coffee, or who gets to sit next to you during meetings.

It’s you.

And they’re both smart enough to know it, even if neither of them says it outright.

It’s in the way Jayce’s gaze lingers whenever you laugh, like he’s memorizing the sound. The way Viktor’s voice softens when he murmurs your name, careful, like he knows the weight it holds.

It’s in how they both wait for you at the end of the day, pretending it’s just coincidence.

It’s in the way Viktor watches Jayce’s arm brush against yours and says nothing, but his fingers tighten around his cane. In how Jayce watches Viktor pull you in to murmur something close and he says nothing, but his jaw tenses.

It’s in the way neither of them will ever say it—but neither of them will yield, either.

And you?Well.

You just let them fight.

[meeraonpole]

Twitch Steams : LN4 X Y/N

Summary: Lando goes live on Twitch, but his stream takes a cute turn when you bring him food. Chat instantly falls in love with your presence, demanding you stay. After giving up his chair for you, the two of you share adorable moments, jokes, and laughter while chat spams heart emojis. By the end of the stream, it’s clear—Lando might be the streamer, but you’re the real star.

Lando had just booted up his Twitch stream, a cheeky grin on his face as he greeted the thousands of viewers flooding into chat. His headset sat slightly askew on his messy curls, and his hoodie was oversized as always.

"Hello, hello! What's up, chat?" he said, adjusting his mic. "We’re back at it today. Gonna play some tarkov, maybe some Valorant later. Who knows?"

The chat was already going wild, messages flying past at an unreadable speed:

"Lando, why are you always late?"

"McLaren merch WHEN?"

"Why does your hair always look like you just fought a tornado?"

Lando chuckled as he scrolled through the messages. "Alright, alright, calm down. I was like—only five minutes late today, which, in my world, is early, okay?" He clicked into his racing setup and got ready for a few laps, but before he could even get started, there was a soft knock at his door.

"Uh-oh, who's that?" he mused aloud, glancing toward the door. "Hold on, chat, someone’s about to interrupt our very serious business."

A moment later, the door creaked open, and in walked you, holding a plate of food in one hand and a drink in the other. Lando’s face immediately lit up.

"Oooooh, look at that, chat! Delivery service has arrived!" he said dramatically, leaning back in his chair.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help smiling. "You’ve been sitting here for hours, Lando. You need to eat."

"What did I do to deserve you?" he asked, taking the plate from you. "Wait, did you make this, or did you just steal it from the kitchen?"

You scoffed, placing the drink down next to him. "Rude. I made it, obviously."

"Chat, do we trust this?" Lando asked, pretending to inspect the food suspiciously. Cue the flood of messages.

"Trust her, Lando."

"Y/N best girlfriend confirmed."

"Lando, if you don’t eat that, we riot."

You laughed as you backed toward the door. "Alright, I’m leaving you and your weird little fan club alone. Enjoy your food, superstar."

Lando pouted dramatically. "You’re not gonna stay? Chat, tell her to stay!"

Chat immediately spammed:

"STAYYY."

"Y/N COME BACK."

"Lando is 100x cuter when you're around."

You shook your head. "No, you guys have fun. I’m not stealing your spotlight."

And with that, you disappeared out of frame, leaving Lando to sigh dramatically before stuffing a forkful of food into his mouth. "Well, chat, there goes the love of my life, abandoning me in my time of need."

But the chat wasn’t letting it go.

"CALL HER BACK."

"We need Y/N content!"

Lando groaned playfully. "Alright, alright, fine! You guys are so needy. Let me—wait, I have an idea."

He reached for his phone and called you, putting it on speaker. After a few rings, you picked up.

"What now?" you asked teasingly.

"Chat is basically threatening to riot if you don’t come back," Lando said, grinning. "So, congratulations, you’re famous."

You sighed dramatically, but he could hear the smile in your voice. "Fine. But only for a little bit."

Seconds later, you reappeared in the room, and Lando immediately got up from his chair. "Here, take my seat."

You frowned. "But where are you gonna sit?"

"Don’t worry about it," he said, walking off camera. Moments later, he dragged in another chair from across the room and plopped down next to you. The chat exploded.

"HE GAVE UP HIS CHAIR FOR HER."

"THE BARE MINIMUM BUT WE LOVE HIM FOR IT."

"Boyfriend of the year, confirmed."

Lando grinned as he read the messages. "See, chat, I am a gentleman. Give me some credit!"

You chuckled, leaning back in the chair as Lando scrolled through chat. "You guys are too much."

"They love you," Lando said, nudging you playfully. "More than they love me, actually. Should I be concerned?"

"Very," you teased.

The two of you continued streaming, answering silly questions and joking around. At one point, Lando leaned his head on your shoulder dramatically. "Chat, I’m exhausted. Y/N, take over."

You laughed, adjusting the headset. "Alright, guys, what’s up? Welcome to my stream now. First order of business: roasting Lando."

Chat loved it, spamming:

"FINALLY, THE TAKEOVER."

"Roast him, Y/N. He deserves it."

Lando gasped, sitting up. "Okay, no, this was a terrible idea. I take it back."

You grinned, poking his cheek. "Too late, superstar."

The chat was going wild, and Lando couldn’t stop smiling at you. He reached over and intertwined his fingers with yours under the table, unseen by the camera but enough for you to squeeze his hand lightly.

Eventually, Lando stretched and yawned. "Alright, chat, I think we’re gonna call it a night. Y/N has stolen my stream, my chair, and my dignity, so I think it’s time to go."

You smirked. "Pretty sure you lost your dignity a long time ago."

Chat spammed "LMAO" as Lando put a hand over his heart in mock offense. "Wow. Chat, did you see that? My own girlfriend betraying me on live stream."

You grinned, leaning into him just a little. "They saw nothing."

The chat exploded again, filled with heart emojis and messages like "GET MARRIED ALREADY" and "CUTEST COUPLE ON TWITCH."

Lando glanced at the screen, then at you, a soft smile tugging at his lips. "Alright, chat, love you guys, but I think I’m gonna go spend some time with this one now."

"Finally," you said, standing up. "Took you long enough."

He rolled his eyes but reached for your hand as he ended the stream, the final words from chat being:

"PROTECT THEM AT ALL COSTS."

"Lando, you better treat her like a queen."

"This was the best stream ever."

And as Lando shut his PC down, he looked over at you, grinning. "See, told you they love you more than me."

You shrugged. "Well, can you blame them?"

With a laugh, he pulled you closer, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead. "Nope. Not even a little."

Tbh I don't really like this one but its ok don't really have anything else to say but yea enjoy the rest of your dayyyy

oh lemme know if there are any errors

[27spoons]

Something to Try | Natalie Scatorccio

summary: A college party and some drinks with your best friend! What could possibly go wrong or irrevocably change your relationship?

pairing: natalie scatorccio x fem!reader

based on: pretty girls - reneé rapp

warnings: smut (afab!reader), internalized homophobia (nat), period typical homophobia (if you squint), alcohol consumption, ambiguously queer!reader, angst in my pants

a/n: i have not written smut in YEARS so this is... like... me getting back into it. i apologize in advance 😭🙏

wc: 5020

part two / ao3

Somewhere between Philadelphia and New York City sits a white two-story house in the middle of a nice suburban neighbourhood. Shitty speakers blast terrible dance music through the walls, and you're already wondering why the neighbours haven't called in noise complaints to the county. 

"Well, at least it isn't a frat house this time." You mutter with a scowl, crossing your arms and looking at the scene from the sidewalk.

The girl standing next to you scoffs and shoves her hands in the pocket of her leather jacket, "Y'know, if you're gonna bitch the whole time, you could go back to your dorm…"

"I am not—" You huff and roll your eyes, "I am not going back to the dorms. Let me bitch every now and then."

"You bitch constantly." She returns your eye roll, "There is never a moment in time you are not bitching about something."

You uncross your arms and shove at her shoulder, "You're a prick. Now I'm gonna bitch about you, Natalie. Is that what you wanted?"

"Yes. Because that means you're talking about me, and that feeds my ego." Nat says with a firm nod of her head, unable to hide the dumb grin on her face as she walks with you up to the front door of the house. "So, to clarify, you can only bitch if you're bitching about me."

"One day, I worry your head will explode with how big it's getting." You open the door to the house, and the stench of cheap booze and stale cigarette smoke immediately assaults your senses. "Oh, I lied. This is basically a frat house."

Nat laughs as she steps in behind you, "Nah, this place looks like it has working toilets in all bathrooms. Can't be a frat house." She glances around, eyes searching through the clusters of people scattered around the house. Her face lights up when she apparently finds someone she wants to see, and she turns to face you. "Hey, I'm gonna chat with Kev for a little while, but I'll catch up to you later, yeah?"

You sigh and wave her off, "Yeah, yeah. Just try not to forget I'm here this time."

She gives you an overdramatic gasp, a hand flying over her heart, "How dare you. I would never forget you're here." She's already taking steps back to talk to Kevyn, "You're always my top priority; you should know that by now." She shoots an easy wink at you, then vanishes into the groups of people in the living room.

Well. You really don't know what you were expecting. Nat has a tendency to vanish off to smoke weed or do drugs with a few of her friends, and you don't know why you thought tonight would be any different.

Oh, well. Might as well go see how your friends are doing.

About an hour and three Zimas later, a familiar presence makes herself known by pressing right up against your side. "Told you I wouldn't forget about you." Nat grins to herself, "C'mon. Let's get a drink."

"I'm not done mine—" She's already got your arm in a firm grip and tugging you away from your group of friends. 

"Fine. Then I can get one, and we can go smoke after. Either way, you're coming with me."

"I was in the middle of a conversation…" A whine leaves your throat, but you do nothing to stop her from pulling you to the destination she has in mind. 

"We can start a new conversation with some alcohol. Away from all the people." For all the parties that Natalie attended, you always found it funny how she preferred to stick to the edge, watching from the sidelines. If it wasn't for the fact she was a starter on the soccer team, she'd probably be considered a wallflower. 

Natalie drags you into the kitchen, where the air smells faintly of spilled beer and lime. She lets go of your arm long enough to rummage through the countertop clutter, successfully locating a half-empty bottle of vodka. “Classy,” she mutters, grabbing a plastic cup and pouring herself a generous splash before topping it with soda.

Her eyes flick to you as she takes a sip, leaning casually against the counter. “You’re way too sober to be at a party like this.”

"Mm, trust me, I'm working on it." You raise up the half-empty can you've been nursing for the past fifteen minutes. "You, on the other hand, seem far too eager to get drunk." A sip of your drink, "Like, more eager than usual. And you're already pretty eager to get shitfaced." 

Nat scoffs and rolls her eyes, gesturing with her head for you to follow her. "Yeah, well, we played a good game today. Won by two goals. Maybe I'm celebrating." She quips as her shoulder pushes the backdoor open. 

But… something in her tone feels off. You can't quite place it, but the words sound slightly strained. Maybe it's because you've known her so long, or maybe she's just getting more obvious, but you swear you see a small crack in the mask she so often wears in public.

"Nah, you're being weird tonight." You murmur, eyes narrowing as you appraise her behaviour. "Why are you being weird tonight?"

"I'm not being weird tonight." She scoffs and grabs a crumpled pack of cigarettes from her pocket, "Maybe you're hallucinating. Take any pills tonight?"

You frown, "Natalie."

She sighs and looks away like a child being chastised. "You're so pushy sometimes." She passes you a cigarette, "Jus' thinkin' about things."

"What things?" You lean against the wall beside her and take the smoke with a slight nod of thanks, letting her light the end for you once it's placed between your lips. "Anything I can help with?"

Nat hesitates momentarily as she lights her cigarette, clearly debating if she should actually speak about what's on her mind.

It takes her half of whatever she dumped into her cup, a handful of drags from her cigarette, and more than a few huffs of frustration on her part.

"You're… I mean… you're into chicks, right?"

You pause on the inhale of the smoke, then proceed to cough it out in surprise at the line of questioning. "Jesus—" A few more coughs, you waving the smoke away from your face. "That's what you wanted to ask me?" You shake your head and blink a few times, "Yeah, uh, I thought I told you that I was into chicks, like, ages ago."

"No, uh, you did." She waves her free hand dismissively, "I… sorry. I didn't—" She groans in frustration, "I think it's cool."

"Cool?" You parrot.

"Yeah." She says immediately, "I just… I think it's cool that you're open with yourself about that stuff." Nat brings her thumb to rub at one of her eyebrows, "Just… we don't talk about stuff like that." She shrugs, "Guess I just wanna check in now and then."

Confusion finds its way onto your face, and you shake your head as you try and put the pieces together of why is she asking this stuff right now? "You… you sure that's it?" 

Her facade seems to crumble further as she takes another drag from her cigarette, "Nah, I just…" She glances up at you, "I dunno. If I was gonna, I think you'd be the one I tried."

Your eyes fly open at that comment, because… what???

Your brain short-circuits for a second, trying to process her words. “Wait… what—” You blink and shake your head a few times, trying to pull yourself back together. 

"Don't worry about it." Nat interrupts quickly, "I didn't say anything." She snubs the cigarette out on the wall behind her, no longer meeting your gaze.

"No… no… don't do that." You shake your head and push off the wall, heart pounding so hard you can feel it, "You did say something. You can't just… throw that out there then pretend that you didn't say it."

She finishes the rest of her drink and drops the butt of the cigarette into the empty cup, "God, you're annoying sometimes. Just… forget I said anything, okay?"

"No… I'm not gonna forget you said that. 'cus I know you. You wouldn't just… say something like that." You take a step closer, "So if you're gonna say something, say it."

The blonde seems frustrated at the development in the conversation, and for a moment, you worry she's gonna completely shut things down and pull away, but instead, her expression softens. "I don't know." Looking down at her boots, she murmurs, "I don't know what I'm saying. I just… think about it sometimes. About you."

"Like… me? Specifically?" You shake your head, still in shock at this revelation.

A bitter laugh escapes Nat's mouth, "Don't make me spell it out." Her gaze finally meets yours again, and you swear your breath hitches at the sudden tension between the two of you.

"Natalie…" You start, but before you can say anything else, she's cutting you off and closing the difference between you.

"Shut up." She mutters, and then her lips are on yours—urgent, messy, and laced with the taste of vodka and cigarette smoke.

You freeze at the contact, eyes widening even further. This is not how you expected tonight to play out, and yet… you can't find it in you to pull away.

Despite yourself, you kiss her back, quickly matching her intensity. Her hands find their way to your hair as yours find their way to her waist, pulling you closer as the kiss deepens.

When she finally pulls back, her breathing is uneven, and her eyes are wide, like she can't believe what she just did. "Shit…" she whispers, running her fingers through your hair.

"What… what the hell was that?" You ask in disbelief, still trying to catch your breath.

"I told you," her trembling voice betraying the smirk tugging at her lips. "If I was gonna… you'd be the one I tried."

You swallow down the sudden lump that's appeared in your throat, "I don't… this…"  You don't even know what you're trying to say, but you're trying to form coherent phrases. "What?"

A beat of silence as her eyes flick from your eyes to your mouth again, "Do you wanna be the one I try?" She asks quietly, continuing to run her fingers through her hair, making you far weaker than you should be. 

"Natalie…" You manage, voice barely above a whisper. She's close now. Too close, really. Close enough that this could complicate everything and—

Her lips are back on yours.

That's enough to shut your thoughts up.

At some point during this exploratory makeout session, some obnoxious douchebag wolf whistles at the two of you making out, to which Nat promptly flips him off and starts pulling you inside the house.

"Come on." Natalie laughs as she tugs you into a spare bedroom, "I need you alone. Without assholes with a God complex interrupting us." She closes and locks the door to the bedroom. When she turns and looks at you, her lower lip is caught between her teeth, and her green eyes have a dangerous glint. 

The second the door is locked, the reality of the situation sets in. Are you really about to do this? Are you really about to… God, what are you even gonna do here? Natalie is looking at you like you're a tall glass of water and she's dying of thirst. Meanwhile, you're looking at her like a damn deer in the headlights. 

"For the record," She adds, "I'm not… this isn't…" She gestures between the two of you, "This is just some fun. Like… you know I'm not gay, right?" 

She doesn't give you a chance to answer that before her lips are on yours, and she's walking you back to the edge of the bed, pushing you down and straddling your waist. "Just to blow off some steam." She murmurs as her lips move to your neck, pressing wet kisses against the soft skin.

If you had half a mind right now, you'd probably say something like, "Straight chicks don't willingly do stuff like this with other chicks," or "I see multiple issues with that logic," but it's hard to form replies when her tongue is tracing along your pulse point, and her lips are oh so warm against your skin.

You vaguely think about all the times you've thought about this happening—but that's just it. They were just supposed to be thoughts. You never actually expected to end up in bed with Natalie—let alone her being the one to initiate it—but here you are, all the same.

"Nat—" You finally manage once you remember you need to breathe, "You—"

She pulls back briefly to tug her shirt over her head, and all rational thought vanishes out the window (along with the last shreds of the restraint you had—if you even had any, to begin with), and she moves her hands to tug off your shirt, which you eagerly help her remove.

"I'm so happy you came to the party." She whispers in awe as her hands trail up and down your torso in appreciation, "God…" Her hand stops to cup your breast, and you find yourself arching into her chest subconsciously. 

She looks down at you like you're an experiment—which you are, really—or something to decipher and explore. But, honestly? You're sorta willing to be her experiment right now, even if a part of you knows this will hurt the both of you come morning.

"I wasn't gonna come, you know?" You murmur back, letting her map out your body under her surprisingly careful fingers, "I just… didn't see the point."

"That's your issue, yeah?" Nat replies back just as quietly, "You always think too much rather than just doing. Life is so much more fun when you stop overthinking everything." She brushes her thumb over your clothed nipple, which causes you to let out a small gasp, "And sometimes you talk too much when you should be doing other things. Like this." Her hand leaves your chest and joins her other one behind her back, unclasping her bra and letting it fall down her shoulders.

"Oh, fuck." It's your turn to be awestruck now. "God, you're so…" Your hands trail up her body, running up her sides, her head falling back and a sigh spilling from her lips. "Fucking beautiful. So fucking beautiful." You stop to cup the underside of her breasts, earning a sound of approval from the girl on top of you as she begins to roll her hips against yours slowly.

"Yeah…" Nat breathes out, "Little higher…" She grabs your wrists and moves your hands on your behalf, placing them directly overtop her breasts, "Don't be afraid to touch me, not fragile…"

"Wasn't afraid," You reply as you squeeze gently, "was just trying to take my time. Not rush the good stuff."

She scoffs out a laugh, "Maybe I want you to rush to the good stuff; think of that?"

"Nah, that's no fun. Foreplay is half the excitement. Gotta build tension."

"Tension's been building all night." She rasps with a roll of her hips, "So don't give me that bullshit."

"Fine. Maybe I just want to take my time. Think of that?" You roll a nipple between your thumb and pointer, grinning to yourself at the way she gasps and her hips stutter at the sensation. "I like to play with my food before I eat it."

A low chuckle spills from deep in Nat's chest at your last comment, "Jesus, you're terrible. Has your dirty talk always been this bad?"

"Yep." You respond immediately, "Just another thing I'm skilled at, really."

"Really?" She looks down at you, an assumed smirk on her face. "What other things could you possibly be skilled at?"

You grin right back at her. That was exactly the reply you wanted. And she says your dirty talk is terrible. You're just always five steps ahead, really. 

"If you'd let me show you, I've been told my fingers and tongue are pretty talented." You grin wider when she blushes despite herself, "And, honestly? I kinda wanna show you."

Nat scoffs to hide how flustered she is at your teasing, "W-what? Is this the part where you tell me that I've been "missing out," too?"

"Oh, I wasn't gonna say anything. You were the one that did that."

A beat. 

You laugh.

"Oh my God. Shut up." And her lips are back on yours before you can protest—not that you would want to, anyways—and you're kissing her back in a heartbeat, her hands leaving your wrists to rest on your collarbones, thumbs tracing the lines of your bra strap.

Your hands find their way to Nat's hips, squeezing the soft flesh there and encouraging their movement as her tongue slides its way into your mouth.

Things move fast after that. You aren't quite sure when she manages to take your bra off, and she isn't quite sure when you managed to get her pants off, but before either of you can think about how fast things are moving, you're both making out in nothing but your underwear.

For one of the first times in your life, you're realising that you're the more experienced one when it comes to this sort of thing. Nat's never been with a girl before, giving you the upper hand. 

Something you fully plan on exploiting. 

You end up shifted so that she's laying flat on the bed under you while you're propped up on an elbow next to her, using your free arm to run your hand down her body as the two of you continue this heated makeout session you've been in for the past… however long you've been in this room.

When your fingers begin to tease the edge of her panties, Nat gasps and deepens the kiss further, with one of her hands curling around the nape of your neck as the other comes to rest on your shoulder. Which, well, seems like consent if you've ever been given any.

You let your fingers trail under the waistband and lower still, grinning into the kiss when you feel her push herself into your hand despite the fact you haven't even touched her yet. 

"Don't be a tease." Nat whines into the kiss, earning a low laugh from you.

"Not teasing. Just taking my time, is all." You properly brush your fingers against her, delving into the warmth but never quite going where she wants you to.

"No, you're being a fucking tease!" She whines again, more petulantly, her nails digging into your shoulder.

You click your tongue at that, "And you're a lot needier than I thought you'd be, Scatorccio. Can't spend five minutes doing some foreplay?"

"What I want to do is spend my time—" You cut her off when your fingers brush against her clit, a feral grin spreading across your features. 

"You were saying something, Nat?"

"Oh my God. Shut up." She repeats for the second time tonight, pulling you in for another kiss, using the hand on the nape of your neck to aid in her agenda. 

After you decide you've teased her clit for a suitable amount of time, you slide your middle and ring finger down the length of her wetness, then proceed to tease her entrance in slow circles. Nat bites on your lower lip in retaliation for what she still deems as "teasing," but is quick enough to soothe the bite with her tongue.

"You know," You murmur as you break the kiss, pulling back to watch her face, "I think you're gonna enjoy this."

She scoffs, "Yeah, that's sorta the point, dipshit."

"Mm, not what I meant." You sink those two fingers inside of her, enjoying the way her breath catches, and she arches into your touch. "I think you're gonna really enjoy this."

"You've got a big head." She starts rocking her hips against your hand, the motion causing the heel of your palm to rub against her, "You gonna… gonna… back that up?"

"I think I already am, honestly." You murmur back as you begin to move your fingers, "Did you even notice you were humping my hand?" Based on how her hips stutter for the slightest moment, the answer was probably no.

"Is all you do tease?"

You laugh at that, slowly figuring out what she likes based on her reactions to what you do, "Mhm. It's my favourite part of this." You pull your fingers back just as she seems to be really getting into it, which earns you a confused whine, but you don't give her long to worry about it.

You start at her lips, then slowly work your mouth down her body. Admittedly, you spend a little longer than needed lingering in the valley between her breasts, but who can really blame you? They're nice, and you've spent far too long wondering what it would be like to be between them.

You continue moving south once Natalie lets out a frustrated huff and pushes at your shoulders slightly, your lips pausing just under her belly button, glancing up at her for one last okay before you go this far.

She gives you her approval in the form of a slight nod, and you immediately hook your fingers in the waistband of her panties and tug them down once you have it.

You trail your mouth up her leg, starting from her ankle and moving upwards, only slowing down once you reach her thighs.

"Such a fucking tease…" Nat mumbles to herself when you slow down, so you nip her thigh in some form of retaliation at her impatience. 

"Good things come to those who wait." And you tease her longer, purposefully avoiding her aching center just to prove your point.

When she starts tugging at your hair in frustration, you finally relent, flattening your tongue and dragging it through her folds once, then twice, then pull back for a moment to look at her. 

"Goddamn." You murmur, "We're gonna have fun." You press a chaste kiss to her clit, then immediately dive in, nuzzling your nose against it as your tongue presses in. 

Truthfully, you've always liked it a little messy. You don't think Nat minds in the slightest. In fact, one might even say that she prefers it when it's sloppy.

Pornographic slurping sounds fill the small bedroom, coupled with the sharp inhales Nat takes every time you do something she really likes, and you decide you really like those sounds, making it your sole mission to have her make as many of them as possible.

When you move your mouth up to attach to her clit, you replace your tongue with two fingers, delving them back into the warm heat of her pussy. You hum in appreciation at the gasp she makes as you work your fingers in tandem with your mouth.

Nat, you've noticed, isn't very vocal. That's fine; she doesn't need to be. Not when her hips keep rocking against your face. Not when her eyes are shut, and her face is contorted in an expression of pleasure. Not when one of her hands is trembling atop her mouth in a poor attempt to stifle those small sounds. 

You pick up on what she likes really quickly, trying to keep your eyes trained on her face as long as possible. Knowing that you're the one making her look like that. You really didn't need the ego boost, but you'll take it anyway.

She lets you know she's about to come with her hand moving from your hair to smack your shoulder a few times, a shaky "F-fuck—" spilling from her lips and her back arching off the mattress. You double down on your actions to get her there, and when her thighs clamp down on either side of your head, you let yourself grin.

Natalie isn't one to give herself time to wind down, however.

Once she finishes riding out her climax, she's immediately tugging you up to mash her lips against yours, rolling you over so you're lying on your back instead of her.

"Mm, wait—" You push her shoulder back when one of her hands goes to trail down your body, "You don't have to… I don't need you to "repay the favour"—"

"I want to." Nat cuts you off, pressing her lips against your neck and working her way down your body. "And, for the record?" She pauses and looks up at you when she reaches your collarbone, "I'm a fast learner." She grins and continues moving her mouth lower, fingers hooking in the waistband of your underwear.

"Fast learner." You huff out as you lift your hips for her, allowing her to tug your panties down your legs and discard them somewhere off to the side. 

"Yeah," She agrees as she sits back on her knees, "Real fast learner, actually. And I doubt it's that much different than going down on a guy." A beat, "Who knows? Maybe I'll learn something that could be useful in my… future endeavours." 

You bristle slightly at the comment, an uneasy feeling gripping the back of your neck for a reason you can't quite place. "Nat—" And, much like you were doing to her, she cuts you off by attaching her lips straight to your clit, causing you to gasp in shock at the sudden sensation. "F-fuck!" You hiss out. While it's not a bad sensation—far from it— it is unexpected and bypassing any and all forms of teasing. 

Nat seems to delight in the sounds you're making and continues her exploration of your pussy. She pays eager attention to your clit at the beginning before realising that she should probably attend to other areas as well, and promptly doing just that.

And, hey, she was right. She is a fast learner. And an eager one, at that.

Her fingers dig into the meat of your thighs with bruising strength, forcing them open and refusing to let you budge from her hold even slightly. And, in true Natalie fashion, she's just as messy about it as you were, never one to be outdone. 

However, unlike you, she doesn't seem content to spend the whole time going down on you. She pulls back and pushes her hair out of her face, "God, I wanna try something—" She moves to straddle one of your thighs and presses her own up against your center, hands coming to rest on your shoulders.

"Shit," You murmur as your hands find purchase on her hips, "You sure you haven't been with a chick before? You sure seem to know what you're doing…"

"What can I say? I've done some research here and there." She lets out a low laugh that turns into a breathless sort of moan as her hips roll against your thigh, pushing her thigh further against you in turn. 

"Holy fuck, you're so fucking wet," Nat says in astonishment, her head falling forward as you begin rocking against her thigh. "Goddamn…"

"Yeah, you're not any better." You reply breathlessly, "Gonna fuckin' make a mess on my thigh…"

She rakes her nails down your chest and lets out a noise you're pretty sure is supposed to be a growl, "That's the idea. Already made a mess of your face, might as well ruin another part of you." And her lips are back on yours before you can come up with some sort of retort.

You two move against each other with urgency, breaking the kiss to rest your foreheads together as you breathe heavily. 

Natalie digs her nails into your waist, lips attaching to your neck again as she continues to rock her hips against your thigh. 

It's a mess of animalistic grunts and X-rated gasps that fill your ears. The noises, combined with her lips on your neck and the way she's oh so desperately moving against your thigh? You can't help yourself. It might be one of the hottest things you've ever witnessed. 

The woman on top of you comes first with a sharp gasp followed by a low groan. Then, upon realising you still haven't, her fingers replace her thigh, moving with intention.

"Fuck—" You arch up into her hand, "Shit, you don't have to—"

"Shut up." She whispers against your skin, "Let me make you feel good."

And, well, who are you to say no to the girl with her hand between your thighs?

By the end of the evening, you're more relaxed than you've been in a long time. Nat is lying loosely on the bed beside you, her hand playing with your fingers. 

"Weren't lying." She murmurs after a long silence between you two, seemingly lost in thought.

"Not lying about what?" You prop yourself up on an elbow, looking down at her as she sighs quietly.

"Really enjoying this." Her voice comes out soft, and it almost appears that even she seems surprised at the words. "I just… I don't know. It was fun."

You smile to yourself at that and squeeze her hand, "Yeah." Despite the haze of lust and alcohol that clouds your mind, at least, that is something you can agree to.

Morning.

The first thing you notice? You have a killer headache.

The second thing? This isn't your bed.

The third thing? You're alone in this bed.

Last night crashes over you in waves. Images of Natalies flushed face underneath you. The way she seemed almost eager to be with you in that way.

The sheets still smell faintly of her—a mix of smoke and something warm, something hers. You reach out instinctively, fingers brushing the cool, empty space beside you. She’s gone. Of course, she’s gone. You should’ve known better.

Last night replays in your mind: the way her hands gripped your shoulders, her voice a low whisper against your skin. You could’ve sworn, for just a moment, she wanted you. Needed you. But maybe that was just the vodka.

Maybe it was just the vodka.

a/n: this is so much longer than I thought it would be and yet not long enough

tragic

[chrisfawns]

the girlfriend effect. . .all the ways matt and chris change after getting a girlfriend

꒰ ੭ ꒱ ᐣ matt. . .starts sleeping more 💌🍵🎀

it's a well-known fact that matt doesn't sleep at night. he sleeps the next day. it's not unusual for nick or chris to get up at 5 am to get water, only to see a sliver of light still coming from under matt's door. he's either on the computer, watching tv, or simply pacing, waiting until his body is so exhausted that he has no choice but to sleep.

after you, though? matt's in bed at a solid eleven pm. you're tucked safely into his side, head against his chest. he'll nuzzle his stubbly chin into your hair as you yap about your day until you fall asleep mid-sentence, following you into dreamland shortly after.

now, matt's up before the clock hits noon. his shoulders don't slump with exhaustion anymore; instead, he's awake, dressed, and looks more alive than he ever has. his eyes aren't plagued with dark bags anymore and he has energy now.

ଘ꒰ ꒱ chris. . .drinks more water 🏹🐇🪞

shocked was an understatement. the internet practically exploded the first time they saw it. chris' usual car video soda had been replaced by a bottle of water. in fact, it became such a regular occurrence that even nick and matt were shocked.

"what?" chris asks, looking up to see matt staring at him like he's got two heads.

"you're drinking water?" matt asks, staring at the new, blue stainless steel water bottle that's on the counter next to his brother.

"yeah?"

"since when?"

"since my girl said i had to." chris shrugs, going back to his phone.

before long, chris' water bottle is covered in stickers from places you and him have visited together, cartoon characters, and just about any other sticker you had. the bottle becomes such a regular part of car videos that even you can't resist cracking a joke or two in the comments about the "girlfriend effect".

᧔ ᧓ matt. . .takes an ego sick day 🍰🤍🍓

if you didn't know matt sturniolo, you'd think he was simply a shy, quiet guy. which he is, until you get to know him. then the retorts and self compliments spill out of him faster than a waterfall.

"what song would you want to be edited to?"

"hmm... p power, probably."

"who's the best looking?"

"me. though nick is a close second."

"kid, if you're gonna talk out of your fuckin' ass at least turn around so i can hear you better."

when you come into the picture, all that goes away. matt's flustered when you caress his jaw and tell him how handsome he is instead of spouting some nonsense like "thanks for telling me what i already knew."

his ears turn pink at the tips and a soft, slow giggle makes its way from his lips. when nick and chris tease him about it, the only thing he says is "god forbid a man gets a little shy around his girlfriend" rather than some reply about being sex on legs.

you like him this way. you softened him. it's nice to know that underneath the mattitude as his brothers call it, matt really is a big softie.

૮ ོ ོ𑁬 chris. . .changes his mindset 🪩🩰🕰️

chris sturniolo has never considered himself "famous", but there's a specific clip of him that circles the internet every few months that one could argue he's famous for.

"what's your biggest fear?"

"having a girlfriend."

you had to admit that when the video had first come across your tiktok during your early days of dating, you were a bit hesitant. would he really commit to you?

that video is specifically is why matt and nick are shocked when chris hands you a plate of food as you grin up at him, eyes crinkling. "thank you, baby." you hum, seemingly unaware of the eyes on you.

even just the pet name has his brothers staring between the two of you, waiting for chris to mumble some shit like "it's not a big deal. it's just food."

instead, chris kisses your forehead, before sitting down beside you. "you're welcome, my love."

nick practically chokes on a piece of pasta. in his entire almost-twenty two-years of life, he's never heard chris call anyone my love and mean it. you and chris seem oblivious to the obvious shock radiating around the deck outside of the boy's boston home.

you reach over and tuck a curl behind chris' ear, a soft, shy smile appearing on your boyfriend's face. again, there's no "stop" or "not now". this time, matt decides that he has to see if you've just changed chris or if an alien has replaced his younger brother.

"you've got sauce on your face, baby." he croons, using his thumb to wipe the side of his brother's face.

chris bats matt's hand away, glaring. "fuck off."

you giggle, watching the chaos before you. chris is glaring at matt like he wants to kill him and matt's just laughing.

"what happened to 'i'm scared of having a girlfriend'?" matt asks.

"times change," chris grumbles. "besides, my girl isn't a dickhead like you."

"you've done something to him." matt says, pointing his fork at you, but you see the smile on his face.

© chrisfawns

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬. ⋆˚꩜｡: i love it when men change their whole personality after they've met their girl 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️ interactions are appreciated but not expected!!

tags ⋆. 𐙚 ̊: @mattslilies @backwardshatnick @bernardsbendystraws @h3arts4nat @mattyblover07 @mattsstarlet

if you'd like to be added to my taglist, inbox me/dm me/comment!!

[matthewsmuts]

Driven to Desire

Roséanne Park x Male Reader

Tags: public sex, lots of squirting, deepthroating, facial, spanking, rough sex, pussy eating, lots of blowjob

2895 word

Have you ever thought about dating a big superstar like Roséanne Park from Blackpink? That's funny, because you actually are.

In the middle of the night, after you picked her up from a strange party that she had with her friends. You really didn't have anything inside your mind, just driving around to get home quickly and get some rest because of a busy day you had today. But for rosé, she had different mind. she really became a little filthy after went to that strange party.

You and rosé are not talking to with each other in the car, you really busy driving and her?, she just minding her own world. As you trying to focus on the road you can feel her hand starts to rub your thigh. You flinch slightly, glancing at her without losing focus. "What are you doing, babe?." You ask her as she keep rubbing her hand on your thigh. "Nothing, i'm just bored" She explains as she moves to rub your inner thigh. "Fuck" you moan as you keep trying to focus on the road. You can see that she's smiling while you moaned. You start to feel hard as her hand keep rubbing your inner thigh. She rubs your bulge as you once again trying to focus on the road. "Already this hard, huh?" She's smiling as she keeps rubbing your bulge. "You're filthy whore. Can't you just wait until we get home?." You exclaim while she's unbuckling your belt. "You don't know how horny I am at that party, daddy." She lets out her mischievous grin as she frees your big hard cock from your pants. "I really miss this big dick." She says as she moves her hand on your shaft. "Shit." You can't help anymore when you feel her mouth lick your tip. "Just wait home, i can't drive when you're like this." She just ignores you and bobbing her head on your cock. Her hands start to touch your balls slurps your precum. "Then stop the car, daddy. Let's do it right here." She strokes your shaft fast until you really can't help it anymore.

You start to enjoy this when you hit the red light. You place your hand on her head as you face fucking her. She gags until her makeup gets messy. "You're fucking bitch. Can't wait until we get home, huh?." You keep fucking her head until the red light turns green. She's panting as she looks at you while her hands stroking your shaft. "I really miss this cock, daddy." She licks your balls while her hands keep stroking your shaft.

You pull over and move to kiss rosé on the mouth. The passionate kiss makes you go feral. She keeps stroking your shaft while you two kissing. "Let's get to the backseats." You two go out and get into the backseats. You right away kiss her, then roam her body. She moans on your ear when you move to kiss her earlobe. "You're such a slut." She shivers down to her spine and looks at you in the eye. "I'm your slut, daddy. Please, make me cum. I can't wait anymore." You step outside the car and prepare to eat her. She takes off her pants, shows you her wet pussy. "Fuck, this juicy pussy." You drooling as you keep looking at her dripping pussy.

You begin to kiss her inner thigh, teasing her as she keeps moaning while grumble. "Daddy, just eat me already. You know how wet i am for you, daddy?. You know that i've been waiting for thi-AAHHH." You silence her by dive your mouth into her pussy. You can feel her juices starts to roaming in your mouth. You lick her clit and her juices slowly come more. You eat her deeper, then your thumb moves in slow circles against her clit. "FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, SHIT, I'M GONNA CUM." She glances at u with her eyes fluttering close, before slowly opening again. You move faster and can feel her juices are ready to explode. "SHITTTTTT, DADDY." She squirts while rolls her eyes. Without hesitation, you drink all of her squirts. "Good girl." You kiss her with your mouth still wet by her juices. "How's it taste?." You stare at her with lust on your eyes. "Fucking good, daddy. Please, make me cum more." She kisses you with passionate, tasting her own release.

You take your position outside the car, she lays down spreading her wet, juicy pussy. You slap her pussy with your tip and tease her by rubbing your shaft on hers. "Fuck me, daddy." She looks at you desperately while biting her lips. She's so fucking hot at this moment. You can't help it and shove your cock inside her tight, juicy pussy. "FUCK." She screams, her eyes close and her mouth is wide open. "You're so tight." You groan, feeling your big, thick, cock inside her tight pussy.

She starts moving her hips back and forth slowly, trying to adjust your big cock inside her pussy. You also move slowly, make her moan even loudly. “Shit, daddy.” You kiss her while quickening your pace, making her moan between kisses, breathless and needy. You fuck her in passionate missionary. Her legs are on your shoulder, making it even deep in her pussy. You can feel how needy and horny she is, the way her moans are so loud tonight, and how she moves her hips back and forth, make you go crazy with it.

She moans so loud when you hit her in the cervix, she really loves it when you hit her there. Your car rock hard with each motion, the windows fogging up as her moans fill the air. You muffle her moans with other kisses on the mouth, as you keep rocking her hard. Each movements feel so heavenly. Your tongue moves to her hard nipple, licking it like a baby craving her mom’s milk. Your licks shiver her spine down. Makes you can feel a hard fountain would sink you down. You help her closeness by rubbing her clit fast while you still fuck her hard. “YES, YES, FUCK I’M GONNA CUM.” She loudly moans to your ears. You pull out to see her squirting once again as you move to lick her pussy and taste her tasty release. You can hear her moans so loud when you eating her once again.

Her moans are music to your ears, so you don’t mind when she gets loud. But not everyone feels the same. People passing by start throwing side eyes, disgust written all over their faces. Still, you don’t care, until someone actually walks up to your car. “Get a room, bro. What the fuck is this?” he snaps, glaring at you through the fogged-up window. Rosé quickly ducks down, hiding herself, cheeks flushed red. You're still standing there, your cock rock hard and aching to ruin her all over again. “Get the fuck outta here, you gross freaks,” he scoffs. You shoot him a cold look before scrambling into the driver’s seat, your hand gripping the wheel. Without another word, you start the engine and speed off, leaving him behind as his curses fade into the distance.

“That was embarrassing,” you mutter, cheeks burning as you glance at the rearview mirror. She meets your gaze through the mirror, her mouth curling into a filthy little smirk. “Well, it is,” she purrs. “But it makes me want you more, daddy.” Her lust darkened eyes say it all, and before you can react, she spreads her legs wide, revealing her dripping pussy. You can’t take it anymore. You tear your eyes away from her and back to the road, your mind spinning. You scan the streets, searching for somewhere quiet, somewhere no one will interrupt your filthy little fun again.

You pull over at an abandoned bus stop secluded, quiet, the perfect place to enjoy your delicious little meal. Without wasting a second, you jump out of the car and slip into the backseat, where she’s already waiting. You crash your lips against hers, tugging her onto your lap. With your cock still rock hard, she places her hands over it, stroking you slowly teasing. Your tongue slides into her mouth, devouring her deeply as your hands roam down to her ass, squeezing, rubbing, and giving it a firm slap. She moans against your lips, breath hitching, but you don’t stop. You kiss her harder, hungrier, as your hands keep working her body like she’s all yours to ruin.

After that heated kiss, she keeps stroking your thick, aching cock, her eyes locked on yours dark, beautiful, and dripping with lust. Her stare says it all. She wants more. She needs more. “Ride me. Show me just how bad you want this cock,” you growl, your voice low and hungry.

The words make her shiver, thighs clenching at the thought of bouncing on you. But she’s got something else in mind. She drops to her knees between your legs, eyes full of lust, and wraps her beautiful lips around your throbbing cock. She starts slow deliberate sucking you in inch by inch, driving you absolutely feral. Her head bobs up and down, tongue swirling as she sucks, while her free hand reaches to gently play with your balls. You're completely undone, head resting back against the seat, letting her take full control. She doesn’t stop eyes locked on yours as she keeps sucking you deeper.

You place your hand on the back of her head, guiding her down, making her choke on your cock. The sound of her gagging only makes it hotter. She pulls off for a moment to suck on your balls, her hand still stroking your thick shaft slowly, teasing you just right. "You keep sucking my balls like that, baby, and I swear you’ll make me cum," you growl, running your fingers through her hair, trying to make her stop. But with a wet plop, she pulls away, a string of spit still connecting her lips to you. "Not before I ride this big cock, daddy." She grins wickedly, eyes burning with want as she climbs onto your lap.

She places her hand on your cock, guiding it to her aching heat pussy. She’s already soaked, making it easy to slide into her tight, warm pussy. She starts riding your cock slowly, easing herself down until it fits perfectly inside. You grip her waist, helping her move as her pace begins to quicken. The car gently rocks with every bounce, following her rhythm. Her moans grow louder, echoing inside the confined space, and her body glistens with sweat. Strands of her messy hair stick to her flushed face, her mouth parted, lost in pleasure. She looks like a vision wild, breathless, and utterly divine.

She kisses you deeply, her hands gliding over your chest as if trying to catch her breath taking a moment of rest before riding you again. Sweat trickles from her forehead, some of it falling onto your skin, warm and electric. Her fingers curl around your neck, grounding herself as her plush, juicy lips move against yours with delicious hunger.

The softness of her mouth drives you insane, and without thinking, your hips thrust upward, meeting her body with a newfound urgency. She lets out a breathy moan, grinding into you as she pulls away from the kiss, eyes dark and full of need. And then she begins to bounce again, matching your rhythm, chasing that high with you in perfect sync.

Once she begins to tremble beneath you, you pull out just to tease her, “FUCK, FUCK,’ her moans loud in desperation. She turns to look at you with a mix of frustration and desire written across her face. "Why did you pull out, daddy?" she pouts, breathless. You don’t answer. Instead, you guide her to all fours in the backseat. With slow, deliberate movements, you push back in, drawing a gasp from her lips. “You wanted more, didn’t you?” you murmur against her ear. “FUCK, FUCK, YES, I WANT MORE. FUCK ME HARDER, DADDY.”

Your rhythm grows wilder, raw, instinctual. She meets each thrust eagerly, fingers digging into the seat, holding on for dear life. The leather creaks beneath her grip, and her knuckles turn white as she loses herself in the moment.

You spank her juicy ass, each slap echoing inside the car as your rhythm grows rougher. You can see her pussy is getting red by how hard you fuck her. Her body trembles beneath your touch, her back arching beautifully while your hips drive into her, relentless and wild. Her soft moans grow louder, filling the space like a siren’s song, driving you to push deeper, harder.

The windows fog, the car shakes with every thrust like it might give out beneath the storm you’ve created. Her breath hitches when your hand lands again, but there’s no pain in her sounds only pleasure, only need. Her fingers dig into the seat, knuckles pale, body soaked with sweat and want. She’s not scared. She’s not overwhelmed. She’s ecstatic completely lost in the feeling of being taken, of being desired, over and over again.

You’re losing yourself in the moment, your rhythm turning frantic as your body moves in perfect sync with hers. You lean in, pressing soft kisses along her spine, tasting the salt of her skin, hearing the intoxicating sound of skin meeting skin echoing through the car. Your hands explore her body tracing the curve of her waist, then down to the soft warmth between her thighs. You feel her tremble under your touch, her breath catching as you gently circle her sensitive spot.

She’s close, you can feel it in the way she tightens around you, in the way her fingers claw at the seat, in the way her moans crack through the heavy air like thunder. You move faster, deeper driven by the sounds she makes, by the heat between you, by the way she surrenders completely to you. Her body begins to shake, her cries reaching a crescendo that fills the car with something raw and beautiful. You watch her come undone, her release leaving her breathless and glowing, her skin flushed, her body trembling in your hands. “FUCK, I’M CUMMING. I’M CUMMING, AHHHHH.” She squirts so hard and makes your dick got pull out. Her squirts make your backseat goes wet, but it’s so hot to having her squirts like this.

Watching her reach the peak of pleasure, a fierce fire ignites within you, urging your hand to move faster, more deliberate. Your breath hitches as you whisper, “I’m gonna cum” The tension between you both thickens, electric and undeniable. She slowly turns her face toward you, eyes half-lidded with hunger and mischief, a sultry flicker of her tongue teasing your senses. Her expression, both innocent and wildly tempting, makes your heart race and your restraint crumble.

Guiding yourself toward her parted lips, you begin to release wave after wave of warmth, each pulse carrying the intensity of your desire. The creamy cascade paints her skin like liquid silk dripping down her cheeks, tracing the curve of her jaw, glossing over her lashes, and wetting the strands of her hair. Her beauty, illuminated by your touch, is breathtaking raw, vulnerable, and fiercely alive. She wears the evidence of your passion like a badge of honor, and in that moment, you both exist only for each other, caught in the rapture of your shared abandon.

She licks the remnants of your love with slow, graceful reverence like a secret ritual only meant for two. A soft smile forms on your lips as you lean in and kiss her deeply, your mouths speaking the unspoken, tender and slow. “Thank you, daddy,” she whispers, her eyes gleaming with mischief and affection. You answer her not with words, but with another kiss firm and lingering one that tastes like both passion and goodbye. You both begin to dress, clothes slipping back over flushed skin, hearts still echoing the rhythm you’d just shared. You return to the front seat, leaving her alone at the backseat.

This moment etched in the dim haze of your car’s quiet aftermath feels like a stolen dream. She lies there, flushed and glowing, her breath still heavy from the high only you could give her. Her lips curl into a soft, exhausted smile, and you swear she looks like a painting wild, divine, and wholly yours.

You watch her from the front seat as you fix your clothes, stealing one last glance at the girl the world calls untouchable. But here, with you, she’s something else entirely. Not the adored idol on stages lit by a thousand lights but the secret that belongs only to you. The one who moans your name like a hymn, who trembles beneath your touch, and lets you unravel her piece by piece.

Her fans will never know the truth behind her sweetness, the fire behind her eyes. They’ll never hear how she begs under her breath, how she surrenders everything to you, willingly, eagerly. To them, she’s a goddess.

To you, she’s your hidden sin.

And as the night stretches on and the silence grows tender, one thing becomes clear

she’s not just a fantasy. She’s the melody your body knows by heart.

a/n: Hi!!, this is my first smut. Please be nice to me 🫠🫠. You guys can call me Matt. Sorry for the bad english, thoo. But, i hope you guys enjoy this little smut, hahaha. Have a good day!!

[heavypressure]

There's a myth that drinking milk causes your boobs to grow. So imagine if you starting drinking a gallon a day to get some results.

Your belly gurgles and bubbles as you finish the gallon. You belch loudly while gently caressing your overtaxed orb of a belly. The pressure pushes it to be taut, mimicking a very overdue pregnancy. Powerful farts explode out of your backside as you waddle to the bathroom.

You measure your bust, waist, and hips, hoping this is going to pay off. Your digestion has been wrecked since you started this "diet". First your hips, which you know has increased due to your thickened ass. Then you waist, and you not sure if it's gotten bigger because it's already so massive and has been for so long. Then your tits and... it's gone up an inch! The plan worked, drinking milk until you look pregnant and fart uncontrollably has paid off. Now to keep this up until you go up a cup size or two.

How good would it feel to be overfilled with milk all of the time... My gut sloshing audibly (and probably visibly) from all of the liquid inside, skin stretched to the brim because how gassy i am... Knowing all of it is going to make my ass and tits bigger, so i must drink more every day!... It's gonna work eventually, right? Who cares if i got a bit over my head and regularly give myself two weeks' worth constipations because of my diet.. I'm sure that'll only make my tits grow bigger too! Maybe feeling my sides stretch every minute of the day because of the bubbling, fermenting chaos inside my guts is a bit distracting, but I'm sure it's all worth it in the end....

[cherripoof]

FILO!🇵🇭Caleb headcanons

→ LOLL COULDN'T HELP MYSELF. Saw a tiktok post and somebody said to make a fanfic so here I am making one bcs I also need some Filo!Caleb yk snjxbsjdhs ewan ko pre nadedelulu ako HAHDGAHSHHAHA ANYWAYS HOPE U GUYS ENJOY!! [can't believe this is my tumblr debut www]

Caleb Lawrence G. Santos

• WHAHSHAHAH THIS IS HIS FULL NAME IN MY HEAD I THOUGHT REALLY HARD ABOUT IT.

• You two have been together for who knows how long, you're practically used to each other's presence. You also have been going to the same school for years now, how lucky!

• He likes messing with you all the time. It's one of his favorite hobbies lol. The type to tap you on your shoulder and pretending he didn't when you turn to look at him.

• whenever he get you something cold to drink he'd hold it against her cheek, laughing at your reaction.

"Ah! Tangina naman, Caleb!!"

"You're so dramatic~"

• Calls you "OA" and all that. He receives a slap on his shoulder from you as he starts laughing and pain.

• sometimes you ignore him because of the shit he pulls or on purpose just to get under his skin. He tries to make it up to you by buying more snacks, pleading for you to look at him.

"Huy.." He'd pout, poking on your arm.

• You turn away, still not paying him any attention, much to his dismay. But when he really wants you to look at him he'd start poking at your sides resorting to tickling. You soon yield, finally looking at him, so he starts teasing you again.

"You're so mean! Ignoring me on purpose."

"Fuck you!! Nakakairita ka!"

• you say in between laughs from his tickling.

• Between the two of you, you're more prone to cursing than he is, not even bothering to go easy on him when you guys banter. You call him all sorts of names from "Tanga" to "Gago" and etc. While his names for you usually range from "Pipsqueak" and "Pandak" or whatever pisses you off.

"Gago ka ba?"

"Sorry na."

• He's not sorry at all lol

The rest of this is pretty just more hcs and word vomit hehehehehe

• The type to keep hair bands on his wrist in case you need to tie your hair.

• When you were kids, sinusundo ka lagi sa bahay nyo pag trip nya maglaro sa labas.

• "Best in science" ahh awardee lol, helps you in your homework, LOVES to help you with your homework actually cause he gets to spend time with you. Especially when you're the type to not immediately get things right when learning about new stuff. He acts like an asshole telling you this is the "7th time" he's explained you what the lesson is, oh but how he loves the way you furrow your eyebrows in frustration when you still don't get it. Kasi tang ina ang cute mo!!

• HONESTLY I JUST SAW THIS IN THAT TIKTOK'S COMMENT SECTION TOO BUT I CAN SEE YOU TEASING HIM CALLING HIM "Kuya Caloy" LMFAOOO

• In highschool, he teases you sometimes, asking why you don't call him "Kuya" anymore when you were so adamant about calling him that your whole childhood. You try to make him drop it but he just keeps going on and on about it. He's such an ass!!

• Whenever you do want him to quit being such an annoying prick you'd threaten to tell his grandmother about how he's mistreating you. It's an overstatement but he knows Gran would believe you 100% so he sighs in defeat allowing you to win. You totally use that tactic in 70% of your arguments.

• Doesn't like playing basketball competitively, but the moment you urge him to try, he'd sign up immediately.

• Definitely worth seeing you with a banner, cheering him on as you went full on fangirl everytime he scores. Fuck it just makes him want to fangirl at you.

• Asks you for a prize since pinanalo nya school nyo and you ask him to lean down and close his eyes. He does so, his heart beating fast. Were you gonna kiss him? Gagi, weh?? Kukunin na ba sya ni lord?? He could explode!!

• You press a cold drink against his cheek making him flinch as his eyes shot wide at you.

"Inom well~" You tease, grinning at him.

• He swore he saw heaven when you pulled that shit on him.

THATS ALL SO FARRR AAAAAAA. Maybe I'll make a part 2 when inspiration strikes me again!!

[coltcassidyy]

I know this is probably gonna get annoying, but I can't help it. I'm hyperfiated on invincible atm. But a lapis lazuli inspired male reader.

Mark finds his gem in space or something and frees him, and now he has this strong ass gem alien living with him, trying to learn human customs and stuff.

It’s not annoying my g don’t worry bout it. I like writing for people … but I need to get some non invincible requests soon before I crash out and explode my kitchen

Mark Grayson x Lapis Lazuli/reader

TW: reader is male, No nsfw (I wasn’t sure if you wanted any or not). Non-sexual nudity. Includes romantic HCs.

I’m writing this at fucking 3 am. On the night before Easter. I’m trying to catch the fucking Easter bunny

Mark thinks you’re so fucking cool. You’re a gem? With water powers? And blue skin? Sure you occasionally remind him of the mauler twins but mark is happy to have somebody Oliver can look up to … having … odd skin, and all …

The way you behave is just so silly to him sometimes. This ranges from eating basic foods wrong (eating cake in layers, eating burritos / tacos sideways , etc), behaving so formal in the least formal places possible, saying odd things because you don’t quite understand English yet. ( Ex: “you know what, mark? I could care less.” “Then … care … less?” “… you know what I mean.”)

There’s some behaviors of yours that mark doesn’t find as silly. Like your ptsd. From the war (I think a war happened in Steven universe? I don’t remember). Yeah he hears you murmuring in your sleep.

Being not human and all, you never really understood the idea of being polite. You’re extremely blunt in all situations, and if marks there, he tries to spare you— to explain your situation. But honestly, it just makes things work. Sometimes when you go out in public with mark, he’ll beg you to let him do all the talking.

When mark first saw your powers in combat he was absolutely entranced. It was beautiful— the water itself was already gorgeous, but watching you contort it so elegantly is just the icing on the cake. Watching you maneuver and use the water to the crescendo of its abilities was so satisfying and so breathtaking. Sometimes, he’ll have you play with your powers simply because he likes to watch the water move.

Speaking of water! When you came to earth for the first time, you kind of … smelled. You didn’t stink … but you didn’t necessarily smell good. Mark tried to explain to you in words how to bathe, but it wasn’t really getting through to you. So your first actual bath was with mark.

This is one of those moments where mark had you play with your powers just so he could watch. Sometimes when you shower together or bathe together he’ll have you change the temperature or the water pressure. You didn’t think of using your abilities in such a way before, but now that you’ve discovered it, you never want to stop.

Your first bath together was where mark got to get a really good look at your gem placement, too. Right smack dab in the upper middle of your chest- a little below your collar bones. Mark always liked crystals and gems— he thought they were pretty, and he thought it was interesting how the earth could produce something so aesthetically pleasing just from minerals and dust. He thinks yours is pretty especially, the way the water reflects or the light catches in it sometimes, it’s hard to miss— and hard to ignore.

Mark finds your powers to be incredibly convenient. Taking down low level fire goons, or whenever he needs to wash his hands, get a drink (you thought this was quite nasty, but apparently mark doesn’t mind), or just when he’s hot or dirty and needs a refresher.

Mark had to teach you social interaction. It was insanely embarrassing— but thankfully, he really only used his mom, atom eve, amber, or William to practice. Mark assumes that after spending so much time with William that it gave you a bit of a … sass.

You’ve eaten the soap from marks bathroom before. You coughed up bubbles for weeks. (Smells good ≠ tastes good. He had to teach you that as well.)

Romantic HCs

Sometimes, after a really bad day, mark will ask to lay down with you and he’ll trace his fingers around the gem in your chest. It’s satisfying and smooth against his fingertips, and it’s a nice feeling for you too.

He enjoys having a partner who can fly. Sometimes the both of you will just go on flight trips together, flying over cities or hovering in the night sky to look at the stars. You don’t ever do this without holding hands though. Holding hands makes you feel closer and more connected, and without that simple gesture, sometimes you get quite uncomfortable.

You weren’t necessarily comfortable with PDA at first. To your culture, touch and affection is an incredibly intimate and sacred thing. Though you didn’t necessarily agree with it, you obeyed anyways. So when mark broke the news to you that PDA is actually quite normal, you went a little overboard with it. You love the idea of displaying to others that mark belonged to you and you alone, letting the world know of your love— of your unbreakable bond.

Similar to mark laying you down and tracing over the gem in your chest, after a bad day or a particularly rough fight, sometimes you’ll have mark trace his fingers over your body, just gentle touches to remind you that not all super-abled humans (or viltrumites.) are out to hurt you— to remind you that at the end of the day, mark will always be there to soothe your wounds.

The both of you don’t really kiss mouth-to-mouth a lot. Only on special occasions. You don’t like it— you think it’s nasty. So the both of you opt for kisses to the forehead, the hands, the inner wrist, the cheek, the nose … anywhere but the lips, basically. (Mark believes that kissing each others hands is much nastier than kissing on the lips, but he doesn’t want to confuse you, or make you even more grossed out by humans then you already are. He just keeps his hands washed.)

((This is kinda short but holy fuck Easter bunny give me chocolate))

[izunx]

HEY THANK YOU SM FOR DOING MY REQUEST!! can I request for part 2 please??? It's too cute!! Thank you!!

Tenjiku Rindou x introvert reader PART 2

he confesses his feelings !

no warnings.

{part 1} -> you don’t have to read part 1 but it’s just as good give it a read NOW

“hey rinnie” you stared up at rindou as you were sat on the swing with your ice cream.

“yep” rindou stood by the swings, leaning against the post in his Tenjiku uniform, hands in his pocket.

this wasn’t unusual for you and rindou. it’s been about 5 months now that you both would spend your free time in each others companies. he would walk you home and take you on small ‘dates’ despite your wish to stay at home.

and on those days you really did want to stay home, he’d accompany you. helping around the house even and entertaining your younger siblings.

“you think I can meet ran?”

…

“that’s a funny joke y/n”

“it wasn’t a joke, I wanna meet ran”

rindou rubbed his temple and just sighed.

“why do you want to meet a man child?”

“that’s not nice rin.”

he side eyed you but decided it was about time you guys probably .. bonded.

“alright alright, only because it’s you”

the next day, rindou was sat in the garage with ran who was grinning uncontrollably.

“remember what I told you ran.”

“hey hey relax there, what am I gonna do? bite her?”

“you never know with your animalistic tendencies”

ran flicked his brother’s head.

at that moment, y/n peeked into the garage. your hair was done neatly and you were in a sundress with a plastic bag full of desserts in your hand.

too scared to speak first, you stood there meekly with a frown on your face.

ran simply stared at your face, he’s seen your pictures and has heard about your character but he didn’t expect you to actually be this to anti-social but you were exceptionally beautiful.

rindou understood how you felt and came up to you immediately, rubbing your back in comfort.

“hey y/n, you alright?”

“yep.” you simply said, your head turned away from ran who was sat opposite you both.

“ran’d over there”

you knew this was your idea and you knew that morning took everything in you to even step out your house but you really didn’t expect it to be this overwhelming.

you walked towards ran putting the bag besides him and bowing your head politely.

“heyy, pretty thing”

rindou wasn’t slow to thwack his brother behind his head. aggressively mouthing the words ‘what did I say?’

ran awkwardly laugh and the silence that followed after was suffocating.

“I’m just gonna go get something for us to drink” ran grinned and left in a hurry.

you let out a sigh of relief,

“I think he got embarrassed”

“that’s unusual for him, he’s usually good talking to girls”

you got insecure about that.

“am I weird to him? does he not like me?”

rin’s eyes widened at this, he knew you weren’t that confident about yourself, it was the very reason you didn’t go out much in the first place.

“don’t be silly, you’re gorgeous you know” he mumbled the last part.

he could see your ears redden, but you didn’t say anything.

“hey, i’m being serious about that,”

you sat down on the bench and you were about to explode.

“you can’t say that when you’re here though,” you sighed out unbearably quiet.

“hahh? say that again” rindou unable to hear, sat down next to you leaning his head in to yours.

this didn’t help your reddening face.

“ugh shut up” you pushed his cheek away and continued to look down.

“hey hey what’s wrong with you? don’t be upset because of that man child, I knew it was a bad idea to introduce you to him”

you looked at him solemnly and leaned your head on his shoulder.

it was like you both were matching red faces.

“sorry about him, he probably just didn’t know what to do with himself in front of you, cos you’re sweet and all”

“you really think that?”

“yeah, trust me”

rindou thought on ran’s words from earlier.

ran was being extremely obnoxious, pestering rindou about you persistently.

“rinrin if you don’t confess to her soon, I swear I’ll swoop in and make sure you never ever get a chance ever again”

“it’s embarrassing”

“to tell a girl you like her? WIMP”

“i’m not like you.”

“what’s that meant to mean?”

“stinking womaniser”

“HEY”

should he really do it?

“hey rinnie, do you like anyone?”

‘well then.’ he could only think.

“do you?”

“hey I asked you first” you grumbled.

“well yeah I guess I do.”

it was silent for a moment -

“who?”

…

“rinnie I asked you who?”

“you” he sighed, “I like you.”

you lifted your head and just stared at him.

“are you breathing..”

you hugged him tight.

“is that an ‘I like you too’” he was quick to hold you the same.

“of course it is” you pushed his chest.

he stared into your face for a bit, and pecked your lips.

a subtle, short first kiss. but it was overcome with an incredible amount of fluster.

you guys were like highschool kids, experiencing first time romance.

you went back in for a longer, more desperate kiss. he held your head like you were a fragile doll. and likewise you held his face with a gentleness rindou couldn’t get elsewhere.

you lied your head on his shoulder again, in silence.

“i’ll make sure to ask you out more… romantically next time,”

“don’t sweat it lover boy.”

he flicked your head but laughed

“hey, what happened to ran?”

rindou’s phone buzzed at the moment and when he opened his phone, he was met with an extremely stupid text.

‘i just took the most diabolical shit rn not a joke, i’ll come back to u 2 in like 10 mins, don’t miss me too much ;)’

“yeah.. I think I know where” rindou could only look down in disgust and you giggled.

“at least he gave us two time,”

you flashed him a greedy smirk.

“it’s always you quiet girls..”

but rindou was quick to crash his lips onto yours.

sorry it took so long my lovelies but i have delivered. NOT PROOFREAD

[n33dlew0rk]

I, too, am small but feisty

I’m thinking about Steve cleaning the pool while Eddie is half asleep on a deckchair. 

He’s slick with sweat, carefully pulling the skimmer net through the warm water, catching leaves and quite an array of dead bugs.

He’s nearly done when, all of a sudden, from the woods surrounding the backyard, comes something hurtling directly towards the pool. It’s just a small brownish undefined shape, but it still startles Steve (you know, otherworldly creatures tend to have a soft spot for Hawkins’ forests, fields, malls, whatever).

He hurries to the other side of the pool as soon as the little thing falls right into the chlorine water with an uncoordinated splash. 

As he gets closer, Steve sees a little squirrel gasping for air and barely managing to keep his chestnut-coloured head out of the water.

He tries to extend the skimmer pole towards it, but the small animal desperately swims away from the aid instead.

Hearing the commotion, Eddie abandons his innocent slumber and merely opens one eye, catching Steve slowly descending into the water. He can only see his toned, sunkissed back as Steve corners the little guy into safety.

Eddie lets himself ogle briefly, it’s not like there's someone around to judge him, after all.

“Come on, buddy”, Steve says softly, trying not to scare the squirrel even more. “Let’s cooperate and get you out of here before you end up drinking half my pool away”.

Eddie snickers silently at the interaction and stares intently as the other man finally succeeds in picking up the small animal. 

“There you go, there you go, buddy”. The squirrel is clearly frightened, squiggling and breathing fast between Steve’s fingers. “Hush now, your heart is gonna explode if you don't calm down a bit”.

Slowly, with a firm but delicate grip, Steve starts to pat the squirrel’s face dry with the fabric of his swimsuit. The little animal’s chest slows down its heaving, but its eyes are still wide and wary. 

After a minute or so of Steve carefully petting the squirrel with his fingers, letting the hot afternoon sun help reduce the soaked status of the little one, he tries to loosen the grip. 

A soft smile gracefully appears on his lips “See? All better now. Wasn't that bad, wasn't it?” 

Eddie feels a weird warmth blooming in his chest at the sight, fondness making its way through his thoughts, waking him up fully from his nap.

The creature seems to look at Steve for a few seconds.

The idea of having a pet squirrel pops up in the young man’s head but is quickly abandoned as the squirrel promptly turns on its little legs, leaves a good chomp on Steve’s palm and, with a small jump, speeds towards the forest, to safety.

Steve flinches, shaking his hand to alleviate the pain “small but feisty, uh?” he chuckles. There’s a little blood, but nothing to worry about. He gets up, thinking of where he stocked the first aid kit around the pool house. 

Suddenly, as Steve approaches the shed’s doors, another way bigger, splash comes from the pool behind his back.

Turning around, Steve sees Eddie emerging from the water, hair sticking on his face and a dead serious expression. With one hand, he frees himself from the long wet curls clinging to his cheeks, but his attention is all on Steve.

“I, too, am small but feisty, Harrington.” The metalhead shakes his head to get rid of some water, then looks up at Steve again, smirking and making grabby hands “Save me?”.