#sort of fwb?

[allurilove]

Camp Counselor x you

Rated 18 + — mature short content !

Includes: yandere best friend x fem reader, you guys are both camp counselors, bimbo reader, protective and obsessed behavior, mentions of blowjobs, fingering, manipulation, sort of fwb, he's whipped for you.

*Finally a yandere with a name! He goes by "Pres" or "your best friend." I should be working on other stuff soon, but I can't focus for some reason. LOL! Maybe yandere husband part four next, or the superhero. This is purely fictional writing!*

Synopsis: Your best friend convinces you to go to this remote camp deep into the woods with him. He marketed it as a fun paid getaway, but he was ready to taint your innocence.

You’re the exact person he would go for, and the one he’s been wanting to fuck. He wouldn’t dare to toss you aside like all the other women he’s been with. No, he wants you forever. You're his.

Being a camp counselor with your friend was hard. He had the hots for you, and that was pretty clear. Your best friend was named after the late famous singer Elvis Presley. His parents went absolutely crazy for the rock and roll musician, so much so that they named their son “Presley.” But he went by “Pres,” wanting nothing to do with the man he doesn’t even like.

Pres was a hot-headed and flirtatious nineteen-year-old who was only nice to you. He was a bit troubled and rough around the edges, smoking pot and drinking beer whenever he could. He got into a lot of fights, and most of them were because of you.

You were sweet, bubbly, and innocent. You had a tight, round ass that drove him wild, your hair always blowing in the wind, and your mini clothes accentuated your body perfectly. He bought you anything you wanted and did whatever you asked. Despite his tough exterior, he was a mushy, gushy guy on the inside.

He was your closest childhood friend, always coming to your house for years without a single break. Pres told you about the job, shoving the flyer in your face, and he raved about the opportunity. Money, sleeping in cabins, and taking care of kids—it all seemed pretty easy. It also meant he could have you all to himself for three whole months!

The day before the kids arrived for the summer, the counselors had one last meeting. You were able to check out the cabins, rest up for the night, and be well-rested for the morning. That was until your friend snuck out of his cabin and came to yours.

He tiptoed quietly, clinging to the shadows as he looked around to see if his supervisors were nearby. Slowly, he inched closer to your window. Your friend had told you to keep it unlocked, so he hoped you had listened. He let out a small grunt as he used his biceps to lift the window, which slid up smoothly.

“Oh would you look at that?” He muses, pushing his body though. He eyed you up and down, noticing how you were already in your pink silk nightgown. “Now that’s the prettiest sight I’ve ever seen.”

All of the boring and long hikes to see a couple of mountains meant nothing in comparison to this. Seeing you in your room with lit candles all around, your legs apart, and your supple breasts covered by thin fabric was captivating. His feet found footing on your carpet as he approached closer to your sleeping form. That night, he slept right by your side, not wanting to leave you for a single moment.

You both teetered on the line between just being friends and being lovers. He would try to convince you to make out with him. You were just his type: ditzy, pretty, and downright adorable. He could show you a good time if you let him. His hands would rest on your hips, lovingly rubbing your sides up and down, occasionally slipping lower to your ass.

Presley convinced the kids assigned to you to hang out with his group, all so he could pull you into the woods and put on a cute display. He showered you with little kisses on your neck, his deep, rumbling voice cooing swoon-worthy words, and his brown eyes held so much warmth and affection. It was enough to convince you to get down onto your knees, his cock already pulled out of his tan shorts.

You’re a hot babe. Even hotter with your lips around the head of his cock. It must've been your first time, or you were just struggling with his length. Pres guided your head up and down, and with a loud grunt he came inside your mouth. He would tell you that you did amazing, help you wipe your mouth clean, and he’ll return the favor.

He doesn't understand what personal space even means. Your bed was his, and his was always open for you and only you. Once he got his rowdy kids to settle down in their bunk beds, was the moment he had you trapped outside, his fingers soaking in your cunt. He had his hand around your mouth, his knee pushing your legs apart, and his fingers kept pressing against the spot that had your head spinning.

No matter what he does, you still think you guys are just friends. Even if that word does irk him, he'll use it to his advantage. Showering with him was something friends do, so you can’t really say no. Him helping you clean every crevice of your body was just him being nice. Him choosing specific outfits that he wants to see you in was only because he was a 'fashionista.' He barely gave you any time to argue back when he stuffed your body into the swimsuit in the dead of night.

Pres tried his hardest to woo you. On lake day, he would pull off his shirt, muscles on display, and jump into the water. When he came up to the surface, his hair glistening in the light and his body dripping wet, he would try to catch a fish—doing manly things to show off. If that didn’t work, he would walk inside with you to the grand hall, where he’d make friendship bracelets with you. You were happy to do simple things like that, and he’d even make flower crowns with you.

The yandere was a competitive and athletic man. He would win at all of the games—tug-of-war, rock climbing, and don’t even mention any sort of crossword puzzle near him. All of his winnings would go to you. The chocolate gold coins from See's Candies were yours, the tiny trophy he got for catching the most fish was in your hands before you could blink, and the whittled statue of a moose from capturing the prettiest pictures was promptly put into your bag.

He had his softer moments: carrying your suitcases for you and putting them into the shuttle when camp ended, wrapping his jacket around you when you shivered, and letting you have the window seat because you liked to sightsee. He would remember your favorite snacks (he forced himself to like the same things) and offer his arm to be used as your pillow during the drive.

Right when he thought the relationship had progressed into something more, with your head resting on his shoulder, you said the words he didn’t want to hear: "You're the greatest best friend I have ever had."

Ah, shit. Seriously?

“Mhm, yeah, yeah,” he said unenthusiastically with a slight eye roll, and he gently patted your head. “Just go to sleep.”

[aro-culture-is]

disabled Aro culture is having a laugh realising physical intimacy would have to look a bit funny for you.

.

[drawfee-quot3s]

next time you're smoking weed in a group, pass it to the next person and say "hey take a jizzle off this scooby"

-jacob

[aro-bird]

Continuing on for whatever the fuck happened with that poll™ yesterday, OP claiming that it was made as a "joke poll" doesn't matter because they were still being arophobic and not at all curbing any aphobia in their replies. It's also apparent that the joke here is the absurdity of the existence of aro men who are also cishet which shows how little OP and other aphobes really know about the aro and ace spectrums and the nuance within them.

Besides, the fact that so many people aren't really taking to it as a "joke" as OP claims, and is just spewing out such rancid hatred for ace and aro people, even wishing for our deaths, is still something to be called out. It still shows how uncaring OP and those other people are.

They really don't give a shit about us.

[aro-who-reads]

Hate having weird feelings (non-romantic) for people. Barely ever happens, I have no idea what I actually want. He's hot. I want to get to know him better. I referred to him as 'my friend' to someone and it felt really nice, but if he wanted some kind of relationship I'm not totally sure I'd say no?

[nikkiruncks]

Friends (1994-2004) || That 90s Show (2023-?)

[tpup]

she told me i remind her of her ex, and that makes her feel protective of me. she tilted her head like a curious dog when she said that.

i wasn't sure how to word a prying question about it. i said I feel guilty when people do things for me because i don't have something to give in return. she said that was a strange way for me to have responded.

[quillkiller]

Who does regulus end up with when remus and Sirius start hooking up (the moonwater fwb au)

blushing a little from this ask….. you remembered… 👉👈

but i don’t know!! the au sort of ends with the phone call between reg and sirius and i haven’t really thought about who reg would end up with…..

[wyrmway]

.

[pancakehouse]

hello bab!! absolutely obsessed with this prompt game idea xx im giving you a choice between 12 and 19--take your pick xox

send me a richard siken line and i'll write a mini fic inspired by it

hi omg HELLO ridi!! isn't it insane! prob the worst idea anyone's ever had im so excited about it!!!!!

ahhh god okay i went with:

19. i take off my hands and i give them to you. (oh also, vaguely nsfw? like not at all but also sorta, to be safe!)

“Did you know I’m left-handed?” 

The question startles Remus. At first, he’s sure he’s misheard, muffled as the words are, spoken into the small dip of skin where his collarbone meets the bony juncture of his shoulder. It was never a spot Remus thought was particularly notable or interesting, at least not until the day Sirius Black decided to attach his lips there, and make it so. 

Remus' breath hitches. “Hm?” he murmurs. His hand tightens in Sirius’ hair, fingers scraping scalp, and he tugs lightly until Sirius lifts his head. “What?” 

Night sky leaks through the curtains, and Sirius’ eyes are shining, lips parted and cherry red. There’s always something that sits heavy in Remus’ stomach on the nights they do this, like holding your breath underwater, or the slow tick of a broken clock. Something that’s over, inevitably, just as soon as they're brave enough to admit it. 

“I said-” And Sirius is grinning, because surely he’s only thinking of the bulge in Remus’ trousers, and how they can be as loud as they want now, here, in their flat, and is not - like Remus - thinking of all the ways he’d break himself apart, limb from limb from limb, if it might drag this thing out a little bit longer. “I said…” Sirius leans in, presses a kiss under Remus’ jaw, “-did you know-” another kiss to his throat, one to his chest, “that I-” cold fingers, skirting under his waistband, “...am left handed.” Sirius finishes with a poke and a loud, wet smack just above his belly-button. He snickers into it, warm breath tickling the hairs there. 

“Yes, Pads,” Remus huffs, stomach trembling, his voice horribly shaky. “Seeing as I shared a dorm with you for seven years, and classes for just as long…yes, Sirius, I had noticed sometime in there that you were left-handed.” 

There’s a moment, still and quiet. The sheets are warm, and balmy summer air drifts through the open window. A bird perches on the sill, claws scratching into chipped white paint and grass that’s sprung up between the cracks. They look at each other - him and Sirius, not him and bird - and the heavy feeling in Remus’ stomach feels sort of nice. Like a weighted blanket.

Eventually, Sirius nods. Slowly. “Well, good,” he says. His mouth quirks in the corner. “Good, because I’ve noticed things about you, too.” 

Remus’ hands find themselves back in Sirius’ hair.

Have you? he wants to ask. What kinds of things?

And then: because there are so many things i’ve noticed about you. i noticed that you went for a run in the rain yesterday and your legs were hurting after and your hair looks lovely when it’s damp. and last week at the park your hands smelled like orange slices and sometimes you smile when i walk into the room and also sometimes you don’t. 

…have you noticed how i always smile? when i see you. but maybe it’s not obvious. maybe you don’t think it’s obvious, just like you don’t think i know you write with your left hand and have a scar across the middle knuckle from Prongs and maybe you don’t realise i kiss it every time i have the chance and maybe you don't notice how the smell of oranges in summer always makes me sneeze. have you noticed that? what else is there to see?

“Alright,” he says instead. Because it’s their flat and it’s his bedroom and Sirius’ knees are around his hips, and maybe he doesn’t feel like being brave enough to acknowledge anything else right now. 

“Alright?” Sirius laughs. “You’ll allow it?” 

“Sure.” Remus cups his cheek, grins slowly, hesitantly, into their next kiss. Do you feel this? he wants to ask. My hands, these hands, these lips…they’re all yours. Do you have any use for them? “Yeah, alright, I’ll allow it.”

[thefact0rygirl]

Mama Vee help this thought has not left my mind for literally MONTHS

I have a (modern au) story plot about being in a kinda fwb (that of course involves eventually catching feelings) relationship with Wolffe, and as someone who's (by most people's standards) a virgin, I've been thinking about him being my first, and I'm curious how you would see Wolffe taking someone's virginity in a situation like that?

I imagine him kinda being like, a little miffed about it, even tho he secretly kinda really likes it, that he seems brass and methodical on the outside, but he secretly wants it to be really good for you

FWB WITH WOLFFE?? Sign me the fuck up 💳💥💳💥💳💥

This is making me think 😂 I think in theory Wolffe might be into the idea of being your first, but in practice it would make him pause. Because I totally agree - he wants it to be good for you and that would be what holds him back. He realizes first times aren't as magical as we're led to believe and for some it's a big deal, and I think that is a lot of pressure for him. He'd be nervous it wouldn't live up to your expectations or if he already has feelings for you that you will be disappointed with him and he can't handle that. Wolffe would be more nervous than you lol

I think it would take a lot of conversation and a lot convincing to make it happen. But when it does, it would signal a new era of your friendship/situationship. Not just because of sex, but because you would see Wolffe in a very vulnerable position. there is no taking that back, and it would add a deeper layer to you both.

[plumbogs]

enough romantic shipping. what sims do you platonically ship. who do you think would be besties

[svndowning]

“what are you freaking out about? i made sure no one saw me come up here. it’s just you and i, we don’t have to worry about anything else right now.” / a closed starter for @ofcrxwns

[statisticalcats2]

Steve and Eddie being brother figures to Max but specifically because of being romantic partners and friends-formerly-with-benefits with Billy, respectively.

[romanken]

Miyin and lae'zel having their reunion convo after freeing her from orin mutually acting like 1. She didnt start crying when she woke up and saw him bc no one else in her entire life would have ever thought to rescue her 2. He didnt go liam neeson in taken mode when she was kidnapped tearing apart bhaalists for her location. Instead they kind of dap it out maybe with a singular bro hug cause theyre the most emotionally constipated people alive

[kcrabb88]

Man, I gotta say, it really does add insult to injury when shipping a rare ish pair that there is a strain of fic where one member of your ship is only sleeping with the other because they WANT to be sleeping with someone else, and the first member is like yeah coool I'll pretend to be them even, if you want! Just like, why even write this pair then? Just write the pair you want to write.

(Usual disclaimer that people can write what they want and this is not a moral issue it just kind of sucks)