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#i’m happy you enjoyed it!!! <333
inkykeiji · 6 months
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trying so hard not to start listening to christmas music before november 1st ๐·°(৹˃̵﹏˂̵৹)°·๐
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roselise · 2 years
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Your body is so enchanting.. I adore how you pose. You look like a mermaid.
:’)
My sweet anon . . .
I love mermaids ! ! ! ♡
I’m obsessed. I love mermaid lore. I love mermaid art. They’re my faves!
Out of the Disney mermaids though I think the ones in ‘Peter Pan’ are the cutest.
Ariel has a place in my heart for sure though!
♡ ♡ ♡
I think there’s something about water that is very freeing to me. So I enjoy being in it!
Being a mermaid would be pretty cool, huh? :D
Hehe. You’re a nice person to say this though! There’s something poetic about this if it’s okay to say? ♡
I’m touched . . . my face is red. Goodness. You’ve left me a bit flustered and I think I need to compose myself again!
Keep up the lovely writing and sharing the love! This was a really sweet moment in my evening, and I thank you so much for that!
Hugs, kisses, and many many well-wishes! Please take care and have a beautiful day or night! ~ xoxo
🌸 ♡   
* · ✧
˚ .   🌸  · ˚
˚ ✧  . ♡    ✧ 🌸
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beenbaanbuun · 2 months
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opposites attract w/ addams!matz
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it’s finally here… i spent so long on this and im finally happy enough with it to give it to you guys!! i hope you enjoy it as much as i enjoyed writing it <333
words - 7.2k
genre - smut/fluff
warnings - sugar mommy!seonghwa, mommy kink, sugar daddy!hongjoong, daddy kink, cute!reader, sub!reader, dom!seonghwa, switch!hongjoong, unprotected sex, creampie, double penetration (2 in 1), clit play, cum eating, collaring, partially clothed sex, seonghwa in a tulle robe, mentions of seonghwa in a dress, i’m so horny for seonghwa guys, mentions of drinking but everyone is sober, pet names (mommy, daddy, mi amor, cara mia, dove, love, lamb), i think that’s it?
—��————————————————————————
The fire crackles to your left as you lay before it for warmth. The grizzly bear rug - which you’d affectionately nicknamed Jongho, once you’d finally gotten used to the morbid thing - is soft beneath you, and you have to stop yourself from slipping away into a peaceful slumber atop it.
Although you assume your desire to sleep has more to do with the book in your hand than it does the rug. It had been carefully placed atop the side table next to the chez and since you had nothing better to do, you decided to read it. Only it seems it was written when Shakespeare’s great-great-great grandfather was still a twinkle in his father's eye, so comprehending a single word of it is proving to be more difficult than you originally anticipated. For all you know, you could be reading a recipe book and you’d be none-the-wiser.
For that exact reason, it doesn't take long for you to slam the book closed in frustration, tossing it to the side. It boinks the back of Jongho’s head, bouncing off and landing somewhere on the parquet floor. You can’t be particularly bothered to check where it’s landed, knowing that if you do, you’ll be liable to clean up after your mini-tantrum. The longer the location of the book remains a mystery, the longer you can stay swaddled in the blanket of warmth that Jongho and the fire are providing you with.
“Little dove?” A voice calls from the doorway to the sitting room. Your head perks up and you glance over to where Hongjoong is leaning against the stone archway with a glass of whisky in hand. You smile at him, which he returns, “I didn’t even notice you were here. When did you arrive?”
He takes a few steps into the room before coming to a halt upon spotting your body that had previously been hidden by the chez lounge. You’re lying on your tummy, head in hands and feet kicked up in the air. It’s quite obvious you’re not trying to seduce him with the way you're staring up at him with innocent eyes. In fact, once he spots the book tossed a couple of feet away, he can tell that your behaviour is more on par with a petulant child than a seductress. If it weren’t for your outfit, he’d perhaps find you adorable, but that’s the last word he’d use to describe that tiny little tennis skirt you’re wearing.
The hem had flicked up at some point, revealing just a little more thigh than you realise. If Hongjoong looks carefully he’s almost sure he can see the crease of where your ass cheek meets your thigh. He averts his gaze, if only to stop himself from pouncing on you and instead, he lets it travel down your soft legs. His eyes don’t get far, however, as seconds later his pupils come to rest on the thigh-highs you wear. The way they dig into your thighs so prettily, your soft flesh spilling over the top, draws him in.
He gulps down the rest of his whisky to calm himself.
“About fifteen minutes ago,” you shrug before laying yourself completely flat against the bear you seem to adore so much. Your fingers curl into its fur and you stretch your legs out behind you. Hongjoong almost finds you cute, but the way you move only brings more attention to your thighs. He notices the purple marks that had been left between them only days prior have faded, for the most part, although the memory alone makes his cock throb, and he quickly manoeuvres himself so he’s sitting on the chez with one leg firmly over the other to hide the growing tent in his black, pinstripe slacks.
“Why didn’t you call for us, my dove?” He places his empty glass down on the side table, the cubes of ice clinking musically against the sides, “you know we would’ve come running to you.”
You flip onto your back, rolling just a touch closer to Hongjoong’s feet. A shiver runs through you as the cold patch of Jongho’s fur rubs against your skin, and you almost want to shuffle back to the patch you’d already spent the last quarter of an hour warming up with your body. You refrain. It’s nice to be close to Hongjoong, and besides, you can get a better look at him from this angle. Always so handsome, every single pore in his body oozing eloquence and grace. If you ever get to meet the demon who created such a tempting individual, you’d have to thank them personally.
Hongjoong feels the same way, desire and temptation filling him from top to bottom as you reveal the front of your outfit. The corseted top you wear hugs your breasts oh so perfectly, accentuating them in a way that would have a Victorian harlot gasping with jealousy. If you were, in fact, a harlot, Hongjoong would be willing to pay whatever it took for just a peek at your body.
“Seonghwa doesn’t like it when I don’t use my indoor voice,” you mumble through pouted lips. The way they pucker reminds him of all the pretty little sounds you let slip through them when he and Seonghwa are taking you apart. They play a symphony in his head, dizzying him as he further succumbs to your temptations.
“You should’ve come to seek us out then,” his voice is a little gravellier than it had been just a moment or two ago, his desire to ruin you only growing stronger by the second, “You know, rather than just lying here and waiting for us to stumble upon your little tantrum.” he gestures over to where the book still lays discarded on the ground.
You roll your eyes and let out a grunt of dismay.
“It’s not a tantrum,” you whine childishly, “I’m just bored, and that book was dumb.”
He hums as he watches you sulk with your face pressed up to the rug. You’re incredibly charming, actually, and all he wants to do is reach down and pull you into his lap. Perhaps whisper comfort to you as he toys with you a little. Turn you into a gooey mess, both mind and body. He pushes those thoughts away, yet the way you look at him draws them back. You’re the picture of innocence with glistening eyes, body spread out on his rug as if you’re too dumb to care about the amount of skin showing. Perhaps you are; it doesn’t seem like you’ve even noticed that your skirt has now lifted enough for him to see the front of your white cotton panties.
He wants to tear you to shreds.
“Bored, hm?” he grunts out through gritted teeth. His hard cock is aching at this point. It’s a white-hot ache that sits deep in his balls. He can feel that they desire nothing more than to be emptied into you.
“Bored and restless,” you sigh as you let your fingers intertwine with Jongho’s fur.
Hongjoong hums in understanding, a grin rising to his face as you so graciously drop all the answers to his problems in his lap. He almost gets down onto the floor himself to kiss you, but somehow manages to hold himself back.
“I have an idea, little dove,” he says. “How about you go upstairs and see Mommy?”
And just like that, time seems to stop. The suggestion brings all of your attention to Hongjoong who is staring you down like a lion on the prowl. There’s a dangerous smirk on his lips, the man baring his teeth as if he’s about to go in for the kill. You gulp as you push yourself into a sitting position, feeling every part ‘prey’ as he seems predator.
“You think it’ll help?” you take in a sharp breath, “i-if I go and see… Mommy?”
“Of course, I do, little dove” he leans in close and grabs hold of your chin between his fingers. His fingers are a little cold to the touch, which sends a shudder through your body. The reaction you have makes him chuckle, “Now be a good girl and run along, won’t you? Daddy won’t be far behind.”
The second his grip loosens on your face, you’re scrambling to your feet and rushing out of the room. Your socks almost make you slip on the lacquered parquet. Hongjoong chuckles as you balance yourself before disappearing into the stairwell. You take the stairs two at a time, footsteps thundering through the house. There's no doubt in your mind that Seonghwa will give you a lecture about your volume the moment he spots you, but that’s at the back of your mind right now. All you can think about is what’s to come.
You step foot on the landing, practically skipping down the hallway until you reach the open doorway to an all-too-familiar room. You knock desperately, not bothering to wait for a response before pushing it open and stumbling inside of the master bedroom.
Immediately your eyes hone in on Seonghwa, lying on the bed in all his glory, nothing but a black tulle robe to cover his lithe body. His wet hair hangs over his forehead in elegant waves, dripping droplets of water down his nose as he relaxes. Despite your desire to have him take you in any way he deems fit, you can’t help but stop for a second to admire the view.
“I thought I heard you coming,” his silken voice beckons you in like a siren. You follow it, stepping closer to your doom with every step, “although it wasn’t difficult. I’d be surprised if the people living four towns over couldn’t hear you.”
He locks eyes with you, dark pupils drawing you even further in. You shuffle toward him until you’re standing by his nightstand. A pretty hand reaches out to rest upon your waist, fingers dancing across the pastel material of your corset. Seonghwa reaches around the back to where the ribbon holds it in place and gives it a playful tug.
“I was just excited to see you,” you defend as he continues to play with the bow at the base of your spine, “Daddy sent me.”
The fingers pause for a millisecond before going back to what they were doing. They pull at the ribbon, tempting it looser and looser the longer they play. You have no doubt the bow will slip open any time now.
You can’t find it in you to care.
“And why did Daddy send you to me?” His lips are pretty as he talks, plush and pouty with a natural red tint to them. He looks vampiric; black eyes, glassy skin, crimson lips. You move closer still until the mattress presses firmly against your thighs, “were you misbehaving?”
You shake your head at the suggestion. Bar the book, which Hongjoong wasn’t even there to witness you throw, you’d been nothing but a good girl. Perhaps a little disrespectful at times, but nothing Hongjoong couldn’t have handled quickly and efficiently by himself.
“No?” Seonghwa tugs you onto the bed as he speaks. The hand that rests on your body works hard to rearrange you until you’re straddling him prettily. He admires the way your tiny little skirt bunches up at the top of your thighs, revealing the wet patch at the front of your panties. His eyes can hardly tear themselves away, and his dick begins to stir beneath the translucent fabric of his robe, “perhaps he just thinks a good fucking is what you need, my lamb. Is that it? Do you need your Mommy to help look after you, hm?”
This time you nod. You’d love nothing more than for Seonghwa to take care of you - he always does it so well. So slow that you can’t help but become dizzy with desperation; so soft that you can’t help but feel like a precious artefact being studied under Seonghwa’s watchful gaze; so loving that you feel nothing but safe in his grasp, able to turn off your mind and just enjoy him.
Seonghwa.
And upon that revelation, the man finally lets the bow slip open. Your corset loosens, gaping a little at the top. Your tits help to hold it up, but as Seonghwa begins to work on loosening the ribbon, you feel it start to slip away.
“Arms up,” he says as he grabs the material. You do as he asks, and he wastes no time in setting your top half free. You know better than to try and hide yourself from him, so when you lower your arms once more they remain glued to your sides - just as Seonghwa’s eyes remain glued to your chest. “Pretty little lamb,” he whispers, his face remaining stoic but his words soft. You can tell he means them.
“Do you want to take your skirt off too?” You nod, “Go ahead then, lamb; mommy can't do everything for you.” And whilst you’re under the impression that Seonghwa can - and mostly does - do everything for you, you obey. Slipping off of his lap, your hands work on the zipper, easing it down until the skirt can no longer stay up. Without so much of a touch from you, it slips down your thighs, exposing your white panties completely. You remove the skirt the rest of the way, throwing it on top of your corset to create a messy little pile of clothes upon Hongjoong’s pillow.
You look to Seonghwa for further guidance, your restless mind seems to enjoy being told what to do. It craves the softness that you so often get from him. The gentle touch and the gentle words that soothe you. The strict instructions that stop you from having to think for yourself, Seonghwa and Hongjoong - Mommy and Daddy - taking care of you entirely. It’s exactly what you need right now.
“My darling lamb,” Seonghwa whispers as he holds his arms out for you. You shuffle forward slightly, allowing him to tug you into a horizontal embrace, “Whilst I do love you in the family colours,” you know he means black - he and Hongjoong so often dress you up in expensive black lingerie before a night of intimacy. they love making you ‘theirs’ in any way possible, and wearing the ‘family colour’ is just another way to do that, “I must admit that the way your pretty pussy slicks up these dainty white panties is a lovely sight.”
His hands work together, arranging your body in his grasp until you’re lying just perfect for him. Your head sits in the crook of one elbow, leaving his hand free to play with your hair. The other arm lays on the soft flesh of your tummy. You relax into his touch, despite the fact that his hand is already beginning to move south. Still, he makes every movement so intentional that when his fingers do eventually reach the wet patch on your panties, it only makes you relax even further into him.
“So wet, lamb,” he murmurs into your ear, “who caused this?”
Obviously, he knows the answer, but he can’t help but take the opportunity to tease you. To see you squirm under his gaze as he waits for your answer is so entertaining to him. He knows it’s even more entertaining when you begin to stutter as pleasure wracks through your body; he begins to draw lazy circles against your clothed clit.
“Y-you and daddy,” you reply, voice breathy as Seonghwa increases the pressure on your sensitive bud, “you a-always make me so wet, Mommy…”
He chuckles as he feels your hips twitch against his fingers. You want more, and whilst normally Seonghwa would have you wait for it, teasing you until he’s decided you're ready for it, he can’t help but want to indulge you in your desires now. You're so good for him, he thinks to himself as he changes the pace a little. As your face screws up in pleasure, a smile rises to his own.
He continues at that pace, gauging how you're feeling by your facial expressions and the pretty sounds you make. When you bite your lip or furrow your brow, he knows you want more and so he adds more pressure until your mouth gapes wide and little high-pitched moans come from the back of your throat. That's how he knows you're happy. That is what he always aims to achieve because his pleasure, and Hongjoong’s for that matter, often comes from yours. Making the sweet little creature that they’d so lovingly taken under their wing happy is all they truly desire.
And you are, happy that is; falling apart under Seonghwa’s gentle touch will always be where you’re happiest. It's even better when he finally slips your panties to the side and puts his warm, delicate fingers directly onto your clit. You let out a heavy sigh as he spreads your lips with his index and ring finger, giving his middle finger an open pathway to the little button that is practically throbbing with the need to be played with again. And when he touches it, this time directly, it's even more electric than it was before. A bolt of pleasure shoots through you and you struggle to pin yourself to the bed. Your spine arches as you let out a loud whine. Fuck, it feels so good, and he’s barely even touched you yet.
Seonghwa begins to rub circles again, only this time without any barrier to dull the sensation. Magical, is the only word that you can use to describe the way it feels, each tender touch sending shocks of lightning through your body. It's like you don't have control over it as your hips buck against his hand, socked feet desperately rubbing against one another as it will do anything to help you ground yourself. Nothing can help now, not when Seonghwa has you feeling so high with just a few simple touches.
It doesn't take long until you feel it building up inside of you, racing to the top of that peak quicker than you can comprehend. You can feel your hole clenching around thin air, desperately trying to grip onto nothing. Perhaps Weonghwa would finger your next, preparing you for whatever is yet to come. You think you’d like nothing more than to be spread open with his lithe fingers, and it's that thought that finally pushes you over the ledge.
Your orgasm hits as the door swings even further open and Hongjoong walks in just in time to see you squirming under Seonghwa’s touch. He smirks at the sight of his darling husband taking such wonderful care of their little love, caressing your hair as he guides you through the intense feeling that is flowing through your body so rampantly. His fingers slow to a stop at just the right second, leaving you a panting mess in his arms.
“What a time to arrive,” Hongjoong says, voice clear as a bell as he makes his presence known. Seonghwa, of course, noticed him the second he walked in; the pair always did seem to have this weird, almost telepathic thing going on. They told you it was just true love at work, which was something you wholeheartedly believed, “It always is such a beautiful sight to see you cum, my dove. I could watch it forever and never get bored.”
Seonghwa hums out a chuckle at that, “Now isn't that a novel idea, lamb!” He presses a kiss to your temple, “Perhaps we’ll have to do that one day; a full day of making you cum over and over and over again”
“Maybe, Mommy,” is all you can spit out in response to their teasing, nodding along as if you're not dreading the idea of a whole day of overstimulation. The two men smile at your eagerness to please despite your obvious displeasure. Perhaps they’d suggest it again when you aren’t as lust-drunk as you seem to be now. Their only goal at this moment is to satiate you, not fulfil their own fantasies. They could wait a little while to put those into play.
Hongjoong shrugs off his jacket before clambering onto the bed, effectively trapping you between the two of them. Just like Seonghwa, he takes a moment to play with the hair that frames your face. He twists a strand between two fingers before tucking it behind your ear. Upon closer inspection, he can't help but notice the H pendant that dangles from your lobe. He wonders if Seonghwa has noticed the matching S sitting in your other ear, yet. It always does make the tall man so happy to see you wearing one of the many gifts they shower you in.
“I have something for you,” Hongjoong says, the earrings acting as a reminder of the box he’s had stored in the drawer of his nightstand for what seems like forever, now. They had been waiting for the right moment to present it to you, but right now seems as ‘right’ as any, “would you like to see it?”
You watch as he leans over to pull open his drawer, fetching a black oblong box from its confines. The box itself is nothing of note, but he passes it to you with such care, and you just know that whatever is inside of it is special. Your eyes meet with his, asking for permission to open it. He gives you a single nod in return.
You slip the lid off of the box.
“Oh,” you whisper as you lay eyes on what appears to be a collar of some sort. A thin velvet band that locks with a clasp at the back and finishes with a delicate bow at the front. Intricate lace frills surround the velvet, giving the collar more volume, yet keeping its soft appearance. A pastel pink pearl drips from a tiny metal ring that sits at the centre of the bow. Behind it is a petite chrome plate embossed with the letters ‘H&S’ in a fanciful font. It's beautiful, and you can't help but tell them that.
“You like it?” Seonghwa asked, tilting your chin up so you were looking him in the eyes. With the most genuine smile you can muster, you nod, “I’m glad.”
You feel Hongjoong close in beside you. He reaches an arm over your body to pick the collar up with a gentle hand. The velvet shifts in the dim light that shines from the chandelier above, and it changes colour right before your eyes, from black to a beautiful shade of magenta. You seem to recall Seonghwa wearing a similar dress once upon a time. It was black, just like your collar, but whenever he moved, the fabric rippled and in doing so, caused it to shift into a deep crimson. He and Hongjoong had waltzed together that night. It's nothing out of the ordinary for them, but that night sticks out to you specifically because of the sheer beauty of Seonghwa's dress.
“We wanted to give you something to remind you that you are ours,” Hongjoong tells you, voice as soft as the velvet on the collar, “because you are. From the moment we saw you, we knew you were ours. From now until forever, dove.”
And with that, he presses the fabric to your throat, dragging his fingers along it until they reach the clasp at the back. He fastens it, fingers lingering for a moment before pulling away empty-handed. You struggle to hide your smile as your mind fumbles over itself, repeating ‘theirs, theirs, theirs,’ over and over as if the fabric pressing into your jugular wasn't enough of a reminder of that fact.
With your newfound sense of belonging that you hadn't even realised you were missing, you find it easy to lean forward and take what is rightfully yours. Your eyes flutter closed as you steal a kiss from Seonghwa. Upon feeling your lips bump against his, lacking the grace or elegance he was used to when initiating kisses himself, he can't help but let out a surprised squeak. He soon finds his feet, though, taking control back in a matter of seconds and pushing you back against Hongjoong’s solid body. The clothed chest acts as a support for Seonghwa as he wraps a hand around your throat, softly stroking the jewellery as he deepens the kiss.
A tongue slips between your lips as a hand slips beneath the waistband of your panties. You struggle to focus on the way Seonghwa licks into your mouth when Hongjoong tugs the white fabric down your thighs, fully exposing you while the two men remain at least somewhat covered. You shift your legs slightly to aid him in his mission of removing them fully, never once pulling away from Seonghwa. You might’ve mentally praised yourself for multitasking if it weren't for Seonghwa shifting his body slightly, hard dick now pressing against your lower stomach through the tulle of his robe. Just one flick of the wrist and it would be fully exposed, ready to slip inside of you.
You moan into Seonghwa’s mouth.
He pulls away, panting desperately as he regains breath.
“Hell above, lamb,” Seonghwa utters, adams apple bobbing as he exclaims, “You really are a most devilish creature under that innocent exterior, aren't you? Pouncing on me like a little bear cub, hm?”
You go to answer, a touch of snarkiness on the tip of your tongue. Barely a sound leaves your lips, though, as a finger presses into your core and your words turn into a long, drawn-out whine. The finger bottoms out pretty soon, and that's how you can tell it’s Hongjoong’s; shorter than Seonghwa’s by a mile, yet ever so slightly thicker. As he adds a second almost immediately, you can't help but moan at the stretch.
“Fuck, Daddy,” you keen. Your head tips forward, landing with a heavy thud against the exposed part of Seonghwa’s chest, “your fingers feel so good.” He curls them inside of you, tempting a tiny squark from your lips. Then he does it again, routinely twisting them as he pumps them in and out. The sound they make as they swim amongst your gooey wetness is quite frankly obscene, but you find it hard to feel humiliated when so much pleasure flows through you.
Then you feel a second pair of fingers line up against your core, bullying their way in alongside Hongjoong’s. The stretch makes you choke on your spit, gurgling slightly as the longer pair brush against the squishy membrane of your g-spot. Like Hongjoong had moments before, Seonghwa begins to curve them slightly, petting your walls as his husband continues thrusting in and out.
The stretch is immense, almost reaching the familiar girth of Seonghwa’s cock. Like his fingers, it was long and whilst not necessarily thin, it didn't quite match up to the girth of Hongjoong’s. For that reason, you usually take Seonghwa first, but as you feel yet another finger press into your core, you can't help but wonder whether they’re prepping you to take Hongjoong first instead.
The fingers work together to open you up, spreading you wider than usual. You don't complain, letting them do whatever they choose with your body while you lay there limp and ready for them to take in whatever way they deem fit. They know your body well enough for you to give them full control. You trust them with yourself fully.
Hongjoong slips his three fingers out, and before long you can hear slurping above your head. Seonghwa’s fingers stutter within you, and you can’t help but feel a little curious. You flick your gaze to Seonghwa’s face, jaw dropping upon seeing his lips wrapped around Hongjoong’s digits, licking them clean of your juices. His eyelashes flutter gracefully against his porcelain-smooth cheeks, and even with his husband's fingers down his throat you can’t help but think he’s beautiful.
Hongjoong pulls them loose with a pop and dries the mixture of your juices and Seonghwa’s spit against his suit pants before he unzips them, his cock springing free almost immediately. It’s angry and red with precum flowing freely from the tip as if it’s about to explode if it doesn’t get something soon. You reach an arm out to touch it, but Hongjoong darts a hand out to catch it.
He tuts.
“Patience, little dove,” he whispers with a smirk, “Mommy may have let you take what you want, but I still expect you to do as I say.”
He wastes no time in shifting down the bed, gracefully moving until the head of his cock is lined up with your core. You half expect Seonghwa to pull his fingers free, but he doesn't. Hongjoong’s blunt head presses into your still-stuffed hole, only just breaching the pink rim. It's a painful stretch with Seonghwa’s fingers still inside of you, but Hongjoong goes slow, allowing your cunt to accommodate him at its own pace. With Seonghwa still petting that one spot, you find it fairly easy to let pleasure take over, the pain becoming more and more bearable until it fades into nothing.
It feels like it takes an age for Hongjoong to bottom out. Despite his cock not being tremendously long - perhaps even a little shorter than average - it seems to go on forever as he pushes it into you. The delicious stretch combined with the constant assault on your g-spot sends you hurtling towards another orgasm. All it takes is for Hongjoong’s pelvis to finally come to a standstill against yours, his thick cock fully sheathed within your warm, wet cavern, and you're coming undone. Your walls tighten around him, pressing Seonghwa’s fingers up against the shaft of Hongjoong’s cock. The latter bows his head and lets his jaw go slack. A guttural moan falls from his throat as he tries his hardest not to cum on the spot.
“My darling lamb,” Seonghwa chuckles into your ear as he slows his fingers to a stop. You're grateful for the break in stimulation, although you know it isn't bound to last, “you’re so sensitive tonight. It makes me wonder how you might react when I’m inside of you too. I bet you’d like that, yes? Mommy and daddy inside of you at the same time?”
You nod, although you don't quite let the true meaning of his words sink in. All you know is that you want them both, so incredibly bad. Your passionate, commanding Hongjoong hand in hand with your caring yet fiercely protective Seonghwa; they’d keep you with them forever if you let them. You’d live in their macabre bubble, surrounded by their morbid warmth and ghastly traditions. Your days would be filled with them; Hongjoong could teach you to fence or play chess, and Seonghwa would no doubt teach you about all the deadly plants he keeps in his greenhouse. You’d spend your evenings watching them Waltz in front of the fireplace, a funeral march playing from their old megaphone. Perhaps you’d join them from time to time, pressed to Hongjoong’s front as Seonghwa directs your movements from the chez.
And once the evening activities have drawn to a close, they’d drag you upstairs to bed to take you apart piece by piece. Each night they would push you to the edge of sanity before slowly bringing you back down to earth. They’d treat you like the most precious thing on the planet; a ruby to be polished and protected.
You want it more than anything. Seonghwa and Hongjoong - mommy and daddy - forever and always.
“Want you, Mommy,” you whisper, choking on your own words as Hongjoong begins to pull out slowly until only the tip is left sitting within your velvety walls. You cry out as his hips snap forward, propelling his entire length into you once more. It feels so good, and Seonghwa takes the hint to begin moving his fingers once more. It drives you insane. Chants of ‘please, please,’ fill the air, although you aren't quite sure what you’re begging for.
Seonghwa looks to Hongjoong, who lifts his head to see the silent question on his lover's face.
“One more, Cara Mia,” he grunts out as he pistons his hips into you, “she’s so tight.”
“Of course, Mi Amor,” Seonghwa hums and a mere few seconds pass by before you feel a third finger press against your entrance. You squirm as he pushes it inside of you, wriggling its way inside beside Hongjoong’s cock and his other two fingers. It's a snug fit, but you find it much easier to get used to than the initially painful stretch of Hongjoong’s member.
And even with the third finger added, they do much of the same, Seonghwa gently massaging your walls as Hongjoong pounds into you. The force of his hips increases with each thrust, making your mind go hazy. It's only made worse when Seonghwa begins to spread his fingers within you, making you squeal. His hand that still rests behind your head quickly comes to sit upon your fluffed-up barnet, petting it soothingly as he stretches you out even further.
You're babbling nonsense at this point, but neither man pays it any mind as they work you open past what you thought to be your limit. They're encouraged by the tiny pleas, keeping up their pace as you’re faced with a third orgasm. Perhaps that was what Seonghwa was waiting for because as he feels your walls tighten around his fingers, he begins to slip them out. You whine at the loss, even though Hongjoong is still working hard to fuck you through your orgasm, whilst somehow still staving his own off. Seonghwa just hushes you with a small peck to the lips.
He puts a hand on your shoulder, shifting you and Hongjoong ever so slightly. Just enough so he can slip behind you, his warm chest pressing up against your spine. For a moment, you wonder what he's doing, but then the chiffon of his robe moves to expose his cock and you’re struck by a sudden realisation of what both at the same time actually means.
That would explain why they were so determined to stretch you out…
Hongjoong’s hips slow to a stop with his member still deep inside of you as you feel the head of Seonghwa’s brush against your entrance. You moan as he forces the tip in with only a small amount of resistance from your stretched-out pussy. The unpleasant burn of being opened up is there again, but you bite your lip and let Seonghwa push himself into you alongside Hongjoong. You know the pain will dissipate soon, having already experienced it once with Hongjoong just a short while prior, but holy fuck does it hurt right now.
A helpful finger - although, in your dizzy state you can't quite work out who’s it is - finds its way to your clit, rubbing firm yet somehow also delicate circles on the little bundle of nerves. As you focus on the pleasure you get from that, it’s fairly easy to forget about the unpleasant ache between your thighs, and within minutes you’re once more able to relax into the ministrations of the men.
You whimper as the taller man bottoms out much quicker than Hongjoong did; perhaps he was just desperate from having to watch his husband fuck you for a while first. His tip gently brushes against your cervix, pulling a gasp from your lips as you feel him grazing against the sensitive muscle. He shushes you in your ear as he slowly begins to move. His thrusts are lazier than Hongjoong’s, slower and gentler just as they always are. It suits him; he always had been more restrained and patient than his shorter counterpart who is also beginning to thrust into you once more.
The contrast between the way the two men treat your body, as well as the determined finger upon your button, is enough to drive you crazy. You’re left as nothing but a moaning mess between them, squirming as they fuck into you at different paces; Seonghwa slow and gentle and Hongjoong quick and animalistic. You’re putty in their hands at this point, purely there for them to use and pump full of cum.
It doesn't take long for Hongjoong to do just that.
“I’m close, my dove,” he groans into your ear, “your precious cunt is squeezing me so tight; I can't hold on any longer.”
Mere moments later, his hips stutter to a stop, his dick still deep inside of you. You know exactly what’s coming, but it still doesn’t stop you from moaning as you feel the thick, warm liquid fill you to the brim. Seonghwa only fucks it deeper, forcing the feeling of fullness upon you. You expect it to vanish any minute; Hongjoong will pull out and the cum will flow out with him.
He doesn’t, though; more accurately, Seonghwa doesn’t let him.
Just as you feel Hongjoong begin to retract his softening cock, the hand that lies against your pubis, fingers dancing upon your clit, shoots out to catch his hip. He whines, more pathetic than you’ve ever heard him before; it’s a beautiful sound, and you can’t help but clench around them when you hear it.
“Cara mia, please,” he whimpers, jaw opening wide in a silent moan as Seonghwa continues to thrust into you, cock rubbing repeatedly against Hongjoong’s own oversensitive member, “it’s too much.”
You’ve never seen him so submissive before, and you have to admit you find it hotter than you feel you should. The two of you moan out in unison, the combination of Seonghwa’s languid movements combined with the control he has over the both of you is enough to send you spiralling to the end. You can feel it coming, but with the lack of stimulation on your clit, you can’t quite get there. You open your mouth to protest, but then Seonghwa’s tip pushes through the milky cum to brush against your cervix, and your mind is once again empty.
“But you can take it, Mi Amor,'' Seonghwa taunts from behind you, voice low and velvety in your ear. In a last-ditch attempt to keep any semblance of your sanity, you let your hands shoot out to grab at Hongjoong’s black shirt. It’s damp with sweat beneath your hands, but as you squeeze the soft material between your fingers, you can’t find it in you to care. “You can take it so our little lamb can feel good; keep her stuffed full until her Mommy can cum inside of her too.”
Hongjoong nods wordlessly, too focused on panting his way through the overstimulation to form any words. Through hooded eyes you watch his face contort with pained pleasure, eyes squeezing shut and brow furrowing as your fluttering walls and Seonghwa’s twitching cock torture his sensitive shaft. He looks so beautiful, and while you know you’ll probably never have the chance to overpower him in such a manner, you're happy you can at least bear witness to it now.
And with the knowledge that Hongjoong will behave, Seonghwa moves his fingers back to your clit. They dive straight in, tweaking the throbbing bud in a way that draws a loud cry of pleasure from your lips. Your walls tighten around both men’s members; an action which has them simultaneously moaning in your ears. Knowing just how much of an effect you have on the two men encourages you to constrict them within your walls again.
It must feel good since that's all it takes to have Seonghwa come to a standstill inside of you, ropes of his cum emptying into your womb and mixing with Hongjoong’s. It's beautifully warm as it shoots up against your cervix. That alone is enough to have you clenching down on them once more.
Seonghwa grunts as you milk him dry, and the moment he's finished spilling his load inside of you, he taps Hongjoong’s hip to get him to pull out of you. Perhaps it's that - the final drag of their dicks against your walls - that pushes you careening off the edge into your final orgasm of the night. Your entire body tightens as your vision turns white for just a moment. You can feel your back arch and your hips buck as Seonghwa continues to toy with your clit, but it's like your mind is separate from your body, unable to control anything that it does in response to the mind-blowing climax.
He takes his fingers away at just the right moment, not wanting to push you any further than you already have been tonight.
Still, it takes a moment or two for you to come back down to earth, the remnants of the orgasm sending endorphins racing through your body as you try to catch your breath. It seems the men on either side of you are in the same boat, heavy breathing the only sound you can hear. It's pleasant to feel their chests rising and falling against you, but the comfort you gain from it doesn't take away from just how empty you feel now.
And perhaps it's that or the sudden crash of adrenaline that makes your throat tighten and tears begin to build up upon your lash line. The first one falls, pretty quickly, but it doesn't get very far as Hongjoong kisses it away. His lips linger against your face, relishing the way your hot skin feels against them.
“Why are you crying, my lamb?” Seonghwa whispers against your ear. His fingers lift up to brush against your face, swiping away another stray tear, “are you that happy?”
“Empty,” you correct, voice stuffy as you allow yourself to cry, “but, I guess happy too. How could I not be when I’m with you two?”
They both hum in amusement as they crowd you with their bodies. You’re stuffed between them; the weird pastel meat in an equally weird gothic sandwich, and you wouldn't want to be anywhere else. Not when you know now that you’re theirs, and they’re yours - the tag of the collar that dangles against your throat reminds you of that fact. You pick it up between your fingers, toying with the cold metal.
“I can’t do anything about you feeling empty, I’m afraid,” Seonghwa says, “but I’m certainly pleased you’re happy, my little lamb.”
“You could stuff me back up?” You say, only half in jest. Hongjoong scoffs and shakes his head in a desperate refusal; clearly, he’s still too sensitive.
Part of you wants to take advantage of that and tease him a little. It would be so easy to shuffle and ‘accidentally’ brush your thigh against his cock. If you’re careful, you’ll definitely be able to avoid suspicion, and if you get caught you doubt you’ll get much more than a warning. Still, as you look upon his face and see nothing but adoration, the thoughts seem to vanish into thin air.
You let go of your collar, pressing the hand against his cheek instead and use it to hold him in place as you peck the tip of his nose. The metal of the collar clinks as he scrunches his nose up in mock dismay and gently pushes you back into Seonghwa’s chest. You giggle, and its music to their ears; so soft and bright that if it belonged to anyone else, they would’ve found themselves put off by it.
Since it belongs to you, though, it's become their favourite sound.
——————————————————————————
tagged - @vesvosmozhno
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astraystayyh · 3 months
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please fall before i fall
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jeongin x reader. best friends to lovers. they think it's unrequited love so a bit of angst. but they're just idiots. happy ending :))
summary : 3 times you saved jeongin's ass and the 1 time he saved yours (and ended up confessing along the way). holidays themed.
winter falls masterlist.
a.n. : i am very happy to finally post my first fic for the winter falls collab with my author xi hehehehhe i hope you'll enjoy this one <333 it's very light and fluffy she's the cute one!! oh and my song rec is i bet on losing dogs by mitski
One. 
Jeongin’s thumb hovers over your contact name, his rosy lip pulled tightly between his teeth. He hesitates for a few seconds before finally dialing your number. 
“What do you want?” you start which makes an incredulous snort escape his lips, a gust of powdery air materializing before his mouth from the cold. 
“How much do I have to pay you for you to come over?” 
“Ten thousand dollars. Cash,” you precise as he mouths along to what you say, already guessing what your next words would be. 
He's come to know you at an abhorrent speed these past few months; since you sat right next to him in your biology class, head buried in an oversized navy hoodie. Your perfume knocked into him like a gentle breeze— Sicilian lemon and white bouquet notes, nostalgic summer amid an unforgiven autumn. Memories of sticky fingers from molten ice cream and feet soles meeting the warm sand wafted in the air, alluring him to the kindness of a long-gone summer, you. 
That is why he talked to you at first, because you smelled nice, incredibly so. He tells you it's because he liked the pair of shoes you were wearing. 
“What if I brought you your favorite coffee?”
“Are you outside my dorm?” you squeal and he imagines you must be scrambling to get up, opening the curtains. He knows he's right as your figure materializes behind the window. “Hi,” you wave, a small giggle escaping your lips. He can't help the fond smile that draws upon his lips. 
He thinks he likes you a little. 
“Hey, please help me wrap my family’s gifts,” he pouts, waving the coffee in the air. Your order that he memorized by heart, not even meaning to, it was just natural for him to order you coffee every day, to remember your preferences as if they were his own. 
“Why are you here if we're going to your dorm anyways?” you laugh, leaning against the window. 
“Because I know I need to bribe you,” he sighs, angling his head to the side. “Are you not going to hang up and come downstairs? The coffee will grow cold.”
“I’m coming!”
An hour later, four gifts are resting beside Jeongin's figure, perfectly wrapped thanks to your skilled hands. He's lying on the warmed tiles, and you're right beside him, so close your knee brushes against his thigh now and then. 
He is keeping count, well, more so his heart, constricting in his lungs each time you touch. 
He's so aware of you, so much he's sure you’ve crawled into his skin, morphing him into nothing but a shell of you. 
Perhaps he likes you a lot. 
“You're an insane man. Who leaves gift wrapping to the last minute?”
“You're best friends with said insane man.” 
“Remind me how did that happen again?” you ask, propping your head on your elbow, and turning to the side to look at him. Jeongin has to pretend that the sight of you hovering over him doesn't affect him. That his eyes aren't drawn to your lips, heart dissolving at your feet, hoping to brush against your own. 
Please fall before I fall, he nearly pleads.
“Why are you so close,” he feigns disgust, pushing your face away with his pointer finger. 
“What? Does that fluster you?” you question, amused, bringing your face even closer to his. He scrambles away before a blush sprouts on his face, one he wouldn't be able to justify to your scrutinizing gaze. 
“As if. You're ugly,” his eyes squint, lips thinning into that particular smile he knows annoys you. He moves to the side swiftly, anticipating the shoe you throw at him.
“You're literally— remind me to never help you again, asshole.”
“I'm kidding. Thank you for today, seriously. I didn't know wrapping gifts could be this hard.” He falls back to the floor dramatically, banging his head against the tiles in the process.
“Well deserved,” you whisper. 
“I heard that.”
“Good,” you giggle, before gently massaging the spot where he has bumped his head. He purses his lips against one another, afraid of what words might escape the confines of his throat, vocal cords moving to the gentle rhythm of your touch. 
“Will you keep on being this clumsy, Innie? mm?” you muse, tone quieter. 
The nickname makes his insides churn, it is always so tender when it falls from your lips. No one has ever called him this softly before. No one has ever called his heart before you. 
He shouldn't be this clumsy with it. It is a fragile organ, akin to glass, easily breakable, so translucent— it'd be easy for anyone to peer inside and find you in it. 
“Yeah, I probably will.”
He'll stop liking you next year. He hopes. He'll try. 
Two.
Next year has come, familiar frigid winds pulling you to Jeongin’s heart, perhaps even more so than before, cementing your being into the nooks and crannies of his soul, perfectly so, as if it was destined for you alone to fill the emptiness inside him. 
Seasons have changed and yet summer remains, its essence stored safely within the notes of your perfume, it tickles his nose as you're seated on the countertop, legs swinging lazily while he scouts through his fridge. 
“Remind me why we're doing this again?”
“Because I made a bet with Yoon.”
“Your sixteen years old brother?”
“Yes.”
“You are in college.”
“I know.”
“Why are you taking it to heart?” 
“Because I have my pride,” he says solemnly, hand on his heart and you roll your eyes. 
“You literally begged at my feet fifteen minutes ago to help you.”
A year later, Jeongin stood beneath your window once again, phone brought up to his ear, hand hidden behind his back. You pick up on the first ring. 
“Look out the window,” he quickly says before you can even speak. 
“Hello, Y/n, how are you, Y/n, are you surviving with the cold—” you say sarcastically as you pull the curtains, the words dissolving in your tongue as he brings a single flower before him— you recognize its pink petals easily, Camellia, the rose of winter.
“I did not have time for coffee, but I plucked this off the sidewalk,” he offers, an amused grin on his face. “Help me bake cookies, pretty please, I'll be forever indebted to you. Forever and ever and ever and ever—”
“This is such a poor rendition of Romeo and Juliet, I'm afraid Shakespeare is suffering in his grave right now.”
“Do you think he knows of every theater play that was done to his story?” Jeongin muses.
“That's a good question actually. I hope he didn't see mine,” you shudder before your face pales. 
“You did not tell me you ever did that!”
“I'll bake your cookies and you'll never bring this up again.”
“Deal. My Juliet,” he smirks and you throw a middle finger aggressively to his face before hanging up. He shouldn't find it as endearing as he does.
“Because, my dear Y/n, this is my holiday reputation at stake. I kind of raised the bar last year with my gift wrapping.”
“You did?” you raise an eyebrow promptly at his words and he sighs, taking out the butter before leaning against the fridge.
“We did. Which is exactly why I need your help again. Imagine how embarrassing it would be if Yoon wins,” he shudders and a giggle finally escapes your lips.
The kitchen warms up at the sight of your smile.
“It's cute when you need me once in a while,” you say nonchalantly, hopping off the counter and moving to wash your hands. Jeongin freezes in his place.
“I always need you though,” he confesses quickly, swallowing the words, hoping that this way you wouldn't be able to taste the sincerity coating them, sticky honey dripping from his tongue whenever it speaks of you.
“Good thing you'll always have me then,” you beam, your words hanging into the air, oxygen suddenly harder to inhale.
“Gross,” he fakes a shiver, as his heart drops in his chest, breaks, and twists at the weight your words carry.
He'll always have you, but not in the way he wants to, your eyes would never soften at the mere mention of his name, and you won't think that a season blooms into every room he is in. He has you, but just a fragment of you, not how you have him, as a whole, heart, body, and soul. 
He's already fallen, a terrible, terrible fall.
“Will you help me or just stare off into the distance?” you ask, tilting your head to the side. He smiles bashfully, rolling his sleeves and sidling by your side to mix in the eggs, one by one, per your instructions. 
It smells nice in the kitchen, the caramelized fragrance of browned butter, sweetened by the sugar dissolving into the warm liquid. Tentative sunlight streams through the window, and it falls perfectly on Jeongin's face, highlighting his sharp features. 
Not that jeongin needs any additional light, he reminds you of spring, a flower blooming on his face each time he smiles, his dimples two youthful fountains the roots strive from, brightening his face even more. 
He tentatively glances at you as he adds the chocolate chips to the mix, only to find you staring forward. He misses the fond look on your face by a few seconds, the tinting of your features with soft hues of pink, of spring, of him. He always misses it, always misses you. 
Three.
"I can't believe you have 37 pairs of shoes but not one nice shirt.”
“It's 36, please count correctly,” Jeongin retaliates and you snort, flopping around in bed till you land on your stomach, chin propped up by your hand. Jeongin is still rummaging through his closet, head almost disappearing into the dark void of his wardrobe. 
“What do you need this for anyway?” you question, as you scroll through your phone mindlessly. Jeongin’s eerie silence causes you to look up. 
“Um. I have a date tonight.”
“Oh.” 
His words hang over the room like a heavy cloak soaked with rain, the oxygen sucked out of your lungs and ensnared within that singular gasp.
Jeongin swiftly turns around, before kneeling beside the bed, eyes brimming with a hopeless search— you are too focused on steadying your breathing to notice.
“Should I go?”
“I mean… Why are you asking me?”
“If you don't want me to, I won't,” he speaks in an overflowing sincerity, as though he'd willingly surrender the reins of his life for you to guide, should you only dare to ask. 
A breath, a pause, and he adds, “In case you'll be lonely tonight.” Your hope deflates in an instant, akin to a birthday balloon tossed into the careless hands of children. 
Pity, that's what he feels for someone who hasn't had a date in a year while he went on ones regularly. Although they never transcended beyond that first meeting, always a first date, never a second. He says none of the people he meets are his type. 
“I have a date too.” It was the truth, Suhoo had told you to meet him at the ice rink. You said you'd think about it. You knew deep down that your answer would be no, solely because he isn't Jeongin.
Perhaps it is too late for him to fall for you.  
“Really?” 
“Yeah, with Suhoo, you know, the guy in our Economics class.”
“He's nice.”
“Mm.” 
Could you lose something you never had in the first place?
“You should wear Seungmin’s white shirt.” 
“Yeah. That's what I thought too.”
“And bring them flowers. The rose of winter, maybe.” 
You had preserved the plucked flower he gave you in a vase. The pink of the petals liquefying and bleeding into the blush on Jeongin’s cheeks once he noticed. 
“That one's just for you.” 
Four. 
You're alone on the ice rink, the frigid winds assail your form, fingers numb from winter's cruel grasp. Suhoo didn't come after all, perhaps he was offended by you calling him at the last minute to confirm your date.
The chill of disappointment is more biting than the frost— you want to melt off the ice, you want your spring. You want your Jeongin. 
But he isn't yours, perhaps he will never be. He is too sought after, too captivated by the fleeting chase of someone new to spare a glance at you. 
But in this instant, you need him. You need him to hold your hands in his larger, warmer ones and get you off the ice rink. You need the sight of his familiar dimples and blooming smile. 
So, you call him. He picks up on the first ring. 
“Are you that bored on your date?” He playfully taunts, and his voice becomes a gentle breeze that stirs the emotions you struggle to contain. Tears cascade down your cheeks in an achingly familiar path. 
“I-Innie,” you hiccup, and you’re instantly met with the sound of scraping chairs against the floor, the hastening cadence of footsteps hurrying out into the street. 
“Did he do something to you?” He speaks so coldly, a tone so foreign to the warmth of your Jeongin. He shouldn't be tainted with winter too. 
“He didn't come. Can you p-please pick me up?” 
“I will. I'm coming in a bit, okay?” 
He finds you rather quickly on the ice rink, a sore thumb unmoving between the gliding bodies. He skates over to you, almost falling twice in the process. 
“You're so clumsy,” you snort as he stands before you, sobs racking through your body once more at the sight of him.
You weren't mad at Suhoo. You were heartbroken over Jeongin.
“I'll beat him up for you. I'll tell Changbin to help me too,” he smiles, hands fidgeting as they land upon your cheeks, trying their best to wipe away your tears.
“Please don't cry. I hate seeing you cry, Y/n, I really can't bear it." The tears only fall harder at his words, as if he's stringing them forth with each touch of his.
“Did he do something to you?” an unknown voice startles you and you turn to your right to find a girl looking at you then at Jeongin, a frown etched on her eyebrows.
“No, I'm her friend I didn't-”
“I wasn't talking to you,” the girl cuts him off and you laugh despite you, as Jeongin’s jaw hangs open, before closing once more.
“It's not him, thank you so much though,” you smile gratefully and she nods, eyes wary as she glares at Jeongin one last time, before skating away.
“I can't believe that just happened,” He exhales, a breath tinged with bewilderment, before he delicately encircles a hand around your back. Gently, he guides your head to rest against the comforting refuge of his chest.
“What are you doing?” you mumble against his navy hoodie, the one he borrowed from you. You can still smell your perfume on him. 
“I'm comforting you.” 
“You don't like hugs.” 
“It's different when it comes to you.”
You close your eyes, allowing the tide of his warmth to envelop you like a cascade of spring petals.
“Where is your date?”
“I didn't go.”
“Why is that?”
“Because I love you. I'm tired of looking for you in other people,” he quickly says and you peel yourself away from him, feeling as if his clothes were suddenly made of fire. 
“What?” you whisper, eyes glistening with unshed tears.
“I love you,” he repeats, each word drawn out, much slower this time, his hands cradling your face, tenderly, as though holding the sun between his delicate fingers. “I'm tired of pretending you're not my summer.”
“Don't say things you don't mean,” your voice wavers. 
“I mean it. I've always loved you. You complete me in ways I didn't know were possible, and I know you only see me as a friend but-”
Your lips press against his, a culmination of aching desires that have lingered for two years. Distant laughter echoes in the background, ice cream melting onto your fingers, a soft breeze ruffling your hair, flowers blooming under the soft caress of the sun— two seasons melting sweetly into the kiss.
“You're literally so blind,” you giggle against his lips, and his smile widens, your noses brushing against one another. “I love you too, idiot.”
“You love me?”
“You're my favorite season.” 
“Don't steal my lines.”
“Hey—” he kisses you this time, the winter is long forgotten. 
Was it ever a fall if you caught him in the end?
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dumplingsjinson · 5 months
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List of “mix of random dialogue and non-dialogue, smut and non-smut” prompts
“I’m a mess because of you.” “You’re my mess.” “I’m… I’m your mess.” (FUCKING HELLO BITCH DO NOT- WLKFNFKLN I’ll get on my knees for you, my love—)
“That’s my baby girl/baby boy.” (Can he just— HEWOQKNFWKELNF) 
“You look so hot like that.”
“God, you turn me on so much.”
“Fuck, I’m gonna come—” Character B whimpers, hips bucking into Character A’s. “Mm, yeah? Then come for me,” Character A murmurs, stroking their fingers through Character B’s hair. (The noises he made as he came undone were SO FUCKING HOT BYE. those WHIMPERS?? FUCKING DELICIOUSSSSS LET ME HEAR MORE OF THEM, I BEG- ALSO WHO KNEW I HAD IT IN ME TO SAY THAT TO SOMEONE LMFAO, “then come for me” WQBHRELWJKNEWF BITCH. GET OUTTT-)
Those sweet little noises Character B tries so hard to suppress but is unable to as they come undone.
“I’m such a fucking wreck right now…”
“Imagine how good I’d feel inside of you.” (FUCKIFKSKSKKSKSKS WHEN HE SAID THAT AND I WAS LIKE LKENFKLEWNF-)
“I love you so much,” Character B murmurs, hugging Character A closer to them. (🥹🥹🥹 HE SAID IT HE SAID IT HE SAID ITTT 😭 He’s said it over text before but now it’s in person and I’m actually gonna WEEP EWKLNFWEEFN)
“I love you for you, and I’m going to continue to love you. I’ll always love and support you no matter what,” Character B reassures after Character A spills out their anxieties and worries to them about a situation they’ve been so, so scared to tell them about; scared of how Character B would react. (…I’m just going to say I love this man so much.) 
“When I first met you, I didn’t know you were like this,” Character A murmurs, slowly grinding their hips down against Character B’s. Character B grins up at them, hands wrapped around their thighs, squeezing gently. “Yeah, and I didn’t know I was like this, either. And I thought you were shy when I first met you... Now look at you, huh?” 
Character A not knowing how sensitive their breasts are until Character B pays full attention to them with their mouth. (…I WILL NOT SAY ANYTHING ELSE BUT FUCK YES—) 
Character A tearing up as they try to be vulnerable with Character B, and Character B reassuring them by telling them they can take their time and it’s okay if they can’t say it right now; that they can say it when they’re ready. 
“I don’t think I’ve ever been so enamoured by someone,” Character A murmurs, caressing Character B’s face. (I’M A POETIC SIMP, WHAT CAN I SAY—) 
“Fuck, why are you— Mmh— why are you doing this to me?”
“We can take things as slow as you want. I want you to be comfortable, and as long as you’re happy, then I’m happy.”  (PLEASE WJDJJS IM CRYING AHH, how’d I get someone so sweet sjkdms)
“We can rent a hotel somewhere… You can be as loud as you want then, hm?” (HE’S JUST FUCKING OUT HERE, YOUR HONOUR!!) 
“Fuck me,” Character A whimpers as Character B’s hips picks up with speed. “I could if you wanted me to,” Character B grunts. (SIR- FUCK OFF ISTFGGG)
Character B placing their hand on Character A’s thigh while they’re sitting down.
Character B wrapping their arm around Character A’s shoulders and pulling them closer to them, letting Character A rest their head on their shoulder.
Character B leaning in for a kiss and Character A shyly leaning in to give them a quick peck on the lips. 
“Whatever I do, I’ll always be adorable to you, won’t I? Even if I do the most heinous shit known to mankind—” “Yes. Yes, you’ll always be adorable to me.” 
“You sure you don’t wanna close the blinds? People outside could see us…” “Trust me, they won’t.” (this FUCKING GUY, but I guess he wasn’t wrong after I took a closer look at the blinds—) 
“You’re enjoying yourself up there, aren’t you?” Character B teases, watching through hooded lids as Character A rides them while clothed. “Does it look like I am?” Character A questions, breathless. 
“You just… You make me happy.” (YOU DO TOO, MY LOVE <333) 
“You’ve always been so caring and supportive of me so I don’t know why I doubted you… I’m sorry.” 
Character A being ticklish on their neck whenever Character B plants soft feather like kisses there, so Character B plants even more soft kisses there, turning Character A into a giggling mess. 
Kisses on the eyelids. (The softest shit EVER)
“Didn’t realise your objective was to get into my pants all this time,” Character B teases, and Character A rolls their eyes, a breathless laugh leaving them. “You know that’s not true. I think you’re the one who has the objective of getting into my pants,” Character A throws back. Character B shakes their head with a chuckle. “That’s not true.”
“How are we gonna manage being away from each other for a whole month?” Character A murmurs softly. “Mmmh, we’ll somehow manage,” Character B reassures, stroking their fingers through Character A’s hair.
“How are you going to manage without this for a whole month?” Character B questions as Character A grinds down on them. “I don’t think I fucking will is the thing,” Character A admits, unabashedly.
Character B moving Character A’s hair out of their face to plant gentle kisses on their face.
Character B laying their head on Character A’s stomach and Character A fondly saying to them, “You’re such a baby,” while carding their fingers through their hair.
Character B snuggling up next to Character A, post-orgasm. (SIRRRR- PEHFLKEWNELKWNF) 
Character A moaning Character B’s name and Character B losing their self-restraint over it. (Maybe I did it on purpose to turn him on—)  
2K notes · View notes
wintfleur · 2 months
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Hiii can I pls request 🌱 childhood home/room with Charles Leclerc or lewis and female reader? Loads of fluff and maybe nsfw?
For Charles like praising but if you write Lewis maybe an age gap, praising, pocessive? Soft but dominant for both and talking the reader through it with an extensive aftercare? Like all giggling and cuddling etc would loveee that
౨ৎ it’s called charm baby !
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°. — pairings ( Lewis Hamilton x female! Reader )
°. — summary ( your boyfriend knows how to make you feel better, after dinner with him meeting your family doesn’t go well )
°. — details ( g; fluff & smut. w; smut, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!!!!), cursing, hair pulling, I think that’s all?. wc; 2.7k )
﹕─┈ prompt ~ childhood room
˖ ་ 💭 roro’s notes ( I COULD NOT STOP GIGGLING AS I READ THIS NONNIE YOU ARE A GENIUS !!!! This was my first Lewis fic, and I just loved writing for him so thank you for sending in the request, I really hope you enjoy this !!! I’m still kinda new to writing smut so I hope you guys like it <333 )
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“Well that went better than i expected” Lewis mused after he heard the sound of you closing the door behind you. His eyes were immediately drawn to your walls, taking in every detail with a fond smile. He always wondered what your childhood room looked like; he'd seen a few pictures of you in the room, but it was different from actually being there. He didn't get a chance of getting a good look earlier when the two of you had brought your shared luggage up, your youngest brother who was only a few years younger than you, whisking him away before he could really take everything in. 
You could hear the slight of sarcasm in his tone making you feel even worse on how your parents ⸺ no how your father treated him at dinner. The two of you decided to finally come visit your parents now that Lewis is on break. You were a little hesitant on coming, knowing how your father could be, but Lewis was convincing. Your mother was as sweet as always, asking questions about his career and giving his family good wishes, your two brothers were eager to talk about his career as well, your niece was absolutely smitten with him, and your father . . . completely uninterested. You knew he wasn't happy with you and Lewis's age-gap with how much he voiced his opinion about it, but still you thought he'd at least try . . . for you. 
“I’m really sorry lew, we shouldn't have come” you frowned as your eyes followed your boyfriend of a year around your room. He was taking in every detail, everything in your room made sense to him, everything was so you. Lewis looked away from your collection of posters over your desk and moved to sit on the edge of your bed facing you, a smile on his lips. “Don't say that baby, i know you really wanted to see your family, and I've had a great time.” 
“Give me a few more days and I'll get your dad to like me” Lewis promised as he leaned back on his hands, a small giggle leaving his lips as he saw the clearly old stuffed bear perfectly sitting on your bed. You feel your heart warm at his words, he was always so selfless, willing to go through anything just so he could see a smile on your pretty face. You swiftly lock your door and walk over to your boyfriend, the corner of your lips twitching up into a smirk when you watch how his eyes immediately drop to your swaying hips. 
“You are quite charming” You whispered as you placed your hands on your boyfriend's shoulders, feeling the smooth silk of his shirt as you climbed up onto his lap, the two of you keeping eye contact as he looked up at you. Lewis smirked as he heard your coquettish tone that he loved so much. The dress he bought you in Brazil riding up your thighs at the new position and he was eager to move his hands to caress your bare thighs, chills decorating your skin at his touch. 
“Oh, am i?” he teasingly asks you even though he was well aware how charming he is with how much you reminded him, a cocky smile on his lips. Lewis watched as you playfully rolled your eyes as you moved your hands to his nape, your breath hitching when you felt him slide his hands under your dress and up your thighs. You playfully chided him with a click of your tongue and a small shake of your head “Cockiness doesn't look good on you Lewis.” 
That's a lie. It looked really good on him . . . 
“Fuck but you do” lewis quickly breathed out as he looked up at you, swiftly moving one of his hands out from under your dress and tangling it in your hair at your nape and pulling you down into a wet kiss he’s wanted to do all day. A small sound of surprise leaves your lip that he's quick to swallow, his lips eagerly moving against yours. You move one of your hands to cup his cheek, the soft caress of your thumb on his jaw was completely different from the passionate kiss the two you were sharing. 
You absentmindedly grinded against your boyfriend's lap, a mix of a moan and a whine leaving your lips at the feeling of the friction against his bulging length and the feeling of his grip tightening on your hair. The two of you were both so desperate for each other's touch, having to be good and keep your hands to yourself all day in front of your family. God it was torture, especially seeing how good he looked. The lingering touches he left on your waist as he walked past you, or the soft touches on your thighs under the table. He knew what he was doing . . . 
You reluctantly pull away from your boyfriend's addictive lips, panting against his lips as you're slow to open your eyes. You lock eyes with lewis darkened ones, your thighs clenching around him when he untangles his fingers out of your hair and uses his thumb to wipe the spit off your tingling lips. “Please” your tone is desperate and whiny. You didn't have to say anything else; he knew what you wanted, and your eyes were begging him to fuck you.
You knew you were playing with fire, but your room was far enough from your parents, and you were too needy to really care. Lewis groaned as he felt you grind your hips impatiently against him, a smirk forming on his lips. He could feel you throbbing even with three layers of clothing between the two of you. Lewis chuckled and rested his hand on your collarbone, his thumb teasingly tracing the column of your throat, knowing that you were just itching to have him wrap his hand around it. His hand under your dress gripped your thigh “You think you can be quite hmm? Be my good girl?” 
“I promise lewis, i'll be your good girl” you promised as you nodded quickly, starting to get impatient as you felt his hand slowly move up and down your thigh, the cold chill of his rings against your warm skin sending a shiver down your spine. You couldn't wait anymore, and he could see that. The look in your eyes, the impatient rolling of your hips, 
“I know baby, you're always my good girl aren't you” Lewis whispered as slowly trailed his hand up the inside of your thigh. You let out a small huff of frustration, just wanting to feel his fingers calm that ache between your thighs. But you were quick to close your mouth and bite your lip at the stern look lewis gave you, he had no problem with you being needy, but he crossed the line at you being bratty. But he’ll take pity on his pretty girl, he moves his hand right to where you were needing him the most. A gasp leaving your lips at his touch while a small chuckle leaves him at how damp your panties were, his pointer finger teasingly rubbing your clit through your panties. 
“Mhm yes lew” you whimpered and leaned down to lay your head on his shoulder, softly biting his silk shirt to keep your moans at bay as he dips his fingers into your panties, covering his fingers in your slick and smoothly slipping two fingers inside your throbbing hole. You wrap your arms around Lewis muscular shoulders, a whine leaving your lips at the sudden stretch. 
Lewis smiles cheekily and looks down at you, your lips parted as sweet and quiet moans left your lips as he continued his slow movement, massaging your tight walls. Leaning down to whisper in your ear, his beard tickling your face, but you were too lost in pleasure to say anything about it “Awe darling, you're just sucking my fingers up, so tight.” 
“Feels so good” You moaned out, tilting your head to start kissing and sucking your boyfriend's godly neck, desperately needing to occupy your mouth so you wouldn't be moaning out praises and curses at the pleasure your boyfriend was giving you. Lewis let out a quiet grunt at the feeling of your lips on his burning skin, sucking and nibbling. And the way you gently rutted against his fingers and the choked-out moan you let out when he curled his fingers up, made him want to lay you across the bed and fuck you until you couldn't take it anymore. 
“Lew i need more ⸺ please fuckkk i need more” you begged, letting out a sharp gasp when he starts rubbing your clit with his thumb, his hand covered in your slick. Lewis smirks and locks eyes with you, your eyes glazed over. His poor baby was already fucked out and he hasn't even taken his cock out. Lewis kisses your forehead and slowly pulls his fingers out of your sopping hole and softly patting your clit as he whispers.
 “Only because you asked so prettily.” 
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“Fuck darling, you take me so fucking well” Lewis got out between his grunts, his thumbs dipped into the dimples of your back as he holds tightly onto your waist as he thrusts into you from behind. His eyebrows furrowed and his lips parted as his gaze was fixed on where your bodies connected ⸺ loving how good your pussy swallows him in. He slides his hands down to hold your ass, his fingers sinking into your skin and spreading it open slightly to watch as his dick covered in your slick disappears in your needy cunt. 
A soft chuckle leaves his lips when he notices your trembling thighs “Feels good, huh?” 
“Feels so good” you mewled in pleasure, your arms were stretched under the coolness of your pillows, and the soft fabric of your duvet against your cheek and naked body felt so good against your burning skin. Your face was smushed against your soft pillow, hoping that it would help muffle your uncontrollable moans that only got more frequent the harder his thrusts got. 
Lewis pulls up your hips and adjusts the pillow under your hips, the new angle causing him to pound into you deeper. A loud moan leaving your lips at how deep he was stretching you ⸺ you felt so full. The sound of your skin meeting creates a lewd noise that makes you feel like you were in a trance, being lulled by the rhythmic sound. You pull your pillow closer to you, whines and moans leaving your parted lips as your body jerks forward from the hard thrusts “It's too much!” 
Lewis leans down as he continues fucking into your aching cunt, one of his hands softly rubbing up your back before tangling his hands into your hair and making a makeshift ponytail and pulling you up against his chest. Your back arched and one of your trembling hands moved behind you and dug your fingers into the skin of Lewis thigh so you wouldn't fall, a delicious hiss leaving his lips at the sting he welcomed. “You can take it baby ⸺ we both know you can” he whispered huskily in your ear, trailing off into a taunting coo, both of you thinking back on the countless times of you fucking yourself on his cock. 
“You gonna cum for me love?” Lewis moaned, feeling the way you clenched around him, the feeling bringing him closer to his own peak. “Yes lew!” you whined as you tilted your head back against him. Lewis kept his eyes on you taking in the beauty of your side profile as he continued to fuck you. Your eyebrows were furrowed, and your eyes were glazed over with pleasure, your mouth parted as quiet moans slipped past your lips. 
“I’m gonna cum  ⸺ fuckk” you cried out, but it came out muffled from lewis hand quickly covering your mouth, your head tipping forward as you felt that rope inside you snap, letting you fall into your own desire. Everything went silent for a second and you swore you lost vision as you came undone. And like a chain reaction, Lewis spilled himself deep inside of you, not being able to hold back once he felt you cum around him. Quiet grunts leaving his lips as he tilted his head back in pleasure. 
Your trembling body fell forward on your bed, a whimper leaving your lips at the feeling of him slipping out of you while a hiss left his. You snuggled your face into your unruly sheets as you tried to catch your breath and calm down from the intense orgasm your boyfriend led you to. Lewis’s sweaty chest heaved as he panted and also tried to catch his breath, his eyes closing for a few seconds. 
He looks down at your tired body and places his hands on the bed at the sides of your body, softly kissing your back a few times a smile on his lips at the sight of your sweaty body. You let out a quiet groan as you rolled over in bed, your glazed over eyes looking up at your smiling boyfriend. Lewis leaned down, placing his hands by your head so he wouldn't crush you with his body weight. 
“You did so good f’me” lewis praised you as he placed gentle and soft kisses all over your face. You smiled and shut your eyes at the soft feeling of his lips, one of his hands moving to gently caress your side. His head falling into the crook of your neck to softly kiss. You hum in satisfaction at his soft and sweet touches and whisper “up for a bath?” 
Lewis placed a few more kisses on your shoulder and collarbone before sitting up on his knees between your spread legs. You smile and sit up as well, placing your hand on his abdomen before placing a soft and meaningful kiss over his heart. Lewis looked down at you with such love, taking your hand on his chest into his and placing a kiss on it before whispering “Always with you darling.”
Lewis helps you out of your bed and into your bathroom that was connected to your room, his hands flipping the switch while you were already moving to the shelf in your bathroom, grabbing a few candles and setting them on the edge around your big white bathtub. You would be lying if you said you didn't miss your bathtub the most about your childhood room. 
Lewis rests his hands on your waist as you lean down to turn on the water, hot water soon pouring out and filling the bath. You giggle when you come up, your back coming flush against his chest. Lewis was quick to place a few kisses on your shoulder and whisper in your ear how beautiful you looked. You turn around and playfully scold him with a grin on your face “You're such a flirt.” 
“I prefer to say I'm just charming” Lewis smirked, using your words against you. You bit your lip and nod your head, touché. You let Lewis get into the bath first, and then you. Your body nestling between his legs and his arms wrapped around your waist as you leaned back against his chest. The two of you enjoyed a few minutes of peaceful silence as you relaxed in the warm bath, your muscles relaxing from the cardio. 
“I love you” you broke the silence as you tilted your head to look back at him. He could see the reflection of the candle burning in your eyes, and your lips were so red from all the bruising kisses the two of you shared. He brought his water-soaked hand and cups your cheek, bringing you closer and resting his forehead on the side of your head. Yes, the dinner didn't go the way the both of you wanted, but he wouldn't have changed anything because it brought the two of you here . . . in that soft moment filled with nothing but love and vanilla candles. 
“And i love you “
˖ ་ 💭 roro’s notes ( ahhh im nervous about this 🤭 please tell me what you guys think 💋 )
°. — taglist ( @iloveyou3000morgan @copper-boom @cixrosie @partyinpitlane @toasttt11 )
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supernovafics · 3 months
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With your I’ll be there for you series would you be interested in writing about Steve discovering that he has feelings for reader? I think it would be sweet for him to just find even the silliest things she does cute and then him having a little melt down because he realised he’s liked her along. The series is such a great idea! 💭
𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐄𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐆
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"i'll be there for you" universe masterlist
pairing: bestfriend!roommate!steve harrington x fem!reader
word count: 4.4k words
warnings: explicit language, alcohol consumption, drunk!steve, mentions of steve's dad being shitty, angst
summary: in which steve’s drunk and you don’t hesitate to cancel a date to take care of him
author's note: thanks for the request! probably from the moment i started this series/universe i knew that i wanted to have steve realize his feelings first so this request was quite literally perfect for that lol. this is slightly “while you were sleeping” by laufey inspired hence the title. the slow burn is finally starting to come to an end !! (i’m both happy and sad about that lmao) anyways enjoy<3333
general note: everything in this universe/series can be read as standalone oneshots but to understand the full “lore” it would prob be best to read the other stuff too<333
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
Winter 1986
You were in the middle of debating between a black skirt and a brown plaid one that Robin convinced you to buy when you two went thrifting just a few days ago when the phone rang.
Leaving both options on your bed, you went to the kitchen to answer it, bottomless aside from the stockings you had already put on because of the cold late February weather. 
“Hello?” 
“Hello?”
“Steve?” You recognized his voice for the most part, but he sounded a little different. A little far away, like he was calling from the oldest phone in the universe.
“Oh, hey.” The way he said the simple two words both confused and amused you because it sounded as if he didn’t expect you to be the person on the other end of the line. 
You laughed a bit. “‘Oh, hey’? Don’t sound so disappointed. You called me.”
“I know. Sorry. I meant to call Eddie,” He said, and it was then that you heard what should’ve been obvious from the moment he said “Hello” to you— the way his words weren’t necessarily slurry, just slower than usual. 
He was drunk, and you now recognized the voice that you had become so used to hearing since Steve’s sixteenth birthday when he snuck his dad’s whiskey and you both only had two shots of it before feeling it fully. 
“Why would you call him? Aren’t you two together right now?” You asked, your confusion taking precedence over the amusement you felt in this moment. 
Earlier that day, before you left the apartment to head to your twelve o’clock class, he told you that he was going to tag along with Robin, Vickie, and Eddie to some art show thing after his shift that night at Family Video; you would’ve gone too if you didn’t already have plans for the night. 
“Also, I didn’t know that you could get drunk at an art show,” You added. “I’ll definitely make sure to go next time.” 
“I didn’t go with them,” He told you, and before you could ask where he was, he answered the unspoken question. “I’m actually at a bar right now.” 
Your eyebrows furrowed. “What? Why?” 
“Very long story. Dad shit. What else is new, right?” Steve answered with a breath of a laugh.��
He made his words sound lighthearted and as if whatever happened didn’t really affect him, but you, of course, didn’t see it that way. Without even being with Steve right then, standing in front of him and reading his facial expressions, you still saw through what he was trying to play off as “no big deal.” You’d known him more than long enough to know that anything involving his dad was usually always serious. And whatever shitty things his dad said to him this time around drove Steve to a bar rather than back here to the apartment to frustratingly rant to you, and that only worried you. 
“Which bar are you at?” You asked softly. 
“The only place in town, other than The Hideout, that doesn’t card,” He said and then immediately continued. “But, wait, don’t come here, though. I don’t want you to come get me. That’s why I was trying to call Eddie. I know you have your date tonight.”
Just for a second— actually, probably the entire time you’d been talking to Steve— you’d forgotten about the date, forgotten about the reason why you’d just been debating which skirt to wear, forgotten about what you were supposed to leave for in twenty minutes. And that slightly surprised you because, for the last couple of days, you’d been really excited about it. 
Meeting Jamie felt like a sort of “meet cute” moment that was straight out of a romcom, one that you probably would’ve laughed at because of how cheesy it was. You bumped into him in the hallway on the floor of your apartment. He was your neighbor’s, Miss Johnson’s, nephew, and you learned that even though he went to a college about an hour away, he was trying to visit her more often. He had been in the middle of leaving when you saw him, and you gave a friendly wave and smile at first and he started a conversation with you. You two then spent an hour talking in the hallway before you headed inside your apartment to start studying for a test and he asked for your number, which led to more long conversations over the next few days until he asked you on a date. 
In a way, it startled you how giddy you found yourself feeling about him after only those few days, how easily and quickly you liked him. It was the first crush that you had in a while that didn’t feel completely hopeless. 
But now all of that was the last thing on your mind. It quickly became pushed to the side because you knew that your best friend needed you.
You shook your head in this moment even though Steve couldn’t see you. “No, it’s okay, I’ll come.” 
“No, don’t, don’t. I’ll just call Eddie.”
He’s probably not home right now, was what you wanted to tell Steve, but you refrained from doing so at that moment. Instead, you said, “I’ll call him for you.”
The drunken sigh in relief Steve let out was immediate. “Okay, thanks, I don’t think I have any more change for this payphone, anyway.”
“Okay, just stay put and stop drinking.”
“The bartender already cut me off.”
“Good,” You said before saying a final goodbye to him and hanging up. 
You then picked the phone up again to dial a different number. You, of course, didn’t attempt to call Eddie and you instead called Jamie. He was completely understanding when you told him that you had to cancel the date because of an emergency, and he said that you two could do the dinner and movie on a different night, which you quickly agreed on. 
You put on the brown plaid skirt— quickly deciding that it looked better with the white top you were wearing, anyway— before slipping on a pair of shoes and grabbing your coat, shoving your car keys and wallet into the pockets, and then leaving the apartment. 
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
The drive to Webster’s took less than fifteen minutes and the current emptiness of it didn’t surprise you that much. From the handful of times that you’d gone to the place with Steve, Eddie, and Robin, it became a known fact that things didn’t become “lively” until after ten, and it was currently only a little after nine. 
You spotted Steve sitting on a stool at the counter, head down in his folded arms. You sat in the empty seat next to him and tapped the side of his shoulder until he sat up and looked at you. 
“Glad to know you’re alive, Harrington.” 
He smiled at you and you gave him a small smile back, he must have forgotten that he’d told you not to come to the bar. 
“I feel barely alive, actually.”
“Still counts.” 
Steve only looked at you for a moment, taking notice of what you were wearing beneath your unzipped coat. 
“You look nice,” He said and then seemed to realize something and his smile dropped. “Wait, shit, your date. You shouldn’t be here right now.”
“It’s fine. We’re just gonna reschedule it.” 
“I’m sorry.”
You shook your head at him. “No, don’t be. It’s just a first date, anyway. Your drunk ass needing a ride home is obviously more important than that.” 
Steve laughed a bit. “I guess I’ll take that as a compliment?” 
“Yes, you should,” You told him and then watched with furrowed brows as he went to grab the short glass that was in front of him, half full of some dark liquor. He was about to finish what was left in the glass, but you grabbed it from him before he could. “Steve.”
“I still had this from before I called you. I can’t finish it?”
“No, because if you end up throwing up in my car on the drive home, I will have to murder you.”
You looked away from him before he could say anything in response to that and waved at Barry, the usual bartender that you became on a first name basis with after your third time going to Webster’s. Since it was the farthest thing from busy right then, he immediately walked over to you two. 
“Hey, Barry, can he have some water?”
He nodded and filled up a glass, sliding it over to Steve and then looking at you. “Glad to see you here. He’s looked like a sad little lost puppy for the past hour.”
Steve stopped mid-sip to scoff. “That’s very not true.”
“Sorry, but I think I have to believe the only other sober person here,” You said and only smiled at the second annoyed scoff he let out, which was hard to take seriously because of his current drunkenness. 
Barry got called over by a group of people that just walked in and you silently watched Steve take a few sips from his glass. When he set it down, you lightly nudged his knee with yours. “Do you wanna talk about what happened with your dad?” 
Steve simply sighed at first. “He came to Family Video today and went on this huge rant about me and what I’m doing with my life. He thinks my job is shit, and even me going to school part-time isn’t enough. He thinks I’m such a loser in comparison to his friend’s kids who are actually “doing things with their lives.””
You frowned and shook your head. “Fuck him.”   
“Cheers to that,” Steve said with a small laugh and held up his glass of water for a second. “He also said that he wants to set me up with this job at his friend’s insurance company, and I immediately said no to that. I’m still not entirely sure what I wanna do yet, but I know it’s not that— some stupid fucking desk job. Especially not one that’s just given to me by my dad.” 
“He’s an idiot,” You told Steve. “And also his bullshit is not at all worth the hangover you’ll have in the morning.” 
“You might be right about that,” He responded, eyes fixed on his now half-empty glass of water and a small amused smile on his face. “But, it felt good for a second.” 
You poked his arm so that he would look at you. “You could’ve talked to me about all of that instead of coming here.” 
“I didn’t wanna mess up your date by coming home and talking to you about all of this sad shit. I knew that you’d just worry about me and probably not go,” He mumbled. “And I feel like a dumbass for still messing it up.”
“It’s okay. Seriously. Honestly,” You told him and then playfully smiled as you said your next words. “And you know that I would tell you if it wasn’t okay. I’d definitely hold this over you for at least a week, and force you to clean out Harold’s cage and do my laundry that’s been building up for the past week and a half. But you’re drunk and sad, and I’m way too nice to make you do any of those things.” 
He laughed at that, which made you smile wider. “Thank you.” 
“You’re welcome,” You said before you stood up from the stool you’d been sitting in. “Now, come on, let’s get out of here before it starts getting crowded. Can you walk okay?” 
Steve only nodded in response, which was a nonverbal answer that you weren’t sure if you completely trusted, so you stood close to him as he also got up and pulled some cash out of his back pocket and placed it on the counter. 
He then waved at Barry, and you were certain that he probably didn’t mean for it to be so animated and comical, but it very much looked that way. “Goodnight, Barry.”
The bartender laughed a bit when he looked over at you and Steve. “‘Night, guys.” 
Steve started heading toward the door first and you followed just a few steps behind him. When he stumbled a bit before even making it out of the door, you grabbed his hand and moved closer to him so that he could drape his arm around your shoulders, and then one of yours circled around his waist. 
Leading him to your car was a feat in itself, but once he was settled in the passenger seat and you started driving, he rolled his window down completely and had it like that during the entire ride even though it was freezing cold outside, and that was worse than dealing with his stumbling.
When you made it to the apartment building, his balance was actually a bit more coherent so you didn’t need to do more than just hold his hand during the entire walk to the elevators and then down the hallway to the apartment.
You dragged him to your room and he sighed in contentment when he sat down on the side of your bed; he always liked your mattress better than his own for some reason. 
“Wait, don’t fall asleep yet,” You told him before heading over to his room and grabbing a random t-shirt and basketball shorts from one of his drawers. “Here, put this on. I know you’d be mad at me if I let you fall asleep in those jeans.” 
“Thanks,” He mumbled with a yawn as you handed the clothes over to him, and then you went to the kitchen as he started changing. 
You filled a mug with water and then pulled open the drawer that had the bottle of aspirin in it. Neither you nor Steve were really sure why it lived there instead of in one of your bathrooms, where it probably should’ve been, but you two also didn’t make any effort to move it.  
Steve was already asleep and under the covers when you walked back into your room, and you placed the mug and aspirin on the nightstand on his side. You changed into your own pajamas for the night, which simply consisted of an old baggy t-shirt and shorts, before settling in on your side of the bed. 
It was still pretty early for a Friday night, barely even ten o’clock, but you didn’t mind going to bed because you were actually a little tired. Steve was turned and facing away from you, but you still watched him and his even breathing for a bit, making sure he was okay before you quickly drifted off to sleep yourself. 
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
Steve didn’t know what time it was when he woke up, but he could tell that it was pretty early because he could see the just sun starting to rise. 
The other things he quickly noticed were that he was in your bed and he had a pounding headache, which was a little confusing at first, but then all of what happened last night started coming back to him. 
The shit with his dad, the bar, the accidental phone call to you, and then you coming to the bar and bringing him home— he remembered it all. 
With a soft groan, Steve slowly sat up in bed, doing his best not to wake you, and then reached over to grab the water and aspirin you left out for him. 
He took the medicine and drank most of the water and then laid back down, turning on his side to face you. Your head was against the pillow and even breaths fell from your slightly parted lips. You looked so peaceful like this, he decided, so pretty.  
Steve thought about you and Jamie, and how happy you had been when you talked about him. Steve also knew how excited you’d been about the date, and even though you had told him that it was okay that you had to cancel it last night, he still felt a little bad about it all. 
He knew that you would probably do anything for him, and that was completely mutual. If the roles had been reversed last night, Steve wouldn’t have thought twice about canceling a date to go pick you up from some dumb bar. And making those sorts of sacrifices for one another never felt like a question, it just always felt like the obvious thing to do. 
It didn’t completely make sense at first, but somehow it was that simple and crystal clear thought that managed to shift something deep down inside of him— it harshly drew the line between best friends and something more. And Steve quickly realized exactly which side he lay on.
Which was confusing because the lines of where your friendship began and ended had always felt so unquestionable— you and him were best friends; nothing more, nothing less. 
But it was different now, it changed, and it was this moment that told him that it actually had been that way for a while; probably since you two moved into the apartment. 
Starting from that day in August your lives became even more intertwined with one another— which didn’t feel entirely possible because of how close you’d been for so long— but it was true. He hadn’t realized how blurry the lines had been getting since then. 
Since you two started beginning your days and ending them in the same home. Since so many nights became spent in each other’s beds; nothing more happening than sleeping and late night talking, but still. Since you two got Harold only a few weeks into living in the apartment, and you both immediately fell into your unserious parental roles in the hamster’s life. Since an unspoken early morning weekend routine fell into place where Steve would make coffee and toast and you’d do the eggs and bacon. Since you two became something equivalent to a married couple that had been together for at least twenty years. 
And then Steve realized that actually maybe this something more had always been there— maybe it had always been so fucking obvious. 
He thought back to the end of Senior year when you two went to each other’s proms and slow danced at the end of the night because you both thought it would be funny, but those moments actually turned into something really sweet and wholesome; and you’d both think back on it during the most randomest of times. 
And then he also thought about smaller things, the parts of your personality that made him feel so goddamn lucky to know you. How you always fiddled with the radio and never settled on a station for longer than a few minutes during perhaps any car ride where Steve was the one driving; something that you’d been doing since the day he got his driver's license and you two went on your first solo car ride together. How pretty much anything you did would only make him smile and playfully roll his eyes or make fun of you. 
Steve wasn’t entirely sure why he was having this sort of “epiphany moment” right here, right now, in your bed as he looked at you peacefully sleeping next to him. 
It, of course, stemmed from you canceling something that he had known you’d been looking forward to for the last couple of days to instead take care of him, he could recognize that. But, what made that so different from everything else you’d done for each other over the years? 
He immediately thought that maybe there was no one straight answer to that question because it wasn’t about what was different. Instead, it was about all of those other moments too. They had slowly built upon each other until it came to this one on this February morning— nine years into your friendship and six and a half months into you two living together— and Steve could finally recognize what it all had meant, and he was ready to accept the truth for what it was too. 
He liked you. More than liked, actually. He loved you, he was in love with you. 
But, you were also his best friend, the most important person in his life, and he didn’t want to be the reason that that ever got messed up. And that thought was what made him finally look away from you and mutter out a soft, “Fuck.”
Steve quickly got out of the bed, and he was surprised, but also completely grateful, that his quick and hasty movements didn’t manage to stir you awake. 
He left your room and went to the kitchen. It was early and he probably should’ve been trying to get a few more hours of sleep, but he wasn’t tired anymore. 
The realization was the only thing on his mind— in a matter of seconds, it managed to completely consume it. 
Everything else that had been happening the past few months finally made complete sense; Steve saw it all in a different way. He now understood why he couldn’t picture any sort of future with Vanessa when he went out with her a few times back in December even though he really did like her, and why he couldn’t see anything with anyone he went out with. Because deep down, he knew that he could only see that with you. It made sense why his dating life had been in such a rut lately and why he didn’t particularly mind it all that much.
When you two would jokingly say that you both were completely okay with ending up “alone together forever,” he realized now that from his side of things, deep down, it had never been a joke. And he wondered if it was the same way for you. 
In an ideal world, the answer would be yes. But, things only felt confusing, and if he was being a thousand percent honest with himself, he didn’t know if that answer was yes in this world.
Steve knew that you really liked Jamie, even in such a short amount of time, so that couldn’t mean that you had any sort of feelings for him. Right? Or maybe you just hadn’t had your own “epiphany moment” yet? Should he tell you about his? Should he tell you about any of what just hit him in the past ten minutes? 
His brain felt as if it was going to fucking explode with all of the questions circling his mind right then, and the coffee he was making failed to distract his thoughts from everything. 
He came to the quick decision that he wouldn’t tell you what he was feeling; it would just be easier that way. There wouldn’t be any way for him to potentially fuck things up between you two if he simply ignored what he was feeling. It was easy to imagine how drastically your friendship would change if he told you everything and you didn’t feel the same. Therefore, he could push it all away to make sure that nothing changed for the worse.
When the coffee was done, he poured some into a fresh mug and took a long sip. Any other time, he couldn’t really stand straight black coffee, but the bitterness tasted good for once; he decided to focus on that instead of anything else. 
Steve wasn’t sure how long he had been leaning back against the counter and sipping from his mug before you came out of your room. It could’ve been one minute or ten; right then, time felt as if it was moving both slow and fast. 
“Hey,” You said, giving him a small smile and rubbing the tiredness out of your eyes. “I’m surprised you’re up already. I definitely expected you to be passed out until at least ten.” 
It felt equivalent to a light switch flipping how quickly Steve felt affected by your smile and simply you in that moment. He’d probably seen you like this a million times before— just waking up and still in your now wrinkled pajamas from the night— but it felt entirely different now. And that was when he knew how fucked he was. 
“Yeah, I, uh, I woke up and couldn’t, um, go back to sleep… So, yeah, just came out here. Made some, um, coffee,” He ultimately responded and then inwardly sighed at how flustered he was right then. He let out a quick laugh. “Sorry, blame the hangover for my inability to say sentences right now.” 
If that was how he was going to act around you from now on, he knew that trying to keep this a secret was probably the most unrealistic idea ever. 
You laughed a bit and nodded, seemingly unfazed by his awkwardness right then, and opened up the fridge. “You think you can stomach eggs and bacon?” 
“Yes to the bacon, but I think I should play it safe and say no to the eggs.” 
“Makes sense,” You said, closing the fridge after grabbing the bacon. You placed the pack on the counter near the stove and then looked at Steve. “You feeling better about all of that dad shit?”
It was almost comical how even though it had been the reason for everything that happened last night, the conversation he had with his dad was the farthest thing from his mind now. 
“I’m good, actually.” 
“Good,” You said, smiling at him and then reaching out to grab his hand and give it a light reassuring squeeze; which, unknown to you, made his heart feel as if it was going to somersault out of his chest. “Remember, the next time this happens, come to me and we both can get drunk here for free. Or we can just run away and join the circus, or whatever it was we agreed on when we were twelve.” 
Steve only nodded and gave you a small smile in response because it felt as if that was all he could do at that moment. If he attempted to say anything, he felt like his words would’ve started or ended with, “I’m in love with you.” 
He changed his decision then. He knew that he had to tell you everything because it wouldn’t be easy to simply bury it down and ignore it. There was no way that he’d be able to keep this from you, at least not for a long time, it was already swallowing him whole. And although he had no idea when or how he would tell you the truth, he made a quick promise to himself that he would do it. 
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
let me know ur thoughts<333
(requests are open for stuff you wanna see in the universe/series!🫶🏾)
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gottaluvharry · 8 months
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family
carlos sainz jr x pregnant!reader
summary: your son has a few questions about why his little sister is in your belly, and carlos is happy to explain
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Lazy mornings with your little family were your favorite. You smiled to yourself as you woke to the hushed whispers of your husband and your son. As you turn to face the other side of the bed, you’re met with 2 pairs of brown puppy dog eyes and 2 identical smiles.
“Buenos dias, mama!” good morning mom your son screeched, proud of himself for using Spanish. “Buenos dias baby” you say through a smile. He latches on to your neck and you feel Carlos’ hand rubbing patterns on your stomach. “Morning hermosa” beautiful he says going in for a kiss. “How is little girl?” he asks. “Sleeping I think. She must be tired after all the kicking she did last night” you groan, recalling the many hours you were woken due to the relentless kicking in your stomach. “lo lamento, se amable con mami” i’m sorry, be nice to mommy he says leaning to talk to his unborn daughter. You just laugh and shake your head at the pout he has on his face, guiding him up by his chin to give him another kiss.
“Papa,” your little boy starts, breaking you and Carlos apart. “How did baby get in mommy’s belly?” he asks as he puts his hand over Carlos’ on your stomach. “Well hijo” son Carlos starts. “Me and mommy love each other, and we made your sister together because we love each other” he says, hoping it’s enough to settle your sons curiosity. “Like when you and mommy make pancakes together?” he asks, now moving to sit in his fathers lap. “No, not like when we make pancakes” he laughs. “He is just made out of love, baby. When 2 people love each other so much and want a little baby like you, they will make one. That’s all I can tell you” he says, avoiding a heavier subject. “But mommy, did it hurt when baby went in your tummy?” he now turns to you with fear in his eyes over the thought of you hurting. “No buddy it didn’t hurt” you assure him, ruffling his hair; but you don’t miss the smirk Carlos sends your way remembering the night in question. “So why does baby stay in mommy’s belly for so long?” he asks, now turning to look at Carlos for the answer. “That’s just where they grow buddy. Babies need lots of space to grow and the only place there is enough room is in a mommy’s tummy” he responds. “Oh” he hums, taking in all the information he’s learning. “But how does baby come out?” he goes on, his eyes lighting up when he gets another question. “When he is ready to come out me and Mommy will go to the hospital and the doctors will help her come out” Carlos answers. “But does it hurt?” your son asks, once again scared of you being hurt. “Only a little bit” you say, “but it is worth it because then we get to hold your little sister”.
As your son continues asking questions and Carlos continues tracing patterns across your stomach, you can’t help but smile at the little life you’ve created. Who knew one bed could hold so much love on a random morning.
—————————————
hope you guys enjoyed this short little blurb:) sorry it’s been so long since i’ve posted, there was a lot going on and then i started school but in honor of Carlos’ birthday AND pole today i figured i’d post something!! might clear my drafts out and post some more in the next week or so<3
also my inbox is open, so request anything if you have any ideas! or if you just want to talk to someone, feel free!
okay last thing, thank you all for the support, it’s so special to me to have people with the same interests reading and liking my work, i want to give you all hugs<333
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chrollohearttags · 28 days
Text
sweet like frosting • e. jaeger
y’all are still getting the full fic bc I’m in too deep now and I rather take my time on it but I had to give a lil something before the day is completely gone 😭 let’s call this an excerpt. happy birthday daddy <333
── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚.─── ── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* ── ・ 。゚☆: *
burgundy lights scattered across the room, soft echoes of thumping R&B music played from the surround sound of the television set…the lewd acts depicted in the song being acted out right there in that bedroom. Satin ropes stretched from the side of the headboard and binding to each of the pale flushed wrists coiling around them. At the moment, it was all that could be seen of the man they were attached to..
“Mmmm…there you go. Use your tongue, baby..and slow down. Take your time, we’ve got all night…”
your words drowned out in a soft, illustrious moan. His own muffled by the cushion of your plump ass seated on his face. That silky, slick ridden mound dredging across his lips and grinding on his mouth…honestly, he couldn’t have asked for a more ideal view. Or a gift for that matter. After all, it was his special day. His to celebrate and spend exactly as he pleases. And what better way to do so than devouring the sweet cunt of his beloved? Letting those divine juices trickle all down his face, chin and even to his throat. “Ah—haaa..fuck..yes.” (Y/N) cried out, tossing your head to the ceiling with a loud cry releasing from your throat. It was hard to tell who’s birthday was which because both of you were equally doused in ecstasy at the moment. But truth be told, he’d never been so spoiled before. It wasn’t enough that you had paid for this elaborate trip to commemorate him turning twenty six. But the fact that he had been pampered with expensive gifts and now, you were fucking him senseless. Slathering his twitching cock with strings of sloppy spit earlier from allowing him to fuck your throat and now using them to stroke his shaft with those long acrylics curled around it. There wasn’t a better way to spend his birthday and he wouldn’t trade it for the world. Especially when all he had to do was lie here and let you give his body the ultimate amount of pleasure. Even more so than his body could withstand..trembling and whimpering, Eren let out more muffled cries and clawed into the flesh of his own palms. His legs shook violently as pools of precum leaked from his aching head. It wasn’t hard to deduce what he wanted. You could all but sense the desperation in the way he scraped his tongue around your folds and even flicked it around that puckering asshole. If he begged hard enough..maybe you’d feel inclined to give it to him.
“Oooh..you wanna come, don’t you, babyboy? You’re trembling..poor thing. Maybe I should ride this dick..let me nut all over it…suck that shit off when I’m done. I know you’d love that.”
but for now…you were enjoying this far more than you should have. And maybe it was a bit self motivated. But something told you that he didn’t mind too much. So as long as you were satisfied..after all, the best part about this cake was the sweet, delicious frosting that filled his mouth at the moment and he’d greedily feast, licking the plate clean so long as you allowed him.
“Eat all you want..this is all for you, daddy. You’re the only one who can get me like this..keep making me come. It’s all yours..”
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dumbseee · 9 months
Text
stalker. pt.2.
masterlist.
charles leclerc x reader. / ? x reader.
fc: lalisa manoban.
note: thanks you guys for 1k!!! i love seeing everyone’s reactions to my aus it really warms my heart <3 i love youuuuuuu <333
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liked by landonorris, yourbestie, francisca.cgomes and 1 007 819 others.
y/n: thanks again @.apmmonaco for inviting me again! raising money for charity is something really important for me, and i’ll continue to do it till the end. you can donate too right here: www.donateforcharity.com
_
fan1: a fucking goddess
fan2: charles fumbled HARD
fan3: men really can’t handle bad bitches
isahernaez: stunning!
fan4: the fact that they were ALL there lmao
fan5: apparently they were sitting near each other…
fan6: where is deuxmoi when you need them.
fan7: how to be a fly in that room tbh
fan8: can we STOP talking about musty charles and appreciate y/n’s beauty and work for charity??
fan9: y/n can do better than him anyway, her family literally owns half of monaco
view all 30 738 comments.
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liked by francisca.cgomes, yourbestie, maxfewtrell and 886 628 others.
y/n: enjoying some sun with friends :)
_
fan1: "friends" hm? then why is your fucking bestie still in monaco, y/n???
fan2: and who tf is that?
fan3: GUYS CHILL let the girl catch some dicks omg
fan4: i hope charles is crying rn
fan5: nah but charles must be regretting all his life choices
fan6: i wonder who that friend is
fan7: she looks so good tho
fan8: let’s stop talking about HER love life she’s a grown ass adult
fan9: my girl is thriving we love to see it <3
view all 12 792 comments.
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you did your best to ignore the look in people’s eyes when they saw you in the paddock. after all, what was a driver’s ex girlfriend doing here? to be fair, you didn’t even know yourself, but he asked you to come and for a reason that is still foreign to you, you said yes. because who could say no to him?
it felt weird tho, coming here alone and supporting someone else, it was weird to you. especially because your ex boyfriend was here with the girl he cheated on you with. no wonder everyone was looking at you. but you didn’t care, you knew why you were here, and charles wasn’t going to ruin this moment.
"y/n!" a familiar voice made you sigh in relief, it was your friend, lily. she greeted you with her signature smile and hugged you tightly. "i haven’t seen you in such a long time." she took a step back and you smiled at her. you loved this tiny woman so much, she was a huge support for you during the breakup and even now. "i missed you too! where is alex?" you asked, your friend’s boyfriend not in sight which was weird because these two were tied at the hip. "doing interviews with logan. but let’s not talk about boys, how are you?" you two linked arms and walked through the paddock. "i’m fine actually, it’s weird but i think i’m moving on." you smiled and looked at the sky, knowing exactly why you were moving on so quickly. "i’m happy then." she smiled back but it dropped away from her face quickly, when she saw something in your way. when you followed her gaze you chest tightened when you saw charles and his girlfriend. when she saw you she immediately jumped in charles’s arms to kiss him, which caught him off guard and annoyed him.
an arm on your shoulder finally snapped you out of it, when you looked on your right to see who suddenly appeared next to you, you saw him. and all your sorrow immediately disappeared like rain when the sun is shining.
"hi, beautiful." he said, and you couldn’t help but smile.
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liked by y/n, landonorris, danielricciardo and 2 729 099 others.
carlossainz55: red is still your color by the way.
_
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taglist: @sassyheroneckgiant @ssararuffoni @myescapefromthislife @idkiwantchocolatee @motorsp0rt @leclercdream @janeholt3 @ivegotparticulartaste @shessthunderstoms @doromoni @judespoision @ariagonzalezsstuff @angelayse @notleclerc @sm3156 @rainerax @shinrjj @ferrariloverr
(i couldn’t tag everyone :( so i just wrote the @)
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inkykeiji · 2 years
Note
my bday is on the 28th and one of the things i’m most excited for this week is tag you’re it! i think that’s my favorite dabi of yours so far so it feels like a special present💗💗💗
oh anon!!! how sweet!!! <33 i’m working as hard and as fast as i can to finish editing it!! i’ve only edited about 9000 words of it thus far, just under half or so, so the chances of it being posted tomorrow are very slim despite the fact that i have plans to work on it all day today, but it’ll be posted at some point next week for sure! happy early birthday sweetpea, i hope you enjoy part two <3
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stevie-petey · 2 months
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oh, you didn't know?
“I was told there’d be cookies.” Dustin interrupted, flashing Steve another smug grin that made the teen want to shove him into a snowbank.  “Yeah, for her.” Steve pointed at you. “Not for you.”
Summary: steve is pathetically in love with you and for some reason the universe hates him and continues to pray on his downfall. typical.
Rating: general, some swearing
Warnings: swearing, fem!reader, use of y/n
Words: 1.6k
Before you swing in: happy valentines day my loves <333 youre all my valentines, i didnt make the rules. anyways, pls enjoy this cute cheesy fic. dont ask how i thought of this: i simply do not know. however, its pathetic!loverboy!steve and i think we ALL deserve that today smh.
-
Steve has never had the best timing. 
When he first manned up to ask you out, it had coincidentally been the same day your childhood dog died. 
There he had been, flowers in hand and a proud smile on his face when he knocked on your front door, completely taken aback when you answered with tears streaming down your face. 
Immediately, Steve’s smile had dropped and he quickly pulled you close to inspect for any injuries or pain. “Y/N? What happened, is everything okay?”
“My dog died.” You wailed, even more tears spilling over. 
“Oh my god–”
“He… He didn’t suffer. He was old and–” You had sniffed, looking so small and frail in your heartbreak, before spotting the flowers in Steve’s hand. You gasped. “H–How did you know?”
Steve had been confused for a moment, but when he followed your gaze to the flowers that were originally meant to be “please be my girlfriend” flowers, his heart dropped. 
Well fuck. 
“Yes…” He cleared his throat. “I, uh. Had a hunch?”
You threw your arms around Steve, the flowers then crushed between you two, but he hadn't paid any attention to them as he wrapped his arms tightly around you. After a few seconds, you placed your lips by his ear and whispered, “You’re the sweetest.”
The sincerity in your voice had made Steve want to vomit. 
He hadn’t had a hunch that your childhood dog would die that day, but what else was he supposed to say? Hey, sorry your dog died, do you want to kiss now? Absolutely not. 
Steve is many things, and oftentimes he is an idiot, but he isn’t that much of an idiot.
So, instead of asking you to be his girlfriend, Steve had instead spent the next three hours at your house as he consoled you and watched your favorite movie to cheer you up. While it hadn’t been his ideal outcome, Steve had still been happy to simply spend time with you. Besides, you had needed him at that moment, so of course Steve was right there by your side. 
Life moved on, a few weeks passed, and eventually Steve decided to try again. 
You had no more animals to possibly lose, Christmas was approaching, and Steve was determined that this time he’d be able to ask you out. 
After buying you some chocolate and planning a fort building night on Christmas Eve, Steve had been sure that the night would go perfectly. There was a beautiful rose pendant bracelet sitting atop of his dresser in his room, wrapped and ready for you to open. 
Steve’s plan was foolproof. 
Build a fort, watch a cheesy Christmas movie, bake some cookies and drink hot chocolate, and then boom: Steve would ask you to be his girlfriend. 
However, Steve really should’ve known better. 
His parents had left that day and he had spent the entire time cleaning the house and preparing all the snacks before your arrival. At six on the dot, his doorbell rang and Steve eagerly ran over to answer the door. 
There, standing on his front doorstep, had been you with a smug looking Dustin Henderson.
“What’s the kid doing here?” Steve had asked, all his hope now coming crashing down upon him. 
You winced. “I know we made plans, I’m so sorry, but his mom asked me to babysit him and she offered me the rest of the money I need for your Christmas gift and–”
“I was told there’d be cookies.” Dustin interrupted, flashing Steve another smug grin that made the teen want to shove him into a snowbank. 
“Yeah, for her.” Steve pointed at you. “Not for you.”
“Stevie, I promise I’ll make it up to you later.” You groaned at him, and Steve knew you hated disappointing him. “Can we please just come inside? It’s cold and I was really excited for the fort.”
There are many times when Steve wonders just how he manages to get himself into obscure situations. That night, when he had Dustin Henderson wedged between you and him underneath a super romantic and cute fort that he had spent hours building, had been one of those times where Steve questioned his entire life. 
At that point, Steve was starting to wonder if he’d ever manage to ask you out in the first place. 
A few more weeks passed after that and you were still his best friend and nothing had changed between you two, but now Steve found himself constantly biting his tongue around you. He was so fucking in love with you, he had been for years, but after two failed attempts of confessing his feelings: it was becoming impossible to hold them in. 
Then, late January, your birthday came along. 
This time, Steve was sure that he had it all figured out.
You had wanted to grab some dinner at the local diner you loved, and Steve thought that a small, toned down proposal to date would be perfect. He’d give you your birthday gift (a matching set of earrings for the rose bracelet you now wore every day), he’d order you the strawberry shortcake you adored, and when you weren’t looking, Steve would ask the waitress to write “happy birthday, my love” on the cake. 
Steve was a goddamn romantic genius, honestly. 
Except that isn’t what happened. 
What actually ended up happening was the waitress somehow hearing “my love” as “Milo” and Steve had wanted to bash his fucking skull in. 
“Who’s ‘Milo’?” You had asked once the cake came out, confusion evident on your face. 
Steve, now used to nothing ever working out in his favor, had simply sighed and said, “Who knows, man. Just eat your cake.”
You had giggled, and the sound was enough to cheer Steve up a bit. Sure, it was looking more and more like the world didn’t want you with him, but at least he got to hear your laugh and admire the way your eyes shined whenever you looked at him. 
Now, a few weeks later, it’s Valentine’s Day and Steve is terrified that he will somehow set your house on fire with his horrible luck. 
He has spent the last two months trying to ask you out. Now, on the day of love itself, Steve is almost too terrified to even approach you. At the rate he’s going, if he tries to ask you out again, he’ll end up telling you he hates you or something. 
He’s miserable. 
Which is how he finds himself once again outside your door, except there’s no flowers in his hands, and he knocks. 
You guys haven’t made any plans tonight, but it’s Valentine’s Day and Steve is so in love with you that it hurts. 
The second his knuckles leave the door, you swing the door wide open and jump into his arms. “Stevie!”
Surprised by such an affectionate reaction, Steve almost falls into the bushes in front of your house. “Woah, hey!”
He steadies the two of you and you simply squeeze him tighter and giggle. You’re in an exceptionally good mood, almost too good of a mood, and Steve’s hands are sweating. He hadn’t exactly come here with a game plan in mind. 
“Happy to see me, I take it?” He mumbles into your ear. 
“Duh,” you press a kiss to his cheek. “It’s Valentine’s Day, why wouldn’t I be excited to see my boyfriend?”
This time, Steve actually does fall into the bush behind him. 
“Oh my god,” you run over and quickly try to help the boy up, but Steve is staring up at the night sky, overcome with pure shock and fear. “Stevie? Steve!”
Steve lays there, motionless as you continue to tug at his jacket. “How long have I been your boyfriend, Y/N?”
At his question, you stop tugging and look at him, confused. “I don’t know, honestly. How long has it been since the fourth of July?”
“The fourth?” Steve sputters. “Y/N, it’s Valentine’s Day and I’m just now finding out you’re my girlfriend?”
“Oh, you didn’t know?”
“No!” Steve finally scrambles out of the bushes and grabs your face with his hands. He feels insane, his hands are shaking a bit as he holds onto you. “When did this happen?”
You scrunch your eyebrows together. “On the fourth. We saw the fireworks, cuddled on the picnic blanket you stole from your mom, you grabbed my hand, and then told me you never wanted this to end. I just… I assumed you meant our relationship?”
Steve blinks. “You… You are the love of my life, Y/N L/N.”
“Well, I’d hope so–” Suddenly Steve’s lips are against yours and he’s kissing you with everything he has within him. All those months of pining after you, all the times he’s failed in asking you to be his, and this entire time you had somehow been his all along. 
God, he is so stupidly in love with you. 
He nips at your bottom lip and you make a sound that’s so soft and sweet in the back of your throat that has Steve’s head spinning. He nips again, revels in the breathy sigh you release against his lips, and Steve’s hand tugs harshly against your waist. 
The kiss is perfect and everything he’s ever dreamed of. 
Then, a thought occurs to Steve. 
“Wait a minute,” he breaks the kiss and your love drunk expression almost makes him groan. He tells himself to focus, even though it’s incredibly difficult to do so. “If we’ve been supposedly dating since July, didn’t you wonder why I hadn’t kissed you yet?”
“Oh, I just thought you were shy.” You shrug, as if it’s no big deal. Then, with a teasing smile, you add, “And I guess I love you too.”
Steve decides, then and there, that you will be the death of him.
And he couldn’t be any happier as he pulls you in again for another bruising kiss. 
Afterall, Steve has about seven months to make up for lost time. 
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bookshelf-dust · 2 months
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i was made to love you
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billy hargrove x fem!reader
gif by @suledins
word count: 1,879
warnings: teeny bit of swearing (i think?), reader has some bad experience with romantic things/insecurities/trust issues, anxious habits (lip picking), anxiety/slight panicking, otherwise quite soft and comforting
a/n: well, hello! i haven’t written for billy since october (gasp), but i’m happy to say that i finally got some inspiration for him again and i am pretty pleased with how this turned out. that inspiration was courtesy of a few prompt lists i found! the first being from this list by @euthymiaaa and the second from this list by @creativepromptsforwriting !! both of those were extremely helpful in getting me back in the groove of things. please check those blogs out!! anyway, i hope you will find some comfort in this and that you’ll enjoy. happy reading!!! <333
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“What’s the matter with you?”
Billy isn’t being mean when he asks you this. His tone isn’t cruel, but instead there’s a lilt to his voice, an almost desperate one. 
He’s asking you to talk to him. The way you’ve been standoffish towards him all day is freaking him out. Your lip is raw from how aggressively you’ve chewed at it, since you’d rather do that than voice your feelings.
But he can’t take seeing you act this way.
“Come on. The windows are gonna start rattling with how you’re bouncin’ your leg, babe.”
You stop on instinct, red-stained fingernails moving back to your bottom lip. 
“Nothing’s wrong, Billy. Just having a bad day.”
But that’s not totally true. Your day had been mundane at best. This feeling, your acting this way, had started when he’d shown up this morning, unannounced, with flowers in his hand. For you. 
Something inside you broke upon seeing him there, knowing he’d spent money on you, knowing that for some reason he was thinking about you. You can’t understand it.
Billy gets up from his place on the couch. His socked feet move across the carpet until he’s sitting down on the coffee table in front of you. His hand grips your knee. You can’t avoid him this way, and it frustrates you even more, because why is it your attention that he wants? 
“I know you better by now than to believe that,” he says firmly.
You can’t handle this. You sit up further on the couch and criss cross your legs so they’re out of his reach. You try not to notice the flash of pain across his face. You’re retreating from him and he doesn’t like it. 
“Why are you doing this, Billy?”
He blinks. “Doing what?”
“Bringing me flowers. Thinking about me. Wanting to spend time with me. Touching me, calling me those names. Why do you do all of that to me?” Your voice breaks over that last word and you exhale, hard. 
Billy’s eyebrows knit together. “Why wouldn’t I?”
You stare at him like he’s suddenly grown a third eye. Like it should be obvious to him why doing all of these things is wrong.
You lift your hand and rub at your chest. “Because I’m me.”
Billy lets out a huff of a laugh, looking over his shoulder like there must be some hidden camera in the room. “Yeah, and?”
Your eyes water. “Can’t you see all that’s wrong with me? There’s so many other girls you could be spending time with. So many you could love or pamper. We’re not even together and you-you’re treating me like I’m special.”
You stand up, now short of breath. Billy stands with you. You keep rubbing your chest. You slip a hand under your sweatshirt and squeeze the soft of your side, leaving fingernail imprints in your skin.
He moves quickly across the floor, recognizing that you’re starting to panic. He takes your hand in his, but keeps your clasped fingers pressed against your chest, just under your collarbones.
“You are special. To me, you’re the only girl in the world,” Billy says. But you’re not looking at him. Your eyes are glued to some spot behind his head. He presses his thumb to your jaw. “Hey. Look at me.” Your eyes find his and he follows a tear as it makes its way down your cheek. “You’re the only girl in the world.”
Your eyes flutter shut and you pull away from him. 
“Th-this doesn’t make sense. I’m not the kind of girl that receives flowers or gets loved on or gets chosen. You’re my favorite person in the world, Billy, but I can’t possibly be what you want.”
He maintains eye contact with you, trying to understand why you’re behaving this way. Why you don’t believe his motives behind treating you the way he does. Like a princess.
You continue on, starting to pace. “My default is being a nervous wreck, Billy. I hate leaving the house, I don’t have any prospects, I’m not exciting…and I don’t have anything t-to offer you.”
And then it clicks.
Everything comes rushing into Billy’s mind, and he understands now, why you’re so confused, why you’re so afraid of the fact that he’s choosing you.
You’ve never had someone treat you this way. The last guy you talked to, the only guy you’ve talked to, wanted you first. But then you realized he wanted to talk when he needed something. You got attached and he took advantage of that. He dangled everything you’d ever wanted right in front of your face and then took it all away.
And now you’re trying to figure out why someone would want you.
The next words to leave your mouth snap Billy out of his stupor.
“I don’t deserve you.” 
Billy swipes a hand down his face, fingers traveling to the back of his neck where he tugs at his hair to keep himself composed. Nothing is more frustrating than having the best girl he’s ever known in front of him and she can’t even see a shred of the value she has. How good she is. 
He sighs. “If you think I am going to validate your pessimistic thoughts, then you’re wrong.”
You stop moving and slowly step back towards the couch. Your hands reach out for the cushions first, like you need to steady yourself or you won’t be able to sit properly. 
This is the part where he’s supposed to leave. To lash out at you and say you’re too anxious, too worried. Thinking about the way those words have been said to you in the past makes you nauseous and your fingers rub at your stomach. 
Billy tracks the motion and sits back down on the coffee table like he had been before. You’re trying to wrap your head around this. 
You’d felt desired for a short time before Billy, and you’d felt special, having been treated like you were. But those features weren’t because of you and who you are, but because it guaranteed you’d be giving attention to someone else. Someone who fed off of that and needed it to feel satisfied. It was never because he really wanted you.
But now Billy does. 
“I’m sorry, Billy. I want to be able to accept that you’re doing all of these things because your intentions are pure and because you actually like me, it’s just that my mind—it can’t comprehend that just yet.”
Billy takes your face in his hands. They’re warm and calloused and big, and your eyes fill just from the feeling. 
“Don’t apologize to me. I understand where you’re comin’ from. But in all honestly, I’ve never felt this way about anyone before. I bring you flowers and ask to take you out and buy you books and stay the night because I want you. I’ve never wanted to do any of that with someone before. I’m not doing it for my gain. But because you…you are worth all of that. I want to make you happy. You understand me?”
You blink, and Billy’s thumb swipes the tear away before it travels down your face. You start to nod.
“I understand. Can you just…” You lock eyes with him. “Be patient with me? I’m gonna have to learn how not to be afraid o-of this and I know it’ll be hard.”
Billy knows your emphasis on “this” means a potential relationship with him. One beyond the slightly-more-than-friends thing you’ve got going on now. If he’s honest with himself, the prospect of that scares the shit out of him too, because he’s never really done this officially either. He’s always been a hookup kind of guy. The few girlfriends he had never lasted long or had some lasting emotional connection. But he knows your life hasn’t been that way. You’re afraid for different reasons. Because you think he’ll slip away and that you’ll really be the version of yourself that you see on a daily basis. 
“Of course I can. I wouldn’t just give up on you because you’re kinda fucked up. That’d be pretty hypocritical, don’t you think?”
The corners of Billy’s mouth twitch. You blink at him, winded at his attempt to make you laugh. 
He chuckles to himself, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead. The gesture steals the breath from your lungs but makes you warm all over. You grab hold of his wrist where it still lingers near your face. Billy is drawing shapes on your shoulder. 
He relaxes his arm and lets you take his hand in your own. You drag your index finger along the lines crossing his palm in every direction.This is more entertaining than anything you’ve done in weeks. Your hand slides up against Billy’s until they’re lined up at the heels, and you push against him in an effort to convey that you want to raise them. 
Billy catches on. You’re trying to compare his hand to your own. He thinks it’s a silent way for you to communicate with him. Like your way of saying: I want this too. I care about you. You matter to me. 
His palm is so warm. Just like the rest of him. And his hand is much bigger than yours, enough so that you hold back a shiver. You want to be able to show Billy that you feel how he does. You want to be able to use those gestures as effortlessly as he does. 
So you lower your fingers until they fall between each of his. And then you’re holding hands. You give Billy a little grin, and he swears he could fucking melt. Seriously, the way you make him feel ought to be studied. 
To him, spending time with you, comforting you, talking to you about the hard things, learning who you are—it’s as easy as breathing. 
It’s like he was made for this. Everything up to this point has prepared him for you. He thinks that somehow, someway, he would’ve found you no matter the situation. You have always been it for him, even when he didn’t know it yet.
You take a deep breath.
I deserve this, you think. I deserve to be cherished and to hold hands. I deserve to let go and see this through.
“Maybe…maybe together we can learn to be a little less fucked up,” you finally say. “I could be easier that way.”
Billy squeezes your hand. “And maybe we’ll get more fucked up in our own special ways.”
That gets a quiet giggle out of you. Shit, he’s won the lottery. 
After a moment of peaceful silence, Billy leans forward, dipping his head down so he’s looking up into your eyes. His own are so very blue this close. With those little flecks of gold. 
“You deserve the world. I need you to know that. I don’t want anyone else. I want to learn you, inside and out. I want you with me. Is that okay with you?”
You look at him, at the way his curls frizz out by his ears, the way his freckles have faded because of the cold, the way his hand shakes when it leaves yours.
“That’s okay. More than okay.”
————
please let me know if you liked this! feedback is always appreciated!! comments and reblogs mean more than you know. <33
note: none of the gifs or images i use are mine! i get most of my images from pinterest or here, and gifs from about the same. please let me know if i ever don’t credit someone properly!
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satorhime · 11 months
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. ・。・ self checkout ࿐ nagi seishiro.
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── ◜ ⪩⪨ ◞ content ㆍ﹒fluff, aged up!nagi, pro footballer!nagi, height difference (reader is shorter than nagi), shopping trips, slightly suggestive, established relationship. f!reader. w.c. 2k & not proofread.
── ◜ ⪩⪨ ◞ synopsis ㆍ﹒nagi enjoys running errands if the two of you go together. & ໒꒰ྀི ´ ꒳ ` ꒱ྀ��ა notes: baby’s first blue lock fic !! honestly i’m supa nervous bc i haven’t written 4 them before n i’m still figuring things out but i hope u enjoy reading this anw <333
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“this date is so tiring,” nagi laments for the fifth time since you stepped through the automated sliding doors of the neighborhood supermarket. he blows out a breath from his puffed cheeks, sounding as if he is on the verge of collapsing while you browse the shelves for pantry essentials and late night snacks. “when can we go home?”
a trendy song from a summer spotify mix croons over the tinny speakers overhead, its bubblegum pop lyrics interrupted every now and then by a cheery voice advertising new items and upcoming discounts. the supermarket is busier than when you and seishiro usually stop by, which isn’t all that surprising considering it’s the end of the day. college students carry armfuls of instant ramen and sugary sodas for study sessions and old ladies browse for medicinal teas while parents push full carts of groceries, ignoring their wailing children who press their little noses against the frosty glass of the freezers, begging to be given overpriced ice creams locked away inside.
and you resist the urge to roll your eyes with exasperation, glancing over to where your boyfriend leans heavily on the handle of the cart he has been tasked with pushing for you— his long fingers tapping away at a mobile game on the screen of his phone.
“that’s because,” you begin, wagging a finger at him when you turn around and toss an item into the bottom of the cart. “it’s not a date, sei. i told you that i had to run errands today and you insisted on coming with me when you hate it.”
“‘s’boring at home when you’re not there, so it seemed like a good idea at first,” he shrugs, rolling the cart further down the aisle when you’re on the move again. slothy, midwinter gray eyes drag lazily over your body— taking in the way your faded t-shirt (which is, really, just one of his old ones) rides up a little on your body, exposing the cute little dimples in the soft part of your back as you stand on your tiptoes, struggling to reach one of the higher shelves in the freezer section.
you are well aware that nagi hates daily tasks. things such as making the bed in the morning, washing the dishes after dinner, or visiting the laundromat once a week requires too much energy from your drowsy footballer boyfriend, but it makes you happy to know that he tries, even if he falls asleep while doing it; that he will do anything if you are involved, and nothing if you aren’t.
like right now, he abandons his mobile game and the shopping cart in the middle of the aisle without care to come over and help you, making a mother of two-under-two glare at him viciously. he snorts, sliding his hand into the back pocket of your denim shorts, a romantic comedy habit of his when the two of you are walking anywhere together. nagi’s head tilts cutely to one side, blinking owlishly up at the shelves. “which one d’you wanna get, shortstack?”
“i am not short,” you huff, twisting your mouth to one side at his teasing, but you point to the item you want— an assorted pack of ice lollies. “shelves are designed against short people. and i dunno— are we in the mood for ice cream or popsicles?”
it’s hard to make a decision because freezers full of summer treats line both sides of the aisle. tubs of gourmet gelatos, variety packs of creamy ice candies, and an endless selection of mochi with custard fillings in the middle that make your mouth water at the thought of bringing them home with you.
“i’ll eat them no matter what anyway,” he shrugs, unwilling to be the one to choose, but then his gray eyes glance down at your lips, then back to the items in front of you. you swear that his eyes darken to a stormier color, even though his expression never changes. “you make cute sounds when you suck on ice pops, and you always taste sweet after. get those.”
and then he faces forward, browsing the selection of ice creams with interest, as if his words didn’t short circuit a current in your brain. you’ll never understand how seishiro can say the most outlandish things so casually, only to return to what he’s doing while you’re left attempting to calm your fast heart.
“ice pops it is,” you say, a little winded. “make sure to get the second pack, and not the first.”
“mhnn, why’s it matter? the second one’s farther back. they all look the same to me.”
“they’re not. the first is one everybody has touched or returned.”
“that . . . makes sense,” he considers it, then he nods, lips formed into a little ‘o’ shape. “okay, we’ll get the second one.”
you watch as he steps forward, pushing the first pack of ice lollies aside to select the second as you requested, reaching the item with ease and heavens, it’s moments like these when you are reminded just how much bigger seishiro is. he’s always towered over your shorter height and it’s so, so unfair how he uses it to his advantage, making your tummy burn at the sight. frosty air wafts from the open door of the freezer, bringing chills over your heated skin. “‘s a good thing i was here, since you’re so little— there was no way you could reach it.”
“‘m not little,” you mumble, all pouty because nagi is squishing your cheeks between two finger pads. “you’re just so tall. it’s unfair.”
“want me to be shorter?” he asks, and before you can ask what he means, nagi drops the pack of ice pops into your hands and deflates dramatically, bending down to drape himself over your frame. his head tucked against your shoulder, the footballer’s milky fringe tickling the skin of your neck as he closes his eyes. “man, now ‘m even more tired.”
“seishiro, you’re heavy.”
“i know,” he sighs, eyes shuttering below thick lashes, but he makes no effort to move away from your body. instead, his hand slithers under your shirt. making you shiver because his fingertips are dewy and cold from the arctic blast of the freezer and the frozen treat he picked up. you hiss, squirming under his touch as his fingers trail across your belly. “but i’m tired ‘n’ you feel s’soft, like a pillow.”
“nagi, off,” you wheeze, his extra weight making it hard for you to properly breathe. it’s easy to forget how solid he is, straight lines of athletic muscle that usually has you cow-eyed and cooing, as long as it’s not weighing you down in the middle of a supermarket. you try to shake him off, but the midfielder only squeezes you against his body even tighter, his slightly damp lips pressing a kiss to the nape of your neck, sending a shiver down your spine. “we’re never gonna get anything done like this, you lazy boy. if you don’t wanna walk, go wait in the sitting area with the grandpas.”
he sighs in defeat and shakes his head, pressing his lips together in that cute frown he pulls whenever he’s thinking. then, he’s dropping his arms from you suddenly. “mmhn, got a better idea.”
“and what’s that—”
you face nagi, only to catch your boyfriend with one foot in the shopping cart as he tries to hoist himself over the railing and inside of the basket.
“sei, you can’t fit in there—!” your eyes flicker between him, and the elderly man judging the two of you at the other end of the aisle. “you’re too big.”
“you’re always saying things like that,” he says, and the innuendo intertwined in the words flies over your pretty head because with one boost, he’s hopping over the railing and sinking into the cart, the metal rattling in protest. you stand there, dumbstruck as he settles. “now i can stay with you without walking.”
“yeah, but now that means i have to push you,” you grumble. “i should leave you here and get a new cart.”
but it’s hard to refuse when your boyfriend is that cute. his impossibly long legs are folded against his chest so that he can fit inside the shopping cart comfortably, taking extra care not to crush any of the delicate items surrounding him. the lower half of his face is buried into the collar of his soft hoodie as he absently chews on the drawstrings, but you can still see the sanrio bandaid you put on him yesterday after he got a nasty elbow to the cheek during football practice.
even though you two are already receiving strange looks from other shoppers passing by, you grip the handle, pushing the cart and your boyfriend dutifully, rolling it onto the next aisle.
“you look ridiculous,” you tell him, but you’re grinning. “but here, you’re on list duty. what do we need to get next?”
nagi’s eyes dutifully scan over the shopping list open in the notes app of your phone, his fingernail scrolling the screen lightly.
“it says ‘ramen because my greedy athlete bf keeps eating it all’ so y’need to get . . . oi, you mean me—”
“i wonder who wrote that there,” you whistle innocently, plucking the device out of his hands, wheeling him away fast.
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the rest of your shopping trip is a blur, except for you turning a corner too fast and nearly dumping him out of the cart or the weird looks shoppers continue to give you because by the time you’re lining up in the queue, nagi is buried under the items because he takes up too much space. there’s a bag of rice on one shoulder, a pack of ramen on the other and fresh radishes sprouting from the snowy peaks of his head. not to mention, he’s still holding the pack of ice pops, condensation dripping over his hands.
“you’re making them melt, sei.” because he runs hot a heated blanket in the summer, and you can sympathize with the poor popsicles being defrosted in his big hands.
“‘m gonna eat one so they won’t— oh, hey this one is lemon,” he says, prying open the cardboard lid and tearing open the plastic wrapper of a lemon crème ice pop. tongue peeking out to lick before he’s holding it over his shoulder for you to taste next. “try it. i don’t sound as cute as you when i eat them.”
“sei, you’re not supposed to open those before we—” but nagi pushes the cold treat between your lips insistently, your eyes rounding wide, whining in protest as the ice pop hits your sensitive teeth. but it does taste good— creamy, sweet and sour flavors coating the surface of your tongue. “oh, it’s sh’good. we should get another pack.”
“see? y’make the cutest sounds when you suck it.”
“shut up, seishiro.”
you begin placing the items on the conveyor belt, listening to the irritating bleep, bleep, bleep of the scanner as the cashier rings up each product. you’re not frugal, but you peep at the total on the screen every now and then with a wince.
“that’s it for you, or are you buying the man in your cart too, ma’am?” the cashier asks, glancing at nagi as he finishes off the melting ice pop in the shopping cart, chin resting on top of his knees.
“no,” and you giggle, cheeks warming as you roll your eyes in exasperation. “this one is already mine.”
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endlessthxxghts · 5 months
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Need You
Husband!Frankie Morales x wife!afab!reader || W/C: ≈5k
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Summary: Tío Santi comes to the rescue when Frankie confides in him about how the two of you have been way too busy for one another.
Warnings: Crazy events of Triple Frontier don't happen; let's just give these guys some happiness. Instead of coke, Frankie’s drug is you (LMAOOO). No “y/n.” No physical descriptions of reader (besides clothing choices), she looks like you😏 and big strong man Frankie can carry you <333. Reader knows a bit of Spanish. SMUT 18+ MDNI. Oral sex (f receiving). Unprotected P in V sex. Slow and sloppy😵‍💫. Breeding kink. Domestic kink (they get really spurred on calling each other husband and wife/esposo y esposa). Possessive kink. Daddy kink (but in the sense that reader just loves seeing Frankie as a Dad and wants to give more babies to parent!!!). Pussy slapping... Cum play/eating. Vaginal fingering/fucking. Squirting. Slight Dom!Frankie (he just really wants to hear his wife beg for his cum!!). Mentions of shower ✨activities✨. A lot of love basically — physically and emotionally. Extra warning for the parents who can’t leave their child with other people — Tío Santi takes their baby out to eat and get treats; she’s in good hands, I promise!!!
A/N: Husband Frankie is rotting my brain bad. Especially girl dad!Frankie. My ovaries are screaming. So here's this little 5k bad boy I whipped up. This is very much a porn with a bit of (yummy domestic) plot. Hope y’all enjoy. Thank you to my sweet sweet bae @javierpena-inatacvest for proof-reading this and hyping me up since it’s my first Frankie story to be posted! I love you so much 🥹🥹💚 (edit: someone had a comment about why Isa is amorcito instead of amorcita, so in case you had that question as well, read my explanation here!)
MASTERLIST || NOTIF BLOG
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“Querida, I’m home!” Frankie called out. 
“In Isa’s room, baby!” you responded. 
Santi tagged along on his treck home today, offering to take Isa out for lunch and sweets after Frankie told him how both of you have been crazy busy lately. He helps himself to the kitchen while Frankie makes his way to you.
Frankie lightly knocks on the door before entering, gasping out in delight to earn a bubbly reaction from his three year old daughter. “Ay, mi esposa (my wife),” he exclaims, giving you a soft kiss to your lips. He looks to his daughter and grabs her from you, “y mi amorcito (and my little love),” he says, throwing her up in the air, coaxing a few more giggles out of her. 
He sets her back down to play with her toys, and Frankie turns to you, pulling you in for a proper hello. Your lips slot against each other in a needy embrace, still as reserved as you two can be with your child in the room. He pulls away first, arms not leaving your waist. “Hi, mama,” he says with an adoring smile. “Hi, honey,” you respond, heart still skipping a few beats as if it’s your first time meeting him. He guides you to outside the doorway, closing Isa’s room ajar, so you both are out of her view.
“Santi’s here,” he tells you. “He offered to, uh, take Isa out to get food and some dessert,” he adds nonchalantly, trying to gauge your reaction. It’s been three years since your baby was born, and still you’re always reluctant to leave her with others. It’s not that you don’t trust the people you leave her with, it’s the fact that if anything were to happen — Gods forbid — you wouldn’t be able to be there, to comfort and protect her. 
Your eyebrow raises in response. He squeezes you tighter into him, ducking closer to your ear. “And I was thinking,” he kisses the sweet spot near your pulse point, “we could take some time for ourselves?” He continues kissing and nipping at your neck, uttering a small please baby as he makes his way back to your lips. 
Little did Frankie know, you didn’t need any convincing at all. You were just about ready to drop her off at your parents as soon as he got home from work today. You don’t tell him though. You like hearing him be a little desperate for you. 
His hand skates lower to your ass, the other hand making its way to cup your front. “It’s been weeks, baby, I need to taste her,” he says, damn near a whine. 
You grab both sides of his face and pull him into a searing kiss. “Go pack her bag,” you whisper as you pull away from his grasp, making your way to Santi to give him the rundown. 
In record time, Frankie packs Isa’s go bag in under five minutes: diapers, extra change of clothes, baby wipes, baby Benadryl, and some of her comfort snacks just in case she’s extra picky today. He picks up his baby, assessing if she needs a diaper change — she’s dry — and heads to the kitchen. “Wanna hang with Tío Santi today, mi amor?”
Her face lights up, and she squeals, “yes, daddy, pleeeeaaase!” 
He chuckles, his heart warming at how much she loves his best friend, his brother. 
He and Isa enter the kitchen to you giving Santi the rundown on her allergies. 
“We exposed her to all the major allergens already and no reactions, except for peanuts — she gets a little red, so just watch out for that. There’ll be Benadryl in her pack just in case.”
Santi gives you a salute, “Sir, yes, sir.” 
You playfully roll your eyes at his antics. “One more thing,” you say as you go to kiss your baby goodbye. “Usually I’d ask if you could send pictures throughout the time you’re gone…” you look at Frankie. 
Santi smirks, knowing where this is headed. 
“But you don’t have to. At least for today,” your face remains composed, but the heat spreading across your cheeks exposes you. 
“Got it. No peanuts,” Santi says, reaching for the bag off Frankie’s shoulder and the keys from his pocket, “and no interruptions,” he winks at you both. “Let me know when you guys are ready for us to come back,” he looks to his beautiful niece in her mother’s arms, peppering her with goodbye kisses. 
“Vamanos (let’s go), mija!” Santi says, prying her out of your arms. Frankie reaches to give her one last kiss on her forehead, and they’re out the door. 
As soon as the front door clicks shut, Frankie is on you in an instant, too riled up to wait until you’re in the bedroom. He needs you badly, and he needs you now. He’s caging you in between his body and the kitchen counter, lips on you like he’ll die tonight if he doesn’t touch you. Your lungs are burning for air, yet you don’t pull away. You can’t. He’s too addicting. Too much time has passed without the pleasure you two bring one another, so you’ll sacrifice one survival need for another. 
Before you know it, his hands are at the base of your ass, lifting you to the kitchen counter, and his lips are dragging down your jaw, your neck, and into your cleavage, nipping every little exposed place your cropped tank allows him. His hands are at the waistband of your sweats, pulling them down as he brings himself to his knees. 
“Oh, fuck, baby,” he takes a deep breath in. His eyes are impossibly darker, demeanor turning animalistic as he feels just your sweats alone and no underwear. He gets a view of your already glistening pussy, and he can’t help the growl that leaves his throat. 
He settles his hands under the globe of your ass and scoots you to the edge, your thighs finding solace on his shoulders. You immediately lean back on your elbows, knowing the moment his mouth is on you, your body will go weak at his touch. 
Without any warning, his tongue licks the entirety of your leaking seam, hands automatically gripping you tighter as the taste of you hits his tongue. The sound that leaves you sends shivers down his spine, his cock painfully hard and leaking in his jeans. He licks you a few more times, letting his drool drip down his tongue and spread all over you, making you a soaking mess of your arousal and his spit. 
Once you’re drenched to his liking, he dives right in, face completely flushed against your sex, sloppily sucking and licking into you, hitting all the right buttons to make you see fucking stars. By his hands or his tongue, he still knows how to steer you in the direction of the most beautiful constellations, even if they are behind your eyelids. 
“Frankie, fuck-!” you yell out, your inhibitions automatically down with the fact that the house is left to the two of you. Frankie’s hips involuntarily buck into nothing at your moans, missing the sounds you always made for him. Ever since Isa was born, both of you made a conscious effort to work on your noise levels — especially you. You were the most vocal he’s ever been with, and fuck if it didn’t make him all the more whipped. He almost forgot what your sounds do to him. Almost. But now that you’ve given him a taste again after so long, he needs more. 
He circles your clit a few times and sucks it, hard. He pulls off with a lewd pop, his dominant hand leaving your ass and making its way to your entrance. You’re such a fucking mess that his two fingers slide right in, giving you the extra push Frankie needed to pull more heavenly moans and whimpers out of you. “Let me hear you, mama,” he says, tongue circling your clit as his fingers work you to the edge. “Sing for me, baby,” and with what little strength you have, you force your head forward to watch his ministrations, and the sight is what sends you falling first. Frankie’s mouth is wrapped around the entirety of you, eyes dark and on yours, his hooked nose rubbing against all the right places while his arm muscles ripple as he fucks his fingers in and out of you. 
“Shit- oh, fuck-” you whine out, your head like a bobble head, too heavy to maintain upright. Frankie curls his fingers just right, and-
 “Oh my God, Francisco, oh my God!” Your hips are bucking into his face, his own strength unable to keep your hips down with how hard your orgasm is hitting you. He lets you ride out your wave on his face, drinking every last drop coming out of you. 
His fingers are out of you now, Frankie immediately cleaning them in his mouth, not wanting to Iet any of your sweet syrup go to waste. Your chest is heaving, eyes clamped shut, and your body is entirely limp. Frankie stands to his full height, and he’s pulling you up to sit up straight, his hands guiding your legs to wrap around his waist. He chuckles a little. “Still with me?” 
Your torso loses its strength momentarily, and you almost fall back. His arms immediately wrap around you, supporting you to maintain your upright position. You laugh at yourself, a blissed out smile gracing your face. He feels his heart flutter, just as strong as when he first met you. “Yeah, yeah, I’m here, you monster,” you lightly laugh, resting your head on him. “God, I love you,” your voice slightly muffled from burrowing yourself into his chest. 
His one hand leaves your back and wraps itself around your jaw, bringing your lips up to his. You can taste yourself on him, and you can already feel another fire being lit deep in your core, your arousal dripping onto the kitchen counter as your lips continue with his. 
You pull away, breathless, ready for more. “Take me to bed, baby.” 
“You sure you’re ready now?” He smirks. 
“Keep teasing, and I won’t let you cum inside of me, big boy.” 
His lips find yours again in a bruising manner, a growl leaves him as he sucks your bottom lip into his mouth. “Last I checked, you were the one begging for me to fuck my cum so deep inside you that it had no other option but to latch on. If that’s what you want again, baby, all you gotta do is ask.” 
You whimper in response, your spurt of dominance dissipating immediately. 
“That what you want, baby? Come on, tell me. I wanna hear it.” 
Your eyes are glossing over, too pent up with a fertile need to get your brain to come up with any kind of response. His grasp on your jaw tightens, his lips ghosting yours as he talks. “Tell me you want my cum, baby. Tell me you want me to fill you up so fucking full of me.” 
“Yes, baby, fuck, I need you. I need you inside of me, I need you to fill me. Please, you’re such a good daddy, I wanna give you more, please,” you ramble on. His mouth is on you again in a sloppy embrace as he picks you up and guides you two to your bedroom. 
He sets you down at the edge of the bed. He guides your shirt off, then his. He pulls back for a second and shucks his bottoms off, giving you a complete view of his tanned and toned naked body, his little tummy a little soft around the edges. Your pussy is crying at the sight. 
You don’t waste anymore time as you settle yourself to the center of your bed, your legs already falling open with muscle memory. Frankie licks his lips at the sight. Part of him just wants to go down on you again, but the way his cock is screaming at him for release and your pussy is clenching on nothing—yeah, his oral fixation can wait. 
He settles himself in between your legs. His hands are grounded into the pillow beside your head as your legs automatically hook around his waist. He rubs his length across your wetness, you mewl for him as he lets his tip drag across your clit. 
“Baby, please,” you whine. 
“I’ve got you, baby.” 
His tip breaches your entrance. God, you’ve missed him so much, and you tell him exactly that. 
His lips are on yours, never really satiated with the amount of kisses he takes from you, “I fuckin’ missed you so much.” He pushes deeper in. “God, my beautiful wife, I love you so much,” he breathes out as his lips graze your temple. 
His hips are flushed with yours, your hands secure themselves around his neck. “Please, baby, let’s never go this long again, I need you so bad,” he rasps. He’s pulling out again, his head kissing your core. “Need you always,” he says as he pushes back in, maintaining a slow but hard rhythm.
You pull him impossibly closer into you, your hands grasping and feeling him anywhere you can reach. You rock your hips to meet every push and pull of his own, lips ghosting each other with each movement, your eyes threatening to roll back at how entirely full you feel. 
He’s taking his fucking time with you tonight, fucking you slowly into the mattress, harder with each thrust, reveling in sound of your pussy each time he pushes in, and he can’t help the way he smiles into the sloppy kisses and shared breaths. 
You’re a complete mess, tears falling from your eyes at how addicting he feels mixed with the pure love you have for this man. You really don’t even register what you’re babbling about, but that doesn’t matter. Frankie’s in heaven listening to a mixture of your drawn out moans, the occasional Lord’s name in vain, and the repeated I love you, baby, I love you so much.
One of his hands drag down to your clit, rubbing clumsy yet perfect circles, forcing your dam to finally break. He’s completely soaked in you and so are your thighs and the bedsheets. Your fall is slow but all-consuming. Your back arches into him, your nipples rubbing deliciously against his chest, and the feeling is the final push that sends him painting your walls white. 
His hand leaves your swollen clit and wraps itself around your lower back, helping you maintain your arch form as he continues rocking himself into you well into his softened state. He can feel your body start to tense out of overstimulation, so he finally pulls out of you, leaving you a leaking mess of both your and his cum. He sits back on his hunches, his fingers drawing circles on your inner thighs, just admiring the sight until his cock begins to stir again. 
“Jesus, Morales,” you giggle breathily as you clocked the jump of his length.
He leans over you again, giving you a sweet, lengthy kiss as he begins to slide himself off the bed. “What can I say, baby? I’m insatiable with you,” he gives you a mischievous smirk. 
He heads to the kitchen, returning to the bedroom with a chilled glass of water for you. “Drink up,” he says.
Before he makes it to the en suite bathroom, he adds, “I’m not done with you yet, mama.”
Despite the sensitivity down there, your pussy flutters at his words, craving him down there in any way shape or form.
He returns with a warm cloth, cleaning you up as best as he can with your second round of slick and his endless load of cum pouring from you. He sets the cloth down somewhere on the floor and situates himself up against the headboard. He wordlessly guides you to lay between his legs, your chest resting against his. 
“Wanna check on Isa?” Frankie asks, albeit a little shy. You smirk a little, knowing you’re usually the one to cave first. You make grabby hands at your phone on the nightstand, nudging Frankie to grab it since his wingspan is much larger than yours. He hands it to you, and you immediately dial Santi, hitting the speaker button as it rings.
“Hey, Santi.” 
“Hey, Mrs. Fish,” you can hear him laugh at his name for you. Frankie also gives a little laugh. He thought it was the funniest thing he’s ever said during your guys’ wedding reception. He calls you that more than your own name now. 
“How’s it going?” you try to ask in an unconcerned fashion. Santi knows you both all too well to know that isn’t the case. 
“You know you two didn’t have to quit just to check on her, right? Tío Santi knows how to distract! Also, tío Santi knows how to put her down for a nap!” He says proudly.
“I believe you, Santi, don’t worry. Just checking. Frankie just kept bugging-” 
Before you could continue your sentence, Frankie’s hands immediately go to your sides, hitting all your ticklish spots. You scream out, a loud stream of giggles leaving you. 
“Coño, por favor, not while I’m on the phone!” You hear Santi say. “Sorry, Sorry,” you say, still out of breath from Frankie’s merciless attack. 
“Actually, Santi, can I ask another favor?” 
Frankie looks at you confused. You smirk at him. “Is tío Santi prepared for his first sleepover?” His confusion fades and immediately his eyes are consumed with pure lust, his soft brown eyes turning black. 
Santi is silent for a moment. “You two are downright feral, you know that, right?”
You stifle a laugh. “Ay Dios mío (oh my God),” Frankie mutters. 
“As long as I get another niece — or nephew, I really have no preference — in nine months time…” Santi trails off in thought. “Then I’d dedicate every damn weekend to her,” he says. 
You turn your head around and up to meet Frankie’s eyes, both of you in shock at Santi’s silent invitation, silence fills the air for a moment before you finally bring yourself to speak. 
“Oh? Alright, then,” you softly say. “Thank you, Santi, you’re the best. We’ll text you, okay? Bye,” you hang up, not giving Santi any chances to return the call-ending formalities. You and Frankie are still looking at each other, eyes wild at the proposition before you. 
“Every weekend, huh?” Frankie says, breaking the tension first. His head dips down to place a kiss where your neck and shoulder meet. 
You suck in a breath, arousal forming faster than a strike of lightning. “Mhm,” you barely get out. His hands are roaming your body now, your phone thrown haphazardly somewhere in the room, long forgotten. He places his hands on the insides of your thighs, spreading you open and keeping them atop his own legs, so he can hold you open. His one hand is spread largely over your lower belly while his other hand is already teasing your core. 
His finger circles directly on your clit, you yelp in response, your body twitching. “Every weekend, I’m gonna get to fuck my wife, huh?” Frankie says into your ear. “Gonna fill her full of me?” Your hips buck at the huskiness of his voice, of his possessiveness over you. Your response is incoherent, more of a moan than anything. Next thing you know, your room reverberates with the noise of a wet slap. 
He spanked your pussy. The sound that escapes your throat is beyond arousing, Frankie’s cock back to life, dripping on your lower back. “Answer me properly, baby,” he says again, softly. His fingers are circling your clit again, forcing more of your wetness out of you, his cum from earlier still seeking its place on your bedsheets.
“Mmm, fuck-” you breathe, “Yes, yes, every weekend, baby,” you’re nodding your head frantically as you try to keep your eyes trained on his actions down below. “Every weekend you’re gonna make me so full,” you whimper, “Gonna fuck a baby into me, daddy, I need you so bad.”
He slides two of his fingers into you at your words, his hips grind into your back at the feel of your warmth, of his spend keeping you nice and wet. His fingers pump in and out of you at a languid pace, his fingers arching in a come-here motion to beckon more of his cum onto his fingers. He pulls out of you momentarily, analyzing the mess he’s made. “Open, querida,” he whispers, likely in a trance at the sight. 
You open your mouth, tongue out and ready. He sticks his fingers into your mouth, and you lap up his salty spend greedily, as if it were the sweetest of syrups. You taste a distinct tanginess on his fingers, most likely the product of your own arousal. Your eyes fall shut at your taste, eyes feeling heavy and too blissed out to stay open. He pulls out of your mouth with a pop and grabs your chin, turning your face to his. He pulls you in for an open-mouthed kiss, wet and hot. His hand leaves your face and returns to your core. His fingers are back inside you, pushing in and out as his palm grinds perfectly into your clit. Your hips are moving in tandem, providing you with the perfect rhythm to soak him all over again. His lips never break from your own, tongues dancing in a way only you two get to know. 
Your hand seeks purchase at the back of his neck, tugging at the base of his curls, taking away his opportunity to break away from you. He moans into your mouth at the sharp sensation, your lower back a sticky mess from how much he’s leaking onto you. 
Finally, you break away, lips still connected by the thinnest of spit lines. “Baby, I- I’m gonna cum, shit-”
Frankie lets out a growl, desperate to have you fall apart on him. He maintains his same pace, adding a bit more pressure of his palm to your clit, his other hand pushing harder down into your belly, knowing how crazy the stimulation drives you. “Give it to me,” he mumbles in your ear, his heavy breathing fanning across your cheek. “Need it, baby. Need you,” he whines. 
“Fuck-!” you yell out, head pushing harder into his shoulder, eyes clamping shut and forming white, blinding fireworks beneath your eyelids. He fucks his fingers in you as you ride out your high, tears letting loose as your pussy squirts into his hand and all over both your bottom halves. 
The sight transforms him into a cumming mess, the only stimulation being the friction from your backside as he rutted into you. You don’t notice the warm wetness between your bodies until your body falls completely limp against him, breathing still heavy but slowly returning to normal. Frankie bejewels your face with sweet kisses — from your temples to the edge of your shoulder that he can reach — as you slowly come back to Earth. 
You look up at him now, a soft smile spread across your face. His heart stutters at the sight. You shift your back a little. “Did you…?”
“Yes, I did,” Frankie admits way too quickly, embarrassment flooding his face. 
You pull him into one more kiss before you start to get up. “Come on. Shower and then we eat,” you tell him. “You didn’t get to settle yourself down after work,” you add, slightly scolding him for his impatience yet also silently thanking him. 
“I can always eat in the shower,” Frankie adds suggestively, his eyes giving your body a once over as you stand beside the bed, waiting for him to get a move on. 
“Morales!” you gasp out. “Bad,” you say, shaking your head from side to side. 
“You know it’s gonna happen, mi amor (my love),” he says as he stands, arms wrapping around your waist as he pulls you into him, seeking your warmth. 
And it does happen. He makes you fall apart on his tongue twice, and you pay him back by reducing him down to jelly legs as you fuck his cum down your throat. By the time you two actually start your shower, the water is completely cold, not one drop of hot water available. 
Post-shower, you two cook a fast, simple meal, too eager to be on each other again, but too aware of how important it is to give your body sustenance in order to continue with your feral behavior. You only get a few hours of sleep that night. Falling asleep after each round only to wake back up a horny, dripping mess just to fuck again. You don’t remember the last time you two did something like this, but damn were you two needing it. You made a mental note to thank Santi for his much needed offer.
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The next morning you wake up at seven, the first sensation you feel for the day is your sore pussy, red and puffy as she begs you to give her a break. You look at the knocked out man beside you, give him a kiss on the forehead and break away from his hold, bringing yourself to the bathroom. You take your phone with you. 
[07:13] Just woke up. Drop Isabela off whenever you’re ready. 
[07:15] God, no wonder she’s up already. She’s got your early ass schedule. 
You laugh to yourself, picturing Santi a half asleep man child as your daughter crawls all over him, forcing him to get up, too. What Santi didn’t know was that it was actually Isa’s schedule that you were on. 
[07:16] Pobrecito (poor thing). :( 
[07:16] She’ll probably be asking for Frankie soon. She always cuddles him in the morning. 
[07:17] Yep, she just did. I’ll feed her some breakfast now, then we’ll be on our way. That good, Mrs. Fish?
[07:18] If it’s good with little Fish, then it’s good with me. 
He sends you a thumbs up, and you set your phone down. You wash up and get ready for the day. 
After you brush your teeth and wash your face, you head to Frankie’s side of the closet and grab one of his soft, cotton tees to throw on. 
You head to the kitchen, your first course of action being to fire up the espresso machine. Espresso is the only form of coffee you drink, and soon enough, Frankie followed in your footsteps. Just as you suspected, as soon as the smell of the beans filled the air, Frankie appeared in the kitchen. His sleepy eyes and sexed out hair on display nearly cause your knees to buckle, your aching pussy betraying your want for a lazy morning. 
He makes his way to you and kisses you, soft and slow, probably needing a lazy morning just as much as you. “Good morning, mi esposa (my wife),” he says, voice still raspy from sleep. 
“Mmm, good morning, mi esposo (my husband),” you smile up at him. “Sleep well?”
“With the sleep that I did get, I’d say yeah,” he says. “You really tired me out, hermosa (beautiful),” he adds.
You pull him down for another kiss. You’ll never tire of the feeling. “Waffles?”
His eyes light up, a boyish grin on his face. “Yes, please.”
Around 8:30 as you and Frankie finish your waffles, the front door is unlocking. A little girl with crazy hair comes busting in, running straight for the both of you to pull you guys into a tight group hug. 
“Mommy! Daddy!” she screams.
“Mi amorcito,” Frankie responds, matching her energy. “Mi niña loca (my crazy girl),” you squeal. “I missed you so much!” you add. 
You and Frankie kiss each of her cheeks, sandwiching her little face. 
“Did you have fun with tío Santi?” you ask.
“So much fun, mommy! We had ice cream for break-”
Before she could finish, Santi chimes in. “O-o-okayyyyy, Isa!” he claps his hand once. “Why don’t you bring this to your room,” he hands her a tiny gift bag — probably the product of some shopping they did — “while I talk to mommy and daddy?”
“Okay, tío Santi!” She takes the bag and makes her way to her room. 
Your eyebrows are raised in mock scolding as you wait for Santi to explain himself. “Hey! In my defense, those puppy dog eyes are a killer. I couldn’t say no.”
The three of you break out into laughter, Frankie going in for a hug, clapping Santi on the back as he releases him. 
“Waffles?” you offer Santi. He graciously accepts, making his way to the other side of the kitchen counter, helping himself. 
“So-” you and Frankie say at the same time. Santi pauses his actions mid-bite. 
Frankie nudges you to speak first. You clear your throat to ease the awkwardness in the room. 
“So,” you start again. “Were you, uh… were you serious about watching Isa?” you ask?
“Every weekend?” Frankie adds. 
You giggle, nodding an affirmative at your husband. “Yes, every weekend?” 
Santi finishes the bite he paused on, and sets his waffle down. “You dirty dogs!” he says. 
“Pope, come on,” Frankie’s palms go over his cheeks that are currently turning red at Santi’s teasing. 
He lets out a laugh. “Sí, cabrón (yes, asshole),” Santi says, slapping Frankie’s shoulder.  “Of course I’m serious. I’d do anything for both of you, and especially that demon of a little girl.” 
Your heart warms at Santi’s sentiment. You’re beyond grateful Frankie has a best friend like him. 
“On one condition,” Santi adds, his eyebrow quirked up.
“Anything,” you say eagerly. Frankie nods his head in agreement with you.
“I also wasn’t kidding when I said I’d need another sobrino (niece/nephew).”
You and Frankie look at each other, your stares saying everything they needed to. Yeah, Santi didn’t need to worry about that. 
And you were right when the next Saturday morning, a month and four tío Santi sleepovers later, you and Frankie presented Santi with your pregnancy test displaying two pink lines.
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End note: Thank you all so much for reading! Likes, comments, reblogs, etc, — all your support means the absolute world to me. I wouldn’t be able to do this without all of you. Thank you so so so much. There are genuinely not enough words to express my gratitude. As always feedback for my stories (at a technical sense) is also super super helpful whether it is constructive or positive! Anything helps me to be the best writer that I can be. All my love! Xo
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psychedelic-ink · 4 months
Text
ㅤㅤㅤ✦ 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐒𝐓, 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐒
ㅤㅤmodern!oberyn martell x f!reader
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genre: smut, minors dni, modern au
word count: 2k
summary: when you accidentally blurt out one of the fantasies that you kept locked up in your head, oberyn is more than eager to oblige to your request.
warnings: piv, anal sex, first time anal, rimming, fingering, lots of lube and praise
a/n: we did a secret santa for our server space sisters and my giftee was @iamasaddie! Happy holidays love! I hope you enjoy this little smutty fic, I definitely enjoyed writing it 🎄🎄🎄
can you guys believe i couldn't find one decent image of a peach being fingered???? a shame really
**stunning divider by the amazing @saradika <333
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Everything about Oberyn drives you crazy. 
The way he dresses, the way he smells, the melodic lilt of his voice—every part of him you adore and cherish. You’re undeniably lucky to have this man in your life and not only that but to have him as a partner is something you’re in awe of every single day. He satisfies you like no man ever could. He gives you every bit of himself. His tongue, his fingers. . . it’s almost as if the man was solely created to bring pleasure to you. 
But, despite all of that, you’re still not as open as you wish to be. You can never be as blunt with him as he is with you. He needs to drag your desires out of you. Tease you until you snap and practically shout at him to make you come. Oberyn doesn’t seem to mind. In fact, he’d said on multiple occasions how much he enjoyed it. 
“Look at you so wet around my cock,” he purrs, the back of his tongue hitting the roof of his mouth roughly on the word cock. Oberyn’s right. You are wet. Soaked even. Every time he rocks you forward you feel the wet fabric of the bedding scraping your outer knee. You moan loudly into the pillows, fluttering around him as he fucks, fucks, and fucks himself deeper into you. 
You’re not sure where you end and he begins. Sex with him is always like this. Mind numbingly beautiful. Satisfying. You feel the warmth of the Christmas lights framing your window kissing your sweaty skin. Your clit throbs. You don’t think you can hold on much longer. 
But just as you’re nearing the edge, Oberyn’s thumb traces the tight rim of your other hole. He slowly pushes in, only a bit, the stretch adds enough pressure for another moan to come tumbling out your lips, your upper body fully falling. Oberyn hums, his hips slowing into a sensual grind. “Does my sweet girl want me to fuck this hole next?” This is something that he teases you about more often than not. He’s never acted on it though. “So fucking tight.” 
He pushes his thumb till the first knuckle and it’s like electricity shooting down your spine. Your entire body jolts, the words leaving your throat before you even realize what you’re saying. 
“Yes,” you breathe. “Yes yes yes—please fuck me there—” 
Oberyn stops. 
So does your heart. 
Fuck fuck fuck. That was meant to be a secret. 
“What did you just say?” 
“Nothing!” you answer quickly and high-pitched. “I—I didn’t mean anything by it.” 
Oberyn dips until his lean chest is firmly pressed against the curve of your spine. His lips touch your ear, his breath warm and inviting. The hand that was teasing your hole slips to the side to cup your ass. He kneads the muscle tenderly. 
“Are you sure?” he hums. “Why would you hide this from me?”  
“I. . . wasn’t. . .” 
“Ah, so you admit it is something that you want.” 
You let out an airy chuckle, “I hate when you do that.” 
“Do what?” 
“Just trick me into admitting things.” 
“I just asked a question,” he says innocently. It’s a bit hard to focus on his words when he’s cock deep inside of you. “Now, tell me why this is the first time I’m hearing about this.” 
Oberyn drags his lips down to the base of your neck and kisses you, your body melting into the sheets instantly. You’re glad he can’t see your face right now. You don’t think you can admit this while those observant eyes are looking down at you. 
“I’ve never tried it before. And. . . I was nervous to ask about it,” you take a sharp inhale. “I did want to tell you. I just—You’re already so much better at this than I am, I didn’t want to look even more inexperienced.” 
Before you know it Obeyn has you by the shoulders, twisting your body enough so that you’re facing him instead of keeping your head buried in the pillows. You chew on the inside of your cheek. He looks serious. Did you say something wrong? 
“Better at what?” he asks even though he knows the answer. 
“At sex.” 
“Sex is not a competition, and for what it’s worth you are good at it. And I love being your first when it comes to intimacy. You have nothing to be ashamed of,” he starts moving again, the heavy drag of his cock between your legs making your eyes roll. “But, if you are still feeling anxious let me prove to you how much I love being your first—and last.” 
Your lips curl into a small smile, “Last?” 
His smile is sinister. Teeth showing as he dips to your neck, taking a slow, yet sharp, bite. A whimper rattles your throat. “Is it wrong for me to want to humor the idea that I’ll be fucking you somewhere no one has before and that no one else will ever touch you beside me?” Oberyn pulls out, your body immediately aching to be filled again. “Get on all fours.” 
You oblige eagerly. Your arms are shaking as you prop yourself up, the inside of your thighs slick. Oberyn reaches for the nightstand and pulls out the bottle of lube. When he disappears behind you again you expect the cool feel of jel, but instead, you receive his mouth—and tongue. 
“Oh fuck—” 
“Be still,” he growls, gripping your hips. “Let me feast.” 
He swirls his tongue around your asshole, hot saliva dripping right against it. You shudder as he pushes it through, teeth grazing the flesh gingerly. Oberyn parts your cheeks with both hands and pushes the wet muscle deeper. Pleasure rakes your body, your core throbbing with need. You’re close. Just a couple swipes of his tongue and you’re already there, ready to burst. 
He mouths against you and when he deems you wet enough, he slips a finger inside. Your body tenses around him, the sensation foreign but not unwanted. Oberyn’s one hand cups your sex, fingers starting to draw patterns around your throbbing clit while he thrusts the fingers in and out. Moan after moan rips from your throat. The stimulation against your clit loosens you further. He slips another finger. Both knuckle deep as he fucks you with them. 
“That’s it. You’re stunning like this. Beautiful.” 
You fist the sheets, hips sloppily grinding back to meet the fast movement of his fingers. “O–Oberyn please. . .” 
“Oh you think you’re ready?” he chuckles and for some reason, the sound urges a fresh gush of wetness to roll out of you. “Tell me how badly you want me to fuck this sweet ass and maybe. . .” he groans. “Maybe I’ll give you what you want.” 
Your breath catches in your throat, “Please fuck me with your big cock Oberyn—I need it—Need you—” 
He hums and something about the way he moves makes you think he’s not satisfied with your begging. And here you thought you’ve been doing a good job. He pulls away both hands and drags them up your back, cupping your shoulders. You’re in near tears when his cock spreads your folds and grazes against your clit. “You want me to fuck you here?” 
Oberyn’s a cruel, cruel man. 
“N—No,” you whimper, shaking your head. “Not. . . not there.” 
“Where then?” 
“My. . .” Damn it, your voice is trembling. “My ass.” 
You say it silently, barely above a whisper. He hisses through clenched teeth, pulls back his hips, and snaps forward, fucking your thighs instead of where you really need him. “Louder,” he commands. 
“Fuck me in the ass—” you practically shout. “Please please please fuck me in the ass—I want to feel you—Been wanting it for so long.” 
You sigh happily at the feeling of a generous amount of lube being poured down from the bottle and directly onto your hole. Oberyn pours some into his palm, jerking himself until he’s fully coated in lube. The bulbous head of his cock teases your hole, your back arches for him, urging him to go on. 
He fills you inch by glorious inch. The sounds he’s making behind you are downright sinful—your body reacts to his sweet moans, your name falling from his lips. You feel so full. Once again your upper body falls to the sheets, your poor arms too weak to support yourself any longer. Oberyn keeps your ass up in the air, still pushing his cock deeper. 
“So big,” you slur, your body feeling aflame. 
“Just a little more. You’re taking me so well, such a good girl.” 
Your body jerks as he buries himself a bit deeper, has he always been this thick? “Say that again. Tell me how good I am, please.” 
Oberyn blankets your shuddering body, holding himself still, he begins to whisper in your ear, “So good. You’re always my good girl, even when you do keep secrets from me. You’re the perfect glove for my cock. I am going to fuck you so good that your inside will be the shape of me.” 
Just as you get wetter and wetter at his words, Oberyn fills you to the brim. You choke around nothing, every nerve thrumming with pleasure. Your body squeezes him tight and when you finally loosen a bit, Oberyn groans. 
“Can I move?” 
“Please.” 
He squeezes your hips as he pulls out, the heavy press of his cock making you see stars. Then before you can gather yourself he’s pounding into you, stretching you to your limits. There’s a hum in your ears and vaguely you can hear him moaning your name. Your mouth floods with saliva, his teeth sinking into where your neck connects with your shoulder.  
Desperately you reach back and take a hold of his wrist. Your touch only spurs him on, hips deliciously moving in and out. The sound of skin slapping against skin becomes louder and louder. 
“Oh god,” you moan, your fingers tightening around his wrist. “I’m gonna come.”
“Can you come like this?” He asks genuinely. “With my cock in your ass?” 
You don’t think you can actually. Your close. So very close that you can taste your orgasm on your tongue, but you just need a bit more, just a little touch—
“Do not—“ Your hand stills, you weren’t even aware that you’d begun to move your arm to stroke your clit. “Tell me. Tell me why you want and I’ll give you fucking everything.”
“I—I need you to touch me.” 
Oberyn doesn’t make you say it twice. He’s stroking your clit with fast strokes, his hips in perfect rhythm with his thrusts. Hear licks you from the inside out and the pressure between your legs builds, builds and builds until you can’t take it anymore. 
It happens all at once, your body shatters into a million pieces as you shudder around him, his cock splitting you open over and over. Between your moans you can hear him groaning your name, telling you how good you are, how perfect. 
You feel the rush of wetness running down your thighs and Oberyn’s fingers that were so deftly circling your clit moves to your hip, squeezing the flesh. 
“That’s my sweet girl, coming so pretty with my cock in her ass—I’m going to come, fill you until you’re dripping—“ 
He doesn’t get a chance to finish his sentence. Your entire body clenches, hugging his cock tight. Oberyn comes with a shattered breath and shallow thrusts, he pushes forward, balls deep. Another orgasm washes over you, your body thrumming with pleasure.
“Fuck—“ he rasps, slowly easing himself out. A shiver crawls up your spine as come slips down between your cheeks and down your thighs. He kisses the skin between your shoulders. “You look so good like this. So full of come.” 
“Wish I could see,” you hum. 
“Next time I will bring a camera.” He collects himself on his fingers and slips them inside of you, a moan deserts your lips. “Or perhaps I should fuck you again.” 
There’s a beat of silence before he speaks again. 
“Do not ever hide anything from me again. Promise me.” 
“I promise.” 
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