#it can be summed up by this next tag

[stevebabey]

no one asked but this is the post that inspired this! thank u immensely for the luv <3 number 1 comment was wondering what steve’s bids were & from his pov, so without further ado...enjoy — part one here!

—

Begrudgingly, Eddie has to admit that Robin might be right.

It’s impossible not to be looking for the bids since he brought them up to her. Even though Eddie was fully expecting to tell Robin to suck it, maybe even wager what little money he had against this working out, Eddie can’t help but watch for them in every interaction. And fuck, she’s right.

They’re little, but they’re there.

The first one Eddie would’ve missed if he wasn’t looking for it. Actually, that’s a lie; Eddie does miss it, until Robin points it out, the nosy bitch. It’s minuscule and honestly, it just seems like Steve asking his opinion — which friends do all the time! It’s why Eddie brushes right over it.

“Okay, be honest,“ Steve had said, walking and talking as he entered the living room where Robin and Eddie were sprawled across the couches. They were both waiting on him, the three of them set on heading out to the drive-in to catch a film.

Eddie can’t fathom why Steve felt the need to change his outfit for it, but when he returns, he gets it. It’s not quite the usual polo Eddie had grown to like on Steve, this one hanging a little looser, the colour a bit darker than Steve’s usual choice, the sleeves a little shorter — almost midway to a muscle tee.

Steve’s fingers fiddle with the distressed collar of the shirt, smoothing invisible wrinkles and fussing over nothing. He swishes back his floppy hair with a flick of his head. “It’s a new shirt, I know it’s a little different - but what do we think?”

He says we but he’s looking at Eddie.

Eddie, who has taken to trying to reel in his gawp because what the fuck Steve? It’s like he’s well aware of what drives Eddie insane and has specifically leaned into it. Some evil goblin in Eddie’s brain whispers think how good he’d look in your shirt and he squashes it, giving a visible twitch to shut down that train of thought.

From the other couch, Robin clears her throat loudly and smiles sweetly at her best friend. “It looks great, Steve.”

It’s sincere and Steve’s mouth tugs up, nearly a smile but his gaze fast-tracks back to Eddie. Eddie nods in agreement, a bit sluggish from his distracting thoughts and god dammit, the extra exposed skin of Steve’s arms are so not helping. “Yeah, looks... looks good, man.”

Steve smiles, lips pressed together but his shoulders curl in just a bit, deflating just a tad. From where Steve can’t see her, Robin waves her hands wildly and catches Eddie’s attention. He watches as she gestures wildly and it takes a moment to realise what’s she mouthing — ‘A bid! That’s a bid, you idiot!’

Oh fuck, Eddie thinks. Cos it totally was; the question, the focus on Eddie. He doesn’t even think about the logistics of it, of the fact Robin was right, just jumps right into picking up the bid.

“You trying a new style?” Eddie asks and then thanks whatever god invented the whole fake-it-to-you-make-it schtick because he’s feeling so far from casual or confident. “Going metal on me, big boy?”

Eddie just manages to catch the grin that breaks across Steve’s face as he turns away, giving a scoff — it comes out too soft though, giving away his complete lack of annoyance. He pulls that usual Steve Harrington pose, hands sliding onto his hips, and screws his face into some melted smiley-grimace. “Shut up, Munson.”

Eddie grins and goads on the blush that’s beginning on Steve’s neck, a glorious tinged pink colour. “If this shirt is any indication, you’d pull it off just fine.”

Eddie watches the blush climb higher as Steve ignores the comment, his smile still giving him away. He grabs his coat and pats down his jeans — ridiculous tight acid wash jeans that Eddie hates he’s somehow become attracted to — ensuring he has his keys and wallet. Once assured, he looks up at his two friends again, brows raised, and says, “Ready to rock and roll?”

That comment alone has Eddie seriously reconsidering his type in men.

There’s only a brief moment to talk about it when Eddie and Robin cajole Steve into going and getting them both popcorn to get a moment alone. Steve had scoffed, face twitching in the way it did whenever he tried to hold back a bitchy comment, but he still stomped off in the direction of the snack stand.

The moment he’s out of earshot, both voices explode in the back of Eddie’s van.

“What did I say—”

“Jesus H Christ, you were right—”

“Literally how many times do I have—”

“Oh my god, you were right—”

“ —before you realise I’m always—”

“Robin.” He cuts her off, hands landing on her shoulders. Robin eyes them warily, lips still parted from how her rant had been cut off. “Robin, I’m gonna kill you.”

“What?” Robin’s nose scrunches up. “What the hell are you—”

“Oh Christ, I can’t believe- how long have you noticed those bids?” Eddie’s aware he sounds a bit estranged, eyes probably wide and it doesn’t help when he softly shakes Robin back and forth. She lets herself be shaken, hair flying back in forth. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me! You are such a bad gay friend!”

Robin smacks his hands off her shoulders with a frown, her freckly face perturbed at Eddie’s outburst. “Dude, it’s not my fault! May I remind you that until very very recently you were seeing someone else? What difference would it have made?”

Eddie waves his hand, disregarding the point with a shake of his head. His unkempt curls cover his face and Eddie sweeps them back in one motion, “What difference would it have made? Oh my, Jesus—“

Whatever long-winded sentence Eddie was about to spit out is lost by the sound of Steve’s approaching footsteps, effectively shutting both of them up.

Eddie flings himself to the other side of the van, putting an unusual amount of distance between Robin and him like they were being caught doing something they shouldn’t.

Robin frowns at him and gestures wildly with her hands in a way that means what the fuck man? Eddie gestures back, though he’s not entirely sure what his fast hand motions are supposed to mean when Steve rounds the door.

He’s got two buckets of popcorn tucked under each arm and Eddie quickly crosses his arms, tucking his hands into his armpits like his stupid hand motions will somehow give him away. 

Steve looks up, stopping just a way from the edge of the van, and looks at the pair of them. His eyes track from Robin still sitting on one of the old cushions and looking two seconds from burying her face in her hands, across to Eddie. He huffs a laugh and kneels on the edge of the van.

“I know he’s gross Robin,” He begins, tone light, as he holds out one of the buckets for Robin to take. “But c’mon, is the distance really necessary?”

Robin snickers as Eddie makes an appalled noise, both of which make Steve smirk. He holds out the other for Eddie to take and Eddie snatches it, glaring at him over the buttery rim for his comment. Then takes a handful and shovels it in because he can’t think of a witty comment to retaliate. Steve crawls into the van and plops himself between them with a content sigh.

“See? Gross.” He teases, shoving his hand into Eddie’s popcorn bucket to grab a handful. Eddie scowls and chews a little faster when the flavour on his tongue seems to register in his brain.

His eyes stare at the popcorn bucket as he chews, then swallows — up the front of the van, the radio that’s tuned into the correct frequency begins playing the opening credits song as the screen changes. Silence sweeps across the drive-in but despite the sudden hush, Eddie has no qualms about breaking it.

“Sweet n’ salty flavour?” He asks Steve, only half attempting a whisper. Robin shushes him instantly, her focus already on the movie that’s beginning. Steve smiles, looking a bit sheepish beneath the glow of the drive-in screen, but he nods.

“I know you like it.” He whispers with a small shrug of his shoulders. Like it wasn’t a big deal. Fuck, Eddie thinks again and hastily feeds himself another handful of popcorn before he says anything majorly stupid in response to that, like: Oh, amazing- have you noticed the big fat crush I have on you as well?

He doesn’t even need to look at Robin to know she’s smiling, smug as ever.

—

Steve, God bless his oblivious little heart, doesn’t even realise he’s doing it.

Steve likes Eddie. Eddie is— god, Eddie is different but he’s good.

He’s this strange amalgamation of traits that Steve can’t comprehend how they fit together in one body or how Eddie manages to pull it all off completely charmingly.

He’s loud, he says rude things, he’s fucking dorky, and far too sweet on the kids — he likes to tease Steve, and yet somehow, when Eddie calls him ‘pretty boy’, Steve knows he’s not actually making fun of him.

Steve likes Eddie, likes his boyishly endearing charm, likes his touchiness towards Steve that no other boy his age is like, likes his messy curls and his ‘holier than thou’ attitude about metal music even though Steve doesn’t get it, like at all. And fuck, Steve really wants Eddie to like him.

It reminds him faintly of when he first started working alongside Robin at Scoops. That thought tickles in the back of his mind, something along the lines of how he had wanted Robin to like him for other reasons, but he doesn’t delve into it.

To Steve, it’s simple: he just wants Eddie to like him.

After the night at the drive-in, between Eddie acting strangely skittish and Robin giving more amused snorts than usual, Steve knows something is up.

He knows they must have discussed something when they sent him on popcorn duty, the bastards. He tries his best to not feel left out; god knows Robin and he have more than a dozen secrets they’ve sworn not to tell anyone but each other.

Besides, Steve trusts Robin to come and tell him if he really needs to know, even if it does worry him a bit. He bites down his anxious thoughts, even trying for a moment to see if there’s a pattern he’s been missing.

That train of thought gets derailed when Steve recalls instead Eddie’s delightful reaction to his new shirt — that Steve definitely hadn’t bought for that specific reason.

Even though Robin had given him that look when he’d first shown it to her — her bright eyes had narrowed, her smile turning a little more coy, and Steve had felt his ears get a little hotter. She hadn’t said anything though, just suggested that he should wear it tomorrow night when they were going out with Eddie.

God, he was glad she suggested it.

Rewinding over Eddie’s parted lips, the way his brown eyes had drank in the details as they trailed up his body and lingered on his arms— Steve had the sudden thought to flex the muscle, just to elicit some reaction, but it had gone out the window at Eddie’s original dismal reaction.

‘Yeah, looks... looks good, man’. Said all aloof, like he hadn’t really thought it. It was like bursting a balloon hidden behind Steve’s ribs, one he wasn’t even aware was there until it was deflating pathetically, making his shoulders sag.

Then— ‘You trying a new style? Going metal on me, big boy?’ And dammit, it’s like Eddie had clocked exactly what calling him ‘big boy’ had done the first time in the Winnebago.

Eddie had then grinned, done another once over of the new shirt, even as Steve pretended to search for his keys and wallet while saying something snarky to try to cover up the heat crawling up his neck. Yet, Steve found himself smiling too because, fuck yes, Eddie liked it too.

But, apparently, whatever Eddie and Robin had discussed wasn’t considered important enough because Robin never brought it up.

The thought and worry about it melt away in Steve’s mind until the memory of that night is about Eddie’s compliment, about his cat-like grin over the popcorn bucket, and how he had leaned over to whisper every bad joke into Steve’s ear all through the movie.

Some of them had been down-right filthy jokes which Eddie only seemed to enjoy more when Steve screwed his face up and nudged Eddie in the ribs, yet unable to hide his smile.

After the third vulgar joke and subsequent nudge, Steve had chided ‘dude’ with a poorly hidden grin. Eddie, smile all cheeky, had nudged him back with a ‘dude’ of his own.

Which, of course, ensued a nudge competition til Robin had given a shush that librarians all over the world would be jealous of. But Steve didn’t even care because he and Eddie were arm to arm, pressed close together and Eddie…didn’t move. Stayed close, like he wanted the closeness the same way Steve did.

Steve only remembers the strange drive-in moment when Robin brings it up finally, on one interesting Saturday night.

It’s not the usual routine; it’s not very often that the whole group gets together to share drinks and get rowdy.

But it was for Robin’s birthday and she’d been persuasive enough to get even the introverts, like Jonathan, to come along. Though, she was aware he’d probably spend the night on a pool lounger, stoned to high heaven. Whatever floats your boat, she’d said, happy for the company in any form.

There’s enough of them there that it almost resembles some sort of party— and makes Steve try not to think about the last small party he threw here. He can tell Nancy notices it too, eyeing the pool a bit too long in a way he’s very familiar with, then taking a swig of beer.

So, Steve heckles them inside — doing a fantastic mothering impression as he waves the group indoors with a promise of pizza, and that has both Jonathan and Argyle perking up and beginning a fast discussion on the best pizza toppings.

Eddie makes a fuss, because of course he does, and moans terribly when Steve tries to roll him off the pool lounger he’s on. He’s had a bit of a joint and some beer, and Steve’s learned that he gets adorably stubborn after some substances.

“Stevie, this is mean,” he had pouted, gripping the edges of the lounger and staring up at Steve with those big brown eyes. “You telling me I did all that bonding with you for nothing? Can’t even lounge by the pool! I’ve got a couch at homeeeee.”

Steve had sent him an amused look of disbelief, hands on his hips after his first round of flicks against Eddie’s arm were apparently fruitless to get him to move. “Really? Didn’t peg you for a gold-digger, Eds.”

Eddie had snorted at that, one hand coming to slap over his mouth. Steve couldn’t quite hear what he had said but the words pegging and anytime slipped through and Steve thinks he could get the gist of that.

“Oh for Christ’s sake,” Steve muttered, feeling the tips of his ears turn warm. He didn’t know how Eddie could be such a menace— or why he enjoyed it so much when he was. Steve waved a hand in the direction of the doors, ignoring Eddie’s delighted snickering. “If you go inside now, you can be on music, alright?”

And that had finally got them all indoors, Eddie whooping and skedaddling through the doors in an instant, with a call of ‘no take backsies!’ echoing behind him.

Inside was much cozier, the whole group a little more connected when squished up on the couches together. Eddie had taken Steve’s word and was jamming a cassette into one of the speakers when Steve made it back inside after scouting around the pool for leftover cans and butts to throw out.

He’s just been thinking about what playful jab he could make at Eddie’s music, like Eddie always did to him when Robin hollered at him from the kitchen.

“Steve!” She’d yelled excitedly and he come to find her quick, brows raised as he entered the kitchen. She was grinning, already a bit jumpy as she got when she had a bit of liquor — but apparently not enough because when Steve saw what she’d called him in for, she’d announced, “Tequila shots!”

Which lead to now. A hazy combination of beer, tequila, and a bit of weed, and Steve is feeling good. Robin had managed to hijack the music not too long ago, with a hiccup of ‘it’s my birthday’ that had Eddie surrendering with a pout.

She’d since put on a bit of everything: some Blondie for Nance, Talking Heads for Jonathan, and some Bowie, just so she and Steve could dance along to ‘Magic Dance’ and she could do all the silly little goblin voices that made them both cackle.

Steve realised at some point that Robin was playing their mixtape, the one she’d made for driving in the morning, and nearly tripped stumbling over to her in his excitement. He grabbed her shoulders, not too hard, and squeezed.

“Is it- is this our mixtape?” Steve asked, words slurring only a bit. Robin gleamed, hair bouncing with her excited nod.

“Yes!” She was already dancing, even though the tape was between songs — because she knew what song was coming. “It’s Springsteen time, Steve!”

Right as the drums to Born to Run filtered out the speaker.

And oh, Steve loves Robin so much. He loves having a best friend that knows his favourite song and gets jittery and excited because she knows it’s about to play— that she put it on this mix for him.

“You’re my best friend!” Steve says, the words bursting out like he can’t control them. He doesn’t even feel embarrassed, just happy, just drunk, and overwhelming happy to be able to have this.

And even though Robin knows this, she still beams, feet dancing along and just begins to sing along with the song, “In the days, we sweat it out on the streets of a runaway American dream…”

It’s a brazen drunken performance from the both of them. Steve’s chest is heaving after just one chorus that he’s pretty sure he put his whole soul into and he’s so fucking happy —and it feels like pure instinct to seek out Eddie, his eyes scouring the room for him.

Eddie’s leaned up against the wall, hiding his smile behind a can and Steve doesn’t think twice about it— doesn’t think about why he’s so drawn to Eddie, why he wants to include him in this happiness — just extends his hand out and grins.

Eddie sees the bid coming this time.

Part Three.

— 

yes i saw all ur lovely tags and MAYBE cried about it. but thats none of ur business.

@orangeandthefairroadkill @swimmingbirdrunningrock @sadcanadianwinter @phantypurple @omg-elledubs-things @henderdads @farfaras @mixsethaddams @prismandblue @kerlypride @bushbees @legitcookie @temporalcoffin @callmesirkay @beautifully-useless @millyditty @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @ninjapirateunicorns @darkwitchoferie @vi-the-best-you-can @psychosnowfox @desert-fern @scarletzgo @cr0w-culture @softpink-candlelight @livingforfictionalcharacters @makewavesandwar @kozuuji @rhapsodyinalto @eddiethesexy @cassaloopa @lightwoodbanethings @qu33rcommunist @moonlitkilljoy @starkdusk @theysherobinbuckley @sanguineterrain @loganwright @sillysparrow @hotcocoaharrington @eddie-munson-is-my-wife @she-is-tim @steddiehearts @sideblogofthcentury @sidebarre @corrodedcoughin @stevieclaus

#OBLIVIOUS STEVE IS MY FAVOURITE!!!! #idiots in love #they're so important to me ur honour #on god am i gonna make them KISS #but steve's gotta figure it out first lol #ruby writes steddie #steddie #steddie ficlet #i think i can call it a fic now lol each part is 3k+ i think #steddie fic #IF U WANTED TO BE TAGGED AND I DIDNT IM SORRY #lest i come off terribly egotistical i need direct instructions to tag lmao #even then i tagged sum people that just said 'can't wait for part 2!' which? isn't? #I DUNNO #i went off vibes someone said they were vibrating so i was like get over here the next part is here #one of these tags is just a steddie blog i love.... and they reblogged part 1 #corrodedcoughin <3 i love u hehe #the stobin bestie love SHINES in this #i love them so much they are BEST FRIENDS!!! #if u have any ideas... i do love reading the tags and seeing what people want to see next ! im fuckin making it up as i go lol

[thebrandonross]

Yet to not marry him would be like murdering herself, for if she was not with Libo she could not think of who she would be then.

“How clever of me. I have found such a pathway into hell that I can never get back out.”

She pressed her face against Libo’s shoulder, and her tears skittered across his chest.

- Speaker for the Dead, Chapter 3

Orson Scott Card

#speaker for the dead #enderverse #enders game #book quotes #orson scott card #osc #quotes #I really like the path to hell part of this quote #it’s why I pulled it tbh #trm personal #had to do with an intrusive thought I had #such a pathway into hell that I can never get back out #that about sums it up #I said I would stop tagging stuff #maybe next time #maybe this time #I guess I won’t do it #maybe we’re both just monsters

[thefunniestguy]

was kind of stuck between the lines “time is an illusion that helps things make sense” and “everything stays, but it still changes” soooo , take both , i guess </3!!

#unsure what to add other than those both sum up my emotions here lately fairly nicely #things should improve soon . i hope they do . since i'd like to think the worst of it is over (aside from emotions that linger ??) #(then again i've felt next to nothing about these things lately . i halfway hope i dont feel anything since idk how i can handle it LOL /lh) #BUT a comfort youtuber uploaded a video on a big interest of mine as i started drawing this SO !!!!!! maybe thats a good sign !!!! #or at least it was a good sign for the day !! a pleasant little thing to have in the background as i drew this :D!! #(well uh . the topic isnt pleasant BUT yk!!!!) #vent art #my art #digital art #GOSH IDK HOW TO TAG THESEEEE UEUE .. #artists on tumblr #AND I MADE MYSELF A LOT TALLER THAN I AM ...... #in reality that little bookshelf is around my bellybutton ... ig perspective maybe but the perspective really uh . isn't great in this LOL

[barleyo]

Daddy's Girl.

Step Dad! Leon Kennedy X F! Reader (smut)

A/N: Don't like? Don't read! Either way, READ THE TAGS. I'm starting to get pretty weird on this blog, so expect more stuff like this! A girl has to feed her fetishes, so feel free to tag along with me and enjoy what my sick little mind thinks up. Thanks for reading!

Tags: stepcest, step-dad/step-daughter relationship, cream pie, daddy issues, use of "baby girl" and "daddy's girl," daddy kink, oral sex (f receiving), swearing, infidelity, p in v, cream pie, unprotected sex, LARGE AGE GAP (legal), 2nd person POV

Word count: 2.1k

As far as your mother was concerned, your father was worth less than the sum of his parts. He was fleeting idea, a mere concept in both of your lives ever since you could remember. Sure, you remembered a few odd Christmases with a surplus of gifts, all tagged "from Daddy," and a few daddy-daughter dates here and there, but that wasn't enough to make up for his true absence. 

It wasn't a surprise when your mom eventually left him, scooping you up with her. Just you and her, and the rare postcard that your sperm-donor decided to ship off once a year or so. It was good enough then when it was just you two finding your way in the world, but it went downhill when your mom found a new boy toy. 

Leon.

He wasn't a bad guy, by any means. Wasn't pushy, didn't make you call him "dad" or try to impose his will onto you, but his presence made the absence of your real father that much more obvious. You tried to ignore him for the most part, letting your mom have her little relationship with him to tide her over. 

But then they got married. Leon became a more permanent fixture. That was no bueno. 

You toughened it out, being cordial with him until you finally hit that mark of independence: sweet, sweet 18! The big one-eight, your ticket to freedom! 

Everything was planned out for your big day. Mom and Leon made a cake, presents were given, and all birthday wishes granted, except for one. What you really wanted, was for your dad to show up for just this one day, just this once, to have him and not just his money. 

You could never get that lucky, though, and that thought was cemented in your head when you found yourself waiting for him outside of your house. The driveway was empty, not even your mom's car was out there, she still had to head off to work. The world couldn't pause for a birthday girl, it seemed.

Stepping back inside to the house, you slammed the door behind you, practically throwing yourself onto the leather couch in the living room. The tears started faster than you could contain them, and quite honestly, you didn't want to contain them. It was your party, damn it, and you would cry if you wanted to!

"You okay, kid? I heard the door-"

Fuck. Him.

Leon's heavy footsteps made their way down the stairs, leading to his place in front of you. "(Y/N), are you crying?"

You sucked back a breath of air, steadying yourself as much as you could before speaking. 

"No, 'm not, just-- go, just leave me alone." You let your face drop into your hands, staining your sleeves with tears.

Leon, being just the right amount of pushy, took a steps next to you a placed his hand on your shoulder. "Can we talk about it? I mean, I probably know what it is, but we could- you could say whatever you need to say." His face cringed a bit at his own words, feeling like he was already fucking this up. "No judgement."

You kept your face covered but obliged, knowing that talking about it, even with Leon, would make you feel a little better.

"My dad isn't here. He's been promising for weeks that he'd show, but he isn't here."

"Oh."

Your step-dad bit his lip trying to figure out how to make you feel better. He knew you weren't exactly fond of him, but he felt a twinge of responsibility.

"Fuck 'em," Leon finally decided on. "He's a liar and you don't need him. So, fuck 'em. Why would you want a deadbeat to bring you down on your special day?" 

"Because, he's my dad," you said, like it was the most obvious thing. He was right, of course, but the absence still hurt you.

"No dad would stand up a sweet girl like you on her birthday. You only turn 18 once. A real dad wouldn't miss a birthday this monumental for anything. What's he worth, if he can't keep to his word?"

"I guess nothing." You sat up straighter, trying to make yourself calm down. "D'ya think it's, like, my fault? Why doesn't he want to see me?"

He suddenly got really serious, making his grip on your shoulder firm.

"Not at all. You are a wonderful girl. Your mom thinks so, and so do I. You are brilliantly smart, kind, responsible, sweet, gorgeous-- you're perfect and if that scumbag can't see that, then he's beyond saving." 

He loosened his grip, letting his hand fall down to your lap, a bit close to the crotch of your jeans. You didn't look down, trying to convince yourself it was an accident, but he didn't move his hand either.

His other hand came up to your face, holding your cheek and to your own surprise, you leaned into his hand. His big, calloused, confronting hand.

Fuck him.

Something snapped in you when he leaned in for a kiss. God, it was wrong, so wrong, but you were so conflicted. Is this what a father's love really felt like? Hell if you knew, this was close enough in your book.

"Hmph-! Leon..." You pulled away from the kiss, wiping at your mouth roughly to get rid of the salvia strings connecting the both of you. "This is wrong, this isn't okay, my mom-"

"Is not here." 

He placed another kiss on your lips, this one chaste and sweet, so unlike the passionate one you shared before. 

"Just you and me. I know your dad isn't here, but I am. Let me make up for him, baby." His whispers pricked goosebumps over your body, lighting a fire deep in you. "Let daddy love you. Can I show you?"

His big hand looked nearly comical resting against the small button of your jeans, pawing desperately at them. So, so, so wrong. So fucked up, so not okay, so....

"Yes," you said breathily. "Okay, I-I want you to show me. Just be careful please, 'cause.." you trailed off a bit, feeling the pop of your pants opening. 

Leon yanked them down, tossing them away quickly. "Fuck, that's good," he said, pressing his tongue flatly on your mound through your panties. 

The fabric slowly grew a wet patch that clung to you, getting sticky. He placed a soft kiss on your clothed clit, then rested his head on your soft thigh.

"Anybody ever touch you here?" he asked, running a finger over your pussy. 

You softly shook your head, mumbling out a 'no.'

"Mm, more for daddy, yeah? Gonna make you feel so good," he said, slipping your panties to the slide. His mouth made quick work, tongue already gliding up and down on your clit. 

Your face was already twisting up in pleasure, eyebrows knitting together tightly.

"That's cute," he blew cool air over your cunt, keeping his eyes on your face. "You like it? My mouth all over you like this?"

"Mhm, please- don't stop. I wanna feel it again." 

You reached your hand out to hold his head, wanting to push it down before bringing your hand back nervously.

"That's right, push my head down if you want. 'M here to make you feel good, so you use me. Just a wet mouth for you today, sweet girl."

You nodded eagerly, running your hands through his blond hair and taking taking firm purchase of a section of it. Your hands greedily pushed his face into your cunt. The feeling of his nose rubbing against your clit while his tongue dug into your tight hole made you feel fuzzy inside.

Leon was so vulgar with his noises; he almost enjoyed it more than you were. Slurp after slurp came from his mouth, accompanied by a moan or two while he tried to get himself off by palming himself through his pants. 

The sight of him was just as good as the feeling of him. You had never been taken care of so thoroughly. Leon was opening a whole new world to you, a world where you could be selfish and take, because your daddy would provide, no questions asked.

"Lemme try somethin', yeah, baby?"

He shook your hand off and spat directly on your clit, spreading the fat glob with his fingers. Tight, fast circles were traced over your bud, back and forth. It felt like hypnosis, the way he reeled your body in closer to an orgasm. 

"Daddy, please, 'm gonna cum," you said, face flushing of all color. "Your mouth, want your mouth," you shot out quickly, already obsessed with the feeling of his hot mouth tonguing you down.

He obliged, of course. How could he turn his princess down? Leon's lips again wrapped around your clit, sucking on the bud like it gave him life. 

You came soon after. You seized and convulsed and the feeling of his eyes taking you in made the waves of pleasure crash down that much harder over your body. 

"If he knew what a sweet fucking pussy you had," Leon said, licking a final stripe over it, "he'd never wanna leave."

"Wha--?"

"I said," Leon pulled away from your pussy, lifting his head to your ear, "that even your dad would wanna be tongue deep in your sweet, tight cunt. But it's all mine, isn't it?"

The sound of his belt unbuckling made you wetter, if that was possible, but it also sent a sense of realization through you.

You had your pussy in your step dad's mouth. And you liked it. And now, you would let him fuck you. And you would love it. 

"I know you're a virgin, but fuck, baby, you're so tight." His voice was grumbly and strained while he tried to push into you. "Maybe I need to eat you up a little more," he teased.

"No, I need you inside, wanna feel it now." You let yourself go completely. Here you were, whining like a brat while Leon's fat cock stretched you. The pain with sharp, but immediately worth it. He fit inside perfectly, easily hitting your sensitive spots with a few thrusts.

He hissed, feeling you clamp down on his length. "Shh, come on, gotta get used to it baby. Don't want me to cum too quick, do you?"

"Yes, I do," you whined, desperate to know for certain that you were making him feel good too. 

Leon's laugh softly rang in your ears. "No, I wanna make it worth your time. Wish I could take you all night long," he muttered, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips. 

He swallowed all of your moans, slipping his tongue into your mouth while he rocked into you. He tried to find a rhythm, but he was too lost in pleasure to be neat about it. 

He'd fuck you nice and orderly another day, but for now? He just wanted to feel you gush around him, and feel your cunt get sloppy while he took you.

Your breathless moans caught his attention. He found the angle that made you get oldest and stuck with it, lifting your hips up with his hands so he could piston into your g-spot.

"Oh my god, right there! That feels-- oh my god."

"I know, baby," he said, thumbs digging into your hipbones. "Feels good f'me too. You're so good for daddy."

Your heart, and cunt, pounded the more he spoke. You were close and you knew it, you just needed him to keep talking you through it. "I am?"

"Yes, baby, you're perfect. Daddy's perfect little princess, taking my cock so good." His cock twitched, so he clenched his jaw, refusing to cum before you did. "You know what good girls get to do?"

"Hmph?" Your face was red and hot, mouth hanging open while he continued to fuck into your spongey walls.

"They cum hard on daddy's cock. Can you do that for me? Cum all on me?" He traced his hand over your cheek, letting his thumb land on your bottom lip while he egged you on.

Your body had never reacted faster, immediately creaming on his length. Your hole milked him, each contraction gripping his length and sucking the cum right out of him. 

Leon let a shaky breath out before pulling out of you, scooping the mixture of your cum in his fingers. He rubbed it between two fingers for a moment and popped it into his mouth, groaning at the taste.

You came down from your own high and looked over at him, feeling guilt pull at your chest.

"Leon."

"Hm?"

"What about mom? She's gonna freak if she ever finds out. Did we fuck up? What's gonna--"

"Hey," he said, shushing you with his finger over your lips. "She's not gonna find out and she doesn't need to know. I might be married to her, and I get why you're stressed, but what we have is different."

He pulled his finger off of your mouth and pressed a kiss to your forehead cheekily. "You're daddy's girl. That makes you special."

#barleyxnighteye #smutfic #x reader #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy #resident evil x reader #smut #tw: stepcest #tw stepcest #stepcest cw #dead dove do not eat #Stepdad! Leon Kennedy

[cat-toess]

🂡🂡 LOVE SICK 🂡🂡

Summary ✄: In which, Lyney is unbelievably, heads over heels with you.

Tags ✄: fluff, strangers to lovers (soon hehe), mid-length (sort of) one-sided pinning (for now...) gn!reader (intended, I sincerely apologize if not, please message me if you find any mistakes in terms of this topic! I will do my best to improve my writing :D)

Notes ✄: Lyney come home, please. I beg of u. come home at 15 pity (on my knees sobbing and crying rocks) pspspspspspspsps

P.S: I will be revising this even after this has been published, so if you find any grammatical errors then it might be fixed the next time you check <3 might even add paragraphs- so if you want, make sure to check in regularly!

Ft Lynette, being the best wing woman in the history of teyvat.

PART 2 ✄: Lovesick pt.2

Lynette was always supporting Lyney. Whether it was behind the scene or in front of the audience of their spectacular magic shows. Always wanting the best for her brother, silently looking out for him (although she may not show it directly on her face).

But there were some situations where she could not back up her dear brother. 

Said ‘situation’ being her brother's ridiculous one-sided crush on you, a stranger turned friend that Lynette had met while shopping for some new tea brews. You, a fellow tea enthusiast, passing by recommended her some of your favorites. Which ended in a lengthy conversation between you and her about the teas of the world. 

Now this wasn’t the usual silly crush Lyney would have that only lasted (at best) 1 week. No he was horrendously down bad. Even Lynette, who had no experience in the romance department mind you, could notice her brother's admiration to you immediately. Hell she could probably spot his stupid heart eyes all the way from Celestia. 

It was only a matter of time until the entirety of Fontaine and their grandmothers and children knew of Lyney’s infatuation with you. 

This led her to her current predicament. 

“Lynette please, do your lovely, wonderful and majestic brother one favor! Introduce me to your ethereal friend from earlier!”  Her brother dramatically whined. Clinging to his sister's leg like it was his lifeline. 

“I would if you weren’t being such a creep about them, you’ll scare them away if you meet them in such a state.” Lynette grumbled. 

Even Freminet, who usually kept to himself started to feel bad for Lyney. 

“Lynette, it wouldn’t hurt to introduce Lyney to Y/N, would it?” He asked. Looking down at Lyney who was close to tears.

“Thank you Freminet! See Freminet sides with me!”  Lyney exclaims, gesturing to Freminet, who is quietly sitting in a chair minding his own business. 

“Fine, I’m meeting them today at Café Lucerene. I’ll introduce you to them there, okay Lyney?” Lynette sighed in annoyance (though she was a little happy since she’s never seen her brother so mesmerized with someone.) As soon as she says those words, his face lights up almost immediately, the signs of sadness are long gone from his face. Lyney jumps up to Lynette to go in for a hug. A hug that she swiftly dodges with a sour expression.

“I truly owe you my beloved sister! But before that mind helping me pick out a few strategies to greet Y/N? I can’t fumble my charming first appearance with my future lover, can I?” Lyney giggles, like a young school girl in love Lynette thinks. 

“Fine…” Lynette murmurs. 

——

By preparing, Lynette thought her brother would only ask her opinion on how to greet you or what to compliment about you first.

She didn’t mean to agree helping out her brother immaculately plan a custom-made show for you. 

“Lynette! Which bird should I pull out of my hat? The classic magician favorite, the pigeon? Or the epitome of love, the dove? Or maybe my dearest may prefer one of those weird exotic birds from Sumeru? What were they called again?” Lyney pondered for a second before Lynette interrupted his thinking. 

“You mean the dusk bird?” Lynette quips. 

“Yes that one! Or maybe something bigger? Like a sumpter beast? Or even better a Phantasm-“ 

“Lyney! You are not summoning dangerous beasts through your hat, also what if they attack Y/N?” Lynette says as she rubs her head. Maybe Lyney's stupidity was finally starting to rub on to her.

“Hmm, you have a point a suppose, however would I marry them if they were buried 6 ft below me.” Lyney dramatically exclaims placing his hand on his forehead. 

Lynette sometimes worries about her brother these days, ever since he met you, he keeps feeding himself delusions that you two were meant to be. He even had a whole life plan for the two of you, he decided that your first child should be named Lyney/Lynette jr (depending on if they were a boy or girl, her brother had said) .

“Wait a moment… Lynette I have the most spectacular idea, listen closely.” Lyney blurted out, an imaginary light bulb appearing on his head.

—— 

Now here she was, hiding at a nearby table at the Café she and you were supposed to meet. Originally you two would meet here to exchange tea brews you found over the week and have a brief talk about them. But this time it was different. 

The first part of the sibling's elaborate plan was to tell you that Lynette was sick so her brother Lyney came to pick up the tea instead. 

So here Lyney is standing near the table, patiently waiting for (his soon-to-be) love of his life to arrive. As if on cue you arrive and Lyney is already enchanted with your appearance. Ogling at you like a hopless person in love. Lynette had never cringed so hard in her life.

Lynette has to stop the insane urge to groan at her brother's antics. 

“Hi Lynette, the green tea this time is- Oh? You’re not Lynette? “ You say in confusion, staring at the young man in front of you. You had seen him before on posters and the front page of The Steambird and all that, so you were surprised at the least to see a famous face instead of Lynette (who was also famous, but that aside) 

“Greetings, exquisite friend of my sister.” Lyney bows, but as he tips his hat a swarm of doves fly out of his hat. “I am Lyney, Lynette’s brother.” He says as he magically makes a bouquet of rainbow roses appear in his hand, and gives them to you. 

Who knew Lynette's brother was such a charmer. 

“Oh hello, nice to meet you Lyney. I’m Y/N” You say politely flashing him a smile (one which made his stomach do flips) 

“No need to introduce yourself, I’ve heard so much about you from my sister.” He says, revealing a charming smirk of his own.

“ I see, if I may ask where is Lynette today?” you ask out of curiosity, looking around searching for your fellow tea lover. (sorry if you don't like tea)

“Ah, sadly my darling sister is sick today, so I have come instead of her to pick up the tea. I accepted the offer as soon as she mentioned it. Who would want to miss the opportunity to meet a person as beautiful as yourself.” He comments, gently holding your hand as he brings it up to his mouth to kiss the front of your hand.

Lynette was praying to Celestia and all the beings above that her brother would choke on his own spit.

“Why, thank you.” You say, not expecting to be drowned in compliments by this stranger. Your demeanor goes from calm to slightly flustered in a matter of minutes. (I mean who wouldn't with Lyney around, honestly)

Lynette internally wonders what could you ever possibly see in that obnoxious brother of hers? 

For a while you two engage in a friendly conversation about simple things like the weather and so on. Soon enough you two get more comfortable as Lyney starts to show you a variety of magic tricks.

"No way you're actually getting my card-"

"Is this your card?"

"You weren't joking-"

Lynette sighs as she starts preparing for phase 2. 

The second part of their scheme was to get Lynette to conjure a strong gust of wind to knock you off your feet so that Lyney could catch you and scoop you up. Like in those popular plays. 

This much should be enough. Lynette thinks to herself as she summons a gust of wind headed straight to your direction. Aimed at you of course. 

But what is this? The wind blows a little off track and hits Lyney instead. 

The next few seconds were like they were in slow motion, Lyney has a surprised expression on his face as he plummeted down to the floor. Lynette is laughing at her brother. Holding her stomach and rolling on the floor (an unusual sight for the people watching the scene unfold, only used to the cool and composed Lynette.)

That is until you grab Lyney into your arms last second and suspend him a few centimeters above the ground.

Would you look at this? Lynette thinks. 

The plan had completely backfired. 

Oh well, her brother would be delighted with the results either way. 

“Are you okay Lyney?” You ask concern lacing your voice. 

Lyney thinks his name never sounded prettier than when it came from your lips, with your voice. 

“Yeah I am, sorry about that.” The usually flirty and confident magician is nowhere to be found. His cheeks were tinted with a rosy hue of pink as his mind went in spirals. 

“No problem, it was nothing.” 

An awkward yet (sort of) romantic silence envelopes both of you. The two you staring at each other's eyes and shyly glancing at each other for a few minutes. 

Lynette was a hair away from barfing up all of her breakfast and possibly her internal organs. 

You were the first to snap out of the trance like state.

“Well, I have to go soon… I’ll see you later I guess?” You ask, waving your farewells to the blonde. Slowly heading back home.

“Yeah, see you later.”  Lyney waves back, a smile adorning his gorgeous facial features. 

Lynette pops out of her hiding spot, and takes a metal note of her brothers' expression. 

“You’re down bad, aren’t you?” 

“Lynette!” 

@cat-toess 2023 please do not plagiarize or copy on other sites <3 Reblogs are appreciated, but please give credit :D if you have feedback please refrain from being offensive <3

The amount of horrible grammatical errors I found in this is crazy- I sincerely apologize 🥲

Some of my other posts with Lyney...

❁ Lyney Hcs

#lyney #lynette #lynette best wing woman fr fr #lyney x reader #genshin x reader #Genshin #genshin impact #x reader #gn! reader #cat-toess writes!

[charmercharm3r]

Make Love, Not Porn

Heat Signature

HHJ

Masterlist, Story Masterlist

18+ content — minors, do not interact

wc: 5.9k

Synopsis: You crave a life of normalcy, he craves you. And he'd do anything to keep you, even if you're for the world to see

warnings: smut, explicit sexual content, barista!hyunjin x camgirl!reader, masturbation (m, f), teasing, cum eating, (slight) orgasm denial, (also -ish) voyeurism, (not a warning but) open conversations about sex, he’s a little shit but also just a fanboy

Past Broadcasts : Play Time!

Live : Heat Signature

Next Scheduled Broadcast : Puppeteer

☆ﾟ

He waited for you.

He waited and waited and waited, for days until he’d finally given up hope that you were going to show face again.

Hyunjin wasn’t even sure you were from the area. For all he knew, you lived a few hours plane ride away. There was no way for him to know.

He’d thought about you every day since, watched every stream and used most of his tips and paycheck to tip you so that you’d remember who he was. It worked, whenever the dinging noise from other patrons tipping died down, there was a moment where he’d rapid fire click the button and you’d know, it was him.

The day after seeing you in person, Hyunjin barely had the mind to put your image down onto paper to immortalize. His minor hobby in doodling came in handy when there was downtime during his shift at the coffee shop. There was an unlimited supply of blank coffee cup sleeves and markers, enough room for his artistic freedom to run wild with images of you and your pretty hands, heavenly voice that he’s been encapsulated with ever since.

Hyunjin kept his doodles in his apron pocket with him at all times. If anyone were to ever see them he swears he’d burst into flames out of embarrassment. How is he stumbling beneath his own feet over someone he’s met once?

But it doesn’t feel like you’ve only met once, he feels like he’s known you for a lifetime. The way you spoke during your cams, you were speaking to him. You had to be. You had to have seen him.

The voice in his head had Hyunjin summing up your absence to the fact that you were simply too busy for coffee. Yeah, that was what he chose to believe, definitely not the fact that he was acting literally insane and scared you into never setting foot in their store ever again.

The universe was listening to him, today of all days. Another early morning and he hadn’t even noticed you walk in at first, after two weeks he’d given up on hoping you’d come back. Imagine his surprise when he’s put on the register and sees you walk up to the counter.

“Ice– iced chai and three blonde shots, right?”

You were taken aback, you’d hadn’t been here in a while, two weeks to be exact. What was this cute, strange barista doing memorizing your order? And why is he looking at you like he’s picturing you naked?

“Yeah,” you replied slowly, narrowing your gaze at his pretty features.

He really was weird, his hands were shaking as he input your order, as he took your card and handed it back. When he was done ringing you up, he didn’t hand you the receipt but rather stared at you again. “Are you okay…” you glanced at his name tag, “Hyunjin?”

Oh, his cock twitched.

Be fucking normal. She’s just a person, for fucks sake. Stop being a weirdo. God, you’re embarrassing. 

“Y— yeah! It’s just…” Hyunjin’s heart sped up. This was his opportunity to ask you out, compliment you… But instead he asks, “can I have a name for the order?”

That wasn’t what you were expecting. For a second your heart stopped thinking that he had recognized you… Again, impossible, you had been too careful to let anything slip.

“You know my order but not my name?” A dry laugh and awkward but relaxed shrug, you tell him your name and the barista lets out a little inaudible stutter, a small smile spreading across your lips at his endearing reaction,

His head raised to meet your gaze again, “it’ll be out in a minute, pretty.”

Ballsy. Fucking ballsy. You have the most massive pair ever. Wait, she smiled… She smiled?? She’s still smiling? Oh, she’s walking away… I think that worked?

Why were you smiling? And why was your tummy fluttering? A cute barista complimenting you? That was nothing in comparison to the millions of adoring words you receive through your social media and live streams. So why was he any different? Stop smiling, you look stupid.

It really only took a minute, true to Hyunjin’s words. You didn’t expect him to be the one holding your drink at the pick up counter, the way your name rolling off his tongue making your adrenaline rush. 

What you didn’t see was him forcing his closest coworker to stand on register so he could be the one to make your drink. The finishing touch was the real kicker. Though it was a cold drink, Hyunjin fished out one of the doodled cup sleeves, the best one he’d drawn, and shyly wrote on the side of it before slipping it on and calling your name. He tried to hide his excitement and nervousness by trilling his voice a little more sing-song to get your attention.

You walked a little too fast towards the black haired barista, catching yourself and slowing as you came closer. He had a smirk that made your knees wobble just a tad bit before he held the drink out for you. Both your eyes met as you grazed his fingertips to pass over the cup, a shot of warmth shooting up your arm with a tingle as he lingered.

“Thank you, Hyunjin.”

“My pleasure, Y/N.”

Just the way he said your name made you want to fold in half. Maybe let him fold you in half. Definitely let him fold you in half. 

You hadn’t taken a sip of the drink until you got home, too giddy the entire walk to do anything but clutch it in your hands. But when you did sip on it, you verbally let out a, “mmm!” to no one but yourself.

Hours had gone by of you doing your regular chores and such that you do on your off days. Dirty clothes in the laundry, groceries were put away, now would be a good time to prepare dinner. You had just tossed the now empty to go cup in the trash when the smeared ink on the cardboard cup sleeve caught your eye. You had to dig it out of the trash, but it didn’t seem much out of order other than the wet marks from the earlier drink’s condensation.

There was a drawing, smudged but definitely still there. A small drawing of a girl’s side profile with fingers pressed to her lips like she was holding a cigarette, except she wasn’t. She’s simply touching her lips, depicted in a way that made her look so delicate despite the harsh black ink that carved her into the cardboard. She was pretty. It was probably his girlfriend, more than likely he didn’t think about what sleeve he grabbed and rushed to cup your drink with the one he’d drawn her on. Why did that make your stomach sink a little?

Still, it was a nice drawing. As you slipped it off the cup, you saw the words that made your stomach entirely fall out of your ass.

Sweetheart. 

Hyunjin waited again for you to return. When you didn’t the next day he was sure he scared you off. There was a reason you remained anonymous, to avoid situations exactly like this one. He just couldn’t help himself. If you freaked out, he’d act clueless and make an excuse to say it was only a cute nickname. He hoped you wouldn’t take it like that, however the fact that it took you another week and a half to come back to the coffee shop told him that was probably what you thought.

You avoided his gaze when you came into the shop for the third time. There was no line for once, but then again, it was way past the morning when you’d come the first few visits. 

Hyunjin’s breath hitched when you came straight up to the counter and met his eyes timidly, darting around as if you were scared to truly look at him.

“The usual?” He asked, hoping the sincerity in his voice would ease your clear distress.

“N— no… No drink…” Your words trailed off and Hyunjin felt himself starting to panic.

“I’m not a stalker, I swear. I just really… admire your work? For lack of a better phrase.” The genuineness could be felt in the air between you, and it made you want to trust him. But still, there’s always lingering doubt.

You lowered your voice and held out the doodled cup sleeve, “maybe you should keep the drawings of your girlfriend somewhere you won’t give to someone else you’ve seen naked.”

“What?” Hyunjin stared at you, blinking soullessly.

He had expected you to yell at him, scream, make a scene and call him all kinds of names. This was not on his bingo card.

“Your… your girlfriend?” You raised up the drawing and he laughed. A full belly laugh that made his shoulders shake and luscious black hair fall into his handsome, handsome face. “I’m very confused right now.”

“Oh, you’re so pretty.”

“I don’t know you well enough for you to be making fun of me.” 

“I’m off in thirty minutes. Wanna get coffee?” It was your turn to stare blankly at him. He smiled again shyly, “barista joke, forget it. But seriously, can we… maybe talk?”

“You just wanna talk?”

“Yeah.”

“…Alright.”

“I’ll call your name when your drink’s ready.”

“I didn’t order—“

“On the house,” Hyunjin leaned both hands into the counter, tipped his head slightly down, and smirked. Like a fucking player. That stupid smile, you don’t even know the guy and still want to simultaneously kiss him and slap that grin off his face. A frown and a nod, you sit at an empty table in the corner.

Less than five minutes later, Hyunjin is walking over to you with the drink in hand and he takes the open seat across from you.

“Aren’t you still working?”

“You’re the only one here.” You glance around the room, the shop is completely empty. 

“A filthy blonde chai, plus one more shot.” The drink is slid over to you by large, polished hands. “I’m not sure what they call a triple espresso chai… Most people usually stop at two. But, I don’t think you’re like most people.”

“Only a barista would use that line.”

“Honestly, I’m shitting bricks just sitting in front of you and I’m so glad I can barely hear myself over the music in this place because I wanted to melt into the floor as soon as I said it.”

The way he spoke was cute, like he couldn’t get himself to stop talking. “Are you fangirling right now?”

Hyunjin’s ears tinted a bright red and felt his cheeks flush with warmth. “Yeah, a little.”

“Over a pornstar?”

“To be fair you’re not a pornstar, you're a camgirl.”

“I don’t think that makes it any better.”

“For me or you?”

“…Both, I guess.”

He bit his plush bottom lip before letting slip from between his teeth, simply looking at you. “If it makes you feel better, you’re the only one I follow.”

It took you a minute to sit with that information, the entire ordeal was strange and you weren’t entirely sure what compelled you to come back to the shop in the first place. Within your silence, nothing actually processed in your head, there were no thoughts. Your career required you to be strategic as one wrong move could bring everything crashing down. As you sat in front of Hyunjin, the awkwardly suave, raven haired barista that makes a mean triple blonde chai, you realized how much you liked not having to think. 

“You’re the only one I watch, actually,” he continues to ramble in the lingering silence. “There really isn’t anything else– or, anyone else that I want to watch. That sounds… really gross now that I’m saying it out loud… I’m sorry, I’m– you make me really nervous. I don’t even know why, I don’t even know you. I mean, I do know you, but I only just met you. A– and I only knew who you were because of your voice. The way you speak– I love the sound of it. I could listen to you talk all day.”

You only stared at him with an unreadable expression, keeping your heart-fluttered cards close to your chest. “That does make me feel a little better,” you admitted softly. “But you’re not a stalker?”

Hyunjin leaned onto his elbows on the table. Even sitting and slouching, he had to look down at you. “Sweetheart, you walked into my shop, remember? I’ve been working here longer than you’ve been streaming. You came to me.”

Not. A. Single. Thought. 

How quickly he could go from a stuttering mess to acting like a cocky jackass gave you whiplash, you literally couldn’t predict what would come out of his mouth next. All that made your brain totally empty, words couldn’t form in your mouth to respond back.

Hyunjin reached across the table for where your hands played with the cup sleeve. His touch made warmth flood through your skin, up your arms and into your cheeks. He took the cardboard and held it next to your reddening face. “You really couldn’t tell?”

“I can tell that you should probably inform your girlfriend of the massive crush you have on a camgirl.”

He huffed and leaned back in his chair, tossing the cup sleeve between the two of you. “It’s not my girlfriend. It’s you.”

“What?! I don’t look like that!” You grabbed the drawing to examine closer, still not seeing the comparison. 

“You look exactly like that! Maybe the marker I used was too thick, but it’s definitely you.”

“No, I mean this girl is… It’s not me.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” Your head shot up to look at him. Was he really agreeing with you right now? “You’re waaay prettier than this. I had only seen you one time when I drew it, didn’t get to really look at your features. Was kinda starstruck, ya know?”

“...The more you talk, I can’t tell what you want from me.”

“Why do I have to want something from you to get to know you?”

What was his deal? Was he dense? Was there a sign on your back that said, “fuck with me?” This was a joke and no one was laughing but him. There was no reason for him to want to even talk with you, there had to be another reason. It didn’t make any sense.

“Everyone wants something. What do you want?”

Hyunjin leaned further forward and stared straight into your eyes, “to know you.”

How badly did you want to look away, but Hyunjin made it so hard. He kept the eye contact so steady, blindly reaching for your hand across the table and simply holding your fingertips with his, hardly even touching and the combination was still so deadly. His thumb rubbed lightly over your knuckles and you couldn’t help but lean in closer to him as well, furrow in his brow from the seriousness turn the conversation has taken only deepening.

He couldn’t read you as much as he tried. There was your poker face you’d mastered after the last person you’d cared about enough to take back to your showroom. Hyunjin didn’t know that, or even needed to know that, but you were weirdly comfortable around him. As uncanny as everything leading up to this was, your mouth moved on its own.

“Why do you deserve to?”

“Someone hurt you… badly, didn’t they? So much that you’re questioning why I want to know you as a person and not just a body.”

“Why do you keep talking like you know my life story? You don’t know me!”

“That’s kinda the whole point. I want to! You keep saying I don’t know you, so let me!” His voice raised slightly as yours did, mimicking your frustration.

And honestly, you couldn’t blame him. You were being annoying about this on purpose, you needed to push his buttons to see if he was going to be true to his word. If he wasn’t he’ll bow out quick after realizing you’re not worth all the effort. If he is… you hope for your heart he isn’t. But you want it so badly at the same time, you crave it. You’ve dreamed and fantasized of someone wanting you and only you, doing everything in their power to keep you, cherish you, make you feel so loved that they’d die if they couldn’t tell you that you meant more than the world to them. The kind of love that most people in your line of work gave up on a long time ago.

That’s the goal, isn’t it? To be loved? That’s what’s supposed to be the end game. If everyone is after it, why isn’t it easier to find? 

“I have a livestream in two hours…” your voice quivered. Why were you telling him this?

“You do…” his was steady. Why is he still holding your hand?

“I want to trust you.” You wanted to hide under a rock. Why do you like him holding your hand?

“You’re doing the best you can.” He seems so honest. Why are you still scared?

“You get one chance. If you’re serious, maybe I’ll keep you around.” His smile is so sweet. What is happening?

“That’s all I need.”

Fuck, he’s here. Why is he in your apartment? Why did you bring him back here? Stupid, stupid, stupid. You were already regretting it when you led him through the threshold and removed your shoes. He complimented your place, said it smelled nice. That’s a good sign, but this was out of your comfort zone.

Way, way, waaay out of your comfort zone.

Is this self-destructive? It is, yet you’re doing it anyway. You already broke rule number 4: don’t give everything all at once. You bulldozed through it, actually, dust and cement and rubble in the wake of your metaphorical path to lead him into your home and towards your showroom.

You led him towards the bed that was to the side of your streaming desk so you could see him past the monitors. Hyunjin was hesitant and sat as close to the edge as possible. As you say next to him, you could smell the coffee that seemed to seep from his pores, bitter but still sweet, energizing but would let it lull you to sleep. His gaze didn’t stray around the room, he didn’t even bother looking at your set up, focused on the way your shoulders relaxed and looked to be slightly less timid.

Hyunjin didn’t know where to put his hands, keeping them in his lap as you reached up to tuck his hair behind his ear. “Why am I here, Y/N?”

“You’re going to help me.” His eyes grew wide in shock, mouth parting slightly. “Not like that, get your mind out of the gutter.” The force of which he closed his mouth made his teeth audibly knock together. 

Hyunjin wanted to melt under the sudden intensity of your gaze, still playing with the tips of his hair at the nape of his neck while staring at him like a lion to a gazelle. “You get to look, but not touch… me.”

His eyebrows shot up, “what?”

“You heard me,” you leaned in closer, so close he could feel your warm breath on his cheek. Hyunjin was frozen solid and you haven’t even done anything yet, but he was ready to do anything you asked him to. Into his ear, you whispered, “look, no touching.”

It was just a peck. A simple peck of your lips to his cheek, that was all and it made Hyunjin’s entire body shake out of excitement. He got hard instantly and tried to adjust his pants so you couldn’t see the very obvious tent. Not for his efforts, you saw anyway and giggled. Oh, your laugh was so pretty, so innocent sounding despite the very unholy acts you were about to participate in. The same unholy acts he was about to participate in, too.

“Is this okay?” You asked, lips still close to his cheek. Hyunjin nodded rapidly, wanting to turn so you’d kiss him for real. “I need you to tell me, with your words, baby.”

“Y— yes, more.” There was a shudder in his voice, a very obviously excited one at that. 

You placed another gentle kiss to his cheek, “more what?”

Hyunjin leaned in so you were cheek to cheek, “more kisses, please.”

“What’s got you so worked up? Haven’t done anything,” you cooed back, threading your fingers through his hair and his entire body shivered. “You like when I call you baby?”

He nodded again and leaned into your hand, the only downside of that was it pulled his face from yours. Hyunjin debated on cupping your cheek, but you’d said no touching and he wanted to be good for you. Even though his first instinct was to reach out, he stayed put, letting that energy flow into gripping the sheets below him. 

You didn’t pull his hair, didn’t do anything but keep your hand tangled in it but the feeling made him shut his eyes. You were really here, holding him like this, talking to him the way he’d always imagined. The fact that you even considered giving him the time of day made him wonder if this was real life anymore.

“I thought you would. You’re my favorite, too.”

Hyunjin couldn’t stop himself, you were saying all the right words. He pulled away for a split second to look at

you in awe, then crash his lips against yours in a fevered kiss, searing hot and so, so needy. He whined into your mouth, completely lost in the sensation while you were taken slightly by surprise. Not in a bad way, you were just happy he’d been able to restrain himself for this long in the first place.

You kissed him back, just for a second before tearing him away by the back of the hair. Caught off guard, he softly whimpered at the harshness, then tried to follow your lips again but was unable. “No touching. If you can’t follow directions—“

“I can, I can! I promise.”

Huffing, you tossed him back to lay his head into the pillows. A devious smile played along his lips as his heart rate slowed again, “you liked it, though. I felt you kiss me back.”

You raised an eyebrow, moving to kneel onto the mattress beside him. “Hm, I can’t recall.”

It stung his heart a little, but he knew it was just an act. It was your way of riling him up.

You didn’t touch him now, there was still a few centimeters of space between your bodies and he could still feel your lips on his. His chest leveling out, erection in his pants painfully throbbing in his jeans, looking up at you with the best puppy dog eyes he could conjure, Hyunjin could die happy if you pat his back like after a sports match and sent him home.

But you didn’t. You didn’t move, you just looked at him. It made him slightly nervous only because he couldn’t be sure what you were thinking.

Hyunjin sat up on his elbows, “what are you gonna do to me?” Not an ounce of fear in his voice, pure curiosity and anticipation.

“I’m not gonna do anything.” His eyes followed you as you stood to walk towards your computers. It wasn’t until now did he see you sit in the chair he’d been watching you in since the start of your career. Seeing it in person made his chest feel warm, like knowing this bit of information was as if he’d truly been with you this entire time from the start.

You didn’t look at him as you typed at your computer for a moment, clicking the mouse a few times, and suddenly Hyunjin’s phone went off. He fished it out of his pocket to find a notification from that godforsaken website, “live soon, hardcandysweetheart: heat signature.”

“Am I gonna be on—“

“No, I wouldn’t throw you to the wolves like that.”

“…What does heat signature mean?”

“Our little secret,” you made your way back to the bed, taking your spot next to Hyunjin once more. This time, though, your hand was placed next to his thigh, a little too close for comfort. Softly did your fingers play with the hem, Hyunjin darted his eyes down then back up to your face, feeling his chest heating up again. “No one knows that I’m not alone. No one knows I have you here with me, watching me, drooling over me. You’re the only one that gets to see everything. Straight into to the warmest parts of me.”

All the blood he had left in his head rushed straight to his cock, making Hyunjin even harder, if that was possible. “Please, touch me,” he found himself begging.

The laugh you let out was menacing, it made him cower back slightly. “You’re brave, I’ll give you that. But no. I want you to touch yourself for me.”

“What?” Hyunjin asked louder, a little more embarrassed now that you’d furrowed your brows at him and tilted your head. His chest deflated at your clear annoyance.

“It’s a very intimate thing,” you started, softening your eyes as his pride crumbled little by little. “Sometimes, I think it’s more intimate than sex itself, showing your partner how you like to be pleasured. It’s the key to a person’s body and mind. If you know what place to touch, how to touch them, they’re yours. If you make them cum, you own them.”

Well when you explain it like that, Hyunjin can’t help but feel sorry for snapping. It makes sense to him, “knowledge is power.”

“Knowledge is power. Sex is more than physical. It’s emotional, mental— it’s everything before the clothes come off and everything after you both cum. If you feel seen, then your partner is doing something right.”

A few silent seconds, you could tell he understood by the way he was looking at you; ready to comply with any request. Hyunjin loved the way you talk so freely about sex, like it was just another conversation because it is. It’s nothing to be ashamed about and it’s not taboo. Your nonchalant, yet very caring attitude about the topic of sex made him feel more comfortable than any ex partner ever had when he was actually naked in front of them.

“Can I take my pants off now?”

You rolled your eyes, “keep your underwear on.”

Hyunjin thought he was fast before, this was a new record. Clothes were off in the blink of an eye— at least, his were. You eyed him up and down as he stripped and stood at the foot of the bed for your next instruction. “On your back.” He clambered onto the bed, not even caring that you were still fully dressed and he was in nothing but his boxers.

“Close your eyes.” He did. But only after he took a long, adoring stare into yours. “Did kissing me get you this hard, baby?” Hyunjin nodded, clawing at the sheets to keep himself contained.

You chuckled softly, “that makes me happy. This should be easy for you, then.” The bed shifted beside him and suddenly heat was swallowing him whole. Your breath tickled his neck, feeling you sitting closer to his head as you continued to talk to him. “When I first saw you, I didn’t think anything of it.”

What a boner killer. Not his boner, though.

“Then when you smiled at me, I thought it was just to get you some extra tips. Clearly, it worked. This is a pretty big tip. You have such a pretty smile.” Hyunjin’s hips kicked up just slightly. He couldn’t see it, but you were smirking at how easy he was to work up.

“Such a pretty smile, but such a dirty mind. I wanna know,” your lips pressed against the shell of his ear. “Tell me, baby. What do you think about when you touch yourself?”

“You,” he answered immediately, fighting the urge to palm at his twitching dick.

Gently as not to startle him, you unclenched his hands from the sheets and moved them towards where he needed it most, keeping your hands to yourself as soon as he got the idea.

“Me? That’s sweet,” you were sincere, flattered. “What about me?”

Hyunjin rubbed the heel of his palm hard into his cock through the thin fabric. There was already a darkening wet patch, your mouth watered at how much he was leaking. You couldn’t lie to yourself, he was big. Not so much girth, but just the right width with a little extra length and it made your pussy clench at the prospect of what could be. 

“Mmph— your hands. So pretty, want them around my throat.” Just the light graze of your fingernails raking across his neck made Hyunjin buck up into his own hands. “An— and your thighs. Looks so soft, I wanna bite into them.”

“And mark me up? Wanna leave pretty bruises for everyone to see?”

“Fuck, yes!” He pressed harder, resisting from sticking his hand down his pants. Obviously, you couldn’t have that, you were in a time crunch.

“Underwear off.”

“Thank god,” he rushed to shove them down, not even past his knees before he grabbed his cock and began to tightly fist himself.

There was a messy coating of precum over the tip, glistening in the soft warm pink and yellow mood lighting. He really did have a pretty cock, assumptions right in that he was perfectly proportioned with girth and length, looking oh-so-suckable.

“Fuck, keep talking. Please.”

“What is it about me that really gets you off? Hm? You like how amateur and naïve I act? Or is it that you can imagine any girl’s face when I touch myself?”

“No, no,” he whined, tightening his first around the upper half of his dick, short but hard ruts into the fleshy ring. 

“No? Then what is it, baby?”

“Your voice— god, fucking hell. The way you speak, the way you talk like you’re only talking to me. Like you only want me, that there’s no one else that you need and I’m the only one who can make you feel so fucking good— fuck!”

He was leaking more and more to puddle onto his abdomen. You reached over to dip the tip of your finger into it, swirling around in the mess before bringing the coated digit back up to his mouth. “Open.” He did, and closed as soon as he felt your finger press onto his tongue. Hyunjin moaned at the taste of himself, not at all put off but rather throbbing even harder.

“What would you do to me if I gave you the chance?” You asked quietly, genuinely curious as he swirled his tongue around your cleanly-licked finger. 

The question erupted a louder groan from deep within his chest, hardly muffled by the weight on his tongue. You stole it away so he could talk, secretly putting it into your mouth as his eyes were still closed to get a little glimpse more of what he tastes like. 

“Make you be a little pillow princess at first. Wouldn’t let you lift a finger and kiss you everywhere. Hard.” You liked that idea, pressing your legs together. “Wanna taste your pussy so bad. I’d eat you out until you’d be begging for me to stop and fuck you. No, I wouldn’t. I’ll feast on you for as long as I fucking want— only if you use your safe word would I stop.” He murmured that last part a little softer. How sweet.

Hyunjin sped up his movements, gathering the leaking fluids to use as lubricant and letting the wet sounds fill the room.

“Would you make me cum?” It was an innocent question.

“Would I?” But he took offense to it. “I’d make you cum all night long if you wanted. With my mouth— in my mouth. On my cock, make you hump my thigh like you do with those stupid fucking toys. God, I hate them and I love them, they always make you cum so hard. I can do that, too. I can make you cum so hard you’ll never wanna come back down. Fucking shit, want you to ride my thigh so badly. Want you to wanna fuck me all day, everyday, want you to think of me the way I think of you.”

His stomach was tensing, reaching down with the other hand to fondle his balls. You watched every one of his movements, memorized the places he reacted to the most. It seemed the tip was clearly the most sensitive, but he liked just the quick swipes over it, probably too sensitive for his own good. But then his grip would tighten just under it, fucking the ring of his fingers like it was a pocket pussy. He tugged at his balls, rolling them in his palm and arching into the bed. You wondered how long until he was ready to blow.

“I want that.” Your admittance made him peek open his eyes slightly. You didn’t scold him for disobeying, instead keeping the eye contact and moving off the bed. 

Hyunjin watched as you stripped your top off facing him, then your bottoms to reveal a cute light purple set. Nothing too fancy, but so suited to you it made his mouth drool over the way the strappy underwear hugged your love handles.

“But I have a job to do. So you’re gonna keep quiet for me, okay?” He sat up, slowing down his motions but not stopping.

Hyunjin was in awe. Mindless, jaw dropping awe in how easily you stripped in front of him. He never thought the act of you taking off a shirt in front of him would have him almost cumming instantly. Of course he’s seen you naked, but this was domestic. This was nothing any of your viewers has ever seen. Was he being a creep? Maybe, but you liked the way he was looking at you. He hasn’t been shy about wanting you, but how he couldn’t take his eyes off you now, it made the twisting in your belly churn tighter and brighter. 

Thankfully your computer was already on, you didn’t have to look away from Hyunjin and his pretty cock. Just one click and you’re live.

But you waited. You waited for him to get closer to the edge. He needed a little push. 

Taking your hand away from the mouse, you instead brought your knees up and rested your feet onto the chair to expose your core. With two fingers, you ran them over the gusset of your soaked panties, a visibly dark patch clear for Hyunjin to see.

His eyes rolled back and sped up the jerking movements, the loud slick noises echoing in the small room. Just the sound of him made you gush, so close to skipping your livestream just to fuck him into tomorrow.

No. Self control. Just this once.

You rubbed yourself a little harder over the fabric, waiting for the right moment. When his mouth dropped and let out a small whimper, you quickly closed your legs and turned back to the computer.

“Quiet now, baby. Relax and enjoy, but don’t make a sound.”

“Fuck— wait, I’m gonna cum—“

You quickly adjusted the camera and clicked, start live. 

“Have I kept you waiting long?”

☆ﾟ

tags: @sensitiveandhungry @babebatter @changbinluvr @epiphanynaffit @fawnpeaks @linovely @dumplinbokkieracha @finnydraws @naturules @djeniryuu @hamburgers101 @skzhomiehopper @yesv01 @hyunjinsamdl @dazzlingligth @alexis-reads-fics @0002linoskitten @chillichillicrabcrab23 @zerefdragn33l @straycrescent @binnies-donuts @soldierstangirl-blog @bakedlilgoonie @levanterlily @shelbyyy44 @yeetmehome @in2heartz @astroodledream @the-sweetest-rose @goblinracha @lilbugs-things @viviennenstan @staurdvst @alex--awesome--22 @imzenning @jeyelleohe @iadorethemskz @skyvastbunny @mamabymychem @katsukis1wife @woozarts @noellllslut

#stray kids #stray kids smut #stray kids fluff #stray kids angst #stray kids hyunjin #skz #skz smut #skz fluff #skz angst #skz hyunjin #hwang hyunjin #hyunjin #hyunjin smut #hyunjin fluff #barista!hyunjin #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin x yn #hyunjin x you #stray kids fanfic #stray kids imagine #stray kids hard thoughts #stray kids hard hours #skz hard thoughts #skz hard hours #hwang hyunjin x reader #hwang hyunjin x yn #hwang hyunjin x you

[islandofsages]

Hello, can i ask for Octavinelle dorm with Octavinelle! M! reader?

He's a really chill and silly guy but somehow crazy good with money and business. Like, if you give him 10 bucks and tell him to do whatever he wants with it and come back with 100 bucks, he'll somehow come back with 10000 bucks and become the CEO of some company. And, yeah, he's got these goofy ideas that somehow just work.

characters: the octavinelle boys x male octavinelle reader

tags: relationship not specified, crack (?), imagines format

warnings: a bit of swearing (just one word really)

author's notes: i love yall yall's readers are so goofy they're so fun to write

Azul Ashengrotto

He appreciates how you’re one of the more level-headed guys around, though if only you could lay off the joking and teasing

But as long as you don’t cause him trouble he doesn’t mind you as much - and you end up proving to him that you are the very opposite

One day, he asks you to run him a errand (with fair compensation, of course; he is the soul of benevolence after all)

It’s quite simple - fetch him a sum of money Sam owes the Mostro Lounge (you don’t question how and why a fully-grown adult owes a seventeen year old money)

And so you go over to Sam’s. You won’t lie, you’re a little curious of what this debt entails. You’ll see if you can squeeze some details out of Sam

You meet up with Sam, all smiles as per usual. Though when you mention that you’re there because of the debt, he takes you into the shop’s backroom instead

He gives you an envelope, stuffed with the goods no doubt. He seems insistent on not letting on anything - but then you hit him with a classic move

“Now, now, we’re not in a rush, are we? I don’t even work for the Mostro Lounge. Least you can do is entertain a guy. I’ll keep my lips sealed.”

Sweet-talk and half-truths are a way to a salesman's heart after all. It’s true that you don’t work for Azul but that’s only because you have other businesses going on right now

Sam gives in with a sigh. It seems as if he’s been carrying such a secret for a while and needs an outlet. And you are definitely here for it

You come back to Octavinelle, skipping merrily (if not physically, at least you were on cloud nine mentally) and carrying more than just an envelope. Azul, on the other hand, is borderline seething for whatever reason. Little does he know

The moment you reach his office, you toss him the envelope and is about to leave - until he sees not one but the two enormous bags you carried in your hands that are definitely filled with money

Distraught, he questions you on how the hell you manage to score that much money. You shrug while walking towards the exit. It's just a matter of persuasion and creative thinking.

Business is so easy, you thought.

Jade Leech

Similar to Azul, it’s nice to have someone who has their shit together - plus, he finds it amusing when you mess with Azul. It reminds him of Floyd’s antics

Once in a while, you’re a pleasant guy to just sit down and have small talk with, though at times he wishes you would let on about yourself more

For his information, you only let slip when you want to; and he finds that out himself one fateful day

He jokes that if there’s anyone who could overpower Azul and steal his authority over the Mostro Lounge, it’d be you. You chuckle knowingly at this

Feeling a little playful, you propose to him a bet - if you manage to do so by next week, he owes you ten thaumarks. But if you don’t, you owe him ten thaumarks

He lets out a carefree laugh, amused. He reserves his assumptions and agrees to play along with you for the next few days

He doesn’t see you in a while. Not intentionally - he genuinely can’t find you anywhere, though he only attributes it to the fact that there’s only so much time he can use to look for you

After a whole week has passed, he seats himself where the bet initially took place and waits patiently for you to show up. True to your promise, you come waltzing up to him casually, your hands in your pockets and a friendly smile on your face

You slide next to him as he asks you how’ve you been and the two of you update each other on your wellbeing. Then he starts chuckling, a hand over his mouth in true Jade fashion. You smirk in response, knowing too well what that chuckle is for

And in true you fashion, you pull out ten thaumarks and extend them to him

…wait a minute. That’s ten thousand thaumarks.

You savor the sight of a Jade with his mouth agape. You snicker at his bewilderment as he tries to process what’s happening in front of him

“It’s true that I didn’t usurp Azul’s power or anything - but that’s only because I’m not interested in the Mostro Lounge. I’d rather have it as a rival than my property.”

After he gets over his initial shock, he offers you a sinister, toothy grin. You respond with a finger to your lips. He nods understandingly and takes the money from you with no protest.

Floyd Leech

You’re more low-key compared to him but he still appreciates having a fellow pain-in-Azul’s-ass

Of course, it depends on his mood still, but his tolerance of you is pretty consistent despite everything. You take it as a compliment

On one of his good-mood days, he’s chatting it up with you and laying out potential ways to mess with Azul more. You bring your own idea to the table

“How about this? I get a common word used by literally everyone trademarked and anyone who dares utter it has to pay me. And that includes Azul himself.”

He guffaws at your ridiculous idea and voices his opinion. You laugh yourself and don’t deny it. It is pretty far-fetched… but you have your ways

Plus, he has to admit that would piss off Azul super bad it’d be worth the trouble

The two of you hang out from time to time as usual when behind it all, you’re setting up Azul’s eventual downfall

Or not. You don’t actually care about taking Azul down but it would be pretty funny. Also you’ll get to impress Floyd in some shape or form which you care more about frankly

Once the deed is done, it’s announced everywhere you could think of - you did it under a fake name of course. But the money you’ll be getting can’t be any more real

What did you trademark? The word “so”.

When you relay this story to Floyd, he lets out a howl of a laugh you could’ve mistaken him for a wolf - he has no idea what strings you had to pull to actually manage that but color him entertained

…until he realizes that he’d also have to pay you every time he uses that word. Then his mood goes down instantly

You shrug that realization off by giving him a pass since he let you entertain the idea in the first place.

Floyd happy again :)

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #platonic twst x reader #platonic twisted wonderland x reader #twst x male reader #twisted wonderland x male reader #azul ashengrotto #azul ashengrotto x reader #jade leech #jade leech x reader #floyd leech #floyd leech x reader #azul ashengrotto x male reader #jade leech x male reader #floyd leech x male reader #octavinelle

[love-belle]

king of my heart !!!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ in which they finally share their little life with the world.

or

for when it's just peaceful and happy. ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

social media au // lewis hamilton x fem!reader

warnings - language

author's note - loved writing this so much!! im trying to post all of social media requests first before moving onto one shots so if u requested a one shot, im so sorry for the delay, i've been busy with tests all day long. hopefully i can post them over the next couple days!! i love you, thank you for reading this. this was requested by @tbb01 hope you like it love!!

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by lewishamilton, carmenmmundt, danielricciardo and 964,826 others

yourusername king of my heart, body and soul 🤍

tagged lewishamilton

username HELLO WHAT THE FUCK

username OH NY GOF WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK OMG

username THE TAYLOR SWIFT LYRIC IM DECEASED.

carlossainz55 please tell me you told lewis that you were going to post this

-> yourusername he's gonna be surprised when he wakes up x

username THEY'RE SO AHAHSJEKKSJSKJSJS

username PARENTS

danielricciardo i see we chose violence today

*liked by yourusername*

lewishamilton a warning would've been nice baby x

-> yourusername sorry i couldn't resist x

lewishamilton i love you, thank you for being my personal paparazzi

-> yourusername anytime ❤️‍🩹

username IM SOVBINF I LOVE RHEM

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by yourusername, carlossainz55, maxverstappen1 and 986,627 others

lewishamilton years of being together and i manage to fall in love with you even more as time goes on. forever seemed like a long time back then but now i feel like it'll never be enough. i would walk through hell with you, for you, as long as it's you holding my hand. i love you, my love, in all my past lives, in this one and all those to come. happy 5th anniversary ❤️

tagged yourusername

username THEY'RE MARRIED?????????

username WHAT THE FUCK WHATCTHEBFUCK WHAT THE FHCK

username 5 YEARS OH MY GOD

username "forever seemed like a long time back then but now i feel like it'll never be enough" CAN YOU HEAR ME CRYING.

danielricciardo fyi y/n is crying x

-> yourusername this is exactly why ur no. saved as ABSOLUTELY NOT

username shakespeare's been real quiet since lewis wrote that caption

-> username got bro rethinking his entire career now

username this is life changing information guys u don't understand

-> username i will be telling stories of this to my kids like this is historical

landonorris mom and dad ⁉️

-> yourusername son?

-> lewishamilton we already have one but thanks

-> yourusername LEWIS OH MY GOD

-> username WHAT WHAT WHAT

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by lilymhe, charles_leclerc, yourbestfriend and 995,427 others

yourusername dakotah antonio y/l/n-hamilton ❤️ (lewis is on the couch folding laundry and will be doing that for an entire month, thank you)

tagged lewishamilton

8,927 comments

username THEY HAVE A BABY

username WHATCTHEBFUCJ

username the way today's full of surprises like they really exposed their relationship, marriage and the fact that they're parents in a SINGLE day

username just saying but i would die for this baby

charles_leclerc missing my little man ❤️‍🩹 tell him his godfather says hi

-> danielricciardo excuse me?

-> carlossainz55 it's me obviously

-> landonorris no it's me

-> pierregasly im y/n's best friend, it's ME

-> yourusername ...

username HE'S GONNA BE SO LOVED I CAN JUST TELL

username LMFAOOO NOT LEWIS ON LAUNDRY DUTY

username im in shock rn like woah.

lewishamilton i love you ❤️‍🩹

-> yourusername love u too ig 🫤

-> lewishamilton oh

-> yourusername IM SORRY I LOVE YOU ❤️

username *sighs* ME WHEN??????!!!!!!!!!

username this is HUGE like oh my god.

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by yourusername, carlossainz55, georgerussell63 and 998,617 others

lewishamilton my everything summed up in two pictures 🤍

tagged yourusername

8,927 comments

username in love with this family omg

username u don't get it im SCREAMING

username baby y/l/n-hamilton is so adorable i could cry

danielricciardo so much love for you guys ❤️

*liked by lewishamilton*

username he's gonna be the most fashionable baby on the paddock i can feel it

username the day my life changed: today

username LEWIS AS A DAD I CANNOT

username y/n come home, im sure the kids won't mind a half sibling 🫤🫤🫤 u can bring your hus- 🤮 h-husba- 🤮 h-husband 🤮🤮 too ig

landonorris favs ‼️

*liked by lewishamilton*

username im so normal about this hahahahAhahahAHaha

username no bc im literally SO happy for them like they deserve each other fr

username cannot wait for dakotah's first time seeing his dad race omg

yourusername i love you both so much, my entire world is you

-> lewishamilton all i can say is thank you, our baby boy is so lucky to have you as his mother

username they're so in love im.

#lewis hamilton x female reader #lewis hamilton x fem!reader #lewis hamilton x you #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton imagines #lewis hamilton social media au #lewis hamilton blurb #f1 x female reader #f1 x reader #fake instagram imagines #social media au #f1 imagines

[diorsluv]

casual , part 7

“ you said ‘we’re not together’ ”

series m. list previous chapter next chapter

( socialmedia!au )

yourusername

liked by vivianliu, dylanduke25, and 100,299 others

yourusername i’m on that hot girl shit

view all comments

username91 the mirror pics 🤭🤭

username40 gimme sum of the hot girl shit babe 🙏

lhughes_06 yes queen be confident!! don’t let my douchebag of a best friend bring down your happiness

→ yourusername who are you and what have you done to my brother

→ mackie.samo limp wrist culture

→ markestapa 🍊🍓🍎🫐🍐🥭🥝🍏🍋

→ dylanduke25 fruit bowl alert

→ rutgermcgroarty 😟

→ lhughes_06 STOP THIS I BEG OF YOU

_quinnhughes i have a few friends who want to get to know you a bit better

→ yourusername wait a second..

→ _quinnhughes yes i know i never let you talk to guys 😑 BUT THIS IS AN EXCEPTION.

→ yourusername is it what i think it is 😱

→ jackhughes WAIT WHAT WE DIDNT AGREE TO THIS

→ lhughes_06 THIS WAS NOT UNANIMOUSLY DECIDED

→ _quinnhughes THIS IS A ONE TIME THING ONLY yourusername

rutgermcgroarty yay

→ yourusername ☺️

→ rutgermcgroarty 😁

→ yourusername 🥰

→ rutgermcgroarty 🤗

→ lhughes_06 what the hell is this

→ luca.fantilli goddammit they’re communicating in emojis again

_alexturcotte AYEEEE NICE

trevorzegras SHES BACK??

→ yourusername IM BACK

→ trevorzegras are you happy

→ yourusername i’m happy!

→ jackhughes she’s not happy she called me last night bawling her eyes out

→ yourusername THAT WAS STRICTLY SIBLING BUSINESS jackhughes

username48 who’s gonna tell her she looks absolutely GORGEOUS

username93 drop the workout routine babe

→ username22 fr i’m tryna get a waist like that

luca.fantilli i think someone might feel a bit regretful

→ yourusername i wonder who 🤨

→ luca.fantilli i think you know who

→ yourusername i won’t know unless he tells me himself

→ luca.fantilli IM TRYING TO HELP YOU

vivianliu oh my god

vivianliu mother

vivianliu you’re so hot

liked by yourusername

vivianliu who needs your little boy toy when you have MEEEE

→ yourusername ‼️‼️

→ lhughes_06 i’d rather you date her instead of him

→ jackhughes me too

markestapa he has so much pride i apologize

→ yourusername 🤷‍♀️

→ yourusername you know how i am with my toxic men

→ _quinnhughes yeah you’re obsessed yourusername

→ trevorzegras LMAOOO

→ mackie.samo goddamn 😭

→ vivianliu stop don’t do her like that

→ _alexturcotte violation.

→ dylanduke25 💀💀

colecaufield hello i see those are the headphones i generously gifted you out of the kindness of my heart

→ yourusername i dont like where ur going with this.

→ colecaufield I DIDNT EVEN SAY ANYTHING

→ yourusername U SOUND LIKE UR GONNA SAY SOMETHING

→ jackhughes he wants you to go watch him play when they play the wings on thursday

→ colecaufield JACK.

→ yourusername AWWW OF COURSE I WILL (can you get me good tickets 🤨)

→ colecaufield i already got you behind the bench don’t worry

username14 i’m afraid you ABSOLUTELY ATE 💕

username55 mom and dad are fighting again

→ username71 mom and dad??? they didnt even hard launch babe 😭😭

edwards.73 nice

this comment has been deleted

edwards.73

liked by adamfantilli, markestapa, and 93,447 others

edwards.73 spent time with the #1 bro tn

tagged: markestapa

view all comments

dylanduke25 i always knew you had favoritism

→ edwards.73 it’s true mark’s my favorite

→ dylanduke25 YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO DENY IT

→ edwards.73 my mom said never lie

→ markestapa i love you too babe 🥰🥰 edwards.73

→ edwards.73 😘

username36 this is so frat boy

adamfantilli this is completely unfair

→ edwards.73 you berated me last night on ft

→ adamfantilli BRO SHE’S MY BEST FRIEND BY ASSOCIATION

username16 i’m waiting for you and rosie to make up

username5 ethan’s cheating with mark 😱

mackie.samo let’s address the allegations

→ edwards.73 hell no

→ dylanduke25 what allegations?? 😟

lhughes_06 why can’t you just stop beating around the bush for once

jackhughes i hope you know she cries herself to sleep every night

→ yourusername stop exaggerating it was one time 😒

username17 listen to the hughes ethan please 🙏

username3 i’m so confused what’s going on

vivianliu you should’ve spent tonight with her

→ edwards.73 well i didn’t so 🤷‍♂️

→ vivianliu oh my god you drive me insane just make up and fuck already

→ markestapa what’s with the change of heart vivian 🤨🤨

→ vivianliu i give up

colecaufield 👍

→ edwards.73 🙏

username45 ayeee that’s what we like to see

username90 whyd you post a mirror pic too

→ username22 can he not post a mirror selfie?? 😭

_alexturcotte just makeup and makeout

→ trevorzegras whaaat 🤯

→ edwards.73 thought you were so against me what happened

→ _alexturcotte we’re so tired of you two

luca.fantilli am i #2 at least 🥹🥹🥹

→ edwards.73 yes bro ur #2 🙄

→ adamfantilli #2 literally means shit

→ rutgermcgroarty awww luca you’re shit 🥰

→ luca.fantilli hahaha ur so funny

yourusername stop ignoring me please

username37 ethan and mark best duo ⁉️⁉️

username74 let’s talk about the fact that that’s a whole ass mural in a house???

→ username59 frat house go crazy

_quinnhughes stop ignoring her ethan

→ edwards.73 i’m not

trevorzegras should’ve invited me fr

→ edwards.73 buddy you’re on the other side of the country

→ trevorzegras PLEASEEEE 🥺🥺🥺🥺

→ edwards.73 ew god no

username16 this is so old chase atlantic coded

→ username44 LIKE THE NOSTALGIA EP??

→ username60 YEAAA

rutgermcgroarty PLEASE she’s sobbing uncontrollably and i know it’s killing you too

→ edwards.73 mmmm

→ rutgermcgroarty i see you on life360 outside her apartment dont even try to act all mysterious and shit

→ edwards.73 STOP STALKING ME??

→ rutgermcgroarty if i don’t see you still at her apartment when i wake up in the morning i’ll make sure you never wake up again

→ adamfantilli calm down rut 😭

→ colecaufield i see you’re a bit protective aren’t you rutgermcgroarty

→ mackie.samo why are we threatening each other

→ lhughes_06 okay why are his words effective but mine aren’t 😔😔

→ markestapa what the hell is going on

→ dylanduke25 FIGHT??

→ jackhughes more like a murder dylanduke25

→ vivianliu i stand by rut ‼️

username20 please just have makeup sex already i want the old posts back

→ username2 yeah i think they’re doing that 💀

next chapter notes ) soooo yes they’re a little toxic but i love my toxic men 🥴

tags: @dancerbailey3 @hughesfein @loveforaugust @alwaysclassyeagle @love4ldr @inhoodmood @bunting58 @crazycat-ladys-blog @smoooore @bunbunbl0gs @lilasianmeat

#ethan edwards #ethan edwards fanfic #ethan edwards fic #ethan edwards x reader #ethan edwards x y/n #quinn hughes #jack hughes #trevor zegras #alex turcotte #cole caufield #dylan duke #luke hughes #mackie samoskevich #mark estapa #adam fantilli #rutger mcgroarty #luca fantilli

[forbidden-sin-bin]

Sex and Filthy Smut headcanons

(Eminem x F!Reader Hc’s and drabbles)

Rated: E for explicit… no wait, this needs an X rating for possibly being the filthiest thing I’m gonna write in my life. God save my soul (probably not but hey at least I asked)

Warnings: I mean… look at the title. Need I say more??? Smut. Sex. Lovemaking, Intercourse. Whatever the hell you wanna call it. The whole 10 yards is here. It’s porn, not gonna lie at all.

Tags/Keywords: Smut, Heavy Smut, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, fluff, fluff and smut, Pre-established relationship, Sexual Content, Kink, Overstimulation, Dom/Sub, BDSM, Dirty Talk, Praise Kink, Oral Sex, Giving/Receiving, Healthy Relationships, Feel Good, Everything sinful under the sun is found here, Author is going to hell, anyone who reads this is coming with me

A/N: Yes yes, ain’t no fuckbuddies or friends with benefits headcanons here, sue me. There is NO angst or sadness here. None, zero, zilch. Those kinds of relationships almost NEVER end well 98% of the time. This is all about you and him ONLY. Give it up for romance y’all.

Not gonna lie, there might've been more I wanted to add to this hellfire list of headcanons but once you've seen how much stuff there is below I hope you'll forgive me for finally putting this out here.

I hope by reading this, will provide you with comfort and satisfaction.

VERY special thanks to @smutty-books for beta reading and feedback along with helping me with this monster of a list! Please check them out and show them some love! (Seriously thank you Smutty for the additional ideas and content. you made this Hc's list a million times better and twice as much content included.)

(WARNING: Past this point is VERY EXPLICIT CONTENT. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.)

General HC's:

Oh boy. Oh boy oh boy ohhhhhh boy.

You want sum fuk? You got sum fuk and way more.

As long as you’re his s/o, congrats on your sex life being absolutely demolished and rebuilt by this man. You’ll probably never find a better person in the bedroom for the rest of your life. It literally doesn’t matter if he’s your boyfriend or your husband, sex is a staple activity in your relationship that you both enjoy.

Fast and rough? Slow and steady? Maybe a little bit of both? You bet he’ll be saying fuck yeah to all of those.

His sex drive has always been relatively quite high, even after all these years. Being 50 and counting ain’t gonna stop him anytime soon.

Can, and will, want to fuck you on any and every surface of the house.

Living room couch? Perfect spot for bouncing in his lap or to blow him hard.

Dining room table? He’ll have you either bent over and railing you from behind or sitting on top while he devours your dripping wet pussy.

Taking a shower? You’ll be saving water if you do it together… yeah. Definitely not because of at least a half dozen things you can do in there with soothing hot water pouring down your bodies.

In the studio?…

Okay maybe not the studio he’s gotta work without getting distracted and lord save you two if anyone finds a sliver of evidence that you two fucked in there-

Not a PDA guy much, which also extends to any sexual antics outside. He won’t be taking any risks getting the two of you caught lacking

As long as you two are in the house, it’s free game

His views and methods of sex vary depending on which era we’re talking about

If he were in his 1999’s/2000’s era, then yeah, absolute horndog. He’s constantly so busy and on the move, sex would be a quick trip and onto the next. It would’ve scratched the itch, but arguably wouldn’t have sated his appetite for long. If he ever had a chance to have a good, drawn out sex session, it’ll leave him looking like he had a serious hangover but he’ll be waking up so relaxed.

Him being quick to fuck around and quick to leave was his style pre-Relapse. It’s a common thing you see around music artists in general and he was no exception. That doesn’t mean he was closed off to finding an actual solid relationship, it just becomes that much harder to find someone genuine. Most of the time though, he was busy putting out albums and producing music with a 9 to 5 regimen.

Post-Relapse/Recovery Em had insane stamina due to the excessive amount of exercise he put in. Call me insane, but I have a feeling this may be the time where he had the least amount of sex drive-

NOW HOLD ON HEAR ME OUT

He was starting out his sobriety around this time, I’m no expert but I would have to think that he hasn’t fucked or hooked up with anyone since then cause sex may have been a risk or his body was recovering, therefore most likely putting sex as a low priority. That isn’t to say he wasn’t busting a nut oh no, he probably became best friends with his hands again.

The time between Rap God/Monster Era was slowly building back up his drive, transitioning him to the Revival/Present Day era where he’s back on his blue-balling bullshit. Mans been practically putting out mating calls in his music and in interviews I mean COME ON HAVE YOU SEEN IT

He’s wise enough to not be caught slipping with hoes cause he won’t be caught with those hoes. At all. He’s not a hoe fucker no more. You heard him.

Finding an actual healthy relationship with one person? Someone give it to him, now.

(Anyone who remembers that one shot in that Rainy Days behind the scenes video where he points the camera to his crotch and says “EVERYTHING is for sale.” If that isn’t a man in heat I dunno what is; And that’s just one example out of many lemme tell you)

THE POINT IS, HE CAN GO FOR ONE ROUND, OR MANY, MANY MORE.

He’s determined to make you feel good more than him, but he’ll absolutely be having fun with how you’re gonna come. He’ll love exploring your body, finding out every little spot that gives you shivers down your spine.

Oh yeah, did I mention that he's got a big dick? He's got a big dick.

Don't try to deny it when you can't help but glance at his crotch all the time. It might be bias, or it might be fact that you can see the bulge in his pants.

Dom/Sub Roles:

He’s a dom, no question about that. Most of the time he’s a soft dom, not overwhelmingly asserting himself over you but firm enough to have you listen to him. Of course, he’ll be praising you a ton if you’re doing good and listening. But if you’re acting a little bratty, a little petty… yeah, he’ll make you behave, let’s just leave it at that.

Enjoys having you bent over his knee while he fingers your pussy, making sure you’re all nice and ready for him to enjoy.

If you squirm too much, expect a light spanking and a firm reminder to behave.

Again, not over the top with his dominance, cause at the end of the day, he wants to take care of you, to make you feel comfortable and show you how much he loves you. So praising isn’t just a dom thing, it’s genuinely how he expresses his affection to you.

If you insist on it, he can go even harder as a dom, upping his antics and getting off on seeing you beg for relief. Punishments will be even meaner and if you slip up even just a little, looks like you’re gonna have to start all over. No amount of pleading, teary whines from you will get him to change the cold, hard look in his eyes as he’s watching you.

Absolutely insistent on a safe word, no matter the situation.

Marshall’s immediately shifting to a protective, nurturing caretaker the moment your safe word leaves your lips and making sure your needs are met, completely understanding and shushing any apologies that threaten to leave your mouth for ruining the moment. You come first and foremost.

Amazing with aftercare. Will make sure that you’re okay and well taken care of after a session, praising you lovingly as he holds you close. If it was particularly intense, he’ll be checking in on you for the next day or so whilst feeling quite proud of himself that he can reduce you to a begging, dripping mess yesterday night. But he's by far more proud of you for trusting him and letting him experience you in such a vulnerable position.

All it takes is for him to say: "Such a good girl" and you're all his. (Can't blame you honestly-)

He'll be using your petnames even outside of your passionate sessions, even if it's just coming home to greet you after a day of work or passing by each other in the house to do something, a quick: "Hey peaches" or "How's my babygirl?" never fails to want to leave you smiling shyly, even after a bad day.

While being a sub is not what he would usually do at all, it’s not impossible. Once he’s far into a relationship with you and fully comfortable, he might actually give in to your insistence.

He has a need to feel like he’s in control, like he’s leading; Being on the opposite end is a big deal for him, so if he ever subs it’s a huge fucking compliment and privilege that shows how much he trusts and loves you to bare himself to you.

He’ll definitely be grumbly about it tho, and probably trying to act all teasing at your attempt to dominate him. But once you get past that first phase and he lets himself relax and give into your control… he doesn’t want to admit it, but he feels so fucking secure with you.

When he fully gives in, he’s preening and leaning into your touch. He’ll be such a good boy under your lavish praise and having all of your attention on him.

It feels almost foreign, not being the one in charge and making all the decisions for once. But once he gets used to it, he'll be doing whatever he can to receive your approval.

Seeing him at your mercy, letting you take the reins, makes it your priority to see him come undone by your command, holy shit, it's fucking beautiful.

If he's up for being a little more bratty (not unlike he's been on his petty shit for decades as his core personality trait let's be real here) and expecting to be punished and/or your dominance be harsher, the thought of pushing you to your limits with how much you're willing to keep up with him makes him really, really excited on the inside.

It’s both of your secrets, so don’t fuck it up, a'ight?

Teasing/Body Parts:

Speaking of secrets… he’s incredibly private, but at the same time, don’t be surprised if he ends up writing lyrics that may or may not allude or be inspired by your sex lives. You swear this man will be the death of you, smug bastard.

If you’re ever turned on by listening to his music or his voice, it’ll be such a massive ego boost for him, holy shit. No need to feel embarrassed, cause he’s fucking flattered.

Even tho his residence is far from any neighbors (and definitely soundproof), he’s got a playlist for your ears to get aroused to.

Imagine Marshall whispering in your ear or talking in that low voice of his and well damn now you’re horny is an understatement of the goddamn century.

And it’s not just you! Marshall gets off hearing you moan like crazy, another sign that lets him know he’s doing a damn good job. Hearing you whimpering gets him going, but making you scream? Jackpot.

Unsurprisingly to a lot of y’all, but he loves tits. He loves ass for sure, but feeling your breasts is just- Yes.

Love fondling them, licking, biting, sucking, you name it.

Now do the same for him-

OKAY OKAY HEAR ME OUT HAVE YOU SEEN THIS MAN’S PECS

MAN’S GOT HUGE FUCKING HONKERS. HOLY SHIT.

(No wonder he’s such a titty guy-)

But seriously, play with his chest and he’ll be moaning and writhing under you. Music to your ears.

Rest assured your ass will not be forgotten or neglected. No fucking way he’ll ever leave any part of you un-worshipped. Even when you’re just passing each other around the house he’ll playfully slap or squeeze your ass with a smirk. Cheeky fucker.

May or may not prompt him to just throw you down and pin you against whatever furniture is closest and have his way with you right then and there.

Or it could be the other way around! You can't help but give his sexy behind a mischievous swat or grab, or his pecs. He'll probably pretend to be miffed but you'll be catching him returning the smirk you have on your face. Oh, by all means, have your way with him right then and there as well. Equal rights, equal sexy times.

Grabbing your backside and pulling you closer to him, pressed against his chest and his growing bulge in his pants oh sweet Jesus-

Will for sure spank you while you’re riding him or he’s railing you from behind, the sounds of skin slapping against skin while he sees your ass jiggle with every thrust is just so fucking hot

He wants to reach deep down, as far as his cock can reach, nothing in the house is safe from him pounding your pussy and giving you a creampie.

Speaking of that, He LOVES to come into you or on you. It gives him a feeling of claiming what's his. Anytime he sees his cum dripping outta you or running down your skin, Marshall’s ready to go again.

Or he could use a sex toy, making sure his cum stays inside and your pussy ready for him in a few.

Kinks

We’ve already covered the dom/sub parts, but there is SO much potential for other kinks that you and him can get into so let’s get right into it

Breeding Kink:

I mean how can we not start this off without mentioning that

Can, and will ram you harder and faster than a piston AND make sure you both cum multiple times

If you’re walking the next morning, that means he failed the assignment so now he’s boutta rectify that

Dirty talk is cranked to a hundred as he’s growling in your ear on how much of a slut you are for his seed, how he’ll fill you up and make sure your womb is carrying his baby, how gorgeous you would look with your belly swollen with your little creation, etc.

Even if he’s sure that he doesn’t want anymore kids (given his age or experience, which is understandable), imagine the baby fever he gets when he sees or imagines you with kids

He’s perfectly happy with just you and him, but the possibility of you, him, and maybe a little one you made together from your love? His pupils are dilating like a cat getting ready to pounce

Even if the possibilities are extremely unlikely, the mere thought of it and he’s giving you the 🥺 eyes. (Every time you see him make those eyes at you, it’s probably cause he’s feelin the breeding urge)

If you're not able to, that doesn't change a thing; he wants to make you feel like you're his no matter what, and you are! He loves you for you.

Obsessed with coming inside you after railing you into the mattress, filling you to the brim with his seed

Loves giving you a creampie and then watching it leak out of your pussy, might take the initiative to stuff his spilling cum back into you

Or he could just fuck you at multiple different times during the day like the stud he is

Hell he may as well just not pull out and you’ll both be falling asleep still connected

You'll be waking up with his member engorged and slowly thrusting in you while he nuzzles into you, taking in your scent, kissing your lips so softly until you both cum. After that he takes you to the shower and you both wash each other

Loves marking your skin with his mouth, letting anyone know that your his and his only

Your cunt and everything else is thoroughly satisfied every time the breeding kink comes on don’t you worry about that honey

Size Kink:

Hey don't judge his 5'7 ass. Marshall's got other big things minus his height; Big hands, big ears, HUGE CO-

If you're smaller than him: He praises you for taking him in so well, whispers words of encouragement with every inch he pushes into you until you can feel his tip brushing against your cervix. Doesn't want to overdo it in fear of hurting you, but with your insistence he'll be going all out in due time

If you're taller than him: He LOVES it. No cap you being taller or bigger than him is so fucking sexy. Makes him more eager to make you come and more confidence in exploring different ways to do so

Takes a hand in yours and guides you both to press against your stomach, feeling for his cock thrusting into you

Praises you constantly as he feels your walls stretch around him so perfectly

Once you feel like you can take all of him, all of his restraint is gone as he pounds your sopping wet cunt relentlessly

Body worshipping is a must regardless of size

Feral/Primal Kink:

You know how possessive he can be, and that still translates to the bedroom. Even when he knows you're his, he can't help but feel turned on by his possessiveness for you.

And when you're all his, he can go fucking. Crazy.

It's also the dom feeling in him as well, but he has a need to claim you: Not out of insecurity, but out of his desire to make sure you know how much he loves you.

Likes biting your ear as an affectionate gesture. Sometimes he enjoys lightly tugging as a playful gesture to get you riled up.

Marshall thinks the growling thing is dumb as hell but if you're into that he'll try to give you some throaty growls in your ear, but expect him to start cracking up at his attempts until he's used to it

He thinks he can't do it yet he doesn't realize the low rumble in his throat whenever he gets a jealous streak

Voice/Audio Kink:

Well, well, WELL. Someone's ego is about to be stroked harder than his cock for once

He’ll absolutely be moaning and grunting more often when you guys have sex

Jokingly asks if you want to put some music on before you start fucking though he probably cringes listening to his own music during sex

Definitely ruins the mood for him when he hears someone that collabed with him on one of his songs or if any of his lyrics mention things that he doesn't want to think about when horny

Whenever he asks what you're listening to and hears one of his songs, he can't help but inwardly smile or smirk with pride. "Good choice." He nods, keeping his face unreadable.

If he catches you listening to FACK he just starts dying with laughter and dying on the inside simultaneously

No but seriously, he's super fucking flattered knowing how much his music or just his voice turns you on

Whispers in your ear during sex, either praising, teasing, or telling you what to do

He'll be observing which tone provokes the biggest reaction out of you so he can remember it for future reference

(People working with him in the studio are gonna be wondering why he's so close to the mic while recording recently)

Might record something just for your ears to listen to when you guys are apart ;)

Sex Positions

Missionary:

Ah, the OG.

Ranging from being the most vanilla to literally breaking the bed and making the house shake. Most people’s go-to position and Marshall is no different.

He’s got full access to your face, neck, and breasts while he pounds you into the mattress, absolutely loves it and it’s no surprise.

Is eye contact a kink? He’ll be wanting to look you in the eyes no matter the pace you’re going. Additionally may often include forehead touching and/or nose nuzzling. Incredibly hot and intimate.

If he’s feeling extra curious or dominant, he might even push your legs back and over his shoulders to reach even deeper into you. (In other words, putting you in a mating press.) You ain’t walking for a few days after this. Catch his freaky ass all smug n shit.

Slow and intimate in this position is SO fulfilling. It’s like baring your souls to one another.

Going fast and rough is just straight up a joyride and a half. It feels carnal in the best way possible.

Overall you can’t fuck this up really. It’s missionary for crying out loud.

Doggystyle:

*clears throat* Ahem. BARK BARK WOOF WOOF

If you haven’t seen my fic Heat yet, it’s basically me writing smut for the first time in this position but taken to the next level. Should hint at a lot on what imma bout to say tbh

YES. HELL YES. PLEASE LET HIM RAM INTO YOU FROM BEHIND. HE’LL BE POUNDING INTO YOU SO FUCKING HARD

If you go face down on the bed, ass up? Holy shit

Expect bruises on your hips the next morning… also a very horny man ready to go again or to absolutely worship the fuck outta you for taking it so fucking amazingly

He'll be running a bath for you, being extra doting and attentive, the whole nine yards while also feeing that masculine satisfaction™ at the fact that he's able to get you to that state of bliss.

By far the most feral position. If he’s got a breeding kink I wish you luck on how many times you’re gonna come and he’s gonna come

If you’re also into taking it in the ass I respect you 👀 kinky motherfucker would love to explore some new ways to fuck

Pronebone is also basically the same as mentioned above, but it’s got that intimate feel, you get me? He’s closer to you whilst also able to attack your neck and shoulders, maybe even have a hot make out session with you while he continues to pound your pussy or ass raw.

As long as you love taking it from behind he’ll be on his knees for you. And on top of you.

Cowgirl/Reverse Cowgirl, You On Top:

Ride him. That’s all I gotta say.

He wants you to ride him. Fuck him silly. He’ll lose it.

It’s a perfect demonstration of him still being the dom. You may be on top, but he’s the one in control.

Might tease you by making you work hard for a reaction outta him. He’ll be pretending to be unimpressed or smug while you bounce in his lap but in reality he’s trying so hard not to break

Either that, or he won’t be holding back on how good you make him feel. Mouth open, quietly moaning, grabbing your ass or your hips.

If he can't take it anymore, he pulls you down to him and holds you tight while he starts bucking his hips, pounding up into you like a piston

Even once you both come he starts back up again before you've even calmed down

Oral (Giving and Receiving)/69:

I mean… are we really gonna question it? Yeah you better give this guy some head he is a slut for it

Give him a blowjob and he’ll be the happiest man alive

You watching his expressions as you’re sucking him off

Might take some practice to take all of him into your mouth cause this man is BIG

Even when he’s got loose sweatpants on you can still see his bulge AND IT’S NOT WHEN HE’S HARD AND HORNY. MARSHALL’S PACKING.

I wish you luck in trying to deepthroat this man

When it comes to oral, he definitely prefers receiving rather than giving

But don’t you DARE underestimate this man’s tongue cause holy fucking hell he’s feasting on your pussy

PLEASE let him suck on your clit while he’s eating you out. That man’s mouth is amazing in many ways for a reason

Imagine having to go out after and if anyone asks him if he wants anything to eat he just replies: “Nah I’m good. I had something earlier.” And then GIVING YOU THE SIDE EYE LOOK-

BEARD. BURN.

Let this man bury his face in between your thighs and imagine the friction of his beard brushing against your skin. If that doesn’t make you cum then him lapping you up will guaranteed

69 turns into a competition to see who can get the other to cum first, or a comforting session of tasting each other

Standing:

Y'all know he can do it pinning you against a wall. Thanks 8 Mile

As hot as it is, take care as not to have your head or back bang against it

Great for quickies but probably not for a long time; You gotta give his back a break lmao

Hugging your waist from behind tho :eyes:

Add a mirror on both opposite ends of the wall and you can watch him thrust into you

He's holding you real tight and close, making sure to hold you up so your legs won't buckle

Spooning:

Feelin real cozy

It can be lazy morning sex; Intimate and gentle as he places kisses behind your ear and buries his face into your neck while he does long, deep strokes in and out of your walls

Or it can be rough: Holding your thigh up while his hips violently thrust into you, only stilling when he comes after you

Another way is his cock slipping between your thighs and humping you eagerly, or his cock rutting against your ass

Push your hips back in time with his thrusts for deeper penetration or the sound of your skin slapping against each other

His hands clutching your hips or grabbing your breasts as he moans in your ear, feeling his cock twitching with his release

- - -

ALRIGHT TIME TO STOP HERE I’VE BEEN KEEPING THIS IN MY DRAFTS FOR MONTHS Anyways hope y’all enjoyed this and then some <3 I might come back to this and and more so who knows? If you enjoyed let me know your feedback and if you have any suggestions!

#eminem x reader #marshall mathers x reader #eminem imagines #eminem fanfiction #eminem imagine #eminem headcanons #eminem smut #marshall mathers fanfiction #marshall mathers x you #marshall mathers imagine #marshall mathers headcanons #marshall mathers smut

[imaginesig]

Dancing under the lights

Oscar Piastri x Ballerina!Reader smau

Platonic!Grid x Ballerina!Reader

These are just some insta posts that you/Oscar would make if he was dating a ballerina

yourusername

Liked by oscarpiastri, y/n_bestie, user5, and 24,097 others

yourusername: tis the season

tagged: y/n_bestie, y/n_friend

y/n_bestie I’m starting a Tchaikovsky hate club

yourusername count me in

y/n_friend1 same

user it’s been a week since Nutcracker rehearsals started and it’s already this had

user2 never underestimate the intensity of ballet

oscarpiastri stunning

yourusername aww love you oz🫶🫶

landonorris simp

landonorris can’t be that hard

yourusername says the one who goes vroom for a living

charles_leclerc 🩰🎄

maxverstappen1 Penelope can’t wait to see you!!

yourusername tell her I can’t wait to see her recital next week!!

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oscarpiastri

Liked by yourusername, logansargent, landonorris, and 89,242 others

oscarpiastri: one thing about me, I’m never gonna understand the process of prepping point shoes

tagged: yourusername

yourusername it’s ok babe, I learned what a DRS is you can learn this

oscarpiastri all that money just to cut and glue and crack them up???

maxverstappen1 should I be worried!

yourusername just think when the time comes, Penelope will have me as a guide

maxverstappen1 so should I be worried??

danielriccardo I HAVE to see this process now

y/n_bestie pointe shoes aren’t for the faint of heart

user1 don’t these cost a fortune??

user2 about that yea

user3 stop she’s so pretty even when destroying shoes

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yourusername

Liked by maxverstappen1, oscarpiastri, y/n_bestfriend, and 45,947 others

yourusername: My little baby angel is all grown up 🥹 I have never felt so honored as I did when she called me her idol and started this dance journey!! Beautiful Penelope I cannot wait to watch you grow and learn🩰🫶🧸

Tagged maxverstappen1, kellypiquet

oscarpiastri I think you cried more than her actual mom during this recital

charles_leclerc second to Max of course

oscarpiastri you could hear him 3 blocks away

maxverstappen1 this was a nice post celebrating P, how did we get here

yourusername Max always has to be number 1

kellypiquet she absolutely loved having your there!!! Thank you so much for coming

yourusername I adored every second of it

user1 your telling me that Penelope started dance because of y/n

user2 how did they even know each other?? Max and Oscar aren't even that close

user3 through Charles, she's a very popular ballerina and so when she posted a story dancing to one of his pieces they kept in touch-- I wouldn't be surprised if Charles drug Max out to watch her

user2 that's really sweet

user1 now you see why I'm crying over her influence on Penelope

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oscarpiastri

liked by yourusername, Charles_leclerc, user1 and 46, 368 others

oscarpiastri: I've never been more in awe of someone before than I am of you. Every new production you steal the audience with your beauty and grace, can't wait to see what the rest of the season holds. To my favorite Sugar Plum fairy, I love you

tagged yourusername

yourusername aww oz 🥹 you're sweeter than all the people in the Kingdom of Sweets

y/n_bestie wow high compliment

oscarpiastri I know 😎

yourusername love ya both 💖💖

landonorris booo sap

yourusername what if you just 🤸🏻🚊

landonorris this is cyberbullying

danielriccardo ya'll see sum 🧑🏻‍🦯🙈

user1 the betrayal is unmatched

yourusername always a good day when Danny Ric is on your side

charles_leclerc beautiful production!!

yourusername number 1 ballet fan has entered the chat

maxverstappen1 Penelope hasn't stopped talking about this all weekend

user2 awww this is adorable

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yourusername

liked by y/n_bestie, lilymhe, y/n_friend, and 23,938 others

yourusername: Sugar Plum Fairy, you've been a dream!! A special shoutout to @/y/n_bestie for being rock through it all, from party guests, to soldiers, to flowers and so many more 🩵🩰 It has been a wild season getting to live out my dream Nutcracker role. Let's see what else is in store...

tagged y/n_bestie, y/n_dancecompany

y/n_bestie IM LITERALY CRYING

y/n_bestie I love you so much 💖💖 its been an absolute honor to grow with you!!

yourusername my favorite Arabian sololist!! I love you much

lilymhe I will never not be impressed by you

yourusername awww I love you bby

lilymhe 😩🤭

alex_albon Oscar come get your girl

oscarpiastri 🫣

user1 stop not them dancing together since chilhood

y/n_friend the last slide 💀💀

oscarpiastri talented, brilliant, incredible, amazing, show stopping, spectacular, never the same, totally unique

yourusername who taught him this bc I know damn well it wasn't me 🤔

landonorris @/logansargent

logansargent 🤷🏼‍♂️

charles_leclerc eagerly awaiting the spring run...

youruserame 🤫

y/n_bestie 🫢

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oscarpiastri

liked by user4, mclaren, logansargent, and 97,379 others

oscarpiastri: what a season! Thank you so much Mclaren for helping me create an unforgettable rookie season-- cheers to winter break before its back to the grind 🥂🧡

tagged mclaren, yourusername

mclaren thats our rookie of the year 🏆

landonorris what a ride mate

yourusername so, so proud!!

oscarpiastri ❤️❤️

y/n_bestie she may be supportive but I'm not, why is this INCREDIBLE picture of my girl LAST

user3 get his ass girl

oscarpiastri In my defense I had to thank the job that paid me to take her on a trip

y/n_bestie you better be planning more posts

oscarpiastri pinky promise I do

youruserman did she just threaten you through instagram comments

landonorris your bf's a pussy remember

user1 my addiction can't handle winter break

user2 already started my countdown

load more

yourusername

liked by

yourusername: "we can leave the Christmas lights up til January"

tagged oscarpiastri, y/n_dancecompany

y/n_dancecompany new year, new routines

y/n_bestie take notes @/oscarpiastri you were the first two slides...

oscarpiastri how many stories and posts have I made of her since break started

user1 NOT HER HOLDING A GRUDGE

y/n_friend first one back to the studio I see

yourusername guilty 🫠

oscarpiastri I enjoyed our winter wonderland

yourusername I love you oz

oscarpiatri I love you too

landonorris bleh 🤢

danielriccardo you dropped this 🔴 put it back on your nose 🤡🥰

user3 who is teaching them these things??

user9 my sneaking suspicion is Logan

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yourusername

liked by kellypiquet, y/n_bestie, danielriccardo, and 45,083 others

yourusername: a kiss can awaken the deepest of dreams ✨🩰🌙

tagged: y/n_dancecompany, y/n_dancepartner

user9 this is so aesthetic I could cry

yourusername I didn't come to mess around

y/n_bestie I cannot wait to put a spell on you

yourusername love my maleficent 💚

oscarpiastri come to a grand prix and you'll spend more time in bed than sleeping beauty 😉

yourusername i'd let you kiss me awake 😏

maxverstappen1 my daughter looks up to you, please stop

danielriccardo wheres Lando with his comments when you need him

landonorris im gonna drink bleach

oscarpiastri you had to summon him didnt you

kellypiquet P can't wait to play little Aurora alongside you

yourusername I wouldn't want anyone else to play little me!! 🩵🩵

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oscarpiastri

liked by mclaren, y/n_bestie, landonorris, and 76,283 others

oscarpiastri: that moment when you girl has a killer opening weekend and you get a podium!! @/yourusername thank you for a beautiful week capped off with 2 big weekends. I love you more than words can tell ❤️

tagged mclaren, yourinstagram, y/n_dancecompany

yourusername awww oz I love you to the moon and back

oscarpiastri who's cutting onions

landonorris if y'all don't get married rn I swear ill fall asleep in oncoming traffic

youruserman oh 😃

oscarpiastri mate...

danielriccardo what a drastic change of attitude

y/n_bestie glad to see you've sorted out your priorities

mclaren we agree

oscarpiastri wow I don't even have admin on my side

user4 aww stop this is adorable

user8 the schedules lining up perfectly is a gift from the dance and F1 gods

user5 fr fr

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yourusername

liked by oscarpiastri, y/n_bestie, y/n_dancecompany, and 101,012 others

yourusername: one thing I was never taught why how hard this goodbye is. I've called this company home since I was 4 alongside the best girl in the whole world. I learned so much about dancing, myself, and life. Taking my final bow after Sleeping Beauty I couldn't help but shed a tear- I'm sad to say goodbye to my home and my ballet family, but I'm happy to dance on and make them proud. Thank you for helping me grow and spread my wings 🩵🩰✨

tagged: y/n_bestie, y/n_dancecompany

y/n_bestie I never would've thought the hardest thing I had to do was let you chase your dreams 💖

yourusername youre not far behind 💖

oscarpiastri you are incredible, I love you so much ❤️❤️

yourusername thank you so much for all your support even when it was hard and you had your own career going on ❤️ I love you so so much

landonorris since our introduction, I've only grown more and more as a fan. You have great determination, skill, grace, work ethic, and so many more things I admire, I can't wait to see ho you grow in the next steps

yourusername aww lando, I'm so touched 🥹🧡

charles_leclerc you're going to conquer whoever comes next

yourusername Merci pour votre soutien

*thank you for your support*

charles_leclerc 💖💖

comments have been limited

oscarpiastri

liked by landonorris, mclaren, your username, and 23,088 others

oscarpiatri: i remember when we first met, we would spend late nights talking about our dreams-- its insane to have accomplished them together. You cheered me on throughout my F1 journey and I'm excited to see your first solo in the theatre you've always dreamed of! Break a leg my beautiful dancer ❤️

tagged: your username, newdancecompany

yourusername I'm crying in rehearsals rn

yourusername I love you so much oz ❤️

oscarpiastri I love you too love

landonorris sap

danielriccardo HE'S BACK

landonorris they still need to be endgame tho

user5 he's just like us fr

user1 "my beautiful dancer"

user2 IM CRYING

charles_leclerc the amount of times I almost spilled the surprise

yourusername the wait is almost up

oscarpiastri should I be scared?

maxverstappen1 we cannot wait!! P has been jumping off the walls for this performance

Load more

yourusername

liked by newdancecompany, oscarpiatri, y/n_bestie, and 89,283 others

yourusername: "growing often feels like breaking at first" - a farewell quote from my very first dance teacher.

Tonight I debuted with a new dance company, my second one in all my 22 years of life. Thank you so much Charles for composing a piece that speaks what I cannot. This performance is dedicated to past me, her company, her mentors, her friends, and her supporters. I chose to keep the costuming simple, seeing as I don't feel as complete without them just yet.

I cannot wait to keep growing and dancing with every part of me.

tagged: charles_leclerc, newdancesompany

y/n_dancecompany its an absolute honor to have had you, and an even bigger one to have lost you

yourusermane forever the home of my childhood

oscarpiastri I cannot wait to watch you grow, hopefully forever

yourusername definitely forever

charles_leclerc thank YOU for bringing out the emotion and life in this piece, I've been bouncing off the walls waiting to see the final product. You've made me into your number 1 fan

yourusername we make a pretty good team

oscarpiatri not to break up a sweet moment but this weekend Lelcerc is on site, Im her number 1 fan

maxverstappen1 you didn't leave one dry eye in the place!

kellypiquet i was truly moved by the art you put on stage tonight, you've got a long successful road ahead

yourusername 😭🫶🫶

landonorris you amaze me more and more every dance, best honorary little sister I could ask for

yourusername and I though you'd keep the sister thing private sap

y/n_bestie I never imagined the pain of watching you dance from the audience and not the wings, but I also never imagined the joy in my chest watching you fly like you did tonight. Remember no matter where you go and how much more famous you become, you will always be my best friend.

yourusername in all these years, the best choice I ever made was talking to the girl next to me with the pink dress 💖 I would be nowhere without you, I truly owe all my accomplishments to you and your unwavering support 🫶🫶

comments have been limited

oscarpiastri posted a story

caption: its you and me forever @/yourusername

#oscar piastri #Oscar Piastri x reader #Oscar Piastri smau #formula 1 smau #f1 smau #landonorris #Charles leclerc #Oscar Piastri imagines #formula 1 x reader #f1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #f1 imagine

[cherubfae]

Hello! I'm not sure if you do single characters or not but What if the reader (who's a big fan of horror) wanted to show Alastor some classic horror movies. Their reasoning? "So you can make fun of it," If you do a collection of characters, then it can be like a movie night for the hotel.

Hiya love!! Yes, I do! In fact I'm currently working on a longer Alastor fic at the moment :)) it's like this request was made for me bc I 100% will force Alastor to watch the Scream franchise with me 😭 it's my fave. I'm a mega horror fan, haha! Maybe I'll have to write for slashers again like I used to! I'll just write Al since he deserves some love for himself!! Pls excuse me bc now I'm gonna be thinking about 1920s GhostFace Alastor 😩😩🩷💕

What's Your Favorite Scary Movie? || Alastor x reader

tags: fluff, gn!reader, Alastor critiquing horror media, plot to the Scream franchise, my horror obsession might be showing lmao

Getting Alastor to have anything to do with post 1930s technology was a task and a half. He might've made a deal with Vaggie not to have anything to do with such frivolous technology, but you weren't Vaggie. You were his sweet, dear partner. And he'd never admit just how tightly wrapped he was around your finger.

He seemed to genuinely enjoy the first few Halloween movies as well as the first Texas Chainsaw Massacre. Alastor took a great of interest with Hannibal Lector from The Silence of Lambs. He was deeply considering watching the television series you told him of. He thinks Freddy Krueger is a piece of shit and wished he could do him in with his own hands.

The next movie, however, seemed more susceptible to being torn to pieces by his ever-watchful eye.

"So the point of this picture show is what... Billy is angry because his mother abandoned him and he doesn't know how to deal with those big feelings at his age?" Alastor gives an indignant snort, looking bemused at the old television screen currently playing a VHS of Wes Craven's 1996 slasher classic Scream. That's as new of tech as Alastor would allow, so you made do.

Snorting out a laugh, you lean against his arm. Alastor's crackling gaze flickers to you his smile softening around the edges. He did very much adore your laugh.

"That about sums it up, yes," you grin, biting down on the corner of your chocolate bar.

Alastor leans his back against the sofa, pulling the blanket wrapped around you two closer. "I don't know how that Macher boy thinks that peer pressure is a justifiable defense for murdering people." He unwraps his own piece of bitter chocolate and pops it into his mouth. "Own up to your choices, for Heaven's sake. And people find these two attractive? Are they not in love with one another? Surely anyone with two good working eyes could see this."

The sixth Scream movie damn near has Alastor foaming at the mouth, each and every movie felt as repetitive as the last with slight twists and changes. He was polite to keep most critiques to himself, eyeing how much you clearly enjoyed showing something so near and dear to your heart. While the plot was rather lackluster, he had to admit he was interested in the severe brutality of the sixth and despite his opposition to new media, felt that it was a decent enough film. With such a repetitive storyline, he didn't really expect that sort of twist.

"There's one more we can watch!" You grin, holding up your copy of Scary Movie. Alastor's eyes look ready to pop out of his skull as if to say 'Oh god, another??' "I don't think you'll guess who the GhostFace is!"

"Is it the man called Doofy?"

|| I DON'T GIVE PERMISSION FOR MY WORKS TO BE REPOSTED, RESHARED, OR EDITED. TUMBLR IS MY ONLY ACCOUNT AND THE ONLY PLACE WHERE I POST MY WRITING. ALL CHARACTERS BELONG TO THEIR RIGHTFUL OWNERS, THE STORY BELONGS TO ME. || CHERUBFAE © 2024

"What the fuck-- how."

#hazbin hotel imagines #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin imagines #hazbin alastor x reader #alastor x reader #alastor imagine #alastor headcanons #cherubfae 2024

[lqvesoph]

the bosses daughter - LN4

summary: social media au where fans are speculating whether lando and zak brown's daughter are dating or not

Masterlist | Taglist

location: The Royal Golf Club

liked by: landonorris, lilymhe, carlossainz55 and 65.837 others

ynbrown: Screw university, I will become a professional golfer

comments:

landonorris: Uhm...

→ ynbrown: Heyyyy!!

fan: Yn going golfing with Lando???

→ carlossainz55: More like Yn going on a golf date with Lando

fan: LMAOOO CARLOS' COMMENT

fan: Are they actually dating?

→ fan: No, they're just joking around. Ever since she turned 18 people have been shipping her and Lando

lilymhe: I'll join next time

→ ynbrown: YES PLEASE, this way Lando won't think he's a pro just cause he's winning against me (but please bring Alex so I won't feel too bad)

→ landonorris: I can take you on, Lily

→ ynbrown: Uh-

→ lilymhe: I accept the challenge (and will do)

→ alexalbon: Name the time and date

fan: So Alex, Lily, Lando and Yn are going on a double date now huh?

load more comments...

tagged: landonorris

liked by: charlesleclerc, mclaren, landonorris and 76.462 others

ynbrown: Stop stealing my job

comments:

landonorris: Never

fan: Aww, that's cute

fan: Yn once again providing us with good content

→ ynbrown: I'm at your service

fan: Why are they at the track already?

→ fan: Pre season testing

fan: These pictures of Lando are adorable

fan: She's literally McLaren's unofficial photographer

→ fan: TRUE

load more comments...

ynbrown's instagram story

fan: Yn soft launching??

fan: Wait so they're dating??

fan: She's McLaren's photographer, so it also could be for the team

→ fan: Lando doing a shirtless workout somewhere on a beach in Bahrain? I don't think so

fan: They would be mad cute together tho

tagged: landonorris

liked by: isahernandez, mclaren, landonorris and 77.256 others

ynbrown: "Trust me, we won't be late"

comments:

mclaren: *proceed to be 30 minutes late*

→ ynbrown: Blame Lando

landonorris: You took ages in the bathroom!!

→ ynbrown: Did not

fan: Why were you late?

→ ynbrown: Lando's quite hard to get out of bed

fan: They arrived late TOGETHER???

→ fan: Jep...

fan: Wait so lemme sum this up: Yn tried getting Lando out of bed and he complains that she takes long in the bathroom and then they arrived late together

→ fan: That's about correct

→ fan: This just screams dating tbh

→ fan: Why else would they know these things then?

carlossainz55: You're not doing anything to try and hide it...

→ fan: Carlos knowsssss

load more comments...

tagged: landonorris, ynbrown

liked by: ynbrown, landonorris, isahernandez and 65.527 others

kymillman: LANDO AND YN

the McLaren boss' daughter and the driver arrived, just like yesterday, together. Yes, today they were on time.

Yn is not only Zak Brown's daughter. The 19 year old has a special passion for photography and snaps candids from the paddock, so fans have been calling her the unofficial McLaren photographer. Apart from that, she's currently studying at the University of Barcelona in Spain where she's been living with her mother most of her life.

comments:

ynbrown: Lando was late, it wasn't my fault

→ landonorris: Shut upppp

fan: She's so pretty omg

fan: Are they dating??

→ fan: No

→ fan: Not officially at least

fan: They would be hella cute together

fan: I'm jealous of her tbh

→ fan: She's got the best life

fan: I lowkey ship them

load more comments...

tagged: landonorris, ynbrown

liked by 56.729 people

landoupdates: Lando and Yn in the paddock before the race

comments:

fan: Her smile is so beautiful

→ fan: She is so beautiful

fan: What's that girl doing so close to my boyfriend??

→ fan: PLEASE LMAOOO

→ fan: You're embarrassing yourself, she's Zak's daughter

fan: Why they being so close suddenly?

→ fan: She probably wants the fame

→ fan: She's Zak's Brown daughter, I think she has the fame already lmaoo

load more comments...

tagged: ynbrown

liked by 32.726 people

ynbrown.daily: Yn in Bahrain taking a photo with a fan

comments:

fan: That jackets looks a bit big on her, doesn't it?

fan: Is that Lando's jacket?

fan: Where was this picture taken?

→ fan: At the hotel, after they came back from the track

fan: That in fact it's Lando's jacket. I was there.

→ fan: DETAILS??

→ fan: They came back together and took some pictures with fans. He gave her the jacket cause she was cold, it was really cute

fan: Yn's smile is so pretty

load more comments...

tagged: landonorris

liked by: mclaren, pierregasly, landonorris and 78.527 others

ynbrown: Some snaps from today, bring on the race tomorrow

comments:

fan: Petition for McLaren to hire Yn as their official photographer

→ fan: Where do I sign?

→ fan: Yes please!!

→ landonorris: If that means she could be at every race, I'll sign too!!

fan: Lando's comment aww

fan: Lando wants her around all the time, that's so cute

fan: I missed you in Jeddah, will you be in Melbourne?

→ ynbrown: Yess!!

→ danielricciardo: FINALLY, I've missed you

→ ynbrown: I've missed you too, my boo

load more comments...

ynbrown's Instagram story

landonorris' Instagram story

fan: Wait are Lando and Y/n together in Sydney??

→ fan: Probably, their stories seem to be in the same place

fan: Lando's story seems to be taken at the same location as Y/n's...

fan: Whoop, that's Y/n in Lando's second story

→ fan: They are dating FOR SURE

fan: He didn't even tag her cause we all would recognize her even without hahahah

fan: This and the shirtless picture she posted of Lando back in Bahrain... cmonnnn

fan: I know people have been shipping them for ages but like... it's pretty obvious now isn't it?

--

Taglist

#lando norris #lando norris one shot #lando norris blurb #lando norris imagine #lando norris fluff #formula 1 imagine #f1 #lando norris x you #lando norris x reader #lando norris x y/n #mclaren #lando norris x brown!reader

[moonlight1110]

My Best Friend, König

bestfriend!König x reader ; college!au

Your best friend, the person you trust the most in the world to protect you, and most importantly, be there for your needs <3

Tags: afab!reader, König x reader smut, throat fucking, blowjobs n shit, smut to fluff, far from canon König, quick read, college!au, secret lovers, aftercare, no german aside from the petnames bc i dont wanna embarrass myself, not proofread

Notes: exams are done so i can finally shake sum asss 😩, i have so many ideas i wanna write for simon and konig im going insane, but expect that in the next few days or weeks, love yall <3

You were always known as the loud mouth. The most bubbly person anyone's ever met, and it was often meant as a compliment. You always knew how to light up a room the moment you walked in and it just seemed like no one ever had anything bad to say about you.

It seemed like you were able to catch anyone's eye, and that was reflected by the amount of attention you got whenever you would walk around campus. Turning heads and whispers followed you whenever you went, and that was especially true in your classes. But with your extroverted nature, it was a question in everyone's mind why your best friend was the total opposite of you.

König was your best friend, it was like you were both attached at the hip with how you never went anywhere without him to the point that people thought you were a couple. You two would debunk these rumors of course but that just showed how close you two were.

König was quiet, introverted, and intimidating, he was like the perfect bodyguard and that was one of the reasons you loved being around him, because of how safe he made you feel and how he always made sure you were okay, of course it was natural that you'd return the favor.

"K-König... Wait..." A soft moan slips past your lips, you can't hold it in with how good König was fucking you on his tongue right now. He chuckles, humming against your weeping cunt as he pinned your hips down on the mattress, one hand digging into the flesh of your hip as the other rubbed circles right on your twitching clit.

"You want me to stop, meine Schatz?" His voice dripped with desire and cockiness, knowing he was the only one who could see you in such a vulnerable and fucked out position with your legs trembling and draped over his shoulders as he ate you out and fucked you open on his tongue and fingers.

"No... No, don't stop!" you cried out helplessly, tugging at his hair. He growled, sliding his tongue out from your cunt with a satisfied moan from the pressure building in his scalp.

"On your knees, let me fuck that pretty mouth, meine Liebe..." He groaned, gently pulling your hand away from his hair and kissing your palm as he led you off the bed and on your knees in front of him, making space for you between his legs as he stroked himself in front of you. Up and down, slowly.

He was big and it made your mouth water as you inched closer on your knees. You couldn't help the small gasp that slipped when you slowly wrapped your delicate fingers around him.

"That's it... You know what to do..." He chuckled, intertwining his fingers with your hair to encourage you while he looked down at you with a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.

"Scheiße... Such a good fucking girl..." König's voice seemed to deepen at the feeling of your soft hands slowly pumping him, his grip on your hair becoming just a little bit tighter as he moaned your name, throwing his head back in ecstasy.

You could feel the heat pooling between your legs when König looked down at you, his eyes blown out with his lip between his teeth and it was clear he was resisting the urge to buck his hips into your mouth, force his dick right into the back of your throat with the way you were doing such a good job for him.

When you slowly wrapped your lips around him, he moaned breathlessly, his shoulders slumping at the feeling of your warm mouth around him. You couldn't help but close your eyes as you started to take him deeper, it was just too much, but he didn't like that at all.

"No, no... Keep your pretty eyes open... Keep looking at me..." He tugged on your hair lightly, forcing you to wince at the pressure but you followed his words of course. When your eyes fluttered open, you were met with the sight of König's chest heaving softly, his mouth opened just a bit as he groaned.

"Ja, that's it... Good girl..." He chuckled, humming as his grip on your hair softened, replacing it with a gentle massage on your scalp as you took him deeper, keeping your eyes on him the whole time.

Your started to bob your head in a steady rhythm, pumping the rest of the length you couldn't take. König, as much as he tried his best to keep his composure, was a mess for you. His chest was heaving and low growls would rumble from his chest every once in a while when his hips would buck into your mouth ever so slightly.

"Can I fuck this pretty mouth, baby? Please..." He pleaded as if he was even waiting for an answer, almost sounding like a drawn out whine when he started to buck his hips into your mouth, he just couldn't help himself, he couldn't resist you at all when you looked so pretty for him.

Your hands found purchase on his thighs, nails digging into his flesh as your eyes rolled into the back of your head when he started to push his cock deeper into your throat, making you gag on him.

"Feels so fucking good, Liebling... I can't help myself..." He moaned as he threw his head back, he was getting rougher now, giving you his cock deeper and deeper as he whispered his praises, telling you how good you are and how much he'll reward his darling after he's done.

Your jaw was starting to hurt, and despite his early instructions, you couldn't help but close your eyes as he pushed your head down with a deep groan. Your fingers were digging into his flesh that you were certain it'd bruise by the morning, but even with how your jaw was starting to get sore and with how your tears were staining your cheeks, you just fucking loved it.

"Shh, shh... You're doing so good, Schatz..." He cooed with a mean chuckle as he wiped your tears away with his thumb. What a gentle man your friend was, carefully pulling your head from his cock as he praised you. "Breathe, baby..." He whispered as he caressed your cheeks, letting you catch your breath as your hands relaxed on his thighs.

"Sorry... I couldn't stop myself..." He apologized after a few moments, carefully picking you up from the cold floor and onto his lap in a bridal position almost. "Was I too rough, Liebling?" He whispered affectionately, gently caressing your thighs as he pressed a soft kiss to your cheek as you nestled your head against his shoulder.

"Nothing I couldn't handle" You laughed quietly, relaxing in the warmth his body provided while his hands soothed your thighs and hips.

"You're right... You did so well, like you always do" He chuckled against your hair, kissing your head with a hum.

"Let me take care of you tonight, darling... You deserve it"

#könig #cod mw2 #colonel könig #kortac #call of duty #modern warfare #konig x reader #cod konig #konig mw2 #konig x you #konig modern warfare #konig #konig x reader smut #konig headcanons #konig smut #smut #one shot #x reader #female reader #i want his dick so far down my throat it leaves bruises

[kquil]

DIVORCING ORION BLACK | CHAPTER ONE

01 : ARRIVAL

SERIES SUM. : (A Marauders Era Fix-It-Fic - featuring Reader as Walburga Black but better)

You wake up in pitch blackness and under excruciating pain. It isn't too long before you realise that you've been transported into the world of Harry Potter…and you've taken the place of a familiar villainess - Walburga Black. You need to escape this toxic family. The first order of business is Divorce AND YOU'RE DEFINITELY TAKING THE KIDS!

CHPT. SUM. : you take a familiar villainess' place, but it's all just a dream, right?

TAGS. : son sirius black/mother reader ; son regulus black/mother reader ; marauders fix-it-fic ; transferring into harry potter series (marauders era) au ; reader is a harry potter fan ; but not a JKR fan ; walburga black is no more ; or is she? ; pre-marauders era ; sirius black is an angry child ; regulus black is a precious baby ; big brother sirius being a little jealous ; mentions of child abuse (not explicit) ; orion black can eat dirt ; kreacher is a precious bean ; not canon compliant ; the journey begins! 

LENGTH : 6.3k

1st August 1971

Your eyes snap open to opaque darkness as a silent scream escapes you. Pain. Excruciating and tormenting pain rips your head in two and paralyses the rest of your body. You want to call for help, desperate for relief but words fail you. It’s as if someone had lacerated your throat and ran away with your mangled vocal cords. Overwhelmed by the pressure in your head, you quickly surrender and fall into the mouth of the hungry blackness encompassing you. 

The next time you wake up, you were almost blissfully unaware of the agony you previously awoke to if you weren’t sorely reminded by the lingering compression in your ears, an, almost, unbearable pounding ache in your skull, and the paralysis of your limbs. Your shaky breaths sound amplified in your ringing ears as you slowly regain control of your desensitised appendages but the stabbing sensation against your skull persists. It doesn’t appear to want to dull out unlike most continuous pains. In a desperate effort to mute the throbbing, you curl up into the foetal position and focus on your breathing, your hands clutching at the temporal and parietal areas of your head. After a while, there’s some relief. Sweet relief.

The darkness remains as obscure and daunting as you had first awoken to, a dead, unfeeling space — like a black hole. But it can’t be that. It can’t be a black hole. You hope it isn’t, at least. There has to be a way out of here. 

With great effort and a groan of pain, you get onto your hands and knees, suffering through agonising aches as you feel about the space around you. All the objects you come into contact with are insignificant, too ordinary for your brain to comprehend and speculate over — though the unrelenting throbbing in your skull may be of probable cause to your lack of analysis — it came with one reassuring thought however, their existence was evidence enough that this wasn’t a black hole…

What poor thoughts. 

You’ve never been so vapid. The thoughts swirling in your head were so lacking in cognition and inference that you instinctually shook your head in disappointment. A black hole? Impossible! —Unless you were launched into space in between the meeting with your investors and your journey home. Were you drugged? Taken hostage? If you were then why weren’t your limbs tied up? Eventually, your trembling hands find a wall, a small success that you quickly take advantage of, tracing the perimeter of the boxy room, hoping to find a doorway or vent, anything that could lead you to freedom. You probably look pathetic crawling around but there weren’t any traces of light, even a locked box was more illuminated than this. 

Your rambling thoughts continue, a distraction from the throbbing in your skull, until you feel it. A break in the wall, the border to a door. You didn’t waste any time and ignored all pains to stand and feel out the space for the doorknob, leaning your weight against the wooden entrance to alleviate your weak limbs. Disoriented and brainless — were you terribly hungover or something? More speculations, more unanswered questions but finally a release to freedom! The door relented and gave way as you finally found its handle, pushing down with your weight and tumbling towards freedom. 

The light burned your eyes and made you tear up but the relief of liberty was soothing. The throbbing, stabbing pains in your skull were now replaced by a reeling dizziness and it throws you off balance. But your hand catches the wall to steady you while your other clutches at your head; your disorientation grows and grows. It feels like you were tied to the end of a string and spun around as the length of the string gradually increases, giving the sensation of your mushy brain being stretched out. What in the world have you done to be put through this amount of distress and trauma? 

Curling your fingers into your head, you try to distract from the sickening dizziness with grounding pain and search for repose but are given none. Just as your nails begin to claw at your scalp as your other hand gropes at unfamiliar, drab wallpaper, a voice calls out to you. It’s small and confused, full of light and youth — it’s a child’s voice. 

“Mother?…”

Turning to the hesitant call, you lock eyes with steel grey pools. It’s a little boy. Maybe eight to nine years of age. He has beautiful short black hair, pale skin and angular features but childishly soft cheeks. His formal-like dress and perfect posture makes him look like a little prince. You don’t answer him right away; too distracted with your curious surveillance so he calls to you again with furrowed brows and the same title on his tongue, ‘mother’. 

He was talking to you. Strange…

“Did you just call me ‘mother’?” you ask, he doesn’t answer and you try not to wince, still very light-headed and muddled, “Why?”

“Because you are my mother,” the stare he affixes you with makes it obvious that he thinks you’re a crazy person. No, but he’s the crazy one!

“Are you okay mother?” another, almost identical looking boy walks up and stands beside the first. He, too, has beautiful black hair and pale skin but with much softer features so he must be younger than the first. They wear a similar attire —another little prince. Two little princes, brothers, that view you as their mother. 

But that’s impossible…

The younger of the two has an air of politeness surrounding him as he watches you with empathy swimming in his grey pools. In clear objection to the compassion his younger brother was willing to give you, the eldest child subtly squints at your crumpled and distressed figure. 

“I don’t have children…” your weak voice states but fails to continue, bewildered but confident in the fact although it breaks your heart. It just slipped out and now the two boys were stiff and tense from head to toe. 

Quickly shaking off his rigid limbs, the older brother scowls at you, “as much as we don’t want to be your children, we are!” his tone his biting as he speaks with a snarl, his pristine white teeth bared for defence and attack. With stomping footfalls, the duo run away, fleeing your sight in a blur of blacks, whites and greys. As soon as they’re gone, your dizziness hits you once more, like a boulder to the head, and sends you collapsing into the ground. 

Again, your world goes pitch black. 

2nd August 1971

There’s no spiralling darkness when you next wake up, nor is there an abundance of lamplight to make your eyes tear up, instead, beautiful golden rays of sunlight fall through the tall glass windows behind you. It was a much easier radiance to adjust to. You’re tucked away in bed, silky, comfortable and perfectly warm. Perhaps yesterday was just a dream, a very vivid dream— no, a nightmare. You let out a groan and squeeze your eyes shut. No matter how long it’s been, your thoughts of failure and self hatred over your own incompetence still haunts you. Curling up under the covers, you go through the breathing exercise your therapist imbued into you. 

Acknowledge it, accept it, let it go…

The phrase repeats in your head several times. The longer you rehearse it, the more your limbs unfurl until you’re flat on your back once more. 

…rigid.

Now that you think about it, was your bed always this…stiff?

Blinking in confusion, your eyes focus on the ceiling and widen. You don’t have a chandelier in your bedroom. Your eyes quickly jump down and examine the bed you lay in. This wasn’t your bed, no. Where were your Hedwig and Niffler plushies? Your all-white sheets were gone and replaced by all-black covers. It was then that you finally comprehend the cool sensation laying against your forehead, jolting your body forward, you let out a yelp of surprise as the small soaked towel falls from your brow. 

Your shocked shriek is almost matched by the bawling that accompanies it, drawing your eyes to a being you’ve only seen in movies. The small house-elf stares at you with shaking, blood-shot eyes and unaltered terror folded into his wrinkly expression. Endless apologies fall from his mouth, sincere and all underpinned by intense anxiety. He’s so real; his small, skeletal-like chest rapidly moving up and down due to his desperate pants. His three-dimensional existence quickly falls and kneels before you to commence grovelling, his shaking hands held together in prayer.  

“...Kreacher…” you gape at the house-elf, eyes wide and breath caught in your throat. In disbelief over the elf’s actuality, you reach out for him, awestruck and so dazed that you almost miss how he flinches away from your approaching touch. Apologetic, you retreat your hand and adjust yourself to sit against the headboard before addressing him, “I-I wasn’t going to hit you…”

“Kreacher is needing to be hit, mistress,” the contrite house-elf voices, twiddling his thumbs as he remains knelt down. 

Mistress…?

“Please stand, Kreacher,” you neglect to perceive his surprise in your use of the word ‘please’ as you’re still in awe of him yourself. With a subtle shake of your head, you do your best to push away your astonishment in search of answers, “and fetch me a mirror,” 

Kreacher promptly clicks his fingers and a handheld mirror appears before you. You try not to awe at the demonstration of magic — it's a simple spell in this world — and proceed to take it in your hesitant hands. Judging from what you have been able to gather, Kreacher calling you mistress and the two young boys addressing you as mother…Walburga Black should be the reflection staring back at you. However, you don’t see a black-haired, cold-eyed, pale-skinned woman, with a constant frowning wrinkle on her brow, you see yourself. You touch your face just to make sure you weren’t mistaken. It is you. 

Was this just a vivid dream? It feels so real… 

Mirror set aside, you look back at Kreacher and are astonished once more at seeing just how alive he is. His mannerisms were completely authentic and he was solid from all sides. There’s no mistaking that he’s right in front of you, tangible and no longer fictional. 

What wonders the mind can achieve when you fangirl and nerd out enough over something… But why aren’t you in the Lightening era timeline? And why are you in Walburga’s shoes? Now you’re the mother of Sirius and Regulus Black… The questions don’t stop, nor do the conjectures. Maybe it’s your mind trying to get over your life’s trauma vicariously through your favourite series and fandom… the notionmade some sense. You, not only, have one son but two. Should you feel elated or anxious?

As your thoughts continue, the apologies falling from Kreacher’s lips slowly get louder and louder until you snap out of your spaced-out state. Guilt quickly gathers in your stomach at the realisation that Kreacher had been vocally repentant this whole time and you haven’t yet acknowledged him in the slightest. 

“What are you apologising for, Kreacher?” you finally ask, putting a stop to his penitent speech. 

“Kreacher did not realise mistress had the sickness; Kreacher did not serve her well,” his tone was incredibly apologetic and there was no mistaking the panic in his eyes. 

“...It’s alright Kreacher,” the reassurance in your voice was something the house-elf was not used to and you almost smile at the explicit amazement in his eyes, “I did not know that I was ill, myself, so thank you for taking care of me when I fainted,” your warm smile confuses the house-elf but you continue. Even though this is a dream, you were going to do things right, “it was you who took care of me, correct?” 

His astonishment doesn’t leave his eyes as he nods, slack-jawed and meek, “yes..it was Kreacher, mistress,”

You nod in approval and spot a plate of food in your periphery, set neatly atop the bedside table, “thank you, Kreacher. You are dismissed,” the bashful but, still, misery-stricken house-elf goes to say something, glancing over at the bedside table but you promptly cut him off, “I will eat the food you prepared shortly, thank you, again,”

With a simple nod, Kreacher disappears in a blink and you slowly bring the plate of breakfast onto your lap. Eating in bed, you digest your situation and take in your surroundings. This was all a very realistic dream but a dream nonetheless. And it was a chance for you to, not only do right by the characters you adore but make peace with your past and present. This was a second chance. Even if it was only a dream. 

Just as you finish up your plate of breakfast, you also conclude your examination of the supposed ‘master bedroom’ and frown. The disapproval is clear in your furrowed brows, narrowed eyes and pursed lips.

Whoever designed this room needs to be demoted…or fired. 

The Blacks were such a wealthy family, surely they had more saved up to be able to hire a decent interior designer. The colours blended into each other and no furniture, wallpaper or trinket could bring you any emotion other than despair. With that disappointing thought and a grimace at the, overall, sombre decor of the room, you turn to place your clean plate back on the nightstand when a rolled up piece of paper catches your eye. Innocuously folded and tucked to the left of where your breakfast plate once laid was a newspaper, the Daily Prophet. Hurriedly exchanging your plate and utensils for the paper, your anticipation rose to witness the infamous articles and its moving pictures. You almost couldn’t stop the schoolgirl giggle from escaping your smiling lips. Never before had you been so excited to read the paper. 

Unfolding the pages, you awe at the front cover before quickly skimming the rest of the folio. It’s the real thing and it’s so detailed…even for a dream. 

It was written in clear script on the top, right hand side of the front page. 2nd August 1971. There was no doubt in your mind now that you were just about to enter the Marauders era timeline. If you weren’t mistaken, this was the summer leading up to Sirius’ first year at Hogwarts, which meant that, as his mother — the notion was still abnormal to you but also incredibly heartwarming —, you had a duty to help him fetch his school supplies for Hogwarts. You would also have the honour of seeing him receive his own wand before helping him buy his uniform robes and other necessities. You would even help him pack his bags for Hogwarts, congratulate and celebrate his achievements with him, wish him a good day, support him unconditionally… everything a loving and present mother would do. And, of course, you would treat Regulus the same way. It makes your heart sing and butterflies flutter about in your stomach; you get to be a mother. 

—one moment… 

If the date is correct in the newspaper and you’re right in that Sirius would be attending Hogwarts in a month’s time, then why did he appear one to two years younger than what an eleven-year-old should look like?

Pondering over the question makes you grimace. It’s entirely possible that it could be Walburga and Orion’s doing, Sirius definitely has a defiant manner about him despite only being eleven years of age and it wouldn’t be abnormal to expect the Black couple to be callous towards their own sons, enough to, somehow, stunt their growth. With a click of your tongue and a roll of your eyes, you eagerly move on from the topic and observe the front page more closely only for your breath to stutter and catch in your throat. 

A moving picture of the harrowing dark mark being cast over a house plays in a loop before you. Reading the associated article, you feel your stomach turn in on itself. It was such a disgusting display.

“How cruel…” Your disgust morphs into sorrow as you read over the killings made within the specific house. It belonged to innocent muggleborns and their family members, both magic folk dubbed as blood traitors and their muggle family were massacred. It was clearly an attack meant to bring fear and terror to muggle borns and the pureblooded witches and wizards that dare protect them - all in the name of the dark lord and his bigoted agenda. 

What a load of bullshit.

Not stopping for long, you read interview quotes from blood purists showing their support over the act. Their only reason was that they feared losing their pureblood traditions entirely to muggleborns. The horrific, terroristic happenings all appear to follow after the election of a muggle born Minister of Magic (Nobby Leach), the induction of Dumbledore as the Headmaster of Hogwarts, and then the introduction of Voldemort last year. It’s deplorable that that’s all it takes for blood purists to excuse such radical operations —it’s inhumane. 

“‘The Ministry continues to spare no effort’,” you read under your breath but frown despite the reassuring words, “I bet those Deatheaters get a real ego boost from that statement…” if you remember correctly, Voldemort was enlisting more Deatheaters as well as magical creatures. However, those who are seen as ‘inferior’ were made to suffer, namely Goblins and House-elves. It doesn’t sit well with you. 

The fact that the fantasy world around you — one that you’re an avid fan of — feels so incredibly real, despite it being a dream, suddenly looks very bleak makes your chest tighten. And you quickly find yourself agonising over the lives of many children across the country, both in the muggle and wizarding world, being filled with unhappiness and gloom purely because of the selfish and bigoted adults that are supposed to protect them. 

You click your tongue bitterly. Only a terf could write or imply something so tragic in a supposed children’s book…

Just as you set down the newspaper and lean back against the headboard, Kreacher materialises at your bedside and begins to clear away your plate and paper. You shoot him a smile of thanks that he has a mixed reaction to. Before disappearing, he observes your state once more, dull eyes searching for something. When he returns a moment later, he’s carries with him a slim vial filled with a red, almost-pinkish liquid that contained ascending bubbles. Carbonated? It looked like a normal drink — like a brightly dyed, flavoured tea or sports drink. 

With eyes of fascination, you carefully take the potion vial from Kreacher. You were about to take your first ever magical potion and you plan on savouring every moment of it, even the moments leading up to drinking it. Slowly turning the vial in your hand, you realise that the consistency of the liquid isn’t as light as water; it was a little thicker.

“It’s a healing potion mistress,” Kreacher explains at your bedside, hunched over with his features scrunched up into a permanent scowl, “for the hot fever, mistress,” you give him a small, grateful smile for the explanation. It’s been a while since someone has been proactive when it came to caring for your wellbeing; it made you feel better knowing that Kreacher was around to take care of your needs, disregarding that it was an obligation he couldn’t escape from. Being a successful woman in commerce didn’t mean you were successful in all aspects of life. You still needed to be cared for. This was a welcomed compassion you were going to take full advantage of. 

“Thank you Kreacher,” you swiftly uncork the vial and down the potion like a shot, not expecting it to taste so revolting, “Ugh! That’s horrid!” you cough and feel tears surface. This was supposed to be your dream so why did you come up with something so foul-tasting?! You’ve never tasted anything so disgusting! You can’t even begin to describe the flavour —it’s too foul for words! 

Shaken up by your amplified reaction, Kreacher begins to shake but explains that it’s how all healing potions tasted, “there are other potions with the baddest tastes mistress,” you try to shake away the repulsive flavour but have no such luck and turn to Kreacher with a plea. 

“Water? Please?” with a snap of his fingers, a cool glass of fresh, crisp water appears and you immediately reach out to drink it. The repulsive taste on your tongue dilutes the more you drink but it doesn’t fully lift off your taste buds. Even after drinking the entire tall glass of water, the awful taste of the healing potion lingered — you couldn’t even feel relieved from the feverish headache that left you. 

The healing potion had worked its purpose and you were up and about 12 Grimmauld Place, taking in its dismal but elegant interior, opulent decor and its many rooms. You didn’t know what to expect. It was evident how wealthy the Black Family was in their expensive tastes but that didn’t necessarily translate into aesthetic arrangements. When you watched the movies, it was understandable how dilapidated it was but, despite currently being lived-in, it still looked dull. All rooms appeared the same and began to blend into one another the more you moved around. You still awed at the realistic display of the place, however; it all felt so real, as if your surroundings breathed with life and every ornament, wall and structure had its own individual heartbeat. Just the thought made your heart race. This was once a purely fictional setting and now, your dream brought it to life and you were fully encapsulated - happily so. 

One room that held your attention far better than all other rooms of the house combined was the home library. It was majestic, regal and old — a charming space that you were eager to explore. Its many shelves were lined with an assortment of books, many containing magical knowledge such as light magic and dark magic, which was surprising when considering the Black family’s preference for dark magic. What wasn’t surprising was the amount of books detailing traditional wizard and witch rituals, dates, holidays and more. Purebloods and their need for the maintenance of customs and ceremonies, you couldn’t help rolling your eyes. You expected there to be more books on dark magic but most were on the history of the wizarding world and its many traditions, some of which you had never seen or heard mention of in the Harry Potter book series, movies or games. 

Your mind was very creative and you were quite proud of yourself for it. 

Time passes you as the pages of many books are skimmed by your eyes. You have no idea how much time ticks by as you consume book after book, flicking through pages before being interrupted by a rapid knock at the door succeeded by the entrance to the library being hurriedly pushed open. 

“Mother,” Regulus pants with softly flushed cheeks. His head of curls were a hint messier than the last time you met eyes with him, however, he was still dressed more formally than how a normal ten year old boy should be dressed. It was then, however, that you realised your greatest, influential role — a role that’s far more important than being the head of your company. You’re a mother now. A mother to two gorgeous and darling sons, who deserve all the love in the world. It made tears well up in your eyes. Your subconscious had realised your truest, purist desires and brought it to you in a dream through your beloved fictional characters, ”M-mother?” snapping out of your trance, you realise Regulus had been waiting for you to signal that it was okay for him to speak but hadn’t yet.

“Yes?” Your soft voice appears to catch him off-guard but he’s quick to recover and steel his features.

“I apologise for coming to you late, Mother,” he begins, remaining at the door with his shoulders straight and expression level despite the anxiety for his mistake clearly showing in his eyes. He’s still slightly panting but endeavours to explain himself quickly for your expediency. 

“It’s alright, darling, take your time,” you offer a kind smile that he doesn’t know how to respond to. And, instead of assuring him, you seem to have only made him more fearful. 

“I-I’m terribly sorry, Mother, it was entirely my mistake. It won’t happen again, I swear!” he pleads with tearful eyes and a quivering lip. His small voice raises in volume no matter how much he tries to control it and eventually has to stop talking altogether just so he could gather himself. 

“Regulus, you’ve done nothing wrong,” your words have such a profound effect on him that he stills, completely frozen in time from shock and confusion, “what were you going to say originally, darling?” ‘darling’… the endearment slips you so naturally and it doesn’t even bother you — this really was your heart’s truest desire. 

Regulus takes a few minutes to himself, trying to find his voice and swallowing to wet his gone-dry mouth in order to speak without his voice cracking, which would have an ill demonstration of the Black family’s standing, “I, once again, apologise for my lateness, mother. I did not realise you would be in the family library rather than your study today,” it’s clear he’s still quite flustered from his earlier frantic search for your wandering form as he was still faintly panting under his breath. You raise a gentle hand and, paired with your soft smile, you silently assure him to take his time once more. He appreciates the unusual consideration and leniency from his typically stringent mother, “as per usual, I am here to update you on the progress of my home studies. I’ve read through all the chapters you wanted me to read and had written notes appropriately, complete with summary paragraphs…”

You don’t speak as you observe the sweet boy before you, his shoulder pulled back and chin held squarely as if he was a soldier, a man of rigorous instruction rather than the innocent young boy he was supposed to be. As you stare with an unknown and unfamiliar look in your eyes, Regulus tenses up, slowly backing into the hallway once more. His mother is a woman of few words but would usually hum along in approval to his list of completed tasks — it was a trivial gesture of favour that he eagerly sought after, wanting nothing more than to seek your acceptance. Complete and utter silence could either be dangerous or harmless. The potential risk made the hairs on his arms raise. The poor boy didn’t know what to make of your bizarre mannerisms lately. His heart raced to new heights and his throat felt even more closed up than usual. 

Slowly, you walk up to him and kneel down, love and fondness clear in your gentle eyes. However, it was such a rare emotion for Regulus to see in his mother’s eyes that he tensed up more at the stare, no matter how affectionate and warm. 

It has to be a trap, somehow…   

Your gentle hand reaches up and cups his cherubic cheek, one of the few remaining demonstrations of his youth. Plumper, you need to fill in his cheeks, make them softer and more rounded; you’ll stop at nothing to get them to that state as soon as possible. With your thumb, you lovingly stroke his cheek and smile with all the love welling up in your chest. Your features are soft with the warmth and affection you wanted to convey beyond words. This is the first time Regulus has ever seen his mother look so kind. He’s never seen it before —it looks nice. His mother looks pretty now. He really hopes this isn’t a trap. 

Innate maternal love and instincts overwhelm you. And, after a moment, you take the plunge. You pull him into your arms and embrace his slim, short figure, pressing your face into his hair as you tuck his face into your shoulder. Finally, you have your own son, and you’re going to love him with all your heart. In your mind, you vow to all deities you would care for him like no other, even if in a dream. 

“A dream come true,” you say in a voice dripping with tears. Faintly, you hear Regulus ask for what you mean, muffled from how you have his face buried into your shoulder, “having a son like you, it’s a dream come true…” 

Regulus can’t believe his ears as a warmth spreads through his chest, rapid and, like a blossoming array of wild flowers, it’s accompanied with the purest happiness he’s ever felt in his short life so far. He doesn’t know what to say, speechless from your words, words that he’s never before heard from his mother. He’s wished so many times for such a scenario to come true that he can’t quite believe that it’s happening to him now. 

—BANG!

Sirius stands at the end of the hall, glaring ferociously at the scene happening before him, a bitter emotion consuming his small form at the words he hears and he promptly storms off. But you’re too quick with your lengthier strides and desire to reach him before he goes too far. Without a second thought, you hug the eldest brother to your chest too. You’ve pulled him as close to you as possibly could despite his protests and attempts at pushing you away. 

With a stern voice, you speak up against his thrashing form, “Sirius, do not get aggressive with me,”

“I don’t care!”

“You will care because you’ll end up hurting someone and or yourself one day, if you keep this up!”

Sirius is flooded by shock at your response and he freezes up. His mother never cared whether or not he or anyone else got hurt, so long as they succumbed to her ridiculous demands. He can’t recognise his own mother anymore. Taking full advantage of his paralysed state, your hold turns gentle and you begin to comb your fingers through his inky locks.

“Breathe...” you try to calm him down by gently petting the back of his hair down and occasionally running your nails along his scalp, “talk to me…what’s upset you?” looking up, you see Regulus a metre or two away with a curious look on his face, a mix of amazement, curiosity and caution. Sirius doesn’t respond so you gently prompt him, pulling away to meet his conflicted eyes, “darling?”

Sirius is stunned into silence and doesn’t know what to say, he’s in complete denial over what’s happening – this can’t be his mother, “did you hit your head or something?” he accuses in a snappy tone and you step back, a wave of realisation washing over you. Before this, Sirius and Regulus were pushed around by Walburga daily, abused and tortured in an attempt to conform to her ways. It breaks your heart but also fills you with determination. Even though this is just a dream, you will make the proper changes and treat them kindly. They deserve a loving mother, one who supports them and loves them unconditionally. As you part your lips to voice something, you feel an ominous presence enter the hallway. 

When you look up and over your shoulder, your eyes meet liquid mercury, swirling with anger and paired with the deepest frown. Orion Black approaches from behind you, his footsteps daunting and seeming to echo through the shaking walls of the hallway as he fixes Sirius with a cold glare. His own son, who’s only 11 years old.

“What is going on here?” Orion demands but completely ignores you when you try to explain. Your husband’s focus stubbornly remains on your son, the accusation and wrath in his eyes aggrandised. He continues to bark at Sirius, who looks at the floor in quiet shame and with bitten lips. You know he’s terrified but still tries to appear strong, knowing that if he cried out and showed weakness through pained anger in front of his parents, they would use it as ammunition to berate and abuse him further, “don’t you dare talk to your mother that way again, Sirius!”

Orion raises his wand to punish him but you hurriedly step in the way and tuck Sirius’ face into your stomach. Chin over your shoulder, you meet eyes with your husband andtry to keep from snarling at him lest your true intentions and change of heart come to light and raise red flags, “this is between me and Sirius, I will deal with his punishment myself,”

Sirius doesn’t know whether he should be fearful or relieved. That emotion is so foreign to him, especially when it comes to his mother and talks of punishment. Thankfully, Orion lets the situation go and nods curtly before walking back to his study with a huff, muttering about wasted time on his ‘useless son’ under his breath. 

“My punishment is to eat dinner in my room…” the brothers share a confused look, “usually, it’s to have no dinner and no breakfast…”

“Or worse…” Regulus’ words make them both shiver; a cold chill runs up their spines and inspires dark memories to surface. Un-welcomed, they shake their heads and banish the remembrance.  

Diverting the topic altogether, Sirius picks at his food, “what do you think happened to her?”

“Mother?” Regulus asks and receives a confirming nod, “I don’t know…Kreacher told me–” Sirius pulls a face at the friendship his brother has fostered with the elf, “that mother had a terrible fever yesterday and fainted after we saw her in the hallway,”

Sirius thinks for a moment and chews a little longer than usual, ruminating over the new information, “you think that’s what made her like that?”

Regulus shrugs his small shoulders, “that’s the only thing I could think of…” the youngest brother slowly begins to lose himself in thought, thinking back to when his mother embraced him tenderly and whispered such lovely, affirming words beside his ear. 

‘A dream come true… having a son like you, it’s a dream come true…’

“You like the change?” Sirius snaps his little brother out of his daydream and Regulus flushes in slight embarrassment, avoiding his older brother’s disapproving eyes. Or was that disappointment? Maybe something else?

“She’s much nicer now…”

“It won’t last forever,” Sirius says roughly, bitterness and disbelief evident in his voice as his brows furrow; he doesn’t want to believe that his mother, one of the two people responsible for hurting him and his little brother day in and day out, could have the capacity to change overnight, “you’ll see…”

Regulus doesn’t want to believe his brother but how could he deny such a pragmatic expectation? His older brother is right. It’s unrealistic for him to believe in such a miracle. Nevertheless, there was a troublesome ray of hope that warmed the depths of his chest and clenched around his beating heart with purpose. It was immature to be so optimistic but he can’t help hoping. 

And, he’d never admit it out loud but… Sirius was hopeful too.  

3rd August 1971

You’re astonished at how long this dream has stretched on for. You’ve been able to finish the previous day, fallen asleep beside your husband and rose the next day to have breakfast with your darling boys, served by Kreacher. And now, you’re happily immersing yourself in the home library once more. 

Amazed, you consume the contents of the book in your hand, you’ve never come across such information in the Harry Potter books, movies or games. It’s so novel! You feel bubbling excitement rise from deep within you, enchanted and equally awestruck from your imagination, even in sleep. You should be a fanfiction writer! 

“I can’t believe how detailed and long this dream is continuing on for…” you mutter to yourself, beginning to smile at your luck before you’re harshly interrupted.  

“This isn’t a dream you insufferable muggle!” a shrieking shrill scream echoes in your head and makes you wince. In a weak attempt at soothing the ache, you grasp at your temple with a hand. The throbbing discomfort the voice induces is equivalent to the same pain you experienced when you first woke up in that pitch black room, only, not as intense. The memory makes you wince even more and you wonder if the increase of pain was a type of phantom hurt brought on by your own thoughts.

“Wh-wha-?” you do your best to collect yourself but the wailing voice is unrelenting and perpetuates the pounding in your head. 

“To hell with that ritual! What. Happened?! This wasn’t supposed to be the result! Explain yourself, you filthy muggle woman! HOW DARE YOU TAKE MY PLACE!”

With staggering realisation, all the pieces click together in your head and you’re stunned into silence as the raging voice of the villainess woman continues to demand answers in your head. Her voice is piercing but is dulled out by your curiosity and rising triumph. 

“You’re saying this is real?...”

“Yes! You Filthy Muggle! Whatever you’ve done, reverse it now and allow me to return to my place!”

“...No,” your firm voice counters, a slow smirk gradually tugging at your lips. She goes silent, probably speechless at the audacity a ‘muggle’ has to disobey her demands, “I’m staying,” you threaten, “and I’m going to do right by your sons by giving them the life and mother they deserve—”

“You will do no such thing!” Walburga shouts once more in your head; this time, you don’t mind the throbbing pain it induces, “They are my sons and they—!”

“Not anymore bitch,” you grin deviously, “they’re my sons now,”  

NEXT. | 02 : SHOPPING (1/2) →

A/N : this is my attempt at a fix it fic inspired by one of my favourite genres in webtoons etc - reincarnation/isekai/time travel do-overs, wish me luck! i hope i do a good job! ALSO! I'd like to express a special thank you to my dearest friend @thebestofoneshots for being such a darling and taking time out of her day to beta-read this first chapter for me, she's been such a sweetheart and was the one who helped motivate me to finish the first chapter! i don't think i would have been able to post this first chapter without her. i love you so much my darling! please go and support her by reading her work, commenting and reblog her work too! she deserves all the love in the world! and she writes so beautifully too! you won't regret it!

NAVI. | SERIES MASTERLIST

TAGLIST : @melinajenkins @aastonishment @until-i-found-you @corp0real @celestcies @lovelydoveval @inlovewithremusjohnlupin @calums-betch @futurecorps3 @hihihi1112 @simpingforthe80s @yrluvjane @chaosofmanyfandoms @storyofaromance @loving-and-dreaming @somewereinthegalaxi @ashreblogsficshere @cassandra-nerezza-black @stray-bi-kids @ttkttt @notasadgirlipromise @desikudisworld @volturissideslut @arilxup88

SERIES TAGLIST OPEN

#marauders fic #marauders fanfiction #harry potter marauders #marauders era #the marauders era #sirius black #regulus black #the marauders #walburga black #the black brothers #orion black #DOB #Divorcing Orion Black #marauders fix-it-fic #reader insert #fem reader #marauders

[writefightandflightclub]

Ride or Die (Santiago “Pope” Garcia x fem!reader): Chapter One (of 11 - COMPLETED SERIES)

Series summary: Together, you and Santiago have been “soldiers” then “friends” then “lovers”; but will you ever figure out what comes next, especially when Santiago can’t (or won’t) stop running? 

Genres: a LOT of angst, some smut, best friends to… lovers?

Warnings: see collated series warnings here. Please note this series is NSFW / 18+ and minors or ageless blocks interacting will be blocked.

Series info: this is a COMPLETED SERIES. All chapters are written. Posting schedule is here. 

Author’s note: (If you read the original one-shot this slightly amended chapter will already be familiar to you, so I'm sorry for the initial lack of surprises. I promise though - there are many surprises from here!) Some of you may remember that this all started as an angsty smutty one shot, way back in 2020. Let’s just say, some of you really liked that story (thank you!) and a “part 2” was requested so that I could “fix” things for these two idiots (affectionate). Well, I guess part 2 took a while, because now it’s four years later, and I have written 87,000 words (ish). Oops. So, as you might infer through the accidental novel length spew, this series means rather a lot to me. It’s the longest piece of writing I have ever seen through to completion, and so, whilst it’s definitely not perfect, I am pretty proud of it! I hope with all of my little orange heart that you enjoy it, and if you do, any RBs, comments - or anything at all really - would mean the world. These two have lived in my head for four years and I will miss them, but I'm so excited to finally share them with you all! Honestly, I could say lots more, but for now I'll leave you with one more thought, which sums up this whole experience quite frankly: the characters made me do it. 

Finally, I have to thank you all, lovely pocket friends, for being so supportive and encouraging the whole way. It means so much to me! Especially, I GOTTA thank the fabulous @astroboots, who has hyped this project from literally before the beginning and been so encouraging, and @foxilayde, who is an incredible cheerleader for all my hare-brained endeavours. ILY!

Word count: 9.7k for this part (it’s broken down into 3 sections, if you prefer to read in stints!). 

Tag list info: will reblog separately tagging those on taglist. You can request to be added to the taglist if you are 18+ (or removed!). Send me an ask, please, so I can keep track :) 

You love your squad. You really do. However, if you are being honest, it can be tough being treated as “one of the boys”. You know it’s a good thing that they don’t treat you any differently - but sometimes, you have to admit you want to be seen as a woman first and a soldier second. Especially on evenings like this when testosterone and drinks are flowing freely. Evenings when you have an ache in between your thighs that, in your case, calls out for a man. Okay - calls out for Santiago “Pope” Garcia, to be specific.

“I hope you can handle something stiff going down your throat,” you announce crudely to the group, arriving to whoops of appreciation as you slide the tray of hard liquor and beers on to the lofty bar table. 

The squad is celebrating a successful bust, and the relief and revelry in the air after the months-long operation is palpable.

“Cheers to that!” Frankie winks with a dumbass grin, rubbing his palms together with glee. “You’re a saviour – Pope’s taking far too long.” 

Will helpfully conveys the shots and beers around the table, glasses and bottles clinking and jovial smiles rippling through the group as a direct result. Ready for a cold one, you bring the rim of your beer to your lips for an immediate swig, condensation pooling on your fingers and making you realise how close the air is in this buzzing but dingy place.

“Bottoms-up, boys,” Tom directs as he passes you a shot, earning a good-natured side-eye from you. “And bottoms-eth up-eth, Mi’ Lady,” he adds, along with a regal hand wave to match his faux Olde English tone.

“To busts!” you ‘cheers’, clinking your glasses in the centre of the table. The innuendo earns a throaty, gruff chuckle from Frankie who bumps shoulders with you, inviting you to share in the camaraderie. You give-in with a broad smile, unable -as ever- to resist Frankie’s tittering. 

“Oh, hang on,” Frankie says, flitting quickly to a now unoccupied bar stool at an adjacent table (seats are in short supply tonight) and dragging it over to you.

“This for me, Catfish? How gallant.”

He grins. He knows you hate gallant. “It’s actually for Pope and his creaky knees… but you may as well make use of it while he’s pre-occupied,” Frankie chortles. You sit gratefully, your decision to wear heels after months in your beloved combat boots feeling like a definite mistake.

Speaking of mistakes...

“You fucking seeing this?” Tom asks, nodding his head over towards your squad mate, apparently simultaneously in awe of and amused by his current interaction at the bar; the very reason the drinks had been failing to materialise.

Twisting on your perch, you follow his gaze towards Santiago, eyes boring into the back of his head and his wash of grizzled curls. Involuntarily, your eyes trail over his form, the midnight blue button-down taut over his muscled shoulders as he casually props himself against the bar, jeans snug over that impossibly shapely rump. He has the barmaid rapt, eating out of his hand, all batting eyelashes and tongue slack in her mouth. Abandoned, a tray of shots sits unnoticed in front of Santiago as he lingers in conversation with her. All you can do is watch as, next, she leans over the bar brazenly, letting her thick, dark mane cascade across her ample, showcased cleavage. You can’t see Santiago’s expression as he -respectfully, you’re sure- admires her, but you can imagine it. 

Occasionally, you are on the receiving end of those expressions too.

Unfortunately, Santiago has a raw talent for making… connections. Besides off-shore bank managers and corrupt lawyers, that also inevitably extends to hook-ups. He is never short of distractions. Or, apparently, you never can hold his attention for long. When you do, though? When he does notice you, he makes you feel like you are the only woman in the world, his focus so intent and unrelenting you feel like he is viewing you through a sniper scope. Like the attention might end you.

You bristle thinking about his selective interest, the dull ache between your legs intensifying. 

“Never mind that deserter. Let’s celebrate without him,” you encourage to a ripple of agreement. You toss your shot back in-time with the boys and screw-up your face, shuddering in response as the spirit burns down your throat. You stick your tongue out with a “bleuch” as the aftertaste lingers.

However, your distraction doesn’t work for long, as your comrades seem determined to continue gossiping about the object of your desire.

“How does he do it?” Tom asks in disbelief, with more than a side of jealousy. He’d always given off the vibe of envying Santiago, you’d thought. “We’re all good-looking guys, man. But that little shit’s rolling in it.”

“I don’t know what it is. He’s not even tall,” Will snickers, knowing that Santiago hates being teased about his height. 

Frankie interjects. “MaybeFrankie interjects. “Maybe it’s the big dick energy.”

No comment. 

You’ve certainly never had any complaints about his stature. He is large enough to feel sturdy and surrounding, and small enough that you can take control of him when the mood strikes you. Oh, and you’ve certainly never had any qualms about his big dick energy… or his big dick for that matter.

Frankie chuckles again at the good-natured teasing and bumps you with his elbow. You are grateful for his easy, infectious laughter, acting like an umbrella against the moody, Santiago-shaped storm cloud which threatens above your head. 

“For real though,” Tom interjects, leaning forward over the table as if he’s sharing classified intel. “Has he been getting frisky with the informant again?” His eyes travel around the table, meeting each squad member’s gaze in turn. “I feel like he’s definitely got something going on there too. Tell me I’m seeing things.”

“Luci?” Will asks, then whistles in surprise at Tom’s accusation, his brows converging. You’re not sure if he’s surprised by Santiago’s potentially compromising choices, or impressed by his unparalleled ability to pull. “That sly dog.” Perhaps it’s a little of both.

You tense. Santiago getting involved with an informant. A beautiful informant. Sounds entirely plausible, although Santiago has neglected to tell you if it is true. Besides building connections, another skillset of Santiago’s is his uncanny aptitude for mixing business with pleasure. Realistically, he can do whatever the hell he wants with whomever he wants - it is no business of yours - but, in truth, you are tired. Tired of being the one he only picks up when he has no-one else. Tired of going unnoticed the rest of the time.

“Actually,” Frankie leans forward to drop this juicy titbit of gossip into the conversation. “Luci broke it off. Requested a new contact.” He taps the side of his nose as if to indicate that he has his sources too, trying to drum up some air of mystery. “Coincidence? I think not,” he adds, tipping his head towards the continued scene at the bar. 

You stiffen then in cold realisation. That’s why. That’s why he was noticing you earlier tonight. It wasn’t that he finally saw you. It wasn’t you in this dress. It wasn’t you. Yet again, he’d simply run out of distractions.

“Huh,” Tom says, looking a little too pleased with Santiago’s misfortune, swilling the dregs of his beer around absent-mindedly. “Well. He doesn’t seem devastated. It took him all of two minutes to get back on the horse.”

“Come on. You know Santi famously doesn’t get attached,” you snipe, partially serving the sentiment up as a reminder to yourself. 

Santiago does have a... reputation. Honestly, you have no problem with that. There is no shame in having casual sex, after all. So long as it is safe and consensual, what does it matter? You’ve even acted as Santi’s “wing-woman” on a number of occasions. It had never been a problem; that is… it hadn’t been a problem until he started having casual sex with you.

Santiago is loyal almost to a fault in many other areas of his life. He is abundantly loyal to you, and there is no doubt in your mind that Santiago sees you as a friend first. As a soldier second. You know he respects you deeply for your sharp-mind, your humour, your straight-talking, and your lethality in equal measure. And, you also know that Santiago desires you. Or, at least, he does when it suits him. When he is paying attention. These various roles never seem to converge, though. As a friend? You and Santiago go way back. As a soldier? You’ve been on his squad longer than anyone has, since decades before you all went freelance. As a lover, though? Well, that is new. And he can’t seem to reconcile this new role with the rest of the ways he knows you. 

Yes. Sure. Sometimes, Santiago desires the soft parts of you. Sees you as something other than a friend or a soldier. But you wish he would notice all of you, all at once. He sees you in fragments, like shrapnel. You wish he would piece things together. You wish he would notice you consistently. Not only when you’ve been out in the field too long, spending days bunched into hot and confined spaces, too close for comfort. Not only when hails of bullets send him reeling, searching for any kind of foothold on feeling alive. Still, over and over, you let him. You let him dip you back, with urgency - on to a mattress or a roll-mat or simply down on to the jungle floor - to thrust himself into you.

Santiago “Pope” Garcia is the man you crave. He gives it to you good. He makes you feel like a woman. Of course, there is no one particular way to be or to feel like a woman. There are infinite ways. For you though, very specifically, it is simple. It feels like Santiago desiring the soft parts of you which lay secreted under your tactical gear and your tough façade. It feels like him kissing you, soft lips and abrasive stubble. Strong hands and that muscled body writhing in a mess of breath and flesh. In those moments, you are a soldier least of all. Free of any mission, you become unadulterated; reckless abandon. You cease to be clipped and tactical, precise and lethal, and instead you become a soft, fluid thing beneath him.

Every time you arrive back in the city though, distractions abound. Santiago apparently ceases to desire you. Notice you. You had wrongly believed that tonight felt different. Something about the cool but heady night air. The way he was looking at you in this dress during your walk to the bar to meet the rest of the group. The way his hand lingered on your back as he guided you over to the table. But it mustn’t have been so. It must have been wishful thinking, that’s all.

You’ve done an increasing amount of wishful thinking, lately, it seems. 

Too much.

You sigh deeply. You don’t even realise you have zoned out from the group’s banter until Santiago arrives back with the tray of drinks -and no doubt one more phone number in his contacts- by which point, you are riled up enough to grab the shot of tequila right off the tray and down it without thinking, salt and lime be damned. 

“Woah, cariño. Feeling spirited tonight? Not wanna wait for the rest of us?” His smile is broad and easy and annoying as hell and suddenly you are adrift. 

“Nah, I’m done waiting, Santi,” you bite. He doesn’t catch the double-meaning in your words, because of course he doesn’t. Why would he?

Your skin flushes with instant heat as a result of his presence- definitely a recently acquired response. And so, you hastily dismiss your leather jacket, revealing a strappy, red, form-fitting dress beneath. Your appearance even earns a low whistle and murmur of approval from your buddies. 

“Someone’s gonna get lucky in that cute little number,” Frankie says pointedly, even as he’s staring curiously at Santiago staring at you. Maybe he’s on to you two. 

You smile, happy -as ever- to take a little flattery. Plus, you do find it hilarious to watch these guys squirm when they remember that you do, in fact, have a body concealed underneath all your tactical gear. 

“Well I won’t get lucky if you chumps keep staring down every man who looks at me,” you complain, already having clocked the defensive perimeter which has formed around you, simply from the way they have positioned themselves.  

The squad are protective of you, unnecessarily, and you simultaneously chide and love them for it.

“Big men protec’, chiquita,” Frankie teases, puffing out his biceps and chest like a gorilla. He says it knowing fine well you could take out any one of them if you wanted.

You hear the warm rumble of Santiago’s laugh next to you too, chiming in time with yours, his body closer than you’d realised as he dishes the remaining shots out. “Please!” he scoffs, casually slinging his arm around the back of your bar stool, the shot primed in his other hand. “You know damn well she doesn’t need protection!” 

“She’s gonna need protection when she gets laid,” Will quips, causing Tom to almost snort beer out of his nose in amusement and Frankie to high-five him from across the table. You would scold him but you’re laughing too, even as you roll your eyes good-naturedly at their ‘bro’ humour. 

You drop your head towards Santiago as the others continue snickering like a pack of hyenas, the alcohol clearly having gone to their heads already. That’s what they get for drinking on empty stomachs. You and Santiago’d had the foresight to hit up a first rate food truck on the route across town, like sensible people.

“Dance with me, Pope?” you ask, giving him a subtle yet seductive bat of your eyes.

“For the love of God, Pope. Leave some women for the rest of us,” Tom pleads -partially in jest, you’re sure- as Santiago curtly nods, not knowing quite what you’re up to but taking your hand anyway.

“Ok. I hear you. Let’s ditch these losers,” Santiago joshes, smiling as he gets a predictable rise out of his squad.

It isn’t so unusual for you two to dance together when you visit bars, so it doesn’t earn too much suspicion from the group (plus, you’re military - you two have been pretty damn good at hiding your hook-ups, covering your tracks). Dancing with you might undo the careful ground-work Santiago had laid with the barmaid just a moment ago, however. Even so, Santiago opts to follow you into the sweaty throng of people on the floor all the same, your fingers loosely twined with his as you lead him. You find a relatively private spot, away from the prying eyes of the squad, and come to a standstill. 

You turn into Santiago at the last available moment, meaning he ends up disconcertingly close. Almost chest-to-chest with you.

“Put your hands on me,” you command, a little more throaty than intended. You sling your arms around his shoulders, fingertips brushing at the buzzed hair at the nape of his neck. Santiago hesitates, but following a search of your eyes he plants his hands firmly onto the small of your back. You instantly feel the broadness and the warmth of him through the thin fabric of your dress. Those lethal hands. The hands that have pulled triggers and grenade clips. Choked the life out of assailants. Those lethal hands that have traced gently down your back as you laid bare beside him, killing you softly.

You let his hands rove over your body, wherever he wants to put them. Apparently, he wants to put them everywhere he can, like it’s a compulsion to touch you. He trails his hands up and down your back, ghosts them over the globes of your ass, snakes them down to the lip of your dress where his fingertips brush against your bare thighs, tacky with heat. And, after wandering, his hands come to rest low-slung on your hips, exactly where he likes to grab you when he thrusts into you. He gives you a subtle squeeze there, and the feel of him floods back to you. You are reminded of the way, when you’re with him, your own lethal hands are finally occupied by something other than battle. Of the times when you relinquish any preoccupation with victory, in favour of reaching perfect surrender. The times when your heart throbbing in your throat feels like safety instead of danger. 

His hands on you feel... natural. You move together symbiotically. Your bodies are always, easily in sync. On the battlefield, on the dance floor, in the bedroom. Always moving as a team. After so long side-by-side, it would be hard to exist in a manner to the contrary. It would be hard to exist without him at all. 

Will be hard. 

You let Santiago press against you as you sway together on the darkened dancefloor, gyrating and slinking your hips in time with the music. You feel him half-harden against you and his grip on your hips tightens, a feeble but gruff sound involuntarily escaping his lips and causing a coil to tighten in the pit of you. 

You think Santiago looks into your eyes meaningfully then. With something deep and unspeakable. Though that must simply be the wishful thinking you’ve become so practised at, and so, you immediately dismiss the thought, even as you nestle your mouth closer to his ear in order to speak. As your breath fans over the corded column of his neck you could swear he engorges further. And, the ache between your legs becomes almost unbearable at the spike of his cologne in your nostrils, his familiar scent curling within you. 

Santiago doesn’t smell like spice or musk or woodsmoke. Not to you. To you he smells like memories and possibilities - a heady paradox. Like your past and future. His scent inspires a quickening within you. Something under your skin is spurred into motion, tending toward collision. Yet at the same time, his scent curls in you and feels like… a stilling too. Like someone entirely arrived at a place so familiar that they forget ever having arrived at all and can’t imagine leaving. 

You dismiss it. You try. You fracture the moment. You must, before you collide. 

“I hear you’ve had some informant woes? I hope to God we got the intel.” You feel him tense instantly against you.

“Uh-huh. I got it.” Santiago‘s not really listening. Instead, he’s dropping his eyes to your body pressed up against his own, the heels of his hands now kneading into your hips. “You look good.” His voice is a husk in the shell of your ear as he leans into you, ensuring he can be heard over the music.

“Good for Luci, breaking it off though.” You dismiss his compliment, barely able to obscure the animosity in your tone despite all attempts to sound casual. 

He snaps back from you an inch or so, enough to look you directly in the eyes. You think that maybe, he looks almost disappointed. “Jealous?” he probes, ticking-up one eyebrow. 

He knows you far too well. Yet, despite his on-the-mark observation, the question makes you feel called-out and so, your next tack becomes unnecessarily cruel. Vengeful almost. “He’s getting there.” 

“What?” Santiago asks in evident confusion, his hands slipping back-up to the neutral area of your back as the mood slips away too. 

“The tall drink of water at 9 ‘o’ clock. Guy who’s been eyeing me all night. Doesn’t he look like he wants his hands on me instead of yours?” You know that you sound cruel, and petty, and the words feel bitter, like salt and lime in your mouth. You’ve said them all the same though. It’s already done. 

Santiago’s jaw clenches, eyes flicking subtly over as he rotates you to get a better look at your target. 

“He does,” he states, with a thin attempt at neutrality, his neck roped with tension as his eyes skim over the other man. 

“Great. Then thanks for the dance, Wingman. You’re relieved.”

Santiago puffs out air, his jaw clenching and eyes darkening. 

You tick an eyebrow up at him. “What’s wrong? You jealous, Santiago?”

Then, you saunter towards the bar, where the other man is stood. He very blatantly gives you the once over, evidently liking what he sees. You lean in with a flirty smile, letting the image of an aggrieved Santiago dissolve into the throng of people as you allow yourself to be entirely distracted. 

You are done waiting. 

You want to be noticed, and this handsome man in front of you is certainly providing you with his undivided attention. 

***

Later, Santiago watches you prepare to leave with the other man, disgruntled and forlorn. He’s watched you all night via snatched glances through the crowd. Watched the man laugh at your jokes, watched him work up the courage to brush your arm. He watched you eventually move in for the kiss, your eyes turning hungry as you pulled away, teeth biting down on that delicious, pillowy lip of yours. 

The bar having quietened down a little by now, Santiago sits in a booth opposite Tom and Frankie, Will having found his own company for the remainder of the night as well. Santiago’s head is propped on his elbow, a half-empty beer nestled in his other hand. His buddies’ eyes needle him as you toss a casual salute over to the table, your hook-up leading you out by the hand and your eyes shining gleefully. 

“What?” Santiago hisses defensively, as Frankie continues to stare knowingly at him from the opposite side of the table. 

Frankie’s head simply shakes in amusement. “Nothing. Only… when in the hell are you gonna figure out it’s her you really want, huh?”

“She’s just a friend,” Santiago bristles, shifting uncomfortably in his seat, hunching in on himself. 

“And a fuck-buddy,” Tom ventures.

Santiago looks down, taking a masking swig of his beer. “You know about that?”

“Didn’t until just now. But thanks a bunch for confirming,” Tom replies in a self-satisfied tone, earning a chuckle and a bump on the shoulder from Frankie. 

“Well… fuck.” Santiago sighs, his face becoming pinched. 

“I already knew,” Frankie states. “Christ. You’re loud enough, man. Hard to keep the secret that you’re nailing one of the squad when we’re camped out in, like, 3ft of jungle.”

Santiago absent-mindedly picks at the label on his bottle with his thumb. “Don’t talk about it like that, man. It’s not… Fuck.” 

Frankie just looks across at him in sympathy, Santiago’s reaction revealing more than he probably cared to about the true extent of his predicament. 

You’d risen through the ranks together. You’d been through a lot. Everyone on the squad knew Santiago was your ride or die and you his. You had each other’s backs. Had tended each other’s bullet wounds for Christ’s sake. Your friendship and the trust between you both -on the battlefield and off it- was deep and unshakeable.

“And you don’t want more than that?” Tom probes.

Despite being indoors, Santiago picks up his baseball cap from the seat and pulls it down over his eyes then, in an attempt to shield himself from this line of questioning. 

“What ‘else’ is there? There’s not much time for romance in between a hail of bullets.”

“Maybe.” Tom tips his head, contemplatively. “But you’re not getting any younger, Pope. How many years do your Goddamn knees have left in them?” He lets that one simmer for a moment, before nodding pointedly towards the door through which you had retreated. “You could do a lot worse, you know.”

“She could do a lot better,” Frankie interjects, earning a snigger from Tom and causing Santiago to huff, expression turning surly. Frankie holds his hands up defensively then. “Look, you do you, man. I’m just saying... I’m sure you’re having a great time getting your dick wet all over the continent… but if you don’t step up soon? You might regret it.”

Santiago whips his eyes towards his buddy, gaze interrogative and piercing. “What does that mean?”

“Nothing in particular,” Frankie shrugs, searching Santiago’s eyes with equal vigour. Santiago drops his gaze first, feeling exposed. 

Frankie kicks his buddy gently under the table. “Come on, hermano. Use your words. Share your feelings.” 

Frankie’s words may sound mildly taunting, as ever, but Santiago recognises the invitation to open up is genuine. He purses his lips, brows knitting together as he resists it, picking through his choice of words carefully before he allows them out of his mouth. He massages his palm over his roughened jaw and it rasps like sandpaper. “I don’t even know if she wants more.” 

“Are you kidding me, man?” Tom responds in amusement. “The guy who can get information out of a freakin’ stone, make any informant sing, ‘doesn’t know’ if she wants more? That’s what’s stopping you? A fucking intel issue?”

Frankie titters again, narrowing his eyes at Santiago and trying to figure him out. “He’s scared,” the man accuses, before his tone softens involuntarily. “That it?” 

Santiago takes an idle swig of his beer, polishing off the dregs before shrugging his jacket on, jaw twitching in irritation. 

“Oh shit, he’s moping! He’s moping now. Can’t handle the truth,” Tom mocks. 

“Come on, Santiago,” Frankie reasons. “We just want things to work out for you. You two are a good match- any chump can see that. Heh. Except maybe you.” 

Santiago doesn’t respond. Instead, he simply continues his silent preparations to leave, stuffing his wallet and keys into his jean pockets. 

“Plus- there are a bunch of reasons we’d like you off the market,” Tom teases. “More women for the rest of us. Golden opportunity to tease you for being so whipped.” Tom flashes a shit-eating grin up at his friend. 

Nodding gently, lips twisted in a pout and refusing to rise to it, Santiago tips his head towards his squad members. “Gentlemen,” he offers by way of farewell, before starting towards the door. 

“Want me to walk you home safe, chiquito?” Frankie calls.

“I’m not going home.” Santiago turns and gives the two men an affectionate middle finger before beelining toward the exit. 

“You’re not going over to her right now, are you? Pope? Santiago? That’s not what we... She’s gonna be pissed, man. Think this through!” Tom shouts after him, but it’s futile. Santiago has already swept out into the night, leaving Tom and Frankie to exchange helpless glances. 

There is a beat. 

Then: “I bet the bastard gets laid as well,” Frankie snorts. 

“Right?” Tom hums softly in agreement. “If anyone can turn up to a girl’s apartment while she’s banging another guy and still end up getting down? It’s that little shit, no word of a lie.”

There is a moment of silence as the pair sip their drinks and contemplate what Santiago has, precisely, which causes women to become so enamoured with him. 

“Maybe it’s his ass?” Tom offers, finally. 

Frankie clicks his fingers. “Ah. You’re probably right. That ass won’t quit.”

Meanwhile, Santiago steps out into the fresh air, the slight bite of it taking the edge off his alcohol buzz. 

His thoughts are overwhelmed with you. Have been overwhelmed with you. In truth, Santiago is finding it harder and harder to keep this up. Especially whenever it is just the two of you, he finds it harder and harder to resist you. 

It is typically easier in the city, where there are plenty of distractions. He is grateful for it - other people he can tangle with to take his mind off of you. In the city, it is easier to push that side of you out of his mind and to fall back into the clear-cut ways. The way it used to be before the lines had become blurred. Easier to compartmentalise his feelings for you. A friend first. A soldier second. A lover, only intermittently. 

Santiago was determined not to let everything bleed into one, because once those barriers, those delineations fell, he was convinced he would never be able to rebuild them. 

Most of all, he was convinced he wouldn’t want to. 

The thing is... the “distractions”? They never really worked for long. You are the only woman for him, in truth. And for all it might be crazy, he is headed towards your apartment right now to find out if you feel the same way. To find out if you want more. To find out if you see him as more than a friend and a soldier and a lover, or if you see him completely, and all at once. 

To find out if he is everything to you, like you are to him. 

***

There is a loud rap on your door and it tears you, regretfully, from the tangle of limbs you are in. When the knock becomes more insistent, you apologise to the man blissed out beneath you and extricate yourself from his embrace, hastily cloaking yourself in a sheet and traipsing through your temporary apartment – home for the time being. Adrenalin piqued, you peer through the spyhole, relief flooding you when you see who it is. 

“Santi? What the fuck?” you ask, opening the door to him and pressing the sheet to you with your remaining hand.

“Hi,” he says casually, the brim of his baseball cap pulled down over his eyes.

“I’m in the middle of something,” you bite, emphatically. “What in the hell do you want?” you hiss at him, keeping your volume low.

“You,” he says plainly.

Santiago looks you over; your flushed face, plumped lips and blatant post-orgasm glow. His jaw visibly clenches.

“What?!” you exclaim in confusion. 

“I want you.”

You tear his blasted hat off to examine his eyes for sincerity, pushing it into his chest all bunched-up. He hastily stuffs it in his jacket pocket. Eyes narrowed, you appraise him a moment longer, clicking your tongue in disbelief at the nerve this man has before abruptly closing the door on him.

“Bye, Santi.” 

“Wait!” he pleads, jamming his foot in the door and muscling through.

“What in the hell are you doing?!” you hiss again, backing-up and almost tripping over your sheet, which Santiago now has his mucky boots all over.

By this time, your hook-up for the night has heard the commotion and blustered through the dark apartment -in the nude- to ward off your supposed intruder. Your companion is bigger, sure, but he certainly shouldn’t mess with Santiago. He wouldn’t fare well at all. 

You raise your hand to diffuse the situation. “It’s ok, he’s a friend. Sometimes,” you add with a tilt of your head.

Your companion’s face flashes with recognition as Santiago emerges from out of the shadows. “Oh. It’s you, from the bar. Here I was thinking we’d gotten rid of you already.”

Santiago simply glowers with bubbling aggravation at the man, who has the cheek to just stand there with his fucking schlong out, entirely undeterred. Santiago puffs his chest out, making himself larger. 

“Please.” Santiago addresses you, tearing his eyes away from the man. “Can we talk?”

You sigh, unable to believe that you’re being stupid enough to agree to his demands. You turn back to the man you were enjoying being on top of until a moment ago. “Can you give us five minutes? I’m so sorry. I’ll be back.”

“Well - she might not be back,” Santiago suggests, and you glare at him, irritated.

The man looks between you and Santiago in disbelief before addressing you only. “Sure,” he says with a languid, sultry smile, ignoring Santiago entirely. “I’m willing to wait if we get to continue the fun we were having.” 

“Oh he’s a cheeky fuck,” Santiago grates, his whole body tense, and you quickly grab his elbow to bundle him into the kitchen before he can do any further damage.

“You’re the cheeky fuck, Santiago.” Apparently that’s your type. You vaguely wonder why you keep subjecting yourself to this, but you certainly don’t wish to pull on that thread too hard. Not right now. 

As you release his elbow, Santiago comes to face you in the narrow slip of a kitchen.

“Well? What in the hell are you doing here?” you rage whisper at him, folding your arms across yourself and tapping your foot impatiently on the tiled floor. 

Santiago simply squares up to you, his expression formidable, unphased. His dark eyes trail over you again, snagging on the places where the sheet drapes over the contours of you. You are suddenly uncomfortably aware of how naked you are beneath it. “Told you. I want you.”

Normally, those words were enough. But not any longer. You scoff. “I know all about how you want me, Pope. Half-heartedly. You want me when it suits you. When you can’t have me. When there’s no-one else around for you to want.”

It is his turn to scoff now. “Casual is what you wanted. You gonna throw that back in my face now?”

You sigh, tiredly, refusing to get embroiled in this. This is all meaningless. He can twist things and make excuses all he likes, but Santiago is a man of action. If he wanted you? Really wanted you? He wouldn’t let a Goddamn technicality stand in the way. 

You don’t have the energy for excuses. For this conversation. You’ve waited too long for Santiago to even realise there is anything worth talking about. So, instead of fighting back, you let it go. 

“I’m done, Santi. I’m out.”

Your words feel like a relief to you, after bottling this up since you came to the decision. The relief extends through your body as you sag backward to lean up against the cold fridge door, that too relieving on your hot, sheening skin.

“Don’t be so dramatic.” Santi dismisses your assertion instantly. He tended towards tunnel vision about some things. Just because he didn’t want out, he tended to assume that was true for everyone else. He was a connector, an enabler, and these factors combined meant the squad had stayed together a long time; far longer than it ever should have, like this time. He’d pulled his “retired” buddies back in, yet again. 

“I’m for real, Santi,” you say in a small voice. “It’s already done.”

A veil of shock then betrayal passes over his face as the truth of your words sinks in. He takes a step back from you, as if he’s been sucker punched in the gut. His brows knit together and he looks down at the floor. “When?”

“Three weeks.” You figure you may as well rip the band-aid off in one go.

He turns his mouth down at the corners and slowly nods his head, doing an admirable job of containing whatever it is he is feeling, for the moment, while he gathers his intelligence. Mission above emotion, as ever. Santiago looks at the world through a scope sometimes, and he often forgets about the big picture. It always surprises you how a man so perceptive and attentive to detail -when he chooses to apply it- could fail to notice something right under his nose. 

“Where?”

“Home. Desk-job, by the ocean. Private firm and a nice salary too. What’s not to love?” You add the extra information in an effort to detract from the thing you least wanted to face. Home is far. Far from him. 

“Fuck,” Santiago breathes, finally looking up at you. “Because of me?”

You bristle again. “You arrogant piece of....” you sigh heavily, biting your lip and reminding yourself it isn’t worth it to grow aggravated. Plus, there’s a kernel of truth in his question, after all. You gather yourself before speaking again. “I stayed so long because of you, Santi. But I’m leaving for me. I’m tired of waiting.” Maybe he’ll notice you when you’re gone, you think. Maybe he’ll want you then.  

“You can’t go. Someone with your skillset will be impossible to replace at short notice. How the hell am I supposed to keep the operation afloat without you?” 

You shake your head softly, smiling in disbelief, his response confirming so many of your reasons behind going. Always focussed on the mission.

“Frankie’s looking into someone, actually. He knows a guy. He’s not as good as me, of course, but-”

“-You told Frankie?!” You can hear in his voice that the revelation hurts him. He has always been your confidant. But hey, things change, even if Santiago never does. 

“Yeah, well,” you say thinly, through your teeth. “There’s plenty you don’t tell me, Santi.” You look at him pointedly. “Besides, I think you’ll manage. You always seem to find someone to meet your… needs. Don’t you?”

Santiago brings one arm up beside your head, leaning against the fridge with his palm, his dark eyes turbulent and boring into yours. “You’re the one who’s got some guy in there. What do you want from me, huh?”

He crowds you, but you can’t bring yourself to push him back. Instead, you languish more readily up against the fridge door, your grip on your sheet becoming less and less sure.

“Oh! That’s your fucking grand gesture? You came here to ask me what the hell I want from you?” Your passions rise, heart thrumming in your chest. You try and tell yourself it’s entirely from anger and nothing at all to do with his proximity. That it’s certainly not because of that look he’s giving you. 

Speaking of proximity, Santiago’s now close enough to smell the other man’s scent on you. He’s leaning into you, breath ragged and desire clouding his eyes, even as you still bear the signs of being ravaged by another between your legs. Or perhaps… because of it. 

Even as you stand here, like this, signs of another lover temporarily strewn over your person, it’s ludicrous to think another could claim you. You belong to Santiago. It’s Santiago who is indelibly written onto your body, the map of scars telling the story and you and him. The scar on your shoulder from a bullet wound, the scar on your calf from an off-road collision, the marks all over you serve as a reminder of the times Santiago has been there for you. Pressed his lethal hands to you to keep your lifeforce from ebbing away. He is your ride or die, and your body knows it. 

Equally, as he stands there fully clothed, you know that his body similarly hosts a constellation of scars from all your shared moments; in the field, on missions, over continents. One of you could not hope to be read -to be understood- without the other. Your bodies would forever move through the world as a team, as a pair, even if you left his side. 

You were each the key to cartographing each other’s lives. To imagine that the hickey on your neck or the slick between your legs could begin to compare to the way Santiago had marked you as his was almost comical. 

“You really need a grand gesture to know I care about you?” You know what he’s asking. Is running into a hail of bullets for you not enough? Hasn’t he proven himself to you time and time again? 

“Santi. I don’t doubt you care about me. I could never. I just… I don’t feel like you know yet what you want from me. And I can’t wait anymore for you to make up your mind.” You shrug. “I don’t know. I just feel like… like sometimes you don’t even see me because I’ve always been right in front of you.” 

Santiago looks at you, pained, expression weighted, as if he can’t find the words to tell the story of you. But your bodies are not stories. They are maps, and maps are to be understood through being travelled. That’s why, when his hand slips to you shoulder to slowly trace the scar there, it makes sense. It is understood without words as his fingers journey over your skin, a varied terrain of memories flashing through Santiago’s eyes. His touch retracing years in only moments. 

“I see you,” he insists, his voice a husk, his calloused fingertips trailing over your smooth, delicate skin. Making you feel weak. Making you want to become a soft, fluid thing beneath him. Oh, he’s looking at you now. There’s that attention that feels like it might end you. You commune wordlessly, breath quickening, that pulse of desire tending toward collision, the stillness of having arrived home as he touches you.   

“I see you,” he purrs, his hand moving to your sheet, gently tugging it away from your grasp and giving you ample opportunity to protest. But you don’t. You don’t protest. You are symbiotic with him. You move as a team, and you can’t help but want to merge. Maybe that’s why you let him tug the sheet from your grasp, fabric pooling at your feet. Maybe it’s the ache between your legs. Maybe it’s because you know he gives it to you good. 

Santiago exposes you completely to him, eyes then hands hungrily trailing down over your contours. His fingers grip your hips firmly as his mouth sinks into your neck, his hot breath fanning over you as he speaks. 

“I see you, baby.” 

Your arms are still pinned to your sides as you pretend that somehow you can resist your urges, despite being naked and needy and oh so ready in front of him. 

“Fuck you, Santiago,” you breathe, voice trembling, and you know exactly what he’s doing as his lips and his teeth snag angrily over your skin. Reclaiming you. Marking you as his. And instead of pushing him away, you pull him closer to you. Instead of recoiling you arch your body against him, breasts pushing up against him, the cold metal of his chain harsh against your skin. The sturdy mass and heat of him beneath his clothes only highlighting how exposed and vulnerable you feel, your desire entirely on display like a flare in the dark. 

His mouth has already ravaged your neck, your collarbone, his stubble abrasive against you, leaving a pleasant burn in its wake. His cologne is the only scent enveloping you now. Then, his hands rove over you, everywhere, like he’d wished they could in the bar, your skin still cloying, tacky with sweat. He paws at every bit of you as if to reinstate his claim on you. Your breasts, your ass, your hips, your thighs. He isn’t gentle. His hands showing their strength in a way they haven’t with you before now. He tongues your salty skin and the way his mouth punishes you is bitter like lime, foreshadowing his words. 

“Did he make you come?” he asks into your neck, his hand slipping between your legs and finding you wet and welcoming. “Did he?”

“Yes,” you breathe, his voice commanding enough that you want to answer. Your face contorting as if in pain as Santiago continues to grind two girthy fingers over your folds. Your companion had made you wet, but nothing like this. All he’s doing is feeling you, coating himself, and Santiago has you drenched already; you can feel it slick against your inner thighs as you tremble under the weight of yourself, suddenly so heavy with lust that you can barely stand. 

Your arms wind around his neck to steady yourself and he pins you between him and the fridge, your fingers inching up through the buzzed hair at his neck, nails trailing over his scalp and up into his grizzled curls as you finally become molten against him. Your hands fist in his hair and you tug his head up towards your lips, earning a grunt from him as pain needles across his scalp. The sound is growled into your mouth as his snarled kiss crashes against yours.

He’s frustrated, and he’s jealous, and he wants to show you that you’re his. What’s more, you want him to show you. Oh, how you want him to.

You shudder against the sudden blunt pressure of two of Santiago’s fingers at your entrance, your need urgent and a tightness building so immediately in your core. He pushes himself more firmly up against you, pinning you between his taut body and the fridge. His tongue ravages your mouth and your pleas for him to touch you become incoherent sounds that you work into him in return. His kiss is rough, his teeth scathing you, lips on yours in a crush, stubble grating at your chin and cheeks as he opens himself up as if to devour you. Then, he sucks your bottom lip in between his own and clamps his teeth down until you howl against the sting of it, bucking your body against the pain as you cry into his mouth. 

With the bucking of your hips, you grind yourself against his hand, and Santiago barely needs to move as you willingly spear yourself on his fingers. He leaves you wanting though, allowing you just an inch of him when he has so much more to give. Already, the ridges of him against you are providing divine friction, his fingers curling and scissoring inside you, but he leaves you begging for more. Begging him to plunge himself all the way in. 

“Did you think about me when you took him? Did you use him and wish it was me between your legs?” Santiago’s voice is like gravel in the shell of your ear, and his words curl into the depths of you. With them, he thrusts his fingers angrily into your heat, driving himself in all the way to the knuckle. Your eyes practically roll back into your head as he thrusts harshly and asks you again, even more insistent. “Did you?”

“Yes,” you admit, in a broken voice, tugging him closer to you, crushing your lips onto the column of his neck, tugging the collar of his shirt aside until you can bite down into the meat of his shoulder, stifling your moans there as his pace intensifies. His fingers are curling relentlessly towards your sweet spot and your walls are already fluttering against him. The heel of his hand is rocking against your excruciatingly sensitive clit, applying steady rolls of pressure as his fingers delve into you. His watch strap digs into your pubic bone but for some reason it only adds to the heightened sensations coursing through you. 

“Do I make you feel good? Do I make you feel better with my fingers than he could with his whole body, huh?” 

His words practically make you sob into him. It’s dirtier than you’ve ever heard him talk. It’s more intimate and further from friendship than anything you’ve done with him so far. Yes, you’ve fucked but this… this is something else. This is you admitting you are entirely his. This feels simultaneously more like battle and more like surrender than it ever has. And you wholly surrender. 

You moan. You moan out loud despite the fact you shouldn’t. Despite the fact there’s still another man in the apartment who you had underneath you only moments ago. 

“Are you gonna come on my fingers – show me who you belong to?” 

You agree. You agree wholeheartedly. 

Santiago pulls back just to watch you. To see the pleasure play over your face, both the overabundance of it and dearth of it as every touch satisfies yet has you craving more. You see a prideful glow in his eyes that he has you this wrecked, mewling and writhing on him as he adds a third finger into your wetness and pumps himself hard in and out of you. 

“Fuck,” he intones, his voice hollowed-out. “You’re fucking drenched. Wettest I’ve ever felt.” God. You can hear how wet you are. 

In dire need of some relief himself, Santiago presses his clothed, hardened length against your hip as he continues to pump his fingers in and out of you. Even through the substantial fabric of his jeans you can feel the thick, hard promise of him as he begins to grind himself against you, low and guttural moans escaping his sweet lips. The fact that he’s so fucking desperate for you, that you have made him hot enough to get off from only this has a knot tightening in the pit of you as you watch him start to unravel alongside you. 

“Fuck, Santi,” you moan into the air, not even caring that there’s someone else in the apartment. Past caring about anything at all except your need for him to keep touching you, his fingers filling you up so well. 

“That’s it, baby. Say my name, say you’re mine.”

Santiago is still grinding his clothed length against you, even as his fingers overflow with your essence. He dips his head into the crook of your neck and the growl he emits fans over your skin. Makes it sound as if he’s about to lose it too, simply from this. His spare hand dips down to collect one of your breasts and he lifts your nipple into his mouth, sucking and tonguing and biting the peak of you, squeezing you -not gently- as you topple towards your end. 

He continues to grind against you, and the thought of him exploding in his pants for you tips you over the edge, his name tumbling from your lips over and over as you flutter and clench around his fingers. The feeling spreading outward through your body like an explosion, leaving you levelled, a resounding buzz reaching all the way to your extremities and whiting out your vision like a flashbang. Your fingers tangle in Santiago’s curls as you spasm against him, his fingers eking every last drop of pleasure from you - as though he knows his way around you better than anyone could. 

At the feel and sound and sight of you coming undone, his hardened length grinds on you with renewed vigour, a wracked and disbelieving moan stuttering through him as he loses it without you having laid a finger on him. His body becomes stiff against you as he pulses his seed out beneath his clothes. Something about him being so lost in desire for you that he’d make a mess of himself like that has you clenching with deep, generous aftershocks, adrift with the thought of his hardened length pearling with his warm release.  

Santiago’s head settles into the crook of your neck as you both come down together, even as his fingers continue to lazily pulse in and out of you - just to feel you. Your arms lovingly cradle his head, fingers tangling in his curls, your lips finding their way to his hairline to plant gentle kisses there. Your Santiago. In your arms. 

You stay there a moment until your jagged breathing and thrumming heart settle, enjoying him languorously touching you. With a shiver of contentment, he withdraws from your heat, wrapping his unsullied hand around your waist to pull you closer. 

For a moment, everything is in soft focus, like the break of day before an alarm.  You close your eyes against his touch and breathe him in as he whispers lovingly into your neck, planting light kisses where a moment ago his puckered lips left angry bruises. 

“Fuck. I love you. I love you. I adore you. I need you.”

When you don’t respond though, Santiago stills against you, lifting his head to look you dead in the eyes. He finds them tearing in the corners. 

Your voice begins weakly. “You love me, Santi. But do you want a life with me? A life outside of the mission, outside of all of this?”

He brushes his thumb softly over your jawline. “I know I haven’t been all in. But I swear it to you, baby... you’re my end game. It’s just, we’re not there yet. We’re too deep in this shit. If we can get one more of Lorea’s deputies then maybe-”

“-Sure,” you say sadly, the word heavy and the intimacy of the moments prior dissipating quickly. You know fine well what “one more” means. You dip to collect your sheet from the floor and tighten it around yourself, using the motion in a vague attempt to distract both Santiago and yourself from the tears threatening more violently in your eyes now. 

The footsteps you hear approaching the kitchen are a further welcome distraction, and you surreptitiously clean off Santiago’s hand on the already soiled sheet before your first companion of the evening (now fully clothed) pops his head around the doorframe. 

“I’m just gonna leave,”  he interjects awkwardly, and your cheeks flush in humiliation. You’re sure one day, far into the future, this may be a funny story you tell, but, right now? It feels more than a little mortifying. 

“I’m so sorry. I…” You reach for a more robust apology but come up with nothing, far too aware that Santiago’s eyes continue to needle you. What are you going to do? Tell him it was fun? And so, since you opt to leave it hanging, your companion simply pumps his eyebrows once before striding smoothly out of your apartment. You jump slightly as you hear the door slamming shut behind him, evidently feeling a little on edge despite being wrung out so recently by bliss.  

Your eyes linger on the doorframe a little too long, staring at nothing except the now vacated space. You’re not ready to turn your attention back to Santiago quite yet, and you’re much less ready to deal with what will follow. 

It turns out, you don’t even have to look back at him, because your cowardice says it all for you. Instead, a small voice escapes him. 

“You’re still gonna go, aren’t you?”

You look at him then, and you see a sadness blooming in his eyes which is so heart-breaking that you're half-glad when tears gather in your own, blurring-out the sight of him. His pain always was too much for you to look at. 

Your gladness is short-lived however, as your own tears begin to spill out of you. You wipe the deluge away with the heel of your hand, but the tears are coming quicker than you can mop them up. Your chest shakes as you speak your next words. 

“I love you, Santi. Believe me. I love you. But it’s always ‘just one more’.” One more woman. One more mission. One more way to break your heart. “You’re living like... like you can get to the end of the line and wish for one more fucking chance.”

“Don’t go. Please,” he pleads, moving close to you and wrapping his arms around you. His broad, warm hands at your back. “Please. I’m putting it on the line here. I want you. I love you.” 

You smile thinly at him. You know he’s trying and God, you love him too. But this? For you, it’s too little, too late. For him, you guess you’re asking for too much, too soon. He’s not ready to leave this life. He’s not even ready to imagine leaving it. But, oh boy, you are. You are. 

You sniffle and take a deep, steadying breath, giving it everything you have to stay firm, despite every fibre in you telling you to surrender. To just stay with him. It would be too easy to do. 

“It’s a hard out, Santi.”

He senses the finality of your words and nods slowly, his eyes shining with tears, his whole face becoming taut with emotion. His silence is prolonged as he draws in ragged breaths. His hands slip away from your back and the moment slips away with them. You miss the warmth of them instantly. 

“Okay,” he says in a small, curt voice. “Okay.”

He about turns, precise and efficient, swivelling towards the door and tracking along the hallway leading out of your apartment.

“Santi, wait!” you call, traipsing along after him, slowed by the material bundling at your feet. “Santiago Garcia, don’t you dare leave it like this,” you plead. “Not after everything.”

He turns his head back towards you as he swings open your front door. His eyes are cold, face set as he looks at you, his voice monotone. “I’m not the one leaving.”

An anger and a sadness erupt in you at the coldness, the cruelness of his words, and, apparently, not even the sight of the fresh batch of tears spilling down your cheeks can slow his retreat from your apartment.

Santiago “Pope” Garcia turns and swiftly walks out without looking back, leaving the door swinging violently on its hinges. The fucking nerve of this man. 

You start after him; but he’s already making his way down the stairwell and you’re in no position to chase him. Your pain boiling over you yell, voice creaking under the weight of your emotion. 

“I hope your fucking knees give out on the way down, you asshole.”

Your cruel, cheap words carry down the stairwell, yet an echo is all the response you get. Santiago is gone. He didn’t stop for a second. 

He doesn’t know how to stop.

He’s mission over emotion. Near-death over living. He’s seemingly in this until it kills him, but you can’t be in it anymore. You have always been his ride or die, but now is the time for you to live, even if that means you can no longer be side-by-side with him. 

He is the other half of you and no matter where you are to go, your bodies will move through the world as a team, one unable to be read without the other. Santiago is written all over you, and nothing can change that. 

Besides, you know if he really wants to, he can always come find you. He has a map for loving you, if he would ever follow the route it was trying to take him. But he’s not there yet. 

He just has one more mission to go.

And then the next.

And the next. 

And the next. 

#santiago pope garcia x reader #santiago garcia x reader #triple frontier #oscar isaac