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#so i don’t really see them being good intimate friends
compacflt · 5 months
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this is a bit of an ask inspired by another ask (and also ridiculously silly) but what’s the boys’ relationship with penny like in the future?? i loved the little snippet of her at bradley’s wedding and ice trying to figure out if she’s a threat or not (and then maverick coming back from dancing and saying he couldn’t stop gushing over ice….ugh!!!) but do they become good solid friends? I like the idea of them expanding their circle now that they can trust more people…even if one of those people are one of maverick’s exes
additionally: do her and ice ever talk about their shared experiences (not sex, ice would probably keel over and die, but just…having a relationship with mav)? the thought of penny cornering him is ridiculously funny to me. or maybe they never reach that point of comfort 🤷‍♀️ i just need to know if she ever takes them both sailing and ice gets a chance to laugh at mav on a boat
[also, in all sincerity, I have an unhealthy amount of things to say about this series and I’m a bit sad it’s over, but I love everything you’ve done <3 I could compliment it for days on end and probably never run out of things to say]
ice to Penny at mav’s birthday party sometime over the last five years: Hey! Good to see you again :) thanks for coming …
Penny, apropos of nothing: so.,. weve never talked one-on-one… but. You and i have both been inside Pete Mitchell at some point ?
ice:
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stillmonsterz · 2 months
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when you split the heart open
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pairing: heeseung x reader, jake x reader (kind of)
genre: smut, angst (?)
summary: heeseung is dating the girl of his dreams. the only problem? he has to have sex with her.
warnings: unprotected sex, swearing, voyeurism, name-calling, manipulation, exhibitionism, dubcon, public sex, humiliation (?), heeseung is a cuck
word count: 5.1k
---
Heeseung had a girlfriend, and she was amazing. She was pretty, smart, funny, and her body was out of this world. She had a particular vibrancy and joie de vivre that made spending time with her invigorating. She was the opposite of a dead fish in the bedroom- she was vocal, enthusiastic, and loved to please him.
He disliked having sex with her.
Sometimes he almost pitied her; she would seduce him in any way she could, winding her hips seductively, crawling towards him on the bed wearing nothing but thigh-high socks, rubbing his crotch under the table when they ate out, anything to catch his attention. Of course, he didn’t pass up a good fuck – he wasn’t insane – but it did nothing for him but provide a quick release.
It wasn’t like he didn’t love her, he did. He was convinced that someday, he could even marry her. It’s just that he found that he loved her best when she was farther away from him, someone he could admire rather than keep. Heeseung found her beautiful at 11 pm, when she would dance alone in her bedroom wearing a baggy T-shirt. Or when she would shove her face into her pillow and thrust the end of a hairbrush into her pussy. It was an amazing night when he had caught that- he had been parked outside of her apartment complex, so he got a side-view, and the camera he had set up in her closet gave him a perfect shot of her smooth legs and raised ass. The day after that, when they had had sex in his van, the memory of her chasing her orgasm got him to finish.
Heeseung was a voyeur, and he was starting to think that it was becoming a problem. And it wasn’t even a problem he could complain about; in a moment of weakness, he had told his best friend Jay that he didn’t like how frequently his girlfriend wanted sex, and Jay had heavily implied that Heeseung was gay.
He was getting really sick and tired of having to fuck his girlfriend all the time. Heeseung had suggested mutual masturbation, which backfired. It ended up being too intimate for him and it just got her hot. She had pounced on him and ridden him as if her life depended on it.
At times, he missed how things were before they started dating. He had met her at her job, and had never revisited. Instead, he had waited for her shift to finish, followed her home, and tugged himself dry while he watched her undress in her room. The curtains were too sheer, and sometimes she wouldn’t even draw them. It made him think she wanted him to see her, and the thought of that always made him harder.
She had approached him at the local grocery store, as he was buying ramen noodles. She had said that she had wanted to see him again, Heeseung had made up some excuse, and through a series of events that Heeseung hadn’t lived through so much as passively observed, they had ended up dating.
It had been eight months of dating, cuddling, and sex, and he felt exhausted. He wanted things to go back to normal, but he also loved spending time with her. So he started making up excuses to not sleep with her. Headaches, shifts at work, weird erections from his medication.
One day, a few days after their eight month anniversary where Heeseung had reluctantly eaten her out, she confronted him. They were sitting on his couch, playing Mario Kart, when she turned to him.
“Do you still like me?” she asked, voice shaky.
Heeseung shut the TV off immediately. “Huh? Of course I like you- baby, I love you.” He rested his hands on hers as they clutched the controller.
“Then why don’t you like sleeping with me?”
“No, no, I…” Heeseung hesitated. This was the perfect time to come clean. They could work things out, maybe. It would be good to get it off his chest. “Okay. Okay, I’ve been having a…problem. It has nothing to do with you, I promise.”
Her eyes were wide and glassy. She was wearing his large hoodie and a pair of dolphin shorts. She looked perfect. “A problem?”
“Yes, a problem. I…I…look. I like you. I love you. You’re my girl.” Heeseung reached out and stroked her cheek gently. “The problem is that you’re just…like an angel to me. It feels wrong when I…when I fuck you.”
“What?” It came out as a squeak, and she recoiled from his touch. “Feels wrong?”
“No, no, not that you’re wrong, it’s me, it’s that…” Heeseung sighed. “I like to look at you I like seeing you move, it’s like art come to life. It feels like when I touch you, I’m sullying something beautiful, something that needs to be kept clean.” Heeseung thought that if he made it sound more romantic and less like a paraphilia, she would be more inclined to hear him out. And to his glee, she slowly leaned into his touch again, her cheek rubbing against his hand.
“You find me beautiful?”
“You are the most gorgeous woman I have ever met,” he said, staring her in her luminous eyes. “Too gorgeous for me.”
“You aren’t,” she said imploringly, holding his wrist with her two hands. “Heeseung, I love you. And I really like having sex with you. Why did you sleep with me all those times if you didn’t enjoy it?”
“I did enjoy it, I did. I just…I wanted to make you happy, baby.” Heeseung kissed her forehead. “Your happiness matters the most to me. I’d do anything for you.”
“And I’d do anything for you,” she said, leaning in to kiss him on the lips. He kissed her vack, cupping her face in his hands.
“Anything for me?”
“Anything, Heeseung.”
“I have an idea.”
He clambered into his room and pulled out his hairbrush. “Just…just use this to get off, okay?” He handed it to her, and she accepted it slowly, turning it over like it was a foreign object.
His girlfriend looked up at him. “Right now?”
Heeseung shook his head. “Not yet. Hold on.” He ran to his room again and found an old handheld camcorder.
She squinted at it. “You’re going to film me?”
“No, it’s dead,” he lied. “See?” He showed her the black screen. “I’m just going to use this to mimic the feeling of….uh, awayness. Like an extra screen between you and I.”
She fiddled with the hairbrush, feeling its smooth wooden end with her thumb. “Well…I mean, I’m not really in the mood right now….”
“You’re always in the mood,” he replied, frustration slowly building in him. “I swear you’re like a dog in heat sometimes.”
His girlfriend’s eyes widened again. “What?”
“You’re always asking to get fucked. You’re like a nymphomaniac, I swear. I bet you go home and hump your pillows right after I turn you out because you just can’t get enough.” Heeseung had seen exactly that from one of his midnight excursions to her place.
“I’m not a nympho-,”
“Oh, yes you are. Whores like to get fucked less than you do. I can only imagine how much you got around before I cuffed you.” He saw her shove one hand down her dolphin shorts. He raised the camera with a smile.
“I’m a whore?” Her face was flushed, and her eyes were squeezed shut.
“You’re a whore who gets off to being called a whore. Good fucking thing you’re with me, or else you would have been taken advantage of already, especially with that slutty body of yours.”
To his growing delight, she had tugged her shorts off and slipped her dainty little panties off. The end of his hairbrush slipped deftly in and out of her glistening folds.
Heeseung stopped talking, as so not too ruin the footage with his voice. He just watched her circle her clit with her manicured fingers, watched her pussy swallow the hairbrush.
“Heeseung,” she moaned, and he scowled, cutting the video short.
“Don’t say my name,” he said. “And keep your eyes shut.” When her eyes fluttered shut, he turned the camera on. He stroked himself in time with the insertion of the hairbrush. Seeing her splayed out on his couch, her head tossed back, his hoodie riding up to expose her soft tummy…it was amazing. And the fact that she didn’t know he was filming her made it all the better. It was forbidden, it was wrong, it was perfect. When she came, she nearly said his name again, but she cut herself off instead. He didn’t let himself cum, but he moaned and pretended like he did too.
Heeseung kissed his girlfriend, licked the sweat off of her face. “Perfect,” he murmured. “So perfect for me.”
“Thank you,” she whispered.
The second she left his house, he sniffed the couch, the exact place where she had sat as they had played video games. Her scent was so strong; he buried his face into the faux leather and inhaled deeply. Heeseung closed his eyes, imagined her masturbating herself all alone in room, and finished all over the couch.
He was going to have so much fun.
The platonic aspects of their relationship stayed the same. They would have simple at-home dates, occasionally going out to restaurants or the movies or anywhere she liked. Heeseung didn’t really care what they did as a couple. He just liked to be around her.
They still had sex, but it had gone from several times a week to once every two weeks. It was still a dreaded task for Heeseung, but it balanced out now that they had incorporated his voyeuristic tendencies into their relationship.
On movie dates, he made sure to get tickets in a theatre with a sparse audience. Then, he would leave his seat, sitting a few rows back, and watch his girlfriend play with herself, fondling her tits and slipping a hand into her jeans. If they went to the beach, Heeseung would take her to a secluded spot, tell her to lie down on a towel, and to strip. She would sunbathe completely nude,  rubbing lotion all over herself.
When she would go out with her friends, Heeseung would periodically text her, asking her to unbutton a few of her buttons, or to send him a picture of her panties. He asked her to fuck herself in public bathrooms and to send videos for proof. He would lazily stroke his cock to the grainy footage of her sliding her fingers in and out of her tight pussy. When she told him that men were hitting on her, he would text, “Good job.” Then he would tell her to unbutton another few buttons, or to part her legs as she rode the subway. What he would really like would be for her to walk around dressed in a tiny little crop top that showed the underside of her breasts and shorts that displayed her bare ass, but Heeseung knew he was already asking for a lot.
A few times, he had strapped her to his bed with rope, so that her arms and legs were bound. He had affixed a phone-controlled vibrator between her thighs, and he watched her writhe on his bed with glee. Heeseung watched her have orgasm after orgasm, and if she begged him to stop he would get angry. He would complain that she had ruined it. He would pry her mouth open with his fingers, and she would suck him off to completion. Then he would start the process over again, until her face was flushed, her legs would shake, and he could even glimpse her pussy clenching around nothing. It was fun for him, but eventually he grew tired of watching it. He had tried making it more interesting by binding her fingers in front of her hole so she could tremblingly fuck herself, but the rush of that wore off too. Heeseung needed something more, something that could sate his urges.
So he had asked for something else.
---
“You want me to do what?” They were at a café, and she put down the croissant she had been nibbling.
Heeseung raised his hands. “You don’t have to do it. It was just a suggestion.”
“Heeseung, I know you’re struggling, but…nude karaoke?”
He sighed and looked away from her. “I know, I’m sorry. It’s just…it’s getting hard, you know. I love you, and I feel like I’m not good enough for you. It’s really messing with me, up here…” Heeseung tapped the side of his head. “I feel like a freak.”
Her face softened, and she reached out to hold his hand. “You’re not a freak, my love. You’re just…”
“A perv who wants his girlfriend to get nude in front of strangers.” Heeseung laughed humorlessly. “Yeah, I’m really normal.”
“You’re not a perv, either.” She swallowed. “I mean…this could actually be good for me. It could help me explore my sexuality more.” She squeezed his hand and mustered up a smile. “I think we should try it?”
Heeseung didn’t allow himself to smile. “Yeah? I mean, are you sure?”
“I’m sure,” she said firmly. “I want to do this.”
He leaned across the table and kissed her all over her face. “Thank you, thank you, thank you. You’re the nicest girl ever.”
That night was nude karaoke night at a local var. When they arrived, there were only a five dozen or so attendees, mainly men. They were sitting around a makeshift stage in wooden chairs that had been dragged from the surrounding tables. A woman was there, warbling a song as she swayed her hips. The men seemed bored, and Heeseung started to feel prideful. His girl, who was wearing a loose white dress and had folded her arms tightly around her chest, was so much prettier than that other woman. These men were going to shit themselves when she started to sing.
The woman finished her song, and the applause was scattered. Then his girlfriend slowly walked onto the stage, her heels clacking against the floor. Her hands were scrunched into fists. As she adjusted the mic, one man yelled, “Take your tits out, now!”
Another said, “Don’t look so shy, sweetheart.”
Heeseung was elated.
She introduced the song she was going to sing – Fade Into You by Mazzy Star. Heeseung had heard her sing that one; her voice had always sounded so melancholic, fragile, and sweet. He smiled at her encouragingly.
The intro to the song played, and she pulled her dress off, revealing her stunning body. The men whooped and cheered, hurling vulgarities at her. She tried to sing, clutching the microphone tightly, but the jeering was loud. As Heeseung scanned the small space, he saw that the men around him were either stroking their bulges covertly or outright jerking themselves off.
His girlfriend kept singing with her eyes closed. Heeseung wanted her to open them, so she could see the effect he was having on all of those men. They were all drooling after her, calling her a slut, saying that she must be tight, that they would fuck up whoever got to tap that pussy. Heeseung jerked himself off right there, joining in the orgiastic atmosphere of the cramped little bar. He watched her sing, his heart full.
When she finished, the patrons begged her to keep singing. They tossed money at her, wadded bills. She glanced at Heeseung, who nodded, and so she continued to sing, this time quietly crooning In The Mood For Love.
A man told her to play with her tits while she sang, and she did, running her thumb along her nipples. It was more than Heeseung could handle, and he came halfway through the song.
After her second performance, she hurried off of the stage, collecting some of the money before pulling her dress on. She ran out, which was smart, because the men were starting to clamor for her to do worse acts. Heeseung followed after her, and before he opened his car, he kissed her in the parking lot.
“That was amazing,” he whispered, kissing her again. “So amazing. Your voice is beautiful.”
She scoffed. “My voice?”
Heeseung shrugged playfully. “And, you know, your body. You looked sexy up there. Everyone thought so.”
His girlfriend rested her hands against his chest. “Did you think so?”
“Of course I did,” he said in a placating tone, stroking her hair. “Of course, baby.”
“You’re the only person I care about,” she said quietly.
“Me too.”
She hesitated. “Did you…like what I did? How did that make you feel, me going up there, naked, and…”
Heeseung tilted her chin up with his finger. “I loved it. I fucking loved it. I came in mere minutes. You’re amazing, baby.”
She reached out to hug him, and he wrapped his arms around her. Heeseung held her like she would slip away from him.
--
After that, she became different. Without even asking, she had started to wear tighter, shorter clothes. She used to go out in dresses, worn jeans, or she’d just wear his hoodies. Now, she wore bodycon dresses, miniskirts that practically gave you peeks of her ass, and she had cut her shirts up so that they displayed her midriff. It was amazing.
He liked to parade her around the mall now. The sight of men and women alike ogling his girlfriend made his cock so hard, he would walk with a limp. When he couldn’t handle it anymore, he would take her into the family bathroom, or slip into a change room and fuck her in there. Public sex was marginally better than regular sex with her, because he liked to imagine that men were fantasizing about her. He would close his eyes and imagine her naked, standing like a mannequin in a store, and all of the men who had lasciviously eyed her in the mall being forced to see her but unable to touch. It was a glorious time.
The novelty wore off after a few months, and he lost interest in having sex with her again. She could tell, and he knew that she was getting nervous. She performed at nude karaoke again, but even that did nothing for him.
He knew what he wanted from her.
On their first anniversary as a couple, Heeseung had taken her to brunch at a restaurant she had been eyeing. She wore this little black crop top with a tiny skirt, and her makeup was perfect.
Towards the end of their meal, Heeseung dabbed his mouth with a napkin. “Baby,” he began, staring her in the eyes, “you are my better half. I can’t believe I’ve been able to spend a full year with you. You’re so kind, so sweet, so understanding, and so gorgeous.” He reached out and kissed her hand, and she giggled. “You’re the light of my life. You’re my reason to go on, and you deserve the moon. Unfortunately, all I can offer you is this.” Heeseung pulled a small black box out of his jacket pocket.
With a smile so bright Heeseung swore it could cause flowers to bloom, she opened the box. She gasped when she saw the charm bracelet he had bought her. “Oh, Heeseung,” she said, covering her mouth with her hand. “This is so expensive.”
“You deserve it,” he said softly, taking the bracelet and slipping it onto her wrist. “You deserve the world, baby.”
“I have it right here,” she replied.
They shared a kiss, then Heeseung leaned into her ear. “I was thinking…we could make this anniversary even more special.”
Her lips curled into a mischievous little smile. “How?”
“You said you’d do anything for me, right?”
She pulled away from him slightly, her lips setting into a thin line.
“Right?” he asked firmly, taking hold of her hand.
“Of course,” she said frantically, “anything for you, my love.”
---
The motel that Heeseung had driven them to was shoddy and sleazy. There were people outside smoking on lawn chairs, and dilapidated cars filled the parking lot. The neon sign affixed to the window flashed its name: Ethan’s Motel. Heeseung ushered his girlfriend inside, and he took note of the people populating the motel. Tweakers, men in sweaty wife-beaters.
He wondered which one would give his girlfriend the best fuck.
In the end, he told her to find someone while he set up the rooms. She asked how, and he told her to just be upfront with them. Heeseung had bought two rooms, which stunk of dust and reeked of bodily fluids. He hid a small camera in a flower pot- his girlfriend didn’t know about that – and shoved a nail through the wall to make a small hole, just to cover his ass.
Then he went to the other room to set up his laptop, which showed the feed from the camera. He set that on the small desk directly in front of his bed.
Within ten minutes, his girlfriend was leading a man into the motel room. He looked around their age and had a shaggy mop of hair. He was shorter than Heeseung, so Heeseung figured that his dick was probably smaller, too. But his girlfriend wouldn’t mind that, he was sure- who knows how much random dick she’d bounced on before they dated? Anyways, her hookup looked nice enough, but then again, he was hanging around a place like this.
“What did you say your name was?” she asked, still holding his hand. She sat down on the bed, and the guy followed.
“Jake,” he said. “And yours?”
She told him her name, and he nodded.
“Well, you’re…you’re hot as hell,” Jake said, laughing awkwardly. He scratched the back of his neck. Heeseung was getting really pissed off, but he told himself to be patient.
“You’re not too bad yourself,” she said lowly, tracing a finger down Jake’s chest. Heeseung shivered. “I think you know how to please a woman, right?”
Jake smirked and slowly pushed Heeseung’s girlfriend down until he was hovering above her. “Come find out.”
Heeseung watched Jake make out with his girlfriend. He watched his girlfriend lie, refusing to even touch Jake. It made him frown. She was supposed to be enjoying this. He wanted to see her in the throes of ecstasy, wanted to see her in all of her hedonistic glory.
Finally, she kissed Jake back, and he started taking his clothes off. He seemed as frantic as Heeseung was. She undressed, casting her clothes aside, and Jake was on top of her again.
Jake shifted around so that her ass was above his face as she lied on top of him. He started to lick her pussy, firmly gripping her ass with both of her hands. She started to suck him off, only licking the tip at first before throating Jake’s cock.
Heeseung whimpered, unzipping his jeans and only allowing himself minimal pressure as he palmed himself over his boxers. If he didn’t pace himself, he was going to cum before the fun truly began.
Jake continued to eat Heeseung’s girlfriend out, and Heeseung could hear his moans through the door. His girlfriend was being incredibly quiet, however, which was annoying. She pulled herself off of Jake and sat at the head of the bed. She spread her legs and looked up at Jake with empty eyes. Jake crawled towards her, and from that angle Heeseung could only see his hips moving rapidly and his girlfriend’s legs quivering. Her hands feebly wrapped around Jake and hugged him tightly as she pounded her.
Then Jake laid flat on his back and she got on top of him. The way she arched her back, practically dancing on Jake’s dick, made Heeseung moan. She gripped Jake’s shoulders and took him to the hilt, her eyes closed. Jake was holding her hips and whispering, “Fuck, fuck that’s nice, fuck.” It was annoying that this shmuck didn’t have anything better to say, but Heeseung didn’t really care. He was forcing himself to stroke himself at a snail’s pace, when all he wanted to do was rub his dick raw.
His girlfriend got off of Jake’s cock and went on all fours, so that she was facing the TV of the motel room. In other words, she was facing Heeseung’s camera. It felt like magic, like she knew or something. He couldn’t take it anymore, and Heeseung spit in his hand and started stroking himself directly. Jake kneeled behind Heeseung’s girlfriend and started ramming into her, one hand slapping her ass and the other pulling her hair back.
Heeseung took in the details of her body; the shuddering of her torso, the trembling of her arms as she steadied herself on the bed, the way that her ass pressed against Jake’s groin as he pounded into her, the way her breasts freely shook, the conflicted expression on her perfect little face, the sheen of sweat covering her from her head to her toes. Heeseung had always known that she was beautiful, but now he swore that she was an angel.
Jake panted, “I’m close, fuck, fuck!” so Heeseung rubbed his cock even faster, his other hand squeezing his balls. It was an Olympic feat to suppress his growing orgasm, but he didn’t want to mess this up. Not when his girlfriend was whimpering so prettily, when she was so consumed by her own pleasure, guilt, and embarrassment that she had probably forgotten all about the camera filming it all. Heeseung thought he might die.
With a guttural moan, Jake came in her, weakly thrusting a few more times to drain the last of his cum. Then he let her drop onto the bed, and she collapsed like a rag doll. Heeseung came as well, biting his lip harshly so he wouldn’t moan. He milked his cock with a white-hot fervor, riding out his high for as long as he could. When the aftershock hit him, all he could do was take quick gasps of air. Heeseung licked his lips and tasted blood.
Jake stroked his girlfriend’s hair, kissed her forehead, then whispered something in her ear. The sight of her limp and pliant, barely lifting her head to talk to Jake, was so arousing that Heeseung wished he had it in him to jack off again. This footage would last him for months.
As Heeseung closes his eyes to relive the memory, Jake put his clothes on. He dug around in his jacket, pulled out a few bills, and left them on her back. He left, closing the door with a soft click. Heeseung’s girlfriend remained where she was, as stiff as a corpse. Heeseung didn’t leave his motel room right away, the images in his head too vivid, too lush.
Heeseung walked inside of the motel room, and the smell of sex was intoxicating. “Baby, that was amazing- you, you were amazing.” His grin is stretched maniacally wide, and his steps towards the hidden camera were buoyant. “I came so hard, baby. It was perfect, just perfect.” He removed the camera from the potted plant and tucked it carefully into its bag.
She hadn’t said a word, just resting on her stomach. Her eyes were closed, and her breathing was shaky. Poor thing, Heeseung thought, she hadn’t had a fucking like that since we got together. Poor little angel. He walked over to her and lay next to her on the bed. He kissed her over and over, holding her slick cheeks in her hands. “You’re so perfect,” Heeseung whispered. “Thank you so much, thank you, thank you. You’re amazing, thank you, thank you.”
She opened her eyes, and her apprehensive gaze made Heeseung’s cock stir. “I feel dirty,” she said, voice choked with emotion.
“No, baby,” he said, kissing her nose again. He gently crawls on top of her, circling his arms around her waist. “You’re not dirty. You’re good, so good. You’re the best. There’s nothing wrong with…with exploring. Didn’t it feel good? Didn’t you enjoy it?” His girlfriend hesitated, so he firmly said, “You enjoyed it. Right? I could tell you did.”
She nodded, bucking her head against his chin affectionately. “I did.”
“You did,” Heeseung breathed out. “I knew you would, my sweet girl.” His hand trailed down to his pants zipper, and he pulled his cock out. He gave it a few strokes, but the sight of another man’s cum coating her thighs was all the motivation he needed. “You’re the best,” he cooed, slipping inside of his girlfriend. It was so easy because she had been fucked open by Jake, and she took him so well. The only sound she made when he entered her was a soft little sigh.
Heeseung closed his eyes and thought of her face again, the contortion of her features into that portrait of debauchery. His arms remained tight around her in a stiff embrace, his cheek resting on her head. He thought about how amazing it would be to see another man fuck her again. Maybe two, three, a train of strangers having their turns with his girlfriend, his beautiful, kind girlfriend. Heeseung couldn’t have pulled out of her if he had tried as the fantasies overtake him. He finished inside of her, hot jizz clamoring out of him in spurts, and wiped his tip on one of the bills Jake left on her back. The room felt like it was spinning, and every nerve ending in his body felt alight with fire. “Thank you,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to her neck, “I love you so much.”
Heeseung pushes the money off of her back and carries his girlfriend into the small bathroom. He placed her inside of the cracked bathtub and filled it with warm water. He left her there to get her toiletry bag, and when he came back she was staring at the ceiling. As he scrubbed her body, he pressed kisses to her skin. He washed her like a piece of alabaster pottery, washing her thoroughly. When he dried her off, he noticed that she hadn’t said a single word. “Baby?”
She doesn’t respond.
“Baby?”
“Yeah?”
“I love you.”
“I love you too, Heeseung.”
He carried her to bed and dressed her in her grey robe. He stripped to his boxers and kissed her cheeks before he pulled the covers over them both. He pulled her head onto his chest and stroked her soft, downy hair.
He had never felt so in love.
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alargehunkofdebris · 9 months
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Aziraphale’s reaction to the kiss: A Breakdown (that’s it that’s the reaction.)
A lot of people say that this anguish Aziraphale feels after the kiss is due to this feeling of “Why now? Why didn’t you do this before, when I wanted you to?” And I think that can be part of it, for sure. But man, that’s just one part of this gigantic, writhing ball of emotions in Aziraphale in that moment, all of them fighting each other, all of them painful. I’m going to breakdown the breakdown, because writing essays analyzing the minds of fictional characters is apparently all I want to do these days. Also, judging by this absolute nutball of a season that confirmed literally multiple “bit of a stretch” deep dives, I feel I can ignore that little voice whispering “this is silly” into my ear. I can dive as deep as I want, because there goes Neil Gaiman with an aqualung, swimming deeper.  
So. The kiss, and why Aziraphale looks so gosh darned sad about it. 
First of all, there’s shock. Major shock. Because despite everything, he still likely never thought this would ever actually happen. (Him and me both.) Or maybe – a small maybe, but a maybe that I might put a dollar on, if the odds were good – the idea of kissing Crowley never occurred to his conscious brain before at all. He’s so good at compartmentalizing and denying that it’s very possible he’s managed to nip every intrusive thought before it went far enough to be fully conscious.
Then, there’s fear of being seen. (“Who is watching? Will the Metatron see? He only allowed me to work with Crowley after he regained angelic status – if he sees me and Crowley now –”) Then, a layer deeper, there’s his ever-present fear response to things going too fast, because despite how we all know he feels, he’s still not sure he’s ready for any kind of partnership, let alone one this intimate and close. Because even for humans, this is a really, really big jump – we typically don’t kiss when we haven’t even been on a date (officially) yet, and usually not before both parties admit to their feelings.
Then, even deeper, is that anguished, heartbroken “Why now? My God, why now?” response, because his subconscious has always wanted this, but also knows that this is the worst possible time for it to happen, and now he’s lost that first kiss with Crowley—the one he wanted, anyway. The one that was supposed to be filled with joy, and is instead marked with the worst pain he’s ever felt.
Then there’s the second “Why now” response, and this is where I might be dipping a toe into the Hot Take puddle. Because I think there’s that knee-jerk fear response he’s yet to shake, and which overtakes his rational thinking whenever he’s terrified of Heaven or unsure of himself. It’s the suspicion he’s always held of Crowley. He’s thinking “Why now?” as in, “Is this the temptation that God and Heaven warned me about? Is this Crowley the Serpent, fulfilling his duty? Is this the true proffered apple, a kiss that’s meant to keep me from serving Heaven? Is he tempting me, knowing how I feel, knowing I’m weak?”
That’s the true anguish of this scene, I think. He’s fighting all these feelings, but on top is this old fear, this old anger and suspicion of Crowley, assuming he’s lying. Demons lie, Crowley admitted it himself. Crowley is the original Serpent of Eden, designed to tempt people away from God. And this feeling is what’s on top, because the alternative is…what? That Crowley actually feels this way? That Crowley, a demon, loves him, Aziraphale, enough to be this vulnerable, with no wicked ulterior motive? Aziraphale is a lot of things, but he’s certainly not a being who thinks he’s desirable. He sees himself as opposite to Crowley, and if Crowley is temptation personified, Aziraphale is then the personification of undesirableness. Deep down, this idea of the Serpent of Eden being tempted by him, Aziraphale, is simply ludicrous.
And then there’s self-hatred that he even thinks this thought of his friend, then suspicion, then fear again, then confusion, then anguish, then fear, then pain, and so on. All of this happens in a few seconds, and all of it coalesces into a singular takeaway: “This is the worst.” And because the one who technically caused it is Crowley, Aziraphale does what he does very well: he forgives Crowley, because he’s too prim and angelic to say “Goddamn you,” which is what he truly means. Goddamn you for making me feel this way. Goddamn you for making me doubt you. Goddamn you for forcing this option on me, when I can no longer take it, and when I don’t even know if it’s real. Goddamn you for putting this apple in my hands when we both know I can’t eat it. Goddamn you for reminding me that no matter what, it is not in my stars to live a happy life. 
1K notes · View notes
charmercharm3r · 9 months
Text
Make Love, Not Porn
Play Time!
HHJ
Masterlist, Series Masterlist
18+ content — minors, do not interact.
wc: 3.8k
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: barista!hyunjin x cam girl!reader, smut, explicit sexual content, masturbation (m, f), he's a little obsessed, easing into the smuttier smut if that's even a thing.
Live : Play Time!
Next Scheduled Broadcast : Heat Signature
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☆゚
Rule number one; everybody is temporary.
There is no love in this industry, no trust, no friends, only coworkers that all want the same thing. Sometimes you work with them more than once, other times– most times, it’s a one-and-done deal.
They never want to stay anyways, you learned that lesson the hard way. It’s why you set up such a tough wall to break through, there’s no point in befriending anyone on your side of the pond.
It’s scary, really, how quickly you can be moaning someone’s name, kissing them like you need them to breathe, touching and feeling them as intimately as someone who truly was in love. Then as soon as the livestream ends, you can’t remember what their lips feel like and everything smells like latex and sweat. You offer them some water, snacks, a shower. They usually decline. Minutes later, your front door is shutting and you’re alone once again.
No one ever intends on getting into porn, you don’t even remember the details on how you ended up here. Your follower count had risen overnight and before you knew it, that one video had gotten you more money in a week than a month’s worth of minimum wage ever did. The humiliation was nonexistent considering you hadn’t even posted yourself naked that first time, if anything you were excited to post again. Who knew a video of you just sitting in a chair, playing with yourself under your skirt with your knees pressed closed would take off so rapidly. That thirty second video changed your life.
– fuck, who is this?? are they new??
– thats so hot. face reveal?
– show us your tits
– god i wanna fuck u so bad
– suck my dick pls
Those comments didn’t bother you, it was a little flattering if you were being honest with yourself. People wanted you, they don’t even know your real name, have never seen your face or what you look like in the sunlight. They don’t know you and yet, you’re everything to them, so much so that they pay you for your time, and body. They fill your wallet just for you to read their comment out loud, attention whores for you. And you love it. For some reason, their praise is much more fulfilling than anyone you've guested on your livestreams.
Recently, though, you’ve stopped bringing people on, not much to your viewer’s disapproval. There was more interaction and less vulgarity, like they wanted you to actually speak to them rather than just stuff your pussy with whatever new dildo you’d been gifted in your PO box.
You hadn’t planned on having such a personal stream today, you honestly just wanted the relief and thought your viewers would have a good time. But for some reason, the comments were less about getting you to take your clothes off and more about why your voice was shaking.
“It’s okay, I’m okay. Really!” Even you could hear the subtle octave change. “If you wanted me to cry, you could’ve just said please. You know I’ll do anything for you.” 
Perhaps the forced sultriness of your voice worked its charm, the comments quickly switched back to their normal obscenities once you started to unbutton your top. Truthfully, you preferred when they asked you to get naked, it was a lot easier to do than to admit what it was you were really lacking. Honest companionship is the rarest thing.
Rule number two: no identifying features.
Even if you weren’t ashamed, your job is still taboo. No one and everyone knew what it was you did. Your best friend helped you pick lingerie and background mood lighting, your parents thought you were an office worker. Strangers have seen your most private parts, you only allow your grandma to give you a kiss on the cheek during Christmas. Safe to say your occupation was strictly need-to-know.
You’re glad you started live streaming before deciding to get any tattoos, running the risk of someone stopping you in the middle of the street was the most terrifying thing you could imagine happening. Naturally, you avoided getting anything at all once your streams started to really take off.
There was nothing you wore to accessorize unless a patron paid for it in advance, that was always done a week before streams and the contact with the patron was never more than a simple google form and an email from your business account to confirm. Other than that, you were a blank canvas, just a body with a voice that left more to the imagination than you would think. If your viewers were happy, you were happy.
“What do you think of my new nail color? A special someone picked it out for me,” you held out your hands to display the pretty shine, twiddling your fingers. The comments went crazy, “no, no, not anyone like that, c’mon! You know you’re my number one. But I think you should all give lovely user callingherdaddy a thank you for picking it out. Thank you, sir.”
You took the polish off the next morning.
Rule number three: be consistent.
Nothing kills a steady income more than ghosting the ones that put the money in your pocket. You stuck to a strict schedule of three streams every week and frequent posts on your socials. The stuff you posted on your social media wasn’t even related to your work on camming, but it doesn’t hurt when they leave a couple nice comments. 
With a schedule and job like yours, you need a little bit of normalcy. Self employed, you don’t have a real routine when you aren’t streaming. It was starting to make you feel lazy, a bit lethargic, and overall unmotivated.
It wasn’t until recently did you decide to start doing normal people things, like waking up at 7 a.m., doing a mini work out, grocery shopping in the morning, even getting yourself a coffee from the shop near your house as a treat. Doing this was nice, you felt good, your head was clearer. Hell, you even got excited when it came time to do your cams because you felt so full of energy.
You had only been to the coffee shop once or twice before, but to get yourself to keep the routine, you told yourself you’d go every day for the next two weeks. Afterall, it only takes 21 days to form a habit.
It was packed, as usual for a morning weekday. There were only about six baristas working, all scurrying about the bar to get through the morning rush. You liked watching them, mindlessly completing drinks in such a way that made you a little jealous. Most of them seemed your age, obviously you knew that they couldn’t have all had perfect lives, but at least this part of their day was something they could openly complain about.
Were you really jealous? Of normal people? You had to be insane.
Shaking your head, you walked further into the shop and waited in line. You thought nothing of it, placing your order, “iced chai with three blonde shots, please,” and handed the barista the card, “thank you.”
You barely looked up at him, only when he held onto your card a little longer as you tried to take it back did you make eye contact. A little awkward, the barista was staring at you with wide eyes. He was handsome, too handsome to be working behind the counter. Long black hair framed his face nicely, pretty plump lips, and an endearing little mole under his eye that made his siren stare only slightly less intimidating. Yeah, handsome.
He didn’t look away even after he let you take your card back.
“S– sorry. You look like–”
“It’s okay. Thanks again.” You hurried away as fast as you could. He couldn’t have known who you were, right? Not a chance, you have never shown your face. You were wearing too many clothes for any particular body part to be recognizable. It’s just a coincidence.
Either way, the minor interaction with the barista scared you into hiding again, forgetting going out for anything else you had planned and deciding to hole away at home.
You had a livestream to do later anyways, focus on that. There were a few hours left for you to kill before turning on the camera, now would be as good a time as any to set up.
It wasn’t much that you did, mostly just thinking of what it was you thought viewers would like to see for the day. An hour before the scheduled stream, you set up a waiting room on the website that hinted at what the day’s theme would be. Today you thought you’d go a little easy on the eyes; “live soon, hardcandysweetheart: play time! <3”
A typical stream would start off soft, greeting viewers like any other meeting. You’d ask how their day was, if there was anything in particular they wanted to do or talk about, some answered genuinely while others urged you to strip. You liked the ones that asked you how your day was, too, and enjoyed sharing your thoughts with them. Though, it was no secret what everyone was here for, even if sometimes– just sometimes, you liked what came before taking off your clothes more than anything.
“I have a few things in mind for play time today, I’d like to hear what you guys think. Would you prefer this,” in your hand, you held up your favorite vibrator, big and baby pink. “Or this?” in the other, a new grinder that resembled the shape of a tentacle with the sucker-side up.
Comment section didn’t slow down as soon as you showed the second toy. “I thought you might like this one. I got it just for you! I’m excited to try it out with you.”
– im so fucking hard
– i wanna see ur pussy
– thats so nice, ur sweet
“Slow down! Haha, we’re gonna take our time,” you laughed away the weird feeling in your chest as you read the fleeing comments. “You’re so impatient today, lovely. Did you have a hard day? I know I did,” you slowly peeled down the blouse you wore, letting it hang off your shoulders to expose your bare shoulders. It seemed redundant to wear a bra, but you kept the shirt covering your breasts for dramatic effect, hard nipples peaking through.
“I just wanna take it a little more… gentler, if that’s alright.” The camera was angled to cut off at your neck to avoid showing your face, but you bit your lip anyways as you held up the grinder. “It’s a little out of my comfort zone, honestly. I’ve never told you about this fantasy before.” You ran your finger down the rubber center, feeling the many little suction cups bend.
You giggled as you came to the swirled tip of the tentacle, playing with the way it curled and how pliable it was. “When I ordered this, they let me choose the color. I think pink suits me, don’t you? But I also thought, maybe blue? Or black… but then it would be too hard for you to see, right?”
As you spoke, you laid the grinder between your legs but not quite touching it. With two fingers, you stroked it the same way you would your own pussy. Your other free hand was doing just that right behind the toy and beneath the length of your shirt, feeling your wetness building up with your hand down your panties. “Oh my, just talking to you– my underwear is soaked!” The giggle that left your lips was genuine, you didn’t expect to work yourself up so quickly.
You stole your fingers from your cunt and showed it to the camera, spreading them to let your viewers see the slick coating shine in the soft lighting. “Heh, told ya I was excited. You make me like this.”
When you started to really get going it was hard to pay attention to the comments, you tended to get a little lost until you finally came. Like now, you brought the toy closer to your core, lightly lifting yourself to sit on it. As soon as you did, you let out a whimper.
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Hyunjin had never felt so embarrassed in his life. He doesn’t even know why, he couldn’t have been sure of anything.
Except he was. He was 100% sure, plus another 10% for good measure. He hadn’t even known about the site for long, you were just his favorite. He’d found hardcandysweetheart and never bothered to look anywhere else.
You were just another customer at first, a pretty one that caught his attention. He noticed you in line and had every intention of flirting and possibly asking for you to sign up for the rewards program with them just so he could use that as an excuse to get your number. Then you spoke.
All you fucking did was speak. “Please,” and “thank you,” and Hyunjin fucking crumbled.
Jesus, he must have looked like an idiot. He knows he did, but he was star struck. Fanboying, red in the face with embarrassment, about to fold at the knees, and hard as a fucking rock all at the same time. He had to excuse himself to the restroom as soon as you left just to get his boner to go away.
If it really was you– and he hoped to god it wasn’t– he’ll never forget such a pretty face.
Which is why he turned on notifications for your stream. He knew your schedule by heart but he needed to be sure that it was your voice he heard. As soon as he got home from his shift, clothes came off and he was sat in bed with his laptop nearby, just waiting for the ping notification from you.
God, it was you. As soon as he heard you through his headphones, it confirmed what he already knew.
What a kind voice, supple, soft, he could listen to you for hours– he has listened to you for hours. Sometimes he wished you could do live streams of just you talking, you never even had to take your clothes off. Now that he knew what you looked like, Hyunjin’s heartbeat faster than it ever did when you made conversation.
It was the way you did, as though you were speaking to him and only him. The image he created of you in his head looked like it was thought up by a child in comparison to seeing you in real life. He could put a face to the voice now, he wasn’t even thinking about your body. Just your voice.
“You make me like this,” you said in almost a whisper, tone cracking just a little the more you sat on the toy.
Hyunjin couldn’t help but palm at himself, not entirely stroking but moving at the same pace. This was a team effort, in his mind. You made him crazy, as he did to you. That was his fantasy. You always spoke with so much love in your voice, as though you truly cared for him and it got him harder than any other kind of porn ever could.
Was that really all it took? Was he that pathetic? Someone who didn’t even know who he was, talking to an ocean of people that all saw the same thing he did, and suddenly it’s the only thing that can make him cum.
He can’t even complain now, he’s seen you. That’s enough spank bank to last him a lifetime if you ever suddenly decided to stop camming. Shit– he hopes he didn’t just manifest that into existence.
The white button up top draped in front of your cunt to hide away from view. That’s alright, you said you were taking it slow today. Your hips slowly pushed forward and back, hands gripping tightly at the armrests of your uncomfortable looking desk chair. Hyunjin thought it was kind of cute how you would still cam in the same seat as you did when he found your first video. 
His laptop on his abdomen concealed the view of his cock leaking, but the way you were sat on screen, he could envision it was him you were sitting on instead. That’s exactly what he imagined as you rocked faster into the toy, lifting your shirt and balling it in your fist to show that your wetness had spread to the front of your panties. Hyunjin didn’t even mind that the bold pink tentacle blocking a bit of the view, you were getting so into it that he hardly noticed anymore.
Hyunjin fumbled to find his dick, slowly beginning to squeeze the head as you turned to shorter and quicker ruts towards the front of the toy where the tentacle curled up. You moaned loudly, making him do so as well in return. “Fuck, I ruined this pair, didn’t I?”
Your cute laugh had Hyunjin breaking out into a smirk, “that’s okay,” he whispered to no one but himself.
“I should take it off but,” you rolled your hips again with a whine, “I kinda want you to work for it.”
The tips in the corner of the page were pinging like crazy as soon as you said that. He himself tapped the button rapidly and paid no mind to how his account balance shot down.
“C’mon now, don’t be shy. It’s just one little word that I wanna hear. I’ll say it first, if that makes you feel better.” The speed of your hips picked up a little, in turn Hyunjin let his fist slowly work up and down, no faster than you, of course.
“Please. Please, is the word I’m looking for, lovely. Say it, just once.”
Fuck, he couldn’t help speeding up just a little. He loved the way you said it, even more the way you commanded him to say it as well. “Please,” the whimper came out breathy and uneven as the precum lubricated his cock more.
“That wasn’t so hard, was it?” Hyunjin shook his head, no. 
“No, it wasn’t. Look what happens when you ask nicely,” you stood from your seat just to pull off the flimsy fabric, sitting fully back down on the toy and holding up the soaked pair with another chuckle. “You get nice things.”
Hyunjin could hear how wet you really were now, every lewd sound that came from you rubbing yourself back and forth on the grinder. You still didn’t let him– them– see you fully. He wasn’t even sure if you’d expose yourself at all this stream. Still, his fist picked up speed as you did, taking in every grunt you let out when you’d hit a particularly good spot. Hyunjin kept his eyes on you the whole time, memorizing the way you moved, what angle made you tick.
“C’mon lovely, I know you can do better than that.”
You were referring to the tip counter, but Hyunjin took it as he can do better than that. His other hand reached around the laptop, down to cup his balls as he worked his cock faster, occasionally running his fingers over the head for a break in stimulation. Somehow he managed to stop touching himself for a split second to rapid fire extra tips when they slowed down.
“Oh, someone wants a little extra attention today. What do I call you, lovely?” Hyunjin wasn’t sure if you were speaking to him, though he hoped and typed a nickname anyways. “Baby? That’s cute. Thank you, baby, you’re so sweet.”
His hand instantly returned to his dick, not caring about the speed anymore, instead wanting to cum to the sound of your voice. He quickly tapped the tip button a few more times and you giggled, “baby, you’re spoiling me. Here, since you’re being so nice,” you lifted the hem of your shirt to put your bare cunt on display, seemingly tucking the end of it into your mouth.
Hyunjin could see it so clearly, your pretty lips drooling onto the fabric, biting it to contain the moans that wanted to slip past. Fuck, he was going insane, wet, slick noises from his animalistic fisting on his cock almost surpassing the volume of your voice in his headphones. 
He just watched now, listened intently to how good you were making yourself feel and it made his body light a fire. You were clearly getting closer as well, forgetting the dirty talk and humping away at the toy with little to no regard for who was watching. Hyunjin loved this side of you the most, when you couldn’t think of anything other than the impending pleasure. He could imagine your eyes rolling back, the furrow in your brow and beads of sweat dripping down your temples as you came nearer to falling over the edge. Your hands moved to grip the edge of the seat, aiding in pushing your body forward and back harder against the grinder and Hyunjin was jerking himself with a hotter fervor. Your muffled cries echoed in his head– he was making you feel like this, he was the one you were using to please yourself, he was the one you thought of as you came all over his cock.
Hyunjin suddenly held his breath and let his release take over his body, squeezing and pumping the tip of his cock as he spurt his seed all over his stomach and back of his computer. By the time he’d come to, opened his eyes, and regained his breath, you were slumped back in your chair and panting heavily. He missed your grand finale, but that was okay with him, you came at the same time. Even in post nut clarity, he wanted to hear your voice. More than that, he wanted to hold you, run his fingers through your hair, kiss you until you were breathless all over again.
Hyunjin’s shaky hand found the tip button again and tapped.
“Thank you, baby.” He smiled.
You groaned and found the strength to steal the toy from your aching cunt, holding it up for the camera to see it glistening with your essence. Laughing, “this was fun, wasn’t it? I enjoyed myself, I might have to buy more of these.” You tossed it onto the desk and suddenly seemed shy, tugging your shirt as far down as you could without exposing more skin. “Until next time, lovely. I’ll miss you.” You waved your dainty fingers at the camera, doing your signature sign off, and the screen went black.
Hyunjin’s head fell back into his pillows, staring at the ceiling trying to understand all the emotions he just rushed through. 
He couldn’t compute them even if he tried. All he knew was that he was excited to go to work tomorrow morning, hoping that whatever god heard his plea, begging that you’ll come in.
When he went to shut his laptop, his fingers smeared the warm mess that was slowly dripping. “Fuck— ew,” and he hurried to clean up, alone once again.
☆゚
tags: @sensitiveandhungry @babebatter @changbinluvr @epiphanynaffit @fawnpeaks @linovely @dumplinbokkieracha @finnydraws @naturules @djeniryuu @hamburgers101 @skzhomiehopper @yesv01 @hyunjinsamdl @dazzlingligth @alexis-reads-fics @linaliskz @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
2K notes · View notes
atlabeth · 2 months
Note
Girl for one get that glass of water! andddd this is a loose request but I LOVE knight Luke and we just gotta see them have that cinderella live action ball scene like romantic dancing maybe the secret garden as well but either way we gotta see these gals at a ball! Have a great day you're an amazing writer!
under the moonlight
fic about the ball
pairing: knight!luke castellan x princess!reader
a/n: thank you so much for this request it is so fucking cute lmao. i changed it a bit to make it work with my vision (bc they wouldn’t really be able to dance at a ball) but the core is that they're dancing together!!! and it is much more intimate and personal lol. here is the cinderella scene that the ask mentioned (and that i took inspo from because it's a beautiful scene lol)
wc: 2.5k
warning(s): basically all fluff
as usual, a mix of hcs and traditional fic!
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ALRIGHT LAST TIME WE LEFT OFF princess was dancing with princes during the ball and luke was sulking at his first ever ball accompanying you as a knight 
and thankfully, that all goes okay. 
You don’t get murdered, Luke only goes slightly insane, and you don’t fall head over heels for any royals. 
All in all, a pretty alright night in retrospect. 
But post-ball is rough on both of you. 
You complain about how much your feet hurt from your heels and how uncomfortable your dress is and how your cheeks ache from smiling so much. 
To your surprise, as Luke follows you down the halls, he laughs. 
You stop in your tracks as you whirl around. “And what do you find so funny?”
“Nothing,” he says with a slight smile, almost private. “Just… good to be back with you, princess.”
A small smile of your own starts to creep on your lips. “It was only half the night, Luke.”
“And you have no idea how much I missed you,” he muses. 
You just shake your head and continue walking. “You’re funny.”
(he’s not joking. he’s just going through it now that he’s not training 24/7 and actually has time to feel emotions again) 
You finally get back to your room—thankfully, you got out of any post-ball events with any princes by citing exhaustion, and it’s very rude to demand more of an exhausted lady—and Luke shuts the door behind you as you sink into the edge of your bed. 
“God,” you groan as you immediately peel your heels off, letting out a sigh of relief. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to those.”
“If it’s any help, you looked very regal out there,” Luke says.
“It is my duty,” you say as you smile inwardly. “You looked very knightly out there.”
“And that’s my duty,” he says in kind. He gets a chuckle out of you. 
You begin to take everything off—you undo your hair from whatever elaborate style it was in, you strip your wrists and fingers bare of bracelets, bangles, and rings (though you leave a certain necklace on), you undo parts of your dress. When you take your nightgown from your chest and go behind your folding screen, Luke clears his throat. 
“Princess,” Luke says, “do you want me to—?”
“You can stay,” you say. “I don’t mind.”
And Luke, idiot that he is, gets all in his head. 
(Does she not want me to leave because she doesn’t even see me as someone who could like her like that???) (We’ve been friends for so long, does she just see me as an older brother???) (Does this mean she trusts me or sees me as like. a painting on the wall.) (what the fuck) 
It’s not any of those, poor boy. it’s just that you feel more comfortable around him than anyone because you’ve been around each other for your entire life—he knows you better than anyone. What’s the harm in him being in the room when you’re separated by a folding screen anyway?
but Luke is dramatic and also so fucking insecure when it comes to your feelings for him lmao 
and he has a reason to be i guess?? because at this point while he knows that he has feelings for you (hasn’t fully realized he’s in love) you haven’t realized your own. you just think you have a lingering childhood crush on Luke and it’ll go away as you get older and start being courted 
(spoiler alert: it will not go away.) 
so he gets all weird and silent, giving one word responses as you talk with him, and when you come out in your nightgown you immediately stare him down. 
“Luke,” you said, “what’s wrong?” 
He blinked, as if he wasn’t expecting you to say anything. “Nothing.” 
“Luke,” you repeated. “Come on.” 
“Nothing’s wrong,” he repeated as well. 
You crossed your arms. “Don’t act like I don’t know every single thing about you.” 
“If you do, then you should know that nothing is wrong,” he countered. 
You stared at him for a moment more, then you held out your hand. “Dance with me, then.” 
That actually seemed to throw him off guard as he frowned. “What?” 
“Did you go deaf back there?” you joked. “I want you to dance with me.” 
He managed a smile, though it was slightly awkward. It only made your smile grow. “I don’t dance, princess.” 
“Which is why I’ll teach you,” you said with a nod. “I’ve had plenty of practice.” 
“And I have none.” Luke gestured at his armor. “I’m not exactly suited for it, either.” 
“You can take off your armor,” you said. “It’ll make it all much easier. And a lot quieter.” 
“My job is to protect you, princess.” Luke laid his hand on the hilt of his sword. “I can’t exactly defend you if all the armor’s gone.” 
You rolled your eyes good-naturedly. He really did worry too much. “Nothing’s going to happen here, Luke—not now. I’ll even let you keep your sword with you if it matters that much.” 
He still didn’t seem sure. You inclined your head and took another step forward, still holding out your hand. 
“I’ll count you through it all,” you promised. “And if you like, I can hum one of those orchestra tunes they played earlier tonight. And I promise it’ll make you feel better.”
“...Fine,” Luke relented, and he started undoing his armor. “But you don’t tell anyone about this.” 
“Your secret is safe with me,” you remarked. 
It took a fair amount of time for Luke to get his armor off, but it took just as long for you to get every layer of your ball gown off earlier—and besides, you had endless patience reserved especially for him. The toned forearms revealed as he rolled his sleeves up certainly helped. 
“Are you ready?” you asked as you held out your hand again. 
Luke took it uncertainly. “I feel as if I’m the one meant to be asking you that.” 
“You can lead next time we train together,” you said with a smile. “For now, you’re in my domain.” 
You put Luke’s hand on your waist and reached for his other one, adjusting until it was right, then you looked up at him. “Does that feel alright?” 
His eyes were startlingly dark this close, surprisingly intense. He nodded. 
“Good. I’m going to teach you a few basic steps so you can get used to it.” 
Luke nodded again. You wondered why words seemed behind his grasp. 
yeah girlie I wonder why 
Luke is. not a great dancer 
You’re not surprised, and you don’t say a single word about it as you teach him the basics. he spent his childhood swinging a sword around, and you spent yours learning etiquette and ballroom dances lol 
He steps on your foot about ten times and apologizes like a freak every time, you just laugh and smile and tell him you’re fine. Sure, your slippers don’t provide much protection and Luke’s boots aren’t great against them but you honestly don’t even feel it. you’re too busy getting lost in his eyes lol 
And for someone who spent two years training like an insane person, he gets frustrated very easily when things don’t go his way. 
“How do you do this? It’s impossible.” 
“I learned this dance when I was twelve, Luke.” 
as much as you jest while you’re teaching him the basics you’re encouraging him the entire time because he’s your best friend above all else!!! and you honestly believe he can do anything lmao 
And he’s a quick learner! He didn’t become the youngest kingsguard in history by learning slowly. So soon enough, you’re actually dancing together. 
Luke’s hand on your back feels like the most natural thing in the world, and you can tell he’s actually starting to get a little into it. 
You didn’t have to count your steps off anymore, so you’d switched to humming one of your favorite symphonies from the musicians back in Aurelda. 
Luke is still focused on landing every move, but your lead and the music gives him confidence in this that he didn’t really know he had. He spins you, and you get an idea as you twirl your way to the balcony door. You open it and look back at him. 
“Princess—” Luke starts as he takes a few steps towards you, but you just shake your head with a grin and hold out your hand. 
“Trust me.” 
And he does, somehow. 
You didn’t know what part of himself Luke had to get to in order to actually go along with this, but he allowed you to fully take the lead. His eyes never left yours as you guided him through one of your favorite dances—sometimes you called out whatever move that was coming next, and he would do it perfectly. His instincts and reaction time, sharply honed by his training, actually came in handy. 
“And lift!” 
Luke braced his hands on your waist as he raised you into the air without missing a beat, and you found yourself actually laughing with pure glee as you landed. You grinned at Luke who had a smile smaller than yours, but that you knew meant the same. He glowed with exertion and the light of the full moon shone down on him. 
Angelic was the only word you could think of to describe him. 
“Princess,” he said, bringing you back to the real world, “are we done?” 
“I see no reason not to end while we’re ahead,” you said, slightly out of breath from his lift. “You’re a natural. Are you sure you’re not a prince?” 
Luke’s smile didn’t fully reach his eyes for the slightest moment—he covered it up before you could fully analyze it. “Thankfully, I’m not. Otherwise I would have had to do that all my life like you.” 
“Oh, it’s not that bad,” you said offhandedly. “Especially when you’ve got such a great partner.” 
Luke suddenly lowered himself into a bow, his arm held in front of his chest as he bent over. You couldn’t stifle your laugh in time, but he was smiling when he rose. 
“The only proper way to truly end a dance, so I’ve seen,” he said. “I wouldn’t be such a great partner if I forgot that.” 
You grinned as you took the skirt of your nightgown in your hands and bobbed into a curtsy. “Thank you for the reminder, my lord.” 
A shiver ran through you and Luke’s eyebrows creased. “You should get back inside. You’re not dressed at all for this weather.” 
“It’s simply a night chill,” you said, and you walked over to the railing and rested your forearms on it. “And it’s too beautiful a night to ignore.” 
“It truly is.” 
You heard Luke walk up next to you, so you glanced over. His gaze was only set on you. 
You felt your cheeks flush and you bit back your smile as you stared back up at the stars. For a moment, you stood together in comfortable silence. 
“Thank you for tonight,” you finally said. 
You could hear his frown in his words. “What do you mean?” 
“Exactly what I said.” You leaned a bit closer to the railing, shifting your balance. “Your presence always… calms me. And I was a bit nervous for tonight.” 
When Luke finally responded, it was more restrained than usual. “Why?” 
“Well, I was nervous tonight because you put the idea in my head that I was going to get murdered,” you said wryly. “And your presence calms me because it always has.” 
“So… I made you nervous and calmed you down for what I made you nervous about?” Luke shook his head. “I’m sorry, princess.” 
“Why are you apologizing?” You finally turned to look at him, the smallest smile on your lips. “Anytime I got overwhelmed on the floor, or felt as if I was going to keel over from boredom, I just searched around until I found you.” You shrugged. “The sight of you alone was enough to get me through the rest of it.” 
“And of course,” you tipped a shoulder as your gaze drifted back to the stars, “you danced with me for no reason. That gives you all the good will you need from me.” 
“It wasn’t for no reason,” he said. “It made you happy. That’s reason enough for me.” 
The chill in the air was a blessing as you felt heat rise in your cheeks, and your smile grew just so. 
“Besides.” You could feel his eyes on you as he continued. “This was my first ball. Anytime I got overwhelmed, I would find you in the crowd, and your confidence got me through it.” 
You chuckled as your gaze fell to the marble railing. You didn’t know if you’ve ever felt less confident at a ball—but knowing that Luke was looking for you the same way you did him made butterflies arise in your stomach. 
Warmth spurned all through you, and the fingers on your forearms felt bumps rise on your skin. You didn’t exactly know what possessed you as you cleared your throat and started back towards your room. 
“It’s late,” you said, perhaps a bit too hasty. “We— we should turn in. It’s going to be a long ride back to Aurelda.” 
You paused at the door, waiting to hear Luke’s footsteps or his voice, and it took a few seconds for him to do anything. 
“...Yes,” he eventually said. “I apologize for keeping you so long.” 
You couldn’t help but laugh to yourself as you opened the door and walked back in. Always so noble—it was no question he had knight’s blood in his veins. 
“It’s not your fault, Luke,” you said. “You were just meant to drop me off—I got you to stay.” 
You sat on the side of your bed as Luke put his armor back on. There was no point in it, but he refused to let the implications of him leaving your room at this hour in his underclothes fester. 
“I chose to stay,” he said. “I know better.” 
“You can give it a rest for a night, Luke,” you said with a slight laugh. “I’m your princess, aren’t I?” 
“Certainly.” 
“And you are my knight.” 
“Yes.” 
“Then I don’t see how anyone could have a problem with my knight spending time with me.” You smiled as you leaned forward, meeting his eyes. A smile twitched on his lips for just a moment before he continued to get dressed. 
Soon enough, he was ready to go. Luke paused at the door, fingers on the handle, and met your eyes. 
“Thank you again for tonight, princess,” he said. “I…” 
His breath caught for a moment. His eyes flickered down to your neck. A millisecond later, they were back at eye level, and you allowed a knowing smile. 
“I enjoyed it,” he murmured. “Goodnight, princess.” 
“Goodnight, Luke,” you said softly. 
And you got one more smile out of him before he closed the door behind him. 
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moominsuki · 9 months
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bakugou is definitely someone who can’t love or be truly intimate someone until he’s known them for an uncomfortable amount of time. that’s why he’s the perfect candidate for falling in love with a childhood friend or a longtime colleague.
don’t get it twisted - he has probably been with a few women here and there (flings and such) but it’s not even in his character to sleep with women a.k.a the pump and dump. he thinks it’s degrading and he doesn’t particularly enjoy being with women he doesn’t have a strong connection to. the man just has urges.
he falls in love so randomly too - if it’s a childhood friend, it’s someone he always wanted/liked to a certain degree, he was just too pussy to say anything and life happens and they finally get to reignite that spark like nothing happened and this one is an adorable one because you’ve both known each other for a while and you’ve seen him through his awkward, angsty 5’7 bakugou stage and you adored him just as much as you did then and now - it helps he’s gorgeous and also a sweetie pie.
if it’s a colleague/coworker, then it happens when he’s slightly older and it’s someone who he’s had a thing for but, like aforementioned, bakugou hates to ruin a good thing and has a huge fear of rejection - even though you always fill up the coffee in the break room how he likes it, even though you let him pick you up to and from work, even though you literally kissed his cheek at a party. he chalks it up to you being tipsy and you eventually have to grab his face and just kiss him and it goes from there.
either way, bakugou actually takes his time with you - the road to intimacy is a bit slower because of how much he really likes you but you do end up doing the do (yay) and bakugou actually gets super overwhelmed during intimate sex with someone he really wants. it’s a very carnal desire that burns in him and it swallows him up whole.
it’s been a heavy day at work - bakugou feels a bit shitty and you offer a nice bath to loosen you both up. he obliges even though he doesn’t normally do baths because it’s you, duh.
you get in and so does he and it’s quiet - a few words of “you good, baby?” and “lemme wash your hair,” here and there. you’re not doing anything particularly profound but like aforementioned, intimacy makes bakugou’s dick chub up like crazy. you can feel it pressing into your butt and it’s endgame.
he takes you in missionary in his bed and you’re looking up at him, all wide eyed and glassy and a little drunk on him. bakugou prides himself in being an attentive and long lasting lover but when you wrap your legs around his lower back, your hands press into his shoulders and a few unshed tears in your eyes and pull his face down to kiss you with a ghost “i love you so much” resting on your lips does bakugou practically reel into you: red face in your neck and a guttural moan of your name and profanities slurred into one new word.
bakugou knows he’s entirely whipped: he can’t believe he’s ever slept with women casually when being intimate could feel like this, like a piece of your soul being pulled out by a succubus. only this succubus loves him and laughs at his jokes and cleans at his wounds and when she laughs, he feels like the world is a good place again.
when he reluctantly pulls back to see your face, he’s met with a smile that reaches your eyes and he falls in love with you all over again.
not before folding you in half to apologise for the early arrival.
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inkdrinkerworld · 3 months
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sensitive!reader who's used to being talked over in conversations, and finally doesn't feel like that with remus? but one day they're all out with their friends and she just feels ignored :( like they aren't doing it on purpose of course, they just all haven't seen each other for a while? and then she's all quiet on the ride home and remus is just trying to coax it out of her :(
The amount of you at the table after four months of not seeing each other makes it hard to even get a word in edgewise.
“Yeah and then I got those new-“
You’re talked over and after months and months of Remus not doing it to you, it’s strange.
He notices though, because of course he notices everything you do, the way you slump and lean your head on his shoulder- not offering much in the way of conversation besides shrugs and hums.
“Baby,” he coos as your friends begin to get ready to leave, Remus’ hand massaging the small of your back. “Ready to go?”
You sigh, “Yeah,” Remus doesn’t like the tone of your words and even when he’s pulling out of the parking lot you’re silent and sulking.
“Dove?” He says, stealing a glance at you when he can, finding you just staring off into space. “What were you saying about the new stuff you got?”
You don’t even perk up like you usually would. Instead you just wave your hand, “Doesn’t matter Rem.”
Remus drops it for a couple minutes and you don’t even notice that he’s pulled over till he’s pulling up the handbrakes.
“Dove,” he’s got at sweet talking, always has been so he knows exactly what to say and do to get you melting like putty.
Remus’ thumb strokes your cheek and then your chin, turning your face towards him. “Talk to me, sweetheart. What were you saying about your new stuff?”
He gives you a soft smile when you nibble on your lip. “C’mon pretty girl, y’know they just get excited. Talk to me though, yeah?”
His thumb strokes down the column of your neck and then back up to your cheek. A motion that feels way more intimate than just a tender touch.
That and the earnestness in his voice has you blowing out a big breath, “I got new yarn to start a blanket for when I’m reading. It’s really soft and super colourful and if it turns out well, I wanted to know if Lily wanted one.”
Remus kisses your forehead, “You’re so thoughtful baby, I’m sure she’d love one.” He puts the car back in drive and merges back onto the road. “Thank you for telling me, sweet girl. Don’t like it when you get quiet like that.”
“Doesn’t feel good to be talked over like that; even if it isn’t purposeful.”
Remus nods, a hand reaching over to your thigh as he cruises the road. “You know I hang on to your every word, baby. You can talk to me till you run out of words, I’ll listen to every fucking one of them.”
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myfictionaldreams · 1 year
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Day 31: Voyeurism/Exhibition - Remus + James/Sirius
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Kinktober Day 31: Voyeurism/Exhibition - Remus xf!reader + James/Sirius 
Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, dom/sub, dubious content, making out, james/sirius being meanies, flirting, anxiety, teasing, voyeurism, exhibition, masturbation (male), listening to sex, thigh riding, oral (f receiving), praise kink, intense orgasm, multiple orgasms, spooning sex, sucking fingers, size kink, squirting, cockwarming, nicknames, no use of y/n
A/N: Here it is, the final kinktober day!  Thank you to everyone who has read, left a comment or liked any of the chapters, I really appreciate every single one of you. Bring on next year!
my main masterlist 📚 // kinktober masterlist😈 // AO3 Link 
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It was late in the evening, almost everyone had already retired to bed but not the four of you. James and Sirius were positioned on the sofa, discussing the latest game of quidditch that they’d played against Hufflepuff, not that you were listening.
No, you were more invested in the soft lips that were steadily moving against yours, the faint rough feeling of stubble brushing against your cheeks and the overwhelming smell of Remus’ cologne turning you into a puddle in his lap. His tongue began to gently move against yours, head tilting to move deeper, your fingers gripping his collar as if your life depended on it as he was leaving soft strokes against your skin.
It was only as pure silence surrounded you, making you keenly aware that James and Sirius had stopped talking did you stop. Pulling away from the kiss abruptly, you glanced over to see them both watching you intently, sly smirks on both of their faces.
“Don’t stop on our account darling”, Sirius remarked, eyes almost black as they trailed up your body. Heat enveloped every inch of skin as you quickly hid your face in Remus’ neck, pure embarrassment pulsing through you.
“Aww don’t be shy” Remus coos at you, attempting to pull your head back so you were forced to look up at him. “You can’t be embarrassed by a little bit of kissing when they hear us most nights”.
Even more heat radiated from your body as your heart began to pound in your chest. “I thought you put a silencing spell around the bed?” you asked, begging in your mind for him to be lying.
“I do… some of the time”, your eyes drop, hands falling into your lap.
“Oh, Remus you feel so good! ah, Remus just like that! Please Remmie don’t stop!” Sirius teased in a high-pitched voice, James laughing along with him. Your thoughts were on overdrive, thinking about the hours and hours you’d had sex with Remus and they’d actually heard some of it, heard your most vulnerable and intimate of moments.
“Alright, boys that’s enough” Remus chastises them whilst laughing at your expression, pulling you closer to his body. “Let’s go to bed baby, get away from these meanies”.
Remus helps you up and you could hardly look him in the eyes let alone his friends as you rushed up to the dormitory. Heart still pounding as you removed your trousers, and shirt and slid into bed before your boyfriend had even made it into the room. He too removes his clothes before climbing into bed, lying in the centre and holding you on his chest just as James and Sirius entered the room.
With a flick of his wand, the curtain around Remus’ bed began to close but not before James muttered, “goodnight sweetheart, don’t keep the noise down tonight”.
You tried to ignore him and cuddled in close to Remus, closing your eyes but you couldn’t stop thinking about it, even as your boyfriend's body heat warmed your body, lips kissing your hairline softly and hands gently massaging your spine to help relax you. It didn’t work, however. Had they actually heard you? Been listening to the numerous times that the two of you had had sex? But also, why were you becoming slick between your legs at the thought of the two of them in their beds getting turned on by just you having sex?
“Remmie” you whispered, knowing sleep wasn't going to be coming to you anytime soon.
“Mmm,” he responded, opening his eyes to look down at you, his large hand settling on your head, massaging it just the way you liked it.
“Do you actually let them listen to us?” you kept your voice quiet so the others couldn’t hear you.
Remus smirked in the darkness, then began shifting in the bed so that he moved down, turning on his side so the two of you were face to face, his warm breath caressing against your cheeks. His large fingers cradled your cheek, thumb stroking against your cheekbone in a positive distraction as you were quick to nuzzle into the soft touches.
As he answered, he slide his thigh between your legs, letting it rest against your pantie-covered centre, “would you be angry if I did?”
“But why-why would you do that? It’s so embarrassing Remus” you muttered with anxiety dripping in your tone.
“Shhh sweet girl, it’s not embarrassing, it’s liberating” as he spoke, your boyfriend shifted closer, kissing your cheek where his hand had been caressing, once again trying to distract you. “Do you know how fucking hot it is knowing that just your sweet moans are making other guys touch themselves, wishing that they were me? I couldn’t be greedy and keep those beautiful sounds of you cuming to myself now could I?”
You attempted to respond but found yourself stuttering over your words, not sure what to say, instead of being embarrassed, you were being turned on by his confidence-boosting revelations. “But-but that-”
Remus’ lips are on yours, cutting off your unknown sentence, shutting you up effectively.
“Want to know something? Whilst you’re making these soft little moans that I love so much”, Remus moves his thigh higher, rubbing against your cunt. “I get you all to myself whilst they’re only left with their hands, therefore, I. Win.”
Your skin felt like it was burning, hands delicately trembling on his shoulders as his sinful mouth trailed open-mouthed kisses down your chin and jaw.
“Remmie” your head tilted back as you moaned his name, still trying to remain quiet. Remus continued to hover over your body, hands gripping onto your waist, his thigh still rubbing against your cunt, leaving you wanting more, a good distraction.
“What do you want? Do you want me to stop?” he asked in a teasing manner, not giving time to answer before his head was moving south and his full lips were sealing around your peaked nipple, sucking it into his mouth. Your back arched, trying to move closer, hands gripping painfully into his hair, holding him to you. Releasing your nipple with an audible ‘pop’, he looked at you in the darkness, “or do you want me to keep going?”
You were so lost in his touch, you weren’t even sure you could respond. It was like there was an angel and a demon on either shoulder, one begging you to continue, needing him to touch you more but the other bellowing to stop, knowing James and Sirius were likely listening to the encounter, feeling embarrassed.
Remus felt the tension and rested his weight on his arms on either side of your head, “I won’t continue unless you talk to me, I want to hear that pretty voice of yours”.
As he spoke, his thigh moved rougher against your soaked pussy only causing you to moan rather than talk, eyebrows knitting together as your fingers moved from his shoulders to his defined chest, you knew what you wanted.
“I want you Remmie, please don’t stop” you finally coherently spoke, eyes closing as you zoned into the pleasure that was shooting between your legs. Your boyfriend didn’t respond with words, instead, his lips were instantly on yours, feverishly kissing, nipping your bottom lip until it snapped back, tongue dancing with yours until both of your lungs were aching from lack of oxygen.
With less than an inch between your faces, he whispered into the darkness, low enough that the other boys didn’t hear, wanting the reward for you and only you. “Good girl, my good girl”.
You groaned at the praise, feeling confident once more as he shifted down the bed, easing your panties down with him before his hands eagerly gripping onto your thighs, pushing them back until your knees were almost either side of your head, completely exposing your dripping cunt to him, he could see the wetness even in the dark.
All you were able to do was grip his hands on your thighs before his tongue was pushing between your folds, lapping up every drop like a starved man. The thick muscle delved into your quivering hole, stretching it slightly before sucking your throbbing clit into his mouth.
He watched over your mound, eyes watching your every movement. Seeing the way you were so intensely being pleasured, his mouth touching every part of your pussy with skilful licks.
Turning your head to the side, you were conscious to muffle your moans, hiding your face into the pillow. “Let me hear you, it’s ok baby, you’re safe with me, let me hear you”.
The kindness in his voice had you melting on the spot, especially as he released one of your thighs to inch two fingers into your cunt whilst simultaneously sucking on your clit. You didn’t need to be told twice as you released an almighty, throaty moan that caused Remus to smile against your bundle of nerves.
This was when you heard another distinctive voice in the room, muffled and quiet like they’d been trying to hold it in, but another male definitely grunted “fuck” from one of the other beds. However you truly didn’t care, the thought of Sirius and James in their beds, hands wrapped around their cocks as they listened to you being pleasured by your boyfriend had your centre burning and clenching hard around his fingers.
Remus chuckled as he felt your arousal heighten, “knew you’d like it, baby”. With each passing second, he increased the speed of his fingers, curing them deliciously against that beautiful spot that had you nearly seeing stars, thighs trembling as that tightening coil appeared in your abdomen.
“P-please” you begged, not needing to ask for what, Remus knew exactly what as he pumped his fingers harder, licking back and forth against your clit, still watching your every movement from between your legs. Pure, shocking pleasure erupted through your body, clenching and shivering as you screamed out, twisting away on instinct as his touch became too much.
Remus’ hands massaged up and down your spine, soothing you through the intense orgasm, his cock painfully hard from seeing you mewl and twitch on your side. “You did so well baby, good girl, that’s it, take a deep breath”.
Hazily, you followed his instructions, taking a deep breath, hips still bucking as the pleasure soothed down until a light hum settled over your body leaving you blissfully satisfied and shyly grinning up at him in the dark.
Remus smiled back, kissing your bare shoulder as he spooned behind you, his clothes having now disappeared at some point as his warm skin met your back. One of his arms settled beneath your head as you nuzzled into it, smiling as his cock brushed your slightly overstimulated centre. His tip was soon pushing in, your warm wetness spasming around his veiny length, loving the pain and pleasure that came from his thicker size.
“Fuck,  you’re so tight”, Remus grunted, lips kissing lazily against your neck as his other hand moved your leg over his, giving him better access. Another male moan could be heard from the other side of the room, and the faint sound of slapping from a fist up and down a cock.
“Ah you’re so big!” you moaned, feeling absolutely full of his cock. Remus hummed, gently biting your shoulder as his fingers trailed over your peaked breasts, tweaking the nipples that only caused your cunt to clench.
Remus knew he needed to go slower in this position, not wanting to hurt you as he began pulling out. You were openly moaning, not caring who heard as your walls were caressed by his member, in and out he slowly moved, making sure to push all the way in until your cervix was bumped before withdrawing.
Your hands were trying to grip onto the back of his head but kept slipping and ended up falling into his hand that was until your head, his large hand easily being able to hold both of your hands so you were at his mercy.
The spiral of moans that were leaving your lips was only echoed by the two men that were listening, both of their eyes closed in concentration and only adding to the smirk across Remus as he had you all to himself.
Feeling your muscles relax slightly, Remus increased his speed, the bed shifting with his thrusts, thighs slapping together as you repeatedly shouted his name like a song. He was just so big for you, almost sure that if you glanced down you could see the bulge of his cock appear and disappear with his movements.
This also meant that you were already close to cumming again, wanting to feel that tightness building, needing it to take over your body. Remus did too as he once again increased his pace, furiously fucking you from where he lay on his side behind you, hand moving between your legs to rub on your clit, swiping back and forth.
“You hear them baby? Hear how you’re pleasuring three men tonight, not just me, gonna make us all cum just from those pretty little noises”. You almost cried out just by his words, feeling wetness slashing out as you began to squirt as the peak of your orgasm was taking effect. “That's right, squirt over my cock, cum for me baby”.
He hadn’t even finished his sentence as you followed his instruction, cunt pulsing around his member, squeezing him tight as he didn’t stop fucking you, each time he pulled out, more squirt would coat his cock and thighs.
Remus didn’t give you time to recover as he chances his own high, feeling you relax again beneath him in the post-orgasm state, his fingers that had been playing with your bundle of nerves now pushing against your lips. You opened automatically, sucking his fingers, finding comfort in the moment.
“Good girl, suck my fingers, that’s it, taste yourself on me” Remus grunted against the back of your neck. At the same time, a boisterous “fuck yes” was yelled followed by a string of heavy moans as James came into his hand.
In your cock-drunk mind you half processed this fact, still sucking on his fingers as you clenched your cunt, causing Remus to moan desperately, his hips moving hard and fast until, “fuck- yes, ah” he quivered, stilling his hips as his cock throbbing, releasing his cum into your warm centre. Only a second later and Sirius was shouting with his own release, breathing hard, sweat glistening on his brow.
You smiled around Remus’ fingers, feeling him also smiling against your shoulder. He didn’t pull out, he never did in this position, only removing his fingers to touch your cheek, turning your face to the side so he could kiss the corner of your mouth before collapsing onto the bed.
“Good girl, get some sleep” he whispered quietly, again for only you to hear, not for the other two in the room.
Not another word was said as you relaxed into his hold, feeling his cock becoming softer but still wedged into your cunt, his cum ready to spill out and you felt a thrill go through you as it usually did during your sleep, leaving you to wake up in a sticky mess that Remus always felt a possessive obsession with seeing. The scent of sex was thick in the air, hot and humid as everything had changed between the four sleeping in that dormitory, the morning was sure to bring fun activities. 
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ecoterrorist-katara · 2 months
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Why I feel like Ka/taang is one-sided, despite textual evidence 
ATLA does try to convince us that Katara has romantic feelings for Aang. For example: she seems thoughtful when she realizes that Aang is a powerful bender; she’s offended that he didn’t want to kiss her in the Cave of Two Lovers; she gets jealous when Sokka says On Ji and Aang look good together.
So…what’s wrong with anti-Kataangers? Do we just lack media comprehension? 
To be clear, on their own, these gestures can indicate romantic interest. But at the same time, we have stuff like “Aang is a sweet little guy, like Momo.” We have her ambivalent facial expression after he kisses her before the eclipse, and her hedging during Ember Island Players, and her anger when he kisses her anyway. In the context of these conflicting cues, Katara’s possibly romantic reactions can absolutely be interpreted in a different way, because: 
Acknowledging a friend as a potential romantic interest is not the same as actually being romantically interested in them. (Imo this is something young women struggle with, due to a combination of romance-centrism and heteronormativity that make women feel like they should be in romantic relationships, and that boys and girls who share intimate and deep feelings for one another must be romantically into each other) 
Wanting someone to find you desirable is not the same as desiring that person. (Which is something a lot of women, especially young women, struggle with. Remember all the discourse around Cat Person back in 2017?) 
Being jealous when someone flirts with your friend is not the same as wanting to be with your friend. (Especially when you see your friends as family, or if you’re accustomed to a specific type of devotion from that friend. It is jealousy, and it is possessiveness, but it doesn’t always arise from romantic feelings) 
Growing up in a patriarchal society means that your desires are always filtered through what men want from you, sometimes in an abstract male gaze-y way, and sometimes in a very visceral and interpersonal way when a boy wants you specifically. And Katara’s reactions are just that — reactions. Reactions to what other people — including Aunt Wu, Sokka, Aang himself — have insinuated about her and Aang. She’s not really proactive in her interest in Aang: we don’t really see Aang, romantically, from Katara’s POV. Under the framework of “Katara is reacting to a romantic prospect she’s kind of uncertain about,” it is completely plausible — and indeed likely — that she would sometimes act in ways that indicate romantic interest, in addition to moments where she indicates the opposite. 
Ka/taang shippers often bring up other evidence, like Katara’s despair when Azula hits Aang with lightning, or how protective she is of him when Zuko joins the Gaang. The thing is, these pieces of evidence aren’t necessarily indicative of romantic love. The fact that Katara genuinely loves Aang makes the whole thing more complicated, not less, because — especially at that age, especially when Aang is twelve years old and grew up in a sex-segregated society of monks — it is really difficult to tell the difference between platonic love and romantic love. Their mutual devotion is layered and complex yet straightforward in its sincerity. What was not straightforward, until the last five minutes of the show, is whether this devotion on Katara’s end is romantic. The romantic arc for Katara and Aang is not really an arc, as Sneezy discusses in this classic ZK video. Katara actually becomes more conflicted over time and we never see an event that clarifies her feelings. She seems more interested in him in The Headband than on the Day of the Black Sun, and she has never been more hostile to his romantic overtures than in the penultimate episode. 
And in light of this, it’s pretty easy for fans to fill in the blanks with a different interpretation: maybe Katara’s weird expression after their kiss at the invasion means she didn’t enjoy it; maybe the kiss made her realize that she doesn’t actually feel that way about Aang; maybe against her will and her better judgement, she’s developing feelings for another person, a person who hurt her and whom she fervently tried to hate until he pulled off what is in my opinion the greatest grovel of all time in the form of a life-changing field trip. Maybe. Am I saying that Zutara has more romantic interactions than Ka/taang? Of course not. But ironically, the lack of romantic interactions means that it’s not inherently one-sided, the way Ka/taang became in the latter half of season 3.
I’m not arguing that Katara’s unequivocally not into Aang. Obviously the text declares that she is, because they get married and have kids. But I am saying that there’s a very good reason that so many people, especially women, see Katara’s interest in Aang as ambiguous. It’s not because we can’t pick up “subtle” hints of growing affection. It’s because we know not all affection is romantic, and it’s really easy for someone else’s insistent romantic intentions to muddle what you want.
P.S. I first started thinking about these topics (platonic vs romantic love, desiring someone vs wanting to be desired, etc) in the context of compulsory heterosexuality, a term describing how queer women contort themselves into relationships with men even if they’re not really into men. I saw a post a few days ago joking about why so many queer women seem to be into Zutara. I wonder if part of the reason is because as queer women, we are very sensitive to the ways in which we can talk ourselves into wanting things we don’t actually want, and Katara’s romantic interest in Aang can be easily seen that way. 
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Insatiable
Part 3/Finale to Cravings and Crash
Frankie Morales x F!Reader
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Summary: Frankie and reader spend some time apart before realizing that’s actually really stupid—and solid communication happens for once :) 
Notes: it’s finally HERE! Thank you all so much again for your words of praise and keeping with these two absolute idiots in love. Honestly intended the first one to just be a one-off drabble throw away thought, but I’m glad everyone enjoyed it so much to ask for more! I’m spitting this out earlier than expected. Don’t know if I’ve done them reasonable justice but this is what I’ve got—hope you like it!
Warnings: unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, creampies, mentions of m oral, pussy eating king returns, cum eating, missionary, doggy, cowgirl, overstimulation, fingering, squirting, bit of possessive and jealous Frankie, mentions of drug use, drugs present, language
18+ ONLY
- - - - 
You had cried when you got in your car. And again when you went to your cousin’s house to crash until you signed your new lease. And then again every night for a week straight.
You had NEVER cried this hard over a boy before.
Except this wasn't some boy—this was Frankie. The guy who comforted you through all your dates that stood you up, and shitty boyfriends, albeit few, that left you feeling less than worthwhile. The same Frankie who stood around you like a guard dog when you went drinking together so no one would even think to slip something in your cup, but who YOU have to comfort during horror movies because he's a big scared kitten. Who lets you sleep on his shoulder for five hours in the car no matter how uncomfortable it was for him, never once moving, but still ate the food you didn't like off your plate "because he's a garbage dump who'd eat anything, even mold." 
The first guy to tell you that you were beautiful when you weren't even trying to impress him. Who brings a hair tie with him when you go to eat because you always forget yours and get your hair caught in your fork. Who pushed you to take charge of your life and break up with your loser first love, and it was the hardest and best decision you could have ever made.
And you know what? The ONLY guy who made you cum 9 fucking times the FIRST time he went down on you.
You called Santi that night because you needed to let loose, and the only other person you trusted to hold you up outside of Frankie was Pope.
“So how is he?” Santi asked, as you immediately double fisted your first two shots. 
"I don't wanna talk about him tonight."
Santi nods, eyes widening as you don’t even resist the bitter taste going down your throat. He holds his finger up towards the waitress to order 4 more glasses.
You really didn't want to think about Frankie. The more you thought about him, the more confused you felt, and you couldn't afford to be confused about your purpose in his life right now. You knew battling addiction isn’t a linear healing process. That it would get worse before it got better at times. You're his friend. You're helping him. That's it. 
Frankie spent a whole year being physically intimate with you, but never once asked or made a move for anything more emotionally. So why let yourself get carried away even thinking about something more?
To even consider if you wanted more...
You snatch the shot glass out of Santi's hand right before he was about to sip it and catapulted it down your throat, the burning sensation taking your mind out of the gutter.
Fuck Frankie for not keeping his shit together. Fuck him for being hot and cold. Fuck him for using you when that's exactly what you’re here for.
It's much easier to keep it all that way. Easy to encourage him with sex to avoid overthinking his intentions. Easier to constantly verbalize it, knowing he won’t deny it, as a means of reassurance to yourself. 
But absolutely fucking HELL he’s being so difficult lately. The sex—wasn’t just good. It was fucking phenomenal. you could physically see how much better he was just moments afterwards, even if you were blacking out and falling asleep not too long after. He was so hungry for it too, why deny? But he’d been holding back too much now—getting too tense, crashing, then stressed again. You needed to get things back on schedule with him so he’d be happy again.
And gentle, nurturing, innocent, sober you just wasn't doing the trick for him anymore.
You barely hear Santi over the pounding in your head: "When we was the last time you got laid? You need a distraction from your Fix-a-Fish hobby."
You gulp down the last of the vodka on the table, suppressing a slight burp.
"I'm 'bout to do both tonight."
That was 4 weeks ago. You didn’t achieve either that night.
Fish didn't seem too upset when you left, ultimately making the choice much easier. You looked so fucking stupid walking in there, basically demanding sex from him when he made it clear all year that you were only there for HIM and not the other way around. He didn’t want you like that. 
Good. Makes staying friends that much easier.
Or it did, for a little while. 
You couldn’t get over the way he made you feel when all was well—when he’d serenade you so easily in affection like Querida, Carino, Hermosa, and you could barely contain the butterflies in your stomach each time. You had never once heard him even refer to his dates or ex girlfriends in the same manner. It was both confusing and arousing. He treated you like a best friend some times, but adored you like a lover more. 
Hadn’t the man heard of friendship boundaries? Aside from the fact he made you orgasm every minute of the day, what was Frankie like as a lover? What more could he possibly do to cross that line?
Who the hell treats their friend like that?
That last month, however, felt more realistic. Grounded in the truth of your relation. You didn’t realize how much he had gotten to you with sweet words first that made the change in his attitude so unbearable. 
You wanted to go back to being selfish with his unbridled love.
You hadn’t gotten off in over a week, a new record. But as you lay in bed, conjuring any and all pornos, audio eroticas, pillows, aching fingers, even the dusty vibrator still wrapped in its new plastic, nothing was getting you to that same addictive feeling that Frankie gave you every single day.
You should have called him to return his shirt you had accidentally packed in your bag in a haste to get out of there. But it still smelled like him. You felt perverted getting wet just by holding it in your hands, but it was doing the trick, and finally you could touch yourself without additional lubricant assistance.
All the memories that tumbled from then on only made the ache between your legs worse: The first night, Frankie between your legs, begging you to let go so he could force more orgasms from your shaking body. “Doing s’good for me, cariño. Give me more, fucking starving” ; when he held you in his lap as you grind down on his bulge, his head buried under his shirt that you were wearing as his lapped at your nipples, “Don’t you dare hold back those beautiful moans, wanna hear you singing when I’m devouring you”; when he’d come home from work and didn’t say a word, just grabbed your wrist and lead you to his bedroom, lied on the bed, slapped your ass a few times to get you to straddle him higher, higher, until you were right over his lips. He didn’t even wait for your hesitation, immediately bringing your hips down and crashing his lips on your pussy, shaking his head like a mad scientist at work, hell bent on discovering what makes you cry faster.
You pulled your fingers away from your slick cunt. No amount of memory would compare to the real thing—and it wasn’t all the acts that you needed, but the intimacy, the familiarity that came from Frankie—THAT’S what always sent you over the edge.
It scared you.
Santi was half right. You did need to get laid. Needed someone who wasn’t Frankie to remind you that you don’t rely on him for some shit like getting off (although you had developed a keen preference by now). You needed a new hobby that wasn’t thinking about Frankie all the time. YOU needed a distraction.
He was half wrong, however, because you knew very well that you’d be drowning in lame date after lame lay a million times before you got over the addictive feeling of being around Fish this past year.
It never felt like a chore. Well, obviously, you were getting ate out like a Sunday brunch. But it was everything else that made you want to keep staying around, even after he maybe didn’t need you anymore.
You realized then that leaving was the best for you and him. You had somehow managed to score a  date tonight, the first one in over a year, with a James. Or Jonathan. Or Jimmy. Something J. I think.
I’m excited. I’m going on a date. I’m going to have fun. I’m excited. Im going on a date. Im going to have fun.
You didn’t even have the care to shave tonight before you begrudgingly left for dinner and a movie.
-
He couldn't say it then. Frankie remembered so vividly the image that he wishes he could forget: you standing there, so meek and vulnerable, spilling your tears as you tried to level your emotions with your feelings and confront the fucked up situation he put you in. Maybe if you had screamed, yelled at him and cussed him out for being such a dick, then he could have told you how he truly felt.
He was always better at being shouted at by others from being in the service. The guys would let their tempers soar and just shout, honesty tumbling through like a flood, and then everything would be out on the table, and shit would get DONE.
The apartment is unforgivably quiet and cold.
He's noticing little things you left behind: your nice moisturizer, expensive shampoo, a paper towel holder. He thinks you’re mocking him by leaving bits of you around his place, so he collects them in a bin and waits for you to come retrieve them. But you don't contact him for the first week.
He starts to think maybe you left those things for him. You bought all these things while you were here, forcing him to use them with you:
"Your face is as dry as a desert; you need moisturizer, not body lotion.”
"You can't use a 4 in one hair and body wash!"
"Who the fuck doesn't have a holder for their paper towels?"
It wasn't all just sex when you were here. He remembered coming in to the bathroom when your feet were soaking in the tub, and you explained you were rubbing your calluses off your feet. He joined you, sweats pulled up above his knee as you held him down to get the stone on his crusty feet, the whole time laughing and squirming because it tickled too much. He fell on his ass in the tub desperate to escape your strangely strong grip around his ankle, getting his clothes all wet.
And despite how well he had known you even before your arrangement, he continued to learn new things about you. Like you took night showers, and could only go to bed with your hair in braid. He'd come to see you, agitated in his room all morning, waiting for you to finally wake up so he could distract his craving. He’d walk into the kitchen where you were already cooking him breakfast, slip his arms around your hip, and pull your braids out lovingly to smell scent of your shampoo waft off in waves, closing his eyes and feeling his jitters dissipate, instantly calming him like no other remedy.
Found it funny that you couldn’t use a regular spoon for cereal, always replacing it with a tea spoon because the other ones are “too big” for your mouth to fully close around. A sentiment he suspected to be a load of BS when you had no problem swallowing his cock whole and then gulping down his cum without spilling a drop.
Or when you got red sauce all over the laundry and had to borrow Frankie's shirt to sleep in. He liked that you smelled like him, that it draped over you so pretty, and you'd never wear pants underneath. He'd put you in his lap and make you hold the shirt up with your teeth, showing off your perky tits. His thumb circled your hip bone, large hand clasping your waist to keep you upright while he'd kiss your nipples, and then make you both look down and watch as he rubbed his fingers through your folds, sucking the juices off as he finger fucked you over top him.
He can't help but feel his twitch of his cock stir in his pants at the thought.
Ok. Maybe the sexual parts were a big part—how could they not be? That’s all it was, at first. And he was able to pretend like it was too. But the more time he spent with you. The more time he got to really know you, live with you, breathe you in, unravel you and bind him to you so that you had no sanctuary untouched by him, it was all over before it began. 
He sat down with Pope a week after you left: 
“You look like shit.”
Frankie grumbled, shrugging it off. He hadn’t slept, hadn’t eaten like he used to when you were around. His beard was growing in more patchy and less manicured than before.
“Have you talked to her since?”
“Don’t wanna talk about her tonight.”
Jesus, a broken record with these two, Santi thought. But he knew Fish much better, knew the exact reason why he called him out instead of all the boys together is precisely because he needed to get this off his chest. “She thought you were stressed, needed time. Clearly she was right.”
Frankie’s jaw clenched, teeth grinding so hard that he could form diamonds.
Santi cleared his throat, twirling the ice in his glass casually. “Course, I didn’t tell her you’re head over heels in love with her. Why didn’t you?”
He doesn’t deny it. Doesn’t think he could again. “Imagine how that would have gone? She was crying right there. Right in front of me, BECAUSE of me, after I’d treated her like shit for weeks until her breaking point. Would have given her some fucked up idea that that was my expression of loving her. If I’d said it then, she would never have believed me. Would have ruined everything. Including our friendship.” He pauses, staring down at his rough hands. “She deserves better,” he said weakly, more to convince himself than anyone else.
Santi leans back against the booth. He’d heard the Frankie pity train before, but this was much lower than usual. “And friendship is still good enough for you?”
“I’ll take whatever she’ll give me at this point. I can’t lose her.” 
“You can’t? Or don’t want to?”
Frankie thought about that for a while. He had realized too late he didn’t actually still need you. He hadn’t really “craved” cocaine like before. He no longer needed you tending to his every reaction, overly serving his necessities and desires, always a few steps away to brighten his smile, or warm the house with your laughter, your cooking, your terrible taste in movies, all for the sake of keeping him sane and sober.
But damn it all, he still wanted you.
Frankie goes 4 weeks of the hardest withdrawal of his life. You were right, he was getting better at not thinking about cocaine. But without you here, he's more agitated than before. It's not that he craves it now, but rather craves a substitute to get him through your absence.
He's itching for his phone, for the number of his dealer he should have blocked and deleted so long ago.
He shouldn't. It would devastate you. You'd think it's your fault because you weren't here to distract him, only making the whole lie he’s been telling himself that you could still be just friends more abundantly evident. Pushing that useless tale even further, rooting it in your mind.
 In truth, it is your fault that his entire happiness is now emotionally and physically tied to you, but he can't really blame you for leaving him since he's the big idiot. He had the entire year to make it right, damned be the consequences of your possible rejection.
He’s clenching his fist at his sides, debating whether to text his dealer. He doesn't even want that shit, at least not the way before. He just wants a distraction from the real aches that you've left behind.
And if he did... wouldn't you come back to him to make it right?
You’re so clear in his mind that doesn't even struggle, doesn't hesitate as he pays the money and carries the little pouch in his hands. He gets back to his apartment with vigorous haste, slamming the door behind him, and sits it on the coffee table, staring.
Even if you don't come back to him, getting just a little bit high would help take his mind off it all. He'd be able to stop thinking about you, even for just the night. Just to get some sleep.
Just to stop feeling.
He shakily tries to undo the tightly sealed bag, but few particle traces catch in his finger tips from outside the plastic, and he instantly wafts the infinitesimal scent of it on his finger tips. He stops, feeling something he's never felt before when staring down at the thing thats caused him so much trouble in his life:
Disgust.
-
You considered calling Frankie a million times, but how soon was too soon? Would he think you were just desperate to get ate out again? Would he deny you the second you wanted to see him, thinking it was just a booty call again? You had made some stupid choices, like going on a shitty date with a guy you weren’t even interested in, just to get over Frankie, so that you could avoid thinking about how badly you had shattered your friendship.
And going right back to being his friend, which included sharing one of your reckless decisions you make on your own, was one of them. He’d be interested in hearing about it, right?
You dial him up quickly.
You rock back and forth on your heels, unable to sit still.
The phone rings out to voicemail.
He’s never missed a phone call from you. Not even at 2am on a work night. He's never on his phone, and yet still always managed to answer your calls even if it’s on the last ring.
He's just avoiding you again. It's fine. Santi said he'll get over it eventually. That you’ve done enough worrying for him, and need to take care of yourself for a change.
You glance at the key he gave back to you, and not even a moment later, are soon slipping on shoes and heading out the door with it in hand.
-
You unlock the door and slowly walk in to the familiar layout of Frankie's apartment. It's entirely dark, curtains drawn save for a small crack in the shades. You call out his name tentatively, the eeriness of the place making you anxious. When you see the bathroom light on and door slightly ajar, hearing the rushing sink water running, you sigh relief.
Thank God.
You gently push open the door. "Fish?" You see him, heart skipping a beat at how much thinner, paler he looked now than before, eyes sunk from lack of sleep.
His eyes light up when he sees you, and your heart breaks at how different he looks but STILL has the brightest, softest, loving smile at you.
Your eyes drift down, smile fading, horror quickly overtaking your face at the unopened baggie of white powder sitting at the sink. And his face drops at the realization.
You take one step back, unable to close the gape in your lips, petrified. "Fish—I—holy fuck..."
You had never seen him doing it, never seen him freshly blown high from it. The closest you ever got was what the boys would tell you, or seeing the long aftermath of his crash. They were always first on the scene and quite frankly, ensured you were never the one to find in him these states. You had never been able to mentally prepare to have to handle it now.
"No—no no no! It's not, I didn’t, I didn't! Look—ok it looks like I did but I swear I haven't touched it. It’s still sealed! I’m. I'm dumping it down the toilet."
You don't trust his word, seeing as the bag is here, albeit fully wrapped up, seal unbroken like he said. But here, nonetheless. With him. In front of you with no denial that it was his. 
He gets on his knees and wraps his arms around your waist. “Please don’t leave me. I didn’t want you to leave the first time…”
“And it’s taking you being high right now to admit that?!”
I’m not high, seriously. Check me.” You peer down closer, and aside from his rampant heart beating against your leg and big round eyes, there’s no trace of smell or lingering white powder anywhere on him. But you’re hesitant.
“I bought it but then realized It wasn’t what I really wanted…”
He licks his lips quickly, his brown eyes pleading up to you, biceps flexing against your ribcage.
Your chest is pounding, the encasing feeling of Frankie refusing to let you back away making you feel like a trapped rabbit. 
“Please believe me,” he breathes.
"Your eyes are dilated as fuck Frankie!"
"That's because of you!"
You both hold your breath, a pregnant silence ringing in the air.
“I—I’m. Um. I meant." His eyes trail off sheepishly as a warm blush takes over his face. 
He stands up, rubbing the back of his head. He can tell you’re patiently waiting for him to get over his blubbering awkwardness so he can explain properly. To find the words he’s combing his brain for. And find them he did: 
"I miss you, Querida.”
He breathes slowly, time catching up and suddenly stopping. 
You glance toward the bag, still fearful that he had gotten to this point while you were gone. “Frankie. I’m—I’m so sorry I wasn’t here. For your needs—“
“I don’t need you to fix me. I haven’t craved that shit for a while, still don’t even now. I just wanted you here with me.” He snatches the baggie and chucks it in the toilet, immediately flushing it.
You want to say that might not be great for the plumbing, but Frankie’s hands are on yours, holding them securely to his chest. “I just want you. I should have said it before you walked away.  Should’ve said it a year ago, when I knew I didn’t want to pretend this was just some—some drug replacement.” He goes quieter. “I didn’t want this to be nothing. I thought when we had sex, maybe you’d feel the same, but you didn’t—”
“I was afraid about what would happen to you If our dynamic changed, Fish. I was worried it was just another high. So I tried to make things go back to how they were since it seemed to be working so well for you before,” you rambled. He can see the shininess in your eyes, feel how your body is no longer resisting him and instead, cradling his neck with affection, empathy, nurture, all the things he’d been depraved of for weeks. “But then it made everything worse and I didn’t know what to do—“
He cut you off, as if suddenly things didn’t line up. ”Why did you come back?"
You lick your lips, eyes unable to meet his. “Well I called, and you didn't answer. And I wanted to check up on you, and tell you... um—I mean I always tell you about… I went on a date, my first one in over a year."
Frankie's eyes blankly drift lower, down to your feet, his arms retreating. He takes an awkward step back. "How... how did it go?" He asks slowly, feeling the distance between the two of you growing again.
You throw your hands up in the air, unable to express yourself. “He was…Handsome. Funny. Charming. Paid for me, made me feel pretty, treated me real good—“
He nodded, unable to bring his eyes anywhere else but back to the back on the sink as he listened. “S’good. That’s what you deserve,” he says, jaw tensing.
“Yeah. Yeah it is what I deserve.” You pause, here goes everything. “Except the whole time, I hated the fact that he was nothing like you." 
Frankie’s attention darts back to you as you cup his scruffy face in your hands. "You're irritable, and sassy, and needy and clingy, and you pout when you don't get what you want. And you don't listen to me or stop when I tell you to stop—“
A roasting fest? Now?? “OK, That's, Jesus, I get it—“
"And I love all those things about you.” You hold his gaze, feeling his breath seize in his chest. “And I miss being here. I miss waking up with you every morning, and your smug face being the last I see before I go to sleep. And it took me until after I left to realize how I actually felt about you. This whole year with you has felt like this perfect—“
"High?"
Your brows furrow shyly. “I didn’t want to put it that way, for obvious reasons. But fuck it. Yes. I don’t—I don’t wanna let that go.”
His fingers tense around your waist, almost begging you to say it, spill it out for him and don’t hold back ever again. 
“You got me addicted to you, Francisco."
You aren't aware of how fast he moves, his hands grabbing your neck as he smashes his lips to yours. Your heart is beating out of your chest when he sucks every breath from you, barely separating from your lips to utter "I've waited—so long—for you—“ He hoists you up on his waist and brushes out of the bathroom with your legs wrapped securely around him, his kiss hot and full of passion the entire time. "Wanted you since you first let me have a taste of you.” He slams you on the bed, the familiarity of you two being in this exact situation settles on you. “Wanted you to want me. Want more.”
He continues to engulf your lips with his, his moans vibrating against your tongue. "I shouldn’t—“ he hastily bites your lip with a grunt “—shouldn't have pushed you away—treated you so bad.” He pauses his assault. “I was so scared you didn't want me like that. Couldn't handle pretending I could be okay with it.”
You place your hands on his chest, feeling the pounding of his heart matching yours. "Frankie, I want you."
"Good," he smiles, leaning up to remove his shirt over his shoulders. You whine at the sight. Draping himself over you, his lips never leave your body as he kisses down your chest then back to your lips. You’re unable to bring yourself to action as his body dictates both of your moves.
You feel his bulge pressing painfully against your core, eliciting an obscene moan from your throat. "Frankie—Let me take care—“
"No. Fuck no. I'm taking care of you tonight. And tomorrow, and every fuckin’ day after," he growls.
He kisses you once again but then slowly backs away. "Um, if... if you want that."
He feels your hand tangle in the hair behind his neck as you bring his face back to yours, teeth clashing for dominance. "I want it," you whisper, sucking his lower lip and biting it possessively.
His jaw hitches. “Prove it."
You unbutton your pants, taking his large hand and guiding it down your panties in haste. His digits make contact between your folds, the two of you sighing.
"Oh f-fuck. You want this, don't you?"
"Want you so bad, Frankie. It fucking hurts.”
His fingers dont leave your dripping cunt, spreading your slick around your swollen clit. His other rips your string underwear off with incredible strength. He then helps push your shirt over your head, and you immediately unclasp your bra. Frankie growls lowly at the sight of your perky breasts bouncing from their release. "Fuck, I missed these.” His mouth wraps around as much fat of your tit he could before biting, making you lurch. 
“I—I’m not gonna be slow—I wanted to—“
"Jesus Fish, I don’t care, just take me!"
He plunges two of his thick digits into your soaking heat, making your back arch off the bed. He takes the opportunity to suck a nipple back into his mouth, half his body hovering over you to keep your form perfectly positioned between his mouth and fingers. They teasingly thrust in and out slowly from your hole, intentionally dragging out his torture against you. "So mean to me, baby." His teeth nip at your nipple with a smug grin. "Takin’ my sweet little pussy away from me like that. I barely touched you and you're absolutely soaked. Were you wet on your way here?"
"Frankie I haven't... haven't been able to get off in weeks."
"How long?"
You moan out loud, eyes rolling back as your brain turns to mush. Your hand tries to guide his wrist faster but he slaps it away, continuing his teasing ministrations.
"Answer me!"
"Since the last time you touched me!" You cry.
He haults his movements. 
The girl who bragged about cumming an average of 6 times a day just grinding on a pillow, now telling him she hasn't been able to orgasm in a month, because of him.
Ohhhhhhh fuuuuccccckkkkkfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck. “That why you went on your little date, huh?"
You nod shamefully.
"Did you fuck him?"
You whine, eyes burrowing in confusion that he still expected you have coherent thoughts while he had you in this compromising position, teetering on the brink of your much needed orgasm.
"Your date.” He repeats, his wrist slowing down entirely. “Did. You. Fuck. Him."
“No—no! I didn’t even let him kiss me goodnight. Couldn't even get wet for him, that's how bad—Frankie, fuck! please!—bad you've got me fucked up."
He speeds up his hands, satisfied with your confessions. They are thrusting perfectly in and out at record speeds as his jaw clenched around your tit, watching your eyes roll back as your first orgasm in WEEKS overwhelms you fast. You’re shaking violently, legs desperate to close but Frankie pries them open with his strong hand, continuing to dominate your cunt with his incessant fingers.
You feel something else coming as he continues to ram his wrist against you, fingers digging so deep, curling so effortlessly that you can’t stop the gush of liquid squirting out of you. “Oh shit, oh fuckfuckFUCK that’s it! That’s my girl, holy fuck yeah—yeah keep going, Cariño, so fucking good.” He continues to finger fuck you repeatedly, working you through it as your pussy continues to contract and release your spend.
You hardly have time to process your embarrassment as he's shifting below your hips, throwing your thighs over shoulder and giving your soaked pussy a longing look. Your clit twitches excitedly. Cool air is blown on it, making you fist his hair harder. He presses his large nose into you, inhaling your scent like bloodhound, growling like a man possessed at the sticky coating. "I fucking missed you, Hermosa," he groans, and his mouth latched right on to your pulsing cunt. You gasp, hands fisting his hair as he rolls your overstimulated clit with his tongue, jaw opening wide to practically swallow your pussy whole, sucking away everything you're giving him.
Whether he was talking to you or your pussy, it didn’t really matter to you. All you could process was the rough feeling of his fat tongue and scruffy face rubbing perfectly between your legs as Frankie got reacquainted with his former addiction. "FrankieFrankieFranke-ohFUCK!"
You can’t stop him, can’t even warn him as the overstimulation send you into a fit of gasps, cumming again, legs squeezing his head as painful pleasure courses through you. His upper back is littered in your scratches, the red marks raising his skin like tiger stripes.
You're struggling to catch your breath with ragged moans. He slows his licks to draw it out, letting your spasms pass. His sinful, lidded eyes have never left your face, absorbing every reaction from you, committing it to memory.
"You really have neglected this poor pussy," he teases, kissing your clit as his fingers begin to spread your glistening folds once again.
You can only nod, arms covering your face as he starts to rub the pad of his thumb on your swollen nub again. “It’s—not as good—unless it’s you.”
He grits his teeth in satisfaction. “S’okay. M’ gonna take care of you now. Gonna fuck you real soon."
You whine when he pushes his fingers back in to your tight heat.
"And then, when I’m done fucking you—We're gonna fuck again," he laughs.
You’re a bit frightened with how he’s looking at you: like he’s fucking possessed by a hungry, malicious demon.
He makes you cum on his fingers again, then his lips, then both at once. He’s pinning you down so harshly, you have no choice but to take the endless barrage of orgasms he’s forcing from you, almost as if he’s trying to make up for the time you two have been apart. 
By the time his tastebuds are content, he brings himself back up to you, messily kissing your lips so you taste yourself, his beard and stache now soaked in your cum and rubbing along your chin.
You gasp when you feel his hard cock sliding along your folds. He rolls his hips against you, your copious slick letting him glide effortlessly, tip nudging your clit.
“Frankie,” you warn, unable to handle his teasing now.
He grabs the base of his dick. “Beg. Beg me for it,” He commands with a godly voice you’d never heard him use before. He slaps the underside of his throbbing member repeatedly against your pussy with a taptaptaptap. “Tell me you want it.”
You don’t care for the fat tears spilling down your cheeks as you whine like a bitch in heat. “Fuckyou, Frankie,” you seethe, anger building with your desperation. “I fucking want it, want it so bad, want you to ruin me, please, Fish, fucking please put it in already!”
He grins, big and sadistic as he watches your face contort with the first push of his tip into your wetness. “Oh F—“ he breathes, eyes closing as your tight walls do their best to accomodate his size.
Your eyesight is blurry, waves of pleasure rolling throughout your entire body, delirious as he bottoms out. Where he belongs. Where he’s always meant to be.
He presses his forehead to you as his hips start rutting.
He’s hardly fucked you for a few seconds, but the pressure building inside of you, desperate for this moment again after months, isn’t giving you a choice to savor it. “Fish—fuckfuckfuckfuckFUCK! ‘M not gonna last!"
He growls excitedly, driving his cock more harshly into you, reaching that special spot he’s decided is only his to abuse. “It’s okay, babygirl. You cum for me. You're always so good at it."
And you are, you really are. “OH FUCK FRANKIE!” You scream. Your body agreeing with him so much that your abrupt orgasm squeezes around him so hard, his movements stop altogether.
“Oh shit—“ he hisses, your pussy greedily milking the cum right out of him. He only pauses for a moment, shaking over you for a moment as his first orgasm subsides before his hips are moving of their own accord, his cum forced out with each thrust.
“Keep goin’, pretty thing. Give me more,” he grunts. 
You nod deliriously, eyes rolled to the back of your skull as he pounds your battered puussy.
He pulls out, the sudden withdrawal making you whine with emptiness. He sinks to his knees again, yanking your knees up to your chest. Your pussy twitches, his cum spilling out and sinking down your ass.
He lets out of primal groan from the back of his throat before smashing his mouth on your cunt, sucking your clit and tongue fucking your hole like a cream filled pastry. You feel the descending bob of his Adam’s apple against your rear as he swallows the mixture of your cum, drinking it like liquid life from the source. “We taste—so—fucking—good, Princesa,” he taunts, tongue lapping your little clit in quick succession before shaking his head back and forth aggressively against your mound, smearing the obscene mixture across your folds and making a mess.
Oh fuck, he’s so gone.
He quickly gets on his knees, turning you over on your stomach like you weigh nothing. His hands grip around your hips, bringing them flush against his crotch again as you arch your back for him. He puts his palm on the small of your back, keeping you right there, pressed tight against him as his cock slides back into your eager and cum coated cunt.
“Fuck yeah,” he groans, setting a faster pace this time. You hadn't realized just how much Frankie was holding back the first time you had sex. He leans over your body, hands splayed past your shoulders, fisting the bed as he rails you deep, his thighs crashing against you with harsh slaps. Your temple lands against his cheek, meeting eye contact. He smiles, breath caught in his throat like running a mile at your fucked out expression. 
He continues to fuck you like an animal. A soft hand grips your chin lovingly, tilting your head further back so his lips meet yours with each punishing grind. You’re surprised by how much you love the hold he has on you, willingly submitting to him without being told. Drunk on each other’s lust.
You suck greedily around his tongue, hand reaching behind the two of you to play with his soft brown curls, refusing to let him leave your mouth. He stutters with a few more thrusts before halting, eyes scrunched closed. “AUUGHHH—haaaahh!” You feel the twitch of him inside you, draining his balls some more of his plentiful seed. 
“Fuck, fuck I love it when you cum inside me!” You confess. The action makes you fall forward, mouth burying into his pillows as you muffle your own cry of your release again.
He pulls out of you and flops to the bed. You think maybe he is done, after having cum twice now, bur Frankie is quick to bring you to straddle him, his dick never once softening as it presses incessantly to your entrance again. He licks his lips, watching his cum spill down your thighs, right to his creamy cock that refuses to fully part from you. 
“Frankie,” you moan, unsure if you can take him again.
“Want you just like this. Ride me,” he breathes. He’s covered in sweat, out of breath and shaking with a mix of exhaustion and adrenaline if it were possible. His hands gently wrap around your waist as he guides you. Eyes so lidded, transfixed on the area where your mound slowly swallows him again.
You’re nodding, body taking over all actions, completely starved for the man under you. 
He leans up to get a good look at you, taking it slow, burning this in head to remember.
"Thought about you... everyday.” He whispers, mouth parted in lust, gliding your hips along with steady rolls. “Couldn't sleep."
His hands down along the curve of your ass, to your thighs spread out over him, before rubbing up the length of your back, holding you as close to him as he can possibly bring you, your tits pressing against his chest. He struggles to breathe evenly as your creamy pussy continues to tighten around him each time he breaches you, the two of you moaning softly into each others’ open mouths. He occasionally catches your lips, slotting perfectly as you grind against him.
His mouth finds its way back down to your pebbled nipple, biting gently before kissing it better. He brings his face back to yours. “So perfect for me,” he whispers.
You start grinding on him more fervently, lifting yourself on your knees ever slightly and baring down on him. He grits his teeth, sinking further down into the bed, eyes never leaving you as his digs his nails into the meat of your hips, forcing you to bounce harder. 
“That’s it, baby. Ride me just like that. MY girl, my beautiful girl.”
You bite your lips, feelings your clit catch on his public hairs. The sloppy squelching of his cum being driven out of your heat by his thick cock is no match to the heavenly sounds you were making atop him. The vein in his neck strains like he’s suffocating himself from air, refusing to slow down, to take a break, to let go for even just a moment.
“More. Give me more,” you moan, confidence soaring as you feel him begin to meet your hips with every thrust. “I want all of you, Frankie.”
He shouts out, lifting you up, his feet digging into mattress as he fucks you from below. “Fuck, fuck!”
You want to throw your head back, ride out this high, but the dangerous allure of him watching you brings your focus down to him, watching the way the two of you are getting off to the other falling apart.
“Just like this. You n’ me. Want it just like this. Forever.” He mumbles repeatedly, ragged pants uneven as he fills you the way you had been unknowingly wanting for months.  
You feel the build of your umpteenth orgasm building in your lower tummy. “Frankie-F-Franke! I’m—I’m gonna—“
“Do it, Querida, do it f-for me.” He thinks he can starve off the low build of his third orgasm of the night, just enough to make you cum for him once more.
You feel the heavy knot in your stomach snap. With absolutely no hesitation, no doubt behind your word, you cry out, “I love you!” as you cum harder than any time before.
Lifting you both practically off the bed, Frankie’s hips seize, pressed so tightly against yours there was no room between you. He shouts loudly, animalistic, snarling with his teeth baring at you and 0 control left in him, immediately emptying his load deep inside with each heavy pulse of his cock against your cervix, painting your walls white with the last of his cum that his balls could give you.
You collapse on top of him, the two of you sucking  air like you were underwater for years. Neither of you say anything, covered in sweat and cum, but finally being able to relax from the pent up release that’s been building there far longer than it ever should have been.
His hand rests against your lower back, somehow pressing your naked body closer to his. 
“I love you,” you whisper again to his collarbone. He brings your eyes to his, and this time he knows you mean it.
-
Frankie wakes to a cold bed.
His arm reaches out subconsciously for your body, but only feels cool empty sheets at his side. His eyes fly open, head sitting upright as he scans his bedroom. There's no sign of you. None of your clothes are scattered on the floor, no immediate trace of your scent. He feels a strong pain in his chest suffocating and stabbing him all at once.
He lies back flat on his pillow, fingers rubbing his forehead. He has two thoughts: the first thought, the one he'd rather think is true, is that it was all dream. You hadn't come home to him.
Before he could bring himself to consider the pain of the second thought, the fear is instantly squashed when he hears the door creak open, your sweet soft smile and gentle eyes landing on him.
‘Hiiiii,” you whisper in a singsong, gentle morning voice. Tip toeing bare foot on the hardwood floor, he see’s you’re dressed in nothing but one of Frankies slightly torn over sized, faded band T shirts that swallows your body. Your bed head still evident, eyes baggy yet happy from the events of last night.
He didn't realize he had held his breath the moment before you walked in, afraid that rather than having dreamt it all, that it did happen, and you had left him anyway.
"I made you tea," you hummed, setting the two cups down by his bedside table.
Your ears go red at the image of him: sheet pulled half way up his hip, his bare chest and torso visible as he props himself up with his elbows to get a good look at you. And the WAY he's looking at you, like you’re the only thing that matters in the world, has you sheepishly avoiding his big brown pupils, sliding in to the covers and nuzzling your head against his shoulder.
He wraps his arms around you, unwilling to let you sneak off again. “Don’t wake up before me like that again.”
You giggle. “Frankie, it’s 4 in the afternoon.” 
He checks his digital clock by the bed, true to your word. You both had fucked so hard, so long last night that he didn’t even realize it was well into the morning by the time you had drifted to sleep. 
He lies back down in bed, encircling you to him again. He can more clearly see the damage of last night’s episode on you: bite marks along your tits, hickies against your inner thighs and swollen lips. he doesn’t even need to touch your pussy, feeling its puffy soreness pressing against his leg. He kisses you gently yet passionately this morning, cradling your head so you can’t back away. Not that you want to—he doesn’t feel any resistance in your movements as you devour his lips. 
“I love you,” he says clearly. He can feel the way your breath hitches, the blush on your cheeks at the confession. “I love you, and I’m so sorry it took me so long to say it. I’m sorry I caused you so much confusion and I—“
“Okay, Fish. It’s okay. I know.” You bite your lip, pushing your hand against his chest so that he’s lying down on his back. “But I’m not sure I forgive you just yet.”
A brief moment of confusion wracks his face before you’re clambering on top of him again, your naked lower body straddling his under the sheet. You fist the t shirt of your head, letting your soft supple breasts fall. Frankie immediately grabs them tenderly with both of his warm hands, his breath quickening. His length twitches, hard as a rock and pressing right against his lower stomach as you glide your slick folds along him.
“I think you should keep making it up to me.” You align the tip of his throbbing cock against your swollen entrance and sink down, hands seeking purchase on his chest, scratching the skin there as he fills your sore cunt, taking him down to the hilt in one go.
You let out the tiniest, sexiest whimper, and Frankie is ready to drop everything he’s ever owned just to hear it again. So smitten with you, he’s grinning harder than he has his entire life. Like a big dumb idiot.
Your big dumb idiot.
“Jesus fucking Christ, Querida: I love you.”
Tagging people who either requested a part 2/3 or directly requested to be tagged. At least what i can remember (sorry if I missed you!)
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touyasdoll · 1 year
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Like a Sister
Pairing: Katsuki Bakugou x best friend's little sister!reader
! Disclaimer ! NO INCEST. NO STEPCEST. absolutely nothing against those who write/read that, but this isn't that and I just wanna make that clear <3
Word count: 5k
Warnings: reader is Kiri's adoptive younger sister. I always try to make everything as inclusive as possible, so pls let me know (politely!) if I failed somewhere. fem reader, alcohol, intentionally making someone jealous, reader is wearing a skirt & a charm bracelet, reader gets picked up, missionary/intimate sex, no real prep, lots of feelings involved
Notes: I'm so sorry that this took literally over a year, but I hope that you enjoy it <3
Heartbeats & Handgrenades Masterlist
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Your big brother is always looking out for you. You two have been close for as far back as you can remember and he’s always been very protective of you, because the absolute worst thing that he can think of is seeing you get hurt, so he does whatever he can to prevent that. 
It’s sweet, of course, and you love him for it. Eijirou is the best sibling that anyone could ask for. It’s nice having someone who cares enough to look out for you the way that he does. 
However. 
The problem is that he does so damn good of a job trying to look out for you that he ends up scaring off most of the guys you’re interested in. 
It started back in your school days. You’re only a year younger than your adoptive big bro, so you almost always attended the same school. But the moment that he put two and two together and realized that boys had taken an interest in you? It was like his protection skills leveled up. It was as if he had developed a sixth sense for when a cute boy was talking to you. He was always just around somehow. 
It went beyond your time in school though. It’s now become a sizable problem for you well into your adulthood. The same routine over and over again. The guy you’re talking to finds out that you’re the Red Riot’s little sister and suddenly they’re ghosting you for fear of ending up on his bad side. They’ve seen what he’s capable of. Well, physically capable of. In actuality, you don’t think that anyone who did cross you would get more than maybe a stern talking to from the “fearsome” hero. You can’t really blame them though. Most people don’t look at the rock hard hero and think of him as the teddy bear that you know him to be. 
The worst part is that doesn’t even realize that he’s essentially a chronic cockblock and you haven’t ever had the heart to tell him. Not that you think you want to. It is a bit of an awkward conversation to broach with your elder brother. How are you supposed to tell him that him being terrifyingly good at his job is what’s causing all your dick appointments to cancel on you? Especially when he thinks that you’re still such a sweet girl too. Such an innocent girl. Thankfully, he is incorrect there. His brawn doesn’t scare away absolutely everyone that you’re interested in. You’ve had plenty of practice by ways of shallow dating app hookups and bad decisions made after one too many at the bar. But it’s not like you’ve ever brought anyone home to meet the family, so he’s none the wiser to your ways. 
You’ve never so much as mentioned anyone you were seeing to your brother, which is fine by him. In his humble opinion, no one’s good enough for you anyway, which is something that he has expressed multiple times; it’s not a secret that’s what he thinks. He’s more than prepared to see you as his pure, innocent little sister forever.
Bakugou though? He has a lot more trouble picturing you as innocent.
He’s spent too many nights fisting his cock to the thought of your tight pussy wrapped around him. He’s imagined the taste of you on his tongue one too many times to see you as the virginal sweetheart that his best friend believes that you are.
He hates himself for it too. Hates that he always ends up here, furiously stroking himself while suffocating the sound of your name on his lips into his pillow, lest his roommate—your brother—hear him. Hates it. 
Because as much as he lusts after you, he loves you more. He's had to insist to Mina, who can see through his ruse and has called him out of it before, that he loves you like a sister, but in truth, he loves every little thing about you far beyond that. The sound of your laugh, listening to you talk about your interests, even the face that you make when something’s bothering you. He knows it immediately, because all he does when you’re around is watch you. He wants to know what upsets you, so that he can avoid it, so that he can fix it. So that he can make you happy, because that’s all that he’s ever wanted for you. Happiness. 
He couldn't tell you when it started, this little crush of his. As far as he can recall, he's always been drawn to you. You, who would always tag along with the rest of the gang back when you were all in high school. Who never seemed put off by his abrasive personality, even though it was certainly much worse back then. Who, even still today, always offers him a smile and makes his day just a bit brighter with only your presence.
He also couldn't tell you how he felt. First, he had no idea if you felt the same. He liked to think that he was fairly emotionally intelligent, good at reading cues and all that, but when it came to you, he was clueless. And he wasn’t sure that he’d be able to take the rejection. 
Little did he know that you were trying to make it obvious. Your innocent schoolgirl crush had turned into something that ran much deeper than that after so many years of knowing Bakugou. Much like your brother, you immediately saw past his tough exterior and came to realize that he's actually one of the most caring and thoughtful people that you've ever met. He's always looking out for others, and you’ve noticed that you are no exception.
He saw you out on a date once, which was the point. You went to his usual coffee shop with some guy, because you knew that he would be there after his shift for an afternoon pick-me-up. You had hoped that it would make him jealous. That maybe you could get a sense for whether or not he harbored the same feelings that you did. Whether or not he had the same recurrent  thoughts about the feeling of his skin on yours. You just wanted to know; you wanted an inkling of something to prove that maybe he was just as interested as you. 
He did seem irritated beyond that typical gruff facade of his, but he also seemed genuine when he pulled you aside and told you that your date wasn't worth your time. Of course, he'd been right too. Not too long after Bakugou had scooped up his order and bolted, the idiot in question started visibly ogling other patrons in the cafe.
He was always right. About everything. It would honestly be annoying if he wasn't so good at giving advice. You knew that you could always go to him with even the silliest of problems and he'd offer you an attentive ear and a few words of wisdom that you never would've considered on your own. He had a knack for solving your every dilemma. 
Which gives you a wicked idea. 
He's always helped you out before. So why can't he help you with this little problem that you're having now?
Feeling a stroke of genius, you hatch a plan to send Bakugou signals that he can't miss.
You check the time on your phone. 2:16 PM. Your brother still has plenty of time left during his patrol shift and Katsuki is most likely at the apartment all by himself. 
///
Half an hour later, you’re rapping your knuckles against the apartment door and before you can even drop your hand back to your side, the door’s swinging open. 
Bakugou stands before you in gray sweatpants and a loose muscle tank that may have been a sleeved shirt at one point, but now it’s been cut nearly all the way to the hem on both sides. His face twists in confusion as he looks down at you.
“Didn’t your brother tell you he was workin’ today? He won’t be home for another couple hours.”
“I know,” you say simply, shrugging and clasping your hands behind your back as you stroll inside the apartment. “I came to see you.”
“Me?” He asks, sounding slightly incredulous, though he covers it by clearing his throat. “Why? Ya need somethin’?”
“Yeah, actually. Do you have a minute?” 
You go ahead and slip your shoes off by the door before making yourself comfortable on the couch, fanning out your short skirt, so that it drapes across your thigh just right when you cross your legs. 
“I’ve always got time for you.” 
He shrugs, sauntering over to take a seat on the opposite side of the couch. He angles his body to face you as he sprawls out, his muscular arm laying over the back of the couch, fingers almost near enough to touch your shoulder. 
“What’s goin’ on?”
It’s hard to focus on his question when you can see so much of his bare chest beneath his altered tank top, but his voice pulls your eyes to his face and your brain, thankfully, catches up. 
“I’ve just been having some boy troubles,” you admit, a soft pout pursing your lips together. You don’t miss the glance that he steals at them. 
“Well, that’s your problem,” he scoffs. “Stop dating boys and trying dating a man for a change. Boys are just gonna break your heart. A real man’ll treat ya right.”
“By a real man, do you mean someone like.. you?” 
You ask so blatantly that it makes his head spin. He doesn’t even register your hand on his knee until a full two seconds later; he’s too busy trying to process whether or not you actually said what he thinks you said. He looks down and you swear you can sense the nervous energy radiating off of him as he lifts his hand to rest it atop your own. He doesn’t want you to stop touching him, but he’s already picturing folding you in half right there on the couch and he respects his best friend too much to ever do something like that to his sister. Or at least, that’s what he keeps telling himself.
“Someone like me, yeah,” he says as he starts to push your hand away, but he can’t bring himself to actually do it. 
He presses his hand down on top of yours and finds the nerve to meet your gaze, which he immediately recognizes as a mistake. That little smile on your lips. The sense of longing that he’s almost certain he can see in your eyes. They’re both dwindling his resolve down to nothing. 
“Well, why not you?” You shrug, daring to slip your hand up to his thigh. “Why can’t I have you, Katsuki?”
He can’t believe how simple you’re making it sound. As if you two could be together just like that? What would Kirishima think? What would he do? He’s at a loss for words. He can think of reasons to say no, but all that he wants to say is yes. 
“Out of every man that I’ve ever met, you’ve always treated me the best,” you say as you look down at your hands, placing your other one on top of his. “You’re always here for me when I need you. You look out for me. You actually seem to care about how I’m doing. You even pay attention to the little things like how I take my coffee or even when I wear a different perfume. Why shouldn’t I be with a guy who does all of that?”
His heart is pounding in his chest. He’s never actually felt his pulse move quite this fast and considering his line of work, that’s saying something. He opens his mouth, trying to find a way to refuse you, but he can’t. He just can’t. 
“You should,” he starts, brows knitting together with regret. “You absolutely should and you shouldn’t settle for anything less, but I don’t.. I don’t know if..”
His lips press together in a hard line. He can’t even say the words. You tilt your head and the disappointed look on your face just about kills him right there. 
“It’s okay, I understand. I thought that..” you trail off, looking down as you start to pull your hands away. “I’m sorry. I must’ve been misreading things.”
“No,” he says quickly, sandwiching both of your hands between his own as you lift your head to meet his eyes once more and he finds relief in the hope that he finds there. “No, that’s not it. I,” he sighs. “You didn’t misread anything. I like you. Goddamn, do I fucking like you..”
HIs ruby eyes search your face, a melancholy smile just barely turning up the corners of his mouth. You hold your breath, trying to prepare yourself for the inevitable ‘but’ that you feel coming. 
“But I don’t know if I could do that to your brother.”
Your shoulders slump and your face falls too, eyes averting to focus on a spot on the floor as you nod your head. You would try to mask your disappointment, but you can’t seem to. Even in this scenario, being Red Riot’s little sister hinders your romantic prospects. 
“I was hoping that because it’s you it wouldn’t be an issue,” you say quietly, retracting your hands as you stand up. “I’m really sorry for bothering you with this. Just don’t even tell him that I was here, please. I’ll get out of your hair before I embarrass myself further.”
You turn to leave and he flies to his feet, reaching out to take your hand and spin you around to face him. His impressively large form looms over you, sizing you up with a genuinely curious expression. 
“What do you mean by that? Because it’s me?”
“I don’t know.” You shrug, looking up at him with those doe eyes again. “I just figured that if ever there was a guy that he thought he could trust would treat me right, it’d be you. He respects you more than anyone else he knows. He’s known you forever. He even still looks up to you. If you don’t meet the standard in his eyes then.. I don’t know that anyone ever will.”
He doesn’t know what to say to that. He just stares down at you with knit brows and a scowl on his lips, rendered both pensive and frustrated by just how much sense it makes. He can’t deny that. But he also can’t ignore the seemingly infinite amount of times that Kirishima had warned every single member of their friend group growing up that you were strictly off limits. 
Then again. You’re an adult. He’s an adult. And he’s always thought that his friend was a bit too overbearing when it came to your dating life. He gets where he’s coming from; he doesn’t want you dating an asshole, but they’re on the same page there. And this is different. Right? What you’re saying makes sense. He’d never hurt you. He wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he did. Kirishima would understand this logic, wouldn’t he?
He hoped so.
You’re waiting for him to say something. Do something. Anything. Finally, he seems to snap out of his thoughts and he tugs on your hand, pulling you closer to slip his arm around your waist as his hand leaves yours to cup your cheek. He kisses you the way that he’s wanted to for so, so long and it feels too right to seem like the wrong decision. 
It happens so fast that you’re caught off guard. It takes a moment for it to register that this is actually happening, but when you realize, you kiss him back with just as much passion. All that tension is broken, shattered to pieces to leave nothing but a sense of all encompassing need in its place. You press your hands to his chest, fingers tightening around the fabric of his tank to tug impatiently. You’d both waited long enough. You’d both waited long enough for this and it was becoming evident just how little patience the both of you had left by the way that you’re hands are greedily exploring each other’s bodies. 
“Are you sure about this?” He manages to mutter between feverish kisses as his hands start to skim beneath your top. “Because I don’t think I’ll survive it if you end up changin’ your mind on me, princess.”
“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life,” you reply without hesitation, reaching down to pull your top off completely before you reach back to unhook your bra. 
You lean in to kiss him again, but he pulls back to take in the sight of you. He’s dreamed about this moment for too long, but it’s clear now that his imagination hasn't been able to do you justice. 
“You’re so beautiful,” he says so sincerely that it makes you stop for a moment as your cheeks grow warm. 
You lean in again to grab the hem of his shirt, giving him a chaste kiss before you lift it over his head and toss it aside. Your fingertips explore the shape of his abs, traveling up and over his chest until your hands are pressed behind his neck to pull him in once more. 
“So are you,” you murmur against his lips, capturing them again to slip your tongue into his mouth. 
His large hands find the small of your back before they dip lower to cup your ass. He flips up your skirt and groans when he feels the warmth of your bare skin, massaging your cheeks with a firm but gentle touch. His confidence seems to be growing as quickly as his erection has. You think to yourself that he must not have anything beneath his sweats with the way that you can feel his cock prodding at you.
He helps you shed the rest of your clothing, tugging your panties off along with your skirt before he lifts his arms to let you lift his tank and toss it aside. He’s thoroughly worked up and ready to go, but nothing could have prepared him for the feeling of your palm against his throbbing member. His breath hitches and the noise he makes almost sounds pained. All he can think about is having you wrapped around him. He nearly forgets to breathe as he bucks his hips into your touch. A whine even slips from his lips.
“You really don’t know what you do to me,” he murmurs, eyes closed and hands greedy as they knead the fat of your ass again. 
“I think I have an idea,” you reply, wearing a playful smile as you cut to the chase and tug his sweats down to wrap your hand around his fully exposed and swollen cock. 
He suddenly stoops down to grab you behind your thighs, effortlessly lifting you up onto his waist as he silences you with a commanding kiss. He steps out of the sweats now pooled around his ankles and carts you off to the bedroom. 
Your arms are wound tight around his neck and neither one of you seems to want to come up for air. Even when he lays you down, he keeps his lips moving against yours. You part your legs and his fingertips skim along the outside of your thigh as his hips start to roll. He can’t even pretend that he’s in control of them as his tip begins to press against your slit, begging to part your lips and slip right inside of you. 
“Do it,” you beg, the plea hardly a whisper as you continue crashing your lips into his. “Please, Katsuki. I’m ready, I promise. Just fuck me already.”
You shift your hips forward and, as much as he wants to take his time with you, he can’t help himself when you manage to nudge the head of his cock inside of you. He immediately gets lost in the warm, wet, and welcoming sensation of your walls. You apparently weren’t kidding when you said you were ready. He drags his hips back and then allows himself to be sucked in as he slowly sinks himself inside. 
The both of you let out a sigh of mutual relief and he pushes himself up, placing his hands on either side of your body to stare down at your perfect face. He gives another roll of his hips and struggles to keep his own eyes open, so that he can watch the way yours fall shut and how your face twists as the pleasure courses through your body. He thinks to himself that it has to be one of the best things that he’s ever been blessed enough to see and he knows that he needs more. He needs to make you feel better than anyone else ever has. 
So that’s what he does. 
His lips connect with every inch of your skin as he languidly thrusts in and out, allowing you to fully cherish every glorious sensation. The feeling of him stretching you out so slowly, filling you up as his hips gently connect with your own. The loving kisses peppered all the way from your temple to the valley of your breasts. The soft yet sinful sounds of him losing himself within you, his hot breath tickling the shell of your ear as he sinks inside yet again and realizes he never wants to pull out. 
You return his gentle touches in kind. Your hands blindly travel along his body, exploring his back, chest, and biceps at a leisurely pace, eager to offer him as many wonderful sensations as he’s lavishing you with until you feel a tightening deep within your belly that inspires you to clutch tight to his back, nails imprinting half moons into his flesh as your legs tighten around his hips. 
Without a word, he knows what you need and he gives it to you. 
He readjusts, propping himself up further to allow himself more leverage, which he uses to his full advantage as he starts drilling into you, steadily increasing his pace with each thrust of his hips. He tosses his head back, letting out a guttural groan and the odd curse word as his movements become more sloppy, but in the best way. 
The both of you become completely tangled up with one another, a mesh of two bodies become one as you move in tandem, trading fervent kisses and wanton moans back and forth until your overcome by pleasure. 
Your hands find the fabric of his comforter, now mussed atop his once neatly made bed, and you hold fast to it as your spine bows. Everything is rigid and all too much for a brief second before euphoria explodes throughout your every nerve ending, sending you into a glorious spiral. You call his name again and again in your bliss, too far gone to find any other words. They’ve lost all meaning. You beckon him closer with each utterance and every maddening pulse of your walls around him. He hardly has time to appreciate your orgasm for all it’s worth before his own hits him like a freight train. 
“F-fuck!” He growls, overwhelmed by the force with which he cums.
He doesn’t even have the sense to think about pulling out, much less the time to do it before he’s pouring every last drop of his seed deep inside your cunt. He hangs his head, enveloping you in his arms as he buries his face in the crook of your neck, smothering it in kisses as he pants and groans through his release. 
Eventually, you both slow to a halt, but you don’t disconnect right away. You exchange more tender touches and gentle nuzzles back and forth, content to maintain your proximity while your blood slowly begins to cool and the thrumming in your chests starts to dissipate, though both of you are pleased to find it never goes away completely. Not like it ever had before when you were around one another, but now that both of you know how the other feels, it’s different. It’s better. 
Everything is better. 
He opens his mouth to speak, to finally breathe life into those three little words that have died on his tongue countless times throughout the years in his cowardice, but the sound of the lock on the front door clicking open has them perishing yet again. 
He freezes, realizing that there’s likely no way out of this now. You’re just as petrified, holding stock still until you hear the door swing open and both of you spring into action. Bakugou clambers off of you to snatch a pair of boxers from his drawer, hopping into them as he swings his bedroom door shut while you scramble beneath the covers to at least protect your modesty. Thankfully, your brother isn’t able to take a peek inside the room. You just hope that he doesn’t recognize your clothing piled beside the coffee table.
“Shit, I guess I should’ve told you I was comin’ home early. Sorry, bro,” Kirishima laughs as his heavy boots can be heard venturing into the living room. “I’m gonna go take a shower. Pretend like I’m not here.”
You breathe a sigh of relief, but it's minimal. You know you have to go and go fast. 
“I’ll get your clothes,” Bakugou says quietly, listening at the door for the click of Kirishima’s. 
You nod and sit up in the bed, waiting for him to return and hand you your outfit before you slip out from beneath the covers to dress. He does the same, stepping into the same sweats and tank top that you’d torn off of him earlier. 
“M’sorry about this,” he mutters, nodding towards the door. 
You shake your head, walking closer to wrap your arms around his middle as you tilt your head back and smile at him. His arms fold around you to pull you snug to his chest. You rest a hand on his cheek and pull him into a kiss that’s as sweet and deliberate as he had been with you and he’s grateful for it. He’d been half afraid that you’d scurry away and pretend as if this hadn’t even happened.
“Don’t be. We’ll figure out how to tell him together, okay? I just don’t want it to be this way.”
“Right. I don’t either. We’ll figure it out,” he repeats, his lips turning up in a smile that softens as he studies your features. “We’re gonna have to, because I love you.”
His admission renders you speechless, your eyes widening as heat creeps up the back of your neck. The pulse of your heart starts thumping in your own ears again, hammering throughout your every blood vessel as you will yourself to snap out of it. 
“I love you too,” you blurt out unceremoniously, though you know you mean those three little words and the smile on his face says that he knows it too. 
“I’m not working tonight. I can come by in a little bit?” He suggests, hopeful that you’ll agree and how could you not?
“I’ll make us dinner,” you confirm, smiling ear to ear as you lean in to kiss him once again.
He tightens his hold on you, finding it more and more difficult to let you go the longer that he has you in his arms, but reluctantly, the two of you soon part and he knows that you have to leave. 
He pokes his head out to ensure that the coast is clear before he guides you out of the room and you hurry out the door, turning to blow a kiss over your shoulder before you head down the hall, giddy as you’ve ever been. 
Bakugou tidies up his room, mulling over an excuse to offer his best friend until he and Kirishima both end up in the kitchen together. 
“Seems like you’ve had a pretty good afternoon, huh?” Eijirou grins and bumps him on the shoulder before he ducks into the fridge for a beer. “Who’s the girl? Anyone I know?”
“Nah, just some girl from the gym. Don’t think you’ve seen her around.”
He feels terrible lying, but he figures it’s for the best, just for the time being. He’ll come clean eventually. No harm, no foul, right?
“Well, good for you, man. It’s good to see you puttin’ yourself out there. I was gettin’ a little worried about you being chronically single,” he jokes, chuckling as he travels into the living room to get comfortable on the couch and flip on the tv. 
“Ha, yeah.” He nods, though he’s unable to even look his friend in the face as he snatches his water bottle and heads for the door. “I’m actually going over to her place for dinner, so I’ll probably be back later, but don’t wait up, okay?”
“Okay. Have fun, man,” Kirishima calls back, smiling genuinely as he waves him out the door. 
That is, until he notices the small charm on the floor in front of him. He leans forward to pick it up and isn’t difficult for him to put two and two together. The clothes he’d spotted earlier had seemed familiar, but he didn’t think much of it. This, he couldn’t dispute. He knows this charm, because he had gifted it to you just last week as an addition to the bracelet that always adorned your wrist. And, as far as he knew, you hadn’t been over to their place since last month, yet here the charm was. 
He doesn’t know what hurts more, that two of his best friends felt like they had to sneak around behind his back or that one of them had just lied to his face about it.
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I know I didn’t have to end it this way. the impulsive thoughts won today and I’m sorry about it ajdhsh but thank you so much for reading!! 💕 take a forehead kiss on your way out *mwah*
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folkloresthings · 28 days
Text
❛ HEAVEN KNOWS ❜ ❨ lando norris x singer!reader ❩
📻 track two: wendy.
in which the they were the perfect couple, until they weren’t. or in which we take a look back into what made heaven itself fall apart.
. . . SEPTEMBER 2023
INSTAGRAM. september twenty—seventh.
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yourusername first song from the good witch! i wrote wendy after a day huddled under my duvet rewatching every adaptation of peter pan that exists. it’s all about falling for lost boys and trying your best to see the best in them even though your heart tells you better. it’s about not making sacrifices even though you want to, learning to put yourself first despite how much love might blind you to do the opposite. what about wendy!
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user STOP these songs are going to tear lando apart i just know it
charlottesiine wendy darling 🤍 lock the windows!!!!
user is lando her lost boy 😭😭😭
REWIND… AUGUST 2022.
for just under three years, heaven was all you knew. lando was a dream, all wrapped up in his love for you and forever devoted to your attentions. maybe the effect of being locked up together for months as the pandemic reigned had given you both a taste of stockholm syndrome and left you with nothing else to focus on. or maybe it was just time.
the beginning of summer break was when you felt the first shift. every other year, lando whisked you away on a holiday to the sunniest place he could find. he wined and dined you, making up for all of the lost time between the racing season and touring. only, this time, he had booked a trip to ibiza with max and his friends.
“what about me?”
“i don’t see them that often either, you know that,” he defended.
it was understandable, you supposed. he liked those kinds of places, you didn’t. so while he partied there, you spent a little extra time in the studio. but then it was a week in spain with carlos, another in croatia with daniel. the compromise came in the form of monaco. you would take some time off, leaving your london flat behind, and come stay with lando in his monte carlo apartment.
you were all excitement, until you realised your time there was scheduled around lando’s meetings and dj sets and boys night out. the desperation to be close to him trumped all else and so you followed him around like a lost puppy, forever blinded by the sweet kisses and doting promises.
“i’ll take you to dinner tomorrow night, just me and you,” lando would murmur in your ear, letting your frustration subside long enough to let him go back to his friends.
it took that whole month in monaco to realise that this is what lando wanted: someone to follow after him and live for the short term magic, only to be let down by the endless maybe’s, trusting that he’ll catch you when you fall. it terrified you, and yet your undying love kept you playing along.
“i have a show in brixton next week,” you told him on your last morning in monaco, shoving the last of your clothes into your case. “it’s low-key, for some of the really devoted fans. i got management to put your name on the list.”
lando zipped up the last of your belongings, soft thumbs caressing your cheeks. “i wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
you grinned happily, uncaring for whatever doubt sank in your stomach when it was just the two of you, his lips soothing on your warm skin. he loved you, truly.
INSTAGRAM. august twenty—first.
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y/nupdates y/n in brixton tonight! 21/8 🤍
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user1 the intimate shows w her are my fav 🥺🥺🥺
user2 mother!
user3 was lando there? i heard she gave him a shoutout
⤷ user2 she sang feels like this and dedicated it to him!
⤷ user4 yeah but it seemed like she was looking out for him in the back when she said it and it didn’t look like he was there ☹️
⤷ user5 ouch 🥲
“are you alright?”
it’s the first thing you ask when he answers the phone, and you know it’s horrible that you hope something bad has happened — but it’s better than the truth that weighs heavy on his lips.
“i’m so sorry love, i meant to call you earlier,” lando groans through your speaker, your dressing room door clicking closed behind you. still in your stage outfit, you await the excuses. “the flight was delayed and then cancelled. i would get the next flight but i’ve got that thing tomorrow evening.”
“oh, i see.” your eyes sting.. “are you back in the apartment now?”
“huh? oh yeah, i just got an uber back from the airport and i’m ordering some food now.”
if you had the energy to scoff and argue you would, for you can hear the distant bouncing of club music on the other end of the phone, most likely muffled by where lando has hidden away in the bathroom.
“that’s nice,” you whisper, picking anxiously at the skin around your nailbed. “well, the show went really well. i think that—”
“babe, you’re breaking up. i’ll call you tomorrow okay?” lando’s voice raises as the bathroom door on his side opens to let the loud music peek in. “i’m sorry again.”
“okay, bye,” you sigh, but the call ends before he can even hear it. sinking into the small sofa of the dressing room, curling into yourself, the tears flow over your perfect makeup — fading the lipstick you’d chosen just for him.
you couldn’t live like this, is what your friends told you when you spent your evening crying on their sofa. but you loved him, and you would follow him to the ends of the earth. you could be married soon, waiting up at night for the sound of the door unlatching. it’s a life you could have and you knew it — even if it wasn’t what you wanted.
INSTAGRAM. august twenty—second.
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yourusername a week in neverland
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user1 boyfriend lando pics!!!
carlossainz55 so great to see you!👸
⤷ yourusername time for you to come to london now!!!!
⤷ carlossainz55 ✈️🏃🏻💨
user2 ofc lando brings her to the track even on summer break 🙄😅
landonorris my wendy darling ❤️
⤷ user3 does this make lando peter pan?
⤷ yourusername 🤍🤍🤍
user4 still sad we didn’t see lando at the london show :(
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writers note: did i promise this new chapter ages ago? yes but just be happy you guys have it now 🫶❤️‍🔥
taglist: @openthenyoor01 @racingheartsworld @celestialend @cha-hot @gr1mes-cc @allywthsr @imsorare @youdontknowmeshh @bellewintersroe @orangetreekid
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devildom-moss · 6 months
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idk how to verbalise this idea properly so bear with me but: mc whose entire logic in life is 'fuck it we ball' including when it comes to romance, so they just completely go along with any attempts at flirting in a sort of "yes, and-" fashion
which probably only encourages said suitor and then mc has the Audacity to be surprised when it gets intense enough for them to realise they're actually being seduced lol
gn mc with just the brothers for now pls!! thank u for your services
Hopefully this request is what you were looking for. Honestly, I had a bit of confusion while writing, but I tried. I went with headcanons because that seemed like the best fit. Thanks for the request.
gn!MC who casually flirts back with the demon brothers headcanons
(and then has the audacity to be surprised that they're being genuinely pursued)
(Suggestive)
Word Count: +2700
Lucifer
Lucifer is an awful flirt, trying so hard to fluster MC and convince them of his dominance. (Where’s it at though? I don’t see it.) His flirting is so suggestive that it’s actually pretty easy to just assume it’s a bit of playful teasing between friends.
For MC, it plays out like those posts that say something and then escalate immediately – something like “Kiss your homies goodnight. Kiss them with tongue. Eat their ass.”
Having an MC who flirts back with him can be a bit embarrassing, and it gets Lucifer’s hopes up so much. (“Could you pour me another cup of coffee, MC?” “Third one this morning, Luci. Not sleeping well?” “I’m afraid not. Perhaps you should come over and help – but then again, we might not get much sleep if you do.” “Aw, Luci, do you want me to fuck you senseless to help you fall asleep?” “If you’re offering, who am I to refuse.”)
He’ll be frustrated that MC keeps flirting with him, but they never follow through.
Lucifer is so horny that it’s absurd. MC could be completely normal, and this man would be thirsting. (“I really don’t want to do this lesson. This chapter is so boring.” “Normally, I wouldn’t use positive reinforcement, but if you complete your work, I’ll reward you.” “What kind of reward?” “Come to my room tonight and find out.”)
Poor MC doesn’t realize they’re being seduced until Lucifer has dragged them into his bed.
“Sleep with me.” “I’m not really tired, Lucifer.” “Good. Then you’ll have plenty of energy to make out and maybe even fuck me – if you want.” His touch would be so intimate – rubbing their inner thigh or groping their ass. “IF I WHAT?!?”
Lucifer would turn pink up to his ears. Part of him thinks MC is just teasing him again, but he would quickly realize that they’re being genuine. He’d feel absolutely humiliated. Did they not want him at all? Did all of that flirting mean nothing?
Before he could die from the shame, Lucifer would manage to blurt out, “Do you want me or not?” He wants some honest commitment in return for his affection, and if MC won’t bring that, that’s unacceptable. Of course, there is some thrill in a chase, but in that moment, Lucifer won’t have it in him. It would be a battle to fight some other day.
If MC tells him no or gives a half-hearted response, he will ask them to leave his room with one hand covering his blushing face. He wouldn’t even be able to look at them as he closed the door – and he’d probably avoid them for a day or two. (Also, he might cry a little after the door is locked).
If MC insists that they do want him, he’ll be especially needy while also acting all sadistic – attempting to tease them to distract from his own embarrassment. This poor loser will require so many kisses to reinflate his ego.
Mammon
To be fair, Mammon would bring this upon himself. He loves to act like he’s uninterested – constantly interrupting his fawning and puppy-like following of MC to save himself from the absolute humiliation of being *gasp* honest about his feelings.
I can see Mammon regularly initiating flirting, but this man can’t follow through to save his own life (maybe to save the life of someone else, though). An MC who reciprocates his flirting would leave him a blushing, flustered mess. Most of the time, his embarrassment cuts the interaction short.
“Ya just can’t get enough of the Great Mammon, can ya?” “Of course not, you handsome devil~” “I- uh! Hmph! Damn right!” he’d say it, crossing his arms and avoiding eye contact while the blush rises in his cheeks. How is MC supposed to respond?
If they tease him further and flirt more, he’ll just yell and tell them to knock it off. If they just shrug it off and move on, Mammon will be too flustered to make another move on them that day. The flirtatious spark just kind of fizzles out like a defective firecracker.
It takes a lot of boldness on Mammon’s end to get MC to realize he’s being serious. And honestly, Mammon is so adorable, MC may have the opportunity to take the initiative and push things a little further first. (You want to tell me most MCs could just flirt with Mammon, reducing him to a blushing, aggressive mess, and go back to watching that movie or playing that video game upon Mammon’s belligerent demand, and not want to kiss his face? Okay, sure.)
But let’s ignore that thought and say MC follows Mammon’s flirting in the “yes, and” fashion. After Mammon continuously sabotages his own chances, eventually, he’s going to get so frustrated that he will smother his own shyness long enough to get what he wants.
He’ll get MC alone and string together some make-shift confession – a plea for more. “Ya know, if ya wanna kiss the Great Mammon or somethin’, I’m not gonna stop ya – like, I mean, I want a little more outta ya. So, don’t hold back just cause ya think I don’t want to or nothin’.” (translation: Please kiss me. I know I act like I don’t want you, but I really, really want you to kiss me. Please, please, please.)
His face will burn, and a blush will work its way up to his ears. It’ll be hard to deny the intensity of his feelings, and it will weigh down on MC – a truth previously held in a bag on their back, tethered to dozens of helium balloons that disguised its weight, and then suddenly found every string cut loose by Mammon’s admission. He really loved them. For his confession, all Mammon would get was a stunned but heartfelt “oh.”
He gets so upset and embarrassed that MC didn’t realize he was being serious before. He went on a rollercoaster of emotions; meanwhile, this whole time, they hadn’t even taken his advances in earnest. It’s practically offensive.
The only remedy for Mammon’s bruised dignity is for MC to immediately hold and kiss him until he’s temporarily satisfied. (“Ya owe me big time for not takin’ me seriously.”)
Leviathan
I mean, he kind of has to flirt before MC can flirt back – unless we’re going to count accidentally blurting out his innermost perverted desires as flirting. Sure, I suppose it’s basically flirting to tell someone “It’s sexy when you tell me what to do. I can’t stop imagining you doing that in other settings.”
He’s so bad at flirting that nothing will happen for a long time after he realizes he’s head over heels. Levi is fine spending the rest of his (or at least MC’s) life pining for them – or at least he believes that. But the longing and desire will start to creep in, and he’ll wonder how much he can ask from MC. Friends can hold hands and maybe even cuddle, right? Maybe even kiss? Could they even –?
The thoughts eat away at him until he can’t wait for MC to make the move anymore. It slips out of him like some mating request written by Dr. Suess: “Would you –? Could you –? With an otaku? A gross, disgusting one, too?”
Levi is so visibly flustered that he doesn’t leave much room for ignorance. Even the most extreme masochist wouldn’t subject themselves to the furiously blushing, trembling state that Leviathan had worked himself into. He’d be on the brink of tears. All his hope in the world would be precariously perched on a ledge, awaiting your response.
I can’t see MC not knowing that Levi was attempting to seduce them, but perhaps the timing of it came as a surprise. Or perhaps they had never taken his affection seriously. He has so many favorites that he can’t pursue; just because he has a massive crush on MC doesn’t mean he had plans to act on it.
He will get even more embarrassed and down on himself to know that MC didn’t take him seriously at first. He understands, but that doesn’t make it any less hurtful.
He will require physical reassurance – as much of it as MC is willing to give him. And honestly, if MC doesn’t end up kissing him until he forgets how to think after his confession, he’ll probably hide in his room for a few weeks purely out of shame.
Satan
With an MC like this, the back-and-forth flirting goes on for an inordinate amount of time. Satan is not a flirt by any definition, but when there’s someone he likes, he knows how to turn on the charm. He’s smart, passionate, and mentally quick on his feet; he’s a natural charmer for the right audience.
Satan moves pretty slow when romance is concerned. If Levi wasn’t such a hopeless cause (affectionately), Satan would probably be the slowest to escalate a romantic relationship. He and MC will have a dozen dates under their belts before the desire for more had become an unbearable burden for Satan to silently ignore.
Eventually, Satan would find himself reading in his room with MC, unable to hold back anymore. He would ask, “Would you mind if I kissed you?” “No, I don’t mind if you want to.” “Could I kiss you now?” “Eh, sure.”
Everything up to that point could have been misread as platonic or some casual interest – maybe even curiosity on his end.
But he was serious, and it was evident in the way he approached MC to collect that kiss. He would straddle their hips, set their book aside (face down to mark the page like a real gentleman), and lean down for the kiss. Then, his lips would move against theirs, and the smallest sigh would escape him like a quiet release of sexual tension that had pressurized his entire body. Then, it would all click for MC.
Surprisingly, he wouldn’t be upset or humiliated if MC hadn’t taken him seriously before. In fact, he sees it as more of a personal failing, and in a low, seductive voice, he would tell them, “Allow me to prove how genuine and deep my feelings are for you.”
Asmodeus
He flirts with everyone, so how was MC supposed to know??
He asks them on dates so often. He’s probably the only one who could make out with MC and they’d still think, “yeah, we’re besties” because when Asmo pulls away with a giggle and a grin, telling them how much fun that was, it doesn’t feel serious.
It would take a moment of angst – either Asmo feeling like MC doesn’t take his advances seriously enough (and they don’t) or MC getting down on themselves – for them to realize.
Asmo would pull them into his room and leave small kisses all over them, peppering in compliments. “You’re so gorgeous, and I adore looking at your face.” Then, he would kiss their cheek. “You’re such a sweetheart.” Then, the other cheek. “I always have so much fun when I’m with you. I don’t ever want you to leave my side.” He would kiss their forehead. “I want you to feel confident; you’re such a wonderful soul.” (He would probably add more compliments if MC was feeling self-conscious.)
His words would get sweeter and more honest. “I feel seen in your eyes – like every part of me is accepted. I don’t have to play it up or try.” He would work his way down their neck with soft pecks to their skin. “I want to share everything beautiful in this world with you.” In part to avoid meeting their gaze. “I want to make you smile with everything I have.” And in part so he could whisper the words into their ear. “I want to help you whenever you need me. I’ll sit right next to you through any pain and hardships you encounter.” No one else had earned the right to hear his praise and affection. “I want to be a comfort for you – someone you can return to like a home.”
Finally, he would face them with a striking affection. “You know I’m in love with you, right? It’s not just lust and fun. You’re everything. You matter the most – after me, of course. It’s me and you and everything else.”
Asmo seduces everyone. That isn’t shocking. But this was more than seduction. It was genuine courtship. He won’t fault MC for being surprised. It caught him off guard too.
Beelzebub
Beel is not super flirty, but he makes it known that he cares through his actions. So, there aren’t many opportunities for MC to “yes, and” flirt back with him.
He asks them out to get food often and brings them snacks, but that doesn’t signal any romantic intentions. Sometimes he might stare at MC affectionately or admit how happy he is to spend time with them, but it’s nowhere near intense.
Sometimes, he asks for something more selfish. It starts small: petting his head, holding his hand, hugging him. None of those register as seduction from Beel for MC, especially compared to the affectionate nature of his twin. In fact, no one would fault MC for thinking these were platonic wants. After all, Beel has been through a lot. Sometimes this sweet, big baby boy just needs physical affection.
Then, he would get a bit bolder with his requests: “Could you feed me?” “Can I feed you?” “Would you hold me?”
As innocent and platonic as Beel may seem, he makes a lot of off-hand remarks that sound a bit perverted. “I bet MC’s lips would taste good.” “I wonder what you taste like.” “MC has nice hands. I bet they would feel good…” These comments could open the door for some flirting from MC, though. “Wanna taste me, Beel?” “Should I give you a massage? Or maybe something more?”
MC flirting with him would make his heart race. Even if MC didn’t follow through with their flirtatious offer, it would encourage Beel to keep pushing his luck.
Finally, he would ask, “Can I kiss you?”
Beel would look so shy and embarrassed, holding his hands awkwardly to his chest, that it would be hard not to take him seriously. The question – and his desire – would be a slight shock. Beel wouldn’t mind that MC was surprised, although he would be disappointed if he was turned down.
If MC takes him up on that offer, they will come to realize that his ravenous hunger showed itself through a kiss, too – as if he had been starving for MC’s touch and affection.
Belphegor
He’s so affectionate and cuddly. In that way, he’s similar to Asmo; it’s pretty hard to tell how serious and intense Belphie’s feelings are. He’s just kind of like that.
It’s common for Belphie to ask to be spoiled with affection – head pats, feeding him, hugging him, sleeping together, going out with him, praising him, holding his hand, being his pillow, etc.
His need for attention doesn’t cover up for how flushed his face gets when MC is the one to give him affection. His neediness doesn’t explain how much he clings to MC or how he blushes and tells them not to stop touching him.
So, actually, he’s less flirty than he is demanding of attention. Going along with his demands only encourages him to vocalize and act on more of his desires. He’d even ask permission to kiss them and to be kissed.
MC probably wouldn’t figure it out until Belphie starts sleepily trying to make out with them.
“Belphie, are you half-asleep?” “What? No. I’m awake. Why?” “That was a really heated kiss.” “Of course it was. Can we keep going?” “I’m sorry, what?”
“Don’t you like me back? We sleep together, go on dates, cuddle, and you even let me kiss your face and neck whenever I please. Don’t you want to go further?”
It hits them. Belphie can read the look of surprise on MC’s face, and it makes him pout. MC really should have known how he felt by then, but he’s confident that his affection is reciprocated before MC even responds.
“Sheesh. You’re really difficult, you know? I’ve had to do a lot of the work here because you’re so dense.” Belphie would straddle MC’s lap and take off his shirt. “I’ll let it go this time, but you better start putting in more effort from now on.”
A/N: Only about 1 hour left to vote in the poll. And we just got to 100 so y'all are getting 2 posts this month. Genuinely, I typed this a/n up, talking about only needing one more vote, checked it again, and the one vote is no longer needed. Good job, y'all. I swear if there are ties...
467 notes · View notes
marlenesluv · 6 months
Text
Rule Breaker (CS)
summary: charles has one rule for you, don’t date his teammate. he doesn’t want his little sister infringing, but both you and carlos can’t help falling for each other. so what harm does a little soft launch do? well, a failed soft launch. (side note: carlos watches game of thrones and i love game of thrones, so there’s some content like that in here as well.)
type: smau + dialogue
pairing: carlos sainz x leclerc!fem!reader (7 yr age gap. reader is 22, carlos is 29.)
warnings: cussing
fc: anaïs (_ssiana on insta)
masterlist here -> masterlist link
^ check my list for all posts! ^
Being the youngest Leclerc sibling came with its benefits. Like being able to watch your brothers race, meeting lovely fans, having your own amazing fans, and getting to travel across the world. Opportunities were endless for you. Magazines wanted photo shoots, people wanted interviews, you were lucky really.
The only con? Having to look at Carlos Sainz Jr. every day, and not be able to do anything about your crush.
When Carlos joined Charles in Ferrari in 2021, Charles made a point to forbid you from dating him, just like Arthur did with his friends. Which you figured was fine, until you met Carlos.
He was such a gentleman, pulling your chair out for you, getting you a drink when you wanted one, making sure you were comfortable in the paddock, and making sure your headphones felt good before races.
Carlos experienced something very similar. Charles took him aside an hour before he was to meet you, and told him that you were off limits. He didn’t want a relationship with his younger sister to ruin such a good team, god forbid the relationship be messy and end horribly.
But lucky for you and Carlos, your relationship was perfect. No one knew, and you intended to keep it that way. That was until you were spotted together at dinner after his win in Singapore. People couldn’t fathom what was going on. The ‘young, innocent, law degree leclerc’ dating Carlos Sainz? Her brothers teammate??
Arthur had his suspicions. The way that you were on your phone at family dinners, smiling and blushing, was enough of a sign for him. Charles, oblivious as always, had no idea. And Arthur wasn’t a snitch, you got yourself in this, you could deal with Charles on your own.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
After about three months of privately dating, that article came out. So, you both decided to soft launch your relationship. Surely Charles couldn’t be all that mad. Carlos knew from the first time he met you, that he wanted to spend his life with you. Cliché? Sure. But your demeanor, sarcasm, kindness, and the way you held yourself was enough to make him want to drop to his knees.
“Do you think I should post this?” you asked Carlos, showing him a picture of the two of you, but not noticeably him.
“Yeah, you can’t even tell it’s me.” Carlos looked at you, head on his chest so he could see your phone.
Post-sex cuddles were very important, you even said ‘I need them to survive. Don’t laugh at me!’ They were intimate, yet sweet and calming.
“Okay. I’m gonna post it with these other two…” you typed a caption and posted it, groaning in Carlos’ sheets as he laughed, running his fingers through your hair.
“It’ll be okay, amor.” he kissed your temple, both of you falling back to your cuddles as you drifted to sleep as your post got attention.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
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liked by: charles_leclerc, carla.brocker, and 576,024 others
y/n_leclerc: nom nom
view comments…
charles_leclerc: who is that in the second photo, y/n?
↳ y/n_leclerc: what second photo?
↳ charles_leclerc: don’t gaslight me
f1updates: she slays, again, as always
lilymhe: prettiest girl ever
↳ y/n_leclerc: that’s you tho??
user6: who tfffff is that man?!?!
y/n.fan624: is that like…her new bf? you mean to tell me….i don’t have a chance anymore???
↳ y/nseditfan7; i don’t think any of us ever had a chance :/
cs55edits: that looks like the sainz vacation home, no?
↳ user2: oh my gosh.
yourbsf: pizza looks so good (so do you)
↳ y/n_leclerc: it was so good (thx, you always look good)
user7: you guys smell that? its a soft launch
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
Soft launching was a good idea, in theory. You both thought it was the perfect way to announce your relationship, but not with Charles calling you every ten minutes and blowing up your messages to find out who the guy was in your photo on Instagram.
You sighed as your phone started ringing for the eighth time during this Game of Thrones episode. You and Carlos sat by each other, watching your show. Game of Thrones time, was your guys’ time to disconnect, not be on your phones, and enjoy the show and each other. Not a time to deal with a protective older brother.
Looking down at your phone, you saw the picture of you and Charles as he called again, “I should probably just answer. He’s not gonna stop until I answer.” Carlos got up, gave you a kiss and started walking to the kitchen, “Answer him, hermosa. I’ll go get more wine.” As Carlos went to the kitchen, your thumb hit the ‘accept’ button and you put your phone up to your ear.
“Pourquoi ne m'as-tu pas répondu ? Je pensais que tu étais mort ou quelque chose comme ça ! Qu'est-ce que c'est, y/n ?!”(why have you not been answering me? i thought you died or something! what the hell, y/n?!) Charles was shouting through the phone, you could tell he was worried and pissed at the same time.
“Je suis désolé, Charles. J'étais occupé. What’s up?” (i’m sorry, charles. i was busy.)
Charles sighed on the other side of the phone as he sat down at his barstool in his kitchen, “Please, just tell me who this guy is. I wont get mad, I swear. I don’t even care who it is, I just want to make sure he’s a good guy.”
Carlos made eye contact with you as he sat down beside you, whispering “If you want to tell him, you can, amor.” You nodded, taking a deep breath, “Carlos.” You said. One word. One name that brought fear through Charles. Carlos?! His teammate.
“What do you mean ‘Carlos’?” Charles asked, his voice suddenly too calm. “Carlos….I’m dating Carlos.” you stared at Carlos as he went wide eyed, Charles silent on the other line.
“Charles? Are you there?” you heard shuffling, Carlos handing you your wine as Charles cleared his throat.
“Okay. Um…alright. I gotta go, Y/N. Love you.” Charles hung up, leaving you staring at the glass in your hands.
“What happened? Are you okay?” Carlos asked you, brushing a strand of your hair behind your ear, “He didn’t really say anything when I told him. Just ‘Okay, alright, I gotta go, Love you.’ and then hung up.”
Carlos sucked his lips in, placing his hand on your neck, making you lean into his touch. You fell back into his sofa, clinging to his side, Carlos turning Game of Thrones back on and pulling the blanket over you two.
He wasn’t sure what it would take to convince Charles that this wasn’t a fling. But he would try everything.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
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liked by: y/n_leclerc, landonorris, and 834,231 others
carlossainz55: I’m not very good at soft launches, anyway
view comments…
y/n_leclerc: no, no you are not, mon amour
↳ carlossainz55: oops 💗
chili55: y/n: “let’s soft launch!” carlos: “how about no.”
y/neditsss551: WOAAHHHHHH
landonorris: mom and dad
↳ y/n_leclerc: landoooo
char16car55: where’s charles😭
↳ f1fan: look around everybody on mute 🤫🤐
carlando554fp: my fav leclerc😪 she’s so prettyyyy
user4: AWOOGA I LOVE THE LECLERCS
arthur_leclerc: nice to see my suspicions have been confirmed
↳ charles_leclerc: you had suspicions?
↳ lorenzotl: um..what’s going on
user8: leclerc brothers protective and confused mode LOL
f1wags: ooooo new wag, yet one we already know we all love and adore
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
After Carlos’ post, you freaked out. Of course, he asked you first, and double checked, and triple checked. You wanted everyone to know that you guys were dating. The only worry was ‘what would Charles do/think’?
Both of you had talked to Charles since the call a few days ago. Charles asked Carlos when he wanted to train again, and Charles checked on you everyday.
Arthur didn’t care. He was worried, at first. He thought maybe Carlos wouldn’t treat you like a princess, like you deserved to be treated. Carla told Arthur that you couldn’t have a better boyfriend.
When Carlos posted, Carla called you immediately, asking for details. Like when you started dating, the first date, did Charles know? And you trusted Carla with your life. The girl knew how to listen, too.
Lorenzo wasn’t too bothered. He knew Carlos, knew he was a good guy, and accepted it fairly fast. He also wanted you to be treated well, it’s what you deserved.
Charles wanted the same thing. He looked out for you the most. The guys you dated had to pass a test in Charles’ books. They needed to be kind, funny, honest, loyal, a gentleman, a family guy, good goals, and they needed to love you. And Charles ticked all of those off when he saw that post. He knew Carlos more than a lot of people.
Carlos was kind, loyal, and honest. He never lied to Charles, never broke a promise, and was kind to everyone. The man was also quite funny. He knew he could be a gentleman, he saw him with his last girlfriend three years ago. Carlos was a huge family guy, and had good goals. And obviously, he loved you. Charles decided he had no reason to be mad. You two were in love, and he needed to accept that.
When you called him, you were nervous. Carlos had went out for his morning run, which you usually joined him on. But you wanted to talk to Charles. It only rang three times before he picked up.
“Hello?” your brother groggy voice came through your phone speaker, which was sat on the counter as you made coffee.
“Hey. Can you talk for a minute?” stirring your coffee, you picked up your phone to hold in one hand.
“Yeah. What’s up?”
“Are you mad at me? For dating Carlos? Because we aren’t breaking up if you are. You’re just going to have to deal with it! Charles, I love him more than anyone-“ Charles cut off your rambling.
“Y/N, stop. I’m not mad. Its okay.” he sat up in his bed, looking at the time- 5am? You called him at 5am? “Wait, it’s 5am. Why are you even up??”
“Oh, Carlos and I have been getting up every morning at 4:30am to run and workout together.” you took a sip of your coffee, “I skipped today to call you, through.”
“Wow. He’s already rubbing off his good habits.” Charles smiled, happy that you were happy.
“Yeah…you’re okay with this, though?” you asked, setting your cup down.
“Of course. I’m sorry about the other day. I was just startled.” he apologized, he really did feel bad. He didn’t intend to be rude and freak you out.
“It’s okay. Thank you for being okay with this. I’ll let you go back to sleep.”
“Great, I need my eight hours. Night, Y/N,” Charles yawned, making you laugh a bit. “Night? Love you.” Charles muttered an ‘I love you’ back and hung up.
No need to worry about that anymore, you thought. Carlos walking in the front door, and by your smile, he didn’t even need to ask. Charles obviously didn’t mind.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
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liked by: carlossainz55, charles_leclerc, and 593,204 others
y/n_leclerc: my game of thrones watching buddy <3
view comments…
carlossainz55: hold the door
↳ y/n_leclerc: hodor :(
user3: oooo its official guys, the carlos bf content is here
charles_leclerc: didnt need to see this
↳ arthur_leclerc: did any of us?
↳ lorenzotl: no.
↳ y/n_leclerc: you guys are soo dramatic. shut up
lilymhe: awww you guys are adorableee
↳ y/n_leclerc: me when i see you and alex
f1wags: carlos is boyfriending so hard
landonorris: WHIPPED
↳ carlossainz55: have you seen her? had a conversation with her? of course i’m whipped
↳ y/n_leclerc: 🥹🫠
ferraribabe: the way he’s so sweet stopppp
yourbsf: holy shitttt, you guys are THE couple
*liked by creator*
user8: wowowowow too cute
formula1updates: new favorite couple - unlocked
user1: a couple that watches game of thrones together, stays together
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
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liked by: carlossainz55, danielricciardo, and 601,138 others
y/n_leclerc: muy guapo, papi🖤🤍
view comments…
user3: PAPI???? Y/N PLS
carlossainz55: she’ll never know guys, shhhhh
↳ charles_leclerc: but i do
↳ carlossainz55: it was a joke…
↳ charles_leclerc: i’m pushing you off the track this weekend.
f1wags: they way they look at each other🥹 (THE CAPTION????)
user5: oh…ok!
arthur_leclerc: cant wait to hit a spaniard this weekend
↳ carlossainz55: dios mío. cállate
↳ lorenzotl: we know spanish, carlos
↳ y/n_leclerc: i hate my family sometimes (not mom tho)
↳ leclerc_pascale: ❤️
leclercsfp16: my fav family
y/n.editingggg: adorbssss but girl the caption??
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
your instagram story:
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seen by: carlossainz55, francisca.cgomes, and 578,014 others
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seen by: carlossainz55, lorenzotl, and 532,103 others
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
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liked by: y/n_leclerc, maxverstappen1, and 1,238,014 others
carlossainz55: “you are the moon of my life” ❤️
view comments…
y/n_leclerc: did you j khal drogo quote drop
↳ carlossainz55: i thought it would be cute :(
↳ y/n_leclerc: it was so cute <3
↳ carlossainz55: :))
f1ygotedits: my two favs: carlos and got 😋
user5: the way they make me want to sob bec they’re so cute
verstoppan1fp: their pics >
vroom34: my fav game of thrones lovers
thenightwatch99: the way he khal drogo quoted
user3: mama y papa 😪👏
f1editpage: can’t wait to see her with carlos merch
↳ char16pg: charles is gonna be mad lollll
formula1page33: they’re soo cute🥹🥹🥹🥹
charles_leclerc: cant believe im the only single sibling now
↳ arthur_leclerc: i can
↳ charles_leclerc: 😦
user8: awwww the cutest shut upppp
y/nandcarlosfp55: ARG SO CUTE
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
your instagram story:
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seen by: carlossainz55, landonorris, and 548,024 others
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
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liked by: y/n_leclerc, georgerussell63, and 929,820 others
carlossainz55: i took an amazing, photographer photo of her, and she took this monstrosity one of me??
view comments…
y/n_leclerc: no, amor. you look so handsome
↳ pierregasly: why are you lying to him?
↳ carlossainz55: you are a dick, pierre
↳ pierregasly: 🫨good one
user3: LOL I LOVE THIS
f1wags: our fav wag photographer!!
formula1wc: carlos is turning his instagram in to a y/n fan account
chilipepper55: michael phelps WHO⁉️we only know our olympic swimmer carlos the mermaid sainz!!!
carmenmmundt: y/n looks so elegant
↳ carlossainz55: and me?
↳ carmenmmundt: 😬
landonorris: bro rly said 🧜‍♂️😟
user1: merm-couple
f1memes: the third pic is so cute. HELLO?!
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
(reposts, comments, and likes are appreciated!^-^)
1K notes · View notes
simplysturn · 3 months
Text
Bestfriend’s Brother ❤️‍🔥
Reader x Chris Sturniolo
warnings: dom ! chris, ass obsessed ! chris, spanking, biting, slight praise and degradation, smut, unprotected p in v etc.
mdni, this one isn’t for you.
an idea of how i imagine chris in this fic:
(https://x.com/heliishporn/status/1732947337343885638?s=46)
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・❥・* ˚ ✦
“Thanks for the ride home girl, come inside and chill for a bit? Don’t want you driving home tired,” Nick offers.
It was around midnight, and I had picked up my bestfriend Nick and his brother Chris from a friends party. During the drive back to their place, I had felt Chris’s left hand sneak around the side of my drivers seat, softly stroking my arm while leaning himself forward against the back of my headrest, playing off tiredness to seem less suspicious. The touches were so subtle, I could tell he was being careful not to let Nick see what he was doing.
“No don’t thank me it’s so fine. You sure it’s not too late for me to come in?”
“Come in. We’ll put a movie on,” Chris basically demands.
He squeezes my arm and gives me locked eye contact. At this point, I’m wondering why Chris is touching me and where this is coming from. I mean, Chris has been a great friend to me since I moved to LA, but we’ve never really been physically affectionate before apart from a hug hello and goodbye. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t find Chris attractive. Maybe I’d developed a harmless little crush. It was hard not to. I’d suppressed it and kept it to myself though, for the sake of my friendship with Nick.
I hop out of my car and follow them both inside.
・❥・* ˚ ✦
The three of us are on the couch with a movie playing in the background while we all scroll on our phones. I’m on one end of the couch while Chris is at the opposite, and Nick is in the middle. Nick leans over occasionally to show me some funny TikToks and we laugh at them together.
Eventually, Nick gets up from his spot and announces that he’s going to the bathroom and that he’ll be right back. I check the time on my phone, it’s almost 2am. “Fuck,” I mutter to myself, pressing my hand against my forehead, frustrated that I’ve lost track of time. I’m way too tired to drive home now and my phone is about to die.
“You good?,” I hear Chris question me from the opposite end of the couch.
“Oh yeah, sorry. I think I’m too tired to drive home and my phones about to die. I’ll ask Nick if I can still stay with him tonight.”
Chris shuffles over to my end of the couch, moving closer to me. My heart starts racing. What is he doing? He looks me in my left eye, then glances down at my lips, and back to my right eye. “Tell Nick…,” his hand reaches up and he uses his thumb to stroke my cheek, “you’ll sleep on the couch because you have to leave early and you don’t want to wake him.” He brings his face closer to mine, silently indicating he’s about to kiss me, seeking permission with his eyes. I respond by pressing my lips into his. My hand reaches up to his jaw to pull him in a little. The kiss is gentle and intimate. We both pull back and I look up at him. He swipes his thumb over my bottom lip and his magnetic blue eyes stare into my soul. God, he’s so pretty.
We hear footsteps coming back down the staircase and quickly snap out of our little bubble. Chris swiftly returns to his original spot, and I sink back down into the couch, pick up my phone, and start mindlessly scrolling, attempting not to seem suspicious when Nick returns.
“You gonna sleep over? It’s pretty late,” Nick asks.
“If that’s all good, yeah, I think I will,” I reply.
Chris shoots me a look and flashes his eyebrows toward Nick, prompting me to tell him what Chris had instructed me to say.
“Oh, and um, I think I’ll sleep on the couch because I have to leave early in the morning. I don’t wanna wake you up when I’m leaving.”
“You sure? I don’t mind. You probably won’t wake me anyway,” he half laughs.
With Chris still glaring at me, I double down.
“I promise I’ll be fine out here,” I smile at Nick.
As the three of us start tidying up the living room a little before we all head to bed, I feel my phone buzz. It’s a Snapchat notification from Chris. As I unlock my phone to open the photo, I realise my phone is on 5% battery. I really need a charger.
I open the snap. It’s a photo of Chris’s face and it says ‘Act normal but once me and Nick go to bed come sneak in my room ?’
・❥・* ˚ ✦
About five minutes ago, Nick and Chris both said goodnight and went to their rooms. I’m laying on the couch, and my phone died before I got a chance to reply to Chris’s snap. Do I do it? Do I go and sneak into my bestfriend’s brother’s room after we just kissed behind his back? I’m trying hard to ignore the growing heat between my legs after that kiss and failing. “Fuck it,” I think to myself. I get up from the couch and quietly start tiptoeing my way downstairs to Chris’s room. I reach his bedroom door which was left slightly cracked open. He knew I’d come. I push the door open a little more. “Chris?”
I can tell he’d just showered, towel on the bed, and his hair a little damp. He’s shirtless, pulling up a fresh pair of boxers. I can’t help but look him up and down. He catches me looking and giggles to himself.
“Like what you see?” he asks me, still giggling a little. I feel a sudden rush of heat to my cheeks. “I’m sorry for staring I-,” he walks over to me and slides his hands around my waist, causing me to lose my train of thought, and I stop speaking mid-sentence. It starts slow, his hands trail up my body as his lips connect with my neck. Naturally, my head tilts to the side, leaning into his lips and I wrap my hands around his neck. Before I can even think about what’s happening, our lips crash into each other and Chris’s strong hands are now exploring all of me. He slips them up underneath my sweatshirt, moving smoothly over my breasts before sliding them down my back and squeezing my ass.
“I’ve wanted this for so long,” Chris admits. “Jump,” he demands. I comply, wrapping my legs around him. I feel his hands grip my ass as he holds me against him, kissing me. He walks us over toward the bed and throws me down, crawling until he’s hovering over me. “You gonna be good for me?” he asks. I respond a soft “Mhm.” He smiles at my reply and leans down, leaving wet kisses from my earlobe to my neck, and then makes his way down further. I let myself melt underneath him, allowing him to take control. He undresses me, removing my sweatshirt and trackpants until I’m left only in my mismatched bralet and panties. I wasn’t exactly planning on having anyone see underneath my clothes tonight.
Next minute, Chris is kissing my pussy over my panties, then uses his index finger to pull them aside. Guiding his mouth to follow, connecting with my bare pussy, he starts to suck on my sensitive clit. Small moans start to leave me involuntarily. His mouth feels fucking amazing. He moans too, the vibrations giving me even more pleasure. “Feel good, baby? My mouth making you feel good?” He asks me and quickly returns his mouth to my clit. I reply with more moans and by grinding myself further into his mouth, needing more. He easily tears my panties fully off and his arms are around my waist, pulling my needy hips into his mouth. “Chris, I’m close. I-I’m gonna cum,” my hand instinctively grabs onto his hair as I feel myself about to finish. “Yeah, gonna cum for me?” He moans into my pussy, and slips a finger inside of me, fingering me fast. “Oh Chris, fuck. Fuck! I’m cumming!” As I reach my climax, his hand reaches up to cover my mouth in an attempt to muffle my loud moans. “Shh, baby,” he laughs, “did so well for me.” He brings his finger up to my mouth and makes me taste myself.
The way he looks on top of me right now after making me cum on his tongue, fuck, I need to feel him inside of me right now. I grab his hips and pull him into my torso, wrapping my legs around him. “Oh, you want more?” He asks, laughing again. I laugh in response and kiss him slowly. We drag out the kiss while we both take off his boxers and he removes my bralet. I can feel his hard cock pressing against me. “Mhm, baby,” he moans as I place my hand around him and start to stroke him. He aligns the head of his penis with my wet slit and starts gliding himself up and down, preparing me to take him. He slowly starts to push in past my opening, easing himself in, keeping eye contact with me the whole time. He bottoms out and we both let out a sigh of pleasure at the feeling. He starts thrusting slowly at first, letting me adjust to his thickness. “Fuck me, Chris,” I moan and he starts picking up his pace. I look down to watch the sex that’s happening between us while covering my own mouth, trying so fucking hard to keep my moans quiet. Chris sees me looking down and smirks before he grabs my hand and rips it off my mouth. Slowing down his pace, he half-whispers into my ear, “I change my mind. I want them to hear how good I’m making you feel,” and without warning, he fucks into me. Hard. I cry out and my eyes roll into the back of my hard. My nails are clawing at his back and my hips are gyrating, desperately trying to fuck myself deeper onto him, needing to feel all of his cock with every thrust.
Without warning, he grabs me by my hips and effortlessly flips me over in one smooth motion, smacking my ass as he pins me down onto my stomach. “Such a pretty ass, baby,” he smacks my asscheek once again. He wraps his left arm around my neck, dragging his thumb down my bottom lip as he slowly enters me from behind. Gradually finding his pace, his thrusts quicken as he slams into me over and over, and I submit to it. I can’t form a single thought, all I can focus on is how good Chris feels inside of me. He gives me three rapid smacks on my ass once again and then squeezes my asscheek. He grunts. “Oh, shit,” I moan under my breath and Chris responds “You like it when I smack your ass baby?” All I can muster up is a moan, “Mhm.” “Use your words for me, mama,” “Feels so good baby, don’t fucking stop, please, please,” I practically beg him. He puts a hand under my stomach and lifts me, “On your knees, baby,” staying inside of me the whole time. “Wanna see you touch your clit for me while I fuck you,” he talks into my ear, “can you do that for me?” He guides my hand in between my legs and makes me play with myself. “That’s it, baby. Need to feel you cum around my cock so fucking bad.”
Chris and I are both approaching our high. His pants and groans are getting louder and I can feel my pussy start to squeeze around his dick. He leans his head down next to my ear, “You gonna be a slut for me? Take my cum in your tight little pussy, hm?” “Oh, fuck yes, give it to me,” “Yeah, you want it baby?” He smacks my ass again, and I practically scream the house down as I climax, “Oh my god, I’m cumming, fuck! Cum inside of me, baby.” I ride out my high, bucking my hips, repeating out loud for Chris to release in me, begging for it. He grabs a fistful of my hair and I feel my cunt pulse around his thick penis, milking him. “God, your pussy is so fucking good. So fucking wet for me,” he moans through gritted teeth. I let out a small shriek of shock and pleasure when he softly bites into my shoulder. Over and over, he grunts and slams into me and pauses for a moment, and then roughly slams into me again as he lets himself pour into me. “Fuck,” he draws out the word and then places a wet, open-mouthed kiss, almost a lick, on my neck.
・❥・* ˚ ✦
He lets out a sigh of satisfaction and carefully pulls out of me, quickly grabbing and offering me the towel that was still on the bed from his shower. “Hold on,” he gets up, and I wait. He grabs a fresh towel for me and swaps me for the other. “Here. A fresh one so you can take a shower if you want.” “Thank you.” I get up and walk into Chris’s bathroom to take a shower. He follows me in. “Mind if I join you?,” he asks me, confidently standing infront of me butt naked. It was clear that Chris had no shame about his nakedness. I nod and he steps into the shower with me. His hands find my waist, snaking them around me. I smile to myself, loving his hands on me, but I try to ignore him so I can get clean. He rests his head on my shoulder and whines, annoyed that he doesn’t have my undivided attention. I laugh and turn around to face him. I take his face in my hands. “I need to get clean, Christopher.” “Mm,” he whines again, “just want you close to me. You’re gonna sleep in here, right?” I nod, and he smiles, planting a kiss on my lips. “Also, I’ll need to get a Plan B in the morning.” “Mhm, I’ll come with you and pay for it, baby.”
Chris exits the shower before me, dries off and pulls his boxers on. He puts an oversized shirt of his on the bathroom counter for me to wear to bed. Once I dry off and make my way into the bedroom, I see that Chris has set up my side of the bed. There’s a glass of water on the night stand and he put my phone on the charger. It was a small gesture, but it made my heart flutter. I climbed onto the bed next to him and decided to be brave. “So, was that a one time thing?”, I prepare for the worst. I know that I want more than a friendship with him but I don’t know if he feels the same or what’s going through his head. He turns to face me. “Well I hope not. I’ve liked you for a while and I don’t know, I guess I was just finally brave enough to do something about it tonight,” he shakes his head, “I didn’t just use you for sex, y/n.” I smile at him and a rush of relief flows through me. I let out a heavy sigh. “You ok?” “Mhm, perfect actually. But-“ “But what?” “What do we tell Nick and Matt? I mean they definitely heard us, right?” I let out a giggle. “Oh god,” Chris covers his face with his hands, registering that his brothers almost definitely would’ve heard us fucking. After the initial embarrassment passes, he joins in and laughs about it with me. Chris opens up the blanket for me and motions for me to join him underneath the covers. He pulls me in close to him and we talk and laugh together for a little while. Eventually, his eyelids start to get heavy, blinking slowly as he falls asleep.
I kiss his forehead, “sweet dreams, baby.”
・❥・* ˚ ✦
notes !
*this is my own original writing. i do not give consent for my work to be published outside of tumblr. i do not give consent for anybody to steal or claim this story as their own*
1045 word count am i insane? yes. ANYWAYSSSS i got carried away sorry if u hate long fics but ya. the link at the top is kind of how i imagine chris in the section when his arm is around her neck and she’s on her stomach. ENJOYYYY ILY 🤭
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smileysuh · 6 months
Text
send in the clowns - TEASER
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🌙 staring. Hyuck & Mark & Jaehyun x afab!Reader
🔮 preview. “She’s not the reason we’re dressed as clowns,” Hyuck is quick to insist. He’s such a good liar. Jungwoo would almost believe it, if you hadn’t told him your Halloween clown plan. It’s no secret to you that your three frat friends all have crushes on you, so you’d decided to tell Jaehyun about wanting to fuck a clown, just to see who would actually follow through with the costume. You’d expected one, maybe two- but here are all three men, dressed as exactly what they are: clowns. And it’s obvious to Jungwoo that they think this is their own idea. As if you’re not the puppeteer behind this all. God, Jungwoo loves having you as a best friend, even if your bucket list includes a frat clown Halloween orgy with three of his best friends.
tw/cw. clown kink? orgy, foursome, unprotected sex, semi-inexperienced reader, oral, blow jobs, pussy eating, cum eating, squirting, fingering, masturbation, guided masturbation, spanking, choking, spit-roasting/Eiffel tower, cum/filling kink, praise, dirty talk, first time anal, cock warming, double penetration, triple penetration, multiple reader orgasms, dacryphilia, overstimulation, deep throating, face grinding, etc… I pet names: (hers) barbie, babe, baby.
👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 10.6k
🍭 aus. Halloween, frat au, friends to lovers, Joker!Jae, Buggy!Mark, Pennywise!Hyuck, etc…
☀️ mlist + an. I'm not sure I can even explain this one tbh
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“How long…” Mark leans close again, and his lips brush over your ear, “How long have you known we’re all into you.”
“You’re not great at hiding it, Mark,” you laugh.
“And you really don’t have a favorite?” he asks, pulling away to look you deep in your eyes. 
“Do I seem like I have a favorite?” you counter.
“It’s obviously me,” Hyuck says loudly, pulling you back even tighter. “I’m everyone’s favourite.”
Mark ignores Hyuck, his gaze dipping down to your lips then back up. Even in a sea of bodies, with Hyuck rubbing against your ass, something about being pressed to Mark’s chest while he stares at you like this feels intimate. He’s so pretty, especially with the clown makeup and the blue hair- it gives him this dangerous edge, but below the layers of red, white and blue, this is still Mark, one of the softest men you’ve ever met.
You can’t help yourself, you lean forward, reaching for Mark’s shoulders-
He practically smashes his mouth against yours, and you realize how eager he is by the way his tongue immediately swipes a lick at your lower lip. His fingers dig into your hips, tugging you closer and away from Hyuck-
A second mouth finds your skin, with Hyuck groaning against your throat. The sensation makes a shiver run through you, and you part your lips for Mark, who dips his tongue inside. 
You truly can’t believe your luck tonight. As you cling tighter to Mark, enjoying Hyuck’s rough hands on your body, you almost forget about Jaehyun- but as soon as he pops in your mind, you pull away from the roommates, turning to look for your Joker.
He’s no longer standing by the dance floor, he’s walking away, and your heart lurches in your chest.
“Jae-” you say, tugging away from Mark and Hyuck to chase after your favorite classmate. If you’re being really honest with yourself- you’d told Jae about wanting to fuck a clown because out of all three, he’s the one you could see yourself really going the distance with.
Jaehyun has two years on Mark, and three on Hyuck- he’s the most mature of the three karaoke fratboys you’ve been thirsting over. There’s something about him that’s always made you feel calm- in contrast to the chaos Hyuck brings, and the warm fuzzies Mark gives you.
You like them all in different ways, you suppose, and you can’t stand the idea of losing even one of them from your hook tonight.
“Jae!” you call again, louder this time as you follow him- catching up just as he makes it to the stairwell door. He turns to look at you, and you blink. “Where are you going?”
“Needed a stronger drink,” he muses, scanning your face. “You’ve got a little something, here-” he reaches, cupping your chin and brushing his thumb over your lips, “And here,” his fingers smooth across your neck.
“Oh-” you go to wipe at your skin, only to find white and red makeup on your hand.
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