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heritageposts · 10 days

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What does life in North Korea look like outside of Pyongyang? 🇰🇵

Hey, I'm back again with a very scary "tankie" post that asks you to think of North Koreans as people, and to consider their country not as a cartoonish dystopia, but as a nation that, like any other place on earth, has culture, traditions, and history.

Below is a collection of pictures from various cities and places in North Korea, along with a brief dive into some of the historical events that informs life in the so-called "hermit kingdom."

Warning: very long post

Kaesong, the historic city

Beginning this post with Kaesong, one of the oldest cities in Korea. It's also one of the few major cities in the DPRK (i.e. "North Korea") that was not completely destroyed during the Korean war.

Every single city you'll see from this point on were victims of intense aerial bombardments from the U.S. and its allies, and had to be either partially or completely rebuilt after the war.

From 1951 to 1953, during what has now become known as the "forgotten war" in the West, the U.S. dropped 635,000 tons of bombs over Korea — most of it in the North, and on civilian population centers. An additional 32,000 tons of napalm was also deployed, engulfing whole cities in fire and inflicting people with horrific burns:

For such a simple thing to make, napalm had horrific human consequences. A bit of liquid fire, a sort of jellied gasoline, napalm clung to human skin on contact and melted off the flesh. Witnesses to napalm's impact described eyelids so burned they could not be shut and flesh that looked like "swollen, raw meat." - PBS

Ever wondered why North Koreans seem to hate the U.S so much? Well...

Keep in mind that only a few years prior to this, the U.S. had, as the first and only country in the world, used the atomic bomb as a weapon of war. Consider, too, the proximity between Japan and Korea — both geographically and as an "Other" in the Western imagination.

As the war dragged on, and it became clear the U.S. and its allies would not "win" in any conventional sense, the fear that the U.S. would resort to nuclear weapons again loomed large, adding another frightening dimension to the war that can probably go a long way in explaining the DPRK's later obsession with acquiring their own nuclear bomb.

But even without the use of nuclear weapons, the indiscriminate attack on civilians, particularly from U.S. saturation bombings, was still horrific:

"The number of Korean dead, injured or missing by war’s end approached three million, ten percent of the overall population. The majority of those killed were in the North, which had half of the population of the South; although the DPRK does not have official figures, possibly twelve to fifteen percent of the population was killed in the war, a figure close to or surpassing the proportion of Soviet citizens killed in World War II" - Charles K. Armstrong

On top of the loss of life, there's also the material damage. By the end of the war, the U.S. Air Force had, by its own estimations, destroyed somewhere around 85% of all buildings in the DPRK, leaving most cities in complete ruin. There are even stories of U.S. bombers dropping their loads into the ocean because they couldn't find any visible targets to bomb.

What you'll see below of Kaesong, then, provides both a rare glimpse of what life in North Korea looked like before the war, and a reminder of what was destroyed.

Kaesong's main street, pictured below.

Due the stifling sanctions imposed on the DPRK—which has, in various forms and intensities, been in effect since the 1950s—car ownership is still low throughout the country, with most people getting around either by walking or biking, or by bus or train for longer distances.

Kaesong, which is regarded as an educational center, is also notable for its many Koryŏ-era monuments. A group of twelve such sites were granted UNESCO world heritage status in 2013.

Included is the Hyonjongnung Royal Tomb, a 14th-century mausoleum located just outside the city of Kaesong.

One of the statues guarding the tomb.

Before moving on the other cities, I also wanted to showcase one more of the DPRK's historical sites: Pohyonsa, a thousand-year-old Buddhist temple complex located in the Myohyang Mountains.

Like many of DPRK's historic sites, the temple complex suffered extensive damage during the Korean war, with the U.S. led bombings destroying over half of its 24 pre-war buildings.

The complex has since been restored and is in use today both as a residence for Buddhist monks, and as a historic site open to visitors.

Hamhung, the second largest city in the DPRK.

A coastal city located in the South Hamgyŏng Province. It has long served as a major industrial hub in the DPRK, and has one of the largest and busiest ports in the country.

Hamhung, like most of the coastal cities in the DPRK, was hit particularly hard during the war. Through relentless aerial bombardments, the US and its allies destroyed somewhere around 80-90% percent of all buildings, roads, and other infrastructure in the city.

Now, more than seventy years later, unexploded bombs, mortars and pieces of live ammunition are still being unearthed by the thousands in the area. As recently as 2016, one of North Korea's bomb squads—there's one in every province, faced with the same cleanup task—retrieved 370 unexploded mortar rounds... from an elementary school playground.

Experts in the DPRK estimate it will probably take over a hundred years to clean up all the unexploded ordnance—and that's just in and around Hamhung.

Hamhung's fertilizer plant, the biggest in North Korea.

When the war broke out, Hamhung was home to the largest nitrogen fertilizer plant in Asia. Since its product could be used in the creation of explosives, the existence of the plant is considered to have made Hamhung a target for U.S. aggression (though it's worth repeating that the U.S. carried out saturation bombings of most population centers in the country, irrespective of any so-called 'military value').

The plant was immediately rebuilt after the war, and—beyond its practical use—serves now as a monument of resistance to U.S. imperialism, and as a functional and symbolic site of self-reliance.

Chongjin, the third largest city in the DPRK.

Another coastal city and industrial hub. It underwent a massive development prior to the Korean war, housing around 300,000 people by the time the war broke out.

By 1953, the U.S. had destroyed most of Chongjin's industry, bombed its harbors, and killed one third of the population.

Wonsan, a rebuilt seaside city.

The city of Wonsan is a vital link between the DPRK's east and west coasts, and acts today as both a popular holiday destination for North Koreans, and as a central location for the country's growing tourism industry.

Considered a strategically important location during the war, Wonsan is notable for having endured one of the longest naval blockades in modern history, lasting a total of 861 days.

By the end of the war, the U.S. estimated that they had destroyed around 80% of the city.

Masikryong Ski Resort, located close to Wonsan. It opened to the public in 2014 and is the first, I believe, that was built with foreign tourists in mind.

Sariwon, another rebuilt city

One of the worst hit cities during the Korean War, with an estimated destruction level of 95%.

I've written about its Wikipedia page here before, which used to mockingly describe its 'folk customs street'—a project built to preserve old Korean traditions and customs—as an "inaccurate romanticized recreation of an ancient Korean street."

No mention, of course, of the destruction caused by the US-led aerial bombings, or any historical context at all that could possibly even hint at why the preservation of old traditions might be particularly important for the city.

Life outside of the towns and cities

In the rural parts of the DPRK, life primarily revolves around agriculture. As the sanctions they're under make it difficult to acquire fuel, farming in the DPRK relies heavily on manual labour, which again, to avoid food shortages, requires that a large portion of the labour force resides in the countryside.

Unlike what many may think, the reliance on manual labour in farming is a relatively "new" development. Up until the crisis of the 1990s, the DPRK was a highly industrialized nation, with a modernized agricultural system and a high urbanization rate. But, as the access to cheap fuel from the USSR and China disappeared, and the sanctions placed upon them by Western nations heavily restricted their ability to import fuel from other sources, having a fuel-dependent agricultural industry became a recipe for disaster, and required an immediate and brutal restructuring.

For a more detailed breakdown of what lead to the crisis in the 90s, and how it reshaped the DPRKs approach to agriculture, check out this article by Zhun Xu.

Some typical newly built rural housing, surrounded by farmland.

Tumblr only allows 20 pictures per post, but if you want to see more pictures of life outside Pyongyang, check out this imgur album.

#dprk #north korea #i've had this post unfinished in drafts for almost a year #also sorry about the spelling and potential formatting issues it's a nightmare to edit at this point #it was literally just meant to be a collection of picture and then the writing just sort of happened #enjoy the brief heritageposts history lesson i guess

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kayesfanfics · 24 days

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Hi can I request a femreader/ nightcrawler story where the reader is shy and anxious, while Kurt misunderstands this as her thinking he’s a monster?

But in truth she’s been trying to confess her feelings to him but she always backs out last minute in fear?

Thank you!

A/N: The way I’ve probably imagined this scenario at 12 years old laying in bed at night. I also made the reader friends with Rogue, Jean and Ororo since she’s closer to their ages

“Sugah, yer lookin’ more nervous than a long-tailed pussy cat in a room full o’ rockin’ chairs!” Rogue tapped your shoulder as she walked into the lounging area, where you were having morning coffee with Jean and Ororo. “What’s gotcha all riled up, huh?”

“Kurt’s playing basketball with the others outside...in shorts.” Jean quipped before taking a sip of coffee, a playful grin on her face. Ororo chuckled at the embarrassed face you made, as if someone just walked in on you changing.

“Jean!” You whined, face turning redder when Rogue started laughing.

“Oh, Y/N! We’re just teasing!” Jean giggled as you pouted at all of them finding your embarrassment amusing.

“I just don’t see why you haven’t told him about her feelings yet!”

They all knew you’ve had the biggest crush on the fuzzy blue X-Man, Nightcrawler, ever since he joined the team a few months ago. He was always so nice to everyone, including you, and he seemed to always say the right thing at the right time. He even made your morning coffee sometimes when you got up late, knowing everyone’s coffee order by heart by now.

The boys were outside playing basketball with Jubilee and Roberto, showing the younger ones how it was done. You watched out the window at the court, seeing Gambit and Wolverine battling for the ball before Kurt teleported between them and snatched the ball from them, tossing it into the basket and laughing when they both started yelling about the “no powers” rule. You smiled before realizing you were staring, clearing your throat and turning to Rogue.

“You know I get too nervous around your brother, I can’t even ask him to pass the salt at dinner!”

“Yer always nervous, that’s fine! But y’know, he totally likes you too. I can tell.”

“No he doesn’t.” You shook your head in denial.

“Yes he does.” All three women said at the same time, side eyeing you or rolling their eyes.

“My dear, Kurt is a very charismatic man, but he goes out of his way to make you smile every chance he gets.” Ororo set her hand atop of yours. “I even see a flash of disappointment when you flee from his advances.”

“Really?” You asked, feeling a bit guilty about making him feel bad. You were a generally nervous person, but your anxiety sky rocketed around him, your heart always felt like it would explode out of your chest when he got close to you or touched you. It was difficult to hold eye contact with him, your nerves getting the best of you and looking down at the floor while you spoke to him. You’d give him a scared smile when he handed you things, your blood running cold when his hand brushed up against yours during those exchanges. You often found your eyes wandering to him when he wasn’t focused on you, it was easier to look at him when you knew he wasn’t aware of you checking him out. You loved the way his tail squashed playfully as he joked around with Morph, how his ear would twitch like a cats when he heard someone new enter the room, how his fangs gleamed when he smiled or how his bright yellow eyes sparked with mischief during a fight.

“Okay…you know what? Todays the day, today I need to confess to him! If I don’t today, I never will cause I’m a baby and will back out.” You stood up confidently.

“Yeah! Go get em, tiger!” Rogue cheered as you walked away, then lowered her voice. “She ain’t gonna.”

“I think Y/N can do things she sets her mind to.” Storm defended you.

“Wanna put ten bucks on it?” Rogue raised an eyebrow and cheekily grinned.

“…you’re on.” Storm nodded, shaking her hand as Jean spoke up, saying she’d bet alongside Storm that you could do it.

“You know I can still hear you all?” You crossed your arms from the window, getting a closer look and watching Kurt dodge Roberto’s lunge. Your friends all laughed as you shook your head, trying to get ahold of your nerves.

How were you supposed to tell the most handsome, heroic, sweetest, most amazing person ever you were in love with them? Kurt was genuinely the kindest person you’d ever met, giving you butterflies when you watched him comfort a mutant child during a fight, or how he helped his teammates so gently when they were injured. You couldn’t fathom how people were afraid or disgusted by him, he was the most gorgeous man in the world. How you could see a tinge of indigo under his blue fur when he blushed or bruised, how sculpted and chiseled he was yet also was so soft to look at. When he wore sweatpants and a tank top after training one day, you swore you would have a heart attack right then and there seeing how attractive he looked in the outfit. You adored sneaking peeks of him working out alone, his muscles bulging when he did push ups or pull ups on a bar, how flexible and agile he was and how effortless he made it look. You’d stand outside the door until you felt you would get caught staring, not wanting to seem like a creep.

You were suddenly pulled out of your thoughts when the door opened, Wolverine carrying Jubilee, pretending to be limp and passed out in his arms.

“What happened?” Jean asked as the girls all stood up from their little coffee and gossip session.

“She tripped and scraped her knee trying to get the ball from Logan!” Morph snickered as they all filed inside.

“I’ve been attacked! He pushed me and now I’m severely wounded!” Jubilee whined dramatically as Logan set her down on the counter. You waited for Kurt while you listened to Jubilee and Wolverine bicker about the seriousness of her cut knee, feeling your heart skip a beat when he finally walked in, chatting with Hank.

“Um…hey, Kurt?” You spoke quietly, but Kurt’s ear twitched and picked up your shy voice.

“Yes, Miss Y/N?” He asked, stopping and letting Hank go ahead of him.

“I…um…could you find a first aid kit, please?”

You blushed when you heard your friends laugh behind you and Storm and Jean handed Rogue money, knowing Kurt was looking past you at them, wondering what they were doing. You felt like a dork backing out of confessing and asking him to do something you could easily do, but you changed your mind at the last second that you weren’t ready yet.

“Sure.” He smiled, before bamfing off. You turned and glared at your friends, before walking walked over to Jubilee, seeing blood dripping down her shin and gravel from the court embedded inside of it.

“Ouch, let me clean that for you.” You said and wet a paper towel, ignoring Logan saying how she was fine and it was part of growing up and being a kid. You kneeled down and patted down Jubilee’s injury, soaking up the blood and wiping out any gravel from the wound.

“Here you are, Y/N.” You heard a familiar sweet, velvety voice beside you. You looked over and saw Nightcrawler holding out a first aid kit from the nearest bathroom, a charming grin on his face.

“Oh, um, thank you Kurt.” You smiled at him shyly, before quickly turning your attention to Jubilee. You didn’t see the look of rejection in his yellow eyes as the irritated twitch of his tail at that, before he sighed and bamfed off again.

*a couple hours later*

“Mein Gott!” The mutant shouted in surprise, also not paying attention to where he was going before tumbling backwards at the collision. You were on your way to training, focusing on wrapping up your hands to look where you were going. Now, you knocked down the last person you wanted to. You felt bad seeing the gorgeous man on the floor because of you.

“Kurt! I’m so sorry! Here, let me help!” You held a hand out to him, but he got up himself.

“It is fine.” He said simply before walking past you, then suddenly pausing and turning to you. “May I ask you something?”

“Sure.” You fidgeted with your hands nervously, anxious for the question.

“Do you…have I offended you in some way?” He asked, his eyes flashing with a bit of sadness.

“What? No? Why would you think that?” You asked, worried your timid behavior had finally kicked you in the ass.

“You tend to just brush me off, I’ve noticed. Lately you don’t really look at me, you respond with few words to me. I just thought…maybe I did something to scare you? Disgust you? Perhaps I…you think I’m a monster?”

You stared at him in the hallway, shock freezing your thoughts for a moment. How could he ever think your awkwardness around him could be because you thought he was disgusting? That he thought you found him frightening? You hadn’t realized how not making eye contact or responding curtly would come across to him, a man who’s been persecuted and attacked his whole life for how he looked. He was the most admirable, amazing person you’d ever met and you made him feel like a monster.

“Kurt, no! Not at all! I just…I do like you, I do! You just…make me very nervous. More so than I usually am…”

“How? Do I intimidate you?” He tilted his head in confusion. “I do not mean to-“

“It’s not that, really. I uh…I just really admire you, I guess. You make me more nervous than the others because…because I really like you…a lot.” You looked down at the floor, shyly looking up into his eyes. His face relaxed when he finally understood what you meant.

“Oh…I apologize for thinking so little of your actions. You are understanding and non judge mental, I should never have assumed what I did about you. How about I take you out to apologize for my ignorance?” He flashed his fangs at you in a charming smile, slowly approaching you before he was close enough to hold out a hand to you.

“I-I…okay.” You took his hand and sheepishly smiled up at him, allowing him to guide you down the hall. “I’m really sorry I made you feel like I-“

“No apology necessary, Y/N, really. I’m just glad we’ve come to…an understanding.” He grinned, bringing your hand up to his lips to place a soft kiss on your knuckles. You blushed and giggled at the action

#x men 97 #xmen x reader #nightcrawler #kurt wagner #kurt wagner x reader #nightcrawler x reader

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princesssmars · 9 months

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thinking of karlach who once her engine cools off goes fucking ballistic. nsfw, fem! reader, me being horny for karlach because who isn't. baldur's gate 3 spoilers! i've only finished act one so i start improvising shit.

now, for a woman who has not been able to have even a hint of physical contact for ten years, you have to give her her flowers with how well she seems to deal with being incredibly emotionally and sexually frustrated.

but once she joins your party that hold she had over her body and brain starts to crack. fast.

hell, it started happening before the two of you became romantically involved. while she was drawn to you from the moment you said "yes" to helping a stranger kill a building full of people, she also had eyes and constantly wondered how everyone in the party was so attractive. astarion was never not flirting with someone, wyll was incredibly kind to her, and she could tell when shadowheart was admiring her physique...

but after a few weeks of traveling, fighting, and making friends for the first time in years, eventually during those quiet nights at camp she finds you invading her mind her mind when she rests in her tent to fall asleep, kind of like the parasite, but in a good way.

she thinks of a joke you you made when the two of you were eating by the fire that made her snort like a pig, the way you explored a dungeon and when you found a magical war axe immediately turned to her and gave it to her with a smile, how you so quickly stood up for her when wyll was adamant on killing her because of her past.

your kindness, your intelligence (she's amused when you act like a dumbass and fail when trying to persuade someone), just everything about you, it was only a matter of time before she asked you to join her when everyone fell asleep one night, talking about how you thankfully return her feelings. it takes a turn when you bring up how her condition leaves her pent up, and as you're whispering the sinful things you cant wait to do to her and she do to you.

it hits her full force that oh, she does actually want to fuck your brains out.

after that night everything you do starts to turn her on. like, horrendously. eating a snack on the road? all she can focus on is the way your lips move around the fruit. dancing to a song volo is playing? she's becoming entranced by the way your hips and arms move to the music.

once when the sun was set and the moon was high she headed down to the lake, figuring the rest of the party had already cleaned themselves when she started to undress on the sand, standing still as a statue when she spots you in the middle of the lake, rinsing out your hair when you turn around to look at her.

she can see the water falling from your hair to your shoulders, dripping down over the peak of your nipples, some falling down your chest to between yours legs-

when she comes back later after running off, the ground where she stood was scorched.

but until her engine got fixed, her nights were spent inside her tent rubbing at her clit and fingering her cunt while pretending it was you. the only thing that makes it better is when she can tell you about all the naughty things she thinks about you and seeing you squirm.

once dammon gets another piece of infernal iron and gives her the final upgrade she needs to have physical contact, she at least has the courtesy to take you to a rented room in an inn before she ravages you.

shes tossing you on to the bed and wondering if she should slow down, take it slow with you for your first time together to make it all the more special, but you're staring at her while she's contemplating and youre taking off your top and then youre pants and then youre pulling her by the arm on top of you and she realizes she can save the softness for later.

there's so much kissing, pulling, biting and moaning that after both of your first two orgasms she starts to feel dizzy. she swears shes never felt a greater pleasure than when you were cumming on her fingers, or when you brought her hips up to your face and made her ride your tongue.

she reaches down to your bag that was throw haphazardly on to the floor earlier and finds the toy you bought, the tiefling smiling so brightly her fangs are on full display as she aligns the double sided dildo with your entrance, nearly going cross eyed at the way it slips inside of you before she sticks the other end into her.

she throws your legs over her shoulders, hold your hands in hers, and starts thrusting so quickly its almost like she's afraid she'll die if she stops.

and she is. she has never felt as good as she does in this moment, fucking the toy into you before feeling it do the same to her every time she pulls her hips back.

shes thinking about how much she loves you when she feels your right hand claw at her back.

shes wondering how someone can be so damn beautiful when you arch your back and nearly scream out her name.

she can barely contain herself when she thinks about how she gets to fuck you like this for the rest of her life when her hand leaves yours and grabs onto the wooden bedpost.

your moans of ecstasy reach a pitch and her eyes are taking in every detail as you come undone, to the heaving of your chest and the fluttering of your lashes. its your gentle whisper of her name and a gentle kiss to her lips that tips her over the edge, grinding her hips faster to the point it starts to hurt and she feels her hands tightening and tightening-

her high feels like it lasts forever before she comes back down to earth, breathing heavy with a dopey smile on her face when she looks at you. she's confused by the look on your face, similarly blissed out but your cheeks are bunched up in that way that means youre trying to hold in a laugh...

its only then she starts to feel it : a large chunk of the headboard is in her hand, snapped almost clean off from the rest of in im the height of her euphoria. she cant help but laugh which makes you finally laugh which just makes you laugh harder.

she drops the wood and shakes her hand of any splinters when your hands are wrapping around her neck and pulling her back into you.

she doesn't feel that bad about it.

i've resorted to getting ideas from both dreams and those thoughts you turn into stories while trying to go to sleep im like a genius. i put this in the queue posted it and it only showed up on my blog whats with that.

#bg3 #bg3 tav #bg3 x reader #bg3 karlach #baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 x reader #baldur's gate 3 #tav x karlach #karlach x tav #karlach #karlach x reader #karlach x reader smut

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1d1195 · 2 months

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Ding - Round 2

Read Ding here | ~6.2 k words

WARNING/spoiler there's a scummy guy in this part that tries to be forceful with our MC to go with him back to his place when she doesn't want to. Nothing will happen and nothing will be described in detail but be kind to your mind and heart ♥, trauma, anxiety, pining, and fluff.

From me: I actually know VERY little about boxing and even less about throwing a punch. I do however feel I'm well-versed in sprinkles so do with that what you will. Some parts of this got a little away from me again. I hope you like it 💕

Summary: Harry and Cupcake are both really busy and haven't seen each other in two months. But when Cupcake gets into trouble, she has no choice but to run into Harry.

Harry learned to fight when he was ten years old. He didn’t have his dad around much to teach him. Mum and Gemma may as well have been pacifists and as such, they weren’t much help when it came to defending himself. Harry watched his little girl friends get teased by boys. The same boys that told him he was weird for liking girls when they had cooties. Even if he didn’t (always) like them like that and was just merely defending them. Mum and Gemma may have been pacifists, but they taught Harry to be a respectful young boy. Especially toward girls.

One too many mouthfuls of sand at recess was enough to make him finally do something about it. He was angry. Angry because the girls didn’t like him because he was a boy (although they tolerated him since he was protecting them). Angry none of the boys in his class wanted to be friends with him because he was being nice to girls filled with cooties. Angry that he didn’t have a dad to teach him how to be a boy’s boy.

For a ten-year-old, he was really angry.

Mum took him to a gym—an introductory class to kickboxing. Just to get some of his anger out in an appropriate manner (and so he wouldn’t be sent to the principal’s office during recess again). Harry took a liking to the punching bag. He cried the first time he used it with the help of an older kid who was helping him learn to punch the right way. The poor teen watching him get so frustrated that his punches and kicks weren’t landing right—even though it was his very first time throwing a punch—saw something in him. Alerted his boss, encouraged Harry, worked with Harry every time he came in. He was a great mentor and even though he left only a couple years after meeting Harry to go to university and all that, Harry was forever grateful.

His first amateur match was at fifteen. Then there were only ten rounds at most, and he won by a landslide in five. By then he met Louis—someone who saw the same thing that teen kid saw in him and offered to be his manager. It wasn’t anything serious at the time. Harry was still in school and only using his time after school to get better at boxing. Louis was only a few years ahead but knew enough to help him be great.

By the time he turned eighteen, he had won three state-titles and people were watching him. At least in a way that those who cared about boxing did. Throughout university he trained and got better and won more and more.

Now Harry was twenty-five. He had to be nearing at least a hundred thousand punches since he was ten—eitherthrowing them at someone or at least in training against the punching bag he loved so much. Maybe more. He couldn’t even begin to think or count how he would figure out that number. Harry’s whole life was training, working, and fighting.

The only joys he had outside of boxing were his car and the sweet little niece that Gemma had kindly brought into his life—but that was only a recent change.

Only one other very recent change had left him a bit tongue-tied and flustered. Harry didn’t get flustered. Not since he was ten and knew he could beat the crap out of someone. There was no ringing bell to prepare him to make eye contact with a complete stranger and just feel like he had never ever felt before.

Was it love? Who could say, really. Harry had never loved anyone in his life that wasn’t his family or his friends. It made his stomach flutter like the first time he fought in a ring for something other than a trophy. A mere two hundred dollars on the line, all to get punched a whole bunch of times. Now he was still getting punched a few times over for a decent amount of money, but the thought of that pretty girl and her sprinkles made him unbelievably excited. Knowing she was there really made him feel different.

He knew next to nothing about her, but he was certain he was going to fall for her given half a chance. Even if she gave him a half a chance—a quarter!—he would do everything he could to have her in his life. If anyone else had damaged his car, he might have lost his shit, but there was something about her kind face, her doe-eyed expression in the rainy lamplight that made him rethink his entire life in the span of twenty seconds.

But whatever it was that he felt for her, he knew it started with her ringside. Beside his best friend waiting for the end of the fight that never seemed to end.

Normally, Harry’s matches finished in an average of nine rounds. But he was seated in the corner, sipping water like a hamster from the bottle, while Louis put Vaseline on his face where the cut on his eyebrow split between the tenth and the eleventh. “How you doing?”

“Is she impressed?” He asked.

“Who?”

“Cupcake. She’s sitting next t’Niall,” he was breathing heavy. Good as he was, it took a lot of energy to punch someone for a half hour as it was.

“Who?” Louis repeated, then thought better of it. He shook his head in frustration. “Can you focus on what you’re doing, Harold?!”

Louis didn’t get it. Harry rolled his eyes and sighed. To be fair, she was probably the reason it was taking longer than normal. Not that he minded. As long as she was impressed by the end, of course. Harry was on his feet, shadowboxing briefly with Louis, that boyish smile on his face. “What the fuck is your issue?” Louis hissed at him. “You’re acting like a lunatic!”

It seemed like a cliché to say he was in love, so he refrained from doing so. He felt it spared Louis further frustration as well. Cupcake, Cupcake, Cupcake. It was the only thing his brain could think. Fortunately, the bell rang, signaling the beginning of the next round and knocked a bit of the sense back in his head that had floated away from him on the thoughts of the pretty girl nearby.

His opponent was just as tired (although Harry believed his opponent was more so) as himself. He could see the exhaustion setting in as he held his gloves up near his face blocking a few jabs Harry threw to get the excitement of the new round going. He was waiting, searching, nearly taunting for a window of opportunity. Right as his opponent swung aiming for his face, Harry dodged his punch; smirking as he did. A blinding weak spot, his guard was down for only a fraction of a second but that was all Harry needed.

Poor guy didn’t stand a chance.

Ding.

Harry looked like he was going to fall asleep sitting there in the bakery kitchen. He was a bit cut up; his eyebrow, the corner of his mouth, and his cheekbone had little cuts. Soothed with Vaseline, but it didn’t seem to bother him. His eyes were droopy. “Is Niall still around to drive you home?” She asked.

He shook his head. “I can drive,” he murmured.

He wasn’t really looking at her, but her look and tone screamed skeptical. “You look too tired to drive.”

“Mm,” he hummed. She was busy bustling back and forth through the kitchen. Cupcakes were in the oven. She only made a dozen, but Harry didn’t seem to notice it was a small amount. He was sitting at the big table in the middle of the kitchen. A seat dragged in from the office. She had her laptop open in her office running the report she needed while Harry held his head propped in one hand. She busied herself with prepping dough for scones and pastries while Harry tried not to loll off to sleep. She smirked at him.

“I could call you an Uber if you wanted,” she offered. “You don’t need to stay with me.”

His eyes were hardly open. “I’ll get a second wind in a minute,” he yawned. “S’jus’ the adrenaline wearing off,” he explained.

“Does that hurt?” She asked gesturing to the cuts on his (otherwise really perfect) face.

He shook his head. “Stings a little.”

“Will you be sore tomorrow?”

“A little. Stiff really... Why y’want t’give me a massage, kitten?” He smiled flirtatiously. Maybe she should have felt uncomfortable, alone with a man she only just met. But honestly, she thought Niall might be her new best friend and if Niall could vouch for Harry, then she wasn’t all that worried about him. Regardless of him knocking out his opponent with one punch. Truthfully, it was nice of her to walk her to the bakery. It was later than she expected and while the town they lived in was pretty safe, the college safety tips of never walking alone flooded her mind each time she did walk alone. She blushed at his forward assumption, but fortunately she was prepping something and stuffing it in the fridge, so he didn’t get to see. Plus, his exhaustion probably made him even flirtier.

“Thanks for being m’good luck charm, Cupcake,” he murmured sleepily.

“I didn’t know you didn’t need one.”

“Can never have too much luck.”

She smiled, continuing her prepping quietly. Harry watched her for a while. Eventually, his arm dropped to the table, and he rested his head on it. After another moment, a soft snore escaped his lips, and she smiled a little brighter. Only for herself, really, since Harry was asleep. She continued working. She was used to late nights. Maybe he really was going to get a second wind—honestly, she couldn’t imagine boxing and punching someone for almost forty-five minutes with only one-minute breaks in between rounds. Sometimes while she was baking, she would try to do other tasks while the timer counted down to take the treats out of the oven. It always surprised her how long and how short a minute could feel in the same breath.

But while she worked, she was mindful to not make too many loud noises. Harry needed sleep it seemed. She prepped for nearly an hour while waiting for the cupcakes to cool long enough to scoop out the middle and fed the sugary raspberry filling into the empty space. Frosting a dozen cupcakes took all but ten minutes then she packaged them in two half-dozen plastic containers with A Pinch of Sprinkles label taping it shut. Gently, she put her hand on his upper arm, and she really shouldn’t have been so surprised by how taut his bicep was beneath her hand, but she was. He was unbelievably strong, and she was in slight awe and shock of touching him—and he wasn’t even flexing. But rather than be creepy, she gave him a gentle shake. “Hey, Harry... Uh...it’s late. I’m gonna get going,” her voice was soft.

Harry startled almost jumping out of his seat and rubbing his eyes with the heels of his palms. “Sorry, sorry. Wow,” he turned his neck to the left and then right. “M’sorry I dozed off there.”

She shrugged. “Probably needed it,” she assured him with a gentle smile. She pushed the dozen cupcakes forward, across the table. “For you.”

He blinked then looked up at her. “Did you make these for—”

“Well, yes, I made them. You were unbelievably kind to me even though I dented Clay. Plus, you won so it’s like a job well done, you know?”

“You made me cupcakes,” he repeated, his gaze unmoving from her face.

“We really need to work out this whole repeating what the other one says thing,” she felt her cheeks warm as he stared at her, but she smiled, only feeling slightly awkward.

He turned his attention to the two plastic boxes and tilted his head at them. They were identical. His fascination with her precision was immense. “What kind are they?”

“The raspberry filled ones. You said you liked them.”

His gaze went right back to her, and he felt hungry, but not for cupcakes.

Well, at least not the baked good kind of cupcake.

“Thank you, Cupcake. That was sweet of you. I hope it wasn’t too much trouble.”

Her smile seemed to transcend to a feeling of relief. “Not even a little...um... I just have to grab a couple things. Would you... mind walking me to my car? Unless you need to leave right now. I know it’s crazy late. I’ll be okay. I walk to my car on my own usually but it’s always a little creepy. But I feel bad I made you—”

“’Course m’gonna walk you t’your car,” he rolled his eyes. “Besides I don’t want you t’ding Clay again,” he winked to ensure she knew he was kidding. Because yes, he loved his car.

But rapidly, when it came to her, the car didn’t matter in the slightest.

She hadn’t seen Harry in two months.

It wasn’t like she was avoiding him. Part of her knew he was a mere social media friend request away. In fact, she was trying her hardest to not stare at the pictures of him on social media, the PR plug for his matches, and all the things that she saw Niall, Louis, and all his other friends shared. But she didn’t want to come off too forward. It seemed weird to be so into a man she only talked to for no longer than ten minutes total.

Besides...she had her routines. Work, family, and more work.

Also, if Harry was really infatuated with her the way Niall alluded to, he knew where her bakery was—he easily could come and find her here. But she did notice there was a tag to her shop on Instagram with raspberry filled cupcakes in the picture. (All it would take is for her to press the Follow button and wait.) While she didn’t know Harry all that well, she assumed he was probably just as busy. Her brief cyber-stalking showed that Harry was often at the gym—although she wasn’t sure which one. He was also an amazing uncle. That much was clear. It warmed her heart, and she would never want to tear Harry away from that kind of time. Family was extremely important to her. She wholeheartedly understood how much his free time was probably monopolized by the little baby.

But it was so strange that she didn’t know him yet there was some part of her that wanted to see him. It was bizarre. She never got all up and arms about a guy. There was work and there was her family. That was it. That was all she could afford to balance. She didn’t need a guy to mess with her routines or upset the balance of her life.

However, every time she walked alone to her car at night now, she wished that Harry was with her to assure her safety—even though she had done it hundreds of times before. The night they met, he walked her in silence, opened her door and made sure she was safely tucked inside. “Good night, Cupcake,” he smiled almost dreamily.

“Good night, Harry. Congratulations,” she responded with a smile too.

Harry’s smile grew and he looked away briefly before patted the top of her car and turned to Clay, put his cupcakes on the passenger seat and moved to the driver’s side. He gave her a wave and pulled out of his parking spot.

It was two months ago.

But after just one month, it was hard to deny she didn’t miss him.

That had to mean something. Just one brief night—not even a date. Most of that night was spent with Harry in the ring or asleep at her kitchen table. Hell, she got to know Niall more that night. But it was Harry’s smile that plagued her thought—crooked and perfect. The way his eyes glittered as he convinced her to follow him with a picture of his niece.

“Are you baking something in here or burning in here?” Maeve asked.

Maeve was her best employee—her right hand nearly every day. More importantly, her best friend. Shaking her head of the thoughts surrounding Harry, she sighed and turned to the oven where her fudge brownies were surely overdone. “Shit,” she whispered.

“I don’t think you’ve ever burned anything. Are you okay?” Maeve asked gently. It was a loaded question. It took a lot of time to dig the answer out of her friend, but Maeve did. She knew asking if she was okay was probably the wrong thing to say.

But if it was, she didn’t mind. Of course she didn’t. Her very best friend was sweeter than all the treats in the display case. “Just a little distracted,” she mumbled grabbing the tray and setting it in the sink to cool off (and hopefully so she didn’t have to scrape the bottom of the tray later).

“Harry on your brain?” Maeve giggled.

She rolled her eyes but felt the way her cheeks warmed at Maeve’s (correct) assumption. Maeve was shocked to learn that her strong-willed friend was convinced by a stranger to go see a boxing match. She couldn’t believe it. Granted, once she saw the picture of Harry, she couldn’t disagree. I think I would let him punch me in the face if he wanted to.

She decided keeping Maeve as far away from Harry as possible was probably necessary.

Rarely did she and Maeve work together. As her best employee and best friend, it was like asking her to hold her child when Maeve was on shift. There was no one she trusted more. So, when Maeve wasn’t there, she often was and vice versa. But every so often, usually at the shift change, Maeve got to see her best friend in her element. “Well, the good news is, you can go think of him at home,” she winked at her.

She didn’t even look at her. “You’re disgusting,” she deadpanned.

Maeve snorted. “That’s not even what I was insinuating. Your mind went directly to the gutter. Good for you. I bet he thinks about you while he’s doing it too.”

“Jesus Christ,” she was blushing brightly now. “I just want to fix the display case and then I’ll go.”

“Any fun plans for tonight?”

She hesitated briefly. “Uh yeah...actually. I have a date,” she mumbled.

“Oh!” It was silent for a long beat. Rarely did she go on dates. There were only a few since she moved into town three years ago. Mostly because the bakery took up so much of her free time. The remaining bit of time she had and didn’t go on dates was because of the guilt she felt. Maeve’s surprise was palpable. It made her cheeks turn pink and she bit the inside of her cheek. “Good,” Maeve smiled encouragingly. “Online?” She asked.

She nodded. “We’ve been messaging back and forth for like...” she shrugged. “Two weeks.”

“Are you excited?”

No. “Yes,” she sighed softly. “Been a while,” she smirked. There was a huge part of her brain that told her she didn’t want to go because it wasn’t Harry. It was like a neon sign had been posted in her frontal lobe reminding her that it was pointless to even consider this date. She should have just requested to follow Harry and be done with it—he would probably drop everything if she asked him on a date. “Just...nervous.”

“It’ll be good!” Maeve said reassuringly. “Share your location with me and text me when you get to where you’re sleeping,” she wiggled her eyebrows suggestively.

“I will be sleeping at home,” she promised snorting through her laugh at her best friend.

Maeve smiled heading to the front and leaving her to finish with her burned brownies.

The front of the bakery was dark in color; she was aiming for warmth. The floors and baseboards were dark walnut brown. It contrasted sharply with the wall she wall-papered by hand with a white and brown marble pattern behind the display cases. It made the black chalkboard menus with the same walnut brown frames stand out. The lights were always set to dim when they were on. Her goal was to recreate the feeling of her childhood home—particularly the den where her father set up the most beautiful Christmases. The bakery lacked a fireplace (she joked with Maeve that it was an oven or a fireplace, and the oven did a better job at cooking croissants evenly).

The front of the bakery wasn’t massive. There were five little tables to sit and enjoy their treats if people wanted but it was really a grab and go kind of place. The back had more treats stored so the main room didn’t look overwhelming. The front display cases still contained more treats than anyone could think of eating. I wish I could buy one of everything was heard frequently from the line. Eventually she wanted to invest in coffee but for the time being she liked just her treats and was happy to recommend the coffee place down the road. If she ever got a hold of more space, then she would consider buying all the machines for coffee.

The bakery was honestly warmest when it was rainy. Which was frequent. She was reorganizing the main cupcake display, a tower of three tiers with one of each type of cupcake she made. The raspberry filled cupcake was the one that had been on top for the last two months. Each time it was bought, she replaced it with another. While people raved about her brownies, cakes, and even the croissants, it was the cupcakes that people came for; and so, she took care of the display as much as possible.

“Which one do you recommend?” She turned to the voice and saw a mom and little girl waiting patiently. She smiled fondly.

“Raspberry filled,” she pulled it from the top tier and handed it over. “Try it,” she offered.

“Oh, we don’t want to get you in trouble,” the mom said quickly while her daughter grabbed for it almost immediately.

She laughed. “Don’t worry, I know the owner,” she promised. “Maeve! I’m leaving!” She called but was delighted by the little girl’s approval. Silence, cake and filling on her cheeks immediately, and a delightful look in her eye.

“Have fun!” She called back.

“Enjoy the cupcakes. I also like the lemon vanilla ones.”

“I think raspberry filled is the winner,” the mom smiled.

She nodded, unable to keep herself from grinning back. “A fan favorite.”

She should have stayed home. The bad weather should have been an omen. But maybe it wouldn’t have been because she met Harry in bad weather, and everything was fine that night. It soured her mood and made her feel infinitely worse to think about the comparison.

I’m home. Not a great date. I’ll tell you later. She wished she had gone to Maeve’s. Maybe she would have doted on her. But she didn’t want to fall apart the way she planned on in front of her.

:( sorry babe. Sleep tight. Talk to you tomorrow :(

She locked her apartment door and checked at least fifty times that it was truly locked before she moved to her bathroom. Her heart was still in her throat and her eyes felt raw with tears. Maybe she was overreacting.

No.

The rational part of her brain reasoned against her handwaving casualness. She had good instincts. Obviously. If this same situation happened with Harry, then maybe she would have considered it her own poor judgment. It was more reason that someone as terrifying as Harry could have be sweet as her cupcakes that it was her good judgment that helped her get out of there tonight.

She hurried to get out of her clothes. Part of her considered throwing them away. She didn’t want them any longer. She wasn’t sure she would ever wear them again. She turned the shower on as hot as she could stand it and pushed it a little further.

He didn’t hurt her physically. He tried. It was obvious his intent was to force her into the car... or worse. Which was disgusting in its own right. Until that moment in the dark, rainy parking lot, it was almost identical to her moment with Harry. But it wasn’t. Harry didn’t make her feel unsafe. Harry didn’t make her feel threatened. Harry gave her an out even though he wanted to hang out with her. She knew she could leave at any moment and Harry wouldn’t have blamed her.

She rubbed her arm so hard with her loofa in the shower stream it burned for a new reason. Tears blurred her vision and she felt so stupid. So completely idiotic. How could she let it get that far? That was so dangerous. So close she could have been hurt in so many ways that she didn’t want to think about, ever again. She closed her eyes and let the water wash the night away, feeling completely alone and dreadful.

She never wanted to date again.

She finished her shower, sniffles plaguing her, and she got into her comfiest pajamas. Her heart was still beating too fast as she crawled under the covers. She felt so ashamed. It felt like her fault. All of it.

There was a tiny rattling in her brain that Harry could have prevented it all. She should have just requested Harry on social media when she met him. If she had, she would have had his number by then. He would have helped her for sure.

Without thinking, she scrolled on her apps, and clicked on the various follow buttons. Every platform she could think of to request his social media friendship—looking like a lunatic be damned. Almost everything had a phone call button now, she could use it as backup if she needed. For good measure she requested Niall too. It was nearing midnight, and she couldn’t bring herself to care. She was scared. Nervous. Heartbroken.

Yet, within moments, Harry returned the request along with a direct message in her inbox.

Thinking of me at midnight, hmm? 😉

She snorted despite her uneasiness. One sentence and she melted. But she couldn’t let him know that. 🙄 it was nice while it lasted. Just going to unfollow you...

Aw, c’mon Cupcake 🙁

Oh alright... No, not really... just can’t sleep. Popped up on my people you may know while scrolling. It wasn’t a complete lie, and she was glad she wasn’t having a phone call. He would have heard her sniffles and then she wasn’t sure she would have been able to stop herself from inviting a total stranger over. Right now, she didn’t trust her judgment fully.

Been dying to press that Follow button, Cupcake. Didn’t want to come on too strong after that first night.

She couldn’t help but smile. The contrast between the night she met Harry, and her present night made her sad but relieved at the same time. I see you enjoyed the cupcakes.

Louis made me run laps for two hours because of you. I ate all twelve in less than 72 hours. Do you put drugs in those? They’re addicting.

Lol, no drugs. Well... sugar. So, pick your poison I guess, right? 😇

Well, thank you, Cupcake. That was delicious. I hope you liked the match too. We didn’t get to talk much. I know I fell asleep 🤦‍♂️ I was really happy you were there.

Her heart felt so warm already. Despite how much she didn’t want it to. Thank you for inviting me. Because she was nothing if not polite. It was really exciting! I don’t know much about boxing. But it’s obvious you’re very good—not that you need me to tell you that. Were you really going to make me look like an idiot and not tell me you were undefeated?

You’ll make me blush, Cupcake. Didn’t think you’d come with me if you knew.

Sneaky... 👀

Just... wanted you there, kitten. I promise. Nothing more... I know I came off a little too strong and I know I was a little...pushy. I would have let you go to your store if you really wanted to... But...

The three dots on his message disappeared and reappeared a few times over.It was cute to imagine him holding his phone thinking about what to type, erasing it, typing it again.

I can’t explain it, Cupcake. I’ve been going CRAZY these last two months. Niall’s calling me a stalker and I haven’t even SEEN you. The sentiment doesn’t give her any bad feelings. Because despite how much she wanted to be guarded, especially after her evening, she couldn’t help but believe him. Trust him, implicitly.

I swear something in the universe pulled me to you... I woke up just in time to see you blowing up my phone tonight 😍😍

She snorted and felt her body warm with his kindness, his gentle adoration through her phone no less. You’re insane, Harry Styles.

About you 😍

Oh my God... Now she really was blushing, but she couldn’t help but notice she felt so much better chatting with him. Well... we can talk tomorrow if you want.

Oh?

I’m assuming you’re tired and I’ve already hogged more than enough of your time at midnight, as you pointed out.

Oh, no.

No way, Cupcake. I’ll stay up all night to talk with you ❤

Her heart felt so heavy. It was unfair. How could she be so stupid? Her dad would have killed her for being so naïve. It was his worst fear while she was growing up. It was everything he always talked her through when she was going through puberty and telling her about boys teasing her. Her dad reminded her constantly that a man has no right to make her feel scared or fragile.

But she could feel his grip on her arm trying to coerce her back into his car. She shook her head of the thoughts, refusing to let him poison any more of her time than he had. She was talking to Harry. She was okay. It was alright. It didn’t happen. She got in an Uber, and she’ll never see him again.

Harry was talking to her. Harry made her feel safe. Harry didn’t make her stomach unsettled with a bad gut feeling. Here’s my phone number if you want it.

Within moments, she had a new text message alert. This is better than an undefeated record 😍

The following morning, she felt less terrible about herself and her stupidity, but she never wanted to feel that way again. She was also so tired from texting with Harry for hours. It was nearly three in the morning catching up on all the things he did in the past two months before she wished him a good night. There wasn’t much to report about their lives. They both seemed to be workaholics, but he did offer her some really cute baby pictures of his niece (and a pretty cute picture of Niall falling asleep on Harry’s couch after an intense workout).

While she sipped her coffee—staving off the sleepiness, she Googled self-defense classes. Her dad would have approved. He wanted her to do it back when she was in college, but she refused for whatever reason. She regretted that too.

It was telling that she debated whether she was overreacting for several minutes. If she was overreacting, she would have brushed off the idea of self-defense classes like she did in college. But this wasn’t something to overreact about, right? Before she could overthink it any longer, she paid for the class. Honestly, in that parking lot she was smart to do this. Worst case scenario, for one reason or another, it was the smart decision.

She cycled through the next stage of grief feeling angry and bitter that he made her feel this way. She was incredibly lucky it was raining and slippery and she managed to get away from him in the chilly spring air. He left her so rattled. She was defenseless, so a class was needed.

God, she missed her dad.

Fuck, she missed Harry.

She never wanted to feel that helpless again.

With the class paid for, she put an apron around her waist and headed to the front of A Pinch of Sprinkles and turned the closed sign to open.

The following Monday, after a full day of flour, sugar, and plenty of customers, she headed to the gym.

It felt awkward. She hadn’t been to a gym since her college days, and she was already frustrated from her horrific night out. She and Maeve told each other they would go together but they were terrible influences on one another and opted for shopping trips with the promise they would pretend their shopping bags were dumbbells.

When she arrived, she headed to the front desk and introduced herself. She even admitted she felt awkward and the woman behind the desk smiled encouragingly. “I’m Sarah. Let me show you around,” she came from behind the desk and headed toward the side room. “It’s safe here,” she assured her, like she knew. The assurance made her throat tight with emotion and she nodded stoically. “This is the locker room; you can change in here and you can leave your stuff locked up or in the front cubbies and I can watch it. Whatever makes you more comfortable,” she smiled kindly and glanced her up and down briefly. “Do you own that bakery downtown?”

She smiled and nodded, looking at the flour handprint on the thigh of her pants. “Thought I got all the flour off,” she brushed at it with a chuckle. “Yes, I do.”

“My husband is going to think I met a celebrity today,” she laughed. “We love your blueberry scones. They taste like heaven.”

“Aw, thank you so much, that’s so kind. I’ll bring some next time,” she promised.

“Oh stop, I’ll divorce him,” she laughed and headed back for the front desk.

She quickly changed, feeling safe and relieved once more. She brought her belongings to the front and sat in one of the seats across from Sarah’s desk. “Kickboxing is just wrapping up and your instructors will be right over,” there was a group of several other women milling about. Obviously, they at least knew how to be in a gym by themselves. A few came as a small group. Maybe she should have brought Maeve.

While waiting, she scrolled through emails from her landlord, her college alma mater group, and all the coupons she had ever subscribed to. “I have got to unsubscribe,” she murmured to herself. She scrolled through photos of the beautiful little area she lived in now, and as sad as it was to get here, it was nice. Her shop was nice. Despite how scared she was over the weekend, things were good.

The only thing that wasn’t nice was that stupid, awful man.

“Holy shit, he’s hot,” she heard someone whisper. It was peripheral. She didn’t even register it really because she was sending Maeve a picture of the sale that was happening at their favorite clothing store on Thursday. If she paid attention, she might have noticed sooner.

“Ladies, self-defense class, this way please!” The voice was familiar, but she couldn’t place it. Maeve sent about ten heart eyes to her, and she smiled, stuffed her phone in her bag, and waved to Sarah.

“Blueberry scones,” she repeated with a firm nod and followed the line of women. She sipped from her water taking in the banners around the gym and realized too late why Louis’ voice sounded so familiar.

He stood at the front of the room, along with another familiar face.

“Oh shit,” she whispered to herself and turned immediately back toward the desk.

She bumped into another woman who steadied her and kindly looked her over. “Sorry—are you alright?” she was nearly motherly in her demeanor and her head felt woozy. She couldn’t do this. Harry would know.

Why was Harry attending her self-defense class?

“Yes, yes, sorry,” she shook her head. “Wrong—”

“Hey,” Harry’s voice was right there. She stepped out of the room trying to get more air to her lungs and head.He wasn’t attending. He was teaching. This was his gym. The boxing rings in the main room should have been a clue. The sound of Louis’ voice. Oh, you stupid idiot, her brain scolded.

“Cupcake?” Her head responded to the nickname instinctively. Harry’s suspicious green eyes gazed back at her. “What are you doing here?”

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sinofwriting · 6 months

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It's Like I Don't Know You Anymore - Max Verstappen (& Lewis Hamilton)

Words: 4,816 Summary: Y/N Rosberg, Nico Rosberg’s little sister, returns to the world of F1 after six years away. And she returns in the most unexpected garage. Warning(s)/Note(s): Takes place in 2022, Past Relationship with Lewis Hamilton that involves an age difference of about 11 years. Secret/Private Relationship(s), Smut in the Imola 2022 part

Taglist | Masterlist | Patreon | It's Like I Don't Know You Anymore Verse

Jeddah 2022

Lewis scoffs as he reads the trash article. It was anything but substantial and from a site that was more known for just recirculating already known things in their own words and for the occasional lie to stir up drama.

He had only seen it because he had alerts on his personal phone for her name and he couldn’t help but click on it seeing that it was popping up on an F1 related site. He expected it to be one of those top ten outfit things, he hadn’t expected utter garbage.

He’d know if she was returning to the paddock, he would’ve been told, especially during one of the first few weekends of the new season. The first season since he had won that he won’t have the number one on his car and his jaw clenched at the reminder that he was no longer the current world champion, that he had to stay longer, needed to stay longer. He wanted that eighth championship, and until he got it he was staying, needed to. And this year could be the year, would be the year.

“Have you seen this rubbish?” Lewis asks Toto when he steps out of his driver's room and into the garage. It’s filled with life as everyone gets ready for the first free practice session. Shouts being heard back and forth. The whirring of tools as mechanics make sure they’re all working and where they should be. “What rubbish?” His Austrian accent is thick as it wraps around the words. He glances around, looking for cameras, spotting none, he still lowers his voice. “Y/N,” the name is awkward off his tongue and it makes Toto flinch, no one had called her that, not unless it was for something important, like life or death. “Some blog reported that she’s in Red Bull’s garage.” He laughs. The taller man stills.

Toto after all these years still wasn’t sure what exactly had happened between Mouse and Lewis. He knew what had happened between Nico and Lewis, had tried to fix it, to patch it up, to stay neutral, but his preference for Lewis had been obvious to Nico and the brotherhood that had been so strong, had spanned so many years, ended quicker than it began as the season drew on and the tension got tighter.

And while he hadn’t managed to play middle man without one of them getting mad, shouting, screaming, storming away like a toddler. Mouse had. She had easily gone between the two men as they both threw fits. He still wasn’t sure how the girl had done it, barely an adult, but dealing with two grown men, but she had and handled it like a champ. Toto had never been allowed to hold Nico’s trophy like Lewis had allowed him to when he had won before, but he knew and had seen how Nico let her hold. As if it was not just his but hers as well.

Toto had expected when the 2017 season started even with Nico, leaving, retiring, for her to come anyways. Had set aside passes for her, made sure that she was in the system to be allowed in despite knowing that she would show up with Lewis, because that’s how it had always been. If she wasn’t showing up with her brother, she was showing up with Lewis. But she was a no show and when he tried to reach out, he was blocked.

She went full no contact with everyone in the racing world and at first Toto had thought that maybe something serious had happened, but she was still posting on her blog, though there was a distinct lack of F1, she just wasn’t talking to him. He could still remember the swell of anger that came over and then the shame that had quickly followed. How he had gone to Lewis to ask if she was alright, if she was mad at him, mad at Mercedes, only for Lewis to flinch, to shake his head. Telling him that he hadn’t heard from her or seen since the day after Nico won his championship. He could still feel the bitterness that rolled off of Lewis’ tongue as he said that none of the Rosberg’s were talking to him.

“It’s not rubbish.” Toto manages to say after a moment, trying to push back the memories, the grief of no longer getting to see Mouse grow up, because god she had just turned twenty-six and the last time he had seen her, she was twenty, still a child in many ways. “She is at Red Bull’s garage.” “What?” “She showed up after all the drivers did, waited I think, and made her appearance. Went straight to Red Bull. She had passes.” “She’s never liked Red Bull.” “You’ve never liked Red Bull.” Toto corrects.

It was a thing that had frustrated much of the Mercedes team, how despite himself, Nico, and Lewis despising Red Bull, she still liked them, would pop into their garage, chat with their drivers, mechanics, engineers, and such. Toto nearly had an aneurysm the first time he saw her and Horner talking.

“Doesn’t make sense.” “No it doesn’t.”

—

“Red Bull, huh? Naughty, naughty girl.” He clicks his tongue. She rolls her eyes, “You already knew that I was going there.” He laughs, “Doesn’t mean I can’t tease you about it.” “Was there a reason you called, Nico?” “What? I can’t check in on my sister?” She rolls her eyes again, but grins. “I just wanted to make sure that nothing happened.” “Lewis didn’t try to talk to me or at least not that I know of.” It was easy to read between the lines with Nico. “I stayed at Red Bull, in their garage, no one but Red Bull personnel came close to me.” “And you still want to do this?” “Yes.” Her voice is soft and she sits on the hotel bed, crossing her ankles. “I’ve missed it, the sport, the paddock, it’s nice to be back.” “And Mercedes?” “I have no interest in talking to anyone at Mercedes, past or present. They don’t matter, not anymore.” “Mouse. You will be careful, yes? I’m not there anymore.” “Careful as can be.”

Australia 2022

He expects her to be at the next race in Australia and he doesn’t know why. It had been one of the races she was always willing to miss as she hated flying there. Not feeling it was worth it.

So he pretends not to be disappointed when no photos of her arriving popping up, not even whispers of rumors of her sneaking in which he wouldn’t believe in the first place. The idea of her sneaking into a race made him scoff. It wasn’t her, that wasn’t how she operated. He knew her, knew she liked the attention of arriving at the races just like he did. He also pretends that it doesn’t hurt to think about how they used to show up together to races.

Imola 2022

“You’re going to win.” She soothes, rubbing his shoulders and he can’t help but let them drop, let her loosen the tension in them. “I retired from the last race.” “And that was the last race.” He wants to deny it, there’s still that feeling that settles at the bottom of his stomach when he doesn’t win, when he isn’t on the podium, in the points. But it’s lessened as he’s been with her. “And tell me, Schat.” He grabs at her hand, gently pulling her until she’s in front of him, standing between his legs. “Will I just win the GP or also the sprint?” She smiles and he can feel his heartbeat quicken. “Both.” She tells him, resting her hands on his face and letting their lips brush together. “You’ll win both, Max.”

He wins the sprint and then the GP and he’s thankful that she isn’t out with the rest of the team when he’s on the podium, that she stayed in his drivers room, waiting for him. Because he knows that if she had, he would’ve ruined their plans of staying private, secret. He would have kissed her, told her that she did it, she told him he was going to win, so he did. He won both of them for her.

Max does tell her that. He tells her that in between champagne flavored kisses, along with thanks and murmurs of his love against her skin as she sighs and tugs at his nomex.

“I could win every race this season with you supporting me, Schat.” His breathing is heavy, he’s in between her thighs, racesuit and nomex just tugged down enough for his dick to be free, ass exposed. She hadn’t protested, but moaned when he ripped through her tights that she was wearing underneath her skirt, and moaned again when he moved her underwear to the side. Rubbing at her clit to get her wet as he quickly prepped her before sinking into her. He repeats it as he thrusts inside her, high on not the two wins, but on her, on her support, her belief. “You're my lucky charm.” She freezes around him, her moans tapering off and he curses as he realizes what he said. “I’m sorry.” He murmurs, lips against her forehead. “I did not mean.” “I know.” She sounds sure, truthful, but her legs that had been tight around him, heels digging into him, have loosened.

“If I don’t win a race that is my fault or the teams. It is not yours.” He tells her. She nods but doesn’t look at him. “Schat.” He holds her chin between two fingers, holding eye contact with her. “You are my lucky charm. Not because I think I will win races because of you and your support. Because you make even the races I don’t win feel okay, like I haven’t failed.” “You haven’t failed.” She immediately says frowning and her legs are tightening back up around him. “You can’t win every race no matter how good luck it looks on you.” He flushes at her words. “I know you are different from him. You have shown that already.” She struggles with the next words. “I just don’t think I can handle being called a lucky charm yet.” “Then I won’t.” He tells her. She blinks at him, at how easy he said, at simple he’s making it. “But you said.” “Yes.” He shrugs, shifting his weight and they both hiss at how his body moves from it, both having forgotten that he was still inside her. But he pushes his building arousal away. “But I won’t say it any more. Not if it makes you uncomfortable.” She stares at him for a few seconds before smiling. “Ik houd van je Max.” He smiles back at her, kissing her. “Ik houd van je, Schat.”

He goes to pull out, unable to ignore the arousal building in him anymore, but not wanting her to feel like they need to have sex, but her heels are pressing into him, thighs tightening around him.

“Fuck me, Max.” He says her name, quiet and with wide eyes. She moves her hips and he follows them with a snap of his own. “You won two races.” She murmurs, breathing tickling his lips before she’s placing her lips on his jaw, moving them down to his neck. “Fuck me, Max. I want you to. Want to celebrate with you like this.”

She’s sucking a mark into his skin and he’s choking down a groan. “Just us two, our own quick celebration before you have to go with your team. Before I’m left all alone in our hotel room.” He starts to thrust again, pressing his lips against hers before she can say anything else, before he really leaves any earlier than he was already planning to at the dinner celebration the team was holding.

As he continues to thrust into her, his lips stay against hers, muffling both of their sounds, but as he feels his balls tightening, he breaks them apart, pressing her face into his neck, encouraging her to bite at him as his other hand goes between their bodies, to her clit.

The bite of hers against his collarbone when she clenches around him, cumming, has him hissing. He stills his hips as she comes down from her orgasm, still rubbing at her clit, but more gently.

“Where do you want it?” He asks, when she bats his hand away from her and presses for him to continue to rock into her body. His orgasm is quickly approaching and really he should be pulling out, just finish in his own hand in case he finishes inside her before she says it's okay. But she’s tight and warm and feels too good. “Do you want it in your mouth? Want me to pull out? Finish in my hand, feed it to you?” She moans at his words, at the thing they’ve done once before. “Or do you want me to leave you something? Cum inside you and have you feel it drip out, go back to the hotel with just your underwear stopping it from dripping down your leg and ruining your tights.” “Inside Max. Please, inside me.” He groans at her words, hips speeding up. He only manages a few solid thrusts before he’s shuddering, pressing as close as he can as cums inside her, muffling a moan against her shoulder.

His hips twitch a little in the aftershocks of his orgasm as he pants against her shoulder.

“You’re going to kill me.” “With what?” She laughs. “Orgasms?” “With your dirty little mind.” He tells her, slowly pulling out, rubbing at her thighs as he does. She laughs again and he smiles at how her whole face lights up.

Miami 2023

It’s Miami. It’s extravagant. It's the first race at the new circuit. It’s her.

She’s dressed in a soft color, bringing out her eyes. She’s wearing the bracelet he gave her when she turned fourteen, the ring her father gave her that once belonged to her grandmother. She’s not wearing the necklace he gave her when she turned eighteen. It’s back in Monaco, still sitting on the nightstand of what’s still her side of the bed.

She has new bracelets, rings, and a new necklace. The necklace makes his jaw clench, fists tighten. He had never thought to consider that maybe she’d be with someone else after all these years. He hadn’t, not for anything more than one night.

Lewis stares at the clasp of her necklace. Wonders if it’s worth anywhere near what he gave her. Wonders who gave it to her. Some boy with a trust fund? Some guy that managed to make it to the top not because of hard work but because of connections?

He doesn’t know and it burns alongside the anger. He used to know nearly everything about her and he still knows her, he just doesn’t know the new things and that hurts worse than not knowing her at all anymore.

He watches as Geri fixes the necklace for her and wonders when exactly she got so close to Horner’s wife. “Where exactly did you get this darling?” She glows at the name, “From a jeweler that Nico loves. I can never remember the name.” The burning inside him vanishes at his name. Something had changed, he knew something new about her. Necklaces were no longer just things she wore from significant others.

Spain 2022

He cocks an eyebrow as George comes up to him nervously, messing with his hands. “You alright?” “Yeah, I just heard a weird rumor.” His eyes dart away and George hates that Toto is making him do this but doesn’t want to think about why, can feel the headache from just imagining thinking about the why. “What did you hear?” “Apparently, Y/N Rosberg,” Lewis stills at her name and curiosity clutches at George before he pushes down and away. “got snuck into the Red Bull garage.” The older man immediately scoffs. “Yeah, right. She likes arriving at the races.” He raises his hands, “that’s just what I heard.” “Well, it’s wrong. A shit rumor. Anyone who knows Mouse,” the nickname leaves his mouth before he can think, can stop it, “knows that she loves arriving on a race weekend, all the cameras, getting to show off whatever outfit she put together.” “Just what I heard, mate.” George repeats, before quickly retreating, cursing Toto out underneath his breath as soon as he rounds the corner and is far away from Lewis.

Monaco 2022

She’s not at Monaco. She’s not at Monaco. The words are on repeat in his head. He doesn’t understand it. She lived here or maybe had lived here. Monaco was small, it was hard to imagine that he had never run into her since the end of 2016 but then again he managed to dodge him. So it was possible.

He just didn’t like the idea of it. That if she still lived here that she had made sure to dodge him, to make sure they never ran into each other.

Austria 2022

She doesn’t show up at Baku, her favorite circuit, Montreal, or Silverstone, but she’s here at Austria. He can’t make sense of why she’s showing up at the races she is. Can’t make sense of why it’s only Red Bull’s garage that she visits.

It’s driving him insane trying to make sense of it. Just like he can’t make sense of another rumor that she sneaked into watch the race in Baku. This one hadn’t been quiet though from George. It had made its run on twitter and instagram, though most fans of hers just like him, knew that they were false. Her blog was still full of talking about how much she loved showing up at race weekends, feeling the energy, interacting with fans, even if they were years old. It was telling that she never deleted them. And he knew that she’d never sneak into a race.

July 2015

“Lew?” Her voice is quiet, barely a whisper, as if she’s afraid he fell asleep. He makes a humming noise, keeping his eyes closed but pressing his fingers a bit more into her back as they dance along her spine. “When do you stop?” He frowns at the vague question, eyes blinking open. “Stop what?” “When did you stop seeing me as Nico’s sister? As a kid?” His fingers pause as he thinks about her questions, wonders if he really wants to tell her, really wants her to know. He takes a deep breath, in and out of the nose before letting his fingers continue to dance. “As Nico’s sister? Probably around 2011 and Nico wasn’t hiding you away from everyone as much. I still see you a bit as his sister, don’t know if that will ever change.” She nods, “and as a kid?” “December 2013.” He’s just happy that he doesn’t remember the day. “Nicole and I joined Nico, Viv and you on that yacht.” She makes a humming noise, curling closer to him. “Nicole noticed actually.” And he has to chuckle remembering his then girlfriend's reaction. “She hadn’t seen you for a few months and had never seen you like that. Told me that I’d have to help Nico out with keeping guys like us away from you.” She huffs out a laugh, but doesn’t say anything, sensing that he’s not done. “She said that and I looked and suddenly you weren’t five years old content only in Nico’s arms, or ten crying because Keke and Nico were leaving without you again. You had grown and you were fucking gorgeous.” She stares at him, unsure of what to make of what he just told her. Not sure how she felt that it was Nicole that had made him realize that she wasn’t a little girl anymore. “You know,” she starts. “I had boobs way before I was seventeen.” Lewis sputters out a laugh and she laughs as well. “Well, I wasn’t looking.” She shakes her head, before tucking it into the crook of his neck. “No, just waited until I was a month away from being legal.” “Yeah and I waited longer to do anything about it.” “Not that much longer.” She mumbles, grinning against his skin when he pinches at her.

Spa 2022 They're making a statement, not one that says much, her prior years coming to so many races and being friendly with drivers preventing that, but it’s still a statement.

It’s the second race since she’s returned instead of arriving before all the drivers or after when making an appearance in front of the cameras that she arrives when they are. More importantly she’s arrived with Max. She’s not on his arm or holding his hand, there’s a well kept distance between them. One that reads friendly, close, but not intimate. She wasn’t quite ready to go public with him, but she was willing to make it known that she and Max were friendly with each other.

“It’s nice having you here.” She smiles at Sophie, taking her eyes briefly off the little boy in her arms. “It’s nice being here.” The couch sinks next to her and she leans into Max as he wraps an arm around her shoulder, dropping a kiss to her temple. “Looks good on you.” He murmurs, smiling at his nephew in her arms. “A baby? Or a baby that looks identical to you?” “Well I’d much prefer one that looks like both of us.” She sends him a look, but can’t not smile at his words. “Sap.” “Just for you.”

Two days later she sits in a garage for the first time in years during a race and she remembers how much she loved it. There was nothing better than watching a race from the garage.

She watches as Max manages to recover from his grid penalty, making his way through the field and winning the race and she cheers with the rest of the garage, hugs everyone she can reach. As everyone runs out to greet Max, to watch as he celebrates his win, she stays.

Max didn’t have any impulse control when high on adrenaline, she knew exactly what would happen if she went out there with him, so she went back to his driver's room and waits for him.

Dutch 2023

“Mouse!” Lewis calls and he watches as she stills while Horner stiffens at the name. It makes him itch. Horner and the rest of Red Bull had always been the odd ones out, never calling her Mouse, but rather her name or girly, the last she took a shining to.

He could still remember the first time they had heard Horner call her that. He had been ready to punch him, but she had beamed at the team principal, jumping up to give him a hug and asking him about his wife.

“Lewis.” Her voice is cool and he nearly flinches at her calling him Lewis. He had never been Lewis to her, always Lew. “How have you been? It’s been awhile.” Nearly six years, he thinks but doesn’t say. “Good. So has Nico.” He flinches at his name. “Good.” His voice is quiet. “That’s good.”

Horner wraps an arm around her shoulders, “Let’s go. We’re going to be late.” She nods and doesn’t even glance at him as she and Horner walk away, leaving him looking after her with despair and grief threatening to swallow him whole.

Japan 2022

He watches as she looks at Max with tears in her eyes as the Red Bull crew cheer as Max gives his post race interview, smiling as he thanks the fans, smiling because he won his second championship.

As soon as the interview is done, he’s launching himself back into the arms of the Red Bull crew, they all easily take his weight, patting him on the back, cheering for him. And then he watches when as soon as they release him, Max sees her. His eyes going wide with surprise at seeing her.

Lewis watches as she leans as far over the barrier as she can, wrapping her arms around his neck as his go around her waist to hold her. He watches but nothing prepares him for what happens next, the pain that strikes his heart. Because suddenly she’s kissing him, tears running down her face and Max is kissing her back like he’s done it a hundred times.

He doesn’t hear it or see it, but one of Red Bull’s cameras does and it makes it into their video to celebrate Max winning his second championship. Her saying that she’s so proud of him, never been prouder, and that she loves him and the easy way Max says it back, no hesitation.

It’s that, not her kissing Max in front of seemingly the whole world, that makes him realize that the future he had imagined, the image of her that was still the nineteen year old girl he fell in love with, is gone and has been since the night that Nico won his championship and when she came to comfort him, he only had harsh and degrading words for her.

They never could have been together again after his accusations of her feeding Nico information, blaming her for his lack of winning because she wasn’t supportive enough, his accusation of the lucky charm she was supposed to be was nothing but bad luck just like she was and always had been.

He had deluded himself into thinking that they still would end up together, that her being the love of his life, meant that he was also hers. He’s deluded himself for almost six years and now it’s not just heartbreak that fills him but shame and guilt. Because how could he have ever thought she’d want to be with him again when he never even tried to offer her an apology or to tell anyone about her.

@cixrosie @darleneslane @fanboyluvr @quackquackhun @crystals-faith @andreea-15-25 @rewmuslupin @copper-boom @stopeatread @crashingwavesofeuphoria @gemofthenight @peachiicherries @lpab @topguncultleader @iloveyou3000morgan @benstormy @elliegrey2803

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 x reader #max verstappen imagine #lewis hamilton imagine #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen smut #f1 smut #idkya verse

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𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐮𝐞 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐧 .ೃ࿐

𝐩𝐫𝐨 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐨!𝐛𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐠𝐨𝐮 𝐱 𝐩𝐫𝐨 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐨!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 2.4k words; aphrodisiac accident, explicit smut, no reader pronouns but “pussy”, “clit” and “cunt” are used, pussy slapping, slight overstimulation, some plot, some fluff

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: first full one-shot! bakugou seemed like the right choice since his birthday just passed. manga cap colored by moi ( ᐛ )و plspls tell me what you think of my writing! i’ll really appreciate you!

𝐒𝐨 stupid.

You can’t believe you had forgotten to update such critical information—paperwork you had filled out nearly ten years ago that you simply never thought to return to, never remembered to return to.

Now your reminder has arrived (too late) and is standing in front of you with a deep frown etched into his features as he examines you from across the hospital room.

“M’sorry,” you breathe heavily, “you don’t have to stay.”

Bakugou doesn’t move aside from crossing his arms over his chest and making his quintessential mocking “tch.”

Dabbing your forehead with the wet rag you’ve been clutching for dear life, you try again. “No, it’s okay, I’ll be fine.” Nevermind the fact that it feels like your skin is on fire, and your blood is bubbling with need.

Fucking aphrodisiac quirks. Every hero knows to beware of them despite how rare they are, but after avoiding such a quirk for years, the warning turned into more of a myth in your head, even with the waivers and emergency contacts you’ve filled out in the past—one packet while you were still at UA (in which you listed your best friend as your ‘rescue partner’) then again at your first real agency job.

“Just list me, I don’t care,” the Dynamight had waved off. “Those quirks are so fuckin’ rare you’ll probably never run into one.”

So you put your fucking boss down on the paper like an idiot, and he scribbled his messy signature like an idiot, and then you both promptly forgot about the exchange until right this moment.

“Don’t be stupid,” Bakugou huffs in front of you, finally walking to you and snatching the rag out of your hand to wet it with colder water in the sink.

It’s been a couple years since you’ve seen each other in person aside from tense, fleeting moments during missions. He’s still attractive as ever, still gives you butterflies like when you originally worked for him, like when you used to ogle him through the TV in your early teen years.

He’s in his thirties now, and though his hero costume hasn’t changed much over the years, he fills more of it out—specialty spark-proof shirt sticking to every dip and curve of muscle, gauntlets looking less humongous where they hang under impressive biceps. He slips said gauntlets off and gently sets them on the stiff hospital couch then moves back to you and places the wet rag on the back of your neck.

If you weren’t so distracted, you’d be surprised at his composure, especially since you didn’t actually leave his agency on the best of terms. There had been a… disagreement about a promotion that resulted in you packing up your desk and storming out, not caring about the bridges you would burn by doing so. To add insult to injury, you ended up at one of his best friend’s agencies working under Chargebolt.

You expect Bakugou to bring it up and get mad, scold you for making such a rash decision (like he doesn’t do the same thing), but he doesn’t. All he does is sigh and mumble, “how’d you even get in this mess, ya’ dumbass?”

It makes you laugh which makes you cramp and throb between your legs. You aren’t sure how long you’ll be able to stand the small talk, though the cool water dripping down your back helps alleviate some of the heat.

“Seemed like a typical smash n’ grab,” you tell him, clenching your jaw when you feel his bare fingers graze your hairline. “Was not typical, it turns out. Guy got away with a bunch of jewelry and I got away with…”

“A need to fuck?” Bakugou snorts.

Your run your hands down your face while whining, “don’t say it like thaaaaat,” because it’s embarrassing.

“Why? That’s what it is? You got hit with a quirk that makes ya’ need dick.”

His tone is amused but it still goes right to your pussy.

“I don’t need dick,” you argue. “The effects will wear off on their own.”

“Yeah, but it’ll probably take longer.”

You watch as he bends at the waist to unlace his boots and take them off. He unbuckles his belt next, unbuttons his pants, and you’re swallowing excess saliva at the thought of what will happen next.

It’s Bakugou. Murder God Dynamight. Your old boss who you sort of fucked over. The idea of being so vulnerable with him nauseates you, but… he’s here, and he’s undressing, and he’s peering at you like he has no qualms whatsoever.

Your head is screaming at you to shoo him away, but your cunt is leaking with arousal, insides pulsing in time with your heartbeat, and you just don’t have the willpower to deny yourself the relief that he will surely grant you.

“Fine. Just know that I know this is a dumb idea.”

“You’re the one who didn’t fill out new paperwork,” he reminds while peeling off his shirt. “Take your clothes off, idiot.”

You roll your eyes but also obey without protest. “I see you’re still sweet as ever.”

All of your clothes are damp with sweat as you take them off and fling them somewhere. At this stage of a hookup, you're usually a little shy, wanting to cover yourself back up, but you’re not operating at full capacity as of now. There’s no room for shyness.

A lot of pro heroes have merchandise that goes far past t-shirts and keychains, and Dynamight is no exception. You don’t know how many “replica” dildos you’ve seen online and in sex shops, and though many of them are appealing, none come close to the real thing.

Bakugou has a fat cock, mushroom-shaped head leaking with translucent precum. A vein pops and curves up the side like a river that accentuates his girth. A gradient from pale to angry pink, it might be the prettiest dick you’ve ever seen, though that could be the aphrodisiac quirk talking. His is the kind of cock you want to suck, the kind you’d happily let bully your throat open. More than that, though, you want it inside of you. You want it to make you cum.

You reach out to grab him, but Bakugou steps just out of reach with a wicked smirk on his face.

“Nuh uh,” he shakes his head. “Gotta show me that pussy first.”

Your vision tunnels from the lust that overwhelms you, and you throw yourself onto your back hastily, shamelessly spreading your legs in both display and invitation. You don’t have to see yourself to know how pathetic you look, sweating and panting, thighs already trembling as slick leaks from your hole in thick globs. You’ve never felt this kind of desperation before, and now you truly understand why heroes are warned so heavily about these quirks.

“Fuck me,” Bakugou exhales, sliding to his knees and bending forward to press his face between your legs. At first all he does is breathe in deeply. You would blush if you weren’t in such a state, but the action only turns you on more.

A tongue traces from your hole to your clit, parting your lips and gathering your arousal with each pass.

“Bakugou,” you whimper, wiggling your hips wantonly.

“Shh, lemme make you feel good,” he rumbles.

Tears pool behind your closed eyelids, and you plead with him, “wanna feel good with your cock, pleeease.”

You feel his derisive exhale more than hear it, but as he rises and gets on the bed you definitely hear the words, “greedy brat,” leave his mouth.

Your back arches like your possessed when Bakugou guides his thick cock into your hole, gummy walls sucking him in until his tip is kissing your cervix. You need to be fucked now, need him to fuck you and fill you with his cum over and over again, “please, Kat…” you sob, falling into old habits of when you considered each other friends.

“I’ve got ya’, sweetheart,” he promises, slowly thrusting. “M’right here.”

He feels so good, sliding in and out of you and making a home of your insides. You feel him in your stomach, in your chest, and your heart starts beating too fast when you lock eyes with him.

“Ready for more?” he asks.

“Yeah, yesyes, please.”

Without any further warning, Bakugou manipulates your legs so that they’re pressed to your chest, knees parallel to your ears. Your eyes roll with the new angle, spongy tissue massaged in just the right way, and when Bakugou realizes he’s hitting the right spot, he starts snapping his hips harder and faster.

You’re full-on crying now, a steady stream of tears dripping from your eyes, but you’re smiling, begging, thanking whatever god there is that Bakugou is here and taking away your pain.

Your pussy squelches with every thrust, wetness splashing between your bodies, creating a tacky mess all over thighs and pelvises.

“Feel good, baby,” he tells you, and his own eyes are cloudy, lips parted and just asking to be nipped. So you lean up as well as you can, grabbing him by the hair at the back of his head, and kiss him sloppily.

Bakugou groans, rhythm faltering as he shoves his tongue in your mouth. It feels like you can’t breathe anything but him. He’s filling every inch of you, invading every sense. He smells like gunpowder, tastes like caramel, and feels like a body of divinity.

“S’your pussy always this creamy or is it just for me?” he growls, letting go of one of your legs so he can slide a finger alongside his cock, thoroughly coating it in your juices then pulling it out to show you.

“Quirk,” you gasp. It has to be, right? You can’t be this out of your mind for Bakugou, can you?

“Oh yeah?” he starts tapping your clit with his fingers, growing a little more aggressive with each hit until he’s slapping your swollen bud.

“Just the quirk, huh? This pussy squirting ‘cause of the quirk too?” He rubs over the slick bundle rapidly, overstimulating you until your body pushes out a geyser of squirt that soaks Bakugou’s toned chest. He resumes slapping your pussy, making you jerk beneath him, and keeps up the ruthless cycle until the bedsheets are drenched and you’re babbling a confession, “it’s you, always you, wanted you for so long, Kat…”

“Yeah, that’s what I wanted to hear,” he tells you approvingly as he starts fucking into you again.

Your walls swell around his cock, spasming with an impending orgasm. Bakugou keeps drilling into you, spewing filth right in your ear, breath hotter with every taunt.

“You wanted this cock so bad, yeah? That why you left me?”

You shake your head, jaw falling open as your climax builds.

“Wanted me to fuck your little pussy but didn’t know how to ask? Well, I am now,” he continues, “finally gonna fill you up like I’ve wanted to.”

Your breath is pushed from your lungs in a long moan when it hits you, puffy cunt gushing around Bakugou and milking his own orgasm from him, hot cum painting your insides and slowly oozing from your loosened hole.

You’ve heard that with many aphrodisiac quirks it takes more than just one sexual cycle to get it all out of your system—multiple phases of excitement, multiple plateaus, multiple orgasms, and multiple resolutions.

But sometimes one is enough. If the cycle is strong enough and your body releases enough…

“God, I feel so much better,” you say, chest rising and falling with each deep breath. “Thank you.”

Bakugou pulls out and rolls onto the bed next to you, also breathing heavily. Though still hard, you know his cock is spent, slowly softening where it glistens with the mixture of fluids. He doesn’t say anything, just nods.

You figure he’ll catch his breath then get up and leave, remind you to change your emergency contact.

But after several minutes of post-orgasm bliss, he pipes up in his gruff voice, “so why did you leave like you did?”

It’s not really what you feel like talking about, but you kind of owe him. Plus, the answer is pretty simple.

“You already know. I was angry about being passed up for the promotion,” you sigh. “I thought I was doing pretty well as an intermediate sidekick, but… guess not.”

“Nah, you were doin’ great. You did well with me and all the other pros.”

You glance over at him with narrowed eyes. “Then why’d flaming pubes get the promotion?” you think back to the new sidekick bitterly.

Bakugou opens his mouth but immediately closes it again. Sits up, hunches forward, drags a hand down his face.

“Kat… why?”

“Cause I didn’t want you on crazy fucked up sites,” he tells you, voice too loud. “I’d seen you cry during rescue missions and didn’t like it, and you split your fuckin’ head open on the Dark Shot mission, and I didn’t like worrying about you!”

You stare at him in bewilderment. He was… trying to protect you?

“You would rather some freshly graduated sidekick die than me?”

“I don’t want anyone to die, but least of all you.” He heaves a shaky breath, hands shooting out like they’ll help him explain himself better. “You were a distraction for me! If I could keep you even a little bit safe, I could keep doing my job right.”

Your head is clearing. You’re still foggy from your orgasm, but at least you’re no longer sex-crazed.

“So, what are you saying exactly?”

“Dude, don’t play stupid,” he snarks, but you can see the plea in his crimson gaze: don’t make me say it.

Fighting a smile, you decide not to tease.

“Well, if it’s any consolation, I was distracted the entire time I worked for you. Crushing on your boss is hard.”

A faint blush reddens his cheeks as he mutters, “yeah, so’s crushing on your god damn employee. Felt like some school boy bitch.”

“Is that why you saved me today then? Get what you used to think about all the time?” you smile.

“No. I saved you ‘cause I signed my name on a legal fucking document.”

The very beginnings of disappointment rise in your chest, but before they can fully bloom, Bakugo leans over and kisses you. Much softer than what you had initiated while in the throes of passion. His lips are gentle, moving in sync with yours. There’s no tongue, no urgency, just pure satisfaction and contentment that makes you melt.

“Getting to do that is a pretty big plus, though.”

2023 ©️ shidou-x. Please don’t plagiarize or repost my works to other platforms.

#bakugou x reader #bakugou x you #bakugou smut #bnha x reader #bnha x you

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gaargoyle · 1 month

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My current much-loved possession, an original 1993 copy of Space Marine. I wanted it for its lovely cover, mostly, (also physical media is supreme) even though it's seen better days. The pretty foil lettering has worn away in spots.

Inside is the timeline that was canon in 1993. You can still get this book today digitally, but I do not know if they include a timeline with it still, and if they do, if they kept it as it was for posterity or made updates.

Transcribed below!

A TIMELINE FOR THE WARHAMMER 40,000 UNIVERSE

15th Millennium - Humanity begins to colonise nearby solar systems using conventional sub-light spacecraft. At first, progress is painfully slow. Separated from Terra by up to ten generations in travel time, the new colonies have to survive mainly on local resources.

The Dark Age of Technology

20th Millennium - Discovery of warp drives accelerates the colonisation process and the early independent or corporate colonies become federated to Terra. The first alien races (including the ubiquitous Orks) are encountered. The development of the Navigator gene allows human pilots to make longer and faster 'jumps' through warp space than was previously thought possible. The great Navigator families, initially controlled by industrial and trading cartels, become a power base in their own right.

Humanity continues to explore and colonise the galaxy. Contacts are established with the Eldar and other alien races. A golden age of scientific achievement begins. Perfection of the Standard Template Construct (STC) system now permits an almost explosive expansion to the stars.

The Age of Strife

25th Millennium - Humanity reaches the far edges of the galaxy, completing the push to the stars begun over ten thousand years before. Human civilisation is now widely dispersed and divergent - with countless small colonies as well as many large, overpopulated planets. Localised wars and disputes with various alien races (especially the Orks!) continue, but pose no threat to the overall stability of human-colonised space. Then, two things happen almost simultaneously. First, humans with psychic powers begin to appear on almost every colonised world. Second, civilisation starts to disintegrate under the stress of widespread insanity, demonic possession, and internecine strife between these new 'psykers' and the rest of humanity. Countless fanatical cults and organisations spring up to persecute the psykers as witches, and/or degenerate mutants. At this time, the existence of the creatures of the warp (later known and feared as demons), and the dangers they pose to the human mind with newly awakened psychic powers, is far from understood.

Terrible wars tear human civilisation apart. Localised empires and factions fight amongst themselves as well as against fleets of Orks, Tyrannids [sic], and other aliens whose forces are quick to seize the opportunity to sack human space. Many worlds fall prey to the dominance of Warp Creatures whilst others revert to barbarism. Humans survive only on those worlds where psykers are suppressed or controlled. During this time, Terra is cut off from the rest of humanity by terrible warp storms, which isolate the home world for several thousand years, further accelerating the ruin of humanity.

The Horus Heresy

30th Millennium - Humanity itself teeters on the brink of the abyss of extinction. Civil war erupts throughout the galaxy as the Emperor of human space is betrayed by his most trusted lieutenant, the Warmaster Horus. Possessed by a demon from the warp, Horus seduces whole chapters of humanity's greatest warriors - the Space Marines - into joining his cause. When the final battle seems lost, the Emperor defeats Horus in single combat, but only at the cost of his own humanity.

His physical life maintained by artificial means, and his psyche by human sacrifice, the Emperor begins the long task of reconquering human space. With the creation by the Emperor of the psychic navigational beacon known as the Astronomican, the foundations are laid for the building of the Imperium, as it to be known in the 41st millennium. Fuelled by the dying spirits of those psykers who would otherwise fall prey to the demons of the warp, and directed by the Emperor's indomitable will, the Astronomican soon becomes an invaluable aid to Navigators throughout the galaxy. Interstellar travel becomes even easier and quicker, while the repression and control of psykers and creatures from the warp releases much of humanity from its hellish bondage.

The Age of the Imperium

41st Millennium - Throughout the portion of the galaxy known as the Imperium, humanity is bound within the organisations and strictures of the Administratum. The Emperor grows ever more detached from the day to day concerns of his mortal subjects, while the Inquisition works ceaselessly to protect humanity from the ever-present dangers posed by renegade psykers and the terrible creatures inhabiting warp space. The armies of the Imperium - the Guard and the almost superhuman Space Marines - maintain a constant vigil against the threat of invading Orks, Tyrannids [sic] and other aliens. But still the number of psykers increases steadily, and other more sinister groups associated with Warp Creature domination continue to gain ground...

#warhammer 40000 #warhammer 40k #wh40k #space marine #I hope someone else also finds this mildly interesting

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suashii · 10 months

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୨♡୧ DRUNKEN CONFESSION — geto suguru x reader. sfw. fluff. college au. reader is intoxicated. lots of flirting + kinda self-indulgent.

never in a million years would you have imagined walking side-by-side with geto like this. the man is practically a celebrity at your school—chased after and envied. and, like it’s normal, he’s here beside you. not as discreetly as you think, you spare him a glance out of the corner of your eye.

you had accidentally bumped into him earlier, the collision resulting in a good majority of the contents of your cup ending up on his shirt. profuse, slurred apologies fell from your mouth, but he didn’t seem to mind much about his ruined garment—in fact, he was more concerned about you. so much so that he had been kind enough to offer to walk you home.

thinking back on it now, it was a rather impulsive decision to leave without the group you arrived with, and with a guy you’ve spoken to no more than ten times, at that. but no one’s known for making particularly good decisions while under the influence, right? and, you were smart enough to shoot your friends a text explaining your whereabouts in (what you hoped was) the unlikely event that your choice to take geto up on his offer turned out to be a bad one.

although, that much didn’t seem like it would be the case; he’s been a perfect gentleman thus far—leaving a fair amount of space between the two of you and only letting his hand ghost over the small of your back during those moments when you seem unsteady. you should be thankful that he’s so chivalrous, and you are, but a little part of you, one swayed by the alcohol in your system, was hoping he’d be a little more touchy. nothing inappropriate, just an arm around your shoulder or some simple hand-holding.

you look at geto again, more directly this time. his chocolatey eyes are focused forward and the moonlight glints off the two silver hoops wrapped around his lips. you’ve always found him pretty, but the gentle aura of the night makes his beauty seem even more delicate.

you’re positive you would have ended up staring at him for the rest of the walk if it weren’t for your foot catching on the sudden rise of the sidewalk.

before you’re able to trip forward and make contact with the pavement, geto’s hands are on your hips, firmly pulling your figure against him. “woah, careful there.”

“sorry!” you apologize, wriggling out of his hold so you can turn to face him. he doesn’t look the slightest bit annoyed, in fact, there’s a soft smile tugging at his lips. if you were sober, you’d be capable of picking up on the humor hiding in it.

“it’s fine,” he assures you. you’ve been swaying since you two crossed paths at the party and geto has a hard time believing that’ll wear off any time soon.

“we still have a while ‘til we get to your place,” geto’s voice trails off with the last word as he turns around and crouches. you wordlessly stare at his back until he looks over his shoulder, raising his eyebrows. upon seeing your confusion, he spells it out for you. “hop on.”

“are you sure?” you ask him. “i can walk.”

geto’s is sure that statement isn’t true. “yeah, get on.”

you fight the smile threatening your lips as you climb onto his back, your arms loosely wrapping around his neck, wrists crossing at his collarbone. long legs boost the both of you up and geto’s arms snake under the backs of your knees before he sets off in the direction you’d been walking.

the cool breeze is even more evident against the warmth of your cheeks. this is a new proximity, one you haven’t been warranted before. you can feel the bit of skin exposed from beneath his t-shirt against your forearms, see the scrunchie holding the top half of his hair up in its bun. the scent of his shampoo—coconut, you think— wafts through the air, pleasantly meeting your nostrils. it’s hypnotizing, drawing words out of you that you certainly wouldn’t voice if you were sober. “you know, i’ve never really liked guys with long hair.”

he can’t conceal the snort that sounds in the night air. “is that so?”

you hum in confirmation, nodding your head despite geto not being able to see you. the rational part of your brain that would normally urge you to shut up isn’t functioning at the moment, so you continue. “but i like yours. it’s kind of hot.”

geto’s lips wobble in an attempt to hold back his laugh. alcohol makes you bold, huh? on the few occasions you two have interacted in the past, you were never this forward. geto has an eye for picking out those who are interested in him—they don’t make it hard. though, you completely slipped past his radar.

“you think?” he asks through a chuckle.

“yup,” you reply, popping the “p.” there’s no end to your vomit of words. once you’ve started talking, it’s difficult to get you to stop. “all my friends think it’s sexy when you tie it up before practice.”

geto doesn’t know what’s more surprising—how easily you’re giving up the information or the fact that he somehow missed you in the bleachers. it’s not the moral thing to do considering your current state, but he’s curious enough to ask, “what about you?”

“hm? what about me?”

“do you think it’s sexy?” he clarifies.

the burning in your cheeks is back but you don’t feel embarrassed, not the way you would if geto had asked you any other time. alcohol is your truth serum and without thinking of the consequences you’ll be facing in the future, you tell him, “yeah. you’re, like, super attractive.”

he was only teasing before but your answer makes geto’s eyebrows shoot up. as cocky as it sounds, the man doesn’t normally find such declarations surprising. although, that isn’t the case when it comes to you. he has no intention of telling you so when you’re drunk, but the feeling is mutual. geto clears his throat before his next words. “thank you.”

“you’re welcome.” there’s a sing-songy lilt to your voice that tells him your head is still swimming.

your willingness to so honestly answer each of his inquiries raises another question in geto’s mind. it’s a tad bit shameless on his part but you likely won’t even remember this exchange come morning considering your condition. and, geto thinks, the question is harmless enough—just a little flirting. “so, what do you like most about me?”

“mm, definitely your smile.” your reply comes almost immediately like you had been waiting for the opportunity to tell him so. the observation makes the corners of geto’s lips turn up. “it’s really pretty. but your piercings are a little intimidating.”

“oh?” geto’s pace slows down as he approaches the building you had told him was yours when the two of you were leaving from the party. he squats down to let you off his back and your feet haphazardly meet the pavement before you steady yourself. the crunch of pebbles beneath his shoes sounds in the air as geto turns around to face you. “you don’t like them?”

“i do,” you start, “i just bet it feels weird when you kiss, right?”

once again, geto’s eyebrows meet his hairline in a show of surprise. unconsciously, his tongue pokes out to toy with the cool hoops wrapped around his lips. “wanna see for yourself?”

“what?” you squeak, your eyes widening at geto’s suggestion. sure, you’re curious but that’s not what you meant. for the first time all night, you’re flustered. “i didn’t say that!”

he holds a fist to his mouth to hide his laugh which is still plainly audible despite his effort. with the same hand, he waves you off. “i was kidding.”

your lips are still parted in shock and you can feel your heart beating wildly in your chest, but you nod in understanding.

“come on,” geto jerks his head in the direction of your building, “let’s get you inside.”

he leads the way with your instruction, typing in the four-digit pin to gain access and pressing the button in the elevator to take you to the third floor. you stop outside your door to pull your keys out of your bag, sticking the carved metal into the keyhole after a few attempts. you can’t see it, but geto’s lips pull up as he watches your struggle.

when you finally get the door open, you step inside your apartment. geto’s feet stay rooted to the floor of the hallway.

“drink some water before you go to sleep, okay?” he advises you.

too embarrassed to speak after the last mishap, you stick your arm out and thumb up, a smile accompanying the gesture.

your uncharacteristic silence draws a quiet laugh from geto. he raises his hand in a wave. “see you around.”

thanks for reading! consider commenting or reblogging if you enjoyed ❤︎

#₊˚ପ⊹ signed: jujutsu kaisen #suguru geto x reader #geto x reader #geto x you #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #geto fluff #jjk fluff #geto drabble #jjk drabbles #geto imagines #jjk imagines #geto scenarios #jjk scenarios

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svgvru · 7 months

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𝐒 & 𝐌 : sex in the air, i don't care, i love the smell of it!

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐍𝐄𝐔𝐕𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐋 𝐓𝐎, 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔. it was no surprise either, well to those who know you. as the former ruler of teyvat, the king who presided over his sovereigns, it was logical that he would take a knee for you. you were his king, the dragon king. and he learned all sorts of things from you and about you when the two of you had first met during the . . . less kind days of fontaine.

things like: the former hydro sovereign, the prophecy, why he was born in a human form, anything relating to dragons, that you were kind, that you were honest, and that you were cruel. at least in his opinion.

now the kind did outweigh the cruel in most instances, however, the bedroom was a bit of a different story. see, neuvillette is such a loyal servant to you. he had been and always will be. and he's also—pliant. the poor hydro dragon could use some advice from a superior, someone older than him. after all, he is—was an over 500 year old virgin. a person with experience is someone he could benefit positively off of! and you were kind. keyword: "were."

your kisses started off sweet, they were gentle and calming. your hand were careful and soft as they roamed and prepped his body. your words were praises that could raise his ego tenfold. now?

"come now, dear . . . " there resting on your face with cruel smile, masquerading as being sweet. his feet carefully and reluctantly pad towards you. your form was sat on the edge of the bed, legs in a manspread. his eyes catch the glimmer of the blue gem on his cane next to you. he stops in between your legs, chewing on the corner of his lip. "don't hurt yourself," you whisper kissing his lips as your hands torturously slowly take off his clothing.

when you haad given him that glance just hours ago, he knew his "verdict" had been decided. oh how the tables had turned, then again, you were always his king, had they changed specifically with you? "across my legs, dearest."

your voice is soft, yet there's a command in it. therefore—he obeys. just as if he was in court, yet the roles were switched. the culprits had to face their sentence, so did he. his naked body is splayed across your legs. his back in an unintentional arch as his bare ass is on display for you. your hands teasingly trace his spine, except they didn't feel like your hands. it was another thing neuvillette hated during movements like these . . . you wore gloves. he couldn't feel your skin, it made him want to cry!

"what's the safeword?" you ask him, cane now in hand—the cold metal of his sends a shiver down his spine when you trace his skin with it. "h-hydro . . . " neuvillette mumbles. a small smile graces your face.

"good. you get ten strokes . . . that's all. now you will count, every. single. stroke. if you mess up, we'll have to restart, and i'll continue until you get it right. and finally, you are not allowed to cum without permission, is that clear?" your voice is unusually soft, yet if he looked back, he would see the lustful and cruel look in your eyes. "yes. crystal clear." he can practically feel your smile in response to his words. your lips press against his temple gently before his own cane suddenly comes in contact with his skin.

"a-AHN! mhn . . . o-one." luckily, you were using the wooden part of his cane. however, that didn't mean it didn't hurt. the soft paleness of his skin is reddened. a chuckle leaves your lips, "imagine how much more fun this would be if you had a vagina . . . "

his eyes widen at that, never had he thought you'd be into that kind of thing. nor did he think those words would leave your lips. the worst part however, was how it turned him on. his neglected cock twitches against your thigh at the words. "oh? is that appealing to you? having a woman's genitals? hm, i wonder . . . how wet would you be after one stroke? soaked? or perhaps you'd try and hold it in, hm?" your series of questions only makes his face burn more.

a smile graces your face as you can hear the pitter patter of the rain drops on the windowsill. your questions were terrible, but he wanted to know. he wondered what it would be like if you were torturing him with a vagina instead of a penis.

"it's raining already, dear. i've barely even started . . . " you tease and chuckle at him. "a-apologies, my king," he stutters, gripping onto the cloth of your pants. "forgiven."

there's a brief moment of silence after that. he wonders if you're enjoying the sight of him, or if you're teasing him. he turns to look at you, the words on his lips interrupted. "your majes—aAaahHhN!" he moans as the wood strikes his skin again. the skin of his ass a deep red. "t-two! mhn—!" he feels the material of the gloves, grope and massage his fresh stroke, a wince leaving his lips at the touch. "good," you coo. "such a good servant i have . . . "

the strokes continue, the wood striking dangerously close to his full and red balls, the ones you refuse to let him empty. "ah—my kinnnghH!" he'll sob with his lips trembling.

he pleads as if he could get out of this situation. well—he could; however, he doesn't. he refuses to use that fated safeword. no—he loves it. as much as he hates the pain, he loves it. especially because he's being punished by you, his king. he'd gladly let you ruin him in exchange for no one else being able to experience you like this. to which you fullfil his wishes. "ssss—seven!" he yelps.

the cane stops in the air. "seven?" you ask him. that was wrong, you weren't on seven. "y-yes?" neuvillette starts to question his answer, and when in his peripheral vision he sees your eyes give him a sympathetic look—he knew he was wrong.

your hand grips the base of his horns, a whimper leaving his lips as you pull his head up "ngh—ugh!" his lips tremble at the force, especially on his horns. because despite no dragon, including you, saying it . . . your horns were sensitive—specifically the base of them. "six, darling. it was six." you really do feel bad for the citizens of fontaine, plagued with this rough rain, but this was a sight you needed to see.

the hydro sovereign, back arched and tip leaking onto the floor, his eyes nearly rolled back, and fat tears streaming down his now red cheeks. his head hands, a small puddle of drool growing on the floor from him.

such a powerful being, reduced to nothing for his king, he truly is loyal. and yet, he isn't even done!

sobs rack his frame as he desperately keeps track, having to start over once more in the midst of this. his lower eyelids were red and puffy, stained with tears as he finally finished correctly. "TEN! ten, it's ten!" he whines. oh, he looks so beautiful!

you chuckle and finally put the cane down. looking beneath you, a puddle of pre-cum is in your sight; however, he hasn't cum yet! his listening skills were quite admirable, if you had only had his skills millenia ago. "i suppose you finally deserve my touch," you mumble, and the man in your lap visibly perks up at that comment. "p-pleashh! i desir—i want . . . i—!" his effort in forming words were quite adorable to you. "shh, i understand," you interrupt his words.

taking off your gloves, you touch his soft skin for the first time that night. neuvillette whimpers in happiness at the warmth of your hands—the skin to skin contact.

your hands knead his soft and sore skin, cooing to him as you do, whispering words of pride for him. your fingertips, calloused from war and past experiences, trail along his spine, simply touching him. "calm enough?" you chuckle, "i'm sure you dying to cum . . . get on the bed." neuvillette hurries onto the bed, wincing at the lingering pain. but he remains on his stomach, as up for you.

moving the cane from the bed, you crawl onto it, hovering over him. a smile is on your face as you hear the rain die down. it's not as rough as a few minutes ago, just a drizzle . . . although, that would likely change in less than a minute.

neuvillette feels two of your thick fingers touch the rim of his hole. your index slips in easily, your middle stretches him, testing how loose he is. "how long did you play with your ass, hm? that needy for your king? all you had to do was call my name . . . " your voice turns to a low whisper, his cheeks reddened before he watches you grab the bottle of lube.

he hears your pants unzip and fall, your lands lubing your cock for him. carlessly tossing the bottle wherever you lean over him.

"are you ready?" neuvillette feverishly nods, even poking his as out more for you. a smile leaves your lips as you press your tip to the rim, well your first tip. the second one is light pressing agsins his balls, leaking pre cum.

slowly but surely, you pushed your first cock inside of him, the other rubbing against his own cock. "ooooOOh! a-AH!" the dragon below you whines, you're quite surprised he hasn't completely lost control of his human form. it wouldn't be a surprise if he did.

and just as your thoughts ends, his hands claw at the sheets, turning light blue. all the way up to his elbows was there the color of the water before it ended, the color gradient and fading into his normal human skin color. the marks of hydro on his arms appear, his light blue tail flows as he looses control of his form. his back arched beautifully for you. he hears you laugh quietly at him, whining quietly at your hand stroking him. "are you ready?" your soft voice rings in his ears. "yes . . . "

he whimpers when he feels you lean down and kiss the nape of his neck. he feels your hips retract, his walls gripping your cock. "are you trying to break my dick? calm yourself," you chuckle and slam your cock back into him.

"a-apologies!" he chokes out, eyes crossed. "oh—you're so b-big!" your cock feels like a heaven he shouldn't be permitted to. it felt so good. every inch of his body has memorized you, just as you have him. your cock rubbing against his prostate felt like a gift from the gods. then again, you—you are his god. it didn't help that your second cock was frotting tips with his. your precum mix and fall with your thrusts, his legs trembling as it becomes harder to resist cumming. "you've taken it before, your alright," you coo.

full, was a word to describe this moment. although, the word 'pain' could be included. your hips roughly slap against his already sore skin, his ass jiggling with each thrust, his pale lips trembling. pain, is the word he could use to describe his need. the need to cum that he hasn't been granted. the both of you are sure his balls are red, his tip matching angrily as he desprately needs to cum. neuvillette sniffs, small tears spilling from his eyes. this always happens. the most he's every shown is emotion, is during sex.

but he couldn't curse it, he couldn't beg for it to stop . . . if it was his king granting him a way to express himself he'd gladly welcome it. "cum . . . may i? ple-please?!"

a sob is accompanied with his words. although, it is warranted. how could he not cry when you've purposefully angled yourself so your cock rams into his prostate. the downpour of rain continues, and neuvillette was going to loose his mind. "please! your maj—ngh! a-AH! my king! i—" he was prepared to plead and cry, anything to receive your cum and his own release.

"go on." his glossy eyes widen, he hadn't actually expected you to say yes. you had been cruel to him lately. what had changed? "put on your listening ears, dearest . . . "

"cum."

a loud whine and a cry of your title leaves his lips. his body shivers, his claws tearing at the light blue sheets, and his hole milking your cock. you grunt, roughly slamming your hips into him once more, eyes rolling back as you cum. when you frott tips neuvillette cums as well, a load of yours dumped inside of him and a load onto him.

"hah . . . thank you," neuvillette mumbles, blinking his low-lidded eyes. "thankyouthankyouthankyou!"

it was adorable . . . how he'd always thank you for allowing him to cum. "always so polite, hm?" you grin and kiss his temple, gently wiping his tears. "you're welcome, my love." a smalle smile grows on his face at the nickname.

the soft sounds of rain die down, a few sniffs still left in the hydro dragon below you. he's such a good servant to you, perhaps even the most loyal! well, morax might have him beat . . . but as a warm hole for you who's always ready, neuvillette takes the cake. "let's clean you up, hm? i won't make you cry anymore—tonight." neuvillette whines at your last words, but he's proud of himself for taking his punishment.

wait—what was he being punished for?

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reivrze · 1 year

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OH, SAY IT DITTO ♡

pairing. popular!jungwon x shy!reader

genre. highschool!au, fluff, reader has a huge crush on jungwon

word count. 0.8k

warning. none

a/n. this was inspired by the song "ditto" by new jeans :) the ending was kinda rushed lmao sorry, hope you guys enjoy ! reposts are immensely appreciated as they help my works get recommended, reblogs help the algorithms so thank you for all those who take time to repost my work ♡

exam season had come around at a rapid pace, and your free days now consisted of little solo dates at the library going over the notes you had taken in class. this morning was like every wednesday morning except your first two classes had been cancelled, and you had decided to take a little trip down to the library to occupy your free time.

as you entered the library, you greeted the woman sitting at the front desk, having been here so many times in the past few weeks that you had gotten to know several of the staff. getting closer to your usual table, you stopped suddenly seeing an unfamiliar presence sitting in your chair. trying to get a closer look, you sneaked behind the bookshelves, peeking out to see who was the mysterious person. your face flushed a bright red the minute you realized that the person was no one other than yang jungwon. the boy you had been admiring for the past ten years.

you had first met jungwon went you were eight in elementary. he had been the new kid, causing quite a stir amongst the students, his extroverted and hypersocial personality gaining him new friends almost every day. his arrival had awoken something new, he had given you your first experience of having a crush and boy did you not expect this crush to stick for as long as it had. how could you not fall in love with someone with such a boy-ish vibe and adorable smile ?

now here you are, staring at him through the bookshelves, debating on if you should just leave and come back later or try to find another seat. if you had the confidence, you would've gone sit at the same table as him, but unfortunately for you, that wasn't the case. letting your mind get stuck in this trance as you watched him read one of his textbooks, you hadn't noticed him lift his head up, his eyes catching yours amongst the books.

blinking out of your little daydream, your breath caught in your throat as you realized you were directly making eye contact with jungwon, his eyes curious as to why you were looking at him from afar. you felt a jolt of surprise course through your body, momentarily freezing you in place. caught in the act of observing him from behind the bookshelves, you could feel your cheeks burning with embarrassment. however, instead of turning away or pretending nothing happened, jungwon's expression softened into a warm smile.

breaking the spell of shyness that held you captive, jungwon motioned for you to come closer. with a mix of hesitation and excitement, you cautiously emerged from your hiding spot, making your way towards the table where he sat. as you approached, he slid his books to the side, clearing a space for you to join him.

"Hey, I noticed you peeking at me from over there," jungwon said playfully, his voice laced with genuine curiosity. "Want to sit with me? We can study together."

"Oh.. Sure" you offered him a little smile that he was quick to reciprocate. jungwon had felt comfortable enough during the time that you guys had spent together, going over the last chapter the teacher had gone over. the conversation seemed to flow with ease, you'd steal glances once in a while, not quite believing that you were actually sitting face-to-face with the boy you had dreamt about all those years.

as time passed, you found yourself really setting in the comfort of his presence, some part of you wondering if this comfort was simply rooted in jungwon's social personality or was it really that you two had easily connected. the time to go was nearing and both of you had started to pack up your belongings, your heart sank a little at the knowledge that this might be a one-time thing. just as you were getting to say goodbye and make your way to class, jungwon grabbed your wrist, turning you back around.

"Hold up- This might sound random considering this was our first interaction but I understood my lesson so much better with this one-hour study session than what I've learnt all semester and if you want, we can meet here tomorrow again after classes. you're fun to talk to and quite cute" he chuckled the last part, trying to ease any discomfort you might be feeling.

your mind went blank. you had never, in a million years, expected him to ask to meet you again. slightly overjoyed, you eagerly blurted out a yes. jungwon laughing at your surprised face at your own self. and just like that, you guys had planned your first little date, unknown to both of you that years down the line you'd still be a prominent part of each other's life.

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killedpink · 11 months

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한 지성 | a special appearance.

🎧 masterlist !?

📷 synopsis: your very much pined over friend and coworker, jisung, discovers your cam show. luckily for you, all he wants in the world is to be featured on your show as your first guest.

📖 word count: 6.3K

📂 contains: camming reader, unprotected sex, filmmaking, coworker setting, friends to lovers, afab reader, mutual pining, i mention jisung's eyes a lot here let's not acknowledge it please, slight fingering, oral sex, deepthroating, hair pulling, dirty talk, marking, thigh riding, cum consumption, creampie

when you started your camming business, you didn't expect it to grow in popularity. the website you used just barely scratched top three biggest sites each year, but somehow you still raked in millions of views across your platform. the pay wasn't too bad, either — it was enough to cover the expenses of living and then some, which is especially good once you take into account that camming is only a side hustle. you'd get on once a week at best, keep your identity private and in exchange be generously tipped. not a bad set-up, right?

until one day where your coworker (the only one in your workplace who you think about in detail during your sessions) grows awkward around you, which is even more heartbreaking considering you have good chemistry together. so, you approach him when you finally catch him alone when you're both doing overtime, and you politely demand answers out of his round, plump pink lips. jisung flushed ten different shades of red before his features settle into an anxiousness. "i found your cam show." his voice is quiet, his brown eyes avoid eye contact, his lips uttered the words quickly and with much restraint in his throat. your own brain had stopped working, a million questions in your head and yet you couldn't make sense of one, and instead of asking him a simple, "what?" you were too stunned to properly engage.

jisung cleared his throat, looking up at you with those big, brown, tragically round eyes of his, "i watched your show." his voice was much clearer, still low in sound and barely resisting the urge to mutter it as if it were a curse. although being undeniably embarrassed, you weren't ashamed nor upset with him. "so.. do you not wanna hang out with me anymore?" you felt your voice falter, catching on your emotions.

"what? no! no, not at all!" jisung all but exploded, eyes widening and enunciating every syllable, "i'm sorry, i really am. i just felt a bit awkward because you didn't know and i didn't even realise it was you until it ended — i only figured out it was you from your voice — i swear i am not a creep."

to lighten the mood, you lean into his bubble and mutter into his ear, "how was i?" and the proximity allows you to hear how his breath hitches and how the apples of his cheeks redden as he chuckles.

the both of you finish work and clock out together, and you cant help but notice how jisung hangs around his car, his eyes on you the entire time. "hey, listen, i could give you a ride home if you're up for it?" it's evident in his voice that he's not entirely ready for you to leave his company, and it's always a pleasure to spend time with him. when he starts driving to your residence it's like his brain is on autopilot: he doesn't ask for directions and he doesn't even ask you to clarify where he's going, despite only driving to your home a handful of times. he's attentive — you'll give him that. the palm of jisung's hand rests comfortably on your thigh, his warmth reaching your bare skin as your skirt rides up to make room for his hand, cupping the flesh of your thigh and affectionately squeezing it every so often, usually when you shifted in your seat to satiate the throbbing between your legs.

throughout the car ride, jisung makes little effort to engage in conversation with you. he barely looks at you, his gaze completely fixed onto the roads even when the car had stopped at a traffic light. it worries you — and you start to consider the possibility that he lied about being okay with your side business, or worse; he lied about your relationship still being the same, if there was any relationship left, that is. with a heavy heart and your mind screaming at you to not go through with your idea, you place the palm of your hand above his, completely enveloping his warmth. he's soft, his skin a tanned bronze and easy to caress: and you almost fall into that trap.

"you can tell me, if it's weird for you." you didn't want to hear how little jisung thought of you, but deep down, you knew he had the right to stay away from you if he felt that was best. you just hoped he didn't feel that way.

the first sign you get from him is a sigh, light and airy and the bridging the space between the both of you to his thoughts. "i know we're just coworkers, but, i really like you." jisung cleared his throat, your gaze catching his brown eyes for a moment. but, in that brief period of time, his dark, sharp, soft eyes — paradoxical, yes, — enchant you and whisper every nothing directly into your aching heart.

"and, if you're up for it, i wanted to.." he paused, trying to choose the right words as he drummed his fingers on the wheel, "to.. try it?" he looked at you for validation. "try what?" you turned to the side to watch him properly. as the car started moving again, it took jisung longer to find the words in his throat. "to be on your show."

you knew he pulled onto your driveway, you knew the comforts of your home were waiting for you, and you especially knew this was new territory that you weren't at all sure of how to navigate. regardless, you knew the thrumming in your chest was your heart beginning to flutter and you begin to grow addicted to the way jisung looks at you — it all ends in his eyes. life, death, rebirth, it's all the same to you when those round, furiously tormenting brown eyes stare at you as if you hung the stars from your mouth and let them slip from your tongue like honey. he's pure and he's rare and you fear you could shatter him with this dormant side of your life. but how enthralling that would be? to discover each other and touch him where your hands could never reach?

your fingers weave their way between jisung's, "okay. if you want to, i do, too." his eyebrows rise up in surprise and his pink lips part slightly. "i didn't expect you to answer so soon," you didn't expect to have an answer for him so soon, yet you found the words brimming the inside of your lips just as easily as you could think them.

you shrugged, "do you know when you'd want to..?" you trailed off, assuming jisung could fill in the blank, while he leaned closer to you and unbuckled your seatbelt, his hand deserting your thigh to unbuckle it and the other holding onto the buckle to avoid it colliding with you. from this position, you're taller than jisung, his head bowed down slightly, still momentarily focused on the seatbelt, and when he looks up at you, his lashes thick and his eyes round. the mesmerising, tragic witchery of his dark, onyx-like eyes haunt you so perfectly that you're unable to look away, hypnotised by the dusk night gleaming in his soft, doe eyes.

"how about now?" he murmured, and you're taken aback by his sudden forwardness. "now?" you echo, his dark hair following his head as he nods. "what's stopping us? what better time than now?" you hear the edge of desperation in his voice; he wants you as bad as you crave him, you're sure of it. his voice is low and rasp and slightly breathy, his words setting something ablaze deep within you and his smoky voice does little to quell the ashes igniting in the cage of your hips, and suddenly, all you can feel is that heat searing into your gut until it aches. your eyes flutter closed and you lean into jisung, his soft lips kissing your jaw; starting out timidly, but each press into your skin leaves him hungrier to taste you. his plump lips kiss your neck and he kisses the gasps that both start and end in your throat; he kisses them through your skin and you're sure he can feel when you swallow nervously.

your hands creep up into his hair before you can stop yourself, and like desperate, exploding stars, your eyes are immediately focused onto his, losing yourself into them as if you see something cosmically different each time. "you want to come inside, or stay in your car the whole time?" you tease, your lips curling into a pleased smile once you see jisung grin, his smile heart shaped and like every other part of him: hypnotic. "you know how to keep someone's attention," he muses, unbuckling his own seatbelt and turning away from you.

after a bit of ground-laying, and a short rehearsal which didn't even go all the way (which jisung insisted be done even more than you), the livestream is finally started.

people swarm into the show almost immediately, the comments moving so fast you can barely make out any coherent words behind your sex-blurred eyes. the tips are insanely generous — and you hadn't even gotten to any action yet. your audience hadn't seen you with a guest before, and despite you teasing it, you had never really intended to ask someone to join you.

all they get of you on their screen is your semi-naked body, your face obscured. jisung sits behind you on the bed, your back pressed firmly to his chest, in his lap. his hands slowly caress your sides, and your body is warmer than usual when he slips his hands into your inner thighs. the camera captures his soft fingers slipping into your underwear in high definition, the screen projecting a brightness your sensual lighting fails to — illuminating the way your knees want to connect like magnets as jisung's breath fans across the mouth-shaped circles of saliva on your neck.

you're pretty sure your soul levitates out of your body when he hums in your ear, his pink lips pressing kisses into your neck that you didn't realise you had been craving — and jisung scratched that itch just right. it was hypnotic and torturous at the same time. your hand fumbled for his, your fingernails digging into his tanned skin to anchor yourself before you reach delirium. and while jisung's index and middle finger circle your swelling clit under the fabric of your underwear, you realise with little to no effort that he touches you in a way you've never felt before. it leaves you carnally sinking into his swoon-worthy, tan build, the same way flesh knits together over a fatal wound.

he is your religion, and this feeling only intensifies as your back arches and your head lolls onto his shoulder the same way the brick of a cathedral is laid in an arch of brick. the most your frenzied audience gets of this is your chest trembling for breath and your hips rising and falling as jisung pulls his fingers away from your sex, glistening with his efforts and roping together in sticky strings.

you pull yourself off of his lap with shaking, trembling legs, and you stumble out of your panties as if you were drunk. maybe you were. you make eye contact with jisung, his brown eyes wide and lovely and deep inside of them you find the lover has replaced the coworker. his cheeks are beginning to flush and his lips start to swell, and he gives you a furiously charming smile that doubles as a smirk when you squint. the audience picks up on this chemistry, despite a large portion of it not being captured on camera.

crawling back onto the soft surface of the bed, you kiss and nip at jisung's neck, dragging your warm tongue over his collarbone. "take these off, ji," you whisper into his ear, careful to not let your viewers hear his name, your teeth grazing the shell of his ear as your hand groped the growing erection under his jeans. with the proximity, you heard the whimper jisung tried to swallow, his pinkish lips parted and his adam's apple bobbing.

you get comfortable in between jisung's bare legs, your hands resting atop his thighs, your nails grazing the exposed skin absentmindedly. the feeling of it melts the iron ball of anxiety in his gut, leaving only the torturous, blazing fire resting in his abdomen. jisung watched you with wide, long-lashed eyes, curiosity and that intoxicating lust-filled look shone down on you like a blessing. claim me, his eyes said, while the peverted grin on his face said temptress.

excitement burned between your legs, chaining you and influencing you. all your reserve was shredding away, your mind foggy and your body yearning, and weeping. you sank into his lap like a priest at a sermon, all devotion and no defiance. carefully, you introduced his cock to the velvety heat of your mouth, your hands guiding the weight of his cock to sit above your wet tongue. slow and experimentally, you sucked and licked his leaking head, just enough to get a taste of his rich, salty precum. it was enough to wet his cock and you slipped more of him into your mouth, greedily chocking down each morsel of jisung's cock. jisung fought to strangle down a single, pornographic whining mewl that sounded so unbelievably filthy that you couldn't help but smile onto his length. it must have looked obscene, or animalistic: your lips in a puffy wet ring around jisung's cock, your half-lidded gaze and your hands sprawled out onto the inside of his thighs and grabbing pathetically at the base of his cock.

all of your fantasies are given to your audience for just a moment. you hollowed out your cheeks and nuzzled his cock further into your warm mouth until his hard, velvety head prodded at your throat and just barely obscured your breath. jisung's sob died with his own breath, his hips rolling into your mouth and his cock twitching. your legs twisted like a sunflower facing the sun in an attempt to stimulate your own sex.

cautiously, you try a few slow bobs on his tastefully sweet length, his precum mixed with your drool coated his entire cock, and clung to your lips like webs. it was sticky and warm and it got between your hands and his base. you found a slow rhythm, tracing the veins on the underside of jisung's cock with your tongue, despite wanting so desperately to feel them somewhere else. you're almost certain that the microphone can pick up the filthy sounds of liquid sloshing around in your mouth and throat. you can hear it echo in your own head as your tongue traces his tip in circular motions. jisung's eyes squeeze shut, and his hands creep into your hair and appreciatively stroke your hair.

the pop of your mouth slipping off of jisung's aching cock almost bounced off of the walls. "i love doing this for you." your voice was low, not daring to let it venture past the bubble you and jisung have created around you. the image of him above you, his doe-eyed look spoke to you as if you were both lips to lips. his heart shaped lips were parted, half from mind-numbing pleasure, and the other from the soul soothing feeling of emotional intimacy. softly, your lips pucker and gently kiss jisung's swollen tip, softly insisting it be drenched in your love.

like the calm waves of the september sea, your hand falls into a pleasing rhythm which strokes jisung's cock so attentively that he revels in it, and in his mind he's sure he's going to re-watch this video over and over, until the entire feat is committed to memory. you rise and let jisung bring you into a kiss; your swollen lips glide over each other smoothly, pressing together with bruising mouths and bitten hearts, yearning for the other. jisung slides and scrapes his palms up your back as you kiss, soaking up every inch of your vulnerable, naked skin that he's allowed. you feel the smirk jisung makes through the kiss, and you realise he's taunting your viewers. he's telling them — daring them to touch you the way he can.

jisung kissed you so intensely that you can't even remember when he unclasped your bra, opening you up fully and laying you out like a delicacy made to be ravaged and worshipped all at the same time. when your clothes are nothing but a memory, jisung uses his teeth to appreciatively roll your top lip that was caught between both of his lips before pulling you off of his mouth.

you're grateful for this; you couldn't muster the inner strength to part from him yourself, but yet you couldn't even stomach being away from his cock for so long. you dipped back down eagerly to whirl your warm tongue around his heavy, leaking head. the corruption, the depravity for jisung always starts with the mouth, the tongue — the sheer, unfiltered wanting that leaves you so desperate that nothing else but him could even begin to be satisfactory.

he sunk down into you, swaying into your warmth and your efficiency. jisung worked his nimble fingers into your mussed hair, groping handfuls and tugging at the crown of your head. he pulled so tautly that it made your head burn, and burn it did; as well as ache. but it and everything else went unnoticed when compared to jisung's mouth watering cock rolling and gliding into your wet mouth. "y'look so pretty, angel, so pretty like this, fuck..."

dear god that's good. that's perfect, you realise. your free hand finds his in a daze, and yours clings onto jisung's so tightly that you feel his hard, unmoving knuckles press firmly into the soft, wavering pads of your fingers. you choke down the rest of jisung's cock in appreciation, your sex slicked lips slotted perfectly against his hilt, sealing and suckling him so that he was even closer to becoming undone by your mouth that evidently wanted nothing more than to be full with his rich, intoxicating taste. you traced the seam of his head, the natural crease in his velvet smooth tip where his body rewarded your efforts, sucking and savouring the taste of him.

jisung had already given himself up to the pleasure — he had already surrendered himself to you. his pelvis seared into your mouth, and jisung cried, a smooth and guttural noise that left goosebumps on your skin and your cunt aching. jisung rocked into you desperately, chasing the unfathomable pleasure you threw yourself into making for him. the sheer neediness of the act set another wave of lust and heat and dazed love to run its course through your naked body, still snug between jisung's legs.

the pull to jisung was buried deep within your skin which seared at his sounds, the heavy gravity of his soul called to you so intensely that you have no choice but to believe there is no heaven waiting in the clouds; there is no paradiso that dante could ever write that could ever make you a worshipper of his work – for your paradiso, your paradise is here: tucked deep away from the world and instead melted and nursed by jisung. you had no choice but to let his praise fall to your ears and his hands grasp at every inch of you he can find with his doe eyes squeezed shut so tightly that it's almost as if he manages to caress your skin in the dark.

you knew jisung was close. you could see it on his face. the way his brows furrowed and his slightly curved nose scrunched up with his boyish smile, all pink and heart shaped. with determination, you relaxed your achingly sore jaw and pushed forward; you fully leaned into jisung’s lap, your nose dug bluntly into the tan skin atop his abs. you were met with two things: the burning intensity of chocking on a mouth-watering cock, and the soundless cry that sprang out from jisung as if he were a stray coil. somehow, his cries and groans and praises were harmonious, unlike his hands. one scrambled to grip your hair even tighter; as if his fingers would never untangle and he accepted his fate, his digits pushing and pulling your head as if you’d miraculously fuse together. while the hand that you held onto clung to you so tightly you could almost feel the pressure of the bones in your hand being pressed taut to themselves. all jisung could comprehend was the hot, impossibly soft, smooth pulse of your throat — it completely surrounded his sensitive, spent cock, swollen and leaking and twitching as it untangled itself and gave its all to you.

every inch of jisung’s pretty, swollen cock stuffed your throat so intensely it left you utterly crazed. you were half sure, that from the sheer stretch your body had to do to accommodate him, that the shape of his cock would be carved into your throat; you could feel every inch, vein and splutter of cum pulse and fade into your throat so deliciously that you’re unsure who is enjoying this more: you or jisung.

you were lost in the rich, salty taste of him. you were swallowed whole by the scent of his sweat mixing with his cologne — cedar wood, and cinnamon, and rosemary, and a note of sweetness perfectly crafted to leave you lost and shivering from the mere suggestion of his presence. but by far, the most rewarding part of devoting the best part of half an hour to sucking jisung off was most definitely his mouth. in true jisung han fashion, he was loud and didn’t know how – or when – to shut up. he purred and whined and gasped, filthily and innocently at the same time — he was a walking paradox. you felt the vibration of his voice through touching him. his eyes, solid and teary, looked at you, cock still stuffed in your mouth, cheeks hollowed and red and your lips in a puffed ring around his base, drool and cum spilling out from the corners of your mouth, and he looked at you with no emotion short of lovesick.

his taste conquered you, and yet something in you wanted more. you couldn't rest. you were so mindless — jisung sung your praises so tirelessly that it left you star-struck, a devoted believer of whatever profound subtleties hid between his pink, pillowy lips. amongst the general mind-whiting pleasure and delectable sounds that seemed to blur your surroundings, your chat was overflowing with comments. you're not sure that the donations in the corner have ever ceased coming.

it was with great difficulty, that you were able to pull yourself off of jisung's spent cock. your surroundings slipped back into place as you did so, your mind untangling itself and your lungs burning with every short, desperate breath you took.

long, thick ropes of jisung’s cum and your drool clung to your mouth, stretching thinner as the distance from his throbbing cock and your sore mouth grew. crudely, it snapped and fell between you, smearing and leaving a semi-opaque memento on jisung’s tasteful length.

you hadn’t planned to go all the way with him. for your first session with a guest, all the way felt like too much. but your chat and the tips begged for it — you had never seen such large numbers on a live video of yours before. you wouldn’t object to fully fucking jisung, either. he was enigmatic in his movements, melodic in his noises and dutiful in the way he touched you. the entirety of the night you spent with him so far was very much like a religious experience: clouds parting, sun shining and angels singing.

you settled on his thigh, both of your legs straddling one of his and unsubtly grinding your bare, aching slit up the length of his muscular, well-carved thigh. jisung’s tanned hands wrapped around your waist, pinky fingers following the swells of your hips, and giving you that much needed stability to fall onto a rhythmic pace that only made you more obsessive over fully fucking jisung on camera. because even if you never get to do this again, you’re sure you would be able to feel the same way he makes you feel by watching the video again. you’re sure jisung’s touch would haunt you in ways no-one could ever fathom, or dream about. because if it feels that good kissing him until your head grows fuzzy, and if it feels that good sucking him off until your lungs burn, it must look even better — and you cannot imagine how it would look if jisung pinned your wrists and fucked you so terribly deep into your mattress that it felt as if he were using his hips to carve you into the bedding.

you wanted to immortalise this exchange. because dear god you might never have this opportunity again.

you kiss — and truly kiss. lips part and teeth clash, scalding tongue meets scalding tongue. your mouths trace each other’s and you feel as if you have become one elaborate person. jisung touches you exactly where you need to be touched without even thinking it, and you moan when he does. it’s both remarkably intimate and terrifying. remarkable, because no-one has ever came close to making you feel this way; terribly because you’re certain no-one can ever make you feel like this again.

your body yearns for him in unfathomable ways, terribly and deeply. you notice that jisung has a way — a talent, even, of simultaneously melting and setting ablaze every part of you. it is maddening and addictive at the same time. jisung put your roaming, explorative hands atop his shoulders, letting you anchor yourself onto him. your fingernails dug into his shoulder blades; your hands wanted to claw themselves into the muscle of jisung's tanned, broad shoulders. you wanted to pry him open and read all his secrets.

you feel jisung's wet cock press against the outside of your thigh, tender and persistent. your sex aches with the weight of an unshed orgasm — all consuming and begging to be released. your body leans into jisung's, your mouth finding the shell of his red flushed ear, your eyes catching on the way he grinned sinfully and leaned his body closer to yours. your teeth graze jisung's skin, your wet tongue prods his jawline, and your mouth scatters all over his neck, leaving no inch of his skin un-worshiped.

his lap is slick with your arousal, your hips rocking yourself onto the hard muscle of his thigh until the movement becomes automatic. your eyes gloss over you and jisung on the camera; his hands are mean in the way that they hold you. it's mean and possessive and his fingers are sure to leave bruises on your dirtily loved skin as he presses you into him as if he wants you to break.

from the proximity, you hear jisung's voice catch on a moan each time your hip bumps his swollen cock, his tip flushed a painful looking hue of pink and his length twitching and thrusting desperately just in case he manages to slide his cock over your sticky skin again. your forehead rests on his wide, steady shoulders and your fingers bury themselves into the curve of his bicep. your lips part to make way for your teeth, which dig into his soft, tan skin. your voice sinks into his body and your fervent mouth finds its home marking jisung's skin with your vicious, possessive love. your face is buried into the warm curve of jisung's neck and you hear how his husky sighs die in his thick throat, his heart shaped adam's apple betraying his otherwise impressive efforts of keeping his cool.

you're almost shocked at jisung. he walks around with an angelic presence, his innocent doe eyes and soft, cherub face is the picture of perfection. he's all softness, curves and sweet smiles. who knew he had a deep, piercing craving to be loved viciously and unforgettably?

your mouth releases jisung's sweat prickled skin with a pop, "no more," you gasp, the cage of your hips burning with filth and obscenity, your cunt still unclaimed by him and sobbing at that fact. "need you so fucking bad.." you let your teeth affectionately nip at his bruising skin. you let your voice fall quieter, "ji.. c'mon." you urge him, your hand falling to his cock and you push your palm against the underside of his sensitive cock, barely rubbing and yet applying so much pressure against his sweet spot that you feel his cock twitch as his hips thrust into your hand to chase your touch, infecting him with your pining for him.

before he gets the chance to flood your hand with his cum, you jerk your hand away and finally let the pads of your fingers sink into the slick, puffiness that is your neglected sex, your touch immediately onto your swollen clit. this time, jisung doesn't try hiding his sounds.

"fuck!" he draws out, almost growling in frustration, his eyes glaring at you. half-lidded and lust blown, brows furrowed and an unbelieving smirk all matched together on his face. all of it made you swoon. you are wicked, his poetically brown eyes say. jisung's groan replays itself in your mind, echoing and fuelling the desperate need for an orgasm in your body further.

jisung's hand finds a firm, cruel grip on your hip. they dig past the flesh and sit adjacent to your hipbone, guiding you off of his thigh while his other hand readies his cock, his hand wrapped around his base as he saws his searing head up and down your slick, ignored sex; it yanked a whine out of your throat when it caught on your puffed, tender clit.

jisung truly makes you suffer at his pretty hands. he lets you claw at his toned, muscular back — and he lets you sob and writhe in his lap, eager to sit on his cockmeat.

you needed his brutish grip on you to leave a bruise; you needed his touch to linger on your skin and you needed him to haunt you, in body and soul. you let his grip shape you into what he needs and you pray he can feel the agonising lust that gnaws through your skin, too.

the sight of his mean, thick cock torturing your raw sex looks better from above. you pity your audience: for all they see is a fixed angle. no video could ever do the feeling of han jisung's leaking cock deciding its invasion of your dripping, lustrously burning sex justice.

the room spins as you realise your positions have changed. your cheek is planted on the bed, head turned to the side to spot where jisung is via the camera. he looms over you, and it sends a genuine shiver down your spine. the most you can see of him; and by proxy, your audience, is a hard-edged jawline and scalding muscle that makes him look legendary. you're sure some wayward poet has written about him. jisung mirrors everything they stand for: strength, mystery and hypnotically good looks.

one of his hands wraps around your ankle, folding your leg in on itself, while the other prods at your wet, warm cunt. your head is dizzy as your sex flutters around his gentle touch — the pads of his fingers collect the slick pooling at your entrance and smear your slit, dragging it down until his fingers brush against your clit. you jerk at the sensation, cooling air on your searingly warm, throbbing cunt. jisung's middle finger finally, finally aides some relief to the white hot pain of neglect that burrows deep within your gut. experimentally, he lets his finger sink deeper into your sex until you feel the knuckles of his index and ring fingers prod at both sides of your cunt.

you struggle to catch your breath as you grow accustomed to the ascending feeling of having some part of jisung as close as you crave it. you tremble and sob into the mattress when he slips his finger out of you and into his mouth, it's audibly vulgar and he's audibly enjoying it. your fingers curl into the sheets and you let out a needy, impatient whine to urge him to touch you once more.

it's surprising when you feel jisung cup the curve of your ass and the swell of your hip in one greedy handful, and slides you onto his hard, delicious cock that soaks up every feeling of loneliness and neglect that was once nestled deep within your sex. the moan that spills out of you pours into the air, your lungs already taking a breathless gulp of air as you cry and wriggle under jisung's grip, your back arching in a desperate attempt to meet his cruelly slow pace. his touch burns into your skin that it's almost archaic. it sends you into a furore of passion, and even sex-mad you think jisung to be lovely. even as he beds you, and rolls his hips deliciously into the globe of your ass and brushes his cock head against your silky warm sex, you still swoon over the way he coos praise at you and lets breathless sighs flutter out from his heart shaped, pink lips.

slowly but surely, like a newborn calf gaining its balance, jisung sheds his coyness. he fucks you, truly fucks you, your arms pinned by him and therefore unable to escape him, and the force of his thrusts scratches that itch inside of you just right. the camera captures your body following the momentum of his thrusts and the way jisung's head tilts back, his throat exposed and his cock quickly gaining both speed and force to bully itself inside of your cunt, sculpting his hips against your skin. you want him to touch you until his palms burn, you want to be tangled and pressed against him so tightly that you cannot remember the feeling of want.

the rippling squeeze of you around him is too good to be real, jisung decides. he's sure he has made you up in a dream. his hand dips under your shoulders to hoist you up, your back arched and your head, like his, tilted back. "y'fuck me so well," you mutter out, your voice raspy from the never-ending onslaught of whimpers and moans and cries. "gonna come, ji." you grin, eyes fluttering closed and lips parting, brows furrowing as you lose yourself in the heavenly sensations jisung generously bestows upon you.

jisung, so mesmerised by the show you've put on for him, cups the dip of your back, nestles his face in the side of your neck and just loses it. his cock is so deep inside of your cunt that you're sure you can never be un-loved by him. the donations and comments flood in, making the need, the chase: the rush to finish come faster and faster. knowing thousands of people were mesmerised by you and jisung that it made his ego swell — and his thrusts adapt to an even more frenzied, brutal pace. you're unsure how you're able to keep up with his energy. jisung's libido is truly all consuming; he had your breasts bouncing and your moans stuttering with each dig of his swollen tip into your hot, drooling cunt.

your sweat tacked skin sticks to jisung: even your bodies were in agreement when your minds thought you wanted to fade into each other. and yet, you were each other's to tame. no part of you was free from jisung. he had claimed every inch of you, body and soul, you were bewitched by him.

you crumble onto him, your vision so blurred you can barely make out the fuzzy sight of the camera repeating the view of jisung fucking you. regardless, it shakes and trembles from the force used by jisung to fuck himself into your sex. the hot, wet silk of your cunt clamps around jisung in quick, frantic bursts of energy, and you sob through your entire orgasm. jisung kisses the edge of your jaw and strokes your side, all the while maintaining his brutally needy pace that made a mess of the both of you, your cum oozing out of him in episodes, and settling in a ring around the base of jisung's cock.

neither of you are sure this feeling can be achieved on earth, and as jisung's thighs finally tense and his hips stutter and a searing heat spreads throughout his body, you're sure you hear his body weep i love you, i love you, i love you, over and over until jisung's chest heaves with breath and your ears stop ringing.

as the both of you regain yourselves in waves, you realise the camera is still recording. you dutifully thank everyone for the tips, comments and for tuning in, and quickly end the session without a second thought.

jisung's eyes search yours for confirmation, and when you nod, his lips morph into a shy grin, his cheeks rosy and his skin shiny from his efforts. both of his hands cup your cheeks, his warmth seeps into your hazy, obsessive mind through the palms of his hands, and with as much tenderness one would summon to cradle a tiny, flushed baby, jisung presses his soft, soft lips onto yours.

with a hum of approval, he parts, and you're once more face to face with his big, round brown eyes, that holds everything your soul yearns for. "i have a free day next thursday. part two? we could spend the whole day planning..."

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kalims · 9 months

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kiss your best friend | ignihyde

kiss your best friend and see how they react!

parts. one , two , three , four , five , six , seven

characters. idia, ortho

content. gender neutral reader as usual, platonic for the bby, wingman ortho at it again, forgot about this ngl

note. sorry guys idia's part was messy but I mean, I'm just portraying his chaotic feelings ig. I SWEAR ORTHO'S PART MAKES UP FOR IT SINCE HES THE CALMER ONE

damn part six finally hear after almost a year (I'm so sorry help)

idia

is having the fastest inner monolog you will ever hear in your life, if it was being read out loud that is. could be nominated as rapper of the year with how fast he's blurting out thoughts in his mind.

also probably vocals of the year too with how high pitched, and small in range it is. what a versatile king 🔥

'anywaysitooklike10yearstryingtofindthisitemcausetheysaidtheysawitbutohmygodwhatinthethreehellsishappeningOMGaretheykissingmechatamidreamingOMGimnot??WHAT WARAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA'

to make your life easier 'anyways it took like ten years trying to find this item cause they said they saw it but oh my god what in the three hells is happening OMG are they kissing me chat am I dreaming OMG I'm not??? WHAT *incoherent screeching.'

probably has never kissed anyone besides his body pillows which is just one sided making out so completely forgets his 'lessons on teaching himself how to kiss' and freezes up. comically gets goosebumps and remains frozen even after you pull away.

then starts turning red from feet to head??

he has so many questions that he in fact, does NOT want to ask cause even if it cost his life he can't question you if you guys are dating now cause YOU JUST KISSED HIM SO THAT MEANS YOU BOTH UPGRADE LEVELS.

wait he can't call it friendship level. clearly you're both past level 10 now right?? INTIMACY LEVEL???? HE DOESNT KNOW HES PANICKING.

is too awkward to ask and acts even more awkward as the time is more prolong during the time he's just left wondering what the hell you guys are now cause he's too pussy to do anything without confirmation that you're both duos for life now.

ortho

is the one idia rants to about his predicament right after you part ways.

like, idia doesn't even try to call or contact ortho through the means of technology even if it meant getting to talk faster. he's BOLTING to the dorm with his unathletic ass (with breaks in between.) because the tea he was going to spill was that good.

listens intently and goes :O when idia finally mentions the part where you randomly kiss him out of the blue, by the way only getting to the point after idia spills.. umm.. the wrong thing to be honest, literally retold the whole day until that point.

yeahhhh.. he has the energy atleast.

idia is probably telling ortho about how it meant nothing even though you literally outright kissed him, to the cheek, mouth, or something and he's still gonna say it didn't mean anything.

ortho gotta be the one telling idia to make the move cause no idiot would mistake that for nothing (except idia apparently but he'll have everyone know that his brother is a tech genius!!)

they both do one of those scenes in movies where P1 - idia, is talking to you in real life with an earpiece, and P2 - ortho is said person behind the earpiece. basically the one telling idia what he should do because that guy is too lost for his own good.

"brother move closer!"

"... isn't this too close already though--" <- embarrassed and regretting everything

in the end he did manage to get a label on the two of you, no thanks to HIM and all the thanks to ortho <3

note. ortho's part just ended up as an extension of idia's part but I always love to include him in everything :') just some behind the scenes on how idia actually got a relationship (ITS ALL ORTHO)

not pr, who prs anyways cries

#ㅤ◜◡◝ . . signed #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland #twst #twst fluff #twisted wonderland headcanons #twisted wonderland scenarios #twisted wonderland imagines #idia shroud #idia shroud x reader #ortho shroud #ortho shroud x reader #x gn reader #ignihyde

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goteique · 27 days

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꒰ WHY DO I STILL LOVE YOU ꒱ ⋮ SUNA RINTARO → [ CONTENT & TAGS ]: f! reader ( can be read as gn! reader) x suna, angst, suggestive, fluff, hurt and comfort. // syn. | Suna thinks he can't pretend anymore of this arrangement or however you would like to put it so he takes a few steps forward including yours and all towards you. Now, all you have to do is to, just . . . voice your thoughts. wc -1.5kish // back to blog navigation. | @6-022-10-23 @sunarc

It is a privilege to be able to come home late at night, unharmed especially on weekends perfectly safe and sound, to not shake like a leaf on your way home, to not be afraid of your own shadow, mind, and heart in constant turmoil whether anyone is following you or not. And it is all possible because someone is with you, someone like Suna. Once in a while when the Inarazaki boys hang out together even after being busy with their saturated lives Rintaro never forgets to take you with him. It is like a ritual to home that twice a month on the third weekend of the month he will be waiting at the turn of your home exactly at seven o'clock to pick you up. Over the years, you would see new faces once in a while but certain ones are permanent the possibility of never seeing any of them is kind of scary and whatever happened at today's gathering might be considered a stepping stone for such dreadful outcomes.

Unlike other days, your head is not filled with the cool breeze and intoxication and your palms are firmly curled around the metal bar behind your back. If it had been any other day, your head would be filled with the after-effects of the party, casual chatting once in a while and your arms hooked around Suna's waist as he drove at a steady speed, not too fast yet not too slow. It is always the perfect consistency between you and him. Anyone would hate to fuck it up, even someone who has been friends with him for more than ten years. By now, everyone is convinced that you two are in a relationship but no one was much sure about it, not even Suna or you confirmed it. Everyone sort of thinks you two are a couple since neither of you entertained others romantically but when asked both of you would joke about it. You sure talked about how Suna never felt sour when he was being associated with you but what exactly it was? It never occurred to you and neither to him to talk to each other about what exactly it was yet both of you took it as a sport during school days. And now when he was asked certain questions he joked, like always even after ten years he could keep up the pace. How humourous is that!

The ride back from the get-together to your home takes about an hour. Never before he has worn the helmet once but of course insists you wear one and undoubtedly fails miserably. There are still twenty minutes left to reach home and if you do not voice your thoughts now, you are seriously gonna bruise the inner side of your bottom lip. You pull his helmet away his balance is disturbed for a moment but he does not stop. Now, you are sitting at the back with his helmet in between your hands with your helmet on. Even if you did talk, he would not be able to hear it all. Suna can imagine the "I'm so done" face you are making right now but when he feels the hard poke of your helmet on his back his smile sways away from his face. He slows the speed of his bike and halts at a nearby corner. Your head perks up like a meerkat and he slides open the helmet. "I thought you fell asleep." Yeah! it is perfectly normal for someone to pull away the helmet and fall asleep right away. Silence follows accompanied by his scrutinizing eye contact with you. He always looks at you with those eyes, as if he is analyzing you, a look you are all too familiar and comfortable with. You could easily whine and get away with it. He could easily tease you about drinking too much at his home, wait for your high to evaporate, helping you to sober up before getting home. Yeah, he is too sweet to you. No idea how long this intense staring was gonna last but you are the one to look away and say something. Suna could only make the "what" and "that" part of it. His eyebrows grow closer and then ease up the very next moment.

"Y/N, if you don't get down I won't be able to get down." He says as politely as possible. Suna, at times, can be impatient but by now he should be a walking manual book for "how to behave with Y/N when one is getting a silent treatment" You look at him again, and blink. once. twice and then your eyes lower to the helmet at your hand. "Oh! Right." Suna says taking it away from your hand and keeping it on the engine of the bike. The wave of guilt hits him when you do not use his shoulders as support to get down from his bike, perfectly taking off your helmet and keeping behind him. Suna can not even ask what's with all these since he is aware. He is aware of what exactly is this and what kind of wave is coming next.

"What was that?" you curtly ask folding your hands in your chest demanding an elaborate answer with any detours.

"What was what?" Oh wow! now Suna decides to play dumb yet not when he was asked about how he fell for you; what exactly it was that made him swoon for you? And, as for your opinion, his giving into the tease felt a little too real to dismiss it as "typical suna" behaviour. It sounded like a confession.

Without playing around, you just got straight to the point, "What you said at the party. about how we met and how we are . . ." you pause and Suna rolls his tongue inside his mouth looking away. " Well, don't avoid my eyes Rin. You know you owe me an explanation. If not now, you will have to explain it to me." His Adam apple bobs at the tone of your talk. It is perfectly calm yet so desperate. Suna just gives you silent treatment not even looking at you, keeping his head down.

"I'm sorry. I should not have acted the way I did today." He remarks lowly rubbing circles on the back of his helmet.

"That's it?"

"what else there is to say?"

"I'm not asking for your apology. I'm asking for an explanation."

"why?" Suna finally looks up. " did I say anything wrong? did I say anything that made you uncomfortable?" He sees how you back away even though he did not raise his voice at you. "If so, then I'm sorry. I didn't want to." He dips his head again.

"I'm not saying that what you did was wrong." You sigh and then look away. " I'm just asking why did you do it?"

"they were asking too many questions. so, I wanted to shut them up. once and for all."

"they are your friends Rin. your childhood friends. you've spent half of your lifetime with them. they are gonna tease you the rest of your life. you can not give in to that every time. " That's it? You are already satisfied with his crass-ass answer? Suna's brain goes on auto pilate when you put on your helmet, and rest one of your arms on his shoulder to use him a support for getting on the bike.

He swings his hand around your waist saying, "My turn to ask questions." He maintains eye contact. "so, are you satisfied with my explanation?"

"no."

"did Didby by any means make you uncomfortable about what I said?"

"No."

"then, what exactly are you angry for?"

"I'm not angry," you say looking away and biting your lip again.

"disappointed then?" Suna says taking your other hand in his, " I can make it right if you give me a chance."

You scoff loudly tipping your head down. Yes. You are disappointed but not at him, at fate, at circumstances. Your vision becomes blurry. You swallow to keep the water at the brim of your eyes. Suna is interlacing his fingers with yours as you look up at him and say, "It's too late." You swallow again as he stops mid-way from kissing your knuckles. "I'm in a relationship already." Suna jerks himself away from your embrace as you finish your sentence.

He tips his head again. "are you happy? in your relationship?"

"we just started dating,"

Suna gives a wry smile. "well, it's not like we were not in touch with each other. when were you going to tell me?"

"I don't have to tell you everything that happened in my life. I don't owe you anything."

Suna's eyebrows knit together and it stays like that. You are spoken for. That is a fact so insignificant to you that you did not bother to mention it to him or is it too important that you wanted to hide . . . to protect it from him or is it that you wanted to protect him from being his emotions getting run over. He wants to give it straight to you, from the moment he met you to now, about why he acted the way he acted tonight, about how he meant all those jokes and teases yet instead he says, "At least you owe me a little so that I can tease you about it."

His eyes were still on you for a few seconds. "Since you aren't drunk I'll just drop you home. Hop on." he wore his helmet and pressed the handle of his bike. There is no point in talking now once Suna decides to give the same silent treatment that you occasionally do when you are just drunk.

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ellitlou · 1 year

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♪ CHERRY CONTACT ♪ part 1

pairing modern!ellie x cousins best friend!reader

synopsis ellie, you, and your best friend clara had spent every summer together since you were ten. ellie decided not to come for four entire summers, and it was just you and clara. this summer, ellie finally comes back, and she’s different. she’s hot. your harmless, childish crush isn’t so childish anymore.

warnings ! - smut, oral sex+fingering reader receiving, ellie teasing you a lot, also my first fic so pls lmk if i should do something differently!

playlist

Cruel Summer - Taylor Swift

Cherry Flavored - The Neighborhood

Ribs - Lorde

Stargazing - The Neighborhood

Stargirl Interlude - The Weeknd

you always wore the same cherry flavored lip gloss. it made your lips the perfect subtle shade of red that you just loved. plus, it tasted good.

your best friend, clara, was more of a clear lipgloss girl, but she still teased you over your obsession with the lipgloss.

it was a summer in your town, and one hot day you’d noticed you ran out of one of the tubes you had. you’d expected you’d run out soon, but unfortunately you didn’t prepare. you still searched through your makeup bag for a spare, but it was no use.

you slipped on your shoes and grabbed your keys and bag and walked towards the door. “i’m gonna go to the store!” you shouted for your mother to hear. “okay!” she shouted back.

you weren’t only going to the store for the lipgloss, of course, you needed a few other things, but the lack of the lipgloss at least got you out of bed.

as you were walking to your car, that’s when you noticed your best friends cousin had arrived. your friend, clara, had been telling you how excited she was to see her cousin, ellie. you looked across the street and saw the taller girl, being welcomed by your best friend. after they shared a hug, clara noticed you and waved. you blocked the sun from your eyes to get a better look and then waved back and got in your car.

ellie was a lot different now, you realized. you met ellie when you were ten and ellie was eleven, eight years ago when clara had her over for the summer. you guys swam together and had so many fun sleepovers. now, ellie was a lot taller from what you could see, and her hair was shorter.

later on, once you got back from the store, you were walking in with your bags. you then got a call from clara, which you struggled to pick up.

“hello?” you said, trying to unlock the door, although it was extremely difficult with one hand, full of bags.

“ellie’s here!” clara practically screamed over the phone.

“i saw.” you laughed, successfully getting the door open.

“you should come over.”

“one sec—“ you put the phone on the counter.

“mom, i got the shampoo you wanted!” you shouted, before grabbing your bag of stuff and walking back towards your room.

“when do you want me to?” you asked, picking the phone back up.

“uhh like now?” clara said in a sarcastic tone.

“you’re gonna have to give me a minute, gotta change and stuff.” you said, laughing at clara’s tone.

“we’re gonna go swimming, so bring a swim suit!” clara insisted. she then hung up, and you threw your phone back on the bed.

the entire exchange reminded you of your childhood together.

once ellie came over, clara would call your mom on her mom’s phone. you would normally pick up and clara would beg for you to come over. then, you would beg your mom and eventually she’d give in. once you got there, you guys with you stupid childish things, but it would be fun. it was always so fun. you often found yourself during the months of december and november longing for it to be summer simply because of those days.

“hey thanks for the shampoo. you going to claras?” your mom stood at your door way while you looked for a swim suit top. you didn’t have a pool, but clara did, so every time you were in your swim suit or getting your swim suit, your mom knew where you’d be going.

“yep, ellie’s there.” you said, smiling.

“oh really? it’s been a while since you’ve seen her, huh?” your mom said.

“yep, im pretty excited.” you beamed.

“have fun kiddo, text me.” your mom said, walking back up to her room.

“i will!” you confirmed, before closing your door to change.

you adjusted your bag with your change of clothes and pajamas in it as you walked towards clara’s house. you had just applied your trusty cherry lipgloss and you felt ready. still, you were nervous. for the past four years, you spent your summers with clara and some school friends. ellie wasn’t apart of the picture. ellie had moved further away then, and she spent summer with a lot of her new friends. now, ellie was planning on moving to where you and clara lived, and clara was ecstatic. you weren’t super excited necessarily, because it’s been four entire years. what if ellie was different? what if summer was different? you were far to attached to your summer nostalgia to even accept that fate, but you knew there was only one way of knowing, and that included finally ringing your best friends doorbell instead of standing around.

you pushed the button, standing back before hearing a soft running sound towards the door. the door swung open, revealing an extremely excited clara.

“hey! i’m so excited!” she exclaimed, leading you by the arm into the house. “i’ll put your bag upstairs.” clara said before grabbing your bag. “ellie’s already by the pool.” she shouted from midway up the stairs. “‘kay” you shouted back, walking towards the sliding doors. once you stepped out, that’s when you saw her up close. she was sitting by the pool, feet dangling in the water. she was wearing a green ribbed tank top and black shorts. her figure was a lot more muscular, and you noticed she had a tattoo. she was different…she was hotter.

ellie noticed you and put her head back, looking at you upside down. she smiled, before turning around and standing up.

“hey y/n.” her voice was deeper. she walked over to give you a hug and that’s when you fully noticed the height difference. “it’s nice to see you ellie.” you said, before she embraced you, her frame hugged yours.

she smelled warm, but also like trees and pine cone. you couldn’t get enough of the smell.

“you look good.” ellie said when she leaned back. she walked towards a table where she had her phone, and quickly checked it before putting it back down. you walked over to the same table and began taking off your outer clothes and leaving your bathing suit.

“you too.” you smirked, before pulling your shirt over your head.

“damn!” you heard behind you, which was clara, walking out with a tray of drinks. “you look good! and i made some margaritas, they may not be good, but i tried.” clara said, setting the tray down.

“ooh sounds good.” you wiggled your eyebrows, before taking a sip. your face immediately went sour. “you weren’t wrong.”

“can’t be that bad.” ellie said, grabbing one. her face reacted immediately. “it’s…strong.”

“oh come on! i tried!” clara pouted.

“let’s just go swimming.” ellie suggested, before stripping from her black jean shorts. it revealed a matching green bikini bottom, showing off her body. “let’s go!” clara said, then she threw off her shirt and jumped in.

you and ellie looked at each other for a moment and she laughed, before walking towards the steps. clara came up and looked directly at you after she cleared her eyes.

“jump in!” she insisted. you took a deep breath before walking towards the deep end. “come on, you got this!” clara cheered. you ran and jumped in, adrenaline taking over before you hit the freezing cold water. it wasn’t really that cold, but you just weren’t used to it.

“shit!” you screamed when you came up, running your hands over your hair.

you three played in the pool, laughing, splashing each other. it was honestly the most fun you’d had since ellie hadn’t come back four summers ago. you three were sitting on the ledge together, drying off.

“i’m glad you came back ellie.” you said, looking towards her. she was drying her hair with a towel when she looked over.

“i’m glad i did too.” she smiled.

“let’s watch a movie after we get showers.” clara said, standing up and making her way towards the door.

you sat against the bed, on your phone after your shower. clara laid on the bed behind you.

“why exactly did ellie not come back?” you asked clara. she stared at her phone, not looking away.

“clara.” you called her. “huh?” she looked over.

“why didn’t ellie come back?” you asked again.

“i dunno…friends i guess?” she said. “but i think she had a lover.” she raised her eyebrows. you turned around and looked at her.

“really?”

“i mean, i’m not sure. but why else would you ditch the coolest cousin ever and her best friend and the most awesome summer experience? a girlfriend…or boyfriend.” she said.

“maybe…who knows.” you said.

“hey guys.” ellie walked in, wearing a black tee-shirt and plaid pajama pants.

“hey, what movie do you guys wanna watch?” clara got up, walking out of her room. ellie and you followed.

“anything, let’s browse.” ellie said.

then, the doorbell rang. “oh! it’s the food.” clara said, running towards the door.

you and ellie sat on the couch. you got another smell of her, this time she smelled a lot more like warm vanilla. maybe it was her shampoo, you weren’t sure. she turned to look at you, and you looked back. you guys were just staring for a second, and you opened your mouth to say something, but clara walked in with the food.

“get your food guys!” clara said, dropping the bags on the table.

you all grabbed your drinks and your food and picked out a movie, which you settled on a horror movie. you guys always watched horror movies during your summers, but when you were kids you had to hide it a lot more. now, you watch them freely.

you and ellie sat next to each other for the entire movie, and feeling her thigh against yours was making you go crazy. you started to realize what you were feeling when she reached over to steal a fry and her chest rested against your shoulder. you wanted her. not just as a friend, but more.

“uh, i’ll be right back.” you said, in the middle of the movie. you walked towards the bathroom and closed the door, resting against the door. this reminded you of when you were kids, again. you remember having a silly crush on ellie. she was funny, cute, and everything you liked. she would tease you a lot and you loved it. you loved when you guys got to share the mattress next to clara’s bed because when you turned your back, ellie would poke your back and tickle you when you least expected it. now that you were older, it didn’t feel like a silly crush anymore. she made you nervous; she made you quiver. you could barely breathe when she got too close. this was too real, and god you hated it. you reached into your back pocket, grabbing your favorite cherry lipgloss, and applied it before sticking it back. it made you feel more at peace if you had it on, as weird as it sounds.

you walked back in a few minutes later, and you sat back in between ellie and clara.

“you good?” ellie asked.

“yeah! i’m good.” you smiled, and clara unpaused the movie.

“you still wear that lipgloss, huh?” ellie whispered. you turned your head, your faces dangerously close. your breath hitched, and you couldn’t move. before you made it weird, you replied.

“yeah..”

“cool.” ellie said, turning back towards the movie.

once the movie was over, you noticed both ellie and clara were asleep. you quietly paused the credits, and tried to stand up without waking them up. this happened a lot during the summer, either it was you and clara, or it was clara and ellie. after a movie, at least someone would pass out. at like 2am you’d wake up with a sore neck and make your way to the bed. it happened like that every time.

you definitely weren’t really tired, so you went up to clara’s room, and laid on her bed, playing on your phone. still, random tiktoks couldn’t distract you from your lingering feelings. you realized you needed fresh air, so you went to your favorite spot. clara has a window that leads to the roof, so you climbed out and sat up there. she had an area where she put blankets for everyone to stargaze, but you guys obviously didn’t get to it tonight. you climbed over and sat on the blanket. this part of the roof was actually made for people to be able to sit on, so it wasn’t hard to get on and it was private. you laid back, watching the stars for a little while.

around an hour later, you heard the window creek open further, and ellie climbed out. “ah, so this is where you ran off to.” she said, climbing over to you. she sat next to you, looking up at the stars. “clara’s in bed, she left the same mattress for us, but i set up the couch for me to sleep on.” ellie said. “you don’t have to.” you replied. “you sure?” she laid back and looked at you. “yeah.” you said, after turning and looking at you. “the stars are pretty.” ellie said, turning to look back at the sky. “they are. they look like your freckles.” you joked.

“you always say that.” she smiled, looking back towards you. silence lingered for a few minutes, and you both continued looking at the stars.

“you know, it actually was a girlfriend. i had a girlfriend back in wyoming, that’s why i stayed.” ellie admitted. you didn’t say anything for a moment.

“so you heard?” you asked, smirking. “well you aren’t exactly super quiet.” ellie teased.

“was it serious?” you asked, realizing how stupid the question was. she blew off four years of summers with her cousin just to be with a girl; of course it was serious.

“i guess so. but she kinda sucked.” ellie said.

“how so?” you asked.

“she was great, for the first two years at least, but then she became, i don’t know, mean?” ellie said. “she started being weird and saying i changed too much or that i was becoming too masculine.” she said. “we kissed a lot, but other than that, it wasn’t really romantic. i eventually realized we were kind of better off friends.” she continued. “of course when i said that, she broke up with me on the spot last summer.” ellie said.

“damn, i’m sorry.” you said.

“nah its okay. i’m not worried about it.” ellie said.

“you seeing anyone?” ellie asked. you glanced towards her, wondering why she was asking. maybe you were delusional, but you started to wonder if it’s because she was into you too, but it was definitely too soon to know.

“uh..no.” you said.

“how come? you seem like you could pull anyone.” she said. your stomach started to whirl, and you laughed.

“i guess, but i’m just not interested.” you admitted.

“makes sense.” ellie said.

ellie turned towards you for a second before sitting up.

“you changed a lot you know? in a good way.” she said.

“you too.” you admitted.

“honestly, you looked amazing in your bikini.” ellie said. you froze. did she really just say that? it was just out of no where.

“what?” you said.

“shit, sorry, i didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” ellie started to sit up, but you stopped her by grabbing her shoulder.

she looked back, this time your faces even closer than before.

“it didn’t make me uncomfortable.” you said. “it didn’t?” she asked.

“you looked good in yours too.” you said, your faces inching closer. “fuck it.” ellie said, connecting your lips immediately. when your lips collided, a million thoughts started to race through your brain, but the only thing you focus on was how her hand was touching your waist. you leaned, back, making eye contact with her. her eyes looked extremely lustful and her lips were coated in your cherry lipgloss.

“i always wanted to know what your lipgloss tasted like.” ellie smirked, you smiled back before connecting your lips again, this time throwing your leg over hers and sitting on her lap. she ran her hands down your waist and to your ass, before she gave it a tight squeeze. you moaned into the kiss, and you could feel her smile. she turned you over, not breaking the kiss while she ran her hands under your sweater. you broke the kiss and looked at her again.

“is this okay?” she asked. “yeah, but should we do this out here?” you asked.

“no one can see us.” she said, before kissing you again. you leaned back a little, letting her pull off your sweater, which revealed a white see-through bra. “fuck.” she whispered, before reaching to unhook your bra, which you assisted her with. once it loosened, she immediately began massaging them, and kissing your neck. she kissed all the way down towards your breasts, and began sucking and licking your hard nipples. “you have the prettiest boobs i’ve ever fucking seen.” she said.

you laughed, throwing your head back for a second. “thank you.” you said. she then leaned down towards your face and kissed you again, this time it was very slow and passionate, full of lust and longing for one another.

ellie then positioned herself in front of you and began kissing down your neck again. she went all the way down your torso, which you moaned at, because she left a few hickeys around your belly button. once she got to your elastic shorts, she ran her hands underneath them.

“can i?” she asked, before she pulled them off. “mmhm.” you said, eagerly. she smiled at your eagerness, before pulling them down. they revealed matching see-through underwear, which she was immediately in awe at.

“god, you’re gonna make me lose my fucking mind.” she said.

“shut up.” you laughed. she smirked before she began kissing you softly around your cunt. once she made her way to your cunt, she kissed your clit softly. “stop teasing.” you joked. “oh, but it’s my favorite thing to do.” she teased, once again. you shook your head, before she began pulling down your underwear, revealing your cunt.

“you’re so pretty.” she said, looking up towards you.

“stop” you said embarrassed.

“you actually want me to?” she asked. you froze for a second and made eye contact with her. her face in front of your pussy, staring up at you. the picture was surreal.

“no.” you spoke.

she leaned towards your cunt, giving your clit another kiss, this time on your bare clit. she then gave your pussy a lick from the bottom to the top.

“fuck.” you leaned back more, resting on your elbows. she began licking your clit faster, her form absolutely amazing, you felt like you couldn’t breathe.

“holy shit.” you moaned out, looking back at ellie, who’s head was face first into your pussy. she began licking your hole, and you knew your wetness was bleeding out onto her tongue. she brought her finger up, sticking one in your cunt slowly.

“oh my god.” you said, surprised but in complete pleasure.

“you like that?” she asked, her voice seemed much deeper.

“mhm.” you moaned out. she began pushing it in and out slowly, while licking your clit. you moaned a little louder this time, but you tried to stay quiet because clara was sleeping.

“please, ellie, faster.” you begged with a moan. she stuck another finger in, her rhythm picking up.

“holy shit i think i’m gonna come.” you said. she started to go faster with her fingers and with her tongue on your clit.

“fuck, ellie!” you moaned out, arching your back as she finger fucked you. the pleasure she was delivering was absolutely unreal. she’s definitely done this before, you thought. right then, you came around her fingers, riding them a bit as you did. she leaned back. “did you come?” she asked. you breathed in and out trying to understand what she was saying.

“yeah, yes i did.” you breathed out, laying back. you stared up at the stars for a few minutes, unsure of what to do now.

“you okay?” ellie asked, looking at you.

“that was amazing.” you said. she smirked, before leaning in and kissing you again. you leaned in towards the kiss, kissing her with the utmost passion, tasting yourself on her tongue, which included the taste of your pussy and your cherry lipgloss. right then, you broke the kiss.

“what time is it?” you asked, picking up your phone.

“we should go to bed.” ellie said, seeing the time reading 3:52am. “yeah for sure.” you said, grabbing your clothes and slipping them back on. you grabbed your phone and climbed back towards the window.

“definitely gonna tease you about how fast you came.” ellie teased.

“shut up.” you nudged her. she almost lost her balance and looked at you in disbelief.

“hey, if i fall off who’s gonna give you more amazing head?” she teased, once again.

“you’re never gonna let this go, are you?” you asked.

“nope.” she smirked.

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