#i could use a whole post to break this piece down
Text
Tan Lines
your boyfriend adored your tan lines more than you, if that was even possible.
• this is my 1st ever post so pls be nice 🤍🌊
→ pls leave a comment below if you like it & if I should do a pt2
pairing: fem!reader x boyfriend!rafe
word count: 600
warnings: slight smut, few curse words, 18+
all year you looked forward to the permanent halter top that adorned your skin. wearing the same bikini over and over, countless hours in the sun, finding the perfect lotion. it was all a part of the tanning routine that led to a sun kissed glow. for some reason the lines made you feel more beautiful, not that they changed your appearance. it was like a confident boost, an accessory. you really couldn’t love your tan lines more, unless you were going up against Rafe Cameron of course.
you were laying out by the pool in the backyard of Tanneyhill, playlist flowing through your speaker, occasionally spraying yourself with a squirt bottle to cool you down. your routine was down to a science. ever since you had met Rafe, he had kept his door open to you, encouraging you to treat the Cameron estate as your own. that being said, it wasn’t unusual for you to use the grounds without Rafe’s presence, like today.
that is until you heard a low whistle, breaking you of your slight daze.
“my god, baby. aren’t you a sight?” Rafe complimented as he approached your chair from behind. you looked up at your boyfriend, golf-clad appearance making you unintentionally clench your thighs. he had just returned from a country club outing with the boys.
“hi handsome,” you smiled up at him, “how’d you play?”
Rafe shook his head, “Topper couldn’t hit for shit. took us a whole extra hour just waitin’ for him to get it together.” he grumbled as he moved to sit on the end of your chair, eager to get his hands on you.
“if I woulda known this is what was waitin’ for me,” he starts while tugging at the strap of your bikini bottom and letting it snap back in place, “I woulda left his ass on the course.”
you giggle, sitting up to reach his mouth, letting out a content sigh when your lips touch. you’re not surprised when Rafe instantly takes things further, his tongue running across your bottom lip.
as you grant him access, he follows momentum, guiding you to lay back down in the sun chair, slightly shifting so his body is laying on top of yours. you can’t help but let out a small moan, knowing where this is going.
“Raaafe,” you whine, “we are outside. anyone could see us.” the last thing you want is for Rose to catch you two.
“no one’s home, I checked on my way in,” he distracts you by running his hand up your bare side until his fingers brush the underside of your breast. “let me see what you’ve been workin on all morning,” he begs, despite his needy fingers already pulling the tiny piece of triangle fabric out of the way.
a small grunt escapes his lips as he sees your exposed bud, mixed with the perfect outline of the bikini that once stuck to your body. the cool sensation of the wind making it perk up, causing you to gasp at the sensation. he can’t help himself but immediately attach his lips to your skin, slightly sucking while his left hand comes up to massage the other. once he feels satisfied, Rafe moves his mouth along the tan line, like it’s his guide. small open mouthed kisses and occasional nips forming marks going up to your collar bone.
small moans escape your lips, back arching to get closer to his mouth. your hands run along his buzzed head, nails lightly scratching his scalp. “need you, Rafe. please”
-
comment if I should do a part 2! ✨
#rafe cameron smut#rafe smut#rafe outerbanks#rafe obx#rafe x reader#rafe cameron#rafe imagine#rafe fanfiction#rafe fic#drew starkey#rafe drabble#rafe one shot#rafe cameron edits#outerbanks rafe#rafe x you
61 notes
·
View notes
Text
post prison!spencer reid x fem!reader
genre: enemies to lovers, smut with a plot
summary: spencer can't help but despise his "replacement", especially during an undercover mission in a nightclub.
MDNI 18+
“this is insane.” penelope garcia mutters on the other end of the phone call. “there’s no way jeffery was able to absolutely take himself off the internet.” she huffs, the keyboard clicking in the background. “i’m gonna keep working. i’ll be back in a jiffy, i swear!” she says sweetly before hanging up.
the unsub, jeffery hogan had abducted then murdered four young women in los angeles california. the team had been in la for three days now, and jeffery had already killed two more women before they could stop him. all of them were getting antsy and a little angry.
you sigh, leaning back in your chair as the rest of the team begins talking amongst themselves, minus spencer, who had been staring at a map for twenty minutes.
“reid.” you say, catching his attention. he doesn’t look up, but you can tell that your voice startled him slightly.
“hmm?” he says, annoyance lacing his tone. you roll your eyes. he had been an absolute dick to you since day one. the whole team had described him as a saint, yet, you couldn’t see it. yes, he was attractive, but that didn’t distract from how hateful he was towards you. plus, you had been nothing but nice to him when you first met him, doing nothing to get on his bad side.
“did you make a connection between the locations?” you ask curtly. he huffs. “i don’t see you doing anything helpful.” he snaps, finally looking up from his map to glare at you.
“spence,” jj begins, joining the conversation unknowingly. “any connections?” he smiles and turns to face her, like you hadn’t just asked the same question.
“the one common location that overlaps with all the crime scenes and significant places in jeffery’s life is the ‘night owl’, a local night club.” reid says, smirking at you when he finishes his sentence like a teenager. you scoff.
emily gives them a look that says “act professional please”.
“we have no idea what he looks like, we only know bits and pieces of his life that garcia could dig up, how are we going to catch him?” matt asks, leaning against a wall with his arms crossed, a coffee in hand.
“i could go undercover,” you begin with a shrug. “most of the girls he abducted have been around my age and have my same features.” emily nods in agreement.
“one issue.” rossi says. “the unsub has always abducted women on dates.” you nod. that’s true.
“i could go with you.” matt says, standing up straight and taking a sip of his coffee. you open your mouth to thank him but emily cuts you off.
“no offense simmons, but what if we sent in reid instead? he closer matches y/n’s age and resembles the victims boyfriends more closely.”
spencer opens his mouth to protest but tara cuts him off with a smile. “great idea, you guys should leave in an hour or so, you better start getting ready.”
you watch as reid fights the urge to say something rude, but is quickly whisked away by emily.
jj helps you get ready in another conference room of the precinct, dressing you like the average clubber.
your outfit is a small, tight, red mini dress, with matching heels and accessories. you had to admit, you looked good. you found yourself wondering what they had put reid in and whether he would find you attractive in this tight dress.
“you look amazing.” a voice breaks you out of your trance as you’re putting in an ear piece. you smile, turning to face emily.
“thank you.” you say softly, using your hands to smooth out your dress. “i think i’m ready.” you add, slightly nervous. emily reassures you that you will do great and asks you to follow her outside.
that’s where you’re met with spencer reid. he looks unfortunately handsome, hot even, wearing the most casual “spencer outfit” you have ever seen: corduroy pants, converse, and a white button down. the white button down was sheer linen (very beachy) and allowed you to barely see his chest. you quickly remind yourself that he is in fact a dick, hoping that will somehow make him less attractive.
you watch as his eyes wander your body. emily seems to notice and clears her throat.
“you guys gotta get going.” she breathes out a smirk on her face.
reid walks over to the side of the car. you smile slightly as he opens the door, your smile fading as he slides in alone slamming the door behind him.
“petty bitch.” you mutter. your heels angrily clicking against the asphalt as you walk to the other side of the suv, ripping open the door and sliding in with your arms crossed. you slam the door behind yourself, eyes glaring into the side of reid’s face.
“look,” you begin, your tone angry. “if this is going to work you need to at least try to pretend not to be a fucking asshole.” he scoffs, turning to face you.
“watch your tone.” he says lowly, his voice sending a shiver down your spine. your arms are still crossed and you watch as spencer’s eyes go from your face to your tits, then back up again.
you remind yourself that indeed, he's just a man. he may be a genius but behind that, he’s simply just a man with needs. you were going to make tonight hell for him.
you smirk, eyes glaring into his. “do your fucking job and i just might comply, doctor.”
he turns his head away from you, staring out the window, a new type of tension in the air.
“can you guys hear me?” jj says through you ear pieces. “yeah.” reid says, you can hear how angry he is, just through one word.
the team gives you both a rundown and reminds you both of your parts.
“…remember you’re a couple!” garcia reminds you. the team agrees loudly on the line. “yeah,” alvez says. “pretend to like each other for one night.”
“we’ll try, alvez.” you reply as the suv pulls up in front of the busy nightclub.
you look over at reid. “open my damn door and look like you fucking mean it.” you say through gritted teeth. he doesn’t respond as he steps out of the car, shutting his door quietly and makes his way over to your side of the car. he opens your door with a fake smile on his face, putting out his hand for you to grab. you get out of the car, leaning in to whisper in his ear.
“grab my waist.” you demand. he huffs under his breath, reaching his large hand to rest on your waist. he leans in to whisper back. “you will not dictate this night. i have over ten more years of experience than you, on this team. you do not get to boss me around, y/l/n.” he says through gritted teeth, pulling away from your ear with a fake smile on his face. you don’t have time to respond as he says; “let’s go, baby.”
the nickname hits you like a brick, especially the way it comes out of his mouth so effortlessly. in an attempt to control your composure, you smile and lean against him as he rubs his hand lovingly across your waist.
you both enter the night club, the mix of bright lights and darkness temporarily blinds you as you grip onto spencer for support.
“don’t respond, but we see you’ve made it inside. go grab a drink from the bar then hit the dance floor.” emily orders. spencer nods, leading you towards the busy bar.
as you approach the bar, the bartender asks what you both want. “i’ll have a club soda with lime.” spencer says, turning his head to look down at you. “what do you want, baby?” he asks, rubbing circles on your waist softly. you smile back up at him pretending like you don’t want to kill him and subtly dig your ass into his crotch. he sucks in a breath.
“i’ll have a vodka soda.” you say with a sweet smile on your face. the bartender nods going to make the drinks.
you look back at spencer, his jaw clenched and his breathing heavy. you set your phone down on the bar and “accidentally” knock it off of the counter.
“oops!” you say dryly, bending down to pick it up, your ass now rubbing against his crotch. you subtly feel something twitch in his pants.
“y/n.” he warns you. you nod innocently. “hmm?” you hum. he moves his hand from your waist. you look back at him to silently scold him, but he quickly uses both hands to push you away from his crotch. he slides his hands down your waist, to your ass, then pulls down your dress in one quick motion. a man standing to his left begins complaining loudly about how he can no longer see your "fattie". you almost thank him, then remember that its fucking spencer you're dealing with.
he doesn’t say anything and simply hands you your drink, leading you away from the bar and the creepy men, to a nearby table.
you bite your lip to hold back hateful words that dare to spill out. you stand in silence, spencer sipping his drink while you chug yours.
"you look miserable." emily says in your ears. "do something." she adds.
"wanna dance, pretty boy?" you ask him, the nickname falling from your mouth accidentally. you pretend like it was on purpose as spencer looks up from his drink, slightly stuttering over his response.
"y-yeah, yeah." he repeats, regaining his composure. he grabs your hand and leads you towards the crowd of sweaty people dancing, only looking back once to make sure you were still there
spencer scans the crowd as he pulls you into his chest harshly.
"i'm not just some doll you can throw around, reid." you yell over the music, sick of his bullshit. he looks you in the eyes and shrugs.
as the song changes, couples around you begin to make out.
"kiss me, reid." you say, realizing the awkward dancing in a crowd of horny couples would defer the unsub's attention. spencer doesn't seem to hear you. "reid." you repeat, his eyes still scanning the room. "spencer." you say, the first time you've ever said his first name to him. this catches his attention. his gaze finally falls to you, his frame towering over yours as you wrap your arms around his neck.
"i need you to kiss me, spencer."
the usually dick-ish man makes no cocky response. instead, he simply tips his head down capturing your lips in a kiss. the kiss is awkward at first, but quickly turns heated as you press your body against his. his hands, which were loosely on your waist move downward, rubbing circles on your ass and somehow moving you closer to him.
you run your hands through his hair, feeling him moan softly into your mouth. his sweet noises immediately go straight to your now-wet-core. you break the kiss for a second, to catch your breath, your faces still inches apart.
spencer's pupils are blown, his hair is messy, and his lips slightly swollen, tinted red from your lipstick. fuck, you want to devour him.
spencer quickly resumes the kiss, this time you don't have to ask. you easily feel how hard he is already, with his cock pressed against your leg.
you groan softly as you push your tongue into his mouth, eliciting more sweet noises from the handsome man.
"nice job guys, we have a suspect at 3 o'clock." emily says into our ears, reminding us that we aren't alone.
“let’s go somewhere more secluded.” spencer whispers, his breath hot on your cheek. he wants to lure the unsub out. you nod, waiting for him to move. instead his hands are still on your ass, his eyes on you, like he’s taking a mental picture.
“pretty boy.” you say almost inaudibly. “let’s go.” he spins you around so you’re in front now, able to maneuver your way out of the crowd. one of his hands rests on the small of your back protectively as you head towards the back corner of the club, a stark contrast to the way he was treating you less than 10 minutes ago.
“the hypothetical unsub’s eyes are still on you guys but he hasn’t moved, we can’t seem to see his face on camera. you need to get him to move closer.” jj announces in your ears.
“she’s telling us to kiss again.” you whisper. he nods, placing his large hand on your cheek and swiping his thumb across your lips. you wrap your arms around his neck, leaning into kiss him. he picks you up slightly, just enough to allow you to sit on him as he takes a seat on a random couch.
as he moves from kissing your lips to your jaw and neck, you instinctively begin rocking your hips against his, feeling how hard he is under you.
he groans softly against your neck, his kisses becoming sloppier.
“y/n.” his tone desperate, the use of your first name alarming. “if you keep going i might not be able to maintain professionalism.”
you bite your lip excitedly. “do you want me to stop then, spencer?” his eyes stare into yours, his hands on your hips.
“no.” he breathes out, pulling you closer to him and kissing you again. he moves his hands upwards as his lips move downwards, slowly leaving kisses and rubbing your now-visible nipples through the thin fabric for your dress. you suck in a breath at the new sensation, your head thrown back in ecstasy.
“the unsub moved into the light, it’s jeffery. sending alvez and rossi in now to apprehend him. you guys can stand down, nice work.” emily says, startling them slightly. you pull away from spencer, your underwear undeniably wet and your cunt begging for attention. you awkwardly remove yourself from his lap, sitting next to him on the sofa, noticing that in fact he was hard, an outline of his dick highlighted in the odd club lighting. he squirms in his seat slightly, obviously trying to readjust.
“y/n,” he says, noticing your eyes on him. you hum in response, your eyes moving from his cock to his face. “bathroom.” he says simply.
he doesn’t give you an opportunity to respond, simply getting up and leaving the room. you wait for a few seconds, processing his words and attempting to wrap your head around the fact that an hour ago you hated this man and now you were dying for him to fuck you.
a few minutes pass and you make your way to the bathroom where you don’t even knock, you simply walk in. spencer is there waiting. immediately as you enter the bathroom, he locks it, then attached his lips to yours. you moan softly into the kiss, jumping up to wrap your legs around his waist. he, however, seems to as other plans as he sets you down on the sink and lowers himself between your legs.
he leaves soft kisses up your thighs, your legs now thrown over his shoulders. “spencer,” you beg, his lips dangerously close to your cunt. “please.”
he smiles as you beg, hooking his finger on your underwear and pulling them down your legs roughly. he lowers his head farther in between your legs, licking a slow stripe down your cunt, causing you to squeeze your legs around his head and moan.
hearing your reaction, spencer moans softly against your pussy, the vibrations making you gasp.
unfortunately the club music had been turned off and if anyone were to walk by, they would probably hear you making sounds. you cover your mouth with your hand to make sure you guys don’t get caught.
he moves his tongue farther into you, the sound of his mouth on your soaking wet cunt making lewd sounds that fill the small bathroom.
you moan into your hand, bucking your hips against his face.
he pulls his mouth away from you and without skipping a beat he inserts one of his large fingers into you, grinding his crotch against the edge of the sink to get himself off.
you open your mouth to tease him but he interrupts you by adding another finger into your pussy. you can’t help but moan loudly, feeling your walls clench around his fingers.
“so good for me.” he says breathlessly, his fingers’ pace rough inside you and his hips fast against the sink counter.
“spencer,” you say in between ragged breaths. “i’m so close!” he smiles at your words, removing his fingers from your pussy with a pop.
you groan softly, hating the feeling of emptiness.
“spencer.” you warn, sitting up to get a good look at him. he has a look in his eye, a smirk on his face.
“what’s up?” he says nonchalantly, licking you off his lips and his fingers. you ask yourself how he can be so calm when he was literally just finger fucking you and eating you out. his cock is still dangerously hard, a spot of pre-cum on his cute little pants. you catch yourself imagining how big he is.
“fine.” you huff, seeing how he didn’t seem like he wanted you to finish. you insert your own fingers into your swollen cunt, pumping them inside yourself like spencer had been only a minute ago.
you over exaggerate your moans watching as spencer begins to rub himself through his now tight pants.
“i’m not going to beg you, pretty boy, but i need your cock inside of me right now.” he smirks at your words, making his way back over to you, hands moving to your face, kissing you passionately.
“i’m pretty sure that was begging, y/n.” he says as he pulls away from the kiss, beginning to unbutton his pants.
however, loud knocks interrupt him. "spencer?? are you in there??" emily's familiar voice, fills the room.
"uh, yeah! i'll be out in a second!" he says, beginning to re-button his pants, his cock still visibly hard. emily says something inaudible from the other side of the door then walks away. you lean forward on the sink counter, resting your head on spencer's shoulder, his arms wrapping around you.
after a second of peace, you hop of the counter in an attempt to fix your appearance, sliding back on your awkwardly soaked underwear.
"can we please finish this later?" spencer speaks up, catching you off guard. you smile, your brain still processing the fact that an hour ago you wanted to kill this man.
"yes, please."
part 2 :)
#spencer reid#criminal minds#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x reader smut#bau#criminal minds fanfic#criminal minds smut#criminal minds fandom#part one#smut#enemies to lovers#spencer reid smut#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid imagine#spenceobsessed
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
I don't need space, I need you
Mattheo and Theodore fluff
Based on this request, please don't hate me for taking 29 days to post this rather average piece, but I had a lot of requests and not a lot of time. I hope you like it!
Finally I had time to write today! Big yey for me, people. I needed it and I'm so happy I wrote something today. 💛 Sending you lots of love and of course: happy readings!
A/N: I got some stuff going on in life so if I don't respond, I'm sorry. Just know that I love you. 💛
Mattheo
“Where’s my princess?” Mattheo sings as he enters the common room in search of you. “Not here, I would check the library.” Blaise states not looking up from his book. Mattheo nods and is about to turn around to head straight for the library, but Draco’s snickering stops him from doing so. “I bet you’re pleased to have a moment of peace.” Mattheo focuses on Draco, not completely getting where the blond's going with this. “I honestly pity you, man, must be so suffocating.” Suddenly all eyes are on Mattheo and not just his friends, the entire slytherin common room is curious to hear what the big bad boy has to say. Mattheo moves a nervous hand through his curls and chuckles. “Yeah, she’s a bit much with her hugs and cuddles, and urgh those constant questions to check on me. I’m lucky she studies so much, so I have a break from time to time.” Mattheo sits down opposite of Draco who grins and nods, fully believing that Mattheo feels saved by your absence. However, Mattheo felt miserable sitting there, knowing that he could be spending time with you.
Just like Mattheo was searching the castle for you, you had been searching for him and ended up checking the common room. With watery eyes you turn around, unnoticed by anyone, and leave the common room. He thinks I’m too much?
***
“Who is it?!” Mattheo yells as he pushes you against the wall of an empty hallway. He rarely raised his voice with you, but now his face was close to yours, his eyes dark and piercing yours. He looks more pained than angry, but you just look confused. To him it was obvious, you had fallen out of love with him and probably found someone else. There was plenty of proof:
A quick kiss on the lips and a wish of good luck before Tuesday's test was all Mattheo got, instead of the tight hug and intense kiss you would normally give him before a test.
When you got your results back on Wednesday you jumped into Luna’s arms and just gave him a happy smile, while he was standing right there next to Luna. His heart ached to hold you and press you against his chest. Worse was when you asked Enzo about his test first and ended up discussing all the answers, barely giving your boyfriend any attention.
Thursday you went to sit next to Pansy in the common room, instead of settling in your boyfriend’s lap. Mattheo was forced to watch you the whole evening without touching you once. When you left for bed, you told him not to walk you to your room and reminded him to spend some much needed time with his friends. The sweet kiss you gave him, didn’t make up for any of it.
Were you trying to get rid of him? To Mattheo the case was obvious.
Friday was the worst. Happy to finally have you next to him as you were both reading, settled close by the fire. With his eyes still on the page of his own book his arm moved behind you to pull you closer and you let your head rest on his shoulder as you continued to read, but still Mattheo frowned. Normally you would sling your legs over his and cuddle up against his chest, wrapping your blanket around the both of you and creating this warm bubble of love. He could barely focus on his book, as his eyes constantly wandered to you reading next to him but not cuddled up against him like you used to.
So by Saturday Mattheo had pretty much had it with you. You rubbed your temple as squeezed your eyes. “I have a headache, I’m gonna head to my room and rest for a bit.” You got up from your seat to leave the library and Mattheo did the same. If you weren’t feeling well then he needed to be by your side. “Oh, don’t Matt. I’ll be fine. I’ll ask Pansy to give me something against the pain and settle next to me until I fall asleep.” Mattheo stood perplexed as you just kissed him and left. Now he wasn’t even good enough to take care of you anymore.
This was the moment he snapped. With stern strides he follows you.
“Who is it?!” You frowned at the question and met Mattheo’s dark eyes. “Obviously, you’re done with me. So who’s better than me, huh?” His voice was filled with anger, but his question sounded so heartbreaking, that you felt no need to get angry with him for pushing you against the wall and snapping at you. You cup his cheeks and softly shake your head. “Matt, I love you. I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Your voice is calm and endearing, reminding him of how much he needed your love. You were always so gentle with him and feeling you slip away the past week hurt so much that he felt like falling apart on the spot. He's too hurt and afraid to lose you to act tough and with a whisper he confesses his worries. “You don’t check up on me anymore. You don’t wish me luck before a test like you used to. We don’t cuddle anymore.” You stare at him in silence for a moment, you had never seen Mattheo this soft and vulnerable before.
Your hands still resting on his cheeks move to his neck as you wrap your arms around him and pull him against you. Mattheo snuggles his face in your neck, embarrassed with himself and desperate for your warmth. You rest your head against his and your fingers move through his curls, making him sigh at your touch. “You told Draco I was a bit too much. So I backed off, because I didn’t want to lose you. I know I can get clingy sometimes, I’m sorry.” Mattheo moves away to look at you and his eyes look guilty. “No, no. Don’t apologise. Don’t be sorry. I love you clingy and cuddly. I need you to be around me.” Your eyebrows knit together. “But I heard you say-” Mattheo interrupts you and shakes his head. “I was being stupid. Don’t listen to the things I say. Just stay with me and love me… overwhelm me with everything you have.” You tilt your head in confusion. “No, I mean listen to me, just forget about what I said back then. I- I was trying to act tough so I pretended to- you know.” You chuckle. “You pretended not to like cuddles, because you wanted to be a tough guy?” Embarrassed with himself Mattheo nods. “I’m a softy for you and I need my daily dose of love. I don’t need space.”
You sigh at Mattheo’s pouty face. “My boyfriend’s an idiot.” Mattheo nods and leans in for a kiss. “Please, let me take you to your room and let me take care of you, because I want nothing more than to be around you.” You pull him in for another intense kiss as an answer and as you walk to your dorm, he squeezes your hand the whole time walking.
Theodore
“Where’s my lady?” Theodore frowns as he sits down opposite of Blaise, who raises his shoulders without looking up from his book. Theo shakes his head in annoyance, he needed you like he needed cigarettes. He spent the whole day longing for your love and warm embraces. Merlin, all he wanted right now was for you to entangle your fingers with his hair and ask him about his day. “For once the two of you aren’t attached to the hip.” Mattheo quips and Draco snickers. “Must be refreshing to have a moment to yourself.” Theodore stays silent for a moment and a little further, near the common room entrance you halt in your step. “She’s so mothering, it’s almost toxic. I don’t know how you do it, mate.” Draco wiggles his eyebrows at Theo as Mattheo talks. “You know, if you ever need us to come save you, we could always come up with a code word.” Draco offers and Theodore chuckles, not knowing what to say. “It’s not toxic, but I’m happy to have a moment with you guys, because she can be a bit much. She’s always so… clingy.” You chew your lip and slowly take a step back, leaving the common room as the word ‘clingy’ rings in your head.
***
You didn’t want to lose your boyfriend due to being too clingy. So you decided to keep your distance.
Instead of spending your evening studying cuddled up with your boyfriend you ask Hermione to help you out with potions who of course never passes the opportunity to study. Keeping up his tough act in front of his friends, Theodore can’t protest as you leave the common room to go study with your friend instead of with him. Theo feels himself get cold as he sits by the fireplace with his friends. If you’re not there to keep him warm the room just feels empty and even the conversations are boring. He can’t help but curse himself for letting you go study with Hermione. Having to make peace with an evening without you, Theodore longs for the next day and having you next to him during breakfast while you talk about your plans for the day.
The next morning, at breakfast Theo only gets a small kiss from you before you turn to Pansy gossiping about some third years. Theodore can’t resist but snake an arm around you and you love his touch, but you try not to be too clingy and decide to not fully lean against him. Your boyfriend is happy to have you next to him, but disappointed that you stay engaged with Pansy’s gossip instead of giving him some much needed attention. Why were you not combing his hair with your fingers until it looked the way you preferred it? Why were you not checking if he had done all his homework? What was so bloody interesting about Pansy’s conversation?!! He was getting so annoyed that he was caught by surprise when you kissed him tenderly and headed for class. His mind and body were screaming to have you back by his side and walk you to class, but he just turned to his breakfast and spent the morning sulking.
Finally, after two days, he had you close to him, settled on his bed with a book in your hand. You were all alone in his room and you both enjoyed the peace and quiet. You lay between his legs with his arms around you, while his head rested on yours, reading some of the paragraphs of your book but mostly taking in your warmth and scent. He gives you a soft kiss on your cheek and you smile and lean against his chest. “I love you.” You whisper and his eyes shine even brighter than he smiles. “Love you too.” However, your romantic moment is ruined when Blaise and Mattheo enter. “Astronomy tower?” Mattheo raises his eyebrows at Theo who is about to decline the invitation, but you speak up first. “I was just about to meet up with Luna.” You jump up and Theodore's eyes go furious at the suggestion of you leaving. “No you’re not.” Theo snaps at you, shaking everyone in the room. “Why are you so eager to get away from me?” Theo questions and Blaise and Mattheo’s eyes move from their friend to you. You take a step back at your boyfriend's accusation. “I’m not. I’m just giving you space so you can hang out with your friends.” Theo shoots Blaise and Mattheo a dark glare. “Out! Both of you!”
As soon as the duo closes the door behind them and you and Theodore are left alone in the room Theodore gets up and towers over you. “I don’t want space, I want you. So tell me what’s going on, because I can’t stand it anymore.” His voice is stern, but you feel yourself relax as you no longer have to act differently and you can finally be honest with him. “You think I’m clingy and sometimes I’m too much… and I get that and I don’t want to lose you… so I did my best to give you some space in the hopes of saving our relationship.” Theodore’s heart aches at the soft tone of your voice. How could he make you feel like you were too much when you were all he wanted. “I’m such a shit boyfriend.” Theo sighs as he sits back down on his bed, making you frown and join him. “No, I was too much.” Theo’s head snaps to you. “You are not. I didn’t want those idiots to think I was whipped or soft or- so I said you were clingy, but you're not, if anything I am… I want you around 24/7.” Your eyes widen at his confession. “Soooo, you’re saying that ‘the’ Theodore Nott is so in love with me that he prefers cuddling over hanging with his friends.” Your boyfriend chuckles. “Yeah, so please just go back to reading in my arms and make me the happiest man alive.” You lean towards him and he meets your lips. The sweet kiss quickly turns passionate as you both fall back on the bed.
For the ones who asked to be tagged, here you go lovies: @ho3forfakeguys and @bitchoftoji
#mattheo riddle imagine#mattheo riddle#mattheo riddle x reader#slytherin boys#slytherin#theodore nott imagine#theodore nott#theodore nott x reader#pepercorgiworldwritings
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
(Not so) Quiet Evenings
Summary: Lando is alone with his son for the first time
Warnings: None, just so high risk of a baby fever
Words: 1.1k
A/N
I wanted to thank you for 1k notes on Little Update. So I wrote another dad!lando to thank all of you! <3
(I wanted to put a picture with him and a baby here but this was way too cute to not post❤️)
Carmen and Lily invited you to a small baby-free get-together. Nothing too big, just the three of you sitting together, relaxing and letting loose for a bit.
This whole thing was actually Lando's idea. He wanted to get you out of the house for a bit, sensing that you needed a little break from being a mama bear.
So he asked Lily if she could invite you over to catch up and keep your mind off of things a little. Of course, she said yes, already starting to plan the second Lando asked her.
So now the Brit is sitting on the couch, watching you rush through the apartment to grab everything you need.
"Baby, you're gonna be fine, trust me. It's just Lily and Carmen."
Halting your movements, you turn to him, your phone in one hand and your keys in the other.
"I know it's just I want this to be perfect. It's been so long since I went out."
Lando stands up and makes his way over to you, stopping right in front of you.
"You're going to be ok. Enjoy your night. Me and the little muppet are going to have a great night."
Lando strokes your arms, kissing your head to calm you down.
"Speaking of the little muppet." You turn around and grab a piece of paper from the shelf behind you. "I wrote you a little list so you don't get overwhelmed by being alone."
Lando takes the paper and reads through the different points.
Try to feed him before bed. So he sleeps a little bit longer( milk is already in the bottle)
Bath him (use the blue and the green bottles on the sink)
If he gets fussy, play the F1 intro. (Works every time!)
Try to get him to bed around 7:30 p.m.
You're going to do great. You're a super dad, and I believe in you.
"Aww, you're cute."
Wrapping his arms around you, he wishes you a lovely evening and practically pushes you out the door.
Now, standing alone in the quiet apartment, a feeling of nervousness creeps up in his body. He grips the list you gave him a little tighter and makes his way into his son's room.
Gently opening the door, he smiles at his son's sleeping figure, cuddled up in his little cot. Lando walks into the room, approaches his son and gently takes him into his arms.
Henry wakes up and looks at his dad with his adorable big blue eyes, cuddling himself into Lando's shoulder.
Lando strokes his back to settle little Henry in his arms again, feeling the soft material of his little bear pyjamas between his fingers.
"Well, hello there, little man. Slept well?" He asks, earning himself a happy gurgle.
"I take that as a yes."
He carries Henry into the living room, asking him all sorts of questions on the way.
"You also think that nobody needs fish, right? Say nothing if you agree."
Hearing complete silence from the sleeping baby in his arms, he looks down to find Henry in a deep slumber again. He laughs a little at how much they already have in common, being able to sleep everywhere.
The two continue to cuddle for a bit. Lando tells him all sorts of stories until he feels Henry getting restless on his chest.
"You getting hungry, little bud?"
Henry lets out a whine, grabbing the shirt he lays on with his little fists. Lando strokes his back to settle him again, and stands up to grab a bottle from the kitchen.
"How does Y/N do that?"
In the kitchen, he currently tries to heat the bottle while holding the baby in his arms, which turns out to be more complicated than he thought, with a squirming baby in his arm.
"How about- no, that's not going to work."
"And if I just- nope, also not."
After some time, he finally figured it out. He stuck Henry into his hoodie and held him with one hand while he prepared the bottle with the other.
Now, he is sitting in your bathroom waiting for the water to be the perfect temperature.
Let's say feeding didn't go quite as planned. The food was everywhere except Henry's mouth, on the floor, on Henry, the curtains, but mainly on Lando.
So, now that both of them needed a bath, he decided to kill two birds with one stone.
The water is warm enough now, so he grabs little Henry and climbs into the tub. The warmth engulfs their bodies as he lays down.
"Yeah, that's better. Admit it, you just wanted to bathe with me."
Henry gives his dad a toothless smile and splashes him with water. Lando giggles at his son's antics and grabs the soap to start washing him.
After he washed himself and the baby, he got both of them dressed. They are both dressed in matching quadrant hoodies, something Max gifted him as Henry was born.
Land decides the world needs to see how unbelievably cute he and Henry look, so he takes a picture and posts it on his story.
Millions of messages arrive to him in a matter of minutes, but he ignores them and makes his way over to Henry's little nursery. He is fighting to keep his little eyes open, so Lando decides it is time for him to call it a night.
The second he lays him down in his crib, he starts to whine, not liking the loss of his father's warmth one bit.
So Lando picks him up again, walks to the living room and sits on the couch.
"You don't want to sleep yet, do you?"
He coos at him and bounces up and down to settle Henry a little. Happy to be in his dad's arms again, he settles back down and closes his eyes.
"Oh, so now you wanna sleep? Little evil genius, you got that from your mom."
Not wanting to wake him up, Lando decides to stay on the couch and watch some TV until Henry is sleeping deep enough. It doesn't take long for Lando to doze off, one hand on his son's back and the other under his butt, having him in a safe grip.
And that's exactly how you found them two hours later, cuddled up on the couch, the TV playing in the background.
Smiling to yourself, you take out your phone and take a picture of the two of them, definitely posting that later. But for now, you walk up to them and cuddle yourself to your perfect little family.
#lando norris x y/n#lando norris oneshot#lando norris fanfic#lando norris x reader#lando norris imagine#dad! lando norris#dad!driver#lando norris#formula one#dad!lando
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
a little something I started but probably won't ever finish - alternate first meeting steddie! post s3, pre s4
(context: in an effort to cheer up his perpetually grumpy new neighbor, Eddie broke out his old skateboard and immediately ate shit for it. Cue Red calling none other than Steve Harrington to solve the problem...)
Red was barely in the door when Harringron turned on him, jaw clenched and fingers twitching. Having those dark eyes focused so entirely on him nearly made Eddie dizzy.
His lips were moving and- oh shit. Eddie was totally supposed to be listening.
"Uh, what?"
"What are you doing hanging around Max?"
Eddie frowned. "We're neighbors?"
"So?"
"So I'm being… neighborly? Is that illegal?"
"Neighborly is getting someone's mail while they're out of town. Not a super senior hanging around with a girl who's not even in high school yet."
"You better be fucking careful what you're accusing me of, Harrington, because to be honest, you don't look any better. Don't think I haven't heard your beemer pull up at all hours of the night. What the fuck is that about, huh? King Steve likes 'em young?"
Eddie's back hit the trailer before the last word even left his mouth. All the breath rushed out of him at once as Harrington pinned him with one arm across his shoulders.
"Don’t fucking say that," he seethed. "She's like my sister. I'm not- I wouldn't hurt her."
Eddie reached up to pat Harrington's arm placatingly, sending him as sweet a smile as he could muster.
"Hey, I believe you, man. I'm a little lost, sure, but I believe you." He sent a look to the trailer to his right. "Now can you let me down before Muriel sends Axel out to break your arm?"
Harrington followed his gaze and, upon seeing Muriel frowning from behind her curtains, dropped Eddie faster than if he'd told him he had the plague.
"We're in my kingdom now, Harrington," he said, grinning and waving in Muriel's direction. "These are my people. We take care of each other here. And Red's one of us, whether you like it or not."
Steve frowned, opened his mouth to respond, maybe even protest, but Eddie cut him off.
"I was just trying to make the kid smile, okay? So I got out my old skateboard, did a few tricks, busted my shit." He held up the ice pack he'd stolen from Red's fridge. "She called you 'cause she said you'd know what to do."
Harrington was quiet. Noticeably, he did not apologize for jostling Eddie's extremely sore wrist, but whatever.
"Did she?"
"Yeah, man, I tried to talk her out of it, but she seemed pretty confident you'd pick up. And here you are, so…"
"No, I mean- did she have fun?"
Eddie shrugged. "I mean, she didn't look as miserable as usual. Laughed a couple times when I fucked up a dismount. What's up with that, by the way? The constant dispair?"
Harrington's whole body tensed, and Eddie was almost scared he was gearing up to punch him just for asking.
"You remember Billy Hargrove?" he replied, his voice tight.
Eddie couldn't help but sneer at the mention of that piece of shit. Wayne had always taught him not to speak ill of the dead, but that didn't mean he couldn't think some choice things about him. Like the fact that he was pretty sure the guy was rotting in hell for all the things he'd said to Jeff in the school halls.
"Unfortunately. What about him?"
"He was Max's older brother. Step-brother."
"That's..."
"Fucked?" Harrington supplied. Eddie nodded. "Yeah. So I just- I need to make sure another Hargrove doesn't come around. Sorry I got all... you know. I've been told I can be kind of intense."
"No shit," Eddie laughed. "No hard feelings, I guess. Since it's in Red's best interest."
"No hard feelings," Harrington echoed. "Thanks for looking out for her."
Then, something Eddie had never even dreamed of: Harrington stuck his hand out, clearly expecting a handshake.
Huh.
It was over in a second, but Eddie's hand burned where Steve's had been.
"No problem. I'm kind of the park babysitter," Eddie replied. "Part of the job description."
Harrington lit up at that.
"I babysit too! Max and a few of her friends. 'S why I'm always around. I'm usually playing chauffeur for one of the other gremlins."
"That makes more sense than you having a torrid love affair with Susan."
"Yeah, she's not really my type," Harrington said with a smirk.
Eddie watched in shock as Harrington's eyes slowly, deliberately dipped up and down his form.
Talk about fucking whiplash. Eddie could still feel Harrington's strong arm against his chest, the brush of Harrington's nose against his own, the heat of Harrington's breath on his face. And now the king was checking him out?
"I see. Not into MILFs?"
Eddie was in the middle of making plans to staple his big stupid mouth shut when Harrington laughed.
"I'm more into brunettes."
And boy, didn't that seem pointed.
#steve harrington#stranger things#eddie munson#steddie#max mayfield#steddie fic#steddie fanfiction#ej writes#ej posts#ok to rb
3K notes
·
View notes
Text
TITLE: Venom Biter
PAIRING: Minho x reader
SUMMARY: The end of a relationship between you and Minho turns as sour as it could ever get. A lovers to enemies trope.
WARNING: minors DNI with this post or my blog. I create NSFW SKZ related content and I know I won't be able to regulate every single interaction with those posts so please do not engage with my work or page whatsoever.
TAGS: breakups, hate sex, post-breakup sex, unprotected sex, swearing, angst, manhandling, push and shove, spitting, choking, oral sex (f!reader receiving), angst, strong hints of degradation, use of degrading names such as 'slut' and 'whore'.
A/N: this was originally meant to be for one of the days I had planned for Kinktober but I was up to my neck in work and I didn't want to post something sort of half-assed so I had to hone down on most of the work for this piece.
MASTERLIST
“Broke up?” Chan’s eyes refuse to blink. “You two broke up!?”
His confused filled stare shoots for the direction of his best friend, Minho, who quietly sits opposite him across the table. He looks slightly withdrawn or…off colour. It can’t have been the gruelling two hour lecture they finished before heading out to lunch. If it were that, Minho would be complaining his head off saying how boring it was or cursing himself for not changing his minor earlier.
He’s just not his usual self. In other social settings, he could talk until the cows came home. But the entire hour that they’ve spent together at lunch, Chan has been doing all the conversing and only receiving vague one-word answers. It wasn’t until he asked what was up with Minho that his friend dished out the news that he and his girlfriend - you, had split up.
“Why?” Chan proceeds, still swimming in shock.
A sigh leaves Minho’s mouth. He truly doesn’t feel like revisiting this subject. When he even thinks about the answer, all he can recall is the firey shouting match you both had the day things crumbled.
“It’s messy,” he replies with a cloudy and ambiguous answer.
“If you talk about it, then it might help you make sense of it all.”
He groans this time, “I really, really don’t want to do that. What’s done is done.”
“Done?” Chan questions, still not letting up on an interrogation. “You were in a relationship with Y/N, for years. You guys talked about a whole future together. That’s not something you just sweep under the rug and forget about.”
If there’s one thing he almost did forget about, it’s that you were friends with him - not just Chan, but the seven others as well. After all, it was Minho who introduced you to those select people whom he calls his brothers. They would’ve found out eventually if Minho refrained from telling them who you were dating all those years ago.
Though naturally, you became very close with them.
“We’ve both chosen to do that so there’s nothing really much left to dispute.”
Chan’s eyebrows furrow, realising he left out a crucial question to the situation, “why did you guys break up in the first place?”
Minho feels like he’s going to run out of sighs, “she doesn’t love me anymore and I don’t love her anymore. That’s literally all there is to it.”
“You’re telling me you both fell out of love - at the same time,” Chan responds, still having a difficult time trying to comprehend his friend's situation.
“Pretty much,” Minho confirms with a nod.
Chan finds that extremely hard to believe from his friend - the very person who would enter a different realm whenever he was in a five centimetre radius of you. His eyes would glaze over as if he were possessed; always fixated on you, he’d smile more than he usually would, and was comfortable in the space around you.
There had to be another reason, surely.
But it had almost been three weeks since Chan dissected the news out of Minho, and it was almost like pulling teeth trying to dive for the details. Each attempt was as fruitless as the next and in the end, Chan just plucked the same answers.
Regardless, it seemed to play out better than expected. Minho saved himself from having to dish out explanations as to why you wouldn’t be around anymore. As a result, telling Chan was the best option and since the others didn’t know, Minho was okay with him telling them so that he didn’t have to.
In saying that, Minho left out very central details of what happened leading up to the breakup. He never mentioned the constant fighting, the lying, the false accusations, the shouting matches, up until the point where you were both swimming in the toxicity the pair of you created.
He also absconded from the fact to Chan that not only did you both separate, but you’ve also both come to view the other differently and not through a good lens. Minho shouted it in your face the other day to which you did the same; “I hate you.” And that was that.
But his friends probably didn’t need to know all of that.
Since that day, you’ve been in the process of trying to find an apartment for yourself which isn’t easy. You want to remain in town and not too far out so that you don’t have a long commute to work, and at the same time, you don't want to break the bank trying to find a nice place to rent in the city. All in all, it was tough, but you were ready to just leave.
Having packed up the majority of your stuff in boxes, all you had to do was wait for landlords to contact you back about possible vacant apartments. Thankfully Minho was lenient in allowing you to stay until you found a place.
You slept in the spare room, mainly keeping to yourself and the boxes of things surrounding the space. Occasionally you would have to lock yourself in there and throw on some noise-cancelling headphones whenever Minho brought around another woman to sleep with.
It was his house, you knew that and now that you have no ties to him and he’s letting you stay, it was never your place to question his actions.
Still, that could never lessen the hurt. It was painful which is why you hated him so much. You don’t know how a person could move on so quickly after so many years of being told how much you’re loved. It was like he never meant it. With that being said, when you eventually managed to find a decent place, you were free from Minho.
All of your items were ready to be moved out, taking a couple of days to actually get them to your new place. In the tiring process, you also had to factor in your work schedule which meant it would take longer to continue moving your stuff. Nonetheless, you had the majority of your boxes out of Minho's house with only a few remaining that you needed to swing by and pick up.
"Something wrong?" he wears a blank look on his face when you arrive on the doorstep to his house.
"Some of my stuff is still here, can I come in to grab it please?" You ask politely. He gives a silent answer in return by opening his door wider for you to walk in before he goes back to whatever it was he was doing.
You make your way into the spare room where the last of your things remain, but there is one odd detail you notice as you approach the items. What was supposed to be taped down lids to the boxes had in fact been opened; not in the state you had originally left it in.
"Minho," you call out, hoping he heard you.
Sure enough, he did. Minho walks into the spare room with a puzzled expression, wondering why he's been summoned, "what?"
“Why are these open?” You ask, lifting one box off of the other to check if the rest were open as well. “Half of my stuff isn’t in here.”
“You were coming back for those?” he replies with a question.
“What the hell else would I be coming back here for?”
“That's what I thought when you got here,” he says. “I thought it was for other things that you left behind, not ones in these boxes."
Your eyes never leave his face, tracking any sudden shifts in his muscles to try to figure out if he’s actually telling the truth or not. Even though you and Minho aren’t together, you're sure he wouldn't do anything malicious out of spite.
“So why is half my stuff missing?”
Minho pinches the bridge of his nose, “I thought you didn’t need any of it and that you left it here on purpose for me to deal with or throw out.”
“So what…” you trail off, expecting his answer. Minho hesitates for a few moments, sitting on the fence about whether he should actually tell you or not. But the least he can do right now is be honest.
“I told the…girl I bought around the other day that if she wanted anything-“
“No you fucking didn’t.”
“-she could have whatever was left in the boxes,” Minho finishes the rest of his sentence which would’ve been better for you not to hear.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?”
“What the fuck is wrong with me? What the fuck is wrong with you for leaving them behind in the first place!” Minho argues back, trying to defend himself here even though he knows he’s in the wrong. “You were gone for a few days Y/N, I thought you just left!”
“I never left them behind! I told you how long it was going to take my things to move!” You shout at him, tears brimming your eyes. “Now my stuff…”
The hurt genuinely sets in. Minho feels a sharp stab of pain in his chest when he sees how visibly upset you are. He knows that he’s been nothing short of a dickhead within the past month and now he’s gone and made things worse. It’s no point in him now to say that it was an honest mistake.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know, truly.”
You shove him backwards into the dresser, knocking down some of the empty photo frames that were once homes for pictures of you and Minho, “you’re not sorry. You’re the fucking worst.”
Taken aback by your actions, Minho turns behind him to see the frames flat on the surface then looks back at you, “seriously Y/N, I would not have done that out of spite.”
“But it’s the fact that you still did it!” You raise your voice at him and shove him back again. “You didn’t bother calling or texting me about it when you should’ve!”
Minho predicts your next move and catches your arms to stop you from pushing him back impossibly further into the dresser. He shoves you back, the back of your knees hitting the edge of the bed which causes you to land on it behind you.
Before the surprise kicks in, Minho is kneeling on top of you, nearly straddling your lower half as he starts pinning your arms to the side of your head. Yet with a split second of momentum to break free, you struggle but manage to flip the tables and pin Minho on his back.
You mount his hips before your mouth comes down to kiss Minho so aggressively that it takes him a moment to react. With any other woman that he’s slept with so far, he would allow them to be on top. But because it’s you, and supposedly hates your guts, not to mention his untapped pride, it’s not going to happen. So Minho fights back, kissing and biting nearly every part of your upper body in the process until you’re under him.
He sucks large, deep, red hickies into the skin of your neck, in places where everyone would be able to see them. Minho would want people to know that you’re just a whore he uses. Especially for the next guy you sleep with who would go down on you and see the myriad of hickies that Minho would eventually put between your thighs when he rips your pants down.
“Wanna play this fucking game with me,” he rasps before yanking down your off.
Despite being a dickhead Minho will still eat you out for prep. But it’s not soft and teasing when he does go down on you. It’s tongue and finger fucking you until you’re dizzy from how hard you’re about to cum. It gives you the opportunity to pull and tug on his hair until his scalp starts burning, forcing you to be as vocal as you’ve ever been.
His fingers curl up into that sensitive spot while his tongue and mouth work simultaneously. He’s always been good at giving head, but unusually better now that he’s relatively angry. In the back of your mind, you supposed it helped having not slept with anyone for a month, making it easier to reach that peak of delicious, eye-rolling ecstasy.
“Fuck!” you scream out, voice projecting throughout the room as Minho sucks on your clit. “Fuck you…you’re gonna make me cum.”
Those words are something Minho could never get tired of hearing you say. Even in the headspace that he’s in now, he wants nothing more than to hear how good he’s making your body feel. However, he doesn’t need verbal confirmation from you to know that you’re about to cum. When your walls seize and clamp around his fingers, when you’re trembling around his head, Minho knows what that means.
The quick drag of his fingers is only light work for him, pumping at a pace that has you panting to try and keep up with it. As a result, it’s not long before Minho brings you to your sweet release; a toe-curling burst of euphoria that has you silently creaming around his fingers.
He has no patience for you to descend from your orgasm, sucking his fingers clean as he pulls away from your pussy. He gets to unbuckling his belt faster than he can even comprehend that this is still happening.
“H-Hurry,” you whine, trying to quell the hunger for Minho’s cock while you wait.
His eyes squeeze shut, hissing as he coats his length with your slick, “shut the fuck up.”
Despite being in a haze post-orgasm, you manage to sit up quickly to turn and push Minho down by his shoulders. You find yourself straddling his hips once more, reaching down and behind for his cock, aligning it with your hole. Minho allows you to work for it yourself, watching his cock vanish by the second as you sink down.
“Mmm…f-fuck,,” you whine, unable to come to grips with how much you miss him filling you out.
Taking a couple of slow strokes up and down allows you to realise that never in your wildest dreams could you ever imagine hate sex with Minho would be this…rough. Both of you pushing, shoving, and manhandling each other around, speaking to each other with such disregard for the other person's feelings – beyond the point of degradation.
“Come on,” Minho grunts, fingernails embedding themselves into your hips so that the indents remaining become as equally as vibrant as the hickies blooming on your neck.
You look down at him with disgust before your hand lowers to his throat, choking him out by the sides of his neck. That familiar feeling of restriction to Minho forces him to repress his sick enjoyment of it, even more so when you start really riding him.
“Fuck you,” you strain out, trying to assert some degree of control even though you’re battling with oversensitivity from your previous orgasm.
You slam your hips down repeatedly, building up a good pace and rhythm that’s enough for small moans to force their way out of your mouth. With a cock like Minho’s, it’s impossible to keep quiet no matter how much you try. However, as you work for your own orgasm, you don’t want to give him any satisfaction by making him think that he’s the one doing it; yet in reality, he is.
Nonetheless, you continue to use him just as much as he’s using you until the luxury of pleasure accelerates in the pit of your stomach. In saying that, it doesn’t take long for Minho to find that information out as you continue to ride him. The observation is clear-cut;
“Nobody’s fucked you since me haven’t they?” He asks you breathlessly, watching you roll your hips deliciously over his cock. “Know how I can tell? Because you keep fucking clenching around my dick.”
Your eyebrows furrow, struggling to find an answer for him because he is right and that’s not your fault, “s-so what? Want me to stop?”
“Didn’t say that, did I?” He argues back, too proud to say ‘no’. “Just…just keep moving.”
A firm hand of yours catches his taut jaw, and while his mouth is open, you lean down and spit right in it.
You curse right at him, “fuck you.”
His eyes lock with yours and for a moment, Minho is shocked, but not in a bad way. In that moment you despised him so much that he made you do something a normal person would find disgusting. Although it’s not long before a sick smirk spreads across his face, failing to pretend as if he didn’t just enjoy that, swallowing it back.
“Course you’d be into that you fucking whore,” he rasps, his body jolting every time your hips slam down.
“I’m not the whore who’s taking it,” you snipe back at him.
Your comment riles Minho, resulting in him nearly bucking you off his body before flipping you onto your stomach. He yanks both of your hands behind your back as something for him to latch onto when he pushes his cock back into you, and starts fucking hard and fast.
“Yes, yes, yes, fuck…” you whimper, eyes fluttering shut.
The new angle makes his dick slip in just that extra bit deeper, achieving a sensation which you miss all too much. With the amount of relentlessness that Minho puts behind his thrusts is nothing but a fast, brutal, and unforgiving type of fucking. He’s not holding back with you, no matter how much you hate him and he hates you, he will fuck you to tears.
“Such a fucking slut,” he drives forward nastily. “Needy, loud, slut.”
Your choked moans and whimpers are typical responses to hearing him call you that name again. In bed, if you weren’t his lover, you were his slut. Minho wouldn’t care less if the bed broke beneath him trying to fuck you like the whore you always wanted him to treat you as. But it was phenomenal.
Now, that’s only a distant memory clawing to come back.
“Make me cum…make me fucking cum,” you demand, acknowledging how close you are to the cliff of ecstasy.
Minho's breathing picks up from hearing the pure desperation in your voice, and so does his pace. His only release is not but a minute away, respecting that and also his motive to continue rearranging your guts.
Yet the possibility of keeping up any longer draws to a short term. Minho’s hold on your wrists behind your back becomes a solid death grip with no chance of escape until the wet heat from your pussy has his hips jumping out of rhythm.
His head tilts to the sky, the pleasure screaming at him from the base of his cock, “y-yes, fuck I'm cumming.”
At that very instant, Minho’s release rocks him over. His hands let go of yours in lieu of grabbing onto your ass instead. The pain and sting of his fingernails scraping deep into your flash forces strained whimpers and mewls from your throat, helping to push you over the verge of your second orgasm.
“Y-Yes, cumming, oh fuck-” you cry out with a shaky voice, stiffening while your hole seizes rhythmically around Minho’s length.
The pleasure is throat-gripping, making you forget the words to express how good you feel. Except, in the vapour of your orgasmic haze, you still don't want to accept the fact that it's Minho who makes you feel that way.
He pauses for a moment then thrusts hard back into you, making you keep the warm load that you were so undeservingly given, regardless if your walls are spasming and contracting it out. Then just as he was fast to try to get inside you, he's just as fast when he pulls out and flops beside you.
The air in the room becomes breathable again now that your heart rate isn't racing to the heavens, but picks back up quickly when you decide to hop off the bed and get dressed. You couldn't care less if you were sore and unbalanced. The thought of staying in the room with Minho any longer was suffocating.
“About your stuff,” he starts, filling the silent void with an exasperated voice. “I’ll try to get it back.”
You zip your jeans up, “don’t bother. I know you did give it away for whatever reason, but for what reason is something I’m betting you’ll take to the grave with you.”
Minho is up and now following suit by putting his clothes on. If now is the time to get one thing off of his chest, it’s now. Since the day you both separated, there has been no proper conversation. Both of you are too stubborn to admit wrongs and fix rights, but in your eyes, it's too far gone. There’s no going back to a good thing that was once more.
"I won't if we can just talk it out," he offers the opportunity to you.
“Minho, the nights that I had to listen to you fuck someone else in the next room right after we just broke up was a clear sign that we did not need to talk it out. All it made me do is realise that you didn't actually love me."
“That’s not true,” he shakes his head as you hear a twinge of desperation in his voice like he's pleading his case. "That's not true at all."
"It is though," you correct him. "You were free to sleep with whoever you wanted to because we had broken up at that point, but not a day after that did you wait."
Minho follows through with his explanation, “I was trying to get you out of my head. Spending too long just thinking about you makes me want to lose it. It didn't mean that I never loved you before."
“So you’re just going to continue being delusional? To fuck your way through trying to forget me?” You question, nearly laughing. "I honestly think you're just being pathetic."
He shrugs, “if it means that I don’t have to feel heartbreak, then yes.”
Part of you gets it. Minho’s found a vice and is using it as a tool to deal with his pain. But you’re in pain too, and you haven’t done anything to upset him ever since you split. Maybe it is as bad for him as he says it is. Maybe he doesn’t truly know how to navigate himself out of this like you’re attempting to.
It’s almost a rebuttal to your statement about whether he truly loved you or not; if he’s using other people to drive the thought of you out of his brain because it’s too painful to deal with, then maybe you were more than just a lover to him.
"I mean this in the nicest way possible, but I cannot stand being around you anymore because of how much it hurts to know that you're not actually with me. I'd rather try to forget your existence in order to not feel that type of heartbreak," Minho explains, his words coming from a place inside him that must've just opened up.
But he continues, "the second we split, I needed every last memory of you out of this house. But I know that this hurts you too and that this past month I’ve hurt you and that’s no justification to say that my reason is because you mean more than my entire life.”
There’s an ache in your chest that you’ve never felt before, a blend of all the emotional pain that could’ve been prevented had the two of you just talked. But that ache is fuelled by the fact that you can hear the waiver in Minho’s voice, and even though his back is still turned to you while he sits on the edge of the bed, you’re sure he’s crying.
-
A/N: Dare I say that I want to make a part 2 to this where Minho and reader try to rekindle, things are pretty tender but they sort of want to make it work...
900 notes
·
View notes
Text
under pressure
• pairing: theodore nott x reader
• now playing: linger by the cranberries
• word count: 2.4k
• genre: angst
— an old piece that i never finished but i just wanted to post something because my account is so dead. i know exams work differently in hogwarts but for this one, let's just pretend that they do a semestral exam also.
“Theo?” You call from behind him, as you enter the common room where he sits in solitude.
He makes no sound to acknowledge that he’s heard you, simply continuing to stare off into space. Long, slender fingers rhythmically tapping on his thighs.
Ignoring this, you make yourself comfortable on the nearest available seat, angling your body to face him. “You would not believe what I got for History of Magic!” You excitedly begin and with much enthusiasm, “But first you have to guess!”
Again, a silence greets you. This sparks concern in you since it was very unusual behaviour from him. But before you could ask, he emits a curious hum, still not looking directly at you. “What did you get?”
“You’re no fun.” You playfully jab at him, trying to lighten up the atmosphere. “Anyways! I got an Outstanding! Can you believe that?”
“It would’ve been hilarious if you hadn’t.” Is all he says in a deadpan, hollow voice. “What do you mean by that?” You prod.
“Imagine taking all of my time just for you to fail once again. I would have actually thrown myself off the pitch. ”
The muted glow of the scattered lamps and candles cast shadows on the walls, creating an ambiance that mirrors the strained emotions between you and Theo. The distant sound of chatter and laughter in the dorm rooms only served to accentuate the silence that ensued.
He sighs, “I am tired. Tired of your complaining, of your whines, of your stupidity over such a simple course. You are so excited over this when it isn’t something to be necessarily proud of. You know…” Theo trails off in an amused manner as if he has realised something funny.
“I find it funny how you are sitting all proud and excited about this one exam when in reality, it was all because of me. You wouldn’t have even gotten half of what you had if it weren't for me or with the help of the others. Leeching off of us like a goddamn parasite who hasn’t a mind of her own.”
Words fail you, unable to conjure up even a whisper in your shock. You stand up slowly, breathing out an unsteady exhale.
The words break on your skin like whips, cracking and splitting open still healing wounds.
“I have never asked you for anything, need I remind you? You were the one who insisted on spending your oh so precious time teaching me. Time and time again, I reassured you that I could do it myself because I didn’t want you to waste it on me. Yet, it was always fine with you and you were adamant on doing it so don’t you dare put this on me now.” You grit out. “I have no idea as to why you are acting like a rabid dog, snapping at me unprovoked, but nothing will ever warrant that kind of behaviour. “ You shake your head sharply, glaring at him from underneath your eyebrow.
You felt yourself becoming dizzy with panic and anxiety, confusion with the whole situation making it worse by the second. It was spreading so quickly and far into the recesses of your soul that you would fall to your knees if not for the support of the couch behind you.
Not willing to have him see you break down from his nonchalant words that were deliberately chosen to attack your deepest insecurities— unable to understand how it so easily came from the last person you expected it from. You quickly move towards the stairs, ignoring the weak call of your name.
Tick, tock, tick, tock.
Seconds—or was it minutes— slipped away since you have made the decision to lock yourself in your room. Leaving the room before everything gets worse. Surrounding yourself with a number of inked parchments that are filled with hundreds of thousands of words, none of which your brain registers. Despite your earnest desire to find solace with work, it was all futile as they were only mere words on paper that held no significance in comparison to what was brewing in your mind.
Instead, an incessant question pesters you. Was it really something to be so excited over? Lost in a silent deep rumination, accompanied only by the rhythmic flutter of an owl's wings as they flew past your open window and the rustling trees to occupy the silence.
Tick, tock, tick, tock.
The clock is still there to remind me of the hours that have passed— 3 and a quarter to be precise.
Perhaps you were being too over the top but you hadn’t meant to. The pure, unadulterated exhilaration overwhelmed you after Professor Binns called you aside after your last exam. It had become an accepted knowledge to you that History of Magic wasn’t necessarily your strongest suit. Enough so that it would’ve been perfectly fine for you to receive a less-than-average result.
To hear how exceptional you had done this time, possibly even greater than many of your classmates, your mind instinctively went to share your achievement with Theo. After all, he was the one who patiently dedicated hours guiding you in your review and it took precedence over his own. Assurances, that came off as more of arrogance, of how he would do just fine and that he could ace it even if he wore a blindfold.
Maybe that’s where it all went wrong. Could it have been the lack of sleep before? He does get a bit irritable with a lack of rest. You’ve seen it personally in the weeks that lead up to Quidditch games. The fatigue, in addition to the stress of the final exams before the holidays, must’ve steered him into that state.
Despite feeling upset and somewhat finding fault within yourself, you couldn’t muster up the will to apologise first. While his behaviour tonight could have been explainable, for goodness’ sake, the way that he has gone about it was unwarranted— shouting and hurling the harshest words that he is capable of, at you. The person that rejected every offer, made by him, because you were scared to impose on his studying hours. Now he cannot even be happy at what you had worked so dedicatedly on with him?
After spending hours in the cold and dark room, doing nothing but ruminating on the argument, you realise that you refuse to allow his words to dampen your joy and excitement any more than they have already. Sitting up straight, you stretch your arms wide. Swiftly tidying the scattered papers and dried pens into an acceptable arrangement in your trunk before you settle down beneath your duvet cover. Giving up on the idea of getting any work done when your mind was elsewhere.
The both of you made plans to have a sleepover in your dorm room after your roommates announced that they would be spending the night elsewhere. However, it will be safe to say that the idea had crumbled into non-existence after the heated exchange of words between the two of you.
As you lay there on your side, facing the stone wall with your back to the door, you couldn’t help but reflect on your argument. A hailing storm brewed in the furrows of your mind, unable to piece together what exactly you should do. The only thing you wanted was to hear his beating heart beneath you as you lay on his chest. But you knew that it wouldn’t be right for yourself to concede.
Of all the ways that you’ve imagined for him to react, what had truly occurred did not even appear in your mind. It left you tossing and turning in frustration and confusion, unable to fall asleep in peace. Only the warmth and lasting scent of his cologne on your duvet keep you calm— the realisation that you couldn’t even properly be mad at him makes you huff.
In the silent war within you, you were deaf to the aged door groaning in protest as its rusty hinges emitted a creaking sound that left the person behind it wincing. Nor did you hear the unusually gentle footsteps that followed.
So much so that even the shadows that lurked within the walls would have thought that the footsteps were a figment of their imagination. In the way that the presence hesitated outside of your room as if they were heavily contemplating.
It was only at the weighted dip of the bed behind you and the hesitant arm that crept around your waist that were you pulled from your trance. Yet, you bore no intent of recognition for him even as he had fully suited himself behind you with his chin tucked in the crook of your neck.
As his presence enveloped you, he began with a slight tremor in his voice. “Y/N…I-“
“I could write and speak a thousand sorry’s and reasons for why the words had so easily slipped from my lips, but they will never unspeak them from existence. I promised your mama that I will never let a speck of hurt flash across those eyes, and I will forever apologise to her for breaking that promise.” A shaky exhale lines the last few syllables. “I was so unnecessarily horrible and mean to you without meaning to. So consumed by this- this emotion that flooded me, something that I had lost control over.”
Every syllable was accompanied by a hesitant tone that left the words sounding shaky; nervous. Coupled with the drop of tears that lined your neck right where his head sat.
You listened, listening to his apology, but the wounds were still fresh. The echo of his sharp words runs deep beneath your skin, embedded into your bones, prickling with every second you are reminded of them. The sincerity in his voice clashed with the pain he had caused with his words, leaving you torn between the desire to understand and the reluctance to let go of the hurt.
“You really hurt my feelings, Theo.” If he wasn’t already drowning in misery, hearing his name fall from your lips after he worked many weeks to be called something else had him gasping for breath. “I genuinely want to forgive you, but at this moment, I can’t quite find it in me to do so. You blew up on me for absolutely no reason. I need you to help me understand, to give me a reason behind your outburst, not mere words of guilt. Because even if you say sorry a thousand times, I would never be able to forgive you for clearly attacking me where I would greatly feel it.
His voice, meek in the tense air between the two of you, unfolded with a raw honesty that lays bare his desperation for this to be over.
“The exhaustion from lack of sleep and finding that I barely got a passing grade…It was a bit too much for me. I have no idea why it even bothered me when, for so long, I could hardly give a damn about these stupid exams," he shared, sighing with exasperation.
A pang of guilt and shame flared within your chest at the knowledge. The initial shadow of hesitation and guilt that crept on you the days before came rushing back in. You should’ve known better than to allow him to persuade you. Turning around on the bed to face him. But before you could wallow yourself in these emotions, Theo quickly puts your mind to rest.
“Don’t blame yourself, darling.” He tenderly pushes a thumb against the forming frown on your forehead. “I should have told you that I needed to study also instead of leaving it to luck. I guess I was being a bit of a confident prick that got used to not reviewing for an exam that I fully forgot I missed a few lectures a few weeks ago. I truthfully never had and never will blame you, not when I had been the one, adamant enough, to help you out despite your protests.”
His admission carried a mix of self-awareness and remorse. The vulnerability that was clear in his words began to bridge the hesitance inside of you to relax, the layers of miscommunication slowly peeling away.
You could sense the weight he carried. Despite his casual indifference to his studies, you knew that it was something that he silently prided himself in. To have that be ruined in addition to the cumulative stress that built up over time with his hectic schedule. Being reminded that even if he may seem so perfect on the surface, beneath that, he was still human; flawed, vulnerable, and young. Although the hurt had begun to shift, not fully dissipating yet, it had turned into a sense of empathy that allowed you a clarity of thinking.
A small, understanding hum escaped you. The strain in your voice is gone now, ”We need to work on our communication, then. No longer hiding things from each other for any reason, even if we think it does not matter. Part of our relationship is to work our problems side by side, even if it doesn’t concern the other. We shouldn’t have things fester until it explodes on us.”
He nods, burying his head back into the crook of your neck. “I’m sorry. I should’ve told you.” You gently pull his head back and look at him fondly. “And we need to also address the way you spoke to me earlier. Just because we were in the heat of the moment and lost in our emotions does not mean you have the right to do that, not when my mom raised me without raising her voice.”
“I’m really sorry. Merlin…I can still see the look on your face and I don’t think I would ever forget and forgive myself for being the reason behind it”.
“I won’t say I forgive you just yet, that’s a boundary crossed for me. We should’ve had this talk in the beginning but better now than never. Let’s take a pause for now, and resume this conversation with a clear head.” He met your gaze with a blend of appreciation and a sense of resolve.
masterlist
#harry potter#theodore nott#theo nott#theodore nott x reader#theodore nott x y/n#theodore nott x you#theodore nott fluff#theodore nott angst#theodore nott imagine#theodore nott fanfic#theodore nott fanfiction#slytherin#theodore nott oneshot
653 notes
·
View notes
Text
roadhogsbigbelly is doubling down. genuinely incredible (yes i am aware how deeply funny it is to start a serious post with that sentence. it is my one allotment of levity)
oh okay you just assumed that "loliporn" was involved and something that i deserved to be associated with defending and accused of making "integral to the queer identity" because of stuff that the OP (who i cannot stress enough i never followed or talked to or knew in any fucking way!) did that got called out months after i made my addition?
youtube
the rest of his post is just a very lengthy way of saying "umm if you didn't want to be called a pedophile because you were mean about stardew valley maybe you should be more careful about how you reblog from". yeah buddy im sure you apply that standard to yourself too huh. im sure you pull out your Bad Person detector every time you reblog a fucking post and beam OP with it. you literally screenshot my post about how as a trans women i get this standard uniquely applied to me and went "um its a good standard though. answer for the actions of every fucking person youve ever reblogged a post by".
and all this whole fucking schtick where he's like "ummmm im not calling you a pedophile :) i just assumed you thought 'loliporn was integral to the queer identity' based on source: i made it up and am going out of my way to repeatedly say you're agreeing with pedophiles and not being wary enough about pedophiles and that 99% of people who make the type of post im accusing you of making are pedophiles" is so fucking pathetic and if you fall for it you are a blatant transmisogynist like come the fuck on man.
i am no longer having a nice time on the computer, i am pretty fucking angry. and all this because he "doesnt have much skin in the game" but he doesn't like my stardew valley takes! yeah man real proportionate response.
not to mention the aside he makes to say 'wah wah someone told me to kill myself' amiguito do you have any fucking idea what my inbox has looked like since this entire transmisogynistic harassment campaign began a week ago? i delete those asks because i'm not into flaunting every piece of online abuse i get to make myself look like the victim in computer arguments but it has been constant and graphic! breaking news, women are people too, some of the most cutting-edge research suggests they might even have feelings!
"oh i censored her identity i dont know how she even found it" oh okay so you were anonymously pedojacketing me to your thousands of followers while vaguing about a post i made that had thousands of notes and using the same screenshot that an uncensored version of was passed around with thousands of notes as part of a transmisogynistic harassment campaign last fucking week?
youtube
how could anyone possibly have guessed it was me! it's a real mystery man it was basically witness protection. "oh but i didn't know, i didn't know she was trans", maybe he'll also say he didn't know about the harassment campaign, hey fucker, maybe apply some of the constant scrutiny you're reserving for women who are mean about farming game and apply it to yourself and consider looking into these things before baselessly making pedo accusations against someone!
this transmisogynistic crybully shit is absolutely fucking insufferable and i am absolutely sick of it and anyone who buys into it. i'm done assuming good faith or ignorance. i am not going to be a good placid little bullying target and acquiesce to this vile shit. it's truly fucking incredible that a tme guy can be found out as an actual pedophile and guys like mr. belly can immediately jump into action to use this as an opportunity to denounce a trans woman who had one interaction with him ever that consisted of five minutes spent typing an addition to a post and hitting ''reblog''. & if you don't find that sickening then straight up you are not safe for trans women to be around.
949 notes
·
View notes
Text
One Hop Ahead Of You
ARTMS' Jeon Heejin + woo!ah!'s Nana (Kwon Nayeon) x Male Reader Smut
18,039 words
Categories | bunny girls FTW, stepcest (kinda), blowjob, threesome, daddy kink, cunnilingus, angry sex, spanking, breeding
Bunny kpop idols are the best. There's Eunbi, Tsuki, then Heejin and Nana...
Thanks for commissioning me this piece; sorry for the late post! Enjoy all the synonyms I could use for "but" :D
Phone on, headphones plugged, music loud. That’s your story for road trips such as these, and you’ve zero plans about rewriting the plot.
The scenery of beautiful mountains and blooming trees can’t break your focus on your mobile device. Your parents can’t either, as hard as they try; they’ve told you once or twice during the whole trip to look up from the screen for once. No, actually, scratch that: they’ve berated you about it at least every five minutes, and you’re starting to grow sick of pretending you can’t hear them. Your nonchalant continued stares on your phone don’t exactly convince them you can’t hear a thing.
Yeah, this is what happens when you give your toddler an iPad. The boomers might be right for this one. You can’t live without staring down at a bright screen, clicking at a bright screen, watching a bright screen. Eh, well, so what? Technology is a necessity in these modern days, and it just so happens that you need this kind of distraction on the road trip. Your mother and father think otherwise, but that’s because they live like it’s still the 70s or something. You don’t know. That’s how parents are.
Mobile data serves you well anyway. Your combat skills do not. You’ve been trying to kill a character on this app for a while, and it stuns you how strong her damage is. You click the sickle attack button more times than you can count and choose a special damage in between three taps, but you still end up dead. You’re seeking vengeance because the player talked shit about you on the main chat, and it doesn’t look like you’re going to show them up. You've got two deaths to go before you're seen as a pathetic little shit who tries too hard, and five kills to cement yourself as someone who isn't.
God, you’ve been playing this game for years—how are you still not good?
“Jay,” you could hear your mother call out from the edge of your earphones. She’s driving, her ringed hands firmly on the wheel. She meets your subtle gaze through the rearview mirror. “Jay.”
Groan. That’s your job as a son: to moan, groan, and drone on about everything and anything. You’re exceptionally skilled in this profession. “What now, mom?” you ask.
She gives you a sarcastic but playful little grin. “Oh, so you can hear me.”
Alright, you’ll let her have that one. But still: “Only because you’ve been nagging me for the whole trip.”
“Now now, don’t talk to your mother like that,” your father chides. He’s a kind-looking dude; he’s got triangle-shaped glasses and stubbles of a dead beard on his chin. “It’s true, but rude. Very rude, not a good look.”
Your mother clicks her tongue. She gives your father a millisecond glare before returning to driving. “Hey.”
“Honey, you know I love you, but your mouth—”
“Leave it at that,” she warns, voice dangerously tight.
Your dad doesn’t heed her warning. “—can be a nuisance.”
“That’s it. I’m pulling over. And you’re driving.”
He raises his hands. “Okay, okay,” he says passively, “I’m sorry.”
They harrumph at each other for a while, then kiss and make up, and you laugh a little. Subtly, of course. Everyone knows that part of going through teenage years (well, you’re a little past being a teen when you’re nearly twenty years old, but your mind is still the same as when you were sixteen) is denying with all your heart that your parents make you happy. You’re just going with the flow, as usual.
It especially doesn’t help that you’re already an adult according to the Korean age system. Adulthood brings a kind of defiant independence in you, which you don’t know whether it’s a good thing or not. It has its moments, you guess.
“Oh, look at that,” says your mother, nudging your father, “Jay’s laughing!”
“I’m not!” you reply, biting your cheek so the smile doesn’t grow. Must. Not. Show. Them.
Your father peeks at you from behind the headrest and grins mischievously. “See? We still got it, don’t we?”
The car swerves, barely making you match your fist bump with him. For this, you allow a slight smile—as much as you like to hide it like a career-ruining secret, you love your parents. They’re like two peas in a pod. Your father’s a rambunctious joke-loving guy your playful mother falls in love with everyday, resulting in, well, having you.
Plus, because of that, you haven’t felt the need to regret being born or despising your parents, unlike other people your age. Their love for each other inspires you, and although every moment with them is guaranteed to have you be a third wheel again, you don’t mind. You love seeing them happy.
“Now that you’re back to earth,” your mother says, “can you please appreciate the surroundings? It’s too beautiful to go ignored.”
“That’s right. They won’t surround you when we fly back home.”
“Dad,” you groan, rolling your eyes. But doing a little observing is the least you could do. You can go AFK on this match for once. You’ve still got more mobile data to last a few days, so worrying isn't needed.
Look up. Blink once. Twice. It’s like a whole new world. Humble homes peek from between forests in the lower sides of the mountains. The sun is shining brightly, casting a yellow light on the trees that decorate the sides of the swerving roads. And the sky… has it always been that blue? The wispy clouds are just the cherry on top.
This place is so different from the urban city where your apartment resides. There’s no smoke, no cut trees, no rising buildings. It’s nature in its most pure state.
There’s no traffic either, but—
“Mom, look out!” you yell, but you’re just a little too late. Just a little, and it would count, but for this one it doesn’t.
You can’t do anything about it then. The large truck that ventures on the wrong side of the road has a mission. Whether intentional or not, it can’t turn back. It collides heavily into the windshield, and you’re wrapped in dizziness and despair as your old car launches backward, rolling in the air a few times before roughly settling on the very curved edge of the road.
Then it slides downward. You’re stuck in a spiral blurred with green and wood. What you remember is the feeling of being tortured and tossed through trees, and the truck following suit. It chases you long after its mission is complete.
Another thing you recall from the accident, as you’re lying down on the rough grass with blood on the side of your head, are two rabbits that stare curiously at you.
They seem to be sisters.
-
Voices, male and female, scruff and saccharine. They fill your ears like music but you can’t open your eyes to see to whom they belong. They speak of confusing topics and jumbled words. Can’t get a grip of their meaning. All the while your soul is yearning to rise from sleeping when it feels like you’re dying and the force inside you is struggling in defying a black fate.
Your body, however, is blank of any pain. How strange. Strange enough that it’s a strong alarm for you to finally open your eyes. They’ve been glued together for a while, so when your vision greets you, you surprise even yourself. There’s a person in a white lab coat, and a white blanket mantles you. Is this heaven? Isn’t heaven’s signature color white?
First things first: how the fuck did they let you into heaven?
“Ah, so you’re finally awake.” A man with a rounded cap smiles at you. “How’re you doing, bud?”
Blink. So… this isn’t heaven? Do they wear caps in heaven? You don’t think so. Whoever invented denim caps deserves a nice little throne next to Lucifer. “Um. Alright, I guess?”
What should you even say when you’re trying to piece together who he was? You know you’ve seen him before when you were younger, but you’re not sure exactly when. All you’re aware of is that he looks too familiar. Kind of like deja vu. The beard and wrinkly skin tell you of a tale old as time.
“Hello, I’m doctor Kim,” says the woman in the lab coat as she approaches you. She extends a hand to you and you shake it politely. “You experienced a car crash in the morning near the terraces. Luckily, a man saw the tragedy and dialed 911.”
“Tragedy?” you wonder out loud. You’re still alive, so why would it be called that?
Doctor Kim lowers her head. “Your parents died immediately from the impact of the crash, sir. I’m sorry.”
Grief comes strangely to you, even when you’ve heard the news. You’d say you’re mourning, because you are, in a way—from that moment, you miss your parents dearly and wish that time travel existed so you’d prevent the accident from happening. But you aren’t… crying. You don’t burst into tears on the spot. There’s not even wetness in your eyes to help. Moreover, you haven’t made a small prayer for easier things to happen. It’s like the stages of grief avoid you at all costs and don’t even bother to orient you about their loss.
Maybe you’re just in denial. You’ve been staring at a blank spot on the hospital wall for what seems like ages, and you’ve only been conscious for minutes. Something’s changed within.
Wonder who’d be your parent now that both of yours are gone. You’re an orphan. You don’t even know how to drive back home or go back to the convenience store where you make your money. All your belongings for the road trip that was supposed to go beautifully are gone in the accident.
Bite your lip thoughtfully. “Was it quick?” you ask quietly.
The doctor knows what you mean. Whether she’s lying or not is the question. “Yes.”
That comforts you a bit. What eats your insides from guilt, though, is that you never bothered to enjoy the road trip with them. You were always stuck to your damn phone. You didn’t talk much with them during their final moments, and it would haunt you forever. It doesn’t show on your face, though—it’s completely empty, devoid of any expression or pain.
“You really don’t recognize me, bud?” the man laughs, like he actually couldn’t believe it.
Blink. Then it hits you. “Chan hyung…?” you ask. Hope you got it right because you’re steepering on sureness now.
“Bullseye.” So you did. He sits down on the edge of the hospital bed and cups your hand. “I’m a friend of your parents. They told me to look after you in case anything happens. They really loved you, y’know? Still do.”
You look down meekly and nod. Yeah, he’s right. They did. The other part’s true, too; if they had souls and were secretly watching the whole ordeal going on, they’d still love you. That’s how unconditionally they did it.
“I’m on the emergency contacts list, FYI.” He hands you his phone. “They even had a will and all. I hate that we got to meet again like this. Could have been in better circumstances. But that’s life, you know. Plus, it was quick enough to be painless.”
Your hand, linked to the dextrose, hardens in pain as it wraps around the device, but you go on. There on the screen, see that your parents did in fact keep him on the emergency contacts. He’s telling the truth. Now you understand why he looks so familiar.
Look up from the screen, (like you should have in the car when your mother and father tried to make conversation with you.) “I—I used to play baseball with you,” you say in childlike wonder.
Chan laughs. “So I did. I’ll be happy to look after you. Probably even be your father, if you’d like.”
Your heart rises. “You’d really do that?”
“Of course! Your parents were good people, and I’d be glad to have you in my care. According to them, you’re a pretty good kid. Hope that’s true.”
“No promises.”
He laughs. He’s still got the same not-too-serious sense of humor like he did years ago. “What do you say, kid?”
He’s being a good guy, a good friend to your parents even after they passed, and you appreciate it. But being his son this quick after so much time seems like… betraying them. You know that’s not how it works, and your parents would have loved for you to gel quickly with him, but you’re just not ready. Something’s pulling you back.
What could it be?
“I…” you say, fidgeting. You don't know the right words to put it. “C-can I think about it first?”
The look on his face drops, but he smiles anyway. He must be a really good friend to be this understanding. “Of course,” he replies, retracting his hand from yours, “shouldn’t have put you on the spot. Just tell me yes or no when you’re ready. Deal?”
-
Three days is how long it takes for you to recover. To be fair, you already were—your limbs are working, and that’s enough for you. The doctors, however, insist on a lengthier stay and you kind of want to start shit in the living room and tell them how they were money-greedy exploitative little shits, but you’re not in the mood to cause a ruckus. Maybe some other time, when you eventually break all your bones and wheel out of the hospital cursing them for the bill. But yeah, some other time would work. Of course.
“I took the liberty of packing your stuff up for you,” says Chan, bringing over a luggage bag. It’s full to the edge of the zipper with clothes and other essentials.
You wonder how he went to your home and back here to the hospital this fast. “How did you—”
“I had some help,” he replies simply. You don’t question any further.
You’re in a clean pair of clothes now. You hated wearing the hospital gown. It’s like they attempted to make hospitals less sad by fashioning a bib into a larger size. There you are with your assumptions again. Maybe the stages of grief have come for you after all. Why do you feel angry all the time? This can’t be normal.
What stage would it be if you’re afraid to get into a car because of their loss? You step into it with shaky legs, looking back and forth, as if you’re scared the vehicle would lurch forward suddenly. To be fair, it is a possibility, but a rare one. Your fear, therefore, is completely irrational, yet there you are: suddenly scared of… cars?
Get in finally. The breath you let go, however, has been keen on getting out.
Chan knows well to avoid the path your parents went on when they died. He avoids it for both of your own wellbeings. They were close to him, too. He would hate to go down the road they died on. Like you, he wants to remember them fondly, not like the injured bodies that he said goodbye to at the morgue. Again, it’s for the best.
“Hey, kid,” he says. His peer at you through the rearview mirror gives you painful flashbacks. “You okay?”
He’s more attentive than he gives himself away as; he somehow notices your blank stare at the window and weak smile. He’s got you figured out, and you suppose that’s a good thing—it just shows how he could play his role as your dad pretty well if you let him. But then there’s the sense of yearning in you that’ll end up in no good. It’s yearning for your parents to come back, the yearning for them to somehow have the breath of life in their lungs again and have them rise from the morgue and walk back into your life. If they do that, you’d make an oath to be the best son.
Ah, you know that won’t happen. It’s impossible. It’s wishful thinking that won’t amount to anything.
“You could talk to me.” His eyes stare straight at the road, but he’s not really looking at anything. “I miss them, too.”
“I’m fine, hyung,” you say. You’re not, but who needs to hear that? Not the guy to whom your parents entrusted you to. You’re twenty years old—who needs to hear an overgrown child’s lamentations?
You don’t want to burden Chan at all. What you don’t know is he’s actually willing to hear all of it. You should have lamented about not knowing his openness rather than everything else. It would only lead to more sadness.
The sadness evaporates a little upon seeing his house. It’s a nice place, with two stories and a nice terrace to lounge at. Maybe, from the other side, it’s your parents’ way of still loving you: giving you a nice home and a nice (future?) dad.
They're still looking after you. Look up in the sky and smile. Chan catches it, and for a second you blush in embarrassment, but he smiles, too. "See?" is what he says, followed up with: "Everything's gonna be fine."
Trust him on that.
Open the front door and it welcomes you into his home. Its main color is pure white. You start to wonder how the white walls are unblemished even with its ruinable color. Maybe he had it cleaned up for your sake. The furniture's good, too, but all it's good for right now is to be a bed for your luggage when you start to arrange things.
"Your room's right over there," Chan says, pointing to an open door to your left. "Feel free to get some food or water. Whatever you like. You're family now." He steps closer and pats your shoulder. "Always been."
Smile appreciatively. Resist the urge to hug him and replace it with folding a few of your clothes into a pile to bring it over to your bedroom. Graphic shirts in one pile here, underwear and sleeveless shirts in the other over there. Add your headphones on top of the pile and you’re ready to start adjusting to your new room. Just one look and you could already tell it’s bigger than the one back at home. Well, former home, to be exact. You keep forgetting this is a whole new place that’s going to be where you sleep, rest, and laugh.
That voice gets your guard down, and so does the girl standing in front of you. That deep voice certainly can’t belong to the sweet-but-indifferent-faced girl leaning against your door frame. Look around for a bit to see if it’s anyone else’s, but there’s no one around. Just you and the alluring woman blocking the pathway to your new room.
She gestures to the stack of clothes in your arms with her brows. “You plan on doing anything with that or what?” she asks.
Yeah, that deep voice definitely is hers; you can hear it loud and clear. Not one syllable could belong to anyone else, no one but her. What’s her name? It’s—
“Heejin,” says Chan exasperatedly. Amusement is present in his tone too as he walks over to break it up and sling an arm around his daughter’s shoulder. “Don’t scare the new guy and let him in his room, please?”
“I’m just being curious, daddy,” Heejin explains.
Oh, so that’s her name. Heejin. Jeon Heejin. Neat. Has a nice ring to it, but it somehow spells trouble. You swear those letters can’t make up that word, but with Heejin, it sure does. Not only does her name spell it, but so do her eyes that are way too observant, tracking your every move with prolonged glances, and the tilt of her head as if she were a trained German Shepherd rather than the animal she reminds you of: a bunny.
A bunny?
Wait—
"Oh, it's you!" you say. Almost drop your clothes on the floor when you realize it. How could you not have caught on?
Heejin smiles. It brings the sense of familiarity to wash more over your mind like waves. "Thought you would never recognize me, Jay," she says. "Hi there."
Try not to gawk with all your might, but you do anyway. Just hope it isn't obvious because see here, the Jeon Heejin you know used to be a shy little thing, never wanting to come out and play with you when you were younger out of embarrassment. Now, she writes confidence into each and every one of her moves, with a dazzling little smile to go along with it. How did she manage the transformation? You need the tips ASAP.
"Oh, right." Chan slaps a hand to his face and shakes his head. "You two've met before, right?"
She's a little sleazy when she rests her back on the frame again and nods, eyes never leaving your body. If anything, she's the one who's gawking and even if, for argument's sake, you are, it's just an eye for an eye. The two of you are just amazed at how much the other has grown up. Nothing more.
(Or… ?)
"So it seems," she says bluntly.
"Ah, should have known. But it was a long time ago, wasn't it?"
"Mhm." Heejin looks you up and down and smiles. "You've grown up."
"So have you," you reply, because she has. Toned muscle clings to her arms and she’s let go of the rectangle-shaped glasses. Now, circular Harry Potter spectacles sit on the bridge of her pointy nose. She stares at you through them for a while. She's a CCTV; she's monitoring your moves in HD and watching you put your clothes in neat piles in the cabinet drawers. Heejin gives you a stare that lingers long after you're done folding them. She's thinking of something, and you're not sure if you want to know.
"Daddy," she calls out.
You don't know what you're doing when you turn your head in her direction. Much less when she winks at you. Blush furiously and hide your face behind spread shirts.
Chan peeks from the living room. "Yeah, hon?"
"I think Nana's waiting for you to pick her up? It's 3 p.m.."
"Ah, right. Can’t forget about that little rascal.” He wipes his mouth and gets up. “Help Jay with his stuff, please, Heekki?"
It only takes seconds for Chan to find his keys, but for you it takes hours. Your heart beats loudly at the thought of being alone with Heejin, and you can’t differentiate its drumming with being nervous or excited. When he finally gets out and you hear the car pull out of the way, you’re stuck. Heejin’s somewhere near the corner of your room but it doesn’t look like she’s the one who has nowhere to go.
She’s stunning with all those locks of shiny dark hair curtaining her shoulders and fit body. Her legs do more than peeking out from her low-cut shorts as she navigates your new room. The round glasses that sit on her nose just pull her whole, gorgeous look together. You can’t believe how beautiful she’s become. She was always a pretty girl, but the maturity and growth that coursed through her early years of adulthood made her glow. It’s like you’re looking at a new, refined version of her.
“I’m sorry about your parents,” says Heejin. She picks away at a poster of a famous basketball player, name redacted. “They were good people.”
“Trust me,” you sigh, “I know.”
God knows you didn’t appreciate your parents much. It’s a pet peeve of yours to be reminded to be grateful in grave situations, but your mother and father were different from other pairs of parents. Others were abusive, neglectful, cruel. Yours knew how to take care of you while letting you dip your toes into the pool of freedom at the same time. Your parents loved you. Not a lot of people could say that.
“And they told my dad to take you in, huh?”
“Does that bother you?” you say, with an unintentional bladed edge to your voice. Realize how you said it and immediately shut your mouth.
Heejin blinks, disarmed for a while, then recovers quickly with a smile that’s just as dazzling as her. “For what it’s worth,” she says, taking the chance to place herself beside you a little too close for anything that isn’t lustful intent, “I’d love to have you over here as long as you like.”
You don’t know what to say. Her being this close with you is setting off fireworks inside of you. Put a pillow snug in your lap just to be sure and nod. “Thanks, Heejin.”
“Of course.” Heejin rests her chin on your shoulder and whispers so softly that it could’ve been your imagination deluding you again: “I’ll make your time here worthwhile.”
Jerk your head, but she’s already scampering to the door and exiting your room. She doesn’t even look back.
“Hey,” you say, trying to break the ice that only freezes you, “Chan hyung said you would help me with my stuff!”
No response.
So you were right to think that she’s trouble. But god, would you love to be wound up in her.
-
You’ve stared at the ceiling for too long, but now, it’s not out of grief. It’s out of fear. Are you doing the right thing by wanting to fuck your sister? Well, she’s not exactly your sister yet, but she’s somehow related to you now considering her father treats you as a son, too. A stepsister, maybe? There’s no other fitting term than that.
What should you do? Is gawking at her and her desirable body going to make your parents in the afterlife proud? You’re sure they’d be disappointed. But is it your fault that Heejin’s grown into this naturally flirtatious woman? Not at all. Is it your fault that she’s so damn attractive? The answer is no, too.
It could be a yes though, because it isn’t Heejin to blame that her new brother wants to have sex with her. You’re both in the wrong, and two of those don’t exactly make a right.
Look around your room, then at the door where she leaned on as she successfully intimidated you. Is it locked? Fuck it, you don’t know, and you probably don’t even care. What you do know is that you’re too turned on by the thought of your new sister Jeon Heejin, and you need to do something about it.
(To the cracked hole in the fourth wall, you say, What? I have needs, too, you know. And you do, too—why do you think you’re reading this now?)
Lift your comforter just a little and slide your hand south. Cup your bulge, caress it, then spring it out. It’s already solid, and it doesn’t need too many strokes to have the blood rushing there completely. Your stiff rod aches for a touch, aches for Heejin, and stimulates itself to the thought of her as you start to jerk off.
You think of how she could swing those full thighs over each side of your face, and though her form would burden your chin, you’d happily eat of her. Bet that her pussy’d taste just as good as her lips. You’d lick and suck her clit while she moans and writhes until the two of you couldn’t take it anymore; her core would feel numb after the pleasure and your jaw would ache for days.
You recall how her lips were just inches away from you earlier, only barely touching the curve of your ear. Think of how those lips would feel much better if they were on yours. Yearn for your mouths to meet to the point that you’re moaning in each other, taking in the natural scent of skin and sex.
Finally, you think of the changes you’ve seen in her. Where was the shy, antisocial Heejin of yesterday? Now she’s grown, just like you, and looks far better than you’d imagine. She’s turned into this will’o the wisp goddess.
“Heejin,” you say, as quietly as you could, “Heejin, Heejin, Heejin—”
“God, I really turned you on that much, huh?”
Your pumps stop, and your sight catches onto the said woman you’ve been jerking off to. She’s in the same place as she was earlier, at her opening scene at the door frame. You’re more than happy to see the pretty Heejin, but she can’t show up now. Not when you’re jerking off. She can’t just appear in the corner like she teleported for the pure purpose to catch you in the act.
“Heejin!” you yell, pulling the covers onto yourself. “G-get out of my room!”
She’s wearing her sleep clothes now, but she still looks like she dressed to impress. Her body pulls together the skimpy shorts and loose shirt she sleeps in into something that could have been worn on a haute couture catwalk. Her raised brows, haughty eyes, and quirked mouth all show how she’s smugger than the word itself.
“Aww,” Heejin says, walking over to sit on your bed, “what should we do to you now, oppa?”
You’re horrified, to say the least. It’s your first day at a new house and you’re already doing something wrong. The bare minimum you should do in this situation is to tell the girl to fuck off. Tell her to go far away and flee to anywhere but your room. You can’t just stare at her like she’s a dream come true, even if she is.
Let’s see: you have your new sister on your bed who caught you jerking off. There has to be some other way this would end, but the two of you know where this leads. The question that remains is if you’d be able to hold back.
You make the first step to resisting the inevitable outcome. “Heejin,” you say, breaths shredded into panicked little gasps, “I’ll only say it again and no more. Get out of my room.”
She smiles sweetly and shakes her head. “Can’t make me. I want to know what you were doing, Jay.”
“No!” You won’t be saying it, you won’t dream of saying it, you’d rather die than to be caught saying it. It’s already bad enough when it goes unspoken. What more if you pronounce what you were doing with each syllable more embarrassing than the other?
“Then I guess I should just”—she tugs the covers off—”oh my, Jay oppa. You were touching yourself to me. And I thought I was just being narcissistic.”
Your cock leaks in the cold air. Heejin laughs tauntingly. It sounds so much more attractive than it should, especially when her voice is deep and rich. It sounds… sexy?
Oh, what are you doing? You should feel embarrassed, maybe even petrified at the mere thought of your childhood acquaintance slash new sister slash new crush seeing your dick. But your mind doesn’t brew with insecurities upon seeing her eyes glimmer with eagerness.
She can’t do this. No, no, no, you can’t do this either. Let fucking her remain a fantasy pirouetting in your head, not one that comes true. It’s so much more awkward when it translates into real life where you somehow think it into existence.
Awkwardness isn’t in Heejin’s dictionary, though. She looks far from uneasy or disgusted. In fact, you swear there’s a small grin dimpling her cheeks. It’s like she’s actually flattered that you’re jerking off to her.
“If I knew you had such a big cock, Jay oppa…” she says, placing a hand on your hip to prop herself on it. You jerk involuntarily, which happens at the worst time; your cock almost brushes her cheek. “I would have let you fuck me in front of daddy. Or would you rather I call you daddy?”
“Why are you here, for god’s sake?” you say. You’re biting your lip to suppress your humiliated screams.
“Well,” she taps her chin, a feat that would be adorable if you’d just cast the situation aside, “I thought I heard something, and it was just as I suspected.”
“Fine, I’ll say it for the third time: Jeon Heejin, get the fuck out of my room.”
“Oh, that’s right. Say my name, oppa. Daddy.” She winks. “Say it and I might just put my lips on this big fat cock.”
“No, you won’t.”
It sounds more challenging instead of intimidating, and it’s clear that Jeejin doesn’t cower away from dares anymore. “Watch me.”
She lowers herself onto your lower body and admires your length with bright bunny eyes. “I’d let you blow in my mouth as much as you like. I’d fuck my throat on it and give it a nice good kiss. Oh, right, you wanna know how? Like this.”
She engages with your dick into an open-mouthed osculation, swallowing the tip and suckling it, too. Groan, but when you pull your hand out to do the opposite to her head, she’s already sitting back up. You really can’t have your way here, not when your new sister knows of her danger and puts it to good use. She’s resourceful like that, and it both impresses and scares you.
Heejin wags her finger in your face as if she were scolding a trouble child. “No, no, Jay oppa,” she reprimands you. “That was just a teaser. If you really want me, jerk off to me. Say my name.”
You can’t say no to her. Well, actually, you can—you just refuse to. You’re fifty-percent scared of the outcome of making this deal with Heejin and fifty-percent excited. There’s an Alice-like curiosity in you that yearns to see what might happen. Would she really keep her end of the deal and suck you off? Or leave you with blue balls like she did earlier?
Wrap your hand unsurely around your penis again. She nods encouragingly.
Do your usual routine: up and down. Murmur her name over and over, your gaze connected with hers. Her smile grows bigger as your pumps become less measured. You start to spiral out of control. How can you not when she’s just too fucking hot? Her succubus stare, thighs that look fuller as they rest on your mattress, her intent that grows more clear as she rubs your thigh. You’re trapped in lust, and you know you have to settle down a little before you completely lose track of all senses, but you can’t stop. How could anyone when there’s Jeon Heejin as she lives and breathes in front of you?
Say her name, say her name.
Say it like a poem, say it like it’s one of fame.
Say it like you’re about to cum, which you are, and your climax isn’t one that’s too far—
“That’s it, Jay,” says Heejin in a tone that’s almost loving. As your cum shoots an obscene, one-direction spurt, she replaces your hand with hers. “Cum for me. You want to fuck me so bad it’s pathetic.”
Her touch is as rough as it is soft. You say it’s too much in between thin whimpers of pleasure, but her flexed hand is determined to keep pumping. Her fist tightens and her jerks grow stronger.
“Naughty, naughty oppa. Look at this thick hot cum. Is it all for me?”
You’re spraying all over her and her meaty thighs. Her shorts get stained and you try with all your might to contain the bursts of white, but you end up on the edge again. You end up releasing more. Your thoughts run in circles and bump into each other—they’re scolding you, hurting you, asking you why the fuck are you cumming from your new sister’s handjob. You’d answer them by saying you don’t know, but you know the reason probably more than you know yourself:
Heejin is unbearably alluring, and her giving you a handjob is unbearably wrong. Strangely, both of these facts get you going. The mere truth that she shouldn’t be doing this with you makes you want more of it. Has grief taken a more different route in traumatizing you? Oh god, what would your parents think?
What would Chan think? He trusts you enough to be a good big brother to Heejin. Would you really throw his trust in you away, all for his irritatingly hot oldest daughter?
If you’d take a look at the situation—you having just ejaculated on her—it seems like it.
“No,” you say. It’s a crack in your integrity knowing that you could stress her name in any way or form, and she’d still be hot as fuck. It wouldn’t undo what she did to you and what you let her do. “P-please. We shouldn’t be doing this.”
“That’s what makes it fun, right?” She wipes your cum from her thighs with her shirt. “Besides, I did say I’ll make your time worthwhile.”
How does that work? A brother and sister, whether related by blood or not, should bond by having sincere talks and treating each other, not by having sex.
(But she’s right about the fun part. Looks like Heejin is just as fucked in the head as you are.)
“I want to have some fun, Jay oppa,” she explains. She places her palms on her thighs caked with cum, and pouts. From that, you know you can’t resist. You wouldn’t dare. “Won’t you let me, pretty please?”
She’s both hot and adorable. Hot enough to drive you crazy and adorable enough to convince you to do any of the most mundane things out there. You don’t know how to do this with her. It seems like no matter how cute or sleazy she poses herself as, she’ll always get what she wants somehow.
It’s dumb of you to even try, but you do: “Okay, what fun do you want to have?” Say this while collecting tissues from the little box at your bedside table to wipe down her thighs. You expected to use the tissues for self-love sessions and nights when the tears couldn’t stop. You never thought that you’d have to use them to clean your cum from your new sibling’s legs.
“You know exactly what I want: I want this”—she points at your cock—”in here”—then at the center of her shorts.
Immediately your already gray morals come out to play. “I can’t do that.”
“Why not?”
“Heejin,” you say, biting your lip to stay quiet. It’s not intentionally hot or whatsoever, but Heejin’s mind particularly hangs onto that for a while. “We’re brother and sister now. We can’t do this. What if your dad finds out?”
“Aww, I get it. I do, really. But you’re so going to hit my guts if you fuck me right now.” She throws off her shorts, leaving her in nothing but a set of cute pink panties. Then, she scoots herself over so that your cock rests upon her small belly, right in front of her core. “See? You can spread me that well, and I won’t mind at all. I promise.”
Look at your cock and how far it can reach inside her, how it can push her walls apart. Oh god, it’s tempting. Everything about her, from her perfect face to her spread thighs, calls for you to forgo propriety and just fuck her.
“This bunny’s waiting for you, oppa.” Heejin does more than wait and pulls down your boxers. Pulls down her panties. Pulls down your ethics and morality and principles and everything you used to go by; down they go into the river of fire. “This bunny girl’s gonna fuck herself on this cock. You want that, don’t you, daddy? You want me to ride you and call you daddy. Make me call myself your little bunny. Yeah, I’ve got you all figured out.”
What she’s doing may be wrong, but what she’s saying is right. You, in all unfiltered honesty, want to see Heejin bounce on you and ride you endlessly. Her toned thighs and calves are made for it. She deserves getting what she wants after jerking you off.
But does Chan deserve this: have his new son and his daughter betray his trust? Turn the family upside down all because of lust?
Oh, who cares what he thinks? When Heejin slides her pussy down your cock in one try despite her refusing tightness, you lose your thoughts. The will to take her roughly, just like she deserves, takes its place. It rules your head with an iron fist, just like how you rule Heejin’s impossibly tight pussy with iron-clad thrusts.
“Oh, oh, oh fuck,” she gasps. She squeezes her eyes shut and grabs onto your shoulders. Her hold is tight. That’s one thing it has in common with her cunt. “Daddy, you’re so big. I can’t, p-properly ride it, you’re too big.”
Your cock is held hostage by Heejin’s stubborn cunt. She wants it to stuff her fully, but never could let it inside her. She’s too tight. Your hands on her waist, you push her down as gently as you could. She lets out deep groans and sighs.
“That feels so good, daddy,” she tells you. After that, you achieve a dream you never thought would come true, as light as it is compared to fucking her: a kiss. It’s not as passionate as her bouncing on your crotch, but it’s good enough to have you blushing. “Yes, you like it when your little bunny girl kisses you? You like how tight she is?”
You nod. That’s all you can do when you’re speechless. What else can you say to her? You can’t tell her that it isn’t true when every iota of her words are true.
“You can do better than that, daddy,” Heejin gasps, head tossed back. A storm of black hair hangs over your bed clothes. “I know you can. Yes, just like that. Do it. Fffuck me harder, I want it, fuck—”
Clearly, slow, precious pumps into her tiny hole aren’t going to work. So it isn’t exactly all your doing when you lift Heejin and suddenly have her pinned to the bed. The balance of power is reversed—you’re now pounding her to your mattress, spreading her legs and propelling your thrusts into the perfect target: her small, damp hole. You take advantage of how wet she is by thrusting bluntly and exclude the rest of your length for a chance to breathe. With Heejin, though, there’s no such thing as breathing. She’s left you gasping for air since your reunion.
“Hnnn, lookie here, daddy.” She lifts her shirt, revealing a surprising set of subtle yet hard abs, where your bulge appears and disappears. “You’re so big that you’re, fu— fucking reaching my tummy. That’s why you have to go deeper. Can’t waste such a big cock, right?”
She grabs your waist to aid your pumps. She must have done some serious lifting in the gym; those harsh tugs and pulls have got to be from somewhere. You’re thrown into a looped route of jamming your tip against her G-spot and cervix hard. Heejin’s grippy pussy refuses to let you go through the night without going down on her. Not that you’d have it any other way. Silly how just moments ago you were telling her not to continue her advances, yet now you’ve advanced past flirty banter with her.
Make it a point, no, a goal to thrust upward rather than only forward. She spreads her legs more, and you reach under her loose shirt to squeeze her breasts. Her nipples are perky and deserve each of your tweaks. Heejin whimpers, as if she were an actual bunny caught into a trap. What a terrible hunter you are, but it’s simply revenge. The disguised predator, Heejin, was actually prey—she’s caught into the ropes she went to with confident hops.
The hunter becomes the hunted.
“Fuck, you’re going to put a baby in me,” whines Heejin. “C-can’t do that, just—no, just cum on my stomach, please. My mouth, my legs, anywhere.”
When she puts it that way, it makes you spite the fact that it’s forbidden. You want to release in Heejin and make her feel your warm cum. Let it infiltrate her womb and give her a baby. You can’t have that happen, yet you want it to happen. It shouldn’t be like this.
“Please,” you say. You’re getting incredibly close that it rides on your tongue like the aftertaste of a dessertful. You can’t believe you’re actually begging to cum inside her, but any man would if put in your place. Anyone who thinks it’s pathetic clearly hasn’t met Heejin face to face.
“Daddy,” she says, “you can’t…”
Saddening news, and she isn’t too happy about it either. The tremble of her lower lip is one you capture with a firm kiss. Your breaths get caught in her mouth as you near climax. And the orgasmic Heejin’s wrapping her legs around you tight, as if daring you to breed her even if she’s clearly told you not to. It’s like her legs, sealed around your hips, bear the weight of the advantages and disadvantages and spread them out for you, yet the thing in between them makes you forget all about the cons.
It’s scary how you almost give in.
Just in time, however, you pull away and bust a load on her tummy. It’s the product of all the jabs your rod did at it. It’s only fair it gets to show the plentiful result laid all over the muscled skin.
Heejin looks down at the pool of cum while gasping for air. She swallows, then smiles. “Not bad for a guy who’s gonna be my big brother.”
-
You can already tell having sex with her is going to become a usual affair. The look she flashed you before leaving for school is telling enough. When she woke you up with a sloppy blowjob, saying in between soft suckles that “I have at least one hole you could fill,” you went insane. You’ve made your bed. Now you have to lie in it.
To be fair, you’d lie in Heejin forever if you could. But as a son, you have duties to fulfill. Although Chan told you that you’re free to do whatever you wish, you still have the sense to help around the house. You don’t want to be seen as a burden. You’d want to be anything but the new son who doesn’t know how to do things, especially for your new sisters.
Your new relationship with Heejin, though, exceeds familial bond. Will you hide it from Chan or put a stop to what she’s doing before it transforms completely? Down the road feelings from both ends might get involved and increase the overall taboo of the situation. Chan would probably get suspicious.
You don’t know what to do.
Take your mind off things. Make an extravagant meal, or at least a style-over-substance one. Follow the instructions of a recipe for mashed potatoes at the back of the gravy powder packet. Hell, you could do this: set cut and peeled potatoes in a pot of briskly boiling water, mash them after smearing them with butter, shake pepper onto those motherfuckers… done!
Put your masterpiece into a bowl and set it on the table. It actually looks pretty good. Maybe being a chef is your calling. You can already imagine the scenarios you’d go through as one. Chef Jay doesn’t sound too bad, right?
Chan is at work while Heejin’s at college. You’re glad you won’t be seeing Heejin for the remainder of the day; as much as you’d hate to see her go, meeting her would make you feral. She left a to-do list on a post-it sticky note on the fridge door, which looks like it’s been there for a while if you take into consideration the boxes all being checked.
A more recent one, however, is Chan’s own reminders written on a piece of ruled college notebook paper, apparently addressed to you and Nana:
Good morning! Have an awesome day ;)
Please treat yourself to the Mcdonalds in the fridge, just reheat it pls
Take care of yourselves, love you!
Ah, you wouldn’t have made mashed potatoes if you knew Chan had left some McDonald’s. You hope that he still remembers your favorite from years ago: a classic Big Mac with medium fries to go.
Open the fridge eagerly and—
There’s nothing?
You know who it is. That voice is decidedly more youthful than Heejin’s, but not anymore that high. It’s Nayeon. Nana, to be exact. Everyone you know calls her Nana in order to avoid confusing her with Im Nayeon who’s somewhere in the line of the kids of your parents’ friends.
Nana’s younger by only a year, hence being the perfect playmate for you back then. The two of you would run around and yell at each other gleefully, basking in the joys of childhood you didn’t know would last that short.
So, when you step closer to her, you don’t really believe it’s her. If there’s anything in common between the bright Nana and the laid-back Heejin, it’s that they’ve both grown up beautifully.
“Nana?” you ask.
Her hair was a silky black then, often wrangled in between with sand and dirt, but now, it’s a mass of coffee brown. It looks like she’s gotten glasses, too, aside from a light fringe that settles prettily on her forehead.
But then there’s Nana’s body, which you used to pick up as a child to mimic flying heroes with, which has grown… voluptuous. In the volleyball shorts and casual statement tee, it flatters her medium-sized bust and meaty thighs just right.
(It probably even coaxes you into thinking she’s the perfect… girlfriend?)
Her face still is adorable as ever. If someone were to put the cutest face in the world with the perfect body, the outcome would be Nana. She’s more than that, actually; she just so happens to be exactly your type.
Oh no, here you go again. Your feelings for her from your youthful days resurge, and you realize you’ll probably add another fuck-up to the list before this day ends. Meeting Heejin was one thing, but Nana, your first grade playmate slash friend slash childhood crush? Slash new sister? You’re as good as dead to Chan if he finds out what you want to do to her.
“Jay oppa!” says Nana. Her smile has grown more beautiful, just like the rest of her. It’s still cheeky, but wider. “You remember me, right?”
How could you not? “Y-yeah.”
“Aww, sweet!” Nana pokes you on the shoulder. “Anyway, I ate your Big Mac, sorry. I got hungry.”
Oh, so Chan did remember your favorites.
“One meal wasn’t enough for you?” ask her, grinning. You still got that playfulness in you with her. Hopefully she reciprocates.
She gives you the finger.
Scoff and turn away with raised hands. “If it makes you feel better, I made potatoes for you,” you announce, “but I guess I’ll have them since you ate my Big Mac.”
“Meanie.”
“Overgrown baby.”
“Jaybird.”
It’s just like the old times, except for today, nobody gets hurt. The two of you know the truth: you’ve missed each other so much. Not a day goes by when you don’t think of each other. You’re embedded into the depths of everyday thoughts, the times when she’d say oh no, I wasn’t thinking of you but only because she doesn’t realize it because you’re layers upon layers upon layers of idle thought.
It would take an expeditioner to navigate through the history you and Nana have.
You’re childish. What makes up for it is what you say next, because it’s kind of true and isn’t merely something to say just for the hell of it, as you step forward and lower your gaze to her with a sobering glare: “Brat.”
Nana approaches you with her hands folded behind her back. She tilts with each step, as if contemplating on whether she is one or not. “Am I?”
She’s so much smaller than you, yet your hands fill up when you place them on her hips. Her waist is tiny compared to the slopes of her hips and thighs. Her cheeks (on both parts, to be clear, because you know what you’re thinking) are sizable, too, and you can’t choose between the two pairs on which to squeeze.
“Yeah.”
“Can you handle it?”
You see where this is going. You’re still a mirror of each other, and the glass still reflects lust. “Nana.”
“Fine,” she says indifferently. She hops on the kitchen island and crosses her arms. That should be a sign that she’s going to be anything but. “Be like that. Pretend you don’t know what I wanna do. Even better, pretend you don’t like me.”
She’s got it all wrong. Draw in some air and let it out immediately. “I do like you, Nana,” you clarify. “But—”
“But?”
How do you tell her what the matter is without revealing that you just had sex with Heejin the night before? You’ve no idea how to go through this. Your feelings for her collide with your attraction to her sister, as well as what you did with her.
No outcome of this is morally right, but who cares for morality? You do, although you’re the last person who should be talking about that. You’re trying to salvage what’s left of your ethics and piece it together to make yourself believe that you’re a good person. Newsflash: you’re not. No good person would fuck his new sister and want to fuck the other, too.
Whir the script you used for Heejin for her younger sister. “We’re family now,” you say weakly.
Nana rolls her eyes. “Get off your high horse.”
“It’s not a high horse. It’s… it’s decency.”
“Hm. Okay.”
It’s surprising how quick Nana concedes. Her simple answer should have led to a simple result: the two of you never talking about this again and respecting the boundaries of the other. But no, she’s walking towards you, setting her hands on your shoulders. Her mouth is nearing yours, somewhere you’ve dreamed of it residing despite it being so wrong.
“Then stop me,” she dares you. It’s a tougher dare than the ones she made you do on the playground. “If you’re so righteous and don’t want to kiss me, stop me.”
You shouldn’t kiss her. You want to, but it’s something that should never happen. Your feelings for her since your childhood days can’t come out to play when she’s your new sister. No unspoken law of morality says that it’s fine for you to sweep her up in your arms, kiss her, and take her to bed. If you do, you’re committing multiple crimes.
Nana is the braver felon. She presses her lips on your mouth, and you have to admit, in spite of the wrongness, that it’s everything you’ve dreamed of. Her chapsticked mouth is soft and sweet. You really should have held back. Nevertheless, her tongue is in your mouth, and soon you’re holding her head in your hands so you could kiss her properly.
She’s turned you into a felon, too. So rob her of her breath. Hold her body hostage on the island. Kill your hesitation. You’re one of the same, yet only one of you has shown any hesitation in doing this. In fairness, there’s still a voice in the back of your head that commands you to stop.
You don’t listen to it.
“Did your dad put any CCTVs in the house?” you ask breathily. If you’re going to do something wrong, you should at least try to hide it.
“He’s old as shit. Of course he didn’t,” says Nana, giggling. “If you eat my pussy right now he won’t know. Unless, of course, you want to get caught.”
“So you’re scared of climbing trees but not getting caught having sex?”
“Hey, I’m not scared of climbing trees anymore! Now shut up and eat me. Consider this… your lunch, since I had your McDonald’s.”
“By all means, Nayeon,” you say, pulling down the shorts that live up to their name and the flimsy set of pink panties.
“It’s Nana—ohhhh…”
Her correction gets lost and translated into moans. You’re sending quick, dainty licks on her clit. Enjoy the shivers Nana does. You know well to prey on that area after that, besides your experience with an old high school fling and sex ed. You also know to caress her thighs to send chills up her body, somehow even bringing heat to her core.
She’s too light to cause injury, but she almost, almost does when she squirms her hips harshly into your face. “Oppa!” she squeals. Her fingers are wrapped at the edge of the island as she lifts her lower body up for you to devour. “Th-that feels so good—fuck—”
“Thought you didn’t like to curse,” you say. Break the contact with her clit and let your finger take its place.
“And I thought you were a virgin.”
You don’t realize that your finger rubbing on her sensitive little nub takes the offense out on it. “The fuck?”
“Y-yeah, I know.” Nana hisses. She rolls her hips up and down. “I thought you’d be too scared to have sex with me. You know, besides the obvious reasons.”
“So you’re saying I should be the guy you thought I would be? And stop?”
“Don’t you fucking dare—”
Laugh. “Relax,” you tell her. “I’m not going anywhere. I’ll eat this delicious pussy of yours till you’re screaming, I promise.”
Nana laughs as well. She rests her calves on both of your shoulders and smiles. “Spoken like a true non-virgin.”
It helps that she’s so fucking delicious. You’d start having her as a rewarding meal after tough days rather than McDonald’s. She’s the perfect balance of sweetness and tanginess, filling your mouth like a rain of sugar. Wrapping your lips around her nub just brings out more wetness and moans that are just as sweet. Her sounds of pleasure are exactly what you’ve fantasized about them being: soft yet high, clinging to pitched tones and increasing in volume when you slurp on her nub.
Her sounds are so much different from her sister’s. Heejin’s moans are deep and unearth even deeper feelings of lust for her. Nana’s drive you crazy in a different way. They urge you to keep eating her, to keep suckling harshly on her little clitoris so you’d have her stiff nipples poke the front of the cloth of her shirt, to keep doing away with her tiny hole so that she’s begging in that cute little voice of hers.
She’s more passive than Heejin, too. It took rough patches for you to finally be able to fuck her sister into temporary submission. For Nana, it only takes a few licks here and there, and she’s already shaking. Still, you can’t choose between them.
Why choose anyway when you can have them both?
Nana, of course, is good enough for now. Though she’s got you in a padlock between her thighs and forcing you to keep eating her, you give in happily. Your hands are curled around her thick soft thighs to maintain her sprawled position on the island. And dear god, are you taking advantage of it. The suction of your lips is almost cruel, and the poor girl has to alternate between loving it and being overwhelmed.
Run your hands along her delicious backside then squeeze the two round globes. She moans appreciatively, and she’s faced with another two decisions to choose from: to reverse herself into your hands so you could play with her ass more or to go forward to have your mouth absolutely devouring her. Both options are sure to provide her pleasure, but she can’t choose just one. So she moves her hips forward and backward, grinding on the tip of your tongue and your rough palms. It feels so much better this way for her. She’s finally found a good routine.
“Oppa, oppa, Jay oppa,” groans Nana. “Please, p-please.”
She doesn’t specify what she’s begging for. She doesn’t need to anyway when you know the answer. That’s why you run your tongue along her soaked labia, then let it peek into the hole they welcome you in. Delve your tongue inside her deeply. Her ass lifts off the surface and you have to pull her down to earth though she’s close to meeting heaven because of you. No, she’s staying here, under your control and touch. She isn’t going anywhere.
Not that Nana would rather be anywhere else. She’s content with having you orally please her. She likes the feeling of being sprawled out before and under you and letting you have your way with her. She was wrong to think you were a virgin; the wildest laps of an inexperienced mouth definitely won’t feel this good.
She should eat your lunch more times if this is how it would end.
“Your tongue, fuck,” she says, voice shattered, “ it feels so good—don’t stop, please, I can’t—”
You don’t plan on it. Nana’s too delicious, too sweet to stop eating of. She’s definitely miles better than what you were supposed to have for lunch. Although your head still swirls at the idea that you’re actually having sex with your crush, hesitation is a faint dream. Her moans, sweet and whiny, prod you on and tell you a story of a climax approaching.
Draw out the plotline by tracing a line from her slit to her pearl, repeat then, shove a plot twist in there by suddenly curling your tongue inside her. She provides the dialogue and ending line:
“Jay oppa, I’m cumming!”
Nana’s screams switch to squeals when you spank her bubble butt while continuing to eat her out. She reaches for your head and pulls it deeper between her thighs, while her other hand rests on her left nipple. The combined pleasure unexpectedly makes her leak of squirted girl cum. Of course, you waste no time in licking that up.
“T-too much, fuck, oh yes,” she gasps. Her breaths are burdened with each word. “Spank me, oppa, just like that!”
Everything you do drives her crazy. From your spanking and sucking, her hips never fail to lose control. They knock, sway, and dance while her pussy drips with more accumulated wetness and cum. Despite her satisfaction, it’s clear that you won’t be able to drink all of her juices when the mere act of doing it forms more.
“Oppa, oppa, stop.”
Pause and look up at her with a mouth smeared with juices. “What’s the problem?” you ask. You’d hate to have done something wrong to her.
“I think daddy and Heejin unnie are at the driveway.”
Shit. You immediately pull away from Nana’s cunt. She barely gets her shorts on right when Chan and Heejin come in. Pray that the kitchen smells of what it’s supposed to instead of sex. You can still catch the slight scent of gratification in the air.
“We’re home!” says Chan. He comes bearing gifts: supermall department store paper bags strung in a single wrist. You’re strangely more drawn to Heejin rather than the clothes that might be brought home; she counts as a gift, right?
She’s barely wrapped, though. A tube top designed as a blue handkerchief dangles around her bust. The shawl doesn’t exactly play the probable role of a ribbon when it’s thinner than one.
Oh well, easier to unwrap and break into pieces.
“Hi, Jay oppa,” says Heejin. Her smile is wide; she knows you’re flustered by her choice of fashion today. She looks at Nana with a comparably colder gaze. “Nana.”
Sibling rivalry, you assume? The tension is incapable of going unnoticed. You wonder what it’s for. There must have been history between them. You wouldn’t know, however; you’re an only child. Were.
“How was the…” you say, trying to break the thickness in the air but find that you don’t have the words to do it. Why do you even bother? Oh, right, they’re your sisters now—as a big brother, you have to try and help them make ends meet.
“Oh, the mall?” Chan says. He’s unknowingly rescued you from awkwardness. He throws you the bag. “Pretty good! I got you a shirt. Heekki bought some stuff, too.”
“You didn’t get me anything, daddy?” asks Nana disappointedly. The redness in her face is lucky to be passed off as the heat’s doing.
“Maybe if you didn’t spill that water on the floor I’d give you your present early.”
The youngest sister tilts her head, but when she turns around, she realizes what her father means. Just when you thought you’d left the coast clear, there’s one piece of evidence you failed to hide: Nana’s slick and cum. It drools from the edge of the island and on the ground. Even worse, your shirt is stained, too.
“I—uh, daddy—”
“What? Gonna cry, Nayeon?” Heejin asks. She flashes her sister a taunting grin.
What is going on between these two? Why is Heejin bullying her? Why is Nana looking angrier than she’s ever looked in her life? You truly don’t understand.
“It’s Nana,” the younger girl replies. Her shoulders are visibly tense.
Chan gives them a stern look. You know what that means: cut it out, or I’ll make you. You’ve learned to translate those looks from parents of unruly children at public places. “Girls,” he pacifies them. “Don’t want to start a fight in front of your new brother, do you?”
“She started it!” Nana says protestingly.
“And I’ll end it. Cut it out and clean your mess up.”
Heejin smiles sweetly yet artificially as her sister obeys what she’s told to do. Then, she drags you to the bedroom out of sight.
Cut to black.
-
“You’re a bad person, Jay oppa.”
Those are the first words Heejin told you after she pulled you into her room. Her kisses aren’t as passionate anymore when they’re more angry than lustful. Her lips mash on your neck, mouth, and chest, all while she unbuttons your shirt with quickness you’ve never seen in her.
Your shirt’s torn off you before it could even live on to be a hand-me-down. An angry Heejin, you find out, can do things like that. She isn’t all seductive and sweet when she’s furious. And right now, she’s burning on every end with wrath.
“I think that’s why you agreed to have sex with me,” she says. Pulls off your bottoms so she can sit her bottom on you. “Because you wanted some kind of fucked up stress relief. And then you see me, and you go ‘hey, I could fuck this girl and since she’s such a slut she wouldn’t mind.’ That’s what you thought, right? That I’m just another dumb slut bunny?”
None of that crossed in your mind. All you knew when you were reunited with Heejin was that you were very attracted to her. “Heejin, it isn’t like that. And you’re not a slut.”
“For you,” Heejin throws her shawl to the corner of the room, “I am.”
She said it, not you. Still won’t agree to it. But when Heejin’s riding you at this pace that you can’t keep up with, you might change your mind.
Her thighs ripple photogenically when they slap onto yours. Your face can’t say the same. From the moment the door was closed, she pounced on you. She takes the role of a hunter again. She has her hand on your chest and her ass perched on your crotch. It all starts and ends there.
“Oh, and you looove lording it over me, huh?” she asks. She’s yelling at you, angry at you about something you don’t even know yet, which is supposed to make you feel scared. You should be cowering and promise yourself to never ever underestimate her again. Instead, you feel…
Aroused?
Your cock is hard enough to push past her slick walls and bask in their embrace. You hear your own breaths partner up with Heejin’s.
“You know I like you and your dick so much,” she continues. Her bounces are strong. Days and nights spent at the gym keep her stamina strong. Is she a singer, too? Her voice hasn’t cracked once. Or maybe she’s just that angry. “That’s why you like making me jealous. You know I can’t control myself around you.”
“Heejin, it’s n-not like that.” Surprised that you manage to get those words out of your mouth. All that’s coming from it are moans.
“So what is it?”
“Wait, is this about Nana?”
She growls. Her pace quickens, and you’re off the edge again, your hands planted on the white mattress shaking and failing to keep you up. Her voice is like a trigger word that shuts all your systems down.
“See,” she says. She shuts her eyes and bites her lip. “You even, hahm, call her Nana, too.”
Give up on trying to remain stable. Place your hand instead on Heejin’s ass to help her meaningful grinding. “Everyone calls her that.”
“But you don’t even call me Heekki or anything. It’s not fair, you know. You and your fucking crush on that bitch.”
Well, she’s right. You do have a crush on Nana. She doesn’t have that wrong. The thing is—
“I’m sorry, Heekki.”
You’d tell her that as many times as she wants if that’s what makes her feel better. You still want more sessions like these with her, maybe less violent, in the future, even if your feelings for her sister are beyond mere lust.
Right, Nayeon. Nana. What do you do about your attraction to her? Could you like Heejin and her at the same time? It isn’t fair to both parties, including you. You can’t just lead them on. You’re not supposed to, to be more precise; they’re your sisters. But of course, you break that taboo and are fucking the eldest sister to her guts in her bed after having just eaten her sibling’s pussy. You wouldn’t choose one over the other.
“Hnnn, yes.” Heejin minces her words in heavy, dark tones that sound a lot more desperate than the real her. It really is your fault. You’re making her this way. “Call me that again, Jay oppa. Please? I’m, I’m your Heekki, right? Your only bunny girl?”
Little white lies, little white lies. “Yes, Heekki,” you reply. “Now hop on daddy’s cock like a good little bunny.”
“Yes, of course I will, daddy!” She’s nearly sobbing when she resumes her riding. The flexes of her thighs help her lifting and resting on your crotch. She gasps because of your hands sneaking under her handkerchief top and squeezing her ample breasts. “D-daddy, please, Heekki loves your cock, please fuck me harder!”
Jerk upwards. Heejin’s perfect pussy is a real-life fleshlight. She could be your toy anytime, one you’d bring and fuck anywhere. She’s too fitting for all the secret desires embedded in your heart. Who wouldn’t want a slutty little bunny girl toy like Heejin, with an unexpectedly sexy deep voice and a fit body?
You’re all too focused on her tiny cunt. Her hole is just made to be bred. You have to remind yourself you can’t do it. It’s hard to resist when her cunt is virginally tight and the flesh of her ass is enticing to play with. Even her groans tempt you, all those little whines and pleas shoot right at your heart (and dick.) You want to fuck her like nothing’s wrong, like she isn’t your sister and you’re not supposed to be doing this.
“Daddy, daddy, oh, daddy—” Heejin gasps.
Swipe at her clit and she screams. Shut her up with the finger you used to rub her nub, sliding it into her unprepared yet otherwise welcoming mouth. “Shut up, slut. That’s what you are, right, Heejin? Daddy’s slutty bunny girl?”
Self-contradicting or something. Oh, you don’t know.
Still with your fingers forcing her mouth open, she nods. “Mmm. Mhmm, daddy, your slut bunny, yes—”
Heejin isn’t angry anymore. Your cock turns out to be the solution to her problems, even jealousy. You’d hate to tell her that her envy is rational.
How would you tell her?
She sucks on your fingers, eyes glowing with tears of need. “Cumming’n you, now, daddy,” she breathes. “I want to be daddy’s only bunny girl, t-the one who gets to cum around his big cock everyday, please. I’m not mad, Heekki’s not mad anymore, I promise.”
Kiss her, and for a moment you forget about your own trials, too. The world gives its toughest times (resisting the urge to fuck your new sisters dumb) to its strongest soldiers (you).
-
You have more secrets about yourself and what you’ve done than you can count on ten fingers. Not even a sworn oath could drag them from your lips. Torture like waterboarding or a knife to your throat would be useless. Your lips are sealed at all times. No exceptions.
That’s why you’re able to fuck both Nana and Heejin without them knowing about it. It’s been months and it’s still going on. You can’t believe it reached this point.
You enjoy the differences between the two girls whenever you fuck them. They don’t think that you’re fucking the other either. The angry sex you had with Heejin *reduced her worries about your possible (and very real) attraction to Nana by a lot.
*(Citation, if required:
The girl was on your thigh, a night when Nana and Chan were out. You and Heejin made up an excuse: we’re too tired. It’s a school night. Some shit. The point is that the two of you threaded the circumstances and made it line up to you being alone. No distractions.
Heejin still calls you daddy, and that time was no exception. She was naked from the waist down. Her upper body being clothed in a tight baby tee didn’t make it less sexy. Seeing how the piece of clothing wrapped around her lithe form turned you on already. To add to that, she was riding your thigh, hand on your length. You made the small living room your heaven.
“Fuck,” Heejin whimpered. She chewed on her bottom lips as she rode your thigh, making use of your bounces and your hands on her hips. “Daddy, how’s it that you’re so good even when your dick isn’t inside me?”
You were flattered. Therefore, (and it was the only right thing to do in response to that), you bounced her harder. Let her grind down on your knee and stimulate her clit on the curved edge. She’s a good girl. No past tense for that one. Heejin is always your good girl, and you’re her daddy who spoils her too much. No past tense for that one either. You truly do spoil her too much—you let her drag you in the bathroom when you’re shopping just so she could drop to her knees to suck you off. You buy her expensive brands though you’re sure she makes more money than you. You do too much for her.
Her payment is better than anything you give her. She’s a good little girl who bounces on daddy’s lap and has his cum as milk before bed. Remembering that, you lifted the baby tee up to kiss her nipples. You let a slight chew ride the edges of the brown little area, then sucked hard. It gave you the reaction you wanted, the reaction you craved: Heejin cumming on your thighs.
Her grip on your cock was too tight and she never stopped jerking you off. You came on each other, bathing skin with love and lust. And you wouldn’t have it any other way.)
Nana’s the more oblivious one. She knows she has you wrapped around her finger, too much in fact that she doesn’t entertain the idea of you liking Heejin, too. *She was eager but scared at first. Now, she fucks you without doubt, without regret.
*(Another citation:
It was after a meaningful talk that she suddenly brought up that “you haven’t fucked me yet, Jay oppa,” she said. Her natural pout made it easier for you to dive into the subject.
“Sure I have,” you replied. “What are you talking about?”
You thought back to the times you fingered her to squirt and put your mouth on her. Nana was always weak for that, and you assumed that was the only way she liked it. That was why you didn’t bother extending it past that.
“Yeah,” said Nana, looking at the night sky from the terrace, “but you haven’t, like, actually put your cock in me. I want to see it! I want it inside me!”
“Alright.” You sat up. “Sure.”
“Huh?” Her cheeks reddened. She didn’t expect that at all.
“What? Let’s do it.”
“I thought you’d be all hesitant or something,” Nana explained shyly. She looked everywhere except your piercing gaze. “I think that’s why I asked. Um… what am I even saying? I want your cock, Jay oppa.”
“Come get it then.”
You loved seeing Nana so shy and bashful. It was so different from the playful arrogance she sets when she’s around you. She could be so cute sometimes.
All the time. You still haven’t gotten over what you felt for her. It’s been long since you were adopted by Chan, yet your crush on Nana’s been longer. You think that maybe she does have the same feelings. After all, why would she let you fuck her? But you keep telling yourself you’re making it more complicated than it should be. To keep on Nana’s good side, and out of your own fear, too, you need to fuck her. No sappy feelings mentioned, just the good ol’ rawdogging.
You’re happy about getting to fuck Nana. Still, it isn’t the same as getting to be her boyfriend.
You went on, nonetheless. The first time she sank down on your length, she let out the cutest sound you’d ever heard. Nana was adorable in every way. Her hands scrunched up to her face like a bunny’s would as she shyly let her pussy take in your size.
“You’re so big,” she said.
“Heard that a couple of times. What’s new?”
“Asshole.” Nana slapped your shoulder. “You sure I could do it?”
“More than. You’re almost there.”
You tried to act like you were no stranger to this and therefore didn’t care. It was difficult when Nana’s pussy was so closed around your girth that you had to guide her downwards. Her thighs twitched and her moans were higher than they usually were. When you went down on her with your tongue, she always screamed, or when you fingered her under the blanket while watching a movie. This sound from her, a whiny gasp tangled in between a shout and a cry, was new.
You wanted to become more acquainted with it, for which you started to thrust.
“Fffuck,” she whispered with a wince. Why was the pain good? It wasn’t supposed to work like that. “Jay oppa, that feels really good.”
“Doesn’t hurt anymore?”
“Just a little. Just keep, fffucking. Me. And I’ll be okay.”
You couldn’t help it. You dove in for a kiss. You held her face in your hands as you pumped away inside her. This time, you made sure to be careful. It was the first time you had ever penetrated her.
It was the one of many times, though, that you made her cum.)
“Jay.”
Deja vu hits you. Or maybe you’ve been substituting grief with it. It’s been almost a year and everything still reminds you of your parents. Jay isn’t exempted from that. You zoned out on him, just like you did to your mother and father.
It’s your duty to look at him and pay attention. He’s done so much for you already. It’s the least you could do. It’s what you would have done if you’d known that fateful day that your parents would die. “Yeah?”
Chan smiles. “Are you alright?” he asks you. He pushes the tinfoiled chocolates towards you. Dessert is an everyday thing in his house. “We lost you there a little.”
Unwrap one and pop in your mouth. “I’m fine, thanks. What were we talking about?”
“I was saying I got a promotion.”
You smile. Good things happen to good people. “Congrats, hyung!”
“Thanks, Jay! But…” Hesitantly, he continues, “because of that, I’m going on a business trip. I’ll be gone for two days.”
Heejin’s eyes widen theatrically. “Oh no,” she says in faux disappointment, “oh no, daddy.”
It sounds like she’s addressing you rather than her own real father. More context clues: she’s inched closer to you and has a hand on your thigh. She gives it a nice squeeze, causing you to straighten suddenly. This is the riskiest Heejin has gotten.
Steal a glance at Nana, who sits at the opposite side of the dinner table. She’s staring at the two of you with fire in her eyes. While she’s too cute to be menacing, she still sends a clear message: get Heejin off you now. She can’t bear with her sister being all touchy-feely with you, or having you alone with her. If she didn’t want to save face, she’d have pounced on the table to tear Heejin’s hair out.
And she’s got such a pretty, pretty face to save, doesn’t she?
“D’you think you kids could behave while I’m gone?” Chan asks. He scratches the back of his neck. “I mean, you’re all of age, and it’s technically legal, but if you want me to stay—”
“Oh, daddy, it’s fine!” says Heejin. She looks at you sweetly and raises your joined hands. “Jay oppa and I are good friends! We’ll keep the house clean!”
“What about you, Nana? What do you think?”
Nana’s glowering stare at you and her older sister is prolonged and envious. She truly can’t look intimidating with such an adorable face, but you feel her anger. It’s telepathic how she could sit there in silence and still tell you wordlessly that she’s angry. Furious is probably a better term; you can see flames rise from her eyes.
She swallows and composes herself the best she could. “I’ll be fine,” she says quietly.
Chan asks his daughter if she’s sure, and asks the older girl the same as well. He doesn’t leave you out either. He wants to balance a family and work life properly. Both should hold the same weight on the two pedestals.
That’s how you end up with him gone for two days, and during the first few minutes of his departure, you and Heejin are kissing each other. Nothing more than that is what you promise. Chastity isn’t the best virtue to go by in terms of happiness, but you attempt with what you could to keep it pure.
This is where you understand the self-contradiction, for Heejin’s stark naked from the waist and up. You can feel every bit of unclothed flesh beneath your palms. You can be the expeditioner, Heejin could be the map. You’d spread her, map out each bit of pale milky skin in the connection of your two bodies’ threshold. You’d tear her and use her to the point of impurity.
But as you said: chastity.
It’s not like Heejin’s a saint herself. The skimpy booty shorts grind down on your lap as you kiss in her bedroom. Play with her nipples you will, then also take the time to appreciate her soft thighs.
“These thighs are fucking amazing, Heekki,” you say. The nickname’s a familiar aftertaste in your mouth now. A delicious one.
“You want to fuck them, oppa… daddy? What should I call you?”
A hand on the nape of her neck, you lay Heejin down on her bed. “I don’t care. Whichever, just make sure you let me fuck these legs.”
“Oppa it is.” Heejin grins cheekily. She spreads her arms just as much as she tightens her legs together, letting you appreciate the smoothness of her pits and her slim, beautiful arms. Not to disregard the muscles denting the skin, though. “Isn’t it so sexy? I’m fucking my big brother, and my little sister can barge in anytime. It’s so risky, right, Jay oppa?”
Slip your cock between her pressed flesh, and you easily discover that her thighs are as good as they look. Slide in, slide out, and repeat the cycle like a habit of vice. You’d never want to recover. Something could speak to you in the back of your head, urging you to let go of what’s wrong, and you wouldn’t listen. Even if that something was, let’s say, Nana?
Speaking of…
“What’s wrong, Jay oppa?” said girl’s older sister asks, curious about your sudden alarmed look.
You’d say a lot of things to her, now that you have the chance to. Only one comes to mind: “I, I think there’s someone at the—”
“I fucking knew it.”
That’s how it all starts. It begins with the scene that goes like this: Nana stands at the doorway with shock veining red in her eyes. Her hand is firm on the door knob; looks like someone forgot to lock before they fuck. That someone may be you or Heejin. You never know. It’s too late, anyway. Nana already knows.
You’d adlib a lot of things in this situation, too. However, none of them sound plausible. You can’t speak when you feel this odd sense of guilt brimming in the core of your heart. Seeing Nana’s horrified expression, you realize that it’s rooted from you thinking you’ve betrayed her. There’s her, obviously being your childhood crush and the girl you’ve fucked weeks on end, and then there’s you, fucking her sister in the bedroom where she’s supposed to flee for sisterly advice and familial gossip. It’s so incredibly wrong, all of it: your girth being locked between Heejin’s thighs, her obviously enjoying the way the underside of your cock rubs her preyed pussy, and Nana, the other girl you’ve been fucking. The other sister you’re fucking.
“You lying bitch,” spits Nana, glaring at Heejin. Such a word should never escape her mouth when she looks that pure and sweet, but she isn’t what she looks like, sexually speaking. Emotionally speaking. “I’m gonna tell dad, and you’re so fucking screwed.”
“Then I’ll tell him you fucked me, too,” you fire back. Venom laces your words.
Heejin looks at you in horror. “What?”
Oh no.
Oh god.
You definitely should have thought before you spoke. Now, the cat’s out of the bag. The taboo secret you’ve tried to hide for so long from both siblings is out in the open. You can’t lie or fuck your way out of this anymore. It’s not going to work.
Nana catches on a loose thread in her sister. She tugs it to sew back her own pride. “Yeah, that’s right,” she says haughtily, “he fucked me, too. What, you thought you were special or something?”
“Hey.” She’s really going in for the kill. You have to put a stop to it before it escalates: “Let’s all just calm down—”
Heejin turns to you and laughs after a short, bitter little scoff. “No fucking way, Jay.” She drops her legs and kicks you away. Tumble into the bedroom cabinet. “You tricked us.”
She’s right. You’ll admit that because you can’t even deny it yourself. It’s true through and through; you hid two secrets from three people: your sisters and new father. But secrets always come to light, and today just so happens to be the day for your dirty little secrets.
“Yeah,” pipes up Nana. “You wanted to use two girls as your personal cumdumps you could just throw away. You don’t—”
She stops. The older girl is awfully silent and suspicious, though you are for other reasons as well.
“Oh.” She stares at Heejin for a moment, then laughs. The palm she’s placed on her mouth is only there for dramatic effect; she doesn’t bother stifling her smug laughs. “Oh. I see it now.”
“What the hell do you mean?”
Nana walks over with surprising confidence in her steps and wraps her hand around your cock. That’s the last thing you expected her to do. Your moans are a little rougher this time because of that. Nana doesn’t bother stopping to reconsider what she’s doing: jerking off her new brother in front of her sister who shares her own blood and flesh.
She pouts so pitiably that it could be a genuine emotion if she pleases. “You don’t let him cum inside you, do you, my sweet unnie?” she asks. “That’s right. I know you don’t.”
Heejin’s eyes go all bunny wide. The irony of it all could be entertaining enough for your average telenovela enjoyer. It helps that she plays her role of the shocked and offended domineering sister so well.
But this isn’t a telenovela; this is real life. You’re actually going through this. You can’t turn it off in spite of your desire to. When there’s the yearning inside you to see what more there is to unfold, though, you give in. You don’t say a word to stop the sisterly quarrel. You simply stand there prone to Nana, who jerks you off with an unrestrained anger.
Heejin, who’s used to playing the cruel girl to her sister, finds herself in a position she’s never had to experience: getting the short end of the stick. Getting pierced by the end of the stick. Was her sister’s all-too-true accusation the forbidden apple to the shame she feels out of nowhere for her naked body?
She stutters. You’ve only heard her stutter when you’re fucking her. It’s so strange to hear how she clumsily stumbles over her words in real life where she’s got no escape. “Okay,” she says, giving up, “so I don’t let him cum inside me. So what? It’s not my fault I’m not a slut like you.”
“Oh please,” scoffs Nana. Waving off her sister’s insult is also a first for her. “Tell me something I haven’t heard before. At least I get to feel his warm, thick cum inside me. You’re too scared to even let him fuck you in a position that isn’t missionary.”
“Girls,” you say, in one last futile attempt to calm them down. Do you even want to calm them down? You’re not sure.
Nana pulls you away from her sibling and smiles with such untainted sweetness that it makes you forget she was mad in the first place. Well, she’s still a little mad for what she says next:
“Come on, oppa.
“Let me do something for you that she can’t.”
Her shirt becomes a figment of your imagination. You swear it was on a few seconds ago. But now, you see how it is: no bra. Not even a white camisole. Her perky breasts are there for you to toy with. You have multiple choices, actually: her soft tummy and wide hips are there, craving for your attention. Of course you give it to them, in the form of lingering hungry touches.
Your lips are on hers all of a sudden. It doesn't even take minutes for you to have your mouths and tongues all over each other, licking where you can and kissing till the lust ferments. (Hint: it would never.) There’s an imaginary time limit going on for you and Nana, and so you’re tearing clothes off each other and stealing kisses as fast and as needily as you can.
It doesn’t take the whole time limit for Heejin to get jealous. “Get off him,” she growls. She kisses your back, the touch sending shivers on your skin. Her nipples push on you. “You like me better, don’t you, daddy? I’m your Heekki, right?”
You don’t know. As of now, you like the other bunny girl better. “We’ll see.”
“‘Daddy’?” Nana giggles. “That all you got, Heejin?”
“Where’s the ‘unnie’?”
“You’re not the unnie unless you prove yourself to be one,” the youngest of the three of you answers in a sickeningly flattering tone. She brushes Heejin’s cheek. “So what’s it gonna be?”
Heejin stammers again. The smarmy and arrogant her is lost in the jealousy she gathers because of Nana pushing you down the bed. When she sees how you react to it with your needy face and hands on her waist, the anger burns inside her harder.
Still, it surely can’t be the flame of fury that’s making her this hot and bothered, can it?
Nana backs off to present her ass to you. She circles her hips in the air, giving you a show, then places a hand on both of her cheeks. The denim shorts barely cover up the swells of her ass. “Take this off me, please, oppa?” she asks. And it’s so polite that it isn’t really your fault that you give in and tug the messily cut thing she calls shorts down.
“Daddy!” Heejin says in protest. She’s naked as well, but she’s still left out.
“I think I should be the one calling him daddy here,” gloats Nana. She rubs her ass on your cock. It perfectly pleasures the underside of your length. “After all, he’s the one who’s going to put a baby in me. But I’m sure you won’t mind.”
Her panties slide down her legs. And now, she descends.
Down she goes, but she’s only going higher. Your cock splits her pussy open, and it’s just as good as the first time. Nana still brings the same thrill you get when you fuck her hot body. Her bounces are more precise, and she learns to give you more than just the benefit of getting to screw her—she gifts you a show of her bountiful backside unintentionally clapping with the other cheek.
Spank her for that, though you should really reward rather than punish her when she’s only making you feel good. Doesn’t matter; she loves it. She looks back at you and bites her lip sultrily.
“Fuck,” you groan, “such a good girl, Nana.”
Her moans are perfected with pitch and pleas. Nana’s expressions are timed well with your thrusts and guiding hands on her hips.
“I’m a good girl, too, daddy,” Heejin says softly. She kisses your mouth. “I’ll show you, okay?”
Chan’s eldest daughter climbs on top of your face. You pull off her shorts as well—you welcome all kinds of pleasure here. Nana slams herself down harder, and right on the second you groan due to it, Heejin’s already planted her pussy on your face.
See, these are the thighs you’ve dreamed of. These are the kind that would actually crush your head. Her muscular skin ensures that your head is subjected not only to thick softness. And yes, you’ve eaten Heejin out before, in times when you’d keep her prone on the edge of her bed while you pull orgasm after orgasm out of her with just your tongue, but this time you do it with increased gusto. The sisters’ blended moans sound better than any choir of your choosing. Name a band as well, while you’re at it, and Heejin and Nana’s voices would still outdo their songs.
“Yesss, thank you, daddy!” gasps Heejin. “Oh, mmm, I’m your good little girl. And because you’re my daddy, you should always eat your good girl out.”
“You talk like an attached trophy wife,” Nana remarks with a snortle. That’s not fair on her part; you know how desperate she can get when you’re fucking her, but you can’t really oppose it when Hejein’s muffling your mouth.
The other girl can’t retort either. Your tongue’s too good to her. “Shut up. He likes my pussy more. And he treats it sooo well, don’t you, my daddy? Better than you do Nana?”
Let’s see: well, you don’t know. Both sisters have amazing bodies you’d do any time of the day. You haven’t really given the intensity you submit to them much thought. It’s hard to think now when Heejin’s urgently riding your tongue while Nana rides your cock.
“No answer,” Nana says triumphantly. “I guess he’s biased there.”
“Hmph.”
“The better girl for oppa is the one who doesn’t immediately cum just because he’s touching them. Bet?”
“It’s a bet,” replies Heejin. She really shouldn’t be giving in to a deal she’s sure to lose; you know what the quintessential quiver of her hips mean. Then again, she’s not one to back down from a competition.
It’s kind of entertaining to see the differences between the two girls. It counts back then as well. It’s like they switched personalities with how the other fits the former just as well. Nana’s not afraid to use you. She rides you at a lightning-impulsed pace, rocking your cock with a tightness you’ll never forget. Her cries are wrapped with weak gasps. On the other hand, there’s Heejin, who’s still used to being the submissive little girl to you when it’s nothing close to her real cocky attitude out of the bedroom, who’s still afraid to use you. Oh, don’t forget her moans—their depth and groany tinge make your cock throb. Too bad it’s inside Nana.
(It’s actually not that bad at all; the pulsing and twitching cause Nana to shake deliciously. Her slow, meaningful grinds bring you to life.)
Hence, you’re fucking Heejin with your tongue faster, with no care for the juices that slide down your chin and the sides of your mouth. Her clit bumps your nose. It’s an advantage you take—you push and pull her back and forth to get her shivering whenever her precious pearl hits the tip of your nose.
Nana isn’t left out of the equation either. Push your lower body upwards so that your tip meets the end of her pussy. Shimmy them so that it rubs her walls. She gasps girlishly and soon finds out that she isn’t made for the fight she started with her sister. She’s chosen to fight the wrong battle.
“I’m close,” she whimpers. Her eyes are sealed shut. “You’re too good, oppa.”
“M-me too!” Heejin says. Her voice is on the brink of a yell. Sloppily suck her clit and she’s past that. “Daddy, daddy, daddy, keep licking me like that, oh!”
“Shit… Jay oppa!”
You’re soaked on both ends. Try to clean up Heejin’s stream of cum the best you could and pump Nana’s slick out of her. In the midst of everything, you don’t stop. You want to keep hearing the girls’ beautiful cries of pleasure.
“God, enough, daddy,” begs the shaking Heejin. She’s slapping her own breasts, lip bloodied under her teeth. “I want to cum on your cock, too.”
A better premise. “Sure.”
“Wait.” Nana stops the two of you. “Who came first?”
Heejin turns away with pink cheeks.
Nana’s known her all her life, so she reads that look better than anyone else could. “Of course you did.” She rolls her eyes. “You don’t deserve to sit on his cock.”
“I do…” Her eyes are glossy. Her desperation really doesn’t go away with shame. If she were to be honest, it’s the shaming that deepens it. “But please, daddy, please—”
“Fine. Let’s ask oppa what he wants us to do. We’ll see who’s the better girl for him”
You can’t recognize Nana anymore. You know how big of a sub she can get, yet you didn’t realize how rough she can be as a dominant party in the bedroom. With how she orders around her sister and you, you’d think it’s a usual thing for her. Maybe it is.
“Nana-ya,” Heejin says, trying to bring the tone she lorded over her little sister with back. It ends up weak—it’s to no avail.
“Do it,” Nana tells her with a pitch of finality. “Ask him.”
“Fuck,” the other bunny girl says nervously. She swallows, then turns to you. You’re just as on the edge as she is. “Daddy, what do you want us to do?”
You have plenty of situations you could make them turn into reality. Some even cross the line. There are already plenty of boundaries you’ve soared past. You just have to choose one out of the many fantasies you have because now that you’re looking back at the chaos of it all, you wanted this to happen. You wanted them to find out. There’s a fucked up voice inside you that insists on becoming riskier, becoming more careless. It’s supposed to be blocked out.
Still and all, there’s Heejin and Nana beside you on the bed, with their shared pouty lips and eyes glistening with want. Said distinct, glossy features give you an idea.
“Suck my cock,” you say finally. In other settings that would have been a grave insult to the average middle school outcast. For Heejin and Nana, it’s the word of a deity himself.
Both girls don’t waste precious time on questioning if two sisters sucking their new adopted brother’s cock is morally right or not. What matters above all is that their lips decorate your length. It’s like they’re determined to give it a bath. It’s the only way you know how to explain it when Heejin’s round, doll-like eyes stare in awe at her sister running her lips up and down the sideless shape of your cock and your sensitive slit. Shiver on the occasion she licks there. Nana knows how to take cock as much as she’s learned into the art of fucking your face. It goes both ways here, you see. You wouldn’t have thought she was the one who was just recently a virgin.
Heejin leaves the tougher things to the expert. While she’s the one who first sucked your cock between the two of them, it’s clear that Nana’s better at this. She can hear your ragged moans. She remains determined to please you. She kisses your heavy balls, sucking on the prickled skin on each and licking at them lovingly.
“Fuck… Heekki…”
That’s a sign for Nana to up her game. She glares at you, and it’s everything but subtle. She throws out all the anger she’s held in her heart after the PDA you put on with Heejin recently onto sucking your cock. Her throat is tight and her mouth is warm as your cock enters and exits, stabbing through the breaths for air that never quite make it to her lungs. She doesn’t mind losing air. She does, actually, but she’s quite more focused on getting your attention back on her.
Heejin doesn’t let up on the competition. Like you said, she isn’t the type of girl to back down from a challenge. Whatever she competes at she’ll give it her all. She might have lost and came earlier than expected just a few minutes ago, sure, but she’s a competitive girl. She always wants to be on top. Or if not, underneath you.
That’s why her lips alternate between your testicles. Bite your lip to suppress yourself from tugging her hair. It doesn’t work; your hand ends up sifted in her hair and tugging so that her nose pressed on your pubic patch. From there she has to take in your musky scent and have the precum from your tip drip down the side of her face.
“We’re being good girls, Heejin,” Nana says after pulling away from your cock.
“You’re not too bad yourself,” the older one of them admits. She licks the underside of your base teasingly, sending a gasp and a sudden shot of cum out of you. “What d’you think, daddy?”
They seem to not have noticed that you orgasmed a bit. They keep lapping and kissing your cock like nothing could compare to it. No piece of arcade candy or slice of cake could match the taste of your cock. They feast on it, the little devils they are—Heejin decides to take a turn at swallowing your cock whole and succeeds while Nana kisses your thighs. You’re sensitive all over, and they have no signs of stopping. They’ll keep suckling and licking all day if you don’t conquer control again.
Therefore: get up like your latest orgasm didn’t occur.
“On your stomach. On the bed. Now.”
Soon they’re scrambling to follow your orders. Aren’t they always? Their butts are in front of you side by side. They say sisters have a lot in common—for this situation, it’s the wetness rolling droplets down their luscious thighs and the two replicas of the same, passive look as they turn their heads to you. They’re waiting for your next command.
You don’t give any. It’s all on you now.
Push yourself inside Heejin’s slick pussy. Perhaps she deserves to be fucked, like she says. So don’t bother to extract lengthy inches and just fire short, driven thrusts. Spank Nana to keep her occupied. Her moans are as sweet as her sister’s, much more when you finger her.
Tandem and might. They’re foreign concepts to you since you weren’t a sporty kind of kid. You still find yourself taking all those out on the two girls. You position yourself so that you’re able to pump fast into Heejin while keeping the deep thrusts going while curling your fingers into Nana’s weak spots.
“That’s not fair, Jay oppa,” she tells you, face buried into the sheets. It’s lucky that you even get to make out a fraction of her words. “I was the one being good.”
“Maybe he just likes me more,” quips Heejin wittily. It’s a lost sound when you punish her with a pronounced pump. Little do you know that she’d find it hot. “Fuck yes, you’re amazing, daddy.”
She gives up on trying to keep her head raised. She drops it and groans with the bed muffling the way of her voice. Who could have ever found out that the tuck of her bottom lip under her teeth, an action so simple, could fruit such lust inside you?
“Of course you’re being good, Nana. Only good girls get bred.”
They don’t get what you mean until you pull out of Heejin and slip into the sister you mentioned. Nana’s back curves beautifully and she sighs as she’s filled to the point of overflow with your hot and sticky cum. You slap her ass hard, leaving a red trace of your hand on her cheek. She grinds seductively into your cock burying itself to the depths of her pussy.
“Noooo,” sobs Heejin, green with envy. “Please, gah, just let me have your cum. I promise I’ll let you cum inside me all the time. Can do it even with my dad watching, or Nana, just please—”
“Desperate little slut. Will you let my naughty big sister have what she wants, oppa?”
In one way or another, Heejin always gets what she wants. She could be the one underneath you, sure, and she’d remain the benefactor.
Such is the beauty of having her cum beautifully and instantly on your fingers after you finger out some cum from Nana’s pussy into hers.
-
Chan never does find out what the white on Heejin’s bed is from. Is it from a girl’s problem that isn’t too known? He doesn’t know. It might be glue. Whatever. He’s not that well-versed into feminine problems, so he simply assumes those are the source of them.
He also doesn’t know why the sisters suddenly don’t fight anymore. It’s a well-kept secret that you’ve made a pact with them, told them that you could be theirs as long as they kiss you and don’t tell. It works well to keep the sisters in line, and it’s beneficial for Chan, too. He doesn’t have to pacify repeated arguments anymore.
So far the peace in your new home is maintained. The bedroom is exempted.
Obviously.
#kpop smut#female idol smut#girl group smut#loona smut#artms smut#jeon heejin smut#heejin smut#loona heejin smut#artms heejin smut#woo!ah! smut#woo!ah smut#woo ah smut#kwon nayeon smut#nana smut#nayeon smut#woo!ah! nana smut#woo!ah nana smut#woo ah nana smut#male reader#x reader#idol x reader#idol x male reader#reader insert#pov smut#kofimission#commission
1K notes
·
View notes
Note
You're such a wicked menace, Eva!
Title: Insatiable
Characters/Pairings: Bucky Barnes x female!Reader
Word Count: 1845
Summary: Your new boyfriend comes along when you pick up the keys for your new apartment and conduct the move-in inspection.
Content Warnings: explicit smut (oral - female receiving, vaginal fingering, nipple play, vaginal penetration, hint at overstimulation, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, cream pie)
Logistical Notes: Fulfilling my February box for @buckybarnesevents Build-a-Bucky Bingo event (forehead kiss, fingering). Follows our Desperate couple but can be read as a stand alone piece.
Additional Notes: Honestly I didn't have any plans to return to our rivals-to-lovers couple from Desperate and Uncertain and Sure again so soon, but this gif hit a certain inspiration and may pull from some literal "reader insert" vibes as I'm moving into a new apartment right now... Also thoroughly inspired by this post coming across my dash today thanks to @ghotifishreads.
↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest
You couldn’t help the permanent smile on your face.
Yes, moving was going to be a hassle, and you didn’t have a clue how everything was going to fit into this tiny one-bedroom apartment, but being back in the place again, keys officially in your hands, the place really yours, standing in front of the bright living room windows that made your heart sing when you first saw the place, that feeling that this was your place warmed your whole chest again.
It was hard to break away from the light streaming in through the windows, but you turned your head to look at Bucky. “So? What do you think of the place?”
He was new to your life, too.
The kidnapping and rescue in Paris had been only a month ago. Over that month, you and Bucky had been figuring out what the revelation of your feelings for each other meant outside of a life and death situation. Parts of that were easy, other parts were trickier, but nothing that made you want to abandon ship.
“I think it’ll suit you well,” he answered. His smile was soft. You loved seeing this side of him, especially after so many years of angst and rivalry between you.
“You’re practically glowing with excitement,” he added.
Your smile grew to a grin, and you shrugged one shoulder. “It’s smaller than the place I’ve been, but I couldn’t resist all this sunlight.”
You turned around and looked at the empty living room that bled into the kitchen area. “I want to try and measure things and figure out where everything will go before the movers bring the furniture in tomorrow. I’m still worried about whether all my shelves will fit or not.”
You set your bag down on the kitchen counter and began to pull out a measuring tape, the blue painters tape you planned on using to map out the furniture shapes on the floor and rummaged for the hastily scribbled together list you’d made of your furniture dimensions.
Bucky had remained silent – he was often so silent you could forget he was present when you got immersed into something – and you spun back around to see him still in the same position across the room by the windows, studying you.
“What?”
“You know what we have to do before anything else,” he said seriously.
“What’s that?”
He licked his lips.
Oh.
Your stomach flipped.
“Bucky, we can’t–”
He chuckled. “You have the keys, it’s officially your place,” he said, stalking toward you. “We absolutely can.”
Before you could utter another word, he reached for your elbow and tugged you into his arms, planting a sound kiss right on your mouth, swallowing all protest. He coaxed your lips open, and his tongue licked into your mouth, drawing an eager moan from you.
Damn, he was too good at this, you thought as your hands came up to clutch at his back.
He pressed your bodies together, and you were not surprised to feel the evidence of his arousal pressing against you. One thing you had learned about Bucky over the last month was that he could be ready to have you on the turn of a dime, and he could be insatiable. That your body responded so quickly to him as well was both blessing and curse. Less than a minute and you were melting completely against him, eager for more, and you could feel the slickness already growing at your slit.
Your hands dropped down his back, but only to reach the hem of his sweater before dipping under so your fingers could eagerly climb up against his naked skin. He grinned into the kiss.
With his sweater quickly halfway up his torso, Bucky broke off the kiss momentarily to pull it up and off the rest of the way. Then he coaxed you down to the floor, spreading his sweater down on the hardwood floor and laying you gently on top of it. His body covered yours, and he began kissing you in earnest again, his vibranium arm planted next to your head while his other hand began deftly working at the buttons on the front of your blouse.
It was only another moment or two before he’d pushed your shirt open to bare your torso to him, and Bucky wasted no time in trailing his hot lips down your throat to blaze down your chest, paving a heated path between your breasts, over the band of your bra, and down your stomach. He gave your belly button a playful lick that had you gasping and a giggle bubbling up your throat.
“Bucky!”
He chuckled, and reached down to pull your shoes off as he pressed more kisses over your stomach. Then, with both shoes discarded, he knelt above you to unbutton and unzip your jeans, before pulling them down and off your legs. As your legs came back down on either side of him, his hands skimmed slowly along your inner thighs, and when they reached your core, he pressed one thumb at the base of your clothed slit and brushed it up over the damp cloth of your panties, the other thumb following just after and teasing you again there. You canted your hips up, wordlessly asking for more.
Bucky smirked, but he hooked his fingers into the waistband of your underwear and quickly pulled them off, tossing them to the side as well.
“Please,” you begged.
“Happily,” he whispered, then lowered himself down to wedge his shoulders between your thighs, pressing them wide to accommodate his broad frame. He licked a stripe up your dripping slit, moaning at the taste of you.
Your stomach swam with butterflies and your cheeks heated slightly. You had never been with anyone so unabashedly open with their desire for you as Bucky. He held nothing back when expressing his pleasure, his desire. It was a heady thing to be on the receiving end of, and you it still had you between feeling slightly flustered and drowning further in the depths of how intoxicating it was to know the effect you had on him.
He applied a second, slower lick over your folds, and then he began to kiss your lower lips the way he did your mouth, and your entire body coiled up for him, back arching, hands grabbing for his short hair, legs contracting.
“Bucky, god, yes,” the words tumbled out as you quickly began to lose more and more of your coherence.
But he was slow and torturous in his ministrations. You squirmed for more, but he held your pelvis down with one firm hand, while the other gently caressed your hip. Your fingers found his vibranium ones, and he entwined them with yours and started to fuck your cunt with his tongue.
When he heard a little whine escape from you, he began to suck your clit diligently. The orgasm that he’d been building you toward escaped from you briefly, but the switch picked right up on building that tension again, and he flicked his tongue a few times across your swollen nub as he sucked, and then you cried out as you finally tumbled over the edge of ecstasy.
He pressed a kiss to your cunt, then shifted up, quickly maneuvering his hands beneath your back to unclasp your bra and pull off your last piece of clothing. It was the only moment of reprieve he gave you, because then his mouth dipped to suck at one of your tits, and one of his hands worked into your folds, slowly stroking in and out of your tight channel. Two fingers curled into your pussy, and he quickly found one of his favorite places – that spongy spot on the front of your walls, knowing he found exactly the spot he needed as you gave a debauched moan. He slipped in a third finger, and as he sucked the hardened nub of your nipple and lapped at it, he worked to rip your second orgasm from your soul more quickly. It was clear nothing was going to deter him from his plans to ruin you in the empty apartment, and you could only be glad you were up on a floor high enough you didn’t risk any neighbors seeing in your open blinds to see the way he was taking you apart right there on the floor.
The second orgasm burst through your body unexpectedly, and it stole the breath from your lungs.
It had ripped through you so powerfully that you didn’t register the clinking sound of his belt buckle coming undone and hitting the floor as he unzipped and pushed down his jeans and boxer briefs.
But you noticed he wasn’t finished with you as he slipped one hand under your thigh and angled your hips to slot the head of his cock between your puffy folds.
You whimpered, fighting to open your eyes and plead your case as you looked into in the depths of his heated blues. Whether you were pleading for him to stop or for more, you really didn’t know or care at this point.
He hitched your leg up around his hip and slowly slid his fat cock fully into your cunt. “So damn good.”
You moaned openly, completely debauched on pleasure at this point, but clearly your pussy wouldn’t refuse him plying you with even more of it.
Deep, slow strokes.
You felt every aching inch of him as he thrust slowly in and out of your tight channel. He still made you stretch around him, and it was exquisite for both of you.
Full, so full.
In and out.
So deep inside of you now, and you could do nothing but make incoherent noises beneath him, gasping for air. “I know, sugar, I know," he murmured into the crook of your neck. "Gonna give us what we both need.”
And he fucking does, as he does every time, using your body as if he’s had you for years. He rewarded you both with an orgasm that truly leaves you boneless and breathless once he finally pushed you over the edge and then sped up his thrusts to chase his own release as your vagina squeezed around his throbbing cock. He groaned as he spilled hot ropes of cum inside of you, thrusting until he’d emptied himself in you completely. Finally, he collapsed on top of you, and pressed kisses into the crook of your neck, then along your jaw, allowing you to try and catch your breath before finally kissing your lips again.
You whined against his lips, and he rolled over, taking you with him, and letting you lay half on his chest, half against his side. He continued to kiss you lazily.
You didn’t know how long he continued to make out with you, but the sun’s rays had shifted significantly once he pressed a kiss to your forehead and you rested your head on his bare shoulder.
“It’s a good floor,” he said, almost mundanely.
You laughed softly.
“We’ll need to check the counters a little later,” he added.
↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest
#bucky barnes#sebastian stan#bucky barnes smut#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x female reader#aspen wrote something#aspen asks#desperate verse#build a bucky bingo 2023#babb2023
454 notes
·
View notes
Note
hi! i found your blog yesterday and i’m obsessed! i was wondering if you could do one where in Y/N’s culture give someone a hand-crafted object (like a wood carving), it’s a way of confessing without actually saying that they like that person, but only Gandolf and Aragorn know since they have traveled all around Middle Earth! Thanks so much for your time!
Thank you, I’m glad you like this blog! I hope you’ll enjoy your post!
･ﾟ✧ Aragorn.
Indeed, Aragorn knows exactly what you mean when you gift him the wooden amulet you crafted over the past few days. He smiles fondly, aware of what this means for you. He’d take it the exact same way as he would a verbal love confession, takes your hands in his and gives you a kiss ♡ He'd also ask you about the exact cultural implications of the symbols you used etc.!
･ﾟ✧ Arwen.
Arwen has been kind to you ever since you started your work as a blacksmith in Rivendell. She is very impressed with your work and you soon start to fall for her. When her favourite bracelet breaks one day, you see your chance to use your newly-learned skills of Elven craftmanship to make her a new one. Though part of you wished she understood your gift’s meaning, Arwen’s unknowing reaction makes you just as happy: she’s beaming with joy and giving you a tight hug!
･ﾟ✧ Boromir.
Boromir spends days wracking his brains about the hand-crafted sheath you made for him. Every time he turns it in his hands, he can feel the energy and affection you poured into his gift. Still, its true meaning stays a mystery to him… until one day, he’d not-so-casually ask you, “It doesn’t carry a deeper meaning, does it?”
･ﾟ✧ Elrond.
The day Elrond finds the artful bookmark you crafted for him on his table, wrapped in a gorgeous leaf, he starts researching your culture. He faintly remembers hearing of love customs from your home region but thinks this couldn’t be possibly true! After a whole day of reading, he’d ask you for a conversation and talks about it to you, always respecting your culture’s habit of not outright stating your feelings. He’d be very understanding.
･ﾟ✧ Éomer.
Éomer is convinced that the little horse figurine you carved out of the most gorgeous walnut wood is a present you gave him out of fascination and respect for Rohirrim culture. While he is happy about the kind gesture, he is entirely oblivious to its meaning. So one day, when you absolutely couldn’t take it anymore, you’d had to take him aside and break your culture’s customs – because otherwise, this man wouldn’t get it!
･ﾟ✧ Éowyn.
While Éowyn may be unaware of your culture’s custom, she does recognise how much gifting her handcrafted objects means to you. So, she soon starts making something for you in return – albeit clumsily – but still you can’t help but swoon! You start to develop a playful gift exchange that Éowyn partakes in so lovingly that in the end, it doesn’t really matter that she didn’t know of your specific custom. Since you get together anyway, you can just tell her afterwards!
･ﾟ✧ Faramir.
Whatever you craft for Faramir, be it a bookmark, a tool, or a piece of jewellery – he’d treasure it religiously. Maybe he’d even build a shrine around it, hidden away in his quarters, where he’d sit down and think of you. Imagine his shock when he learns (possibly through Gandalf) of your gift’s true meaning – the poor man would blush like a sunrise, unable to speak to you for the next few days. He is ashamed of his perceived ignorance toward you and overwhelms you with the most romantic love confession in return!
･ﾟ✧ Frodo.
Frodo would be very casual about the notebook you crafted for him. He uses it as his journal, for flower pressing, and recipes. Everybody keeps asking about the gorgeous binding and covers, and he always redirects everyone to you with great pride. He is glad that your crafting skills finally find recognition in the Shire. However, since you only craft for those you love, you always have to send the other Hobbits away, until one day you admit to Frodo the truth behind your gift, which he takes with great joy.
･ﾟ✧ Galadriel.
Galadriel is convinced that the ring you made for her carries a deeper meaning, she just can’t quite put her finger on it, with you being so mysterious. It intrigues her, since usually everyone is an open book to her. When she asks you anew about your gift, you can’t help but give in to her warm telepathic voice, and confess your feelings to her. She’d light up with joy – “What a wonderful gift! The most precious anyone has to give!”
･ﾟ✧ Gandalf.
For Gandalf, you’d craft a new staff or wand. You don’t expect much when you gift it to him, so his sudden attention comes as a surprise to you: “You said you’ve made this yourself? It is an artful present…” His soft, loving glance would instantly tell you he understood. You share a blissful laugh, before he would deny any knowledge about your culture.
･ﾟ✧ Gimli.
You’d gift Gimli a precious stone or gem you found in the mines, having perfected it into a shape that’s perfect for his collection. When you gift it to him, his reaction puzzles you though: “No gem in this world is more precious than your presence in my life…” He wanted to confess to you too – what impeccable timing!
･ﾟ✧ Haldir.
Haldir is the worst person to make gifts for – while he trains his face not to show it, his confusion is still very much readable to you, now that you know him. The archery gloves you made for him are stored away deep in his travel bag, never to be seen again. It’s not until Aragorn secretly informs him of your region’s customs that Haldir finally understands your gesture – which leaves him even more irritated...! He is considerate enough to say “thank you” at least, with a timid kiss ♡
･ﾟ✧ Legolas.
Legolas would be thrilled that you made him an arrow, not meant for battle but prestigious decoration. The affection and care you poured into your hand-crafted gift do not escape his sharp attention, whenever he touches the glistening arrow and turns it in his hands. Intrigued by these feelings, he starts ‘investigating’ – meaning he teases you about a possible crush. He’d only stop when he sees how important this topic is too you, which is when he finally understands.
･ﾟ✧ Merry.
For Merry, you’d craft a new pipe. He is excited about your gift but oblivious to the deeper meaning behind it. That said, his sharp attention does catch your slight blush when you give it to him. It makes him think – and after days and days of pondering, he starts a courting offensive on his own, until the day you finally get together!
･ﾟ✧ Pippin.
The wood carving you’d gift Pippin is originally meant for decoration, but he carries it around his neck as an amulet. He proudly tells everyone who made it – and knowing how close the two of you are, it doesn’t take a genius to understand your gift’s true meaning. The situation would eventually solve by Pippin telling you, completely confused: “I thought we already were an item?! Of course I love you too!”
･ﾟ✧ Sam.
Out of all the Middle-Earth characters, Sam probably appreciates handcrafting and artisanship the most, being a craftsman himself. His reaction to your wood carving of a sunflower is appropriately flustered: “This must’ve taken quite some time to make, I’d say. Turned out so beautiful, too. Not that I expected anythin’ else from you! You are very skilled in many areas, after all…” His beautiful little speech charms you so much that you end up confessing your love unconventionally! Be it verbally or with a surprise kiss ♡
#lotr imagine#lotr headcanons#lotr x reader#aragorn x reader#arwen x reader#boromir x reader#elrond x reader#eomer x reader#eowyn x reader#faramir x reader#frodo x reader#galadriel x reader#gandalf x reader#gimli x reader#haldir x reader#legolas x reader#merry x reader#pippin x reader#samwise x reader#* ask#* request#* fluffy
1K notes
·
View notes
Note
charles having a baby fever
Father Material
Charles Leclerc x Reader
Genre: fluff but also kinda smutty
Request: I saw this and my brain immediately went down the gutter. I appreciate you for this request 🙏 also my requests are open so send me things
Summary: Charles gets a case of baby fever and you're willing to indulge him ;)
Warnings: sexual themes ahead, not the whole thing but it's definitely in there. Talks of pregnancy.
Notes: I would be lying if I said I'm not a hoe for this man. Written in third person.
Masterlist
The following media is not intended for anyone below the age of 18. If your are under that, please do not interact with this post.
Charles had managed to take notice of every child in the paddock that day.
He'd recently been noticing small things. Things like baby clothes, small children, family interactions.
He'd watched Sergio and Kevin with their kids. Seb had brought his family around. It was starting to get to him.
He'd be lying if he said he didn't want kids. Starting a family was always a dream of his. Something him and his wife talked about often. They just hadn't really tried for a baby.
He knew she was at their house. Waiting for him to come home with groceries. It felt peaceful compared to the life they lived during race season.
As he walked, he could pick out every family. Kids bundled up in their winter clothes. Adults holding them upright so they don't slip and fall.
He could hardly take it. He's never walked home so fast in his life.
She was in the kitchen when he appeared behind her in the doorway. She was prepping to make dinner.
Charles looked disheveled, out of breath. She was concerned and yet simultaneously turned on by his appearance.
"Are you alright?" She asked. Charles quickly came back to his senses. Dropped the bass on the floor and wrapped her in a hug.
"We should have a baby." He was looking directly into her eyes. His face completely straight.
She was taken off guard for a moment. Then, realizing the proposal, she started excitedly shaking her head.
Charles was waiting no time. Vigorously kissing her lips. Heavy but passionate.
She was giggling at him. "What are you laughing at?" He asked as he swiftly picked her up and set her on the counter.
"Nothing, I just find you adorable."
He was mumbling French into her collarbone and Italian into her chest. Letting his hands roam her body freely.
"You are so beautiful. Soon, you will become a goddess. Pregnant with our child." He cradled her face in his hands.
"Charles I swear if you don't stop teasing-" She couldn't get any farther as Charles practically ripped her clothes off. Now left in only her underwear.
He ran his fingers lightly across her now bare skin. Memorizing the feeling. Paying attention to the way she reacted to his touch.
His shirt and jeans were next. His lips only breaking away from her for a second. Her fingers begin tracing every line on his body. The way his chest was rising and falling in rapid succession.
“Mon Amour, shall we start here, then maybe move to the couch, then into the bedroom.” He’s voice is dripping with need. He is going to take her on every piece of furniture even if it takes all night.
Her brain was already turned off. The act of thinking to much with the feeling of his fingers worshiping her. She practically fell into him, humming her approval.
Charles lifted her for a second, her only remaining garment now tossed aside.
Then he took her on the counter, then again on the chair, the dining room table and the couch. Finally they made it to the bed where Charles made love to her softly. Her body trembling with every ministration.
Charles is the ‘king of aftercare’ as she likes to call him. Something he occasionally gloated about. Much to Pierre's dismay.
He grabbed a wet rag and a cup of water. Using the rag to clean off the bodily fluids that covered both of them.
She curled her body into Charles. Her head rested on his chest.
"I think you'll make a great dad." She mumbles. Charles laughs at the notion.
"Why do you think that Mon chère?"
"You just seem like father material, ya know."
"Guess I should learn some dad joke then." The two were both laughing now.
Basking in eachothers presence. Fantasizing about what life will be like with a growing family.
#x reader#fanficion#f1 fic#formula one#formula 1#racing#charles leclerc x reader#f1 fanfic#charles leclerc x you#charles lechair#charles leclerc fic#charles leclerc is a simp and you can't change my mind#charles leclerc#charles#leclerc#cl16#cl16 x reader#charles leclerc imagine#ferrari formula one#scuderia ferrari#ferrari racing#ferrari#ferrari f1#formula racing#racing driver#fluff#smut#f1 imagine#open requests#max verstappen
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
new blood
ellie williams x fem! reader
enemies to lovers!
part 2!
summary; you had finally found joel, the man that had taken away your father. surprises show on the faces of his allies when you join them, instead of hunt them down for revenge, ‘cause you were already a prey under the eyes of your sister; abby. but there’s one of them that seems to take a special interest in you: ellie williams.
cw for this chapter; blood, weapons, chains, hostages, fighting, broken bones, threatening, mentions of abuse and imagery (abusive parent), drug usage (weed)…
REMINDER: english is not my mother language so i apologize if there are some mistakes <3 !¡ either ways, i hope y’all like it. <3
REPOSTS AND COMMENTS ARE VERY MUCH APPRECIATED!<3
Please, under no circumstances, repost my work on any other sites. I do not consent to anyone taking my work and posting it as their own.
-
Another day begun, and just like the last… you didn’t know how many days you’d been her, chained to this wall, but what you knew is that they all started the same way.
One, Two, Three Clicks, a knock and the door was opening.
Bright green eyes found yours, and as always, you ignored her, just like you ignored those who accompanied her. Every and each day they did the same. Came for questions that you wouldn’t answer. Came for something that you wouldn’t give them. How much would they keep you here? Would they get rid of you eventually? Would you rot here?
You kicked the still full trolley that they had left for you the night before towards the girl that stood at the front of the group. She looked rough, with freckles decorating her cheeks and a scar his right eyebrow. Her hair was up in a half messy bun, and there was a gun hidden underneath her green combat coat. It was cold. You could see it in the way her fingernails were turning just the slightest purplish.
The food spilled, and the water wetted her boots, but you didn’t care, she didn’t either. It had been days since you’d eaten. But you were clever. Who told you they wouldn’t drug you? Humans were scary, the real monsters in a world filled with them.
She simply approached you, boots heavy, a thud accompanying her walk as she threw something towards you as well; your backpack. You were quick to grab it, ripping it open and taking out your dagger under the vigilance of the whole group. She never stopped getting closer and closer —even if you were pointing at her with a weapon that you were more than ready to use—, until she had crouched down in front of you, bits of her hair cupping her cheeks.
“You’re not scared.” you muttered and the auburn haired simply shrugged. “Then unlock me.” you ordered and she smirked.
“How about a ‘thank you first’? If you can’t recall, I’m the one who told them to not shoot you.”
“Why would I fucking thank you? I’m chained to a fucking wall!” you hissed and she arched her eyebrows. Your grip tightened around the switch blade.
“If you kill me they’ll kill you.” she said, and nodded towards those who stared at you through the other side of the room.
“I’d like to see them try.” you smiled.
Two men and three women counting with this fucking asshole talking to you.
That’d be easy.
“What do you say? Want me to give you a matching scar on your other eyebrow? Maybe one across your neck would look good.” the girl simply stared at you, not even startled by your threat. Her green eyes never left yours, not even when she got up and gave you her back to get to the door. “Fucking let me out!”
But the door was closing, and you were left alone once again, completely trapped.
“Fuck!” you smashed the glass of water that stood on your new food trolley —the one that she had brought you for the morning— against the door, smashing it to pieces.
And that’s when it hit you. That’s right. You just needed to break.
-
“Okay! Let’s try this again.”
You were laying on your side when you heard her, the door opening with a creek along with the wood floorboards underneath the weight of those who had entered the room. You were giving them your back, trying to stay as still as possible, nor even breathing.
You didn’t answer, didn’t even turn. You were getting out of here.
Your lip was bleeding due to your teeth digging so harshly on its flesh, pain shooting through your veins.
Breathe.
The silence that came after that was terrifying, even more the sound of their guns cocking.
Breathe.
Something was wrong. You knew they knew. But they didn’t knew what exactly. So you had an advantage. You just needed to move your pawns the way you needed to and you’d be able to scape.
Steps became closer, and your breath almost hitched. Just a little bit more…
“Hey.”
You moved so fast it was almost impossible to follow, your body suddenly rising and swinging the chain that had had you captive for days. You dodged the bullet that her gun sent towards you and tugged from it when the chain had surrounded her wrist, sending her weapon far away from her reach.
You smiled as you pressed your switch blade against her neck once you’d managed to press her back against your chest, her hair was ticking your skin, and guns were pointing directly to your head.
“Huh-uh…” you chuckled, raising your eyebrows to the group that now threatened you. But you had now the upper hand. “I wouldn’t shoot if I were you. Wouldn’t want her to become my shield, right?”
The red head stood completely still, her green eyes on the oldest man of her companions. Bingo.
“Oh don’t look at me like that, old man. I swear I’m a good girl.” you pouted, still pressing the blade harder against the unknown girl’s neck.
“Ellie-“ he tried and come closer, but Ellie rose one of her hands, stopping him.
Ellie, Ellie, Ellie, Ellie, Ellie….
“Clever girl.” you muttered against her neck, and she hissed.
“You broke the chain?” she inquired and you chuckled.
“Not exactly.”
That when they all noticed. The hand that was holding the blade… It was broken, all bruised and bloody, shaking in pain but still ready to kill if the occasion called for it.
“You broke your hand?” the old man that had tried and step closer to help Ellie inquired, his eyes seeming shocked, even impressed by how far would you go to survive.
“Great, so the pops still has great sight.” you rolled your eyes, and he glared at you, his grip tightening around the gun. “You see… It was great. This whole cheap free hotel, nice food, comfortable floor to sleep…But I was getting pretty fucking tired of being your dog.” you shrugged. “So if you let me go… I promise not to bite.” you smiled, the threat on your eyes sending shivers down the spine of anyone that could ever lay eyes on you.
“You see… That was great.” Ellie suddenly said, and your hand shook against her neck. “The whole I’m so fucking crazy I’m gonna fuck up my hand and scape. But your plan is fucking stupid.” you frowned, but soon enough you were groaning when she suddenly grabbed your fucking hand and simply squeezed it, pain shooting down your spine.
In just a matter of seconds she had you pinned to the ground, your switch blade meters away scattered on the floor.
“You fucking bitch!” you seethed, trying to scape her hold, but she simply squeezed harder, digging her fingertips on your bruised and swollen skin.
“Oh, but I though the dog here was you, aren’t you?” your chest rose at her words, and before she could look away, you had spat on her face.
“Let me go.” you repeated, even if you knew you now were the one in trouble.
“Not until you tell me how you found us.” she answered, and you simply quieted down. “Answer me.” you cried out in pain when she twisted your wrist. The pain was making you see red.
“Ellie…”
“Shut it Dina.” she hissed, and you almost swore you could die when she banged your hand against the floor, making your head spin. “Answer me!”
“Joel!” you whimpered, breathy, sweat decorating your skin. “I came…, for Joel.” you muttered and the whole room fell silent. “And from that silence… I’m guessing it’s one of you, isn’t it? You two have aged since the last time I saw you… But I’d never be able to forget those names…” you smiled, and you saw her whole body stiffen up. “Even if it was years ago that he killed an entire hospital full of people just to save you, isn’t that right… Ellie?” her jaw tightened.
“Who are you?” the old man stepped closer, and you stared at him.
“Just the daughter of the surgeon that was supposed to cut her open.” you shrugged, and you shook when his finger pressed just the slightest against the trigger. “Woah, calm down pops. I’m not here to kill you, just to warn you that they’re coming after you.”
“Who? Who is coming after him?” Ellie inquired and your eyes were back on hers.
“Abby. My dear sister.” you scoffed, and moaned in pain when she tugged on your broken hand. “Fuck.”
“And why would you help us?” Joel spat, a visible frown on his face.
“Because you helped me first by killing that son of a bitch.” you answered. “And because she wants me dead too.”
-
You hissed and the woman simply sighed, finishing up with the bandaging of your broken hand.
“This… I don’t even have words for this. So you’re telling me that this group lead by… Abby, is coming after Joel to take revenge on him?” a man with brown long slicked hair sighed.
“How many are them?”
“About twenty.” you bit down on your lip when the curly haired tightened the bandages so your hand would be immobilized.
“Weapons?” Joel inquired, right beside the man who had just asked you. They looked similar. Maybe brothers.
“Guns, knives… Pretty much the same stuff you guys have.” you shrugged.
You could feel that pair of green emerald eyes burying into your skull from across the room, but you’ve decided just to ignore it and live peacefully with yourself.
“I still don’t understand it. Why would you make it all the way here to warn us?”
“I already told your, pops. Shit, you really need to check your hearing.” you rolled your eyes. “I’m just thanking you for killing my father that’s it.” you thanked the woman who you recall had been called Maria before when she had finished up with your hand.
“You’re… Thanking me.” you nodded. “For killing your father.” you nodded again and Joel blinked in confusion. “Why?”
“Why what?” you asked.
“Why are you thanking me for killing him? Shouldn’t you be siding up with your sister and coming after me?” you looked at him and then away, falling silent.
You got up from your seat and took your bag. They all watched you put your coat back on and push your gun on the back of your pants.
“Does it really matter? Just take the fucking help and try not to die.” you spat. It was obvious the venom and bitterness on your voice. “I’m done here. I’m leaving, probably to the other side of this fucking country to live in a farm or some shit until the day I peacefully die.” you pulled up the zipper of your coat. “I would say it was nice meeting you. But you treated me like pure shit, so I’d be lying.” you said before making your way towards the door.
“Wait.” Joel’s brother, now known as Tommy, interrupted your leave. “Why don’t you stay? At least for a couple of days, you’re safe here and they would find you. Once we take care of them, you won’t need to hide anymore and leave. At least let us thank you for helping us.” you stated at him, then at the rest.
“I don’t take charity.” you said. “I’ll leave now.”
“You really wanna go?” that was the first time you’ve heard her talk in hours. You could help but look at her, at her auburn hair, freckles and green eyes. “Since you’ve been in the same room for days, you might have not noticed the fact that we’re in the middle of a fucking storm.” and as if the world was trying to make a point, a loud bolt of lightning came crashing down the sky. How the hell hadn’t you heard those before? “And it will get much worse.”
You took a deep breath. Fucking hell.
After a few moments in silence you talked, sighing.
“Fine. But once it’s gone I am too. I’m not fucking staying for tea parties.” you spat.
And just like that, your cage had expanded from a room to the whole town.
-
Your hand hurt like hell. And you were fucking exhausted. But you couldn’t sleep. Wouldn’t sleep as long as she’d be there.
“Are your ever gonna put that thing down?” her green eyes met the switchblade on your hand.
You were back at her house, where Maria had placed you from the time being until she could find a clean and fixed place for you to stay.
“I think we both know the answer to that.” you answered, squinting your eyes, to what she rolled hers.
“Whatever. I’m gonna smoke. You enjoy your little psychotic breakdown.”
You watched as she made her way towards her side bed table and took a metal little box out of it before coming back to the salon, where the two of you had been sitting.
“Weed? Seriously?” you inquired, eyebrows rising when the smell hit your nose once she had opened the lid.
“I’d better be high if I’ll be sharing my house with you. It’s survival instinct.” she shrugged and you scoffed.
“Bitch.”
“That’s all? Damn, you really know where to hurt don’t you?” the sarcasm was palpable on her voice, and you rolled your eyes.
“Whatever.”
You two fell silent, and you simply stared at her roll the blunt with her slim yet long fingers, lick the paper to seal it and burn it just the slightest so it would have more firmness.
She took a big inhale once it was lit up.
You shrugged your jacket off, uncovering your shoulders and arms, more comfortable now on only your white tank top.
Ellie’s eyes landed on the exposed skin, the emerald shifting once she had took in the multiple scars that decorated them, along with your shoulders and back.
“Pretty aren’t they?” you sarcastically scoffed, and that’s when she noticed that she had been staring for far too long.
“Clickers?” she inquired, taking another drag of her blunt.
“My father.”
Her face fell, her breath hitched as you looked away.
“Let’s say I wasn’t his favorite.” you shrugged. “And that he was a fucking alcoholic with a lot of bad days.”
Ellie looked at you, silently, listening. She felt sorry for you. She never got to have a father, nor a biological one at least, but just to think about how your own blood could have done something as brutal as that to you…
“So now you might understand why I came here. How grateful I am to Joel for having ripped him out of my life. He saved me.” you muttered, still not looking at her.
Long minutes passed by in complete silence.
You two didn’t interact until she slowly but softly offered you her blunt. You rose your eyebrows before accepting it, taking a drag of it and slightly coughing.
“This shit’s strong.” you bitterly said, but still took another long and deep drag, already feeling slightly lightheaded.
“Why thank you. Appreciate it.” she smirked and your mouth slightly fell. “Best in Jackson.” you laughed at her confidence, your laughter filling and warming the room.
You offered it back to her, and as the time passed you two shared it in a deep silence.
Soon enough it went out, and Ellie got up, eyes tired and body heavy.
“Gonna go to my room. There’s more blankets on that basket in case you need ‘em.” you nodded. “Night.”
“Night.”
And with that you laid on the sofa, eyes unable to close. But it was okay. You couldn’t truly remember the last time your mind had been quiet enough to sleep. Ellie stood up all night as well. And the silence in between the two of you couldn’t be any more loud.
-
a/n; this has been sitting on my drafts for far too long. part two? 👀
ellie williams masterlist! <3
xxx
#ellie x fem reader#ellie williams tlou#ellie williams x f! reader#ellie williams angst#ellie williams x y/n#ellie williams x you#ellie miller#ellie williams x reader#ellie williams#ellie williams smut#ellie williams imagine#ellie williams x female reader#ellie x reader#ellie williams fluff#tlou fic#tlou fanfiction#tlou x reader#tlou imagine#tlou fluff#joel tlou#joel miller tlou#tlou2#tlou smut#tlou
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
i'm...thinking about writing a book?
I mean. I feel really silly at the thought because i'm not like a scientist or anything, i'm barely at the beginning of my knowledge journey, but...being a writer was what I always wanted to do. It's what I've been doing ever since I could remember. And I'm constantly, constantly just so full of things that I want to tell the whole world. I will have a realization or idea and think, oh my god. Everyone needs to know this. But I can't tell everyone. I'm not good at talking.
I'm good at writing. But I will sit down to write a post on my silly little blog and get so overwhelmed by the SCALE of everything I want to say.
I think I've already started to write a book. I think the space for these ideas to fill is already the size of a book and it will never have any smaller of a size, and no one else will come along to write the book, and no one else CAN write the book, and IT HAS TO BE WRITTEN.
I want to write about the ways of the plants, of course. I want to teach how to transplant and how to gather seeds and the properties of keystone species...but more importantly, I want to write about how to learn the ways of the plants. I want to promote the habit of insatiable curiosity and intense observation. I want to show everyone that everything everywhere is infinitely interesting and mysterious, and if you pay attention to the plants, they will teach you.
I want to write about Symbiosis. I want to write about how we are connected to every other thing, how we have our own ecological niche as Caretakers, and our own special adaptations of curiosity and love. I want to write about how the ecosystem needs us to participate in it, not to cut ourselves off from it, and how our powerful influence on ecosystems can be for good or for bad. We are not a disease. We are a Keystone Species.
I want to discourage this Euro-centric idea that sees humans as separate, and recommend more reading from indigenous points of view that understands ecosystems better and sees humans as participants in nature, engaging in a reciprocal symbiotic relationship. I want to speak against all this talk about removing humans from half of the Earth or reducing the human population, and show other people that despair and fear make you paralyzed and powerless, but hope is powerful.
The most important and powerful thing you can do for your ecosystem is to love it. It is necessary to have hope for the future—to learn to imagine a future of restoration and renewal, and to build community with other people working toward that future.
If we don't imagine a future for our ecosystems, imagine them boldly and audaciously in ways that feel crazy and impossible, those futures will not happen. But just the act of saying, "This WILL happen. We WILL be okay." gives you the strength and energy to fight and it gives you the creativity to come up with solutions you never could have thought of before.
And I feel I have to explain, how did I end up listening to plants? And how did the teachings become so important that I had to write about them? There's this black, swallowing abyss underpinning all of who I am, some intimation of a reality so terrible the human spirit breaks beneath it. I had a mental health crisis back in 2021 where I was pulled deep into that abyss, and when I started rescuing little plants and caring for them, I was basically re-learning how to be human.
I feel like I was seeking answers to "How am I supposed to live in this world?" in the natural world because the human world of poetry and books and articles and think-pieces had utterly failed me in that regard. I had taken multiple poetry classes where I had read all the best contemporary poems, and all the poets just wrote flat, plodding, blunt descriptions of their trauma and despair. Nothing is wrong with these topics, but the worst part was how these authors didn't even take themselves seriously; they had to be detached and ironic about their own pain, like a snarky dystopian novel hero who jokes casually about the horrific reality they live in so the reader knows that this reality is normal and unremarkable to them—and even more importantly, that the hero is ironic and cool instead of responding in a vulnerable, human way.
And speaking of dystopian novels...there were a lot of those! It was like all the visions of the future I had read were dystopian. Even I had been writing a dystopian novel. But I realized that I wasn't wise enough to tell that story yet. I didn't know why at first. But then, as I was reading everything people were writing about climate change, I began to realize.
I saw a lot of patterns between the way people wrote about climate change and the tendencies of self-harm and self-defeat that gnawed inside me. Suicide was something that I had never struggled against, but I understood that suicide was only the most striking manifestation of a self-annihilating way. Sometimes you feel like by hurting yourself, you are being transgressive, exercising autonomy against an absolute, crushing reality. It doesn't have to be physical hurt; it can just be deciding no one will like you and denying yourself love, or thinking "Well, there's no use hoping for anything good to happen."
This is how people talk about climate change. They fantasize about extreme, horrific scenarios and talk as if the Earth is already dead and destroyed, and they talk about humans hatefully and as if they were a disease, and then congratulate themselves for seeing how bad it REALLY is instead of being in denial. It is easy for people to get attached to this and even get mad when someone suggests there might be hope, simply because self-harm can be very psychologically reinforcing.
It is common to call these responses "climate grief." But as I came into this very simple and quiet yet profound encounter with Nature, she had an answer to this philosophy that was perfectly gentle and placid and yet caustic enough to strip paint:
"HOW CAN YOU WISH FOR THE STRENGTH TO GRIEVE THE EARTH, WHEN YOU WERE NEVER STRONG ENOUGH TO LOVE IT?"
I realized, with a breaking heart, that I had always hated and resented my back yard and my home town, because it was an ugly place that seemed to me "Already destroyed," and my soul ached for woods and wilderness.
It had taken me 20 years to fully admit my love of nature, because I felt like there was no point in acting upon it—everything would get destroyed anyway.
I had not been brave enough to love the woods across the road, the creeks and the hills, because they were so fragile in a world that didn't respect them, they could be destroyed by some housing development at any time. So I just accepted that it was already a lost cause.
But it was time to be brave enough—not to accept despair, but to choose hope.
To grow up, first we had to become strong and get rid of silly beliefs like hope and fairness and love. But now, we have to become even stronger and start believing in those things again.
307 notes
·
View notes
Text
Between You And Me (P.t 1)
Pairing: Simon Riley x Nurse!Fem!Reader
Summary: You're in a secret relationship with Ghost, no one knows but with that comes problems. When one guy starts to get the hint that you're single. He finds out the only way to get you all by himself is to slowly hide in the shadows waiting for the perfect time.
Warning: War, unwanted/nonconsensual , secret relationship, touching, ANGST, grinding, reader is groped, TW SH (SEXUAL HARASSMENT), swearing, injuries and bloody wounds
A/N: 11 Days since my last post. Sorry for my in and out absents, idk why I'm not as committed as I use to be. But here's the Simon Riley fic everyone voted on!! (Part 2)
Taglist: @lauraliisa, @mxtokko, @jemandderkeinenusernamenfindet, @ghostshotwife420, @snortangeldust, @thychuvaluswife, @quesowakanda, @goodsoup03, @cielobgers, @andy-unu-03, @sididakra-jo, @nocti1s, @luvfromkat, @lily-ilo, @iwmtfm, @elentiyaiswriting, @berryjuicyy, @crazyfandomist, @aqxz, @yaaamadaa-blog, @itsquinoa, @tomhollandisabae, @wivwer, @old-red-owl, theverycelestialgemini, leopardfang15, @iwmtfm
The smell of foul metal floated around the room, and the suddenly rich, thick blood decorated your hands. The metal dish dinged sharply as you dropped the final piece of glass down. Finally, straightening your back upwards to now look out the closed wound. Which was a horrific scene before. Only know it's been wiped down with alcohol and sown up with a neat row of stitches.
"All done." You happily said, relieved that you could now open a window when this guy left. The blood smell was getting to you. So gradually and carefully you began picking up your equipment, putting all the soaked bloody cotton balls on the metal dish. But you suddenly stoped when the sensation of a cold hand came out to grab you.
"Sorry, sweets. Just need a bit of help getting to the door" He smiled 'innocently' but you nodded in return. Ignoring and swallowing the sudden gut rench feeling you got as you let him grab hold of your whole arm. His fingers traced up and down your skin, as he gripped on tight, you kept silent as much as you wanted to scream and you quickly lead him to the door.
The sound of the door creaking open echoed through the barracks, mixing in with the sound of talking from down the hallway. You quickly smiled before beginning to turn away, only to be grabbed again. Fucking hell- "Thanks toots for the patch up" Smiling you said nothing in return, only trying to avert your gaze from his lustful eyes. His mouth practically breathed down your neck as you slowly pulled out of his reach. Finally shutting the door.
And you thought that was it... but you were wrong.
It started out as little there to their moments where he'd pop out of nowhere right as you were alone. When you were on break, signing off papers in your office, watching TV or simply going to the bathroom. You'd leave the room to smell his thick foul and unpleasant cologne reeking into your nose, his slipped-back hair as he lazily leaned on the wall. Complimenting you from your skin to your body.
And not to mention that one time he 'accidentally' touched your butt...
♡ ♡ ♡
You quietly hummed out a quiet tune, your eyes watching in awe every time as the coffee machine worked like magic. The particularly strong and good coffee slipped out from the machine nozzle, filling up the two cups only reserved for you and Simon.
His cup was white and plain, nothing that would tell anyone else that it could be their cup only the white insides of the cup were stained with the brown liquid. The stains that told everyone whoever was drinking from this cup liked it strong and black, no sugar or milk.
Only your cup was always lined up against the cabinet, side to side they weren't separated. Even in the dishwasher, they never threatened to separate. The seemingly bland white cup was always next to the paw-printed ceramic mug, dots of dog paws was something that showed everyone it was yours.
"For me?" You turned around suddenly, expecting to see Ghost already waiting to grab his cup even though you told him you'd get it for him. Only it was the same guy who'd been bugging you since day one. "No, it's for Ghost." You stood your ground, turning around as you showed no interest in him being there.
The sound of his footsteps crept closer behind you, the deliberately terrifying thumps of his boots made every hair on your body stand up. He reached higher to swing open the mug cabinet above you, purposely grinding the front of his pants against your butt.
The sudden movement shook you to your core as you quickly pulled away from the machine. Stopping the waterfall of coffee pouring earlier as you quickly took both mugs in your hands. Ignoring the burning sensation and forgetting to put your milk and sugar in.
♡ ♡ ♡
Ghost caught onto fast to your sudden nervousness fast. When you returned with his coffee in a rush, nearly tripping over as you made it to his desk. He was surprised to see how red beating your hands were, the imprint of your mistake lead him to wonder what made you run so fast. Though the whole time you said nothing, lying about how you forgot you had a meeting soon. Excusing yourself before leaving early too, Ghost stood there with a mug that only grew cold.
Not only that but after dark, he'd secretly sneak into your office to get close and hold hands under the only light you flicked on as he whispered sweet praises into your ear. Before you were constantly complaining about happening to leave early (it was midnight) as Simon ushered you out.
Now you hold onto his warm figure, his huge arms cage you into his embrace harder as you struggle to say goodbye. By the end of the night, he'd be the one to escort you back to your room, all the way until he made sure you were locked and safe. No matter how many times his rough accent softly demanded you tell him what was bothering you, you didn't say anything.
♡ ♡ ♡
"I'll be fine" You shush him, your finger coming up to sew his lips shut as he quietly chuckled. He stood tall and relaxed, the only time today when he can truly let go of his tense muscles. Your soft touch brings him back to the present as you press a quick final goodnight kiss to his cheek. Giggling when the heat instantly rose to his face, his lovesick eyes never wanted to leave you but sadly he watched you turn away.
You seemed to quicken your paste when you shut the door, as much as you reassured Simon you were okay you weren't. Feeling like you were being watched it was past midnight and the barracks fell deathly silent. Not a whisper of someone talking or the sound of someone snoring on the couch as an ad played. Only your footsteps quickened down the hall, twisting around every corner the sound of swift heavy boots followed quickly behind.
#simon ‘ghost’ riley#ghost simon riley#simon ghost riley#simon riley#simon riley imagine#ghost call of duty#ghost cod#ghost mw2#mw2 x reader#mw2 fanfic#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#simon riley x y/n#simon riley x s/o#cod mw2#simon ghost riley x reader#ghost riley x reader#ghost riley imagine#ghost riley x you#ghost riley
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
Admirer · C.B.
Summary: you are in a argument with your boyfriend and receive a little gift.But as you were about to thanks him he gets even more mad… that’s when you realized it wasn’t from him.
Pairing: Coby brock x Fem OC
warning?: argument and rude things.
Author note: i saw that story on TikTok and it inspired me so just know that it is not 100% MY story <3 (Also English is not my first language so sorry if that doesn’t make much sense)
REQUEST ARE OPEN (no smut tho)
*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ
Kyle was being a jerk. Again. Before, Kyle was the best thing you could imagine,Caring and thoughtful , everything you could dream of, but in the last few months Kyle had become cold, distant and even mean. He got a lot of messages from girls you thought were prettier than you, and it made you uncomfortable to know that he was replying to all of them, His excuse? "They're not doing anything wrong, it's thanks to them that I'm where I am, I have to answer them." Before the buzz, Kyle used to post you on his account from time to time, whether in stories, posts, etc... But now it was a whole different thing. It's like he was hiding you almost ashamed to have a girlfriend.
"Why don't you take me out on dates?" You yelled, "Or even give me nice flowers like you used to?!"
Kyle started laughing in your face.
"Do you hear what you're saying? This isn't a fantasy. We're dating now, I don't have to do all that anymore!"
You couldn't believe it. "I don't have to," like he's doing it out of obligation...the tears you've been holding back since the beginning of this argument finally roll down your cheeks, so you go to your room to gather a few things before you leave the apartment to join your friend Katrina. As you leave, Kyle doesn't even look at you, too busy talking to his "fans" on the live he just started. When you arrive, Kat is with her boyfriend Sam and his best friend Colby, you knew them since high school and you even had a thing with Colby at that time, so it was okay to let them hear everything so you explained everything to her and the guys probably heard you but you couldn’t care less... After a long evening and a relaxing night you came to the conclusion that you had to break up with him. The next morning you leave them hugging her and waving to the guys then drive to your apartment.
When you arrive, you see that flowers have been delivered to your door, along with a small box of chocolates, so you smile, happy that Kyle finally understood what you were talking about. You unlock the door and put the flowers and chocolate on the counter while you look for a vase in the closet. Kyle wakes up,enters the kitchen and stands there without saying a word. You turn around smiling and just as you are about to thank him, he cuts you off.
"What the hell is that?" He looked between you and the flowers, extremely confused. And now it's your turn to be confused. "What do you mean? Didn't you buy these?” And instead of talking, he aggressively picks up a piece of paper that was in the flowers, tearing off a petal, and reads the note aloud.
"He's right, real life isn't a fantasy, but you can make it one, if you were my girl I'd take you out on dates and buy you flowers every chance I get. Leave your shitty boyfriend, he doesn't deserve you. You know I'll make you happy. Lots of love.C."
You smile. You obviously knew who it was. And Kyle saw that. "WHO THE HELL IS C?!"
#colby brock#colby brock x fem reader#sam and colby#fanfic#fanfiction#colby brock imagine#colby x reader#xplr#xplr club#oneshot#sam and colby x reader#katrina stuart#katrina stuart x reader#Spotify
305 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
pinkypinkbb-blog
月刊淫故小小女作家
clothingbitch
cute clothes
jacq-n
Poetic Nonsense
grupobookhunters
BookHunters
coolinaria
COOLINARIA