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lighteyed · 10 months

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can it be easy this once? / steve harrington

summary: steve accidentally gives a stupid answer to your honest question. (best friends with benefits pining idiots to lovers, fem!reader)

unedited we die like men & title from the alcott by the national ft taylor swift hehehe enjoy

It started as a means of comfort after Starcourt, when he was bloody and bruised up but you took him home and got closer, closer, closer, until it turned into a mess of blurred lines and panting breaths, lips swollen for reasons other than being hurt, for better reasons, reasons that brought forth safety and relief for the two of you. You both tend to hunger for such things. It’d been good, easy, for a bit there. Lately it’d felt like the intimacy was threatening to choke you. Like you’d never met a form of closeness you didn’t cling to. And God, did it feel like you were clinging. Craving an unwarranted change. Was it so unwarranted? You weren’t sure, you could never tell.

The air in his room is hot and sticky with summer, the ceiling fan providing the barest relief, your bare skin providing the slightest bit more. You stare all around his room, taking in all the stark traces of him, though in truth it doesn’t betray much, just as he attempts to. It’s a plain room, plaid walls, matching curtains, his desk messy and cluttered, all the dresser’s drawers slightly ajar like he spent a touch too long shuffling through all his clothes to determine which outfit would be best, which, knowing him in the way you do, he probably did. You knew he wasn’t as secure as he liked everyone to believe. Steve Harrington tried his best, but sometimes you saw right through him.

Other times he was harder to read. It was probably purposeful, layers of protection built around himself. Don’t love anyone, don’t let anyone love you, and you won’t get hurt. People can only hurt you if you let them. Steve wasn’t letting anyone anymore. Definitely not his parents, definitely not Nancy Wheeler, definitely not random girls who would inevitably end up disappointed with him. He swore it all off. He was a hopeless romantic who never wanted to be in love again. You understood it for the most part. Or you attempted to. It was hard when you were halfway (maybe more than halfway) in love with the guy, in his bed most nights, in his company most days, acting like a couple without being an established couple because he was too hesitant and you were too gentle to be pushy.

He nudges you lightly, naked chest peeking up from his covers, naked everything else kept firmly underneath. “You okay? You’re quiet.” He sits up so he’s level with you, and you avoid eye contact by leaning down toward the floor to grasp for the shirt he let you borrow, a faded Spider-Man one he insisted was from middle school. You didn’t entirely believe him, but maybe it was just funny, and kind of sweet, to picture Steve sleeping in a Spider-Man shirt and keeping it a secret just for himself. You pull the shirt on over your head, and before you can do it for yourself, he reaches for your hair and takes it out from where it’s caught under the shirt. The familiarity of it makes you flinch. You can have sex with him all you want but God forbid he’s the slightest bit loving outside of that. It confuses you, the softness in the touches that aren’t in bed with him. If he holds your hand in any context other than bringing you as into him as possible while he slips himself in and out, you lose all sense of normalcy between the two of you. You can’t be normal when he’s holding your hand and stroking your cheeks and being kind, soft, adoring Steve, without being your Steve.

“I’m fine, I’m just…” You reach for your shorts at the end of the bed. Steve watches you get dressed with his eyebrows scrunched together, confused. You’re not usually in a rush to leave after you have sex. Not that he wants you to. He likes that you stay until day sinks into night and he drives you home and waits to repeat it all again. Waits to see you, generally. And it’s not sex every single time. You drag him to see whatever’s playing at the Hawk and he makes you sit with him at Family Video on slow days when it’s just him on the clock and a single tumbleweed blows through the store instead of any customers. He drives you just about anywhere you ask and he lets you put on any cassettes you want in his car even if he hates what’s playing. It’s nice, the friendship part of all of it. If you had to give everything else up and just keep the friendship you’d be willing. He’d be willing. You consider it. “Nothing, just tired, probably gonna head home,” you smile at him over your shoulder before pulling on your socks and it’s half-hearted and he knows it.

“What? You can sleep here, you know that,” he waves a hand around the room, trying to catch your gaze, but you avoid his eyes again. Descending light slants in through the curtains and envelopes him in gold. He glows, he’s so pretty. His hair is messy from where you heatedly ran your hands through it, but it still looks nearly perfect. The fact that he always looks so good infuriates you.

“No yeah, I know, I wanna like shower and stuff too, and I left my new book at home and I wanted to do some reading,” you bluff calmly, standing up from tangled bedsheets and roaming the room in search of your sneakers.

“That Stephen King scary clown book? I’ll take you home and you can come back and read it here, so you don’t get scared,” and he knows you won’t get scared and that you love horror far more than he ever could but he just really, really doesn’t want to be alone. Why would you go when everything’s right here? His parents aren’t home and something about you leaving makes him antsy and desperate. When you still refuse to look at him he feels himself, his confidence, growing smaller and smaller. “Did I- did I do something?” He doesn’t mean for it to sound as pathetic as it does.

You whip around to face him, finally, finally, and touch a hand to his face. Relief floods through him at the heat of your fingers. “No, of course not, it’s all me, okay? I’m all sweaty and awful.”

“You look beautiful, I swear,” he squeezes your hand and you feel like you’re drowning. It’s hard to breathe, your chest tight. “Are you sure you’re okay? You can talk to me, it’s me.” He scoots closer, if that’s possible. “You’re one of my best friends, we tell each other everything.” You look up toward the ceiling, inwardly groaning. Best friend.

“You do this with all your best friends?”

“Well, no, Robin wouldn’t touch me even if she didn’t like girls-“ He feels himself starting to grin, teasing smile lilting at his lips.

“Steve!” You’re laughing a little and so is he as you push his arm back. “You know that’s not what I meant.”

“What’d you mean, then?” He’s still smiling, that entrancing, deliberately pouty, lazy smile. Vaguely smirky. You don’t know if it’s deliberate, a ploy to distract you, con you into staying, make you less prone to saying what you want to say, but you press anyway, even though he’s making you want to lean forward and endlessly kiss the smirk off his mouth.

“I just think, I don’t know… you’re not seeing anyone else, right?”

“’Course not, why, you got other plans after this?” He grins again. You roll your eyes. He makes it so hard sometimes.

“Steve,” you whine, “I’m so serious right now.”

“Okay, okay. No, you’re the only one for me.” He means it. It’s the worst thing you’ve ever heard. “Are you seeing anyone else?” He asks you like it’s the easiest question in the world for him to ask but honestly he’s shitting his pants a little. He’s not sure what’d he say if you said yes, I am, and I think we should end this, which is where he’s assuming the conversation is going. You’ve got we shouldn’t do this anymore written all over you in his eyes and he’s steeling himself for the heartbreak.

“Does it look like I am?”

“Does it look like I am?” He repeats back, and he reaches for your hand in that too intimate way of his, takes it all careful and slow. “What’s this about?”

“I just, I just think, that, you know, I’m not seeing anyone, and you’re not seeing anyone, but we’re sorta… seeing each other, yeah?” You gesture between the two of you. He nods. He’s staring at you very intensely, waiting for you to get your words out. He’s still waiting for you to say you think this whole thing has been a very bad mistake, a miscalculated judgement on your part, you should go back to the way things were, so he’s not expecting what comes out of you next. “Shouldn’t we be, like, official, then?”

And instead of throwing up all the ways he so badly would love for that to happen, he chokes out, because he’s stupid and speechless, “Official?” And the way he says it, like it’s a curse when it’s only his disbelief that you’d want that with him after all this time, makes you immediately go into panic mode.

He quite literally sees the way you lose any sense of confidence in your question and he immediately tries to take it back as you stand from his side and start trying to force your words back in your mouth, too. “Fuck, forget I said anything,” you mumble, spying your shoes shoved under his desk where you’d comfortably kicked them off. You hasten to put them on as Steve scrambles up from the bed and starts dressing, matching your frantic speed.

“Hey, wait, that’s not what I- I didn’t mean it like that-“

“It’s fine, Steve, I get it, I totally do, this isn’t that for you, it’s fine-“

“It is, it is-“ but you’re not hearing him, your mind is already elsewhere. It’s in your own bed in the quiet, alone with your thoughts and not with him, mercifully not with him. You need this one mercy, “I’ll drive you home, babe, c’mon, I’ll explain everything, please-“

“I got it, it’s fine, I’m fine, you don’t have to explain, okay? I got it,” and you don’t just walk out of his house and down the block to yours, you absolutely flee. You take Steve’s heart with you.

He’s pacing the floor behind the register at Family Video three days and three shifts later, practically clawing at the walls of the place, and Robin is pulling her hair out at the sight of him in distress this way.

“What did you do?” She finally breaks, flipping her magazine shut.

“What? How do you know it was me?” He stops pacing. He hadn’t even noticed he was doing it.

“You’ve had three shifts and she hasn’t visited one single time. She always visits. And I know I didn’t do anything wrong, because I never do anything wrong, so, what’d you do?” Robin places her hand under his chin and stares at him expectantly.

He huffs, his hands on hips. “Maybe she did something, Robin, did you ever think of that?”

“Definitely not,” Robin retorts, waiting for Steve to be serious.

He deflates. “Okay, it was me.”

“I know that, now continue.”

“We were, you know,” he tilts his head down and raises his eyebrows and widens his eyes.

“Having sex, sure,” Robin bobs her head. A customer in the nearest aisle frowns and shuffles toward a different section further away from the two of them.

Steve shushes her. “I wasn’t trying to say it so loud.”

“Having sex,” Robin repeats, louder this time, not bothering to fight back a laugh at Steve’s exasperated expression, “continue.”

“Well, after that, she started asking if, if I was seeing anyone, which of course I’m not, because, you know, I’m into her, obviously, so I told her I wasn’t, and she said she wasn’t, so she said maybe we should be official.” Steve hesitates to say the rest of what happened. He still can’t believe all he could do when you said the words was repeat them back to you with that stupid look on his face instead of giving you the biggest, loudest declaration of love in a big, messy, pathetic, devoted way, the way he pictures himself when it comes to you, messy and pathetic and devoted, and he replays that moment back to himself all day long, thinking of everything else he could’ve said to make you understand.

“That’s what you want, isn’t it? She’s all you talk about all day long, you want to be with her, don’t you?”

“Of course I do!” He snaps, dragging a hand across his face. “But when she said it I just couldn’t get the words out and she got, she got so sad and she left without me being able to explain anything and she hasn’t answered the phone which, yes, I’ve been calling, and I don’t know how to do this.” He’d never been good at school but he knew he’d get a Grade A in Pitiful.

“Do what? Tell a girl you love her? You’ve been in relationships before, Steve.”

“I know, but…” he sighs. “I’m different now, like, it’s not as easy anymore, for me, and I- I don’t want her to get hurt, and I don’t want to get hurt, it’s like, everything used to be my fault, and I wasn’t as good as I could have been, and I don’t want to break anything, I don’t want it to get fucked up, because it’ll be my fault, and I can’t do that again. Not to her.” He swallows, the words harder to come by than he would care to admit. “I’m a little… I’m a little in love with her, I think.” This is said quietly. It frightens him to say it out loud. He’s gone over it in his head, those words, so few of them, but they say so much, and it’s scary. He hasn’t said them to someone in years. The last time he did he got so brutally hurt he thought he’d never recover. But he had. So why was it still so scary?

“A little bit?” Robin teases, but it’s all love for him, truly.

“Alright, a lot in love,” he concedes. He wants to get used to saying it. He wants to say it to you. For real. Loudly. “I still don’t know how to do this, though. Not anymore.”

“Come on!” Robin gets up from her stool and places her hands on his shoulders. “You’re supposed to be Steve Harrington. You were using those…” she pauses for a beat and then, “charms,” the word is said with the smallest hint of sarcasm but she persists nonetheless, “on tons of girls in high school and at Scoops! Now whip them out again for our very nice friend that you sometimes go to town with!”

“When did any of those charms,” he says it with a matching sarcastic tone, “work aside from when I was sixteen and an idiot?”

“You might not be sixteen anymore but you’re still an idiot, if that helps.”

“It doesn’t but thank you for the encouragement.”

“I’m just saying!” She exclaims, throwing her hands up and returning back to her seat. “Putting yourself out there is always gonna be scary, but you can’t let that stop you. You’d actually be an idiot if you let that stop you. Are you just never gonna see her again? No, because you’d go insane. It’s not like what you did was all that bad anyway.”

“You really think so?” He perks up a bit, needing that confirmation that he isn’t a totally awful and irredeemable person. It’s easy for him to fall headfirst into that spiral of thinking. It was a trap set with the most accessible, perfect bait and he somehow always found himself walking straight into it without stopping to think if he was being fair to himself.

“You’ve both been in bad spots, you reacted the way you did and she reacted the way she did out of what was most likely panic and embarrassment. She’s definitely not even mad at you. Probably just, again, embarrassed. If you explain I think it’ll all be okay, Steve, I swear.” Robin can’t take much more of this conversation circling around, as much as she loves Steve and wants to be there for him, she would love him even more if he acted on his feelings and allowed himself some happiness for once. “So do you think you can you, like, maybe go tell her so she can keep visiting us at work? I need more company than just you and Keith and these customers with no taste,” she complains, glaring at the closed door that hides Keith, in all his absolute glory. The customer from before hears her comment and storms out. Robin rolls her eyes.

“Right, yeah, tell her I love her, tell my best friend I love her,” he frowns, nerves creeping up the back of his neck. “Maybe you could just call her first and ask-“

“Steve! I am not meddling in your love life like that when you already know everything there is to know!” She throws her magazine at him. “She said she wants to be with you, go be with her!”

“Alright, alright!” He waves his hands dismissively. He begins to pace again, this time his eyes held to the clock. Robin groans. There’s still three hours left of their shift.

You’re in your room wallowing, or doing what’d you call attempting not to wallow but failing at it miserably. You haven’t touched a single page of your book, mostly content to just listen to sad records and more or less stare at the wall. It was stupid, you knew, to behave in such a way over some guy. But it didn’t feel like some guy. It was Steve, after all. It all felt deeper than just some guy. You two had been through a lot together, more than most people have been, and if you’d just ruined your friendship with someone you always felt safe, felt at home with, over feelings you couldn’t control and probably would be better off not having, you were going to need some serious therapy.

It probably was silly of the two of you to start this thing up anyway, you reason, fighting back your urge to do any further crying into a pillow. You try to focus on painting your nails a nice shade of dark blue but it reminds you of Steve’s old Scoops uniform and of that night (and all that nights that followed) so you stop in the middle of your second thumb and grab nail polish remover and start scrubbing away at your finished right hand.

“Fuckin’ ridiculous,” you mutter, the cotton ball in your hand soaked through with blue and your nails discolored and muddy. “I am ridiculous,” you say to yourself, shaking off your wet hand. Your room is filled with the smell of acetone and disappointment. You think about lighting a candle when your doorbell rings. You debate answering it before it rings again. And then again. And again, more frenzied this time.

You open the door to a distressed Steve. His cheeks are red and he’s breathing like he can’t anymore. He’s not the multi-star athlete he was in high school, he realizes in this moment. “Did you- did you just run here from work?” You ask him, but he’s already too close to you, not answering your question, gazing at you because simply looking isn’t enough and has never been enough. He is gazing. He is flush with adoration. It’s hard not to bloom under that radiance. He makes you want to forget everything and go back to plush lips on hot skin and the quiet contentment that came alongside being with him in those first few months. You back up a little into your doorway but he steps up to you, following your steps. “Where’s your car-“

“Forget that for a sec,” he says, and you stop talking out of surprise. “Just, just tell me if we do this it’ll be okay, and we won’t be terrible for each other, and we’ll be good,” because he needs to hear it, even if it’s ridiculous and he’s jinxing it before it’s begun he needs to know you’re right there with him. “Like, just tell me it can be easy this once. If you broke my heart I don’t know if I’d be able to handle it. ‘Cause I love you. I do. And I want this.” And you get it. He’s letting you get it. He’s letting you all the way in. You realize, flustered and basking in it, that he’s the first one to say those words. That you hadn’t even said them when you posed your first question. But he’s saying them out loud and it’s brilliant and beautiful. He is beautiful.

It makes you want to weep, the love that swells here, out in the open. “Fuck, Steve, what type of girl do you think I am, breaking the heart of the guy I’ve been in love with since he started sneaking into my bedroom?” He smiles. He glows. It’s so beautifully Steve. Maybe it can be easy.

When he kisses you, he proves it: the ease, the tranquility. He is fervent and burning. Everything is urgent with Steve. Especially kissing. He captures every bit of you immediately. His touch is light when he urges you out of your doorway and into your living room so he can shut your front door and quit giving the neighbors what he’s sure is the show of a lifetime. It is for him, at least.

#IM JUST GONNA POST THIS NOW BECAUSE I WANTED TO WRITE SMUT BUT I KEEP DELETING IT AND IF I DONT JUST POST AS IS IM GONNA END UP NEVER POSTIN #i feel like the ending is rushed but otherwise i did enjoy writing this immensely!#love you guys<3333 #i will write smut one day but not today i guess! i’m literally at work rn too soo #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington fanfic #steve x reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington one shot #stranger things x reader #stranger things

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crybaby-bkg · 1 year

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Trainer Bakugou who you're a little terrified of the first day you're paired with him. when asking for a trainer at the gym, you had expected the friendly redhead who always looked so sweet and encouraging and cut as hell. you weren't expecting his grumpy looking blond counterpart, who was all glares and shouts for his clients to keep pushing themselves.

you were hesitant at first, before you quickly realized that it was all a ruse, for the most part. he pushed those who needed that extra encouragement, but was more lenient to people like you who simply wanted a professionals guidance. so, after a few weeks, you liked him for the most part, and his looks damn sure made it easier to cozy up to the big guy.

the only issue you've been having with Bakugou though are the...coregasms, as you've seen them been named on social media, that you keep experiencing. the first time, you weren't sure what it was, why your stomach and pelvis kept tightening up. you couldn't have...climaxed, or anything. you hadn't even been touched!

but, as the weeks go by, and the workouts get more strenuous, they've become harder and harder to subside and ignore, and so had Bakugou's commands to keep going when you suddenly stopped. you can only lie and say its cramps so many times before he realizes that something is up.

you're midway through a good morning, when that familiar feeling starts tightening in the pit of your gut. you clench your eyes shut, shaking your head a little, as if you could ward off the impending feeling. bakugou notices though, frowning at your almost pained expression in the mirror, walking up behind you to stop you as you pull yourself back up. his hands are on your waist, and as you come up, you feel his bulge glide over the curve of your ass, and something in you snaps.

you gasp, buckling over, one hand on your knee as the other reaches back for bakugou's hand to keep you up as your thighs shake. you can feel yourself spasming, clenching and unclenching around nothing, secretly wishing you had something that could fill you up, something that you felt throb against you as bakugou leaned over your form.

"Another coregasm, huh?" he asks you lowly, his lips brushing your ear as you bite your bottom lip to hold back your moan. your eyes buck open though, when his words sink in, head tipping back to look at him in the mirror, only to find his gaze already on you.

"You knew every time?" you ask quietly, panting now that its finally starting to pass over you. but bakugou doesn't let you up from this position, especially since the area you're in seems to be desolate for now.

"It's hard to ignore how pretty you look when you cum, sweetheart." Bakugou seals his words with a firm press to your ass, his cock rubbing the seam, and you can practically feel the heat and veins of it through your thin bottoms. you groan under your breath, getting lost in the feeling of him grinding against you, when he suddenly speaks again.

"You still feel it?" he asks, voice low as he looks at you through his lashes. you nod, biting at your bottom lip as you meet the steady rock of his hips, watching how he smiles before slotting his lips against your ear.

"Want me to help make it go away?" and he does, in the employee locker room after hours. he makes it go away, and rebuild, and go away again and again until you're hoarse and your legs are weaker than they typically are on leg day. bakugou helps the ache go away, but not for that sweet redheaded coworker of his, whose fists have fucked his cock the entire time of watching bakugou rail you over the locker room bench again and again.

#remember when I said in my lion bkg tags that I would write that long fic #sorry but I lied 😔#idk its been so hard to write long fics for me lately!!#I thought it would be better since the brunt of everything in my life has passed #but the creative energy isn't all the way there yet #so I won't rush the process of it!!! when I let it come to me I typically bang out like #3-5 fics in two weeks lol so im waiting for that feeling #but anyway!!! I love trainer character aus they're so seggsy #also I had to throw in eiji sorry what else could I have done #NOT put him in this somehow???? I don't think so #okay bye im gonna write another Drabble ive had in my drafts for a few weeks now LOL #—new treat in the streets! 🍫#bakugou treats! 🍬#also has anyone ever actually experienced a coregasm before??? I saw it on insta and was amazed LOL #I need to start working on my core more to get one lol if im LUCKY

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thesunisatangerine · 8 months

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against all odds (to wait for you is all i can do) – part three

alexia putellas x photojournalist!reader

warnings: explicit sexual content

(a/n in the tags) [parts: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve]

word count: 3.4k

You woke again nearing midday and, as expected, Ale was nowhere to be found. If it weren’t for the still sensitive marks that she left on your neck and the soreness between your thighs, you would’ve thought it was all a pleasant dream. Something on your nightstand caught your eye as you stretched and when you picked it up, all the remaining doubt shattered.

On the piece of paper was a phone number with a little note that said ‘text me?’ and you couldn’t help the grin that made its way to your lips at the drawn smiley face at the end of it. You picked your phone up, added her to your contacts and sent her a hello-it’s-me text, noted the notification of an email from Derek, and then you got out of bed to get ready for the day.

When you returned to the bedroom from your shower, a message from Ale was waiting for you.

‘Hey, good morning! Listen, as much as I’d love to… have fun with you again, I can’t see you the next few days.’

You laughed at the varying degrees of sad emojis that superseded her text. Then you messaged her back.

‘That’s fine. Just text me when you’re free. And you already know where I am so…’

You abandoned your phone after that in favor of your laptop as you remembered Derek’s email. Upon opening your mail, you found it immediately.

‘Good news. Robert sealed a deal with a client and they want you to follow FC Barcelona in their Liga F campaign this season. We got 5 match passes so far–Robert believes that the client might be inclined to commission for more photos depending on how the club progresses throughout the season.

Find the passes in the attachment as well as the in-depth commission details but in short, apart from the customary team photos, they want photos of the following players prioritised in order: Alexia Putellas, Maria ‘Mapi’ Leon, and Caroline Graham Hansen. I’ll leave the research to you.

On an informal note, the window to decline is still open. As previously discussed, you don’t have to do this. Let me know what you decide as soon as possible.’

You checked the attached files and sure enough, you found the passes for Barcelona’s matches against the following clubs: Real Madrid, Roma, Alhama, Atletico Madrid, and Sporting Huelva. You noted the date for the one against Real Madrid–it was in a couple of days, the same one Ale suggested and a thrill of excitement went down your spine at the thought of possibly seeing her again. Maybe you should message her to let her know that you were going.

You sent a confirmation to Derek before you created a new tab to begin your research. ‘Alexia Putellas’, you typed and hit enter. When the results came back, you stilled.

You blinked.

Then you blinked again.

Of all the places you’d expect to find Ale’s face, a search result about a professional football player was the last thing you could think of. But memories flashed unbidden through your mind: the exclusive night club, Ale’s vague answer about her job, the way her eyes shone whenever you mentioned sports or football, her reflexes, her physique, Ale… Alexia–it all made sense now.

Groaning, you put your face in your hands as your cheeks and ears burnt from the embarrassment that flooded your veins. Oh, how dense could you get! She must’d thought you ignorant for not knowing who she was. Foolish!

But then again… if she didn’t get a kick out of you not knowing, why did she allow the second time to happen? And why promise a third? The thought calmed you down enough to decide not to text Ale–no, Alexia–about this like you’d originally planned especially since you were most likely going to see her at the game anyway.

After another moment to regain your composure for the time being, you proceeded with your research. You clicked on an article, and an article lead to another, which carried you over to a video, and so on. By the end of it, evening had settled and you only managed to discover little. But from what you found out, there was no question to Alexia Putellas’ nascent legacy, both on and off the pitch–an undisputed, modern trailblazer for current and new generations of female athletes. You were gutted to know about her ACL injury though–a quick deviated search made it known to you how serious of an injury it was, especially for an athletic career–and you wondered when she would be able to play again or if she would be playing in the match against Real Madrid. After all, she did say she was going to be there.

You wrapped up your research about Alexia then and you finally moved on to Mapi Leon, then Caroline Graham Hansen. Afterwards, you briefed yourself on the rest of Barcelona Femeni’s 1st Division players as well as the rules of football to come up with a strategy to tackle this task.

A mixture of anxiety and excitement rushed through you as you settled in for the night at the thought of seeing Alexia again now that you know about her identity. You didn’t know what you had gotten yourself into the moment you let her take you to the dance floor but the pull was there from the very beginning. And you decided you were going to see this through to the end.

No. This wasn’t going to change anything at all.

–––

There it was: Estadi Johan Cruyff, home to Barcelona Femeni, stood proud in its blue and red glory.

There was still about an hour and a half left before kickoff but already, people had gathered and started to enter the stadium, you being one of them. Security scanned your press pass as you entered and you were told to head through a different corridor which lead you out to the pitch. Once inside, it was no surprise that the stadium’s interior was no less grand than the outside, the well-tended grass was just a taste to the quality that this place had to offer.

Greeting the other photographers who’d settled in earlier as you walked, you searched for a spot and found it by the space adjacent to the corner flag farthest from the tunnel entrance. There, you placed your duffel bag and your portable stool as you worked to set up your equipment: you double-checked the batteries, attached the right lens to your camera, unwounded your monopod and connected it to your camera.

By the time you looked up, there was already a significant crowd awaiting the players for their warm-ups. You took this chance to take a few shots of the still half-filled stadium, tweaking your settings as you did so and you waited for the players to come out.

About an hour before kickoff, you spied movements inside the tunnel and immediately, your eye was to your viewfinder.

Players from both teams emerged from the tunnel and names popped in your head as you scanned the faces from Barcelona, taking shots of them as they stepped foot on the grass and took off in a jog. There was no sign of Alexia though but you spotted two of your marks on the pitch so you wasted no time to frame them in your camera.

A moment later though, you heard a sudden cheer from the crowd followed by a collective flutter of camera shutters. You lifted your eye from the viewfinder, turned your head to the side and saw that your fellow photographers had their cameras focused to the direction of the tunnel entrance. Your heart quickened. Could it be? And sure enough as you looked to the sidelines, you could make out Alexia’s blonde hair and her unmistakable silhouette. Through your camera’s lens you were able to see her better.

Alexia had on a black leather jacket paired with a top that revealed a strip of skin before the cut of her jeans, finishing her look off with a pair sneakers on and loose blonde hair. She was conversing with her coach, bumping fists and patting the backs of players from both teams who went over to greet her. Then she turned to the stands, waved at their supporters, and she moved close enough for pictures and autographs. She gave one last wave to the fans, shouted an encouraging word to her teammates with a fist in the air, before she headed back into the tunnel. While all of this was happening, you’d framed her through your lens yourself, taking the photos you needed, cheeks warm despite the cooling afternoon air.

Then all the Barcelona players jogged over to the sidelines and huddled, side to side, arm in arm. You took a shot. Not long after that, all of them left the pitch.

The game was about to start.

Alexia wasn’t lying when she said the stadium would get crowded: the stands were filled with blues and reds, flags were flown and waved about, chanted anthems resounded loud and proud in the air–the atmosphere was nothing short of electric.

You’d moved by the sideline close to the tunnel entrance for the beginning of the match along with your fellow photographers so you could capture Barcelona’s starting eleven. When the players came out, they were welcomed by singing and cheers from the crowd. And as they stood there, you took photos of the entire team first before you moved on to focus on Mapi and Caroline.

When the whistle blew and the match began, you were back to your original spot, looking to the stands above the tunnel entrance as you tried to pick Alexia out from the sea of faces through your camera. You managed to a few minutes later, and you found her looking rather pensive: one arm crossed over her chest, the other resting on it as she rubbed her chin with her thumb, eyes focused down at the pitch with her brows slightly creased. It looked like longing to you, a burning desire to return home–to start playing football again. The sight evoked such a feeling in you that you couldn’t help but capture the moment. This shot, however, you were going to keep for yourself.

Now that you knew where Alexia was, following the client’s requisites just got a lot easier. Up until the final whistle, you immersed yourself in your work and the game, focusing more on Mapi and Caroline as they were playing. There were times that allowed you to shift your camera to the stands to where Alexia was and took shots of her, too. By the time you knew it, the game ended and Barcelona won 1-0.

You expected a celebration from Barcelona because they were in their turf after all so you loaded up your camera with a freshly charged battery. The next thing you knew, Alexia was there with the team, hugging and patting them congratulations and her teammates beamed at her, happy to see her there.

Click You took a shot.

The players then began their procession around the stadium, waving at and signing things for their supporters. Through your camera, you saw Mapi signing the shirt of a young girl. Click. Next to her was Caroline, reaching over the barrier to sign a ball, smiling as she talked to the boy holding it. Click.

The procession was near enough that you could hear their banters, growing louder as they approached where you were and the beating of your heart thumped as loud as the chants from the crowd. You congratulated the players as they passed and kept your camera away out of respect. You looked at the end of the line and you met Alexia’s gaze. She was smiling at you while she talked to Irene Paredes beside her and she never took her eyes off you. There was a gleam in them, something akin to mischief and… a challenge? If so, why?

At that you raised an unimpressed brow at her, both a question and a statement. Your reaction seemed to amuse her because her smile turned into a full smirk.

The procession passed but Alexia lagged behind, something that didn’t go unnoticed by Irene who threw Alexia a questioning look. You watched as Alexia waved her off before she began walking your way and you didn’t miss the fluttering of shutters from your fellow photographers’ cameras. Some called Alexia’s name to get her attention but she ignored them, her attention only at you. You barely had enough time to school your features and hide any signs of familiarity before she was standing in front of you.

“Hey, you. You made it here after all.” Alexia said cooly, lips slanted in a half-smile, one hand in a jean pocket.

“Yeah, I did. Sorry, but do I know you?” You asked in an excessively dry tone paired with an raised eyebrow, but you made sure your voice was just loud enough for her to hear. Catching your drift, Alexia laughed, rubbing the bridge of her nose to try and cover it up.

“I suppose not,” she extended a hand towards you, “I’m Alexia, and I’m sorry about… you know.”

“Nice to officially meet you, Alexia. Congratulations on the win, by the way.” You shook her hand, ignored the way her warmth seeped into your skin, and hummed. “You know, you remind me of someone I know. Your resemblance to her is uncanny.”

Alexia nodded as she took her hand back, lips quirked. “I think I know who you’re talking about. I think she also wants to know if she could stop by later tonight?”

Your cheeks warmed and you didn’t fight the smile that made its way to your face. “I did tell her she could whenever she’s free.”

“So, yes?”

“Yes.”

———

You braced your weight against the headboard, forehead over your folded arms, eyes barely open and the erotic sight in front of you did nothing to help the building flood in you. With your thighs bracing her head and from this angle, you could only see Alexia’s closed eyes but you felt her hands roaming and supporting your lower back as her mouth and tongue worked on you.

She was taking her sweet time though, brushing her tongue over your clit lightly, sucking just enough to build up the pleasure but nothing too much to bring you over the edge. You whined because she did it again only with more pressure this time, circling your clit a few times before she moved away again. You were starting to learn that she liked to play; she liked to take her time and get as many reactions from you until she was satisfied, until she’d completely unravelled you.

A particularly cruel swipe of her tongue, accompanied by the obscenely wet sound it made, nearly incited a sob from your lips but the plea you made was nothing short of similar.

“Ale… please…” You panted.

“–my name.”

“Huh?” You whined out, not hearing what Alexia said after a flick from her tongue sent shivers down your spine.

“Say my name.”

Then she circled your clit with more urgency after she said that–demanding. You keened and ignored her, canting your hips forward to chase that delicious friction you were desperately searching for.

“Ale… Ale… please!”

Then she stilled completely and you cried out in protest, eyes flying open to meet lidded hazel ones.

“What–”

“Say my name.” She licked your inner thigh deliberately close to where you wanted it the most.

“Alexia, pl–” You didn’t even need to beg because right after her name left your mouth, overwhelming heat was all you could feel as she ate you out earnestly. Her hands gripped your thighs so tight that you wouldn’t be able to pull away–not that you could ever do such a thing.

“Oh, fuck!”

Euphoria tore through your body in concurrent waves with brutal intensity that it ripped the strength from your bones while your muscles shook helplessly. Even the gentle touches from Alexia tongue as she cleaned you up were enough to make you hiss from overstimulation.

God… she really did a number on you this time.

After you finally calmed down, you shifted so that you could lay by Alexia’s side, kissing your way up from the column of her neck to her lips where you found your taste heavy on her tongue. You dragged your fingers from the crest of her hip to her breast, feeling the ridges of her hard-earned muscles as you did so and revelled in the way they tensed beneath your touch, the softness of her breast a beautiful contrast to the firmness of her stomach.

Alexia gasped when you rolled her nipple between your fingers and you gladly swallowed it as you deepened the kiss. You slotted your leg to apply pressure between her thighs, ample wetness coated your skin and you couldn’t help but moan at her arousal.

You nipped a path down between the valley of her breasts but not before you had given both of her nipples the attention they deserved. You continued your journey, licking and nipping at her skin as you moved down her toned stomach.

As soon as you reached her navel, she parted her legs to make space for you. You kissed her inner thighs, loving the way they tensed beneath your lips and as you trailed closer to her core, you flashed your gaze upwards to meet hers. When you finally got the first taste of her tonight, you watched intently through lidded eyes as she closed hers, dropping her head on the pillow and sighed out a long, low moan.

You gave her a few slow and broad strokes, closing your eyes as you savoured her taste. When she began to urge her hips quicker, you picked up your pace all the while mapping her thighs and stomach with your palms.

You found you liked how responsive she was to your touches, liked the way she demanded for more which you gladly gave to her as she asked for them. And when she cradled the back of your head and buried her fingers in your hair so she could meet your tongue the way she wanted it, you moaned loudly, taking from the way she took hers from you.

“Yes, right there, just–” Her back arched and you clung to her hips like a lifeline. You rolled your tongue against her and sucked, not wanting to disrupt the pace of her fall.

And fall, she did.

She came on your tongue and you accepted it with a grateful moan, slowing down your pace as she came back down from her high. It was sticky and heady, a reward that you lapped up eagerly, and from the pleased way Alexia threaded her fingers through your hair, she was satisfied. Like her, you took your time cleaning her up because after all it was only polite to do so and you enjoyed the way her leg muscle tensed when you kissed her clit one last time.

Content with your work, you kissed the top of her left thigh as a form of gratitude but instead of making your way up, you traced the line of muscle that lead down to her knee where scars from her injury had carved themselves permanently into her skin.

You’d kissed those same scars the last time you were together without knowing the story behind them and now that you know, you dragged your lips over them ever more softly, looking Alexia in the eye as you did so. She watched you intently with lips slightly parted, eyes dark and lidded.

Alexia bent forward so she could reach out to you, lifting your chin with a gentle hand. Then she brushed her thumb over your upper lip to wipe the wetness there but before she could pull it away, you parted your lips and took her thumb into you mouth, sucking and licking off the taste there, never taking your eyes off hers.

“My god,” came her breathless murmur before she moaned out, “come here.”

Then she guided you to her mouth with her gentle grip on your chin and before you knew it, you were under her again, sighing in grateful surrender to the mercy of her and her hands. She kissed and ravaged you many times over–and you, her–that by the end of the night, you’d completely forgotten the weight of her name.

#ap11 #not proofread #mine #my writing #a/n: a bit late but i finally finished it omfg #ngl i rushed this so im extra sorry for any grammar and spelling mistakes...#and how do people write smut its so bloody difficult ahhhhhh #hope you guys like this and would love to know what you think about the story so far #just a reminder: im tweaking minor details as i go so the most accurate copy of all the parts will be on my ao3 (@thesunisatangerine)#apologies for any grammar and spelling mistakes ill work on em later #woso x reader #alexia putellas x reader

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hella1975 · 3 months

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a post about fic updates! so the fics im currently juggling are dog teeth, tams, and of course, taob. my original plan was to start posting the second installment of the dog teeth series by sometime in april, bc it's the fic im most into atm and i already have the first chapter done, i just want to bank another one or two because once i start posting it i want to KEEP posting it with regular updates, hopefully every 2 weeks like with kaiein. HOWEVER this will put my atla fics on a back burner. april is a good writing time for me (PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE) bc i have the entire month off from uni to prep for may exam season, and i always want to write when im procrastinating my degree. which is. it's own thing im sure i'll graduate it's fine i'm fine. so if i focus on dog teeth, neither tams nor taob will get focus until like. june. which is par for the course with taob but im NOT happy about doing with tams.

SO my thought process was i can either be normal about this and just accept it's literally my final year at uni and im trying to graduate and it doesn't matter if updates are slow on ANY fics, or i can do my usual and implement an insane deadline that i somehow always make by the skin of my teeth. can you guess what i went with?

and thus i present unto the crowd my tentative plan: have the next taob chapter done by middle of april (im aware this is quite hand-wavey but it gives me a month to work with, so in my head this means anything between april 10th-20th), have the next tams chapter done by the end of april, and dog teeth can follow.

#i know a lot of you are gonna swarm and tell me not to push myself/rush and i love and appreciate the fuck out of you #i PROMISE if it gets too much i will call it quits like im not about to jeopardise my final exam season for this lmao #but ultimately i do work better when i give myself these insane writing challenges and it gives me something fun to do #while im drowning in econ assignments #as for dog teeth being moved to the back burner despite it being my current passion project #im not actually too bothered by this bc i will still be working on it as i work on my atla fics #and it'll be good as a breather when those get up my arse PLUS has the added benefit of the second part of dog teeth #not actually being posted yet so technically no one's 'waiting' for anything. like kaiein exists perfectly fine as a standalone #whereas if i post ch1 of part 2 in april i then have to KEEP POSTING or it'll bug me #and then i'll have THREE updating fics to juggle #does any of this make sense. hello. tapping the security camera in my padded room is anyone there #WHATEVER. I WILL KEEP YOU GUYS POSTED <3 #taob updates #tams #dog teeth

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vhstown · 5 months

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reminder that ppl who make stuff on the internet for free don't actually owe you anything at all like ... as sad as it is that ur fav comic / fanfic hasn't updated in god knows how long that person has a life 😭 can we not harass people and be compassionate and patient and understanding thanx

#like ive read fics that will never ever update again and #thats just too bad! oh well! ill live!#can we stop treating people like content machines this is not my story animated please #people have work school health + mental health issues etc etc #harrassing someone to update makes them demotivated to do exactly that... believe it or not...#and the quality of whatever it is might be worse because it is rushed #you do not simply pull the comic or fanfic out of your asscheeks you have to think unfortunately 😭 and draft and redraft and edit #and then hate it for a bit and redraft and you get the point!#try write something yourself. try finish a 200k word series. thats like a whole novel 😭 put those words to use instead of in sum1s comments #soz for the rant im meant to be doing homework erm!#vee chats #vee rants

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cultofsappho · 5 months

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Sneak Peak Sunday

tysm for the tags everyoneee @kiwiana-writes @14carrotghoul @heybuddy-drabbles @happiness-of-the-pursuit !!!!!

although I only post for about 1/4 of the wednesdays and sundays here, i am actually working on things! just at a comparatively very very slow pace.

I have (very recently, be nice) been diagnosed as autistic and am working through it my favorite way: writing fanfiction and projecting my issues on fictional characters. So, have the first few lines written for my So Far Untitled Late Diagnosed Autistic Henry fic with a dash of internalized ableism that he's really gonna need to work through

It's not a problem, it's just that sometimes Henry thinks if anyone speaks to him he’ll spontaneously combust. It’s fine, really, but if one more person looks at him like he’s a fish out of water, he might just believe it. He’s okay, but he also occasionally thinks about ripping his own skin off. It’s fine. He’s fine. It’s depression. It’s anxiety, or grief, or this is just what it’s like for all queer people trying to exist within a heterosexual world. Or... it’s any number of his other plentiful issues. Surely, there can’t be another thing wrong with him.

there can be actually :) and it's not something wrong but its there buddy :) you just learned to mask through posture coaching and oppressive royal formality sweetheart :)

as usual, no pressure tags (and some who probably already posted, i'm constantly behind sorry): @affectionatelyrs @inexplicablymine @daisymae-12 @cha-melodius @ships-to-sail @sherryvalli @myheartalivewrites @cosmicalart and open tag to anyone looking to share what they've been working on!!

#writing #tag game #rwrb #firstprince #alex is going to have once hell of an adhd hyperfixation reseearch spiral over it i just know it #autistic!henry #this fic will hopefully have slow progess on purpose bc i want to work on it periodically as i process my own stuff so that it's authentic #henry's only slightly younger than me canonically in the book so it's gonna translate well #working on 3 wips at once so that I can space out work on this one over time #but just watch i'll finish it and post it way early and then have to come back and add to it bc im hyperfixating myself and rushing it #i know myself what can i say

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tobisiksi · 4 months

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saiki really enjoys TV drama, rumors abt famous? yes, fights between contestants of a program? yes, reality shows? yes, novels?? yes yes YES

he's so into it, he also knows a lot abt tv culture, he is those type of guys whom only way to express themselves are thought tv references

I can't say an example bc I only know about argentinian tv culture but he would often reference some phases from his favourites shows

#his friends have 0 idea about tv #they always make fun of ku bc hes literally an old sassy aunt trapped in a teenage's body #the only ones who can understand just SOME of the references are yumehara akechi and surprisingly nendo #his mom watches a lot of tv when shes finally free of chores and work and she always talks about tv drama #one day when kusuo was in nendo's house riki felt asleep #and midori was washing the dishes while the tv was on and kusuo went to help her with the chores #they started talking and actually get along pretty well #nendo is so happy that his mama and his best pal are getting along #this can be considered nensai maybe #saiki k #the disastrous life of saiki k #kusuo saiki #nendo riki #midori nendo #thinking thinking thinking #sorry if my english is bad #im writing this in a rush

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cantsaythetword · 5 months

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Squealing Santa 2k23: Gunpowder, Treason, and Plot

~A/N - I return out of the depths of my writing hiatus to bring @rosiesramblings her squealing santa fic for this year!!! This will be the last fic I post on this blog...

because I'm moving to my writing account for 2024 onwards (hehe don't worry I'm not quitting writing). I'll link the writing blog soon ^^

This will also be my first ever Red, White, and Royal Blue fic which I'm super excited about, and the prompt was:

"lee annoying the ler into tickling them"

As I couldn't choose who I wanted to lee more, I decided that after the initial round of annoyance-to-tickles, the tables would then turn. Just for funsies hehe.

Rosie, I hope your holidays have been nothing but wonderful so far, I hope you enjoy the fic, and I wish you a fantastic finish to 2023.

The best of vibes to you, and to anyone else reading this <3

(EDIT: SDJFHASDFLKSHJKLH I FORGOT TO ADD A TITLE LMAO HERE'S MY LAST MINUTE BRAIN THINKING UP SOMETHING THANK U ALL LOVE U)

- Enoy! ~

Tag List: @rosiesramblings

In the early days of Alex and Henry's interactions, anyone on the inside of the respective families could tell you they annoyed the crap out of each other. Whether it was intentional or not was another debate, but it was clear the pair got on each other's nerves.

As the two grew closer, the taunts and jabs thrown between them were often accompanied by a cheeky grin or smug eyebrow raise to lighten the tone. And sure, the comments themselves had turned from competitively one-upping each other into playful conversational love-bites. But that doesn't mean the subject of their incessant banter had changed.

"I'm surprised you could get that all by yourself." Henry smirked from the doorway, gesturing to the glass of juice Alex had in his hands.

"Good morning to you too," Alex quipped back with a grin, "and I'm not the one with hundreds of servants at my every beck and call."

Henry chuckled softly, allowing his boyfriend to give a quick peck to his cheek. "I thought you would have at least needed one to help you reach the glasses, the shelf is awfully high."

With a playful shove, Alex's mouth lay agape for a few moments. Taking his chance to be even more of a little shit, Henry softly lifted the glass from Alex's hands and took a sip.

"Not to mention," he continued, wiping his mouth momentarily as Alex snatched his drink back, "the juice itself is on one of the highest shelves in the fridge..."

With a chuckle of disbelief, Alex rolled his eyes. "Someone woke up on the asshole side of the bed."

"I don't know if it's the different sides..." Henry grinned. "I think it's just your bed."

With a look of shock and playful outrage on Alex's face, the First Son retaliated with a soft jabbing finger to Henry's ribs.

Apparently, this was the first time Alex had poked that particular area. Because Henry jerked away in a motion that Alex had never seen him do before. And the squeak that accompanied it was nothing short of mortifying for the normally very composed future king of england.

"Oh~?" Alex chuckled, raising an eyebrow. There was a hint of question in his voice, but Henry barely registered it past the strong tone of mischief accompanying Alex's growing smirk.

After a flash of panic darted across his face, Henry straightened himself up (though he couldn't help the nervous bark of laughter that came out of him as he spoke). "Alehex no..."

"What's the matter?" Alex moved closer. "Ticklish?"

"Of course I'm nOT-"

Timing his launch perfectly, Alex near-enough tackled his partner to the ground. With all of Henry's nervous energy the poor guy's limbs weren't following instructions very well, so it was almost too easy for Alex to sit on top of his legs and pin him to the floor.

"Alex- wait- please- you'll kILL MEHEHE!" Henry babbled desperately. His arms flailing wildly in front of his body, hoping that in some way he could catch Alex's damn hands and save himself.

"Worth it." Alex grinned, fingers wriggling in preparation for his attack (and also to mess with Henry).

"Thahat's treasohohon!"

Alex bent over, lowering his face so his nose was almost touching Henry's. "Anything to hear you laugh baby."

With his face blocking Henry's view, Alex caught his boyfriend completely off guard as his hands began spidering at Henry's sides. The prince squeaked in surprise before bursting into giggles - accompanied by the occasional 'stohohop it!'.

Adding insult to injury, Alex started to nuzzle his mouth into the crook of Henry's neck. The mixture of the soft kisses and scratchy stubble brushing against Henry's poor skin was driving the man insane, not to mention the fingers that were now wreaking havoc on his hip bones.

"AHAHALEHEX!" Henry screeched out between bouts of laughter. "PLEHEHEASE!"

"Please what baby?" Alex grinned into Henry's jaw. "Please accept your apology for teasing me earlier?"

"NEHEHEV- AHAHALEX!"

A man had never regretted his words faster than Henry did in that moment, as Alex rushed his fingers to claw at Henry's armpits after the prince's audacious response.

What Henry did next, or more accurately what his body reacted with next, was nothing short of a miracle for his situation.

Whilst trying to shove Alex off him, Henry had grabbed at the man's thighs. And whilst normally this wouldn't elicit much from his boyfriend (aside from perhaps a smirk or raise of an eyebrow), something about his finger placement and strong grip made Alex collapse to one side in a weird flailing motion.

It took only a few moments for Henry to catch his breath and realise what had happened.

"Seems I'm not the only ticklish one." Henry gasped, but the smile on his face was completely different to before.

"Henry..." Alex laughed nervously, starting to scoot himself away. "that's classified..."

"I'm your boyfriend." Henry propped himself up on his elbow and leaned forwards, an almost predatory look across his face. "Be honest."

Alex laughed again and tried to start sitting up. "Sorry, I'm legally not allowed to tELL YOU."

Before Alex could even finish his sentence Henry scrambled onto hands and knees and charged towards Alex.

The now panicking First Son yelped and tried to wrestle his way back into a safe position. But his efforts were fruitless, and Alex soon found himself lying on his back with Henry sitting on top of his legs.

"Don't worry sweetheart." Henry cracked his knuckles. "I can always find out myself."

"Yohou don't have clearahance for that!" Alex tried to steady his voice, but anticipatory giggles kept interrupting his flow of speech. "Ihihi can throhow you in jahahail!"

Henry couldn't help but laugh. "What was it you said earlier...?" He brought his hand to his chin as if deep in thought. "Something about doing anything to make someone laugh?"

"Henry, baby, please!" Alex spluttered, frantically trying to cover his entire torso from his hips to his ribs with his arms.

But little did he know, Henry already had a plan in motion.

The genius little Prince himself had sat just high enough on Alex's stomach to have a little pocket of access behind him right to the man's hips. And, with his knees blocking most of Alex's ability to protect the area, Henry only had to dart his hands behind his back and squeeze.

Alex's torso launched itself off the ground for a few seconds in a half-situp position, before his laughter finally exploded out of his chest and let him collapse back to the floor.

The future king of England had to pause at that moment. He figured Alex would be ticklish, but holy shit this was a whole other level of sensitive. His thumbs were barely rolling over Alex's hip-bones, so one could only imagine how bad this could possibly get.

"HEHEHEHEHENRY!" The poor guy squealed, writhing on the floor with a cheek-splitting grin worthy of the front page of a magazine.

"Yes my dear?" Henry laughed softly, moving his hands to now target Alex's ribs.

"STAHAHAHAP!"

The Prince's chuckles continued. "I'll consider it."

#squealing santa 2k23 #ss2k23 #i really hope this is ok !!!!#i've struggled with burnout for the last few months and I feel like this fic is alright (and it was very cute to write)#i just hope it doesnt feel rushed or anything #lmao i had to rewrite some of this cause i mixed up the lee/ler part at first so the 'annoyance into tickles' part didnt work out #but im still happy with how it worked out #also just btw this is christmas day when im posting it but i know timezones exist lmao #happy crimmus!

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lemonlimestar · 11 days

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what can be really frustrating about being in fandom spaces that my friends aren’t in is that i feel like i’m not as good at articulating ideas and feelings i have about my favorite thing.

unfortunately, a lot of my thoughts come out half-baked in text form because i’m 1) more used to bouncing ideas off my friends, both irl and in messages and 2) being the only one in smaller fandoms who has Large thoughts

enter comic fandom where everyone around me (that i curate at least <3) has large thoughts and i’m desperately trying to scribble down a storyline idea i had and sound half-coherent AND making sure i don’t have any typos. like i have so many ideas for mini comics i’d like to do and aus i’ve mashed together and general character analysis but it just all comes out as single sentences and keysmashes. lord

#it’s so funny bc my following is person who should work for dc. person who should write for dc. my own post about yj socks on carpet #i swear i more to offer than sillies:..#im just constantly rushing myself :’)#or uninspired (sorry nysa)#which i’ll come to back it but!!! i need to learn to better present my ideas first #don’t mind me #what’s bro yappin about

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takamikeiigos · 2 years

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Fucking Keigo So Good that his personality suddenly does a complete 180, and rather than being the cocky(ehe) little shit™.

He's now a sobbing, blabbering mess underneath you, Head Down, Ass Up~

He should've known not to piss you off, but after the first three times he denied your release, you gave tf up and took over.

Oh, how the turn tables😳

anon i-

i will bust a whole ass nut just thinking about this..

pretty bird, thinking he can push you toward the finish line over and over and over again without letting you cum

he isn't expecting your annoyed, harsh tug to his wings that has him nearly collapsing on top of you, his face buried in your shoulder as he whines; a broken, needy sound as he gasps for air

such a pretty sound coming from him. you swear you could get off just from the noises he makes.

you squeeze again, gentle this time, and keigo keens against you, pliant under your touch. you take the advantage and flip your positions, and he's lying on his back, flushed and daze underneath you with his wings spread wide

submissive..

"pretty boy.. trying so hard to act tough," you sigh, leaning forward to press a chaste kiss to his forehead. he groans beneath you, with your hand still tucked firmly in one of his wings, lips parted and cheeks flushed in such a wanton expression.

"but don't worry, love-bird," you brush golden strands of hair from his forehead, caressing his cheek in your hand. "i'm going to take such good care of you."

climbing off of him, you reach over to the nightstand beside your bed, where you obtain a bottle of lubricant from the drawer. when you turn back to him, he's finally gathering his wits, sitting up and staring at you with innocently wide eyes - pretty pink blush spreading down his chest and his wings disheveled

"fuck me," he breathes, and you just smile at him

"oh, sweetheart.. that's the plan."

you see the breath leave his lungs, a full body shiver as his wings rustle behind him, and without being told any further, he rolls over onto his front. he moves slow as he shifts his hips up - as if putting on a show - shoulder and back muscles flexing as he presses his chest to the mattress with his ass in the air. his cock is thick and full between his legs, the tip of it dragging over the bed sheet and staining it with precum

you climb behind him, satisfied with his obedience, and lean forward to press a gentle kiss to the small of his back. his hips twitch in anticipation.

"so good for me," you murmur against his skin, uncapping the bottle of lube. you squeeze some into your hand, rubbing it between your fingers before reaching under him.

the first initial touch of your fingers against his cock is feather light, and he moans sweetly into the pillows, hips stuttering as he tries to stop himself from thrusting against you. his cock twitches between his legs as you trace your fingers up his shaft, stopping at the tip to message gentle circles into the slit.

"f-fuck, baby, please," keigo begs, grasping at the sheets beneath himself while you tease the swollen head of his cock. "'s killin' me, need you to - f-fuuuck,"

you manage to slip a lubed finger into him while he pleads, gliding it in excruciatingly slow, and he sinks his chest further into the sheets as he arches against your touch, choking on a moan

it doesn't take long to turn him into a gooey, pleading mess, his moans and needy sobs echoing off your bedroom walls while you're three fingers deep in him and stroking his cock. he's thrusting back onto your fingers and forward into your hand, a drooling mess as he begs you to let him cum. it's such a beautiful sight, watching him fall apart in your hands, desperate and needy.

"please, please, please," he cries, gasping for breath. his cock is twitching in your hand as you stroke it languidly, fingers brushing the time every few passes to spread his precum

"it's okay, i won't deny you, songbird," you whisper as you lean into him. you press gentle kisses between his shoulder blades, and when you nip at the joint of his wings, he whimpers into the pillows. "not with those beautiful noises you keep making for me."

you run your tongue along the joint of one of his wings and he cums; hard, spasming against you as you continue to thrust your fingers into him and stroke him through it

he's an absolute mess, with tear-stained cheeks and whole body flushed, and you couldn't be happier with what you've created

#sorry this is rushed!!!#i had to finish it on break at work #disclaimer!!!#ive never written bottom!keigo before so im sorry if this is trash!!! 😭#bottom!hawks #keigo takami #hawks #bnha hawks #bnha keigo takami #keigo takami x reader #hawks x reader #ky writes #mha hawks #n.sfw

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