#{feel free to pass if you've already done this one}

[kylo-wrecked]

ff / rp trope tier list

tagged by:// @nightmarefuele and @thecreativeforge 🖤🤍

tagging:// @writteninscarlet, @etoilebleu, @red-flight, @riiese, @thewindchild, @yunharlaquin, @unwaivering, @ifyoucatchacriminal, @itmeanspeace, @ofthestcrs, @positivelybeastly, @smolcuriouskitten, @silverjetsystm, @southern-belle-outcasts, @datapadz, @debelltio, @doyl1st, @graysistance, @godresembled, @lastxdragon, @chromium-siren, @cxpperhead, @corinnebaileyrp, @valorums, @valkxrie, @bewitchingbaker, @brooklynislandgirl, @mayxthexforce, @madxwonderland, and anyone i missed!

[leathfaic]

Ghost thinks he's cracked the code when he gifts Johnny an ultra complicated lego set for Christmas. Something to keep his hands and mind busy for a while.

He's watching, with terror and awe as Soap burns through a 1000+ pieces in an hour, with half a bottle of whiskey in him - drinking more while he's at it. He smiles the whole way through, though - and Ghost gets a tipsy peck on his cheek. Which might or might not have made the whole endeavour worth it.

"Thought that might keep you busy a while longer." he admits later, when he's deep into his own cups.

"Ach, dinnae sound so disappointed Ghostie, not'ing in there tha' can explode. Can work fast and sloppy."

Ghost just spent an hour staring at Johnny's hands and the concentration painted on his face. He knows there was nothing sloppy about that assembly. But he has to admit that compared to Soap's usual jobs, this is bound to be rather calming.

His eyes meet Price's over in another corner of the room. And the message, conveyed by a single raised eyebrow is clear. Ghost is not to add explosives to any gifts, even if it would make Soap very happy.

So naturally the next time - at Johnny's birthday - he slaps down a timer and a fully assembled lego set.

"Better get it done in time Johnny. And no cheating."

The way Soap's face lights up at the implication that there might be a bomb in his birthday gift should be concerning. But all it does is make Ghost wish there actually were some.

Johnny is a good sport about properly disassembling the marzipan compromise inside though. And just to prove he can immediately rebuilds the legos into the other figure they can form - taking a shot every time he has to look at the manual.

And when he carries his way too drunk partner to bed, Ghost vows to apply for Christmas leave. Which is something he hasn't done since...well for a long, long time.

Johnny, being the man that he is, never questions why they are going to spend Christmas in the countryside. A small cottage barely worth the name, as far away from other people as you can get on the Isles.

He just takes the chance to kiss Ghost every chance he gets, enjoying the fact that their isolation means he's getting an unprecedented amount of mask-free Simon.

"Got a surprise for you out in the shed, sweetheart." Ghost whispers when he catches Soap from behind while the man is about to open a bottle.

"Sounds like what a serial killer would say to lure ye into the open."

Ghost decides not to ponder that. With the reality of their jobs that answer... more than he's willing to argue right now.

"Should wait with that until you've had the surprise." he says instead, gently taking the bottle from Soap. Who for the first time frowns.

Ghost relents and they bring the scotch to the shed.

When Soap sees what he cooked up, he whistles low, no need to confirm that what he's seeing is the real deal.

It has taken all of Ghost's knowledge about explosives to craft the abomination. The two lego sets combined with a new third one, 6 sets of cables - all the same colour, and of course a live charge inside.

Johnny goes all still. Stalks closer like he's trying to get the drop on the inanimate object.

Watches it from all sides before turning to Ghost, "Do Ah need to follow protocol?"

His voice clearly tells him he hopes he does not have to. Ghost once again feels vindicated in his choice to move them out here, just pressing the bottle back into Soap's hand with a smile.

If this is what takes them both out then it's already worth it for the unhinged grin it gets him. Johnny's feral joy is infectious, and when he finally steps away raising his hands like he's expecting a crowd to cheer, Ghost honestly couldn't tell you how much time had passed.

He doesn't get a chance to ponder it either because the next second he's tackled by a full grown Scot with a half empty bottle of scotch in his hand and taken clean of his feet.

And if he hadn't already convinced this had been worth it, then the way Johnny makes sure to say thank you certainly is.

They do not make it back to the cottage for a good long while.

(This whole thing was inspired by my dear beloved @dismightyman who's singlehandedly holding it down in the Ghoap trenches with me)

[aakeysmash]

christmas shopping, matching pajamas and family discounts

college!sukuna masterlist

"Why are we here again?" college!sukuna huffs from next to you for the umpteenth time.

"Stop acting like a little bitch. You asked me that 20 seconds ago, Yuuji is acting better than you," you hiss out, glaring at him. It's true though: the kid is trotting right in front of you two, not a care in the world, while his caretaker is currently dragging his feet on the pavement you're walking on.

"And you still didn't answer, fucker," he barks back, grimacing, kicking a little rock.

"Yes, I fucking did! I told you this morning we were going Christmas shopping! You never listen to me," you start, jutting your lip out and trying to play the victim. You know he hates it when you do it. "Maybe I should tell Yuuji how his big brother hates the idea of going shopping with him," you provoke, whispering so that only you and him know what you're talking about. He scoffs, offended.

"Liar. Don't you fucking dare-"

"Are you two fighting again?" whines Yuuji, turning around and pouting. You and Sukuna glance at each other before shaking your head at the same moment.

"No, we're getting along so well," you force yourself to smile.

"Yeah, she said she's so glad I'm accompanying her. Matter of fact, she said she's going to offer us lunch," Sukuna continues, an evil glint in his eyes when he hears you gasp.

"I did not-"

"Really?! Yippie!" screams Yuuji, coming to hug you violently. You stumble back, gritting your teeth, and reciprocate the hug while narrowing your eyes at the grinning tattooed man in front of you. He knows you're not able to say no to his brother.

When Yuuji runs inside the mall, you push Sukuna's shoulder, mumbling "bitch". He just chuckles, then boldly gets you close by placing one open hand on your lower back. You know he's just going to tease you, so you put both hands on his chest to fight back, trying to put some distance between you two, but the place is crowded and everyone is looking at you. A woman passes by you and looks at you weirdly, so you stop wriggling in his grasp, and he delicately pushes you even closer. You're chest to chest, his breath fanning over your features, grin ever present on his face, enjoying how you look pissed out of your mind. From the outside, it looks like you're hugging each other, when in reality he just puts his mouth on your ear to utter "Never play with me, baby. I know how to drive you mad," then frees you and walks behind Yuuji with his hands in his pockets, not turning back to see if you're following him or not. You're seething.

"Oh my God, Yuuji, look at these!" you swoon over a pair of pajama pants. They're a soft brown, decorated with little green Christmas' trees and little reindeers, a bright red Merry Christmas! on both knees.

"It's a set!" squeals the kid next to you, grabbing the sweater right on top of the piece of cloth you have in your hands. You both notice at the same time that the set comes both in adults' and kids' sizes. "Can we take it?" he asks you looking up, puppy eyes activated. Your heartstrings are pulled so tight you feel like you could implode if you look at his face for a second longer.

"Of course we can, I thought it was obvious," you say excitedly, grabbing his hands and jumping up and down with him in a circle while he laughs, smile on full display and brown eyes squeezed shut happily.

Sukuna, who has kept watching his phone for the majority of the time you've been inside the mall, raises his gaze when he hears your laugh mingled with his brother's. If you had been looking at him in that instant, you would've seen the brief soft glimpse that passed on his whole face when he took in how happy you both looked together. When you turn around, though, he's already schooled his features to appear bored.

"Are we done?" he yawns.

"Would you like to match with us?" you ask him, at the same time. You scowl and he scoffs.

"Hell no, girl. I'm not with whatever stupid shit y'all are doing," he says, trying to act tougher than what he actually feels like. Seeing you being kind to the only person in the world who shares 100% of his genes makes him feel things he doesn't want to acknowledge right now.

"You're a party pooper, 'Kuna," Yuuji mumbles, frowning. "Can we still match? I really want us to match," he adds, shily, looking at you. You're shocked. His cheeks are getting redder the more you gawk at him. "Sorry, you can say no-"

Your kiss on his cheek resonates all around the ally you're currently staying in. "Of course I want to match with you. We don't need your evil brother, Yuuji. Let's go try them on," you sweetly say, taking his hand and walking away from Sukuna, not before flipping him off. Yuuji is so giddy that he follows you like he's walking on clouds, his face slightly hurting from how hard he's cheesing.

Sukuna just stands there, baffled and even a little offended. He stiffens, noticing he still has his phone in his hands. He's so fast with it he's the first to remain shocked by his own actions: he hears the click of his camera and looks at the pic he's just taken, feeling his chest heavier than it's ever been. It's a beautifully taken pic, where you and Yuuji are squinting at each other, hand in hand, laughing. He turns off his screen, shakes his head and catches up to you. You're going to give him a headache if you continue being like this. Or a heart attack. Or both.

"Hello, what can I do for you?" the nice old lady at the checkout says.

"Hi, we'd like to take these two pieces," you kindly respond, handing her the pajamas you and Yuuji just tried on.

"Let me see... oh, we actually have a family discount on this! Is the daddy not going to take anything?" she innocently asks, looking over at your older roommate.

"Yo, I'm not his-"

Your eyes almost fall out of your sockets. "Ah ah ah! Silly us! We forgot his one! Just give me a second," you interrupt a scowling Sukuna, covering his mouth with your hand before he can finish his sentence, dragging him away. Yuuji gives the old lady a confused look, to which she responds with "Young parents these days," shaking her head.

"You're going to take the fucking matching set, Sukuna, and you're going to like it," you seethe, still dragging him away (well, it's more like he's letting you drag him away). You hear how he's trying to talk behind your hand. "Don't piss me off. I'm going to pay less to get more, and you're going to listen to me. Go." You ignore him and he raises one eyebrow, looking you up and down, before biting your fingers. You yelp and let him go, scowling. "I said go! And act like you care about me when we get there, we're a family until the discount tells us so!"

"Okay, ma'am," he grins down to you, wiping his saliva from the corner of his mouth with a slow movement, his gaze lingering a bit too much on the way you're panting.

"Move! Take your size and let's go! Yuuji is waiting for us!" you push him, rushing back to the cashier.

"Oh, you were really fast. I thought you were going to argue with the way you rushed away," she says when she sees you come back, surprised. You nervously chuckle, telling her how you were already planning on buying one for Sukuna, you just forgot. "That would be 20.99$."

While you're swiping your card, you suddenly feel engulfed by heat. Sukuna positions his hands on your waist, giving you a half hug from behind while simultaneously giving his best confident grin to the old lady in front of him.

"Yeah. I just like when she bosses me around a bit, if you know what I mean," he says, sultry, winking at the cashier who is chuckling behind her hand, embarrassed, waving him away.

What the fuck? You initially try not to stiffen, then relax and give her a shy smile, and he squeezes you a bit closer. You melt on his chest, feeling hotter than you've felt all day. He's so comfortable. He brushes his lips near your ear and makes sure you hear the way his raspy voice is all around you. "And I do, baby. I really do."

[aeralux]

"Feel It" - Lucerys Velaryon

Modern!AU Stepbrother!Lucerys x OlderStepsister!Reader

Summary: Since moving in with your new stepdad Harwin, things have been more than chaotic. Your hair products are used up, and all the chores are left on your shoulders to carry. Lately, though, you've noticed a certain article of clothing going missing from your dirty laundry basket- your panties. And you're damn determined to get them back... while simultaneously teaching your stepbrother a lesson.

Warnings: SMUT 18+; cunnilingus; handjob; virgin!Lucerys (I see a pattern here); whiny boy; kind of mean reader, but she also praises Luke; stepcest; panty sniffing; lots of “good boy”; masturbation; submissive leaning!Lucerys

Words: 8.9k

Notes: In this story, all characters are of legal age. Jacaerys is 21-22 years old, while Lucerys is 19, with the reader being slightly older. Feel free to imagine different ages, but these are the ones I used while writing this story. There is no physical description of the reader, except that she is female. If you do not feel comfortable with any of the warnings, please do not read. I am not responsible for the media you consume.

𐔌 . ⋮ aera .ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

Ever since moving in with your mother's new serious boyfriend, Harwin, life had taken on a new, chaotic rhythm. No longer was it just you and your mom in your cosy three-bedroom apartment. Now, you found yourself in a big house that felt overwhelming, complete with a large backyard, a sparkling pool, and a patio perfect for lazy afternoons. It was easy to see why your mom had fallen for Harwin—he was handsome, charming, and undeniably wealthy. Sometimes you thought, with a hint of amusement, that you might have liked him too if he weren't your stepfather.

Harwin was genuinely a nice man. He always made an effort to be kind and considerate, never pushing to replace your biological dad, and he respected your space.

But the real challenge began with his two sons. You had only glimpsed them in passing while visiting the house. Harwin and your mother had agreed to wait until things felt serious before you met, so now you were living with three near strangers.

Jacaerys was closest to your age, and you could sense the instant rivalry between you, even if you didn’t know him well. He was confident and had an attitude that seemed to dare you to challenge him. Lucerys, a few years younger, had a carefree spirit but could be just as devilish as his older brother. And then there was Joffrey, the youngest and, in your opinion, the least troublesome. He was the one who often stayed out of trouble and seemed to want to make things easier for you genuinely.

While Joffrey quietly supported you—snitching on his brothers and sharing snacks during your study sessions—Jace and Luke relentlessly wanted to annoy you. They would blast music that echoed through the halls, turning your moments of peace into a lively party you never asked for. They also had a habit of stealing your hair products, needing them to style their pretty brown curls. And as for chores? They had the ability to vanish just when there was work to be done, leaving you to do everything on your own.

Despite the challenges, you appreciated Joffrey’s companionship. He seemed to prefer a sister figure, bringing a sense of connection that comforted you amidst the chaos of living with his irritating brothers. It was clear his brothers didn’t appreciate it, sometimes being even jealous of yours and the 17-year-old's bond.

Lately, however, a thought had begun to creep into your mind. You were used to the occasional missing sock here and there, but when your favourite pairs of panties and thongs started to vanish, you couldn’t help but suspect Luke and Jace.

You knew better than to just confront them outright. You’d tried that with Jace once, and it hadn’t gone well. It turned into an argument where he insisted he already had plenty of underwear from other girls, which only made you more suspicious.

No, this required a clever plan. You decided to gather the boys' laundry instead. It wouldn’t look suspicious at all. After all, you liked doing the laundry and the lighter chores around the house. So, you made your way to Joffrey's room, where you could hear the familiar sounds of his Nintendo Switch.

“Hey, do you have any laundry for me to do? Lights and darks, I’ll be doing both today!” you called out, trying to sound casual as you knocked on his door.

“Yeah, they’re in the grey box,” he mumbled, barely glancing up from the screen. You couldn’t help but chuckle at his nonchalance. “I better not find a hard sock in there!” you joked back, and you heard a muffled “Ugh! Shut up!” in response, which made you smile as you left with his dirty clothes.

Next, you headed to Jace’s room, where the loud blaring of classic rock music spilt into the hallway. You didn’t even knock; you just pushed the door open and announced, “Laundry.” It was a given that he’d have a pile waiting.

Jace groaned and looked up from his textbook, his expression a mix of annoyance and disbelief. “Can’t you knock first, seriously?” he shot back, slouching against his desk. His gaze landed on the laundry basket you were carrying, and he rolled his eyes. “Oh great, laundry day.”

He stood up and walked over to his closet, digging around to grab a handful of wrinkled clothes and tossing them into your basket. “Anything else you need, Miss Perfect?” he asked, sarcasm dripping from his words.

You rolled your eyes, feeling irritation and something else entirely. There was that infuriating smirk again. It was maddening how attractive he was, even while being the most annoying person in your life. The universe had played a cruel joke on you.

You glanced into the basket; it felt unexpectedly heavy, even for him. “What have you got in here? A fucking rock?” you mocked, lifting it slightly to emphasize your point.

His smirk widened at your jab, clearly enjoying the banter. He leaned in closer, lowering his voice as if sharing a secret. “Aw, someone’s a bit sensitive today, huh? Don’t worry; I’m sure there’s nothing too interesting in my laundry.” He patted the basket, the sheer weight of it making you wonder just how many clothes he had stuffed in there.

“Maybe I just have a lot of clothes, princess,” he said, his tone playful yet infuriatingly smug.

You huffed in response, bracing yourself as you lifted the basket. It was heavy, and you could feel the embarrassment creeping in from the struggle. The weight and his knowing smirk made you want to scream, but you wouldn’t give him that satisfaction.

“Just don’t be surprised when your whites come back pink,” you shot back with a scowl as you turned to leave, making your way to the storage room to get started on the first load of laundry.

After starting the first load, you made your way to Lucerys' room, where he had no clue you were on your way.

Lucerys let out a whimper as he felt his cock throb in his hand, the silky fabric of your panties wrapped tightly around his shaft. He couldn't believe he was doing this, masturbating with his stepsister's underwear like some kind of pervert. But the thought of you, of the way your ass would look in these tiny thongs, was too much to resist.

"Fuck…" he moaned softly, his hips bucking up into his fist as he stroked himself. The lace was already damp with his pre-cum, the sticky fluid coating his fingers as he pumped faster.

Lucerys' mind raced with dirty thoughts, imagining pinning you down and fucking your tight little cunt until you screamed. He wanted to fill you up, to pump you full of his hot, thick seed until it was leaking out of you. The idea of breeding his stepsister, of watching your belly swell with his child, made him throb even harder.

"God yes… gonna knock you up…" he panted, his voice rising in desperation. "Take my cum… fucking take it all…" he whined, his strokes becoming erratic. Quickly placing the thongs on his face instead, wanting to smell you.

"F-Fuck…" he whimpered, his green eyes glazing over with lust as he breathed in your scent. His right hand was wrapped around his hard cock, pumping it slowly as he sniffed your underwear.

Lucerys's breath came in short, desperate gasps as he tugged at his aching member, the slick sound of his hand moving over his shaft filling the room. His face was flushed, and he squirmed on the bed, hopelessly turned on by the intoxicating aroma of your pussy that still lingered on the thin lace.

"Mmm, sister please…" he moaned, high-pitched and needy. In his mind, he imagined burying his face between your legs, lapping at your dripping slit as he breathed in your scent directly from the source. He fantasized about plunging his tongue deep inside you, tasting your essence as he fucked his face against your cunt.

"Ahhhn, your pussy tastes so fucking good," Lucerys panted, stroking himself faster as he rubbed your thongs against his blushing face. Drool dripped from the corners of the thong and down his chin as he lost himself in his lustful daze.

As you stood outside his door you considered knocking as you had for Joffrey, but Luke had been getting on your nerves lately, so you decided not to grant him that courtesy. Instead, you swung the door open swiftly. "Laundry, now."

Lucerys froze like a deer in the headlights, his green eyes wide with shock and fear as you barged in. He yanked his hand off, his rigid cock throbbing and leaking pre-cum, the wet spot on his boxers clearly visible. Throwing the thong, he had been sniffing, behind him.

"Wh-what the fuck?!" Lucerys stammered, his face turning beet red. He quickly tried to stuff his dick back into his pants, wincing at the sensitivity. Tears pricked the corners of his eyes as humiliation washed over him. He had never been caught doing something so depraved before.

"I-I can explain…" he whimpered pathetically, his voice cracking with emotion. He looked at you pleadingly, silently begging for forgiveness and understanding. At that moment, he resembled a scolded child more than a young man.

His gaze darted to the thong on the bed behind him, hoping you hadn't seen it. Lucerys swallowed hard, his mouth dry with anxiety. "It's not what you think…" he tried to protest weakly, even though it was exactly what you had caught him doing.

You slammed the laundry basket down on the floor with a thud, your heart pounding in shock and anger as you glared at him. Folding your arms across your chest, you looked at him with an expression of utter disbelief, your eyes narrowing.

"You can explain?" you repeated incredulously, your voice dripping with sarcasm and outrage. "So let me guess, you were just… admiring the lace, Luke? Checking if any holes needed fixing?" Your tone turned mocking and bitter.

You took a step closer to him, your full hips swaying with each movement, drawing his gaze to your body. "Or maybe… you were just sniffing how well your dear stepsister smells, huh? Thinking if it would actually cover my ass, hmm?" Your voice rose.

"No, I… I mean, yes…" Lucerys stammered, his face turning an even deeper shade of red. He couldn't meet your gaze, his eyes darting nervously around the room. "I'm sorry, okay? I don't know what came over me. I just… I couldn't help myself." He looked down at the floor, shamefaced and remorseful.

"I didn't mean to…," he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. "It was stupid and wrong of me. I crossed a line, and I'm truly sorry." He swallowed hard, his hands trembling slightly as he clenched them into fists at his sides. "Please, don't tell anyone about this. I'll do anything to make it up to you, I swear."

Despite his shame and embarrassment, Lucerys couldn't help but let his gaze linger on your swaying hips and curves. The way your anger made your breasts heave and your eyes flash was incredibly arousing. He quickly looked away again, hating himself for his inappropriate thoughts and reactions at a time like this.

"Fuck, I'm so sorry," he whimpered, his voice wavering with genuine remorse. "I don't know what to say. I just… I swear it won't happen again." He looked up at you pleadingly, his eyes filled with desperation and a hidden, lingering lust that he couldn't quite suppress. "Please, can we just forget this happened?" he asked softly.

You leaned in closer as you stared at Lucerys's flushed, pitiful expression. With a smirk, you shook your head slowly.

"Are you fucking kidding me right now? Wow… just wow," you said quietly, your tongue flicking against your cheek as you eyed him with utter contempt.

"Let me guess, you've never even had your clumsy, inexperienced hands anywhere near a real woman's pussy. Is that why you need to resort to sniffing my dirty panties like some sad, pathetic virgin? Huh?" you mocked, your brow arching in disbelief.

You sat next to him on the bed. Your voice lowered to a biting whisper as you hissed,

"And thinking about shoving my cunt in your face is supposed to do what, exactly? I mean, do you even know how to eat a pussy right?" you challenged.

He swallowed hard, his eyes flickering down to your lips as you whispered biting words in his ear. He could feel the heat of your breath on his skin, making him shudder. Lucerys's cock strained against his pants, desperate for stimulation, even as his mind reeled from your mocking.

Your eyes narrowed as you glared down at his shaking, nervous form. "Just look at you, trembling and blushing like an overgrown toddler…" you declared, your voice rising with each word. Smirking as you knew you were finally getting payback for all those times he had messed with you.

He could feel the heat radiating off your body, and it took every ounce of his self-control not to reach out and touch you.

Your mocking words stung, and he felt his face burn with shame and embarrassment. He knew you were right, that he had acted like a pathetic, inexperienced virgin. And yet, despite the humiliation, he couldn't deny the way his cock throbbed at your words.

"I… I didn't mean to take them," he stammered, his voice shaking with nerves and a confusing mix of embarrassment and lingering lust.

"And I'm sure I could learn," he blurted out, his voice barely above a whisper as he gazed at you with desperation and hidden desire.

Lucerys's hands clenched tighter in his lap. He was terrified of your reaction, but he couldn't deny the overwhelming urge to kiss you, to worship your body, to make you feel good in any way he could.

He looked up at you from beneath long lashes, his green eyes filled with a swirling mix of fear, shame, and barely restrained lust. "Please… Tell me what you need me to do," he begged softly, his voice low and desperate.

You leaned in closer, your hand coming up to gently cup Lucerys's flushed cheek. You couldn't help but smile at the sight of him looking so meek and submissive, a far cry from the brat he usually was.

"You know you're rather adorable when you're being this good," you teased softly, your thumb brushing lightly over his burning skin. "Such a pretty thing, so eager to learn…" you murmured, almost admiringly.

But then you sighed, shaking your head slightly as if disappointed by his past misdeeds. "Too bad you couldn't have been this well-behaved from the start. Think of all the fun we could've had sooner." Your tone turned playful at the end, a hint of flirtation slipping through.

You had always thought that he and Jacaerys were handsome, thinking that if they weren't your stepbrothers you would have probably made a move on one of them. Too bad they got on your nerves all the time.

You let your gaze travel slowly over his trembling form, taking in the way his chest heaved with shallow breaths, the way his eyes clung to yours with desperate hope and barely restrained hunger.

"But look at you now," you purred, leaning in until your lips were a mere breath from his ear. "Aren't you lucky, getting a chance to learn from your big sister?" you whispered teasingly, your breath tickling his sensitive skin. "I have soooo many lessons to teach you, baby boy…" you trailed off, letting the promise linger between you, heavy with wicked intent.

Lucerys shuddered as your hand cupped his cheek, his skin burning at your gentle touch. He leaned into your palm instinctively, craving more of your touch despite the humiliation that still raced through him.

His heart skipped a beat at your teasing words, a small, shy smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He knew he had been a brat, always trying to get under your skin and rile you up. But hearing you call him adorable and well-behaved made a warmth bloom in his chest that had nothing to do with shame.

"Does… does that mean I have a chance to be good for you?" he breathed, hardly daring to hope. His eyes clung to yours, desperate for any scraps of affection or approval.

Lucerys's cock strained against his boxers, leaking pre-cum and creating a growing wet spot. The thought of you teaching him, guiding him and moulding him into your ideal lover made him throb with need.

"Please…" he breathed out, his voice barely audible. "Please, I'll… I’ll be your good boy… I promise." His words were punctuated by another desperate shudder, his body aching.

You leaned in close, letting your fingertips trail teasingly through Lucerys's hair as you tilted his chin to meet your stern gaze. "Oh, you're a good boy now, hmm? That's rich, coming from a brat who's done nothing but make my life a living nightmare these past months," you scolded, your voice laced with mock exasperation.

He shivered under your touch, feeling a confusing mix of shame and arousal at your mocking words.

"Cleaning up after your messes, hunting down my stolen things, finding my expensive hair products used up… do you have any idea what a pain in the ass you and Jace have been?" you huffed, your chest heaving slightly as you voiced your grievances.

Despite your words, a playful smirk tugged at your lips. "But I suppose even a dumb puppy can learn new tricks. And much as it pains me to say it… you do seem genuinely sorry." You reached under your skirt, hooking your thumbs into the waistband of your skimpy white panties.

"Since you've got such a hard-on for my panties, here," you purred, handing him the dainty white cotton with its cute pink bow and noticeable damp patch. "Fresh from this morning. Why don't you show me what you usually do with them, hmm?" You cocked an eyebrow, a wicked glint in your eyes as you settled yourself back down beside him.

Lucerys snatched the offered panties from your hand, his fingers brushing against yours. The still-warm fabric and the damp patch on them made his cock throb painfully in his pants. He could smell your scent, the lingering aroma of your arousal, and he knew he'd never be able to get enough.

"Th-thank you," he stammered, clutching the panties like a treasure. His cheeks flushed an even deeper shade of red as he looked up at you shyly, wondering if he should do this if he dared to do this.

As he brought them to his nose, inhaling your intimate scent, he whimpered softly. "Fuck…" he breathed out, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment. He rubbed the fabric against his cheek, savouring the feeling and smell of your panties.

"I… I usually just sniff them," he confesses, his voice low and shaky with desire. "Over and over, until the scent fades. It's not enough… but it's the only way I can get close to you like this." He gazed at you from beneath thick lashes, his green eyes dark and hungry.

You watched, eyes narrowed and lips curved in a smirk, as Lucerys's nose wrinkled and breathing quickened while inhaling your scent from the damp crotch of your panties. "Mmm, sniffing them is cute and all," you murmured, tone laced with mocking amusement, "but you've got to do better than that if you want to prove you're sorry."

Leaning in closer, you cupped Lucerys's flushed cheek, fingers curling under his chin to tilt his gaze up to meet yours, making him look at you with wide nervous eyes. Your thumb brushed over the quivering curve of his bottom lip and he felt his resolve crumble "Lick them," you commanded firmly, voice low and authoritative. "Show me exactly how you'd use that tongue of yours to worship your big sister's pussy, hmm? Since it's obvious how badly you want to taste me." You patted his cheek a few times.

"Don't hold back, baby boy. Pretend my panties are the real thing…" You arched an eyebrow, a wicked gleam in your eye as you awaited his response.

With shaking hands, he brought the crotch of your panties to his mouth, taking a deep breath of your scent one last time before parting his lips. He extended his tongue, the tip of it brushing against the damp fabric.

Lucerys let out a low moan as the taste of your arousal exploded on his tongue, his eyes fluttering shut as he savoured it. He could feel the wetness seeping through the thin cotton, coating his tongue with your essence.

He began to lick more insistently, his tongue dragging over the fabric in long, slow strokes. He imagined this was your pussy, your dripping wet folds parting under his ministrations. He licked harder, more urgently, his tongue delving into the damp patch, trying to lap up every last drop of your juices.

Soft whimpers and needy whines spilt from Lucerys's lips as he lost himself in the act, his hips bucking slightly as he pleasured your panties with his mouth. The taste of your pussy was intoxicating, and he wanted nothing more than to bury his face between your thighs and feast on your cunt until you were screaming in ecstasy.

Lucerys's cheeks burned with shame and humiliation, but he couldn't stop. He needed to prove to you that he would do anything you asked, that he would be your good boy.

You snatched the panties from Lucerys's hand, giving his flush cheek a light smack to snap him out of his lust-filled daze. "Eyes up here, perv," you teased, rolling your eyes. "If you really want to apologize, you're gonna have to do better than just sniffing and drooling on my underwear like a dog in heat."

Sighing dramatically, you crawled over to the other side of the bed and leaned back against the wooden headboard. Spreading your legs, you let them fall open slowly, revealing a glimpse of your glistening, bare pussy. The scent of your arousal perfumed the air between you.

"Isn't this a first for you, little brother?" you purred mockingly, arching an eyebrow. "I bet you've seen plenty of fake tits and ass in those porn videos you jerk off to, but a real, live cunt? That's a whole different story."

You could see the way Lucerys' eyes widened as he took in the sight, his pupils dilating with hunger and desire. A smirk played at the corners of your lips as you watched him drink in every detail of your most intimate place.

"Go ahead, get a good look," you encouraged, spreading your legs wider. The glisten of my wetness was unmistakable, and you could feel a trickle of arousal dripping down the curve of your ass.

Lucerys swallowed hard, his mouth going dry at the sight of your glistening, naked pussy mere inches from him. He had never seen anything so beautiful, so perfect. The way your lips shone with your arousal made his mouth water and his cock throb almost painfully.

"I… I've never seen one off-screen," he breathed, his voice shaking with a mix of nerves and unbridled desire. He couldn't take his eyes off your cunt, watching as another trickle of wetness slid down your folds.

Despite his inexperience, Lucerys knew exactly what his body craved. Slowly, hesitantly, he brought a hand up to your knee, his fingers trembling as they brushed against your soft skin. He looked up at you questioningly, seeking permission as he began to inch his hand upwards.

"Can I… can I touch you?" he asked softly, his eyes flickering from your face to your pussy and back again. The tent in his pants was only growing more pronounced, the outline of his hard cock straining against the fabric.

Lucerys's heart raced as you considered his request, hoping desperately, that you would allow him this small mercy. He was terrified of fucking this up, of ruining whatever chance he had with you. But more than anything, he wanted to touch you, to feel the silky heat of your skin, the slickness of your arousal coating his fingers…

At Lucerys's hesitation, you smiled condescendingly. "Oh, how rude of you," you teased, your voice dripping with mock hurt. "Don't I even get a kiss before you go exploring?"

Leaning in closer, you caught his chin gently but firmly between your fingers, tilting his face up towards yours.

"Come on, baby brother," you purred, your breath hot against his lips. "Give me a kiss and maybe I'll let you have a little taste…"

You brushed your lips against his in a feather-light caress, your eyes sparkling with barely concealed desire.

Your thumb traced the curve of his bottom lip, coaxing it to part. "That's it, sweetheart. Be a good boy for me," you encouraged softly, your voice low and laden with promise. "Kiss me like you mean it."

Lucerys shuddered, his breath catching in his throat as your thumb traced his bottom lip. His eyes fluttered shut, and he parted his lips, inviting you to deepen the kiss. He had dreamed of this moment for so long, and now that it was finally happening, he was determined to make the most of it.

Pulse racing, Lucerys pressed his lips more firmly against yours, pouring all of his pent-up desire and longing into the kiss. His hands came up to tangle in your hair, holding you close as his tongue shyly brushed against yours.

He moaned softly into the kiss, the taste of your mouth making his head spin with arousal. Your lips moved skillfully against his own, guiding him and coaxing him to be a good, obedient boy.

Lucerys's cock throbbed almost painfully as he lost himself in the kiss, one hand sliding down to grip your hip tightly. His body pressed against your own, the hard length of his erection nestling against your thigh as he tried to get as close to you as possible.

He gasped into the kiss as he felt himself losing control, his hips starting to rock instinctively against your thigh. You abruptly ended the kiss, gripping his hair and yanking his head back.

"Did I say you could hump my leg like a doggy?" you asked, eyes flashing dangerously. Lucerys flushed an even deeper shade of red, looking mortified.

"No, I'm sorry, I didn't mean…" he stammered, trying to regain some semblance of composure.

Your voice turned stern. "I thought you wanted to worship me properly, not just rut against me like an untrained puppy?" you asked pointedly. "Clearly, you need a reminder of your place."

"On your knees, Lucerys," you ordered, your tone leaving no room for argument. "The floor, now. Show your big sister the respect she deserves."

Sitting on the edge of the bed, you spread your legs wide, revealing your needy cunt.

Lucerys knew better than to disobey a direct order from you. He quickly slid off the bed and lowered himself to his knees on the floor before you, his eyes never leaving your exposed sex. He swallowed hard, his mouth going dry at the sight of your wet, glistening folds.

"Like this?" he asked softly, looking up at you for confirmation. His hands rest lightly on your thighs, just above your knees. He was acutely aware of the bulge in his pants, his hard cock straining against the confines of his pants.

"I… I want to please you," Lucerys declared solemnly, his eyes filled with a mix of reverence and hunger. "Tell me what you want me to do, and I'll do my very best to be a good boy for you."

He gazed at your dripping sex, feeling his head spin. The scent of your arousal was intoxicating, and he couldn't wait to taste your essence directly from the source.

You smiled indulgently at your naive younger brother, your fingers playing with his messy hair as you gazed down at him with a mix of affection and amusement. "Aww, you really are just the most adorable thing when you're being this good," you laughed softly.

"I'm not going to stay mad at you, sweetheart. Not when you look at me like that." Your voice was sweet but with an underlying current of domination.

You gave him his first instruction. "Now, I want you to start by kissing up my thighs. Slowly, sweetheart. Take your time and worship every inch of your big sister's legs until you reach the top."

You leaned back on your hands, making yourself more comfortable as you watched Lucerys through lidded eyes. Your perky breasts rose and fell with each breath, drawing attention to your pretty curves.

Lucerys shuddered in anticipation as your fingers played with his hair, a soft moan escaping his lips at your touch. He gazed up at you with wide, adoring eyes, feeling his heart swell with affection and desire.

"Thank you," he breathed out, feeling a wave of relief wash over him. He knew he still had a lot to make up for, but at least he had a chance now.

Lucerys hesitated for a moment before leaning forward and pressing a soft, reverent kiss to the inside of your left thigh. He started at the knee, showering your smooth skin with tender kisses as he slowly worked his way up.

He took his time, just as you had instructed, worshipping every inch of your legs with a mix of innocence and growing hunger. His lips trailed higher and higher, leaving a path of goosebumps in their wake.

Lucerys's hands slid up your thighs as he kissed them, gripping and caressing gently. He could feel the heat of your skin, the way it seemed to burn hotter the closer he got to your aching sex.

Soft whimpers and needy little moans spilt from his lips as he lost himself in the task of pleasing you, his heart racing and cock throbbing with anticipation. He lived for this moment, for the chance to worship his big sister's body as she deserved.

Biting your plump bottom lip, you couldn't help but let out a shuddery moan as Lucerys's soft lips trailed along your inner thighs. Your core clenched around nothing, aching and empty as your arousal drooled freely from your dripping cunt. "Mmmh, that feels good," you breathed out, eyelids fluttering shut as jolts of pleasure raced through you.

You gazed down at your adorable stepbrother through hooded eyes, watching as he worshipped your soft skin with clumsy yet devoted kisses. He was just too goddamn cute, his innocence and eagerness to please you making your heart race.

Lucerys continued his reverent kisses, his lips now inches from your glistening folds. Your arousal coated your pussy lips, making them glisten invitingly. The scent of your desire filled the air between you, making Lucerys dizzy with lust.

He hesitated for a moment, looking up at you questioningly. "B-big sister?" he stammered softly, his voice shaky with nerves and anticipation. "Can… can I taste you now? Please?"

Lucerys's tongue darted out to lick his lips, already tingling with the desire to taste your essence. His green eyes gazed at you pleadingly, silently begging for permission to bury his face between your thighs and feast on your dripping cunt.

Soft, almost inaudible whimpers escaped from between his trembling lips as he waited for your response. The bulge in his boxers was more prominent than ever, the outline of his hard cock straining against the fabric. It ached and throbbed, begging to be freed and buried deep inside you.

"Mmm, go on then baby boy…" you purred, hiking your skirt up around your waist and spreading your thighs wider in a clear invitation, the folds of your aching, empty cunt right in front of his face. "Don't be shy now… I want to feel that tongue of yours exploring every inch of my little hole. Bury your face in your sister's cunt and drink down every drop of my juices like a good boy."

Lucerys licked his lips hungrily at your words, feeling a surge of desperate arousal at your filthy words. He looked up at you with hooded, lust-filled eyes before leaning in, his face hovering inches from your dripping sex.

With a shameless moan, Lucerys closed the distance and dragged the flat of his tongue along your glistening slit, tasting your essence for the first time. The flavour of your arousal exploded on his tastebuds, and he couldn't get enough.

He moaned wantonly into your pussy, gripping your thighs tighter as he began to eat you out with clumsy but enthusiastic licks. His tongue pushed between your folds, lapping up your juices and savouring your honeyed taste.

Lucerys's tongue swirled around your clit, flicking the sensitive bud sharply as he felt you shudder against his mouth. He licked and sucked greedily at your dripping hole, determined to drink down every drop of your nectar.

"Mmm… you taste so fucking good," he mumbled against your cunt, his voice muffled. The vibrations of his words sent delicious jolts of pleasure racing through your body.

You felt a thrill of hunger as she watched Lucerys stumble through his first clumsy attempts to please you. His inexperienced tongue made messy swipes against your dripping folds, occasionally grazing a sensitive spot that had you gasping.

"Mmm, baby boy…" you gasped, tangling your fingers in his hair and subtly rolling your hips against his mouth. "Use more pressure, sweetheart. I need you to work harder than that…"

Soft pants escaped your lips as Lucerys finally honed in on your throbbing clit, flicking and circling the sensitive bud. Sparks of pleasure shot up your spine with each touch of his tongue, building the heat low in your belly.

"Ah! Just like that… oh fuck!" you cried out, feeling a surge of pleasure. Growing impatient with his clumsy attempts, you grabbed both sides of his head with a desperate moan. You started grinding your dripping cunt in rough circles against his eager but inexperienced mouth, chasing the pleasure you craved.

"There's a good boy," you praised breathlessly as you used his face for your satisfaction. "Worship your big sister's pussy just like this, sweetheart. Show me how badly you want to make me cum all over this cute face of yours."

Lucerys whimpered desperately against your cunt, gripping your thighs tighter as he struggled to keep up with your frenzied grinding. Your fingers tightened in his hair, yanking roughly as you rutted against his face, using his mouth for your pleasure.

He could feel your juices dripping down his chin and onto his neck, as he worshipped your pussy with clumsy but eager licks and sucks. Lucerys's cock throbbed almost painfully in his pants, leaking pre-cum at the feeling of your wet heat against his lips.

"Mmph, I'm trying… I'm trying so hard to please you," he gasped out between sloppy licks, his words vibrating against your sensitive flesh. He could feel your pleasure building, your moans and cries spurring him on to suckle your clit harder and fuck your entrance with his tongue.

Lucerys gazed up at you with hazy, lust-filled eyes, silently begging for your release. He wanted to feel your juices flood his mouth, to drink down every drop as he pushed you over the edge. His hips jerked instinctively, seeking some form of relief from the aching hardness between his legs.

Nails digging into Lucerys's scalp, you writhed against his hungry mouth, painting his lips and chin with your slick arousal. "Yes, fuck, just like that!" you cried out, undulating your hips to grind your aching clit against the boy's nose. "Fuck me with your tongue~…"

A shock of raw pleasure ignited through your core as his tongue plundered your entrance, plunging in and out in a desperate rhythm. "Unngh, shit…" you whimpered, back arching as your thighs clenched around his head.

You could feel your climax building fast, your inner walls beginning to flutter and tighten around the slick, wriggling muscle. "Don't stop, please don't fucking stop…" you panted, gripping fists full of hair as you rode his face hard, chasing your rapidly approaching orgasm.

Lucerys doubled his efforts, tongue plunging in and out of your clenching hole with desperate abandon. He felt your walls starting to flutter and tighten around his invading muscle, your juices gushing out to coat his chin and drip down onto his neck. The taste of your arousal was intoxicating, and he couldn't get enough.

"Mmm, yes! Fuck, I'm gonna… I'm gonna…" you cried out, your body tensing and shaking as your orgasm rapidly approached. Lucerys just moaned wantonly in response, sucking your clit harder and fucking your cunt with deep strokes of his tongue, determined to push you over the edge.

With a sharp cry of your stepbrother's name, your body went rigid, your back arching as pure ecstasy exploded through every nerve ending. Your pussy clenched and spasmed wildly around Lucerys's tongue, gushing out a flood of your honey as your climax hit you like a tidal wave.

Lucerys made no move to pull away, greedily drinking down every drop of your release. He held your bucking hips tightly as he licked and suckled your quivering sex, riding out your intense orgasm with you and prolonging your pleasure for as long as possible.

With a sharp gasp, you grabbed Lucerys's head and pulled his face in tight as you rutted yourself against him, muffling his cries of pleasure with your dripping sex. "Oh… ohhh fuck, yes," you panted out, your thighs clamping down around his ears as you rode the intense waves of your climax.

Your gummy walls spasmed and clenched rhythmically around his busy tongue, creaming hard into your younger brother's eager mouth. You didn't care if he could breathe or not, too lost in the throes of your release to think of anything but chasing every last spark of pleasure.

"Mmmfff… ahhh… that's it…" you moaned breathlessly, slowly grinding your hips to draw out the fading aftershocks. Little jolts of electricity still zapped through your nerves.

Finally spent, you released your grip on Lucerys's hair and leaned back slightly, letting him catch a breath. Your chest heaved as you tried to regulate your breathing, a satisfied smirk playing on your swollen, slick lips.

Lucerys gasped desperately for air as you finally released your grip on his hair and allowed him to pull back slightly. He gulped down the mouthfuls of your juices he had collected, the taste of your release on his tongue. His face was glazed with your slick arousal, chin to forehead, and a string of your juices connected his bottom lip to your thigh. He licked his lips with a dazed, lust-drunk expression.

"I… I did well?" he asked softly, hope and a touch of disbelief colouring his tone. He couldn't believe he had made you cum. The feeling of your hot, slick juices coating his face was still overwhelming to the boy.

Despite the hard, aching bulge still straining against his pants, there was a look of pure adoration and devotion on Lucerys's face as he gazed up at you. He knew he would do anything to feel your pleasure again, to worship your body and have you use him for your satisfaction.

"I hope… hope you'll let me do that again," he stammered shyly, his cheeks flushed with a mix of satisfaction and lingering arousal. "Anytime you want, sister. Anytime."

"Oh baby, you were amazing," you cooed softly, gently helping Lucerys up and guiding him to lie down next to you on the bed. You brushed his messy hair back from his flushed face and gazed at him adoringly. As he lay back on the bed next to you, he couldn't take his eyes off your beautiful face, his heart racing at the intimate murmurs and praise.

His heart swelled with pride and affection at your words. He felt himself melting under the adoring gaze and tender touch, knowing he would do anything to make you happy and satisfied.

"Such a good, obedient boy," you praised him warmly, your fingers tenderly wiping the evidence of his hard work from his chin and cheeks. You brought your coated fingers to your mouth and made a show of licking them clean. But his cheeks and chin were still messy with your creamy release, going to lick up his face clean like a kitten.

Lucerys shuddered and bit his lip as he watched you lick your fingers clean, feeling another surge of arousal at the erotic sight. His cock throbbed almost painfully in his pants, the fabric of his underwear damp with pre-cum.

"Th-thank you," he breathed out, his voice rough with desire. He couldn't believe he had the power to make you feel that good, to bring you to such an intense, toe-curling climax.

Lucerys tilted his head up to give you better access as you began to clean the sticky essence from his face with your tongue. He let out a shaky moan when you licked along his jaw, his eyes fluttering shut at the intimate, sensual act.

"I love the taste of your cum," he admitted hoarsely, reaching up to cup your face in his trembling hands.

The damp patch in his underwear had grown, his cock leaking steadily as he imagined fucking you senseless daily, pumping load after load of his hot seed deep inside your greedy cunt.

"Can I… can I kiss you again?" he asked shyly, his green eyes filled with longing as they met yours. "I want to taste your pretty lips…"

"Mmm, of course you can," you giggled, a teasing smirk playing on your lips. "You've been so good for your big sister. You deserve a reward~"

You leaned down, capturing his mouth in a messy, passionate kiss. Your lips moved sloppily against each other, mixing the lingering taste of your arousal with his saliva. Occasionally, you would nip at his bottom lip, tugging on it gently before soothing the sting with your tongue.

You could feel his whimpers vibrating against your lips, spurring you on as you deepened the kiss. Your tongue pushed past his lips, swirling around his own and greedily taking in the combined flavours of your lust.

Lucerys let out a choked moan into the messy kiss, his hands coming up to grip your waist tightly. He kissed you back with clumsy passion, his tongue tangling shyly with yours as he tried to learn the rhythm. The taste of your arousal mingling with his saliva made his head spin with lust.

Pulling back, you gazed down at him with lidded eyes, taking in the sight of his flushed face and kiss-swollen lips glistening with your essence. "Made me feel so good," you praised huskily, reaching down to squeeze the rock-hard bulge still straining against his pants. "I think it's time for you to feel the touch of a girl's hand, sweetheart. Are you ready for that?"

The feeling of your fingers squeezing his aching bulge had Lucerys bucking his hips up desperately, seeking more of that sweet friction. When you finally pulled away, he had to take a moment to steady his breathing, his chest heaving as he gazed up at you with hooded, lust-filled eyes.

"I… yes," he managed to stammer out, his voice pitchy and strained with arousal. "I'm ready for anything you want to give me… please…"

Lucerys's cock throbbed and leaked against the confines of his underwear as if in agreement. He couldn't remember a time when he had ever been this hard, his balls aching with the desperate need for release.

Rolling his hips upwards in a needy motion, he looked at you with guileless, pleading eyes.

Biting your lip, you watched with amusement as your little stepbrother writhed beneath you, utterly consumed by his teenage lust. You couldn't resist teasing him a bit. "Mmm, it looks like someone's excited," you giggled, hooking your fingers into the waistband of his white Calvin's. "I'm gonna take a peek, okay?"

Without waiting for his response, you snapped the elastic band against his sensitive skin. Lucerys let out a choked moan, hips jerking upwards with the sudden stimulation. "Ohhh, sensitive!"

Ignoring his needy sounds, you slowly peeled down his boxers inch by excruciating inch until his painfully hard cock sprang free. You licked your lips at the sight, taking in every detail.

"What do we have here… impressive, Luke." you purred, wrapping your fingers around his thick shaft and giving it a slow, teasing stroke. At your touch, a bead of pre-cum drooled out of the swollen, flushed head. "Mmmm, so hard already… looks like baby bro is alllll grown up now."

He watched, eyes wide and hazy with lust, as you slowly stroked his throbbing length. His cock pulsed urgently against your palm, the skin hot and silky soft, rock hard beneath.

"I… I can't help it," he whimpered, cheeks burning with humiliation and arousal at the praise.

His hips jerked as you stroked him, his member twitching and leaking steadily. The swollen head was a deep, angry red, weeping with the intensity of his need.

"Please, I need…" Lucerys began desperately, before trailing off, unable to voice his pleas. He was too shy, too aroused, too overwhelmed by the new sensations coursing through his young body.

His hands gripped the sheets beneath him, knuckles white as he fought the urge to grab your wrist and demand that you stroke him harder, faster. He wanted to feel your touch all over his aching cock, wanted you to make him cum until he sobbed.

You tilted your head with a playful pout, giving Lucerys a look of mock disappointment. "I'll touch you with just my hand today… I don't know if you could handle my mouth yet," you teased, smirking at his inexperienced reactions.

You had to admit, you were a bit surprised the handsome 19-year-old hadn't lost his virginity already. At over 180cm tall and with his boyish charm, you would've thought plenty of girls would be throwing themselves at him. Then again, the poor thing was so shy and quiet, especially when he wasn't with his beloved older brother Jacaerys. He probably had no idea how desirable he was.

You shook your head and chuckled softly as you wrapped your fingers more firmly around his throbbing cock, giving him a few slow pumps. "But don't worry, sweetheart," you purred, voice low and conspiratorial. "I'll make sure to take gooood care of you…" You flashed him a wicked grin, eager to give your adorable stepbrother his very first handjob.

Lucerys's breath hitched, and his spine arched as your fingers tightened around his shaft, giving him the firm stroke he desperately needed. His toes curled and his thighs clenched, muscles flexing as pleasure sparked through his nerves.

"I… I don't… ah!" he gasped out, eyes wide and cheeks burning at your teasing words. He knew he should protest, should tell you that of course he could handle your mouth, but the words died on his tongue as you pumped his throbbing cock.

Your touch felt so good, so much better than his own clumsy fumbles. He could feel every ridge and vein of his shaft, every twitch and throb as you worked him closer to his peak.

"Please…" Lucerys whimpered, hips rolling up to meet your strokes. He didn't even know what he was begging for anymore, too lost in the new sensations to think clearly. All he knew was that he needed more, needed you to keep touching him until he exploded.

Your wicked grin sent a bolt of lust straight to his aching balls, making them draw up tight against his body. He could feel the pressure building inside him, his orgasm approaching swiftly, as you worked his cock with practised efficiency.

"I'm… I'm not…" he gasped, feeling the telltale tightness in his gut as his climax fast approached. "I'm gonna… gonna…"

You snatched your hand away abruptly, brow arched in disbelief. "Already?" you teased, smirking. "And here I thought I'd have more time to play with this cute cock of yours." You let your gaze drift pointedly over his straining erection, noting how it throbbed urgently in the cool air, the swollen head an angry, desperate shade of red. "Guess you're just too pent up, hmmm? Can't blame my horny stepbrother for being eager though."

Lucerys whimpered desperately as you Suddenly pulled your hand away, leaving his aching cock throbbing and leaking in the cool air. He looked up at you with hazy, pleading eyes, face flushed with embarrassment and unfulfilled lust.

"S-sorry," he stammered, biting his lip as he tried to hold back his impending orgasm through sheer force of will. "I just… I've never… aahh…"

Lucerys squirmed on the bed, the sheets twisting beneath his hips as he fought the urge to grab his own cock and finish himself off. He was so close, teetering right on the edge of his very first climax at the hands of another.

"Please…" he begged softly, voice cracking with desperation. "I need… I need you to touch me again. I can't… I can't hold back much longer…" He gazed at you with wide, vulnerable eyes.

You gaze at Lucerys with a mix of amusement and tenderness, your heart fluttering at his helpless, desperate pleas. Unable to resist his boyish charm and the way his body responded so eagerly to your touch, you lean in close.

"Oh, you poor, pent-up boy," you coo softly, your breath warm against his ear. You let out a sympathetic little sigh. "Alright then, you've more than earned this."

Sitting up, you spat lightly onto his throbbing, flushed cock, watching with a smirk as the saliva trickles down his shaft, glistening obscenely. Making Lucerys let out a choked moan, your spit providing a slick new source of friction as your hand began to pump his cock in earnest.

You wrapped your fingers around him, relishing the feeling of his soft skin, hot and pulsing with need.

Your hands started to move, twisting and pumping his thick length in a steady, purposeful rhythm. You worked him with focused intensity, your grip alternating between firm and teasing as you stroked him closer to his release.

"That's it, sweetheart," you encourage him in a low sultry murmur. "Let yourself go. I want to watch you cum for me…"

"Ohhh god…" he gasped, fingers scrabbling at the sheets as his hips rocked upwards to meet your strokes.

He could feel his release fast approaching as you touched him with purposeful intensity. His stomach clenched, and his balls tightened, the pressure building to an unbearable peak.

"Haahh, yes… yes…" he panted out, eyes squeezed shut as pleasure consumed him. Your words urged him on, spurring him towards his inevitable climax.

Lucerys's breathing grew ragged, chest heaving as he teetered on the razor's edge. His cock throbbed almost violently in your grip.

He couldn't hold back any longer. With a strangled cry of your name, Lucerys came undone. His cock jerked and spasmed as it erupted, painting thick ropes of hot cum all over your pumping fist.

"NNAAHH! Aahhh…" he wailed as spurt after spurt of his release shot out, his young body shaking and convulsing with the force of it. It was his very first time experiencing such intense pleasure, and it overwhelmed his senses completely.

Thick globs of pearly white seed dripped onto his stomach and chest, and some landed on your fingers. Lucerys trembled and moaned throughout the aftershocks, eyes rolling back and toes curling as he rode out the waves of his climax.

As Lucerys came hard, his length jerked and spasmed in your grip, painting your hand and his shirt with thick ropes of hot, sticky seed. The obscene sounds of his release filled the room as you continued pumping his throbbing cock, working him through the intense waves of pleasure that wracked his young body.

"Oh wow, so much cum for such a pretty boy," you purred, watching in amusement as Lucerys's face contorted in pleasure, his eyes rolling back and toes curling. "You really needed that, didn't you sweetie?"

You couldn't help but feel a rush of pride knowing you had brought your adorable stepbrother to such a mind-blowing climax. His spent member gave a weak twitch as the last drops of cum dripped out, and you had to chuckle at how utterly depraved he looked - shirt splattered with his own release, hair mussed, and cheeks glowing a deep shade of red.

Lucerys could only whimper and nod weakly, still dazed and trembling in the afterglow. "Y-yes, thank you…" he managed to stammer out, gazing up at you with hazy, adoring eyes. You couldn't wait to corrupt him further and make this a regular occurrence between you…

Just as Lucerys was coming down from his high, the bedroom door suddenly burst open. Jacaerys stood there, his handsome face flushed and eyes dark with poorly concealed lust as he took in the perverse scene before him - his younger brother's spent cock glistening with cum, your hand coated in the same, and the general air of sexual tension permeating the room.

"Well, well, well..." Jacaerys drawled, a smirk tugging at his lips as he leaned against the doorframe casually. "Looks like someone's having all the fun without me. Thought we were going to share, little brother?"

He stalked closer to the bed, eyes roving hungrily over your curves and lingering on where your fingers were still wrapped around Lucerys's sensitive cock. "It's not fair, leaving your big brother out of the action," he complained, petulance clear in his tone. "I've been wanting a taste of her for ages now..."

Reaching the edge of the bed, he leaned down, gripping your chin and forcing you to meet his heated gaze. "It's my turn next, little sis," he murmured, voice low and full of dark promise. "So you'd better not tire yourself out too much on dear Lucerys here." He said darkly before releasing you and turning to his flushed younger brother with a grin. "Better rest up, Luke. Because I certainly can't wait much longer to bury my cock in our step-sister's tight little holes..."

[mischievousmoony]

I’m blushing so hard at frat boy James!! What about the first time she comes over and meets the guys outside a party

hope i've done your idea justice! ty for requesting

𝚏𝚛𝚊𝚝 𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚎

⟢ frat boy!james potter x fem!reader ⊹ 1.9k ⟢ warnings/tags: references to drinking, technically american!james potter and american!marauders

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

"It'll just take a minute," James promises. "We'll be in and out."

With his hand in yours, he leads you through the door, passing under the large Greek letters as you cross the threshold.

You have been seeing James for a month and a half. You never thought you'd be interested in a frat guy—you've never even step foot in one of their houses until now—but James has proven to be the opposite of what you thought a frat guy would be like.

James is a total sweetheart. Possibly the most thoughtful and genuine guy you've ever dated. He makes you feel special, always remembering the little things like your favorite flower or your drink orders at all your favorite places. He's attentive without ever being overbearing. But honestly, you don't think you could see him that way if you tried, always loving every bit of attention he gives you.

Today, he's taking you on a study date. He remembered that you were complaining about an upcoming exam in a class he's already taken, so he's grabbing his old notes and sitting you down in a quiet corner of the library so that he can help you study.

James would already have you set up in the library on the coziest chair with your favorite hot drink from the cafe if he didn't forget his old notebook in his room—which he felt rather sheepish about leaving behind.

So, here you are. James asked if you wanted to wait in the car, but you were curious to see the inside of one of these things. You half expected to see solo cups littering the floor, a pong table in place of a coffee table, and maybe even a few hungover frat guys strewn about the living room still sobering up from last nights antics.

You were a little surprised to find out that it was rather clean. You know from James that there was indeed a party here last night, but apparently they clean up nicely.

Although, you’re right about there being a pong table. But it is folded up and leaning against a wall for future use.

James guides you towards the stairs, but before he can even mount the first step someone appears in the foyer from a hall that you can see leads to the kitchen.

"Jamesie! Back so soon?" the boy cheers when his eyes land on his friend first. His eyes dart to you a second later, and something like recognition flashes in his expression. "Is this who I think it is?"

The boy has long, black hair that cascades just to his shoulders in soft waves, the kind that look effortless but too perfect to not be styled in some way. He stares at you with piercing blue eyes, making you feel oddly self-conscious, which might also have to do with the big smirk on his lips.

James squeezes your hand, sensing your nerves, but he'd bet money that they pale in comparison to his own. He's been nervous about bringing you around here. It doesn't have anything to do with you, or them (well, maybe he's a little worried they'll scare you off). You're really important to him, and so are they, and he's been putting a lot of pressure on introducing you to them. So, this unplanned visit has his palms sweating, which he's hoping you haven't noticed.

"Sirius," James greets his friend. "Yeah, this is Y/N."

Your eyes widen a fraction when Sirius immediately steps forward, taking your free hand to press a kiss to the back of your knuckles. "Hi, sweetheart, I've heard a lot about you. Truly, a lot. James has talked my ear off about you so I really feel like I'm meeting an old friend. I'm Sirius."

You feel heat rise to your cheeks but you're not alone, as James' own face turns rosy as he mutters a scolding "dude!" at his friend.

"Don't tell me you were just gonna sneak in without so much as a proper introduction." Sirius places a hand over his heart, a dramatic look of utter disbelief painting his face.

"We're just stopping by to get my notes. We have a very important study sesh to get to, didn't want to delay us too much," James explains, rocking back and forth on his heels.

"I promise it'll only be a short detour then. Pete and Remus are the only ones here anyway," Sirius says. His eyes dart to you again, something mischievous swimming within them. "We've all been dying to meet the girl that has our James so smitten. I mean, he's been going on and on and on. It's nice to finally have a pretty face to the name."

At Sirius’ words, you can’t help but crack a smirk as you peer up at James.

“Don’t look at me like that,” James murmurs, now rubbing his thumb across your knuckles the way he does when he gets anxious. James is sure the tips of his ears are bright red. Sirius will go to no end to embarrass him, but despite the fact that his heart might jump out of his chest at any second, James really only cares how you feel about the situation. James tilts his head toward you, lowering his voice to ask, "Are you up for meeting some of the guys?"

"Yeah," you say with a warm smile. "I'd love to meet your friends." And you really would. James talks a lot about them, too. Always reciting some story about all the shenanigans they've gotten into over the years.

You've been able to tell he's been overthinking bringing you to meet them. You get it—you're secure in James' feelings for you, so you know it's nothing personal. Plus, you were really nervous when James met your friends. To be honest, even though they were jokes, you're friends have made digs at frat guys before because of the stigma. You really wanted James and your friends to like each other, and thankfully, they really do and you had nothing to be worried about.

You hope that meeting his friends will have the same outcome and ease some of James' worries.

Sirius provides a generous introduction as you enter the kitchen. "Boys, it seems we have a very special guest in our midst this morning."

There are two guys sitting on kitchen stools who swivel around to greet you.

There's a lanky boy with mousy brown hair whose eyes dart back and forth between you and James before he directs a kind smile in your direction.

The other boy spins around mid-spoonful of a bowl of cereal. He abandons the utensil in his mouth to wave at you, his other hand occupied by the bowl resting in his palm.

Your eyes trail around the kitchen as James introduces you to them. It's rather large, as it would have to be to accommodate the large number of guys you assume live here.

You've also discovered the mess you thought you'd be stepping into. It seems that all of the discarded solo cups and beer cans have already been shoveled into a few trash bags, which are just about ready to burst at the seams as they wait by the back door to be taken out.

"I'm Peter," the boy with the cereal pipes up after returning his spoon to his bowl.

"Remus," the tall one introduces himself. "It's nice to meet you."

"You too," you say. "You know, I've never been in a frat house before. I take it you all live here?"

Remus is the only one who shakes his head. "Not a brother," he clarifies. "Just unlucky enough to have them as my best friends."

"Oh, you know you'd be lost without us," Sirius says, rolling his eyes playfully. "And it's not a frat house, it's a frat home," Sirius says very earnestly. Too add to his dramatics, he pulls Peter into a hug (which nearly makes him fall off his stool) and raps his fist against his back as he pretends to get emotional.

Peter's laughing as he shoves, Sirius off. "Alright, man," he says, swatting Sirius' hand away as he ruffles his hair.

"Sirius had beer for breakfast," Remus informs you to excuse Sirius' behavior.

"Hey, I only had two and I know you're not suggesting I'm a lightweight," Sirius points at Remus accusingly. "Anyway, I was just telling Y/N how often Jamesie muses about her."

Remus clicks his tongue, shaking his head. "Don't tease him too badly, Sirius.”

"It's not like it's not true," Peter shrugs, earning himself a glare from James.

You look up at James. His cheeks have deepened a few shades now as he glowers at Peter. You give his hand a squeeze to attract his attention, the expression on his face immediately softening when he looks at you.

“I think it’s sweet,” you say, encouraging a smile onto James’ lips. He drops your hand, only to wrap his arm around your shoulder and pull you into his side. You nuzzle your nose against his shoulder, looking at him with expectant eyes. He knows what you’re asking for, and would rather hand his friends more ammo to tease him with than deny you, so he gladly plants a tender kiss to the top of your head.

“You two are sickening.” Sirius leans over the counter, propping his chin up with his hand as he sighs dramatically. “It’s adorable,” he adds.

“Wrapped around her finger, are ya?” Peter joins in on the teasing.

James keeps his eyes on you as he responds. “You bet I am.”

You tear your eyes away from James’ sweet gaze to address his smirking friends. “You know, I've heard a lot about you guys too," you say.

Sirius lights up with intrigue. "Oh, do tell."

"Well, Peter must be the guy to go to if you want to have a laugh. Every time James asks ‘Wanna hear a story Peter told me’ I know I’m gonna have to sit through several fits of laughter before he gets to the end of it," you say, nudging James with your elbow who nods along to confirm your story.

Peter puffs up his chest, proud to be known as the funny one.

"Remus," you continue, "I should've known you weren't a brother. James always tells me about how they drag you into things that you have to get them out of. If he hasn't told you before, he's very thankful for you. And Sirius. I think I've heard the most interesting stories about you."

"This should be good," Sirius says, a cocky grin on his face. "I've given James a whole catalog of legendary stories to tell about me."

"My favorite is the one that started with you trying to impress a girl by jumping into the pool from the roof and ended with you in the bushes after you tripped on the gutter,” you say, an air of sweetness in your tone and a smile on your lips.

The confident smirk drops from Sirius’ face and James snorts a laugh beside you. Peter cracks up, and even Remus snickers at the look on Sirius’ face.

"I think you’ve just won over Sirius," Remus says, watching as his grin returns.

“You got me, I can appreciate that,” Sirius says. “Why have you been hiding her from us for so long, James? I like her.”

"Yeah, I like her too,” James replies, squeezing you a little closer into his side. He doesn't bother trying to hide the broad grin overtaking his features. As he looks down at your giggling face, he can't remember what he was so nervous about.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

[yieldtotemptation]

PAROXYSM ft. Mina

mina x male reader smut

part two of strange currencies

16k words

Go ahead, try and pretend like you’re not obsessed.

Like you’re not bothered that it’s been weeks since you had Mina—felt the heat of her body, the silk of her skin, the sweetness of her breath on your neck.

Since you've seen that ass. Had it in your hands, spread her cheeks with your fingers, stretched her wide with your cock and left Mina in tears, crying out—

"God, I can never go back from this."

And it’s not like you haven’t been searching for opportunities; a party you’d both be invited to, another gala, some event with enough plausible deniability for when you inevitably, ‘accidentally’ bump into her again.

But for some reason, nothing seems to align.

You’ll get word that she’s in Korea, basking in a rare stretch of free time, while you’re in Hong Kong, signing deals and making promises of dubious sincerity.

You’ll be rushing to return, already planning out how you’ll steal another taste of her, another touch; only to find out she’s been whisked away again—to Japan, or Brazil, or any one of the countless countries desperate to host her.

Glimpses is all you ever truly get—paparazzi shots, magazine covers, the odd video that passes through the digital ether.

So, yeah.

You let it rest, go through the motions, try to recreate it in the aggregate. There are plenty of pretty faces, eager bodies in your orbit.

But they're all just that: bodies.

Empty shells of what you had. They don’t laugh like her, they don’t keep you on your toes like she can, they don’t look at you with the same hunger.

(They don’t say your name like Mina did.)

—

“So,” is the first word you hear from Mina. Too much time has passed, and you’ve officially given up on any pretences of nonchalance. Decided to get straight to the point with the right people and just get her number. “I guess I’m not the only one who can’t stop thinking about that night.”

“Uncharted territory and all,” you’re repeating, and there’s a beat of silence on the other line.

A deep breath, and you swear you can hear her smile. “Definitely unique.”

It’s well past midnight and you’re tired and you’re feeling unusually vulnerable, so you're admitting things you'd usually keep under lock and key. “It’s been—you’ve been stuck in my head, Mina.”

“I know the feeling,” she sighs. Just the timbre of her voice and there’s shivers down your spine. “The memory alone is still—”

You finish for her, “Vivid.”

“I was going to say really fucking hot, but yes,” she laughs. “It’s helped me through some lonely nights. Remembering how you felt inside me, everything we did together it’s—God, you have no idea.”

“I’d argue I have the entire idea. For one—the stairs,” you’re supplying, grinning to yourself, leaning back in your chair, remembering the way she clung to you. How tight she was around you, how fucking new she felt as you filled her. “You were so fucking gorgeous. Never felt anything like it.”

“And the shower,” she counters, “you had me pinned against the tiles. Couldn’t move without you fucking me deeper. Just stuck with nowhere to go but further down your cock. No one’s ever done that to me.”

“Don’t forget the kitchen,” you add, “We got pretty creative with the utensils.”

Mina giggles. You didn't know she was capable of sounding so girlish. “I’ll never look at a spatula the same.”

It’s getting dangerous, each memory rekindling the flame of a night that you’d tried to convince yourself couldn’t have been as epic as you remembered. Couldn’t have mattered so much.

And yet here you are now, letting Mina stir up thoughts of her cunt gushing down her thighs, her nipples stiffening between your teeth, her ass choking your cock, the look on her face when she came all over you—and you know she’s wading through the very same set of flashbacks.

“Every time I close my eyes, I’m back in that garden. Your hands are all over me, your mouth everywhere—”

“Your cunt on my tongue—”

“Your fingers in my ass—”

“Your fucking moans, Mina—”

“Wait, I need to—”

Mina stops you, and you find yourself releasing a breath you didn't even know you were holding. You think you can hear her; hear the shutting of a door, a lock turning, frantic pacing, the squeak of a bed.

Your eyes close and you're picturing it now—Mina, laid back on pure white sheets, sprawled out like a Goddess. It's all there, crystal clear. Fingers dancing over her collarbones, tracing the delicate line of her neck down to the swell of her breasts.

Teasing herself, running her thumbs over her areola, the skin there a shade darker, a touch more sensitive. Pinching and pulling, peaks hardening into tight buds, missing the roughness of your tongue.

And then going lower, down over her ridged abs and between her toned thighs. Spreading her legs out in an invitation, toes curling into the mattress. Finding herself slick with need, so, so soaked. Dipping down to trace over her folds before sliding right into the wet heat.

Mina gasps. It's not your imagination. She moans into the phone.

You can almost taste her again.

She finds her voice. "Please, keep talking."

—

The first photo comes through the very next day.

You can intuit from the architecture in the background—the steep roofs, the brick exteriors, the gothic towers—she’s somewhere in Paris.

And there’s Mina, flat on her stomach, sheets tangled around her like the aftermath of a hurricane that’s swept through. Smiling at you straight down the barrel of the camera, cutting through the digital space between you. It’s sly and knowing and a little bit wicked, because she knows that it’s not the view of the city behind her that you’re looking at, nor is it even her face, usually so stunningly unavoidable and instantly captivating.

It's her ass.

Plump and round, poking over her shoulder, filling a whole corner of the frame. And you're spotting the indentations where your fingers have sunk in, the stretch of alabaster that your grip turned a shade of pink. A map of memories etched across the curve of her cheeks.

It’s a thousand words in a single photo, a message loud and clear, carefully composed to make you ache. So, you do. You ache.

You save the picture—not because you think you’re going to forget, but because you need to have a piece of her with you at all times.

Something to pull out when the days are too long, too dull. Something to look at when your memories of her aren’t enough anymore.

The photo, you notice, comes with a caption: ‘The only thing missing here is you.’

—

“Stability,” Mina’s telling you nights later, after you’ve spent close to an hour describing to her all the ways you’d like to have her again, like to break her down until she’s just a trembling mess of limbs and cum.

It’s a habit the two of you have picked up; these clandestine calls that come in the dead of night, during those rare occasions you’re in a reasonable enough time zone to talk. You’re actually in the same country this time. The States, but on different coasts, so, close enough.

She’s sending these breathy whispers down the phone; still coming down from her high, from the way her thighs clenched around her own hand, from the way she painted your name onto her skin with her own juices.

Still coming down from you, from the meticulously detailed step-by-step explanations of exactly what you’d do to her if you weren’t thousands of kilometres apart.

“Stability,” you repeat the answer she’s given to the question that’s been burning in your mind for weeks now. It’s certainly a faux pas to ask right after she’s made you cum across your own chest; but it’s late, and tonight’s suite is far too big and much too quiet—the kind of quiet that lets you think too much.

And so you had to ask her. Why was she still with him?

“That’s it?”

“That’s it,” Mina confirms. “I like stability, I like routine, I like knowing what to expect. Means I can never be disappointed.”

“Never be surprised, either,” you point out. She laughs, the sound warm and rich through the speaker.

“That’s never really been a problem.” She pauses. “Until you.”

There’s an alarm bell sounding somewhere, triggered by the way that last syllable curls around the corners of her lips, bounces across fifty different states to land in your ear.

You.

It rattles around your brain, punches you right in the gut. You try to play it off with a chuckle. But you both know what this really is. The desperation, the need. What you do to each other. How much of a fucking mess you’d make together if you had half the chance.

You make an attempt at being casual: “Apologies, then.”

“You kinda fuck everything up for me, you know?” She admits. “I was fine with it all. Leaving all of this as just a fantasy. Living with the boredom.”

“Everything’s boring.”

“Except this.”

You should really be above all this. The pining, the yearning. Having a crush.

It’s unbecoming.

Leave her alone. Leave her to the dream life she’s built up for herself. The career, the boyfriend, the whole shiny package that everyone’s decided she should want. It’d be the rational thing to do.

And yet— “So, what are we going to do about it?”

“I suppose,” Mina says, and once again, you're swearing you can hear her smile through the phone, because this is far from the end of things, “We’ll just have to find some way to scratch this itch.”

—

(It’s an outrageous abuse of power.

But so what? You’re an asshole billionaire, that’s what everyone expects of you anyway.

Besides, compared to your peers, it falls far short of bankrupting entire economies or causing irreparable damage to the Earth’s oceans and atmosphere.

So why not go full tilt and really indulge?

That’s basically the gist of your justification for forcing fate’s hand and manifesting your own ‘accidental’ meeting with Mina.

Still. It’s only a meeting.)

—

“Quite a situation you’ve engineered here,” is Mina’s first quip, as she steps right out of your daydreams and into your office.

Oh, you’ve been thinking of her.

Spent time replaying that night in your mind, revisiting the sight of her bouncing on that staircase, the feel of her soft skin slapping against yours, the sound of her sighs in your ears.

Obsessed over the messages, the photos, the videos she’s sent—how she moves, that coy smile on her face when she knows she’s got your full attention in her grip. All these mesmerising moments captured in high-definition.

And it’s coming back to you now—the waterfall of hair cascading down her shoulders, the red of her lips, the beauty spot on her nose, above her cupid’s bow—a constellation across her face.

(She makes your office feel small.)

“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” you say, aiming for flippant, but missing the mark by a wide margin.

“Mhm,” is all you’re going to get, because you both know better.

She makes herself at home here, taking the long way to your desk. Hips swaying as she runs her fingers over the décor, the lights and the statues, the books and the furniture. Again, fitting right in with the expensive, the luxurious, the exclusive.

You’re not hiding that you’re staring, and she’s not hiding that she knows either.

Mina walks right past you, turns away so you can see the full sweep of her back, the high-waisted skirt that hugs her curves before flaring out at the waist. Eventually, she stops at the floor-to-ceiling window that overlooks the city, the urban sprawl below a far cry from the palatial gardens that backdropped your first encounter.

The sun’s setting overhead. It casts a warm glow over her. Outlines her figure in gold.

You break the silence, "Heard the photoshoot went well."

“Well, you get what you pay for,” is Mina’s second quip of the afternoon. She turns back to face you, leaning against the window frame, a perfect silhouette.

You can almost hear the glass tremble.

Mina asks, offhandedly, “You’ll have to enlighten me—is it standard practice for visitor passes to have access to every floor in the tower?”

“Security must be lacking.”

“Right,” Mina says. “And is it normal in your line of work, for the CEO to handpick the brand ambassadors?”

You shrug. “I like to get my hands dirty.”

“If that’s what they’re calling it,” she responds, smiling now. Pushing herself off the glass and taking a dangerous step forward.

“We were looking to appeal to our Japanese market,” you say, repeating the same lines you fed to your team, to her management, to anyone who bothered to raise an eyebrow. It’s a good lie. “Needed someone refined, someone that depicted class. Aspirational.”

Mina takes another step forward. Heels that make her legs look endless hitting the polished flooring with a click. "So that's how you see me, then."

"Amongst other, less appropriate things," you admit, already completely, hopelessly captivated.

"Let me guess: Stunning?"

"That's one."

“Fuckable.”

“Absolutely.”

“Submissive?”

“Are you asking, or telling me?”

Mina’s eyes dazzle as she closes the distance, rounding your desk and stopping just short of your chair. She waits for you to swivel and face her.

And then she leans forward, so close. Nose brushing yours, breath warm and sweet and familiar. Her hands land on your thighs, pushing your legs apart.

She drops to her knees.

“Telling.”

You can’t help yourself, you press your thumb to her lips, stamping it crimson.

It’s a wicked thing, how Mina’s bottom lip dips, how her tongue snakes out to lick the pad of your thumb clean. You push in deeper, watching as she takes you into her mouth, seals her lips around you and sucks.

How she’s looking at you now—building up this image of Mina; kneeling, the skirt riding up, her panties soaked with anticipation. Dressed like this is just another business meeting—masked in a high neckline and a smile so perfect against your skin.

That's today's game. Dress up.

Professionalism went out the window the moment she walked in—it barely crosses your mind to wonder whether or not she locked the door. You don’t even care.

Mina stops her little show, thumb pops out of her mouth with a wet sound, leaving a smear of red behind. There’s something about Mina, something that can’t be intuited unless she’s right in front of you, inhaling your exhales, smiling up at you like you're the only person in the entire world that matters.

It's like magic—makes everything and everyone else feel like a figment of your imagination.

“You forgot to mention a few other things,” Mina breathes on you, low and warm, priming you for a punchline that you know will send you reeling.

“Like what?”

“Oh, you know,” and she starts unbuttoning her blouse, reaching for the top button then— “How utterly,”

Then the next button.

“Desperately,”

More still.

“Needy,”

All of them.

“I am for your wonderful, perfect cock.”

The blouse opens up, falls away, drifts off her shoulders until it’s blood-red lace and vanilla-white skin.

Fuck.

(Mina’s not from this world, no fucking way. Definitely not human; jury’s out on if she’s some kind of Goddess. Probably something in between, come down from some place where the air is thinner and the lights are brighter.)

Your mouth is dry. “I could never forget.”

Mina’s eyes crinkle at the corners. Lips spread wide. She’s kissing your cock through your pants.

It’s electric. A long, teasing press of her lips that winds you so tight that just the slightest touch, just a single word could set you off.

Her teeth graze the fabric. You throb through the cotton.

“Mina,” you manage, hand dropping to the side of her face. There’s a tremor in your voice that you’re not used to, that you can’t even pretend to hide. Mina’s got you in the palm of her hand—or rather, on the edge of her lips—even though she’s the one on her knees.

“Relax,” she coos, holding her lips against you, deft fingers unlatching your belt, finding your zipper. “Let me take care of you. Let me take care of this cock,” honeyed words slipping out with the same ease that tugs you free, “Get my tongue all over it, take it deep down my throat, be such a good little whore for you—until you can’t think of anything but how much you want me to swallow every drop you’ve got for me, baby.”

You swallow, caress her cheek, “Darling—”

“Shh," Mina hushes, taking your cock into her hand, holding it against her cheek. So damn happy to have it so close to her mouth once again. “Everything you said over the phone. All that stuff about fucking my face, leaving a mess, filling up my throat—I want it all. You’re going to give it to me now, please.”

She doesn’t even look up at you, just so focused on your cock. Kissing around the shaft, and then drawing her tongue in one, slow, dragging lick all the way from your base, right to the tip. It’s gentle, careful, exploratory.

Introducing her lips to every inch of skin along your cock, over your balls, taking her time to stain all of you with the sheen of her kisses. Careful, so careful. Meticulous too, deep in concentration that you can almost feel her thoughts, intuit from the pressure of her lips how much this means to her. How much she needs it.

And it’s as her breath warms the head of your cock that you realise you’ve got a stranglehold on the armrest of your chair, holding it so tightly you could snap it in two. Not like there’s any helping it, nothing to do but brace yourself as she opens her mouth, pink tongue peeking out, and licks you again—longer, slower.

Holding still now, cock balanced on her tongue, fixing you with this stare.

A dare.

(Don’t move. Don’t interrupt. Let her do her work.)

That’s when her boyfriend calls.

Sorry, her partner.

A jarring noise, a slap in the face that breaks the spell. Vibrating atop your oak desk, a violent buzzing through the room—once, twice, thrice.

Mina’s eyes flick to yours. A split second, a single thought shared. There’s laughter on her lips because of course, because why the fuck not, because this is definitely your kind of chaos. You nod. You’re both in on the joke.

The phone’s still ringing, ringing, ringing.

And Mina’s mouth is still on you, tongue tickling underneath, lips wrapping around, before taking you in deep. Right as she accepts the call.

“Hmf?”

—

(A good idea to mention this theory you’ve been brewing for a while, the other reason why Mina still hasn’t broken up with boyfriend.

Because of you.

Because of how much fucking hotter it makes her. The thrill, the rush, putting a blemish on an otherwise spotless record.

And maybe you’re just as guilty—because you want to hear her lie to him too.)

—

“Still working,” is Mina’s deadpan over the phone, somehow keeping a straight face despite how full her hands are with you. She even rolls her eyes. “You know how it is—unreasonable CEOs jumping down my throat for no good reason at all.”

This woman.

Churning lies with such ease that you almost feel sorry for the poor, oblivious soul on the other end of the phone. Almost.

But Mina's too good at all of this. Too good at hiding it all. Too good at everything, really—whether it's singing, dancing, kneeling before you, making your cock disappear down her throat.

Just a slight adjustment in posture, and she’s taking you in deeper. A gentle suck, a swirl of her tongue around the ridge—and oh, the way she’s looking at you, eyes up and so damn full of mischief.

She’s fucking loving this. Loving the way you’re watching her, the way your hand finds her hair as she takes you in, the way you’re fighting to keep your composure. Fighting to keep your breath even and calm and to stop yourself from groaning so loud that it won’t just be her boyfriend, but the whole fucking tower that’s going to hear how much of a slut she is for you.

You can still hear his voice coming through—muted, indistinct—like a ghost, haunting the edges of this pornographic scene you’ve painted together. 

Fuck this guy likes to talk.

“Mhm,” is all Mina has to say to keep him convinced, to let him believe that she’s actually invested in whatever the fuck he’s on about. Keeping him none the wiser that her full attention is on you, her mouth moving up and down, her eyes glued to yours, watching every twitch, every drop of pleasure that flits across your face.

She reaches up with her free hand, wrapping it around the base of your cock. Gliding along your shaft in this twisting movement that sets your nerves alight.

Everything’s just so tight—her grip, her throat, your own breath in your chest.

“Mhm,” again, longer, sounding closer and closer to a moan than a casual agreement, but still, she’s playing the part. Barely listening to what he’s saying, because she’s doing this thing with her tongue—right at the tip, flicking it around your slit—that’s making you test the strength of your chair.

There’s temptation here—her mouth so warm, so wet—it would be so easy to grab a fistful of her hair and fuck her mouth like you know she wants. But you keep your cool, keep your hand gentle and steady atop her head, let her dictate the rhythm.

And when you hear the voice over the phone rise, maybe a bit of frustration or concern, maybe the start of something suspicious, Mina shamelessly pops your cock out of your mouth and answers, “Just having a snack. Late lunch break.”

She hits the mute button.

Bows her head deep, savouring each inch as she takes you deeper, making this fucking sound when your cock hits the back of the throat. Wet, gagging, sloppy noises that build this tension right at the base of your spine that leaves you aching, absolutely desperate to just give her more.

She holds herself there, choking so nicely, so sweetly, on your cock. Her eyes start water, it’s an effort to keep them open, but she’s still smiling through it all, just so delighted to finally taste what she’s been dying to have for weeks.

You’re struggling, “Fucking hell, Mina.”

Mina giggles into your cock, vibrating along your shaft. Pulls her head back; just a rope of spit that connects the two of you, glinting under the fluorescent lights. A poke of her tongue has her scooping it all up and slurping it all down, smacking her lips with a satisfied ‘ah’.

She unmutes.

“Sorry, it just tastes really good. Like nothing I’ve had before.”

There’s a confused murmur coming out of the speaker, a perturbed, “Really?”

“Like you wouldn’t believe,” and Mina has the gall to wink at you, the audacity to keep her hand on your cock, stroking it like it’s the most normal thing in the world. All the while she just chats to her boyfriend—partner, again—like you’re not about to cover her face with your entire load.

“Mina,” you let slip when she squeezes too hard, cranes her head to feel the weight of your balls on her tongue. Lapping away, licking and tonguing and teasing, until you’re gritting your teeth, holding back the moan that wants to break free.

The voice at the end of the line crackles, “Who’s that?”

Mina doesn’t miss a beat, “Boss for the day,” presses a wet kiss onto the head of your cock in a futile attempt to still you, “Really pushing me hard, making me work for it, you know?”

The voice relaxes, but not enough. “What’s going on over there? Something doesn’t sound right.”

“Everything’s perfect.” Mina’s just so pleased with herself, tongue dancing up and down, over and around, making the chair creak from the reflexive jerk she forces out of you. “I’m exactly where I need to be.”

“I told you that you shouldn’t do these types of jobs, you should listen to me and—”

“Get on my hands and knees and beg them to let me break the contract?” Mina smirks up at you, lips all smeared and messy with your arousal. “I can handle it” she continues on, dragging her lips to your base so she can slur into your waist, “I’m a professional. This is what I’m built for.”

God, he really doesn't deserve her.

He drops the subject so easily, moving on to talk more about him, about his schedules, his work, his boring fucking existence outside of her. And now you’re both rolling your eyes, sharing this secret, this ridiculousness that’s got you both on the edge of laughter and utter bliss.

Mina ups the ante, mutes her side of the call, and places the phone back on top of the desk.

You cock an eyebrow. “Seriously, him?”

She shakes her head. “No, just you.”

And she shows you, proves her point, because Mina’s not one for half-measures. Holds your cock tightly, strokes it again and again, one after another like it’s counting down to something explosive. Bomb’s ticking: the pressure’s building, the heat is coiling in your balls, but she keeps it steady, keeps it slow, keeps it right on that edge where it’s just enough to keep you there, but not enough to push you over.

“I’m just yours,” Mina hums, licking her swollen lips. “I’m yours to do with as you please, but,” she pauses, so she can jerk you just right, stroking with such finesse that you can't believe she's ever been with someone who didn't appreciate it, "I'm really hoping you let me swallow your cock now."

“You’re too fucking greedy.” 

Mina nods so earnestly.

So you give her what she wants, because what’s the point of playing this game if she isn’t going to win? 

You stroke the back of her head, guide her as she takes you all the way—nose to stomach, swallowing you up like you’re her favourite snack, her favourite secret. Her favourite lie to tell herself.

Fucking ridiculous. Too fucking much.

You lift your hips, leaving her to yank down your pants over your knees and to the ground. The clank of your belt buckle against marble echoes through the room, a starting gun to your undoing.

The phone’s still there, he’s still talking, a vaguely muffled annoyance. Mina doesn't even spare it a glance, just looks up at you, mouth full, eyes declaring:

‘Ignore everything else, just enjoy me.’

Fuck.

Mina’s cheeks hollow, her throat pulses, and gone is the usual effortless grace that she carries through everything she does.

No, she’s all raw, all passion. Sloppy now, greedy, showing you just how much she’s willing to do for you. It’s in the way she’s using her hand to squeeze the base of your shaft, the way she’s bobbing her head faster and faster.

Filling the room with the sounds of her slurps and smacking of her lips; her eyes watering with every deepthroat. Making her mouth this perfect, wet, hot little cave that’s swallowing you whole.

And you’re watching, watching every single move she makes. Unable to do anything else, really. Unable to think, to speak, to do anything but stare at her mouth, her eyes, her hand moving up and down, up and down—stare at Mina giving herself over to you.

“Jesus—fuck—” and there’s your voice back again, so much louder than you intended.

But Mina’s smiling around your cock, eyes still on you, urging you on, putting you under her spell. She’s playing with your balls now, her thumb brushing over the sensitive skin, her nails lightly scraping, and it’s like she’s got every button mapped out, knows exactly how to make you go off the deep end.

"Mina, you're just so," you try, rummaging through your addled mind for the right words to pin on this storm before you, "so fucking good at this," you finally settle on.

Mina's eyes light up, triumphant. Deep pools of brown swirling with all sorts of things—few that can be said out loud and even fewer that should ever be thought—and none of which she gives a flying fuck about.

Your cock slides off her lips long enough for her to slur, "Flattery gets you everywhere, sir."

“Mina.”

She's just so happy with it all—it's a little unsettling. Mina, all elegance and poise, so fucking giddy at the opportunity to debase herself at your feet.

She takes a breath, a real one, not the shallow, desperate ones she’s been taking for the past few minutes, and then she’s diving back down. You can see the determination in the set of her jaw, the way she’s holding herself in place with one hand on your thigh so she can devour you whole. And she’s doing a phenomenal job, really, because your cock’s so hard it’s almost painful, and your thighs are trembling with the effort of keeping still.

But she’s not done yet, Mina’s never done. She reaches behind her, unclips her bra with a flick of her thumb, slipping it off her shoulders—a silent, unnoticed escape.

Perfect little tits, perfect little dusky nipples, peaked and ready for your attention. 

She takes one in her hand, rolls the nub between her fingers, playing with it, plucking it like a guitar string, making it sing. Making sure you’re still looking, while she's still sucking you off with her mouth, still fucking grinning around your cock.

A true masterclass in multitasking.

Her other hand stays on you, working in tandem with her mouth. A stroke for every bob, a squeeze for every moan, and she’s whining into your skin, a muffled—mmph, mmph, mmph—so loving that you know it’s not just for show.

Her hand drops down, slipping between her legs, disappearing into the fabric of her skirt. You can’t quite see it, but you know by her sigh as she leans into your thigh, by the way her other hand pinches her nipple harder, that she’s pressing up and into herself.

The fabric’s too thick to see much, but you can imagine her—fuck, you don’t have to imagine—you can almost feel her, her fingers sliding into her wetness, her palm cupping her mound, her middle finger circling her clit like it’s the head of a tiny drum, matching the same rhythm that’s been driving this whole spectacle.

“Your fucking mouth, Mina.”

The words leave you on a groan, a tightening of your grip on her head as she just plays and plays. Every suck pure heaven, warm, wet, utterly divine; pulling your hips closer and closer off the edge of your seat, until you’re nearly falling down her throat.

But even Mina, for all her skill and polish, can’t hold out forever. The fingers at her cunt, the kneading of her own tits, the gagging around your cock, the oblivious boyfriend still blissfully unaware of the depraved scene unfolding on the other end of the line.

It’s a heady cocktail, and she’s had too much too quickly. Her throat’s tightening around you, rogue tears are sliding down her cheeks, and it’s about time that you both give up on pretence and hurtle straight to the crux of this entire escapade.

You stand, rising to your feet before Mina has you tumbling off your chair, sliding your cock out of her chasing lips.

“Mina,” you breathe, voice full of gravel, heavy.

Mina’s frozen, just staring at your cock dangling above her nose, her mouth open and wet, her big, brown eyes begging for its return to her lips.

“Mina,” you repeat.

“Mmm?”

“I want to fuck your face now.”  

Mina licks her lips. “Want to?”

“I will.”

“Please,” she says, a single word like a hot knife slicing through whatever restraint you have let. And you’re just about to lose it, really fucking lose it because she’s so fucking eager, so fucking hot for it, so absolutely fucking yours.

In your office, at your desk, kneeling at your feet, skirt rucked up around her waist, panties drenched.

She ties up her hair into a messy bun.

“Please, use me.”

A twist of your hips has your cock slapping against her cheek, the sound bouncing off the walls, leaving a trail of gloss across her flushed skin.

Mina laughs.

You lean down, grab her hair, thread your fingers through the strands, and guide her lips to where they were made to be.

“Christ,” is ripped from your throat as your cock is back down hers, plunging into her mouth like its home.

You push, push until her nose is squished against your pelvis, holding her there; her throat tight against your cock, her hand working her clit in double time. Whimpers escape past her lips, muffled whines that threaten to break you if you’ll let it.

But you don’t, not yet. You pull out, just long enough to let her gasp for air, only, she doesn't need the respite. She just blinks, and begs—

“Again.”

And again. And again.

Until she’s a writhing mess, until she’s shaking with the effort of holding herself together, until you’re plunging into her mouth so fast that you’re truly fucking her throat.

Deep, harsh strokes that make her cheek bulge, that fuck tears from her eyes. And Mina fucking loves it. Loves every second of it, loves having her head thrown back, her throat working for you like it’s your divine right, like her sole purpose in life has been to take your cock.

You’re fucking her face like you said you would, like she’s been begging you to do for weeks, whispering sweet nothings and filthy somethings into your ear during those late-night phone calls. Giving exactly what she’s been craving, exactly what she’s been dreaming about when she fucked herself so nicely for you to hear.

And she’s just taking it, letting you use her mouth like it’s nothing, because to her, it’s everything.

She’s lost in it, her hand a blur between her legs, her eyes glazed over. She’s so close, so fucking close, and she’s taking you with her; dragging you down into this pit of depravity that she’s been keeping warm for you.

“Mina?”

And there’s the phone again. Louder now, insistent, demanding. Finally noticing somethings not quite right.

"Mina?"

There’s panic in Mina’s eyes—but you’re quick to realise it’s not worry for him. It’s desperation for you. For you to keep going, for you to not notice, for you to keep the fantasy alive.

But you do notice. And it just makes you harder.

You're too far gone now—you're thrusting into her mouth with a fervour that’s almost violent. Mina’s eyes widen, but she doesn’t pull away. Instead, she takes it all, letting you fuck her face with a reckless abandon that’s only heightened by the voice on the phone getting louder, more concerned.

You’re the only voice she’ll listen to now. “Hold still for me, Mina.”

Her eyes go wide, and she nods, her mouth stretched wide around you. Cradling her cheeks, just firm enough to feel the heat of her blush.

“Mina, why are you muted?”

She’s barely even on this planet anymore—just bringing herself closer to the edge, loosening these ragged, wet moans around your pistoning cock.

“Mina, are you ignoring me again, seriously?”

“Mmph—fuh—mmph—” is her attempt at an answer, but she’s too busy letting you use your mouth, too busy fucking herself on her fingers, too busy being the perfect little slut she’s told you she wanted to be.

It fills the room—the sounds of wet, sloppy sucking, careless fucking, your own grunts of pleasure. And somewhere in the background, that voice getting more and more insistent.

“Mina, say something, answer me!”

And she does. Just not to him. She says it to you, mouth full, eyes on yours.

Garbled, stuttered, fucked-up little pleas— “there—there—please—please—oh my god—"

Her hand moves faster, her throat seizes, her eyes roll back in her head. Her body jerks, her hand still working her clit, her mouth still full of you.

Mina cums at your feet, a terrible, beautiful orchestra of noises—moaning, gurgling, gagging around your cock. Swallowing, desperate for a breath of air, trying not to choke, eyes watering so badly it’s a surprise she can see you at all.

You pull out, so abruptly that she gasps and stumbles a little. And yet, despite it all, despite how brutally hard and fast her orgasm hits her, she’s still smiling up at you, as graceful and gorgeous as ever.

So fucking proud of herself.

And she’s not done yet. She’s never done, not really.

Her hand comes up to catch you, holding your cock like an anchor, keeping you ready as she takes a moment to recover. The other reaches for the phone, a shaky hand bringing it to her lips, level with your own tip.

She takes a breath. She’s going to answer.

She unmutes again.

“Sorry. Can’t talk. Gotta finish something big.”

“Mina—what the fuck are you—”

Mina gives you that look—that nod.

Sucks you in one last time, gives you a final choke. A desperate gag, a deep impossible swallow down her throat. And then she releases you from her lips.

The phone clatters to the floor, forgotten.

“Cum for me, please, baby.”

At her instruction, you're erupting.

Mina captures the head of your cock with her lips, keeps it balanced on the edge. Uses both hands to twist and wind around your shaft. Overwhelming you, seizing you into her mouth because this is exactly what she’s been starved for.

Breaking a fucking dam inside you, flooding her mouth with your cum, completing her with your taste. It hits the back of her throat, thick and hot and she swallows and swallows and swallows.

So fucking grateful for every drop, for every pulse that shoots into her mouth, coating her tongue, sliding down her throat. She’s drinking you down like water, like air, like she can’t get enough of you, leaving you breathless until all you can do is just repeat her name over and over again—an endless chant of “Mina.”

And when you’re finally done, when every nerve-ending in your legs isn’t burning down and threatening to take you with it, you pull out of her mouth, gasping for air.

Mina just sits there.

Looking up at you, naked chest heaving, nipples stinging red. Cum slipping out the corners of her mouth, staining her chin. Skirt ruined, panties a sodden mess around her ankles. Hand still on your cock, coaxing you to peace.

And fuck, it’s the hottest thing you’ve ever seen.

With a smile that could melt the coldest of hearts, Mina reaches down to the floor and picks up the phone. She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, not even bothering to be delicate about it.

"Hey," she says, voice miraculously calm and collected. "Sorry—got distracted."

You watch, utterly stunned, as she plays the part of the girlfriend so flawlessly, puts on an Oscar-worthy performance. You can hear the boyfriend's voice, frantic and worried—and completely fooled.

But then she looks at you, clears her throat, and her smile goes wide, and you can see the woman beneath the façade. The woman who's had enough of being bored. Who's decided that she's owed the impossible fantasy.

Kneeling on the floor, yet more powerful than ever.

So, so fucking perfect.

Spreading her thighs, fingers back at her cunt, carefully toying with her clit. Building herself back up to that peak she’s just thrown herself from, because apparently, that’s what you’ve taught her to do.

To never settle, never stop, never be satisfied with just one taste.

You’re cock throbs.

“Mina, you need to tell me what the fuck is going on.”

Her hand moves faster, her thumb circling and pressing, her middle finger slipping inside herself. You can see the gleam under the artificial lights, how her cunt’s making everything sticky and messy.

Making herself nice and ready.

“There's a big mess here,” she says into the phone, all sugary sweet, a perfect story that drips from her tongue like molasses. “Lot of clean up. It’s ruined me—ruined the whole job. It’s gonna keep me here all fucking night.”

—

(It’s just an arrangement.

That’s what you’re calling it when the moon’s rising over your office, and Mina’s kissing these promises over your heart, drawing up the terms of this unwritten contract that neither of you can really commit to—even though you're both well aware of how much you want to.

Sex, as an agreement. Sex, as a release. Sex, because you’re both fucking incredible at it.

It just might be everything you both need.

You're both just too afraid to be the first to say it out loud.) 

—

Weeks later, and you get really fucking good at making time for her.

Whether it’s fifteen minutes at a party, a couple hours at an airport, or a few nights spent in a hotel room with the curtains drawn and a do not disturb sign nailed to the door—everything starts to fall into place.

There's always an empty room to be pulled in to, a shadow to be claimed, a corner of the world that belongs to you.

It’s Mina, straddling you in the backseat of a limo, her cunt tight around you as the city lights slide by. Your hand on her throat, not choking but guiding, a conversation based on pressure and pleasure alone. Her tits bounce in your face, begging for your teeth, and you give it to them, biting down until she’s gasping your name into the leather upholstery. The chauffeur pretends not to notice. You don’t pretend anything.

It's you, bending her over the bathroom counter of some stranger’s house, her rather business-like slacks down at her feet to expose the bare, wonderful convex of her ass. You spank her until she’s crying, until she’s bright red and demanding that you make good on your promise to fill her up so she can’t leave this party without globs of you leaking down her legs.

It’s hotel beds that have seen too much, office desks forced to bear your weight, dressing rooms with the door locked tight.

It’s the way she looks at you when she thinks no one’s watching, the way she says your name. How she laughs, how she teases you, how she lets you in—just a little, just enough to keep you hooked. And you do the same.

It’s sex, but it’s not just sex, no matter what you tell yourself.

And it’s Mina again, fixing her hair while you zip her into something far more appropriate, already mentioning, “I'm going to be in New York next week, if you're in the area—"

And it's you, answering in the same way that you always do, "I’ll find a way."

—

Serendipity finds the two of you in Shanghai, amidst all its concrete jungle and neon lights, kept at bay by the soundproof windows and the drawn curtains of this hotel room turned temporary sanctuary.

Mina's stretched out on the bed, wearing one of your shirts that swallows her up to her knees, her hair a mess of curls and knots that she hasn't bothered to tame. Nose buried in a book—something thick and weighty Nayeon recommended her.

Paying no mind to you, as you’re busy brewing tea in the kitchenette (piping hot, oolong, how she likes it).

You sneak a glance as you wait for the kettle to boil, at the perfect picture she's composing—her bare legs peeking out from the shirt, the soft curve of her waist, the way the light from the bedside lamp casts shadows across her skin.

It's seeing her like this, far more exposed and naked than minutes ago when she was pinned beneath you wearing nothing at all, draining your cum into her cunt and thanking you for the privilege.

The drawbridge is coming down, guards leaving their posts—just the two of you in your stolen moments.

It's nice.

She catches you staring.

Tilts her chin down, peering at you over her glasses.

You ask, "Am I distracting you?"

"Always," she says, and it's loaded with the sum of whispered secrets and inside jokes, the weight of a dozen different glances stolen across crowded rooms. She closes the book, setting it aside, and pats the you-shaped imprint on the spread next to her. "Come here."

You bring a steaming cup over, handing it to her, adding a little more warmth to her side of the bed. An unneeded murmur of thanks, a smile that's brighter than any of the skyscrapers gleaming outside, and a careful sip.

You wait for her review.

A cool, clear, "Ah."

And as for your reward, she sets the mug down on her lap, closing her eyes and pursing her lips. Waiting, patiently.

It's built in you like a habit now—lean in, get the light peck you're owed. Gentle press against her lips, nose bumping up against her glasses, sweetness that makes her cheeks flush a lovely shade of pink.

Just so fucking cute and domestic that it almost feels wrong.

The normalcy, you're realising—doing something that millions of other people do every single day—kisses that aren’t about fucking, power plays and games. Kisses that are just...kisses.

Mina's on the same wavelength, that's her thing now. Looking at you with a slanted smile. A little disbelieving, a little amused.

You're sure you're mirroring it back.

“This is... weird, right?” You finally say, breaking the silence. Feeling the weight of the question, the implication of what you’re really asking. Is this okay? Is it allowed? Can we put a name on this without the whole world imploding?

Mina's smile doesn't falter. "Kinda," she says, and her hand's slipping into yours, her thumb tracing little circles against your palm. “Very. But also, good.”

You nod, not quite believing it. You've had relationships (is that what you're calling this now?)—but none of them felt like this. Like, sure, she makes you hard, but fuck if she doesn't make you weak.

Pulling you into this loop of familiarity, learning things about her that you would've dismissed if it was anyone else. Not just the carnal things—the ones that make her thighs run with need, that make her chant your name like it’s the only word she knows.

Normal people things. Snack addictions, sleeping habits, temperature controls.

The mug goes to the bedside table, and Mina twists her body into yours, landing her head on your lap and curling her legs up so they stay on the bed.

"You know," she says, still holding your hand, fingers tracing up your forearm now, nails drawing in a light tattoo. "I thought that this wouldn't work out."

You mention the obvious. "Because you still, technically, have a boyfriend?"

Mina stretches herself out against your waist, incidental movements that just so happen to make you stir. "No, darling," she's saying, turning to look at you, making your heart stutter. "It's because you're you. Relationships just don’t seem to be in your nature."

You feign injury.  

Even though, truth be told, she has a point there. You’ve never been one for the quiet moments, for the mundane comforts, mornings next to someone you spent the night with.

Maybe it's your own guardrails you've put up, maybe it's some sappy Trojan Horse she's pushed through the gates of your stoic heart—but here you are, stroking her hair while she holds your hand, your fingers playing with the soft strands like you're trying to learn Braille.

"You know," she says, reaching it out to run her thumb down the line of your jaw, "guys like you are all the same."

You arch a brow. "I think I’ve heard this one before.”

"Let me finish," she says, "Obsessed with the thrill of the chase, with the idea of something you can't have. And when you finally get it, you just...disappear."

She grants you the headspace to ruminate over that one. 

"Are you saying I already have you?"

"Haven’t figured it out yet?" she whispers, shifting her weight on the bed. Another Mina special, the incidental movements, shirt pulling taut against her, and with benevolent grace, it slides down an inch. The swell of her breast revealed, an already pebbled nipple peeking out. A shy secret. As if.

And she knows. Mina knows what it takes to turn you on because, deep down, she’s the same. Different animals, same beasts, the roles could easily be flipped: her the billionaire, you the idol, and it would still end up the same.

You’re both chasers of thrills, craving the high of the untouchable, the unattainable.

Doing whatever it takes to feel alive—that's what it boils down to, isn't it?

"I meant it, you know," you're saying, exposing yourself, all gooey and raw. "Never once dreamt of owning you."

It's obvious where Mina's headed with this. So used to people just laying claim of her without even asking—like it's their fucking right. Believing that just because she’s in their vicinity, smiling all pretty and dressed up, she's fair game. Thinking the fame has done to her what it's done to so many others, turned them into commodities.

And maybe she's let them believe the fantasy, it's her job after all, to fuel the delusion and make it feel real. But never once did she truly belong to anyone but herself.

And yet, and yet, and yet.

Mina lifts herself off your lap, body bowing, leaving the shirt to ghost down her arms and leave her chest bare.

Closer still, until she's straddling your hips, thighs pressing down on either side of your legs, and oh, mystery solved, there was nothing under the shirt but her.

And again, Mina, on the subject of your title over her: "Not even if I wanted you to?"

—

(It takes the length of a phone call for Mina to be officially yours.

Brutal in her efficiency, cutting the guy down and pushing him off the cliff of the inevitable.

You're just as cruel, laughing between her thighs as she slurs vague platitudes, barely encroaching on an apology, uncaring bullets flying across borders.

And then the 'I can't' when prompted for a chance to negotiate, an 'I'm busy' when the pleas come, and a final 'just fucking give up already' when the desperation gets too much and he's becoming less and less important the further your tongue gets into her cunt.

Poor bastard doesn't even know he's not the only one getting fucked.)

—

You feel like you’ve earned the right to be a tad more reckless.

So, dates.

Conventional, yes, but fuck you could do with some of that now. You had the money, the power, and now you had the girl. So, secret dates, grand gestures, the whole nine yards.

And yet, each one was its own little disaster.

An example: the restaurant.

Michelin stars, gourmet courses, over-the-top bullshit that you unashamedly love. Booking out the entire joint for the night, only for it to all go haywire when Mina showed up in that dress; tight, tiny, black.

"Eyes up here, darling," is what she said, before, "Or, you know, don't. I like the attention."

Just fucking you all the way up, having you pushing her into a backroom before the wine was even poured. Ruining said dress, rucking it up to her waist, making it some poor drycleaner’s problem.

“I was never big on grand gestures,” she assures you, as you pepper her neck with kisses, hands curving around to her breasts on sheer instinct.

"Wish you'd told me that in advance."

"And miss out on this?" Mina groans something fierce when your fingers find purchase. “Never.”

It's just Mina and you, doing what you've done a dozen times over by now, having long blown past any insecurities that this might just be too good, too perfect, that one of you might be the first to bolt for the door and run.

“I swear to god,” Mina’s managing, as you’re shoving her panties to the side, because you’re both well aware that this has to happen right here, right now. “This cock is going to be the death of me.”

You chuckle against her throat. “Wouldn’t be a bad way to go though, right?”

“You’re insatiable.”

“Says you.”

“Please, just—”

Your hips snap into her. She flinches. Screams your name so fucking loud.

Each and every one of the kitchen staff receives a very, very sizeable tip.

—

It becomes a problem.

Oddly enough, neither of you are at fault.

Leaked photos light up every website, tabloid, and social media platform in mere minutes—Mina and her ex, wrapped up in each other’s arms, the unmistakable blur of a bedroom in the background. Nothing too lurid, nothing too explicit—but just enough to get the world to gasp in collective shock.

The fucking coward did it. You never knew he had it in him.

Sure there's dating on the pictures. Years, probably, back to when their happiness couldn't be called into question, but it does its job.

The statements pointing this out do little to shift the public's attention though, they've already latched on to the chance to rip apart her spotless record. You’ve seen it before, a hundred times with a hundred different celebrities. The cycle of love turned to dust in the blink of a camera flash.

And yet despite all of this, despite the shitstorm that’s swirling around her, despite the radio silence you're expecting, not an hour passes before Mina's calling you again.

“I need you.”

“Then come over.”

—

Mina belongs here, it’s so obvious.

Walking through the rooms of your home like she’s always been there, like she’s what’s been missing.

None of the art on the walls, the books on the shelves, none of the sculptures worth more money than any person should ever see in their life—none of it make as much sense as she does here, in your space.

Ours, you’re already thinking.

While you’re staring at her, she’s taking it all in—every detail of your domain, eyes brushing over the aged furniture and modern finishes, each aspect of your home that you’ve curated as meticulously as you’ve cultivated your own reputation.

She doesn’t say a word about whatever conclusion she’s drawing—because she’s not the type to judge—she’s just curious. She’s always been curious.

And then she’s in your arms.

Hands looping around your neck as you hold her tight, like it’s been years instead of the mere days since you’ve seen her. Since you’ve felt her heat, heard her whimpers, felt her nails dig into your skin like she’s trying to slip in underneath.

“It was inevitable, right?” She whispers against your collarbone. “Something was bound to fuck this all up eventually. My life, yours. It was all too perfect.”

You hold her tight. Letting her sink into your embrace, disappear into your chest. She’s so small in your arms—not that she’s ever not been, but right now, it’s stark. Like she’s shrunk, folded herself into something more manageable, something easier to hide. Something that won’t be torn apart by the teeth of the media and the rabid fans.

Kiss the top of her head to make her relax a fraction, opening a pressure valve that releases a shaky exhale.

You point out, “It still is.”

Mina blinks up at you, and you pretend you don’t see the dampening in the corners of her eyes. “I need to do the whole apology tour now. Keep my head down, hide my face. That’s what they’re saying anyway. What they expect.”

You shrug. “Could hide out here.”

That makes Mina smile, laugh even, colouring her features with something far more impactful than any of the decor. “And, I'm guessing, fucking each other’s brains out from sunrise to sunset?"

"There'll be a couple of meals in between. You may be surprised to learn I make a mean bowl of ramen."

Mina laughs again, and it’s the sweetest sound in the world—like the chiming of a bell that’s only meant for you. She looks at you, really looks, and you can see the wheels turning in her mind, the genuine consideration she's giving your proposal.

“What do you say?”

“I—”

Before she can finish, you add, “I can handle our little problem. Just leave it to me.”

Mina blinks. There’s the curiosity again. “Handle?”

“Yeah,” you reply, vaguely amused. Something darker in the back of your throat. “I know some people. Nothing out of the ordinary.”

Mina stares at you aghast, the smile slipping from her lips. Wondering if she might have missed something in the reality of the billionaire with a silver tongue and a penchant for ruining dresses.

It’s your turn to laugh. “I’m kidding, Mina. Jesus, the look on your face. I’m not going to have the guy killed.”

Mina rolls her eyes. Slaps your chest with a little more force than intended.

You add, with a Disney Villain-worthy ominous tone, “For now.”

“You ass,” she says, but she’s smiling again, the tension all but dissipated.

“Not even I’m capable of having that sort of thing arranged. Well, maybe I am, just never tried, so—” you begin, only to stop immediately at the curving of Mina’s lips. “I was just planning on doing a bit of spin. Tap some of our PR Wizards, maybe offer the wolves something juicier. Whitewash the whole thing—shut him down.”

And a cherry on top of your whole plan—

"Make him wish I'd kill him instead."

Mina’s expression shifts, taking pause to study your face, your words. It’s the pragmatism that gets her, you think—but it’s baked into who you are. You don’t get to a billion dollars by making friends.

As a point of clarification, she asks, "What are you going to offer the press? I mean, you’re not going to leak dirt on someone else, are you?"

You shrug, an easy smile playing on your lips, "I was thinking we could just go public with us. Offer our whole thing."

"You're serious, aren't you?"

"My jokes usually make you laugh."

Mina takes her time to ponder this, to consider what you’re actually saying. To process the idea of turning all this—the sneaking around, the private moments, the stolen kisses—into something so exposed. Something translated and made palatable for public consumption, to be picked apart by the vultures skirting the edges of the media.

And there’s fear there too. That the thrill could wear off for her again, the exhilaration could evaporate, and the boredom would settle in.

Or it could be a whole brand-new opportunity. Replacing one thrill with another, the rush that comes with being seen together, the excitement of the chase being replaced with the passion of the capture.

She asks, slowly, carefully choosing each word, doing her best to avoid setting off a bomb that could send this whole thing into a downward spiral. "Is this what you want to do?"

You pull her closer, fit her body flush against yours, and bring your lips down onto hers. You let them linger, let her sigh, let her melt and keen and smile against your mouth.

"Darling," you murmur against her lips, "I've been ready to tell the whole world since the moment I sat down next to you."

—

Sometimes, the conventional ways are the best.

Stumbling through your house—kissing her hard in the hallway, losing her skirt in the kitchen, tearing off her shirt at the top of the staircase. Carrying her past the threshold of your bedroom and leaving her panties at the door; truly letting her into your world in every way, shape, and form.

Holding her close, one hand at her waist, the other looping around her chest. Kissing into her neck as you lay her down onto your mattress, getting up close and personal until it’s all Mina, all the sweetness and heat of her, the richness of her perfume that’s become her signature.

The red of her blush, her lips, the marks you’re leaving on her skin. The white of her throat, her collarbone, the bra that’s half on, half of.

Pinning her wrists over her head, keeping her still, watching her pupils dilate.

Fucking flawless. Every inch, every glorious detail. Underneath you, at your mercy, already staining your sheets with her need.

And then, a beg:

“Please.”

“Greedy.”

“It’s how you made me.”

Your other hand ventures lower, drifting down her stomach, holding against her abs, leaving your fingertips to ghost over her mound.

She shudders at your touch.

You let her know, “I wasn’t complaining.”

And your tongue is on hers, soft to start, relaxing into familiar patterns, swipes of reintroductions, until Mina’s arching her back, urging you on. But you’re greedy in your own way; wanting to take your time, wanting to extract all these sighs and moans straight from the source.

Only, Mina’s having none of it.

“You’re really going to torture me after the day I’ve had?”

You quirk an eyebrow, push your thumb down against her clit. Applying enough pressure to make her hips buck.

"Torture is a strong word, darling."

Mina's huffs as you hold her there, keeping her locked in place and at your mercy. Wriggling under your grasp, but not making any real effort to escape. After all, where would the fun be in that?

"Fine," she's relenting, eyes slipping shut, unable to hide the smile that’s making its way onto her face. "Call it what you want. Just—more."

"Then let's just call it a pleasant distraction."

Your lips are together once more, your kiss quickly turning from something sweet to something a lot more demanding. Throwing Mina a bone, pressing into her a declaration of intent that has her wild for you.

You take your fingers, slide it down, swiping through her folds. Dancing around her entrance, seeing how nice and slick she already is for you, feeding that gnat in the back of your head that urges you to just fill her whole. Right before pressing up into her cunt.

“Yes,” Mina whispers into your mouth, hips rising to meet your hand, helpless little shivers around your first, then second digit—pushing until you’re knuckle deep inside her heat, making her squirm and cry, “Just stretch this fucking pussy, please.”

“Oh, you’re so wet for me,” you say, like it's a surprise, like she's ever not, like she doesn't part her legs and beg for you to take the invitation to her cunt every single time.

And Mina’s reaffirming, “Of course I am, I’m always—” but she never gets to finish her sentence, because you’re sliding a third finger in, and she’s trying so hard to keep it all together despite how determined you are to pull it all apart.

You’re too attentive—watching her face, every micro expression. Watching for every twitch, every whine, every cry that gets stuck in her throat when she tries to swallow it down.

There’s beauty in all of it, every single time, you could never get enough of it. Been burned into you now—what it takes to make Mina come undone. The right ways to touch her, the spots that make her preen. Where to be gentle, when to be rough, how to keep her guessing.

It’s all here, now, distilled to its basest elements, and it doesn’t even take much. You’re too good at this, know her far too well to need anything other than the sound of her breath to dictate your pace.

Your thumb plays at her swollen clit, doing nothing but pressing down as your fingers saw in and out of her slippery cunt, making her clench around you like she always does. Faster and faster, until she’s crying for it, shivering and trembling underneath you, struggling against your hold on her wrists because she's dying for something to hold onto.

“You—you’re too much,” Mina pants, because that’s all she can do now as you push into her with purpose. So, so fucking wet, creaming around your fingers, pooling in the palm of your hand. “Too—too—too fucking—”

Losing control over her own limbs, cumming with a sharp cry, levitating off the bed as your hand works magic between her legs, needing a hard kiss to ease her back down to Earth.

The aftershocks still roll through her body, leaving her with these tiny, frantic whimpers. You keep her pinned, soothe her with your thumb at her clit, padding around in gentle circles, feeling her spasm and pulse around your fingers.

Your kiss ends on that high note, parting lips to give Mina a chance at a complete inhale. Her chest is heaving, nipples poking out of the top of her bra, skin already sticky with sweat. Eyes opening, hazed over with need and the beginnings of tears.

“I—I need more.”

Hands let go of her wrists, fingers slide out of her cunt, and you lean back to watch her try to compose herself. It’s a battle she’s not winning.

Mina’s blinking up at you, trying to catch her breath, trying to remember how to do anything other than be fucked into oblivion by you. You help her—leaning over, thumbs hooking under her bra straps. Pulling it down with a gentle tug that makes her arch into the motion, makes her chest spill out and your mouth water.

You take the chance to admire her. To drink her in, appreciate her the way she deserves to be appreciated—a masterpiece spread out on your bed, naked and needy.

There’s the intoxication, knowing you’re the one that did that to her, knowing that you’re the one that’s going to do it again. Over and over again.

“If I have to wait another second, I’m going to scream,” Mina says, the demand losing its edge in a whine.

You chuckle, press an open-mouthed kiss onto her breast, sucking a nipple between your teeth.

Sometimes, you just can’t resist.

“Let’s not pretend that isn’t exactly what I want.”

“Make it happen, then.”

Mina holds position as you pull back, keeping her hands over her head, keeping as still as a statue as you come to your knees over her. Eyes on you as your shirt, your belt, your pants go. Eyes on your cock as your briefs fall away, leaving it standing tall and thick and ready for her.

There’s power dynamics at play here—how Mina’s so vulnerable to you, how she’s laid herself out, unwilling to move until you tell her to. She understands it, implicitly. Knows she’s playing right into your hands, forced to wait while you let the anticipation build.

You hold your cock above her, stroke it carefully. Watch her eyes track it. See her gulp.

And she begs, again, “Please,” softer now, the unmistakable tremble in her voice. "I just—I need it so fucking bad."

Whether on purpose or by instinct, her legs splay, presenting her pussy, glistening with want. There’s the pulse in her clit, the need dripping over her folds—you feed the agony just a little more, hovering over the entrance, letting the tip of your cock graze over it. Teasing, taunting.

"Beg for it."

Mina opens her mouth, but she fails to summon the words. Just leaves her lips hanging open, leaving you an opening for your fingers to push in and try to help her find the right plea.

Her tongue flicks out, licks at your digits, the taste of her arousal still thick on them. The wetness of her tongue as she sucks, the suction of her lips as she envelopes each finger, one by one. Savouring her own flavour with deep, longing slurps, with grateful hums resonating around your fingers.

Leaking down the tip of your cock, cunt getting wetter and wetter the longer she’s denied. Making you throb against her, making your hips jerk and bump dangerously close to where she needs you to be.

But you still don’t enter her. You just wait until she’s done, until your fingers are clean and wet, and she’s left a trail of kisses up to your wrist.

It’s then that you drag your fingers out from her lips and demand of her once more:

“Beg.”

And this time, Mina’s able to say it clearly, confidently, right from her chest—

“I need you inside me. Need to feel you so deep inside me that I can’t tell where I end and you begin. I want to make you cum so hard you’ll never want to leave, want to leave your mark so deep inside me that even if you do, I’ll still feel you.”

Each word, a fucking gift.

And her reward—

A hard, quick plunge straight into her cunt. Inside her, instantly buried, immediately unbearable. Just too good.

Mina can’t do anything, just dig her nails into the sheets and try not to scream at the suddenness of it, at the way you complete her without any warning at all.

It all just ripples through her, a second orgasm already possessing her and forcing her into seizure. Can’t even hold it together—can’t keep the moans contained, can’t keep herself steady—can only just lock eyes with you and hope that you’re seeing it all, hope that you’re feeling it too.

Mina’s got no control around you anymore, none at all.

“Your cock,” she’s saying, repeating it over and over. Like it’s brand new to her, like it hasn’t ever left her wrecked a hundred times over.  “Your fucking cock.”

Words punctuated by the slaps of your hips, the wet sounds of your bodies colliding, of Mina welcoming every stroke of your cock inside her. So fucking tight, gloved around you like it was forged specifically for your cock; not for anything else but you, only you.

“So hard, my God.” Mina’s hands clasp behind your neck, needing a firm hold on something solid and real. “So fucking hard for me, so—so—fuck—”

Her lips are everywhere, a flurry of butterfly kisses across your cheekbones, the bridge of your nose, the edges of your jawline. Crazed, unbridled assault of affection. Disarming, incredibly hot. Mina doing her best to mark you up before she’s torn away again.

It’s far too early in the processions—habit would usually have her playing it cool, trying to keep up the façade of control, hold onto shreds of dignity, until she’s unravelling completely and begging you to fuck her harder, deeper.

But now, she’s just letting you have her.

No games, no pretences.

Just you, and her, and this wild, hopeless need to feel good, to be consumed by this.

“Yours,” Mina’s whispering, voice cracking around the edges, “All yours.”

And you know it. Have known it. Had it signed and sealed in ink since the very first time she told you. When you made her knees buckle and eyes water as you took her in every way possible. Since she called out for you, said your name into the quiet of the night like it was a secret she never wanted to keep.

Yet it’s hearing it now, the sum of all these moments stacked on top of each other; the haunts that you’d frequent, the private corners that you’d made yours, the endless phone calls and messages and photos that could fill entire warehouses with their filth.

Finally here—both of you, panting, sweating, sex thick in the air. The world outside forgotten.

Fucking Mina so hard, so deep, euphoria shooting straight through you each time your cock bottoms out inside her. The softness of her cunt, its heat, its creaminess, its fucking divinity. Leaking out all around you and squeezing you so good that it’s a miracle that you’re still coherent enough to speak.

But you do, with a gruff, “Already knew that, darling.”

Mina’s laughing, because that’s the type of high you’re giving her. Even with the way you’re stretching her open, even with her eyes barely open and her toes curling into the bed—she’s laughing because it’s the only thing she can do. Because it’s all so absurdly perfect that she can’t find the energy to do anything else.

“All this, all of you,” you’re leaning in, at the base of her throat, licking a stripe up to her earlobe. Drumming the words into her skin, until she shivers. “Every part of you. All mine.”

Simple words that hold so much sway over her, that could pull her apart or build her right back up. Words that make Mina clench around you, make her cunt grasp you so tightly as if she’s trying to make them real.

“Always,” she’s heaving, “Always yours.”

And there’s this look on her face, like she’s lost in a dream—eyes glassy and all fogged up, breath hot against your shoulder. Glowing under the dimmed lights, making the sweat pooling at the base of her throat shimmer.

Keeping your hand there, at her neck, like it’s the only thing keeping her from floating away. Ruining her. Because really, it’s all for her. All of this is all for her pleasure, her satisfaction.

You’re just along for the ride, so fucking lucky to have her like this. So impossibly beautiful, just knowing she exists would drive you insane if you didn’t get to be with her. Didn’t get a chance at this pussy, so perfect, dripping so much, made so hot for you and only you. Your own personal slutty cunt.

It’s the way her legs wrap around your hips—the smoothness of her skin, the power in those thighs, holding you like she’s afraid you’ll pull away. Like she’s terrified you’ll leave her like this, frantic and wretched and so, so fucking wet.

The newest picture you’re painting, your magnum opus in her name—her tits bouncing with each thrust, nipples stiff and flicking in the air. The yielding of her back, bending just so she can accommodate that extra length of you inside her. And her stomach—fuck, those abs. Tightening and loosening, shaking with every hit of your hips, with every sharp gasp of air.

Demanding of you. Cum for me. Please. Now.

“I need this. Exactly this from now on,” Mina’s declaring, stuttering it like you’re fucking every syllable out of her tightness. “Just you fucking me. Whenever we’re together, every second we get alone—fuck—"

And you’re nodding because you’re always right there with her, always on the same wavelength, thinking the exact same fucking thing.

“Keep filing me up until I can’t take it anymore. Until I’m screaming so loud, I can’t even hear myself think—”

Breathless words that flood your ears, that Mina needs to get out, needs to make sure you hear. Absorbed straight into your bloodstream, pumping into your cock, fed right back into her cunt. So fucking tight. So downright incredible that you’re speeding up, driving in deep, as deep as you could possibly go.

“Until I’m so full of you that I forget my own name—forget any other name but yours—until I—until I—”

A nasty hit makes her body curve and rise, makes her pussy clamp around you, in warning of the orgasm to come, the one you’re both hurtling towards with a kind of reckless abandon that’s become second nature.

“Until I—please—just always make me feel this way—”

“You will,” you promise, meaning it, fucking it into her like your life depends on it. Like you need it to survive, because maybe you do. Maybe you’ve never truly lived until you’ve felt Mina’s cunt quiver around your cock like this, until you’ve heard her beg for you like you’re the only thing she needs to breathe. And again, for good measure, “you will."

And oh, that’s all it takes. That’s enough to have Mina spilling.

“Cumming,” is her proclamation. Repeated, ad infinitum, just, “Cumming, cumming, cumming.”

All over your cock, all around your cock. Cunt strangling you with the force of it.

And this is where you decide Mina’s most beautiful.

When she’s consumed by climax, when she’s held prisoner by it, when she’s just nothing but a canvas for you to leave your marks all over.

“Feel so good—so fucking good—”

It’s the best kind of challenge, pushing her through it.

Worshipping her in all the ways that count, treating Mina in ways woman like her should never be treated. Tearing an angel down from the heavens just to hammer her cunt into submission, and being thanked for it afterwards.

“God,” Mina’s trying, voice rasping and broken, “I—fuck—I can’t—”

You take her, hand wrapping around her tits, pinching, rolling, teasing nipples until they’re as tight as her cunt around you. Leaning in and capturing her lips, drinking down her whimpers with a kiss so deep you can taste your name on her tongue.

Fucking her, ruining that tight, little pussy, through every wave that crashes down over her, that burns her up from the inside and makes her so Goddamn hot.

Leaving her in disbelief that it could ever feel this good again, that there's a light at the end of this tunnel, that there's a life after being fucked so thoroughly by your cock.

Holding her through it, preventing her from crumbling into a million overstimulated pieces. Slowing down the pace of your hips with steady, deliberate thrusts until you’re just inside her. Cock throbbing, bathing in her heat, waiting.

Mina stirs, eyes flutter open, meeting yours. “Cum inside me. Wherever you’d like.”

There’s only one real choice. Mina knows this as well as you do.

Your cock leaves her cunt, slick with her juices, her cum. Proof of your dominion over her body, gleaming along your shaft.

Nothing but bliss on Mina’s face, so well-fucked and satisfied and just plain happy that it’s almost a surprise she hasn’t melted away into a puddle. She’s smiling, looking up at you through her lashes, sweet and soft and perfect.

Turning herself over, bowing down on her knees, pointing her ass up at you like it’s the universe itself handing you a present and saying, ‘Here, this is yours.’

You can’t resist that kind of temptation.

“I’ve been waiting for this,” Mina tells you, rolling her hips higher still, flaring out her hips, treating you to the perfectly round globes of her ass. “Waiting for you to take me. However you want. Make it hurt so good. Make me remember how you feel.”

Her hands reach back, delicate fingers spreading plump cheeks apart. The tight, pink ring of her ass winking at you. A sight that never gets old, a vision that’s forever carved into the back of your eyeballs.

One last request. “Please.”

Your cock pushes in.

“Thank you.”

Right away, it’s too fucking much. Your cock breaching through her asshole, pushing in inch by inch. Slow and torturous, the kind of thing that makes you want to yell.

Then the first thrust—that first hit, like a narcotic, straight through your veins, every single time. Feeling it, sensations so intense, so sharp, that you forget to even breathe.

And Mina’s crying. Crying out, muffled by the pillow she’s biting into. Yet still, pushing back against you, urging you deeper, even though she’s coming apart, even though she’s shaking from the sheer effort of having you fill her.

“Darling,” you call to her, “you’re doing so good,” because she is. Good, good, so fucking good for letting you split her in two like this. For letting you ruin her in all the best ways.

The second thrust is easier, smoother. Body giving in to your demands, stretching around your cock like it always does, like it’s made to do. To bend and flex to your whims and desires.

With every push, every retreat, every agonisingly, achingly slow grind into her ass, you’re nearing that rapturous end.

“So fucking good for me, Mina. Your ass is so tight around me. Such a good girl.” You’re grunting now, trying to ease her into it, to build up to the point where you can pound her, push her like you really want to.

Mina’s nodding, eyes screwed shut, sunken in the way you’re stretching her out. It’s a familiar feeling, having her ass opening up for you. A dance you’ve performed so often it’s almost muscle memory—each step painstakingly learned; each move carefully choreographed.

You’re easing into her, slow, so fucking slow that it’s a wonder that either of you doesn’t implode with want. But Mina’s good, so good, letting out these tiny, shuddering breaths that you feel down to the marrow of your bones.

And then, as your is fully seated in her ass—

“Don’t hold back,” Mina says, quietly, barely audible, but the need is crystal clear. “All of it, please.”

Hand in her hair, hand at her waist. Gripping into her, guiding her and then fucking her, really, truly flooding her ass with your cock, disappearing into her tightness until your hips are slapping into hers.

So pretty, even like this, even when her moans are getting louder, borderline screams that are cut off by the cotton of the pillow, her knuckles turning white in the effort. Her back tenses, muscles rippling underneath your palms.

She dips a hand underneath her, between her legs. Fingers at her cunt, whirling around her clit, doing all she can to keep up with you.

“Feels fucking amazing. Your ass, Mina,” you’re trying to say, but it’s coming out all gravelly and thick. “So fucking tight for me.”

It’s the one through-line that’s kept steady over these months. Mina’s transcendental beauty, Mina’s razor-sharp intelligence, Mina’s pussy that’s always, perpetually yours. All these things; but it’s Mina’s ass—that perfect, juicy, heart-shaped, fucking flawless ass that keeps you up at night.

Every time you’re buried inside, it’s like coming home to something sacred. Tightness gripping you, ass swallowing your cock in waves, the kind of feeling that makes you believe in a higher power—because nothing so divine could possibly be man-made.

“Fuck, I just—” Mina’s breathing out, quick huffs because that’s all she can manage, “just love this so fucking much. Love how you feel in my fucking ass.”

Her hand’s working overtime now, circling her clit with a fervour that’s almost religious. Pussy starting to leak again, juices running down her thighs, mixing with the sweat, pooling at her knees. Fuck, the way she’s touching herself while taking you in, so willingly, so wantonly, so utterly destroyed for you—she’s going to cum again, you can feel it. And you’re not far behind.

“I think I’m going to—fuck, I only just—but I’m going to—again—you’re going to make me—again—” She’s squealing, half-mumbling, full-crying, and your heart nearly bursts out of your chest because it’s all for you.  

You’re not even managing anything other than desperate thrusts, just fucking her with everything you have—like you’re trying to claim her inside and out, trying to leave your fingerprints on every part of her so everyone will know she’s been yours all along.

“Please, please, please,” again and again, stuttering out, “Just—just—just—”

Just keep going, keep pushing into her until she’s shaking, until she’s pleading for you to stop, to let her breathe, because she’s about to fucking break.

Or, really:

Keep going and never, ever stop.

The hand in her hair tightens, pulling her back, making her arch. That perfect spine, the curve that’s painted by God himself. Kisses into her shoulder, into the crook of her neck, making her whimper.

“Keep fucking me. Like this—like this—God—I’m going to—again—”

Pulling her closer to you, so you can feel the tremors starting from her core, spreading out like wildfire. Pushing her hand away, taking over between her legs—rubbing, teasing, circling her cunt and pushing her closer and closer to the brink. Fucking her so deeply that you can feel the first quivers of her orgasm from the inside out, daring to take over her body again.

“Keep fucking—touching me, fill me up—just don’t—please, I need it—”

A final plea, her last rites, before she’s lost.

“Cumming—cumming again—please, oh, please—oh—”

Mina’s body goes lax, a ragdoll in your arms. But you keep fucking her through it. Through the quakes and shivers, through the cries—through the crying out. Pleading. Pleading for you to follow her into oblivion.

And fuck. If you’re not right there with her.

You’re close, chasing her, feeling her orgasm, feeling it coil around your cock and pump through her veins and into yours. Feel her—her body, her muscles, her cunt—tightening, tightening, tightening around you until it’s unbearable.

“Cum for me—with me—” she’s repeating, her newest mantra, “cum inside me. Give it to me—please, I need it—please—so badly—”

Begging, dying for it. Willing, wanting to do anything for it.

But she doesn’t need to—you can’t fucking hold on any longer.

“Mina—fuck—"

You slam into her, and finally burst.

Filling her ass with your cum, feeling it spurt into her, thick and hot. Pumping into her, over and over, getting wrung dry by her ass, cumming so hard it feels like your bones might shatter.

Cumming until your vision swims, until the architecture in your knees threaten to give out, until all you can do is hold onto her hips and keep her in place, keep her right there, impaled on your cock, until every single drop of cum has found a home inside her ass.

Until you’re so sensitive it’s almost painful. Until the orgasm has passed over the two of you and left you feeling like you might dissolve into nothing but pure sensation.

“Christ,” you manage to get out, the word tearing out of you like it’s being ripped from your chest. Holding Mina close—embracing her, seeing just how much she’s loving it. How thankful she is. Taking it all, soaking it all in, moans turning into whimpers that you’d swear are prayers of gratitude.

Body limp and strung out, fucked so hard she can’t even hold herself up anymore—Mina collapses into the bed, pulling you with her, your cock still buried deep inside her.

Like the first time, like every time, it’s a complete fucking disaster.

Tangled up in sheets, in each other. Sticky with sweat, stickier with cum. And Mina turns her head to look at you, just so pleased, and so gleefully satisfied.

You lean in and kiss her, slow and deep, resisting the urge to stir, to roll her onto her back and start this whole thing over again. Claim her once, twice, a dozen times more.

But you don’t. You just lay there, breathing into her neck, letting all of this, your orgasms, your bliss, your absolute contentment roll through you.

There’ll be time to keep going, to keep fucking her. Give her the same tour of your house that she gave you that first night.

Eat her out in the kitchen. Fuck her into the sofa. And yeah, introduce her to the balconies on the higher floors.

For now though, there’s Mina, lips parting with yours, looking at you with a smile that’s this original blend of lust and love and admiration. “You really know how to ruin a girl, you know that?”

You chuckle, picking a stray strand of hair out of her eyes. “Just trying to scratch an itch.”

—

Everybody loves a love story.

And yours is packaged up so nicely, polished and made shiny and perfect for the public to see.

It's the type of story the media dies for—a tale of modern romance, woven through the glitz and glamour of celebrity life. The cold-blooded billionaire who had his heart stolen by one of the nation’s daughters, and then chased her across continents in order to get it back.

You and Mina, becoming the ultimate power couple—the kind that makes the paparazzi's cameras click in unison and tabloids sell by the millions.

Together at every high-profile event, her hand nestled in the crook of your arm, your thumb tracing lazy circles on her wrist—a secret promise of the bruises she’ll wear under her designer dresses. A whispered reminder of the things you’ll do to her when the lights go out and the world isn’t watching.

But nobody sees that. The public sees the smiles, the kisses, the sweet little glances that pass between you—and they eat it all up.

They'll never see the way she begs for your cock, the way you fuck her until she can't walk straight, the way she rides you until all you know is her name. They don’t know that it wasn’t love at first sight—it was lust, paroxysms of it, pure and raw and unbridled.

But here you are.

Mina, in your bathroom, smiling at you through the mirror. Dressed to the nines, looking like a fucking dream. Making it so obvious now that you wonder how you missed it at the start. The way she looked at you that first night, the way she looked. It was all there, laid out in big bold letters, all caps, telling you that this is what you’ve been searching for—what you needed all along.

That dress she’s wearing—some dazzling shade of green. Olive? Celadon?

“Emerald,” she smiles, catching you staring. “It’s emerald, darling.”

You grin back. “Then it should match.”

Mina’s eyes flick to the box in your hand, curiosity piqued.

“Got you something.”

You hand her the box—a simple, muted green velvet, lacking any markers or logos to give away the contents. Ergo, it’s really fucking expensive.

She takes it out of your hands. Opens it, and her breath catches.

“It’s—” Mina whispers, lifting a necklace from the box. A simple, stunning piece. A thin diamond band with a solitary jade teardrop hanging from the center.

"Yours."

Mina holds it up against the light, seeing how it dances through the stone like it’s alive. When her eyes come back to yours, she’s beaming—a smile so wide it makes you wish you had your phone ready to snap a photo.

“Help a girl out, would you?” she says, turning her back to you, sweeping her hair over her bare shoulder.

You step forward, kissing the skin there, feeling the softness of her neck, the pulse of her vein. Your hands come up to fasten the necklace around her, the coldness of the diamonds brushing against your knuckles.

“You know, there’s one thing I was wondering about,” you murmur, letting the jade rest atop her throat.

Mina giggles, tilts her head slightly to the side. The jewels sparkle. “Oh?”

“That first night. The gala. You came alone.”

“I did.”

“Why?”

“Why?” Mina repeats, amused. Happy to have her own little secret, the one thing you've yet to pry out of her between the sheets. She regards you through the reflection, a twinkle in her eye that says she’s been wondering what took you so long to ask.

“Yeah, I’ve never quite figured it out. I mean I know why you were alone. But why did you come at all? What were you doing there, just sitting all pretty and by yourself. It felt so wrong to me at the time.”

That makes Mina laugh, making you feel somewhat silly to even ask. She spins on her heels, facing you; the necklace sitting perfectly against her skin. She runs her fingers over the chain, ending at the pendant. Tapping it. Once. Twice.

And she doesn’t even need to ask you if it looks good on her or if it suits her because she knows. She can tell by the look on your face.

She wears it like a fucking collar.

“Why?” Mina says again, stretching the syllable out long and wide, until you’re staring at her lips, knowing you’re about to kiss her again, knowing that you may very well not make it out of the house tonight, likely not even make it out of the bathroom.

You’ll be ruining that dress, fucking her against the sink, pushing her up into the mirror, kissing into the top of her spine and repeating over and over again—mine, mine, mine.

“Because you invited me.”

[chris-hallelujah]

Have You Ever Tried This One? pt. 2 | m.s.

Part One Here!

Warnings: foul language, oral (m and f receiving), alcohol usage

Word Count: 1.8k words

My Master List

Join my tag list : @matthewsroses @lvrsturniolo @sturnzsblog @nickgurl4life

Enter my giveaway!! (closes 11/15)

Divider by: @anitalenia

A/N: Thank you all for the love on part one! I was not expecting it to get the attention it did. Thank you again @delilahsturniolo for the inspo and letting me make your idea my own. I'm sorry if it feels rushed -- I knew you all were waiting for this so I tried to hurry!!

<3 - Billie

The lights in the arena darkened and you disappeared from the view of the crowd's view. "Goodnight Boston, I'll see you soon!" You called into the mic before handing it off to someone on stage crew. Your manager handed you a water bottle which you gladly took. Making your way back to your dressing room, she fussed over your hair and outfit.

"There are a few journalists who want to speak with you and those boys you invited backstage," she said powdering your face. You waved her off.

"I just got done with a concert, they can deal with a little bit of imperfection," you laughed walking out of your dressing room. In the lobby area backstage you saw the triplets with Chris' girlfriend standing against a wall. You waved at them to acknowledge them quickly before you had to deal with the few journalists. After about 10 minutes of interviews and answering questions, you were finally free. You sauntered over to the group with a smile. "Hi! I'm so sorry to keep you all waiting! I'm Billie, it is so nice to meet you all," You exclaimed shaking each of their hands as they introduced themselves. Your hand lingered connected to Matt's for a few seconds longer than the others. He was quiet, shy as you all conversed. Chris and Nick did most of the talking. "I've seen some of your videos. You guys are hilarious," you smiled looking across all of them but then locking eyes with Matt.

"Y-you've seen our videos?" he asked surprised, earning a nod from you.

"I have and I'm really honored you all came tonight. I hope you enjoyed the show." You all chatted for a bit before your manager passed by giving you a look to wrap it up. "It was great to get to meet you all. And, Matt, if you're up for it, I'd love to chat more." You flashed him a confident smile and handed him a paper with your number on it. He took it with a shaky hand, staring at it wide eyed.

"Yea, no, that - yea sounds good," he blurt out earning a laugh from his brothers.

"You might have broke him," Nick teased.

After you all parted ways you made your way back to your hotel room. The hot shower water ran down your body as you felt your muscles relax. The plush bathrobe hugged your body as you climbed out of the shower and, as if on cue, your phone buzzed.

Hey, you put on a great show tonight. Thanks for the handcuffs. Now I just need to put them to use ;)

You're too sweet and a bit more bold when your brothers aren't around to tease you

They're a piece of work lol when can I see you again?

I'm at the four seasons room 311

Matt stared at his phone in shock. He never would have expected you to just give him the information for your hotel room. He quietly snuck out of his bedroom, not wanting to have to deal with telling Nick and Chris that he was going to see you.

You quickly freshened up, enough to look cute but not too much that you looked desperate. About 15 minutes later there was a knock at your hotel room door. Matt's face greeted you as you opened it. He was leaning against the wall with a slight smirk. You could already tell that he was a different Matt than you'd met earlier. "Hey, pretty girl," he spoke smoothly.

A slight blush crept your cheeks as you moved aside to let him in. You took in his all black outfit, noting how nice it looked on him. "Hi Matt," you smiled. Matt looked around, taking in the fancy hotel suite you were in.

"Nice place you got here. All of your tour stops this fancy?" he asked sitting down on the sofa.

You laughed a bit, "I try and make them feel like home a bit. Traveling so much can be exhausting and it's nice to come back to a hotel room that has all that I need in it." Shuffling through the mini fridge, you pulled out some wine. "You want some?" He nodded leading you to pour two glasses. You took a spot next to him on the sofa, not leaving much room between you, but enough for it to not be awkward. "So, tell me about you. What do I need to know about Matt Sturniolo?" you asked.

He took a sip of the wine before turning fully to face you, "Well, as you know I'm a triplet. I'm the middle one. We've been doing YouTube since-"

You cut him off shaking your head. "I don't want to know about your brothers. Tell me about you." This caused Matt's head to spin. He wasn't used to people only wanting to learn about him. People always loved Chris for his looks and Nick for his humor, but sometimes Matt felt swept under the rug. ((I'm crying writing this))

A smile on his face, he took a different approach, "Okay well, I really like nature. I feel so at peace when I'm outside. I also used to be really into reading. Fell outta that for a while, but I'm starting to pick it up again." The two of you chatted getting to know each other and finishing the bottle of wine quicker than either of you had planned.

It had been an hour of just drinking and talking and before you knew it your legs were draped over his lap, hands in his hair. He had his lips attached to yours as he held your hips. You weren't quite sure how you got there, but you weren't complaining. Matt pulled away slightly, earning a whine from you. Both of you breathing heavily, he leaned his forehead against yours. "You sure about this, miss popstar?" he said, teasing you slightly. You giggled and nodded, placing your lips on his neck. He groaned, tilting his head back to give you more access. You trailed down his jawline, then his neck, and to his collarbone leaving bites and kisses in your path. A flash of pink covered your eyes as Matt tugged your shirt off over your head and tossed it to meet his on the floor. He picked you up and tossed you onto the bed. Something caught your eye, peeking out of his back pocket. Something pink. With fur? Oh my god.

A chuckle escaped your lips as you tugged the fuzzy pink handcuffs you had gifted him at the concert out of his back pocket. "I see you wanted to break in your gift," you smirked, twirling them on your finger. He chuckled snatching them from you and tossing them to the side.

"Don't worry, pretty girl, they'll get used soon," he winked. His pants hit the floor and your eyes trailed down his body. Before you knew it, you found yourself on your knees in front of him. "Such a good girl. Didn't even have to tell you," he smirked. You were practically drooling at the sight of him. Your hand wrapped around his length causing him to hiss slightly. As your lips enclosed around his tip, his hand found home in your hair. Your tongue swirled around him slowly before you closed the distance between your lips and his groin. He groaned loudly as you took him in deeper. Impulsively, his hand pushed your head further, causing a choking noise to leave you. "Shhh, you got it, princess. Doin' - ah - doing so well," he moaned as your head bobbed. As you moved your head back and forth, your hand covered what didn't fit in your mouth. It did not take long for Matt's hand to coerce you a bit more forcefully as you noticed his body tense up. "Oh fuck, keep goin," he moaned. A few more pumps later you felt his load shoot into your mouth as he groaned loudly, squeezing his eyes shut. You pulled off of him with a slight 'pop' and sat with a satisfied grin on your face. He let out a deep breath before looking down at you.

Next thing you knew, your back hit the mattress and Matt hovered over you. "Better wipe that smirk off that pretty little face," he chuckled. To your right you heard the sound of metal clinking. Matt's hand gathered your small wrist and cuffed you to the bed. You looked up at the handcuffs and back at him whimpering slightly. Your arms wiggled causing the metal to clank against the headboard. "What? Can't handle what you dish out?" he smirked and trailed kisses down your torso. When he reached your underwear, his eyes met yours again for approval. As you nodded, he discarded your thong onto the floor. Your hips twitched in anticipation as you felt his breath on your core. The wide grin on his face was undeniable as he watched you already writhing beneath him. "So sensitive," he chuckled tracing circles on your thigh, "barely even touched you yet."

"Matty, please," you whined. He ended your suffering licking a stripe up your folds. Your hips lifted at the contact and you gasped loudly. He quickly shoved your hips back down to the bed and held them there with his hands, probably leaving bruises that would show tomorrow. Matt explored you with his tongue, taking note on what made your legs shake. As his tongue circled your clit, he felt your hips try to raise against his hands. "Oh! Matt fuck" you moaned loudly. He smiled against you knowing he figured out your weakness. He continued to work your bundle of nerves until you were a writhing, moaning mess underneath him. The noise of the handcuffs fighting the headboard earned a laugh from Matt's mouth that vibrated against you. Your body tensed as your climax built up. He slipped a finger into you, thrusting quickly as his tongue danced against your clit. You felt pleasure take over your body. "Matt - my god! Don't stop!" you cried out. He continued to ride out your orgasm until your body relaxed and you panted against the bed. He carefully removed his fingers from you and crawled up to meet your eyes. Your lips wrapped around his fingers, tasting yourself as you licked them clean. He removed his fingers from your mouth and unlocked the handcuffs.

A soft kiss landed on your forehead as he pulled his t shirt over your head. You smiled climbing under the covers. Pulling his boxers back on before he climbed into bed with you. The night was spent wrapped in each others' arms.

The morning light showed through the curtains as you woke. After cuddling up to Matt for a few more minutes, you reached for your phone. Your eyes widened as you saw messages from your manager. Attached was an article titled, "YouTube Triplet Seen at Pop Star's Hotel." You knew this was not going to end well with your publicity team but, boy, was it worth it.

[torukmaktoskxawng]

Sleeping Beauty - Jake & Tsu'tey

Part of the Sleeping Beauty Series (all stand-alone)

inspo

Pairing: Jake Sully/Fem!Reader/Tsu'tey

Word Count: 2k+

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, minors dni, somnophilia, bi!Jake, dom!Tsu'tey, unprotected p in v (wrap it, you skxawngs), biting, swearing, surprise threesome, creative use of Na'vi words to avoid saying Y/n, oral (male receive), reader gets Eiffel-towered, reader is a bit of a masochist, creampie, Tsu'tey!lives au, Tsu'tey is olo'eyktan and Jake is just Toruk Makto.

A/n: Surpriiiiise! I feel like this one isn't as long as the last but I was almost desperate to push this out. I hope it's okay.

Also, I'm not gonna keep writing a 'Na'vi Words Used' section 🙃 Google is free, and this provides a browser that helps you quickly type in a word to find out what it means. Enjoy!

Jake knew from the very beginning that you had some sort of infatuation with Tsu'tey, but you would rather die than admit it. 

After all, you were with Jake, and in Na'vi terms you were mated for life. In human terms, you were married, and it made Jake extremely happy knowing that no matter what shape or form the two of you were in, you loved him no matter what and he loved you. When he decided that he wanted to pass through the Eye of Eywa and permanently transfer his subconscious into his avatar's body, you fully supported his decision. It helped that you had an avatar of your own, so you could still be a part of his world and occasionally return to yours if need be. You've only ever wanted him to be happy, and you always loved him, in and out of that damn wheelchair.

He knew you loved him, more than anything, but he catches the way you look at the clan's olo'eyktan from time to time. He knew you would never act on it. What you felt was just interest, nothing more, because you only wanted Jake at the end of the day. But then again, Jake was also just as curious as you, and if you weren't going to do anything about it, he was going to be the one to make the first step.

"Isn't she a doll? I mean, she almost is in the literal sense. A silent, inanimate object and pliable for me to play with however I want."

Tsu'tey didn't say anything in response, too caught up in watching the way Jake's large cock pushed into your squelching heat, the sound filling the kelku. The fact your avatar's body reacted according to Jake's touch without you possessing it had the Na'vi man completely transfixed from where he crouched near your head, a barely caged primal desire swimming in his yellow eyes. Watching how your lower lips, covered in your slick, spread, and pucker to stretch and accommodate Jake's unnatural size (thank you, labcoats), Tsu'tey's tail flicks with contained interest that was definitely questioning every rational thought.

He knows he shouldn't be here... but he had been thinking about this for months and not even Eywa could persuade him to look the other way after Toruk Makto was adamant about how both you and him wanted Tsu'tey.

Jake wasn't deterred by Tsu'tey's silence, knowing that if the olo'eyktan didn't want to be here, he wouldn't have followed Jake here after being invited. The two of them had gone out hunting that day and Jake thought it would be the perfect time to bring up his little... proposition.

Focusing back on the unconscious body beneath him, Jake grabs your avatar's hips with both hands and continues to gradually thrust inside of your pussy. Your body was already so tight and naturally became aroused and slicked up by the time Jake was done stretching you with his fingers. It took every ounce of self-control for him not to fuck you like an animal to his own completion when you look this enticing. Nothing was boring about your sex life, but with Tsu'tey's intimidating gaze watching his every move as Jake pumped in and out of your tight heat, something really hot and angry began to stir deep in Sully's stomach.

He lets out a punctured grunt, a wave of adrenaline coursing through him from the excitement of it all, a grin slowly plastering over his lips, glancing back up at Tsu'tey, "She lets me do this a ton, you know. She loves it. You would have never guessed she was such a minx, huh?"

Tsu'tey's ears twitch with that same intrigue, pupils further blown wide with barely contained desire, trying to ignore the growing strain of his loincloth. 

Jake's grin falters for a moment when your pussy grips him tight, a groan spilling from his lips and falling open in a silent gasp as his eyebrows pinch together in pleasure. He struggles to find his words again, huffing between sentences as everything else drains to his groin, "She said she was going to link up around this time. 'Should be waking up right... about..."

The first thing that moved was your avatar's eyebrows, scrunched closely together as your eyelashes fluttered. Tsu'tey watches as a soft flush rises up your body, reaching your face just as you open your eyes, pupils blown out of proportion as a soft, quiet whimper is pulled from your lungs. Your hands instinctively fly up to graze and scratch at Jake's tight chest and tummy when you feel that familiar sensation of an approaching orgasm.

"Oh, fuuuuck..." you moan out, tilting your head back as you close your eyes once more.

A deep, low chuckle reverberates from Jake's throat while staring down at you, slowing his thrusts until he's only grinding, the friction of his pelvis against your clit sending your growing moans to ricochet throughout the marui, "Hey, baby. Glad you could join us."

"Us?" You breathlessly question, managing to catch the choice of words. Looking around, you suddenly realize you and your husband are not alone. Craning your neck up, you find a familiar Na'vi crouching above your head, your eyes widening, "Tsu'tey?"

His eyes, so hard and intimidating like the rest of his physique, always piercing into your soul... had a lilt of something else that now pierced something deep in your abdomen and caused your warm and wet walls to flutter around Jake's cock. While Jake softly curses under his breath, biting his lip to stay quiet, Tsu'tey's eyes never leave yours even as his hand brushes over his straining loincloth to try and relieve the pressure, "Sevin..."

Any initial horror or embarrassment you might have felt at the thought of another man seeing you naked and being properly fucked started to melt and drift out of your mind the moment your eyes glanced down to the olo'eyktan's crotch. You now shamelessly watch and even feel a small ping of pride as Tsu'tey's clothed cock unexpectedly jumps under your attention.

Feeling some level of satisfaction now that you understood what was going on, you quickly replaced your shock with a smug smile as your eyes turned up to Jake, "You really wanted to spice things up that badly, huh?"

The grinding immediately halted and you whine loudly from the loss of friction. Jake smirks down at you, strong hands gripping the flesh underneath your knees, "Maybe I was just tired of watching you drool after Tsu'tey without doing anything about it."

"Like you acted any better," you found yourself snarling back in the midst of your sexual frustration.

Tsu'tey surprised even himself when he scoffed in amusement, attracting the attention of the couple in front of him. With both sets of "demon" eyes on him, the Na'vi man felt a warmth swirling deep in his gut, his own eyes slowly traveling down to the spot where yours and Jake's bodies connected, almost as if he appreciated the view. 

The expression on the olo'eyktan's face was not lost to Jake, who smiled with a hidden arrogance as he slowly dragged his hips back, pulling his hard cock completely out of your squelching heat, shiny from your juices, the loss of fullness forcing a broken whimper to escape your throat. Without warning, Jake grabbed your hips and flipped your over, gently smacking your ass until you got the message and moved to lean forward on your hands and knees, gasping from the sting of his hand that would definitely leave a mark in the morning. 

Jake moved to press himself up against your ass, idly twirling your tail around his veiny forearm and giving it a firm tug, "Why don't you put that mouth to work for Tsu'tey if you're just going to be a smartass, huh?"

You whine, feeling so degraded, and yet your body feels like it's on fire. Keeping yourself upright on your hands and knees, you flip your hair over to one shoulder and look up at Tsu'tey through hooded eyelashes, your face flushed and your lips shining wet from rolling your tongue over them as you watch his tight loincloth begin to dampen with precum. When you peer up at the silent warrior, your eyes lock and you can't help the way your mouth gradually falls open, poking your tongue out like a welcoming invitation that makes Tsu'tey's balls tighten.

The growl that leaves his throat softly echoes throughout the marui, and your pulsating walls clench around nothing, a flutter of arousal making its presence from such a sound. Finally, Tsu'tey unties his loincloth and both you and Jake shamelessly watch his cock spring up to attention once released from its confinements. He's not as big as Jake, but he's still long with a small barb leaking precum at the tip, which flushes an angry dark purple.

He doesn't waste any more time, not when you look so enticing. He grabs a hold of your chin, harshly, and squeezes until you're forced to hold your tongue all the way out, the dominance making your belly stir. He grips his cock with his free hand, angrily pumping himself with a few, firm strokes as his dark, gold eyes keep you frozen in your spot, your spine tensing with anticipation. Tsu'tey gently slaps his leaking tip against your tongue for a moment and you bring the appendage back in your mouth, moaning at the taste of him before you roll it back out for more.

Tsu'tey looked up and met Jake's gaze, and whatever Sully saw swimming in those same orbs made the muscles in his stomach clench. You can feel Jake twitch against your entrance and you whine while pushing back against him for more, all the while keeping your mouth wide open and panting like a bitch in heat, your warm breath fanning over Tsu'tey's length. The olo'eyktan groans lowly, eyes drifting back down to you as he lines himself up, parting your lips with his tip before gradually shoving his way into your mouth.

You choke once but then immediately relax your throat, breathing deeply through your nose to try and not gag, moaning around his cock when you taste more of him. You've barely been given time to relax and breathe before Jake finally pushes his own dick back inside your pussy, filling you up in one swift motion that makes your moans rise in pitch, the vibrations turning Tsu'tey into a growling, feral creature that forces himself to remain still... for now.

Jake faintly smirks while huffing out a small moan in response to your pussy contracting around him, "'See how her bratty mouth isn't running anymore?"

Tsu'tey's usual snarl appears as he gives Jake a warning look, "I wonder if the same conclusion will happen if I do the same to you."

You don't have to see to know that Jake's shit-eating grin is etched on his lips, leaving you moaning around Tsu'tey when your husband slides out and immediately plunges back in, a large, wet slap echoing in the air when his hips meet your ass.

"I think she'd like nothing better than to see you teach me a lesson," Jake pushes out while huffing a strained, small laugh, "She just got tighter."

Tsu'tey grunts in answer, feeling your throat constrict around his cock like a living being each time Jake pulls out and shoves his way back in. 

"Ngh, yes. Very 'ekxin," Tsu'tey groans out, finally giving in and starting to move his hips back and forth, small motions at first before eventually matching Jake's rhythm. 

You felt like a spitroast with both cocks thrusting in and out both ends of you, and even more so when you felt a burning warmth, pleasant and growing deep in the pit of your stomach. The way Jake's cock rubs against the lining of your inner walls is so addicting, but you're unable to savor it because you're instantly distracted by the reminder to breathe through your nose when Tsu'tey only manages to plunge further down your throat. It was the kind of edging that would make anyone insane... and you loved it.

"You're greedy, baby, ya know that?" Jake growls playfully as he bends over your back and nips at your ear, "First, you had Toruk Makto, but then you also had to go and want the olo'eyktan. Well, now you have both of us, and it looks as though you can barely handle it."

The whines you let out send shocks up Tsu'tey's cock, making him growl uncontrollably, like a cornered animal. His mind foggy with desire, he briefly forgets how he needs to be gentle and roughly grabs your kuru, pulling it back to force your head to tilt at the desired angle before thrusting deep inside your mouth. His balls slap the underside of your chin while your constricting throat makes the most obscure, spongy sounds as you take his dick.

One of your hands shoots out to tightly grab his thigh, gagging around his cock as the leaking tip hits the back of your throat, past your uvula. Your nails dig into his skin in an attempt to push him away, but that only appears to rile him up more.

He snarls down at you, pulling back his lips to display his teeth, "Take it, sevin."

Your eyes widen with tears as you choke around him, your tearful gaze only spurring Tsu'tey on. Jake bites down on your shoulder, either to muffle his moans or to remind you he was there, no one could say. 

"You heard him," Sully gasps as he lathers his tongue over your new bite mark, "Take it, baby. Take it all."

He tugs your tail a little tighter, reminding you that he still has his arm tangled around it. You whine loudly around Tsu'tey, feeling him twitch inside your mouth. The Na'vi man only rides your mouth faster, growling incoherently, precum leaking down your throat, making it tickle and threaten to make you cough or choke. Sensing he was close, you flex your tongue just underneath his length, hallowing your cheeks to the point his thrusts leave the most grotesque, sucking noises to fill the air.

"Yawntu-" Tsu'tey cut himself off with a snarl, his muzzle scrunching up like an angry thanator, "Kalweyaveng-!"

He's so deep in your throat that your nose bumps his pelvis, feeling his muscles tighten in his abdomen as he starts shooting his cum down your throat with one last thrust, driving himself as deep as possible while gasping for breath. You don't even dare close your eyes no matter how good it feels, watching his face contort above you, eyes closed as his brow ridge scrunched up as if in pain, and his mouth open while panting for air, loosening his grip on your kuru. He's still emptying his load as he slowly starts to pull out, the last couple of streams of his seed splashing over your lips and cheek. You close your mouth to swallow before your lips fall open to gulp down the air as if your life depended on it, your gaze flicking back up to him with half-lidded eyes. 

Tsu'tey's tail twitches behind him at the sight of your flushed and marked face. While the heat of his lust has dimmed slightly from his eyes, the way he looked at you made everything in your body instinctively tighten, forcing both you and Jake to start spiraling to your own orgasms.

Jake whines every time he pushes his cock back inside your wet heat, a ring of white cream now forming around his thickness every time he stretches your puffy ring, "Ah, ah, ah-!"

The first spurts of his seed filling your womb sends your eyes to roll back as you clamp down around his cock, forcing him to stop thrusting and just empty everything he has as deep as possible, painting your walls. You moan loudly as the warmth in the pit of your stomach bursts, flooding your body with euphoria, a high you have never been able to recreate without your husband, but this time it only felt better with both he and Tsu'tey pumping you full from both ends.

As usual, Jake's ears twitch erratically as the edge of his orgasm begins to fade, leaving him blubbering nonsense as he tries to ride it out longer, "Ohhhh, baby. That's it... oh, fuck. Clenching me so tight... god, I never want to leave this tight little thing. Took us so well. Our little doll."

Instead of replying, the overstimulation as Jake faintly moves his hips to form shallow thrusts makes you whine and reach forward to bite the inside of Tsu'tey's thigh, eliciting a deep sound in the back of his throat as his hand tightens in your hair once more, "Mawey, sevin."

Jake chuckles and slowly pulls out, groaning while watching a large amount of cum leak out of your abused slit, his tail already curling with interest, "Take her real quick so I can grab a cloth."

As if you weighed nothing, Jake takes your hips and lifts you up, passing you to Tsu'tey like the doll he claims you to be. Your face practically magnetizes to the crook of the olo'eyktan's neck, the corded muscle flexing beneath your lips as you playfully bite him stirring a small wave of amusement through you. Tsu'tey harrumphs while tightening his arms around you, his previous hesitance no longer there.

"Did I mention she bites?" Jake smirks while finding a cloth and wetting it down, moving back over to the two of you.

Tsu'tey scoffs faintly, but there wasn't any malice behind his tone, too exhausted and surprisingly relaxed to care while watching Jake dip the cloth between your legs.

As your gasp quietly at the feel, Jake dips his head down to whisper hotly in your ear, "So, tomorrow night... how do you feel about breaking your link and keeping both yourself and your avatar here so Tsu'tey and I can fuck both of your pussys?"

Taglist: @pandoraslxna @inolaphoenix @neteyamsoare @mooniequeen @avatar-lover @taronyuhunter @ikeyniofthetayrangi @neteyamssyulang @sullybrothersmate @rivatar avatar4eva @bdudette

[dearhargrove]

summary A sleepy morning with cuddly Sam.

word count 820

masterlist

There's few things you're always ready to spend money on. One of them is a funfair. The overall vibe, the attractions, the food and just the nostalgia of being a kid is exactly the reason you loved them so much. So, when you were out a few days ago and saw posters all over town advertising an upcoming funfair you already marked your calendar.

Today is a free day; no case, no research to be done – nothing. And also the day of the funfair. You're a bit embarrassed over just how excited you are, barely able to fall asleep yesterday and now awake at seven in the morning. You desperately try to go back to sleep so as not to disturb Sam, who's deep asleep next to you with his hair spread out around his head like a halo and his left arm snug around you.

But your attempt to keep calm seems to have failed when he groans and squints at you, “Baby?” he slurs half-awake. You wince apologetically and turn onto your side, “Sorry, didn't mean to wake you,” you whisper back.

He mumbles something incorrigible and then yawns heartily, free hand pushing hair out of his face before falling back into his stomach. “'s okay, hun,” he mumbles to stop you from feeling guilty and turns his head, smiling tiredly.

“We should sleep some more, it's barely eight in the morning, Sam..” he just waves his hand in dismissal and heaves himself onto his side, supported on his elbow. You can see the slight redness in his eyes from just waking up but his soft smile distracts you anyway.

“Why are you awake this early, pretty girl?” he lowly muses, letting his other hand rest on your cheek, thumb running under your eye. The pet name paired with the soft actions and the sight of him makes you melt and scoot forward to tangle your legs between his, throwing an arm over his waist.

“I'm excited,” you admit, sheepish as you push the hand on his back under his shirt to warm it up and at the same time give him a back rub. A soft frown of confusion settles on his face – which you immediately soothe away with a thumb smoothing out the wrinkle between his neat brows – and he makes a soft ‘oh’ sound.

“Excited for what? We don't have any plans today?” You can see the flicker of dread on his face as he passes through the possibility of a forgotten date or anniversary, making you snort softly. “We do. I made plans for us.” He raises his brows but doesn't intervene, letting you finish explaining. “There's a funfair in town.. I really want to go there with you and Dean.”

You bite your lip as you await his reaction, not expecting at all when he just snorts and pulls you even closer, pressing a kiss to your head. “That's why you've been in such a good mood?” he chuckles, bemused.

You pout a bit at his humorous reaction, making him lean down to kiss you shortly, “Don't pout. I wasn't mocking you, sweetheart. Of course we'll go with you.”

Grinning, you pull him into another kiss, this time deeper but still rushed from the excitement coursing through you. He chases after your lips when you pull away too early for his liking, simply pushing you down into the mattress with one big hand when you attempt to squirm away.

“We've got plenty of time before we can go.” He murmurs against your jaw, nipping there once before moving down lower to your throat and leaving similar small bites on your soft skin. He's making sure not to mark you up too much, instead pulling the collar of your shirt down to decorate your collarbones and shoulders with actual love bites and hickeys.

Sighing in mock annoyance you slip your hand out of his shirt and into his hair, tugging at the long strands which just makes him grunt in contentment.

You close your eyes again and play with his soft hair while he leaves marks all over you, soothing each new one with a bout of kisses. His arm is tight enough around your waist that you know he intends for you to lay still and take whatever he'll give – which you don't mind in the least.

After a few minutes he stops and lays his head on your chest, tip of his nose a bit cold from the room being chilly as he tucks it against your throat to keep breathing in your perfume and natural scent.

“Back to sleep?” you guess quietly, already pulling the duvet higher around his shoulders and sinking your hand back into those brown locks to scratch at his scalp the way he loves. He grunts in acknowledgement, arm momentarily tightening around you.

“Good idea.”

[kaivenom]

Since February 9th is my birthday I got an idea, how about what one piece dilfs do on your birthday?

What the OP Dilfs do on your birthday

Characters: Doflamingo, Mihawk, Crocodile, Smoker, Shanks

A/N: oowwwww, happy birthdayyyy, i am so glad that you asked me for this.

Masterlist

Dracule Mihawk

He prefers a rather small event, just him and you, maybe Perona and even Zoro if he can.

But if you want a party with other people, then he would try to tolerate other peoples presence.

Picture this: the backyard of your families house, all with balloons, food and all your relatives from all ages.

Then Mihawk with a glass of wine having to stand children and annoying aunts.

When you didn't found him anywhere, you searched for him and found him with your grandma (or another old female relative) gossiping.

When you left the house and finally are alone, he finally gave you your gift... probably jewelry.

Donquixote Doflamingo

He doesn't make it an official holiday but every one takes it like that cause there is a parade all over the city.

Like a Valentine's day 2.0

Privately he does a big feast on the castle and it's the only time you got to sit on the throne (and not his lap).

Like he says "You are the queen for the day"

He even orders some people to do humilliating things to make you laugh, but you have to stop him and reassure him that you just need to be with him on the moment.

Every one of the crew was invited to the party which means that Doflamingo ordered them the exact gift they have to get you, so you can have everything you want.

Baby 5 told you his plan so you went to thank him for the party and for being so sweet and lovely, at least for your special day.

Sr. Crocodile

A surprise trip, to anywhere you want like... you woke up and he asked you were you wanted to go, you said and hours later there you are.

You went to all the sites you wanted and he even ordered some fireworks for midnight.

He reserved on your favourite restaurant and he even "asked" (he literally threatened their families) to do your favourite cake.

Of course, all the things you've been wanting since christmas, he got them from you.

In the case the trip couldn't be made cause you already had plans with friends and family, expect him to celebrate before you go and wait for you to continue celebrating.

He understands that you can share your time with other people and he won't interfere but he absolutely would use all the other time you had.

Quality time and gifts are his love language so expect that a lot.

Smoker

You both go a day out at work for personal affairs.

He mades you breakfast and put it on the bed, this day, you are the only thing on his life.

You do everything you want this day: a picnic? done, a fancy restaurant? movies and popcorn?

All of it? also yes.

He even tries to cook himself a birthday cake but the attend gets so bad that you had to help him.

He is reticent about it but when you suggested him that this is the perfect couple birthday activity, he accepted.

The ussual movie flour fight type of thing, but you ended up doing the dessert and you finally made your wish.

But there is no better wish than to have spent the day with him.

Akagami Shanks

You are free from all your responsabilities on the ship.

You are the first to be served on lunch and everyone left you alone to be at peace.

More than that the day went awfully normal, even with Shanks, you started to even feel crazy cause nobody even said "good birthday" but they clearly know due to their behaviour.

Then Shanks ordered to arrive on an island without warning, was almost night so you decided to go to your room, a little sad about the day.

So, half an hour later, Shanks lifted you up and forced you outside, to the night, and you saw how they had prepared a surprise party.

You almost slapped all of them for the secretism but you know you have a soft spot for these idiots.

Food, alcohol and cake passed among everyone and lasted all night.

Shanks took the moment when they all were drunk to be more affectionate and attentive with you, showing you how much love he was acumulating all day for the brithday girl

[luveline]

Could I request stripper reader and post prison Spencer being all domestic? I just think Spencer deserved to have someone take care of him after that

thank you for requesting! ♡ fem

cw spencer makes a weight related joke about reader but he is one hundred percent kidding/is talking about carrying the reader and not her actual body weight, pls don't read if it will upset you

“How's it feel now?” you ask. 

Spencer glances down at you from the TV. If he had his way since being released from prison, you would spend the majority of time in his lap, and the TV would not be on, but you're trying not to smother him and he's content to let you do what you want, so long as you're in arm's reach. 

“How does what feel?” he asks, frowning. 

“Your leg? You know, the one you stabbed yourself in?” 

“Fine. Surface wound. Hey, are you almost done?” 

“No. I'm making you a mug cosy.” 

“Could you not come up here and make me cosy?” 

You put your little crochet hook and yarn ball on the floor near the paper pattern you're following. “That's way too cheesy a thing to say for a felon.” You grin at him. “Good for you, I'm awful at this,” —you climb onto your knees, arms out to him as he grabs you and pulls you onto the couch— “and I don't want to do it anymore.” 

“Then don't.” He smiles as you settle against him, half on top of him, your pyjamas soft against his bare arms and legs. “I'm not a felon.” 

“I'm kidding,” you say gently. 

He puts his hand against the top of your head and forces you backwards a touch to meet his eyes. “I know.” 

You glare at him. He decides he'd like to play too and glares back. 

“Crochet is very difficult.” 

Spencer lets you drop back into his chest. “You're good at enough things already,” he says. “Like not going to prison, and being heavy.” 

You bear down on him with more weight, a laugh slipping from you unbidden. He loves how startled you sound to have laughed, and how nice you smell as you push your arm under his back to hug him. “That's sick,” you mumble, your free hand toying with the soft neck of his shirt. You pull it down, kissing the skin between his collarbone. “You can't call me heavy. That's so mean.” 

“I love you,” he says. 

You smile into his chest. “I love you too, even though you said I'm heavy.” 

“Relatively, when you're making me carry you to bed at night–” 

“I don't do that,” you laugh guiltily. “No, you've got me mixed up with someone else.” 

“Well, let's just stay here tonight.” Your phone beeps. “Or not.” 

You press yourself into his neck and talk warmth into the curve. “I'm not going anywhere, Spencer. I'm staying right here, forever. And in ten years you'll have huge muscles from carrying me to bed.” 

“And your thigh muscles will have atrophied.” 

“Like those, do you?” 

“As much as I like every part of you. You're the most beautiful girl in the world.” 

You snore. Spencer laughs, jostling you on his chest, and you drop the facade to kiss his throat in slow, meandering presses of the lips, no one place in mind, just warm half moons turned a little wider as you go. He breathes out slowly. Kisses like this are the ones that plagued him late at night, when the mind ran out of worry and turned to missing you instead. He would've given anything two weeks ago to have you laying on him like this, and now he has it for nothing. Just ‘cos you love him. 

“Are you gonna go back?” he asks quietly. 

“To the club?” You draw a short line into his neck with your nose. “Sure, once you're feeling better.” 

“I'm alright. I am.” 

“Until I'm feeling better, then,” you say, putting your hand on his cheek. You have slightly longer nails than when he went away, and the tips of them tickle his freshly shaven cheek as you turn his face to yours. “I'll go back just as soon as I stop missing you when you're in the bathroom. Or I run out of money.” 

“Don't be childish,” he says.

“I'm not, I'm being realistic.” 

“Realistically, I'll take care of you.” 

You sigh happily and kiss him. That happiness passes between you in shivers, until Spencer's hot under the collar and you're giggling. “What's funny?” he asks. 

“Maybe I'll get a job at the grocery store.” 

Spencer doesn't know what you'll do, but he'll be there for you like you were there for him. “Good idea. You can be a checkout girl and I'll stay home, looking at pictures of you and crying while you're gone.” 

You nudge him. “Don't make fun of me for that! It was a long month and a half without you, Spencer.” 

He closes his eyes and rests his forehead on yours. “I'm not making fun of you. It was the same for me, you know? Just didn't have a picture of you.” 

[zatrinaxxx]

U DONT WANNA KISS ME?...

Bakugo Katsuki x reader

No warning, pure fluff

It was late, late enough for a simple get-together to escalate into something more.

Your classmates from Class 1A were gathered in Kaminari's room, where they had arranged to meet earlier to watch a movie and play some board games. Those plans were turned upside down when Sero and Mina took four bottles of vodka out of their backpacks and proposed a game of truth or dare.

That didn't go so well. Poor Deku was curled up in a corner with Denki's desk trash can next to him covered in vomit. Uraraka had long since passed out in bed, and Shoto had already heated and cooled his glass so much that he'd broken three from thermal shock.

Bakugo, Sero, Denki, Mina, Eijiro, and you were left unpunished (though not that much).

-My turn- Mina foolishly wriggles in place, stretching out to spin the bottle. -YES!- she shouts excitedly when the bottle's mouth points toward you. -Ready, cutie, truth or dare?- Your drunken brain didn't consider the question before answering, much less set off alerts when it saw Mina's evil face. "You foolishly challenge me, sitting on your knees, trying to maintain your balance.

-I dare you to kiss Bakugou-chan- Your laugh thinking it's a joke.

-Come on, Minitaaa- you laugh again- give me my dare- you hiccup. She laughs.

-That's your dare.- Suddenly, your drunkenness subsided, and you regained consciousness, sitting up properly. A strangled giggle escaped your mouth.

-I'll pass.- You reached out to grab the vodka bottle next to Denki to pour yourself a shot, and before your fingernail could scrape the bottle cap with your finger.

-Sorry, kiddo, but you've already finished your 3 skips.- You paled, and not because you found Bakugo ugly (you'd be crazy to think that), but the guy was terrifying. His tone of voice, his way of addressing people, his attitude, and an endless number of things that, if you listed them, would take you two nights to finish.

You don't know how to kiss. You've gotten drunker than you've kissed, and this is only your second time drunk. Your recovered lucidity makes you get up and start gathering your things while you shake your head.

-Hey, what are you doing?- Shoto stops you by the wrist, his palm burning your skin. -You can't leave. You haven't done your dare- you shake your head.

-Fuck the dare, I'm going to my dorm.-You bolt out of there like a bullet, unaware that your decision didn't leave the one you feared the most happy.

You're leaving your last class, a little late since the teacher asked you to help her pick up the supplies that had been used, the school is empty, logical since at this hour everyone is in extracurricular activities or just resting. Your thoughts wander trying not to feel upset about what happened yesterday and how ridiculous you probably looked running away from the dorm in terror, you thought you wouldn't remember it but your mind has been torturing you all fucking day. You don't blame Mina, or the boys, everyone did and said stupid things that night so you didn't feel upset but unconsciously you took your space, you needed a break.

You're yanked back by your backpack, abruptly throwing you back. You waste no time and are free of the bag in the blink of an eye, ready to fight anyone. When you realize who it is, you freeze.

-What the hell is wrong with you?- his voice echoes in your eardrums, and your defensive posture falters.

-Bakugo- his name comes out of your mouth, scared but relieved that it's not someone trying to hurt you. -I don't know what you mean.- He hands you your backpack. You raise a trembling hand to take it, but before you can, he drops it in frustration.

-This is what I mean- he growls. -This fucking shit. I still don't understand what the fuck I did to you to make you fear me and feel like I stomped your fucking hamster to death.- Your backpack falls to the floor with a thud that startles you. He runs his hands over his face, completely frustrated. -I've tried every fucking way to get close to you, but every time I try, you find a way to get away. Do I scare you?-

-N...no, it's not like that, Bakugo-

-It's not like that?!- He raises his voice as his hands come up to squeeze his blond hair with even more frustration. -You're babbling! BABBLING!,Pale as if you've seen a fucking ghost- she squeals- I... I don't know what else to do, honestly, we're in the same group, we have the same friends, damn- he snorts a strange laugh- we go out together every day and yet you seem disgusted to have me around- he rubs his eyes tiredly.

- Bakugou... -

- I sit next to you at lunch and it's like the devil sat next to you, I still don't understand how you do it but in a damn blink you're on the other end, I try to walk by your side but you practically run to be next to the others, fuck, you'd rather be next to that wanker Denki than next to me... Did I do something to you?- his tone of voice sounds defeated and your heart crumples. You take a step towards him but he continues talking.

-I know I'm a shitty person and I treat people badly, but ever since I've known you, I've tried not to be. Even when those damn extras annoy me. I try to swear a lot, but I can't. I regulate my tone of voice in front of you to see if that makes you love me, even a little.- He murmurs the last words, but you can hear them perfectly. -Do I disgust you? Is that why you don't want to kiss me?- His crimson eyes pierce your soul, and you see something you never thought you'd see in him: fear. His gaze reflected fear and shame, and you can't resist it. You throw yourself at him so tightly that you both stagger. You hug him tightly, pressing him against you while squeezing your face into his chest, whimpering.

-I don't hate you Bakugo, I would never hate you- you poke your nose lifting your head to look him in the eyes- the truth is I'm a little scared of you- you laugh nervously- And all this time I thought you hated me so I kept moving away so as not to make you uncomfortable, besides...- you move away a little from him wiping your cheeks with the back of your hand, you feel your face turn red- I don't know how to kiss- you confess and he looks at you in a trance.

-I didn't kiss you last night, not because I didn't want to. Even though you scare me, I find you quite attractive. I just thought you'd be disgusted and laugh at me because I don't know how to kiss, not because I didn't want to...- Your words stumble as his lips crash against yours in a rough but soulful kiss, as if on cue. Your eyes close and your body melts against his. One of his hands moves down to hold you by the waist and the other rests on your face. His mouth moves at a slow pace in almost perfect harmony, both mouths fitting together as if it were the last piece of a 1,000-piece puzzle found after a long time. You struggle to pull away from him for lack of air, but he refuses, holding you tighter against him. But the air is stronger than both of you, so you move away slightly.

-Are you still afraid of me?-he murmurs in a small voice. You shake your head, burying your face in his broad chest. -Good.-You feel him place his chin on the crown of your head, his chest expanding with an exhalation. -Because I'm hard, and I assure you, you won't escape this.- A laugh escapes you and you move away from him.

-God, you know how to ruin a romantic moment.

💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥

HELLO omg I'm so excited to be back, although I never really left, I just had a huge block and 200 unfinished drafts.

I doubt anyone remembers me or is still active on my page, but if you are, don't forget to leave a heart.

Disclaimer:English is not my first language. If you see any mistakes, please don't hesitate to tell me as long as it is done with respect to maintain a beautiful community.

I hope you like it. I have tons of ideas about Bakugo and tons of other characters. If you want to read more, don't forget to let me know. I LOVE YOU, LITTLE PERSON AT HOME. Try to stay hydrated.

[sturnslutz]

longing

2k words, cursing, fluff mainly, the start of something new, it feels so right, to be here with you, ohhhhh!!!! (high school musical reference and if u didn't get it, pls educate urself bc matt and goldie both have a unknowing love for high school musical)

you hated being an outsider. sure, it was nice to get some quiet time to study, or to edit your pictures. but other times, it was just plain lonely.

photography has been your passion for who knows how long. you had begged your parents for a camera when you were younger, and you loved taking pictures. it was something you were good at, and you loved doing it.

when you learned that one of the triplets had joined the photography club as another member, you couldn't believe it. you were the first and only member of the club for most of high school, but nick joining made it even better.

you and nick quickly became friends, and he loved the fact that the both of you were so passionate about photography and that he has someone else that he could geek over taking pictures with.

it didn't take long for him to tell you almost everything about him. you had already known somewhat about him, because how couldn't you? his brothers were some of the most known people in the school.

matt and chris. star lacrosse players. the ones who first started the lacrosse team. once their team grew, which was oddly quick, you were quickly called to start taking pictures for the school website, the team instagram, the yearbook, etc.

that's how your crush on matt became. he was beautiful, and he moved with such ease. he was both goalie and defense and you took the most pictures of him, without even realizing it.

once nick and you became friends, he quickly caught on to your crush on his brother. it was blatantly obvious, anyway. whenever matt had passed by you and nick talking in the halls, sometimes sparing a small glance at you, nick saw how you traced matt's movements with your eyes.

nick wasn't against it at all either, more so trying to get the both of you together. more likely the whole school knew about matt and his messy past relationship with his ex, violet. she was the school "mean girl" as some call it. she just loved attacked the quieter kids, and that included you.

matt and her have been together and broken up more times than people can count, and some even have a bet on when they're getting back together. this time is currently the longest they've been broken up, and it's been about 4 weeks. it's clear that violet has been trying to get matt's attention again, but you've noticed he isn't really reciprocating it.

"she's like all over him again. he was telling me how he's getting so fucking annoyed and- fuck sorry this sandwich is too good." nick said as took a bite out of his turkey sandwich while talking. you two were currently at the local cafe, one that everyone goes to whenever they're free.

"don't choke on me now, i don't know the heimlich." you giggled softly before taking a small sip out of your iced coffee. "knowing that if i choke and possibly die, and the most you can do is just stare at me hurts my soul, goldie. cmon now." he exaggerates as he shakes his head, before taking another bite.

"but as i was saying, he's sick of her. he wants them to be officially done, and he's told her, but she just keeps ignoring him. you would be so much better for him, i'm telling you." you sigh, looking down at your cup, swishing it around softly.

"we don't even know each other like that, and i doubt he even knows who i am." nick scoffs, laughing. "he knows who you are, bitch. i talk about you all the fucking time with them, you guys just need to actually talk, he'll warm up to you soon enough."

you shrug softly, looking around at the people around you. "i don't know. you know i will freeze if i ever talk to him, to anyone really." he laughs, nodding. "trust me, i know. remember first day i walked into photo club and you looked at me like you saw a ghost? had me overthinkin' and thought i had shit on my face."

you were about to say something, but the cafe door opened, the bell on top ringing indicating someone entered. you and nick both turned to look curiously, and your heart dropped.

matt, chris, violet, and some other lacrosse players and some of violet's friends walk in, them all loud in conversation. nick turned around, eyes wide. "i did not know they were going to be here. fuck-" his words are interupted as chris yells his name loudly, getting some stares from others in the cafe.

"nick! we didn't know you would be here!" he says as he walks over, ruffling up nick's hair a bit, before looking up at you. his face twists a bit in confusion but stays silent. "um, you're... maddie? no- wait. sophia? fuck no. i'm sorry, what's your name?" he asks, genuinely a bit embarrassed that he didn't know your name, or even nickname.

"her name's goldie. and can you guys not walk over here? we were having a private conversation." nick says, answering for you. chris smiles a bit at you at the remembrance of your name, giving you a small nod before looking down at nick. "didn't mean to interrupt, my bad. matt's probably gonna say hi, then we'll leave you alone."

you look up once again, past chris, seeing matt walking over. violet trails behind him, seemingly talking to matt but he's just ignoring her. he meets your eye for a second as he's walking over, before breaking it and looking at chris and nick.

nick looks at you again, having an apologetic look in his eyes. your heart begins racing, and you can't miss the way heat rushes to your face, before desperately drinking your iced coffee, something cold to at least try to bring the heat down a bit.

"yo, what's up kid." matt mutters as he pats nick's back, slightly turning his head to see if violet is still behind him, and when she is, he rolls his eyes, gaining a small snicker out of chris.

matt looks over at you, with almost the same confused face chris had, but he talks. "you're goldie right? we have pre calc together." he says softly, examining you. your face is probably red as a beet right now, but you still manage to nod. "y-yeah. we do." he nods, looking over you once more, smiling softly before engaging in a bit of small talk with chris as violet remains glued behind him. "that drink looks good as fuck, goldie. what is that?" chris says abruptly, but softly not to spook you.

"um, it's the iced vanilla coffee with extra caramel." chris looks at matt, who's looking at you, nodding. "that sounds really good." matt says softly, running a hand through his hair before looking down at his phone for something.

nick looks at you with wide, happy eyes and smiles. you tuck a piece of hair behind your ear before looking back down into your drink, the ice seemingly becoming more interesting than everything else.

matt says something to nick before talking to you again. "me and chris are gonna go buy some shit then we'll leave. nice seeing you, goldie." he says, before walking away with chris. you nod, smiling up at him as your eyes follow after him. what you didn't notice was violet's glare at you as matt walked away, before she quickly followed after him.

nick lets out a quiet, high pitched squeal, grabbing your right hand tightly. "you talked to him! that's such a big step, gold. and he knew who you were, and recognized you. im freaking out for you." you giggle softly, nodding. "i know, im probably as red as a fucking cherry though."

he shrugs. "who even cares. not like they haven't blushed before. did you see violet's face when he was talking to you?" you shook your head. "she was looking at me? i didn't even notice." you say softly, smiling at your joke. nick laughs, "she's such a fucking attention seeker, always starting shit for no reason. i'll watch out for you, though. who knows what that wicked bitch could do."

your eyes drift back to matt, and watch him as the barista called his name. "matt, medium iced vanilla coffee with extra caramel!" that's the exact same thing you got. matt looks over a bit, feeling someone's stare on him. once he notices it's you, he smirks a bit, taking a sip of the drink and nodding, before turning back around to his friends.

"he got the same thing i got." you whisper so quietly, nick almost didn't hear you. "what?" he said, as your eyes look back over to him. "chris asked me what drink i got, and matt said it sounds really good, and he ordered the same thing. when he noticed i was looking, he smirked and nodded. that can't be a fucking coincidence, right?"

nick shakes his head no while smiling. "maybe he's longing for you too."

a little bit after that, matt and chris and their friends head out, nick and you leaving a short time after that. you were currently in bed, doing some homework while on facetime with nick. "i just had the craziest fucking idea, and you might hate me for it." nick says, after some silence between you two.

"i won't hate you, what is it?" you say, paying no real attention to him as your fingers continued typing virgoursly across the keyboard. "when i came home, matt and chris were talking about him and violet, and chris was saying how matt needs to date someone else, and matt said something along the lines of, "i mean i think i'm ready, i just don't know who it would be. every girl in the school is friends with violet." so guess who i thought of? you. you aren't friends with her!"

nick's words spike interest in your head, as you look over at him with a confused look. "okay.. and your point is?" nick set up his phone on his desk, smiling. "i want to give matt your number."

you stop typing completely, with your breath caught in your throat. "no, nick. absolutely no way." "cmon, goldie! just hear me out. i mention to him i have a friend he could be interested in, and i give him your number. but the twist is, i don't tell him who you are."

"how the fuck is that going to work? he's never gonna talk to some girl who he doesn't even know." nick tsks, shaking his head. "he has a secret he doesn't tell anyone, not anyone besides me and chris. he loves that slowburn, mystery shit. y'know the movies where it's like longing and sappy romance shit? he loves that. actually obsessed with it, even. so i don't have any doubt he'll actually be against the idea."

"nick, i don't know. is that not weird?" you say softly, fidgeting with your hair. "relax, it's not. and i'll even tell him that you know, and it's only him that doesn't. it'll give you both the opportunity to get to know each other, and you won't be as scared as much to talk to him. who knows, maybe it'll be love." he smirks as he moves his eyebrows, as you let out a little laugh.

"okay, fine. let's do it." nick cheers. "okay, when i go back downstairs, i'll ask to talk to him privately so it won't be weird in front of chris. knowing matt, he'll probably be just a teensy bit hesitant, but i'll get him to warm up to it. this is going to be great, goldie."

"yeah, let's hope so." after a bit more time, nick hangs up, letting you know that he's going downstairs to go talk to matt.

after about 20 minutes, your phone vibrates. you still, not making a move to check it yet, but when another text comes in, you can't help yourself.

***-***-**** | 23:43

"hey mystery girl"

"it's matt but u prob know that already"

divider creds: @sisterlucifergraphics

taglist 1: @muwapsturniolo @lovergirl4gracieabrams @m4ttg1rl @lypsiiii @tyummyz @sturniqlo @emely9274 @shadowthesim @mattsobvimyfav @sturnl0ve @wastelandzella @fallininlust @chrisslut04 @sophand4n4 @vainilladollie @slutforchrissturniolo2 @ncm9696 @snoopychris @ilovedanielcaesar @sofieeeeex @chr0mehrts @cockettechris @iloveduckssm @stvrnioloslvt @sturn777 @priscillaog @allylovescody @sturniolo101 @mattssslutbby @mattybsgroupie @mattysketchup @m11rx @slut4brunettes @trevorsgodmother @chrislova @slut4christopherr @sturns-mermaid @oopsiedaisydeer @conspiracy-ash @p1mpactivities @sweeetbabysblog @brooklyncameron @chrisgetsmewetter @h3arts4harry @jetaimevous @starstrucktyrantinfluencer @raesturns @sturnsrecord @matteatmeout @luvvs4chriss

[postracehair]

say again

george russell x reader | 3.9k

three times george curses. or, a beginning, a middle, and a future.

cw: george cursing. a few scrapes and a little bit of blood, some kissing, and a love confession to boot.

a/n: this kind of ran away from me, especially in the middle but every time george russell says fuck an angel gets its wings. written ages ago but posting in honor of Las Vegas.

---

YOU'VE GOT TO BE FUCKING KIDDING ME

The door buzzes and you let yourself into the building.

You've only been here a few times, but a match day spent with your coworker and some of her friends is better than sitting on your couch alone, right? Wine and cookies in hand, you trudge up two flights of stairs to her flat. By the time you reach the landing, you can already hear the chatter and the TV.

No one seems to hear your knock so you push the door open and gingerly step in. The kitchen is on the other side of the flat, and you assume everyone is somewhere between there and the television.

But when you pass the living room where the TV actually is, there's just one guy on the couch. Leaning forward, elbows on his knees watching a penalty get called.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me," he says to no one.

You snicker. He whirls around. "Hello," you say.

"Sorry," he says, standing immedietly. Wow, he's tall. "Sorry, hello."

Oh, and he's familiar. You know him, kind of. He's -- god, he races cars, right? Shit, what is his name? Your coworker has social connections you barely understand so it's not really a surprise to find someone who is probably famous in her flat.

"It is just you, then?" you ask. He laughs and runs a hand through his hair. Dressed in jeans and a team jumper, his casual outfit is at odds with the severe cut of his jaw, his cheekbones. He just looks expensive.

"No," he says. "No, everyone is putting plates together. I'm afraid I might be the one most interested in watching the match."

"Not going well?" you say lightly.

He rounds the sofa, hand out. "Could be better," he says. "I'm George."

You readjust the items in your hands to shake his and tell him your name. He repeats it, and you smile.

"Let me go put these down," you say, "and then, um. Do you want some company, George?"

Honestly, you're not sure where that came from. But, though you came here to escape the smothering loneliness of your own flat, something about him makes you want to stay here rather than go into the kitchen with everyone else.

"'Course I do," he says. "I promise to tighten up my language. Won't do for that to be my first impression."

You wave him away though your cheeks feel a little hot and head for the kitchen.

Your coworker brightens at seeing you and takes your hostess gifts with ease.

"The match is on in the other room," she tells you, "but most of us are drinking in here."

"I saw," you say. "I met George."

She hears something in your tone that turns her expression something between amused and calculating. "You did, did you?"

You just nod, loading up a plate with the various nibbles. "How do you know him, anyway?"

She shrugs. "Oh, you know." No, you don't, but she plows on. "What did you think?"

"Taller than he seems on TV," you mutter. "But very polite. He shook my hand."

That gets her to laugh. "Oh, of course he did. Well, don't stand around in here with us. Go chat up a Formula 1 driver!"

George is back on the couch when you return, arm stretched over the back of it, brows furrowed.

"Has anything exciting happened?" you ask him, sitting down with a perfectly responsible distance between you.

He grimaces. "Nothing good. Wolverhampton, bless 'em, are quite bad."

That might explain why no one is watching this match with him, but you keep that to yourself.

"I see," you say, solemnly. "But loyalty is loyalty, I suppose, if they're your club."

"Exactly," George says. "It's suffering but it has to be done." Someone on the screen triggers a free kick and George leans in until it's over. He starts talking about one of the players being traded, or his contract being renegotiated, or something. You nibble on your plate and just watch. He's animated, this man. Fringe falling over his forehead the more he gestures, blue eyes wide and serious. It's all very endearing.

"Sorry," he says suddenly. "I'm being so rude. You don't want to hear about all of this, do you?"

You smile at him. "I don't mind. I came over for some company more than anything else."

He sinks back into the couch a little, hand running through his hair again. "Well, lucky for me that you did," he says.

Your face feels hot and you don't want to mistake this for flirting if it's not. He is a world-famous athlete, after all, but here you are on the couch next to him. "Lucky for you, indeed."

He laughs, delighted.

OH, SHIT!

This is not how you saw your life going, but maybe that's just the nature of it. Big moments happen just the same as small ones and we have to handle them regardless. The trajectory of your life shifted just a little bit when you sat down on someone else's couch to watch a football match with a stranger.

Because that stranger -- George -- is now much more than that. He asked for your number that day before he had to leave earlier than everyone else, and has been speaking to you ever since. Texts, phone calls, FaceTimes. And, when he's not driving hundreds of miles an hour halfway across the world, he likes to spend time with you.

They're dates, you know they are. But things are still casual, immensely so. Coffee, dinner, long walks through the park. It's probably past due that you ask him what he'd like out of this, but your friends tell you to just have fun for the time being. You've learned a lot about him in the last month or so, both from him directly and by doing your research.

You'd watched a few Grand Prix before meeting him but not with any kind of rapt attention. Now, obviously, you watch with purpose. See him zip around the track, read his radio messages, hope desperately that he'll be alright. He's a big mix of things, George Russell. Witty but determined, thorough but reactionary, polite but intense. You want to keep getting to know him on a personal level and measure that up to how he appears to the world.

Today, you're on one of those long walks. George is recounting the last race at your request. It's always more interesting to hear him talk about what happened than watching it, though you're really growing to love that part, too.

It's a bit chilly and he's got a scarf on in addition to a nondescript hat pulled down low over his eyes. You're used to this by now, though you wish you could see his face more fully.

"And then -- well, I'm sure you saw this bit -- he turned right into me like I wasn't even there!"

"But you avoided it," you remind him. "I saw that, too." A cold wind blows down the path and you shiver a bit.

"You alright?" he asks. "Nippy, huh?" He stops walking and turns to you, his huge hands coming to rest on your shoulders before he rubs them up and down your arms.

"A bit," you agree, a little breathless. God, you really need to talk to him about what this is. You're thinking about him all the time, which is a bit of a nuisance, as you're not sure he's feeling the same. But, a small voice in your head tells you, you can't be too far off in thinking that it might be based on the way he's looking at you right now.

Even under the cap, you can see the soft set of his brow, the way his eyes are shining. The gentle quirk up of his mouth. What would it be like to kiss him? Would he let you?

George stops his warming efforts, catching your hands in his. "Better?"

All you can do is nod. He grins, looking a bit too pleased, and starts walking again, you in tow. This is something else you've learned about him -- he really can be a cheeky bastard. He must have more than some idea as to how he affects you and enjoys it. It's somewhere between a game and a challenge.

You're thinking about ways you can get him back, ways you can flirt mercilessly. His hand is in yours and he's half a step ahead of you when suddenly your fingers are ripped from his and you find yourself on your hands and knees with a gasp.

George is immediately there with you.

"Oh, shit," he says. "Are you alright?"

"I--" You're a bit too stunned to say anything. George rarely curses, which is funny given how you met, but it unsettles you a little bit as much as it warms you. "I think I tripped?"

"Let me see your hands," he says, gently tugging at your wrists with his long fingers. He sucks on his teeth when he sees your palms. "Not too bad, but a little scratched."

You rearrange yourself so you're flat on your bum, legs in front of you. Your hands might be alright but your knees are another story. The fabric of your jeans isn't ripped but you can see the bloodstains already.

"Oh," you say. You look up at George, feeling a bit pathetic. "This is embarrassing."

He scoffs. "No, it's not," he says. "I do think we should get you cleaned up, though."

"We can go to my place," you suggest. The sting sets in a little more, but mingles with your chagrin and you just set your jaw. "Help me up?"

"Brave girl," George says. He presses his lips to the base of your wrist and stands, tugging you up as he goes. "Have you got first aid things at your flat?"

You nod, running through the contents of your bathroom in your mind. It occurs to you that George has not been to your place before, and you did not mentally prepare yourself to bring him there today.

George gently says your name. "Let's get a cab, shall we?"

It takes no time at all to flag one down. George removes his hat in what you can clearly see as an effort to get the cabbie to hurry along a bit, but it seems to work. He takes one look at you, one more at George, and steps on it.

"Let me get your belt," George mutters, making quick work of the buckle.

"I don't think I've ever worn a seatbelt in a cab in my life, George," you reply. He just pats your thigh.

"Think we've had enough injuries for one day, don't you?"

George and the cabbie chat about the race season, about how hot it really is in Singapore, about one of George's recent podiums. He keeps you tucked into his side the whole time -- he's ignored his own seatbelt, you notice -- hand on your thigh. You keep your palms turned up on your knees and wonder how on earth you got here.

The city flies by and you lean your head on his shoulder. You can feel something shifting between you, something clicking into place that wasn't entirely settled before. It's scary, it's exciting, it's big. It's something you're going to have to talk about.

George pays the driver in some large bills and helps you out of the cab and up the steps of your building.

"Where are your keys?" he asks.

"Front right pocket of my jeans."

"Pardon my reach," he jokes, and lightly rests on palm on your hip and slides the other into your pocket to find them. He tugs the keyring out and winks at you before unlocking the door. Up the stairs, into the flat. Shoes toed off, coats on the hook after George helps you out of yours.

"I'm not an invalid, you know," you tell him. He clicks his tongue.

"We don't want blood on this nice coat of yours, do we?"

You roll your eyes. George glances around your flat and smiles. "This is very you."

Dishes on the counter, the pillows a mess on the couch, your books and trinkets on every flat surface -- you suppose he's right.

"Thank you?" you say. He taps your chin with his knuckle.

"It feels like a home, I mean." Your cheeks feel warm and your heart sighs. God, the things he says.

"Oh," you breathe. "That's kind."

"And does this home have a first aid kit?" The reminder brings the dull sting of your scraped skin back to the forefront of your mind.

"Bathroom cabinet," you tell him. George nods.

"I'll get that. Why don't you change into something loose so I can get to your knees?"

In your room, you tug carefully tug on some sweatpants, mindful of your palms, and let yourself marvel at how today has gone. You expected to have George here someday, but certainly not like this. Will he want to see your bedroom? You shove some dirty laundry into the hamper and thank past you for making the bed this morning.

"I think you should sit on the counter," George calls. "Whenever you're ready."

You pad out to meet him in socked feet. It's quite the sight, him in your kitchen. He's bent over your sink, washing his hands. His sweater has been tossed over a chair and you can see the lines of his back under his t-shirt.

"Do you need help getting up?" he asks. You nod. Together, you get yourself on the counter, making you about eye level.

"Hello," you say. His hat is gone, too, so his fringe falls across his forehead in slightly curled strands. When you've cleaned yourself up, maybe you'll work up the courage to run your hand through them.

"Hello yourself. Right hand, please." You hold out your palm and George gets to work. He cleans it, getting all the bits from your skin, and then uses an alcohol wipe.

"Do you have a special interest in first aid, or something?" you ask to distract yourself from the sting. His thumb strokes your pulse point as he works.

"I guess you get beat up a bit in karting when you're young," he says. He wraps one palm in gauze and moves onto the other. "I suppose i just like knowing how to take care of people."

"God," you groan. "Is there anything wrong with you?"

He looks at you then, hair falling into his blue, blue eyes. "Oh," he smirks. "Plenty, darling." He finishes up on your other palm and holds it in his for a moment longer than you expect. Then he slowly brings your hand to his mouth and kisses the bandage.

You might gasp, You're not entirely sure, eyes glued to his lips like nothing else exists. Then he kisses the other palm. Your gaze flicks up and George is looking right at you.

"Knees," he says, voice a little hoarse. "Alright?"

"Alright," you breathe. You stick one leg out just to see what he'll do. You're learning that he rises to the occasion, and that's exactly what happens. He cups your ankle, places your foot on his thigh, and slides your sweatpants up above your joint.

"That's gnarly," he says, breaking the tension. You laugh and tap his leg with your other foot. "You ready?"

"I'm ready."

He makes quick work on it. One hand on your calf, the other gently cleaning and bandaging. The silence is comfortable, familiar, though you've not been in this situation before. It's not until George is almost done with your other knee that he speaks.

"You know," He says, lightly. "If you wanted me to touch you, all you had to do was ask. The tripping wasn't entirely necessary."

"George!" you gasp. He squeezes your calf.

"I'm just saying, darling."

He ties off the gauze and rolls down your pant leg. You widen your knees and he steps between them immediately, hands resting gently on your thighs. It's absolutely electric -- going from shy, appropriate touches to being in your flat together, his hands all over you. How are you going to go back?

Maybe you can't.

George's eyes rake over your face. You inhale his exhales, feeling them on your lips. His pupils dilate.

"What is this, George?" you whisper. His fingers press into your thighs a little harder.

"Well," he says, tongue darting out to wet his lips. "What would you like it to be?"

"I don't know," you say, honestly. He is not dissuaded, does not back away. He must know that this is hard for you -- his life is so different from yours. As it is, you avoid social media so you don't see pictures of you splashed across gossip accounts. It's impossible to totally stay away from it but you try, because you really like being with him.

"Shall I tell you what it is for me?" George says.

You nod.

He cups your face in his hands, thumbs stroking the delicate skin under your eyes.

"Every second I am not with you I am thinking about when I'll see you next," he says. "I store up things to tell you and take photos to show you and I have a bag full of things I've bought you but been too afraid to give you. Beautiful things, things that remind me of you."

"George--"

"I worry about fucking up your life," he continues, and you fall silent. "This is a lot. I am a lot. My life is not simple, and you've already seen that. But I want you in it. I want you in it however you want to be there, though I have my suggestions. I promise that if you let me, I'll treat you so well, because you deserve everything, and --"

Your heart is going to explode if he goes on any longer, so you close the gap between you and kiss him. Finally.

It's just the press of your lips against his for a few seconds, your eyes fluttering shut, before George catches up to what's happening and angles your faces a little bit to make it deeper. Your bandaged hands rest on his elbows and you swallow a sound from deep in his throat, something that lights a fire in your belly.

"Blimey," George says, leaning your foreheads together.

"What, no curse for me?"

His eyes sparkle and he wrinkles his nose at you. "Fuck," he says. "I've been thinking about that for weeks."

You press your lips to the corner of his mouth. "That's more like it."

BLOODY HELL

What the fuck was that? Is he serious? Keep focused, George. This is fucking ridiculous. Head down.

It's a bad day. Not as bad as it could be -- George does not end up in the wall. But he ends up way further down the pack than he should, barely scraping together a few points. It's the car and everyone knows it. The bouncing, the drag, the understeer. A showing far too poor for this late in the season.

And George is pissed. It's not often that you see him this way -- he's fairly levelheaded, even when things get tough. Something about him causes conflict to lull, things to fall into place, but even that can't fix the silver arrow.

You slip out of the garage during the last lap to sit in his driver's room and wait.

This isn't your first race. Far from it, by now. Things got official halfway through the season after that day in your flat, and you've been coming to as many as you can. It's a rush, really, to see him work. Scarier than anything, but when it's good? It's amazing. You love the energy of the garage and everyone seems to have taken to you, too.

So much so that they know to send George right to his room before the media pen so you can calm him down.

You sit on the bench and wait.

He comes in, closing the door firmly but never slamming it, and sighs. All the tension melts from his body and he looks defeated. Sweaty, annoyed, and defeated.

"Hello," you say, lightly.

He smiles wryly. "Shit day, huh?"

You love how George looks after a race. Hair a mess from his helmet, skin beaded with sweat. He unzips his race suit and lets it hang at his hips and you can see the outline of his muscles through his fireproofs. It's genuinely swoonworthy, even with his visibly bad mood.

"Are you alright?" you ask. He shrugs, rolls his shoulders, and winces.

"Bloody hell," he curses. "My back is killing me."

"What can I do?"

"Nothing," he says automatically. "You're perfect just as you are."

It's a reflex he has -- not to ask for things. You're still working it out, poking and prodding to find the cracks. Maybe, with time, he'll loosen this grip he has on his desire to make your life as comfortable and wonderful as possible without thinking of himself. There are moments when it's best to just let him fuss, but right now you think you can push back a little.

"George," you sigh. "Come on."

He hides his face behind a sweat towel for a breath, then tosses it aside. "Alright," he says. "Just sit with me for a bit."

You scoot over on the bench and he flops next to you, head back against the wall and eyes closed. His hand fumbles around for yours, pinching your thigh when he overshoots, which makes you laugh. He cracks a smile and opens one eye just enough to see your grin before settling back into his rest.

He breathes deeply, fingers entwined with yours. The line of his jaw is pronounced in the awful lighting of the room and the shadows under his eyes look worse than usual. A few more races and then he can rest. What will you do in the off season? Maybe a vacation. Hopefully a vacation. You imagine George in swim trunks on a beach somewhere, dozing in the sand. Rubbing sun tan lotion on his back and his shoulders and his nose, reading books for hours until he convinces you to run into the water. Lazy days on a balcony or in a bed with all the windows open, never being far from each other --

Someone knocks on the door.

"Christ," George mutters. "Let's ignore it."

"You need to go to the pen, darling," you whisper back. He squeezes your hand and presses your legs together.

"Just a few more minutes," he says. "Eventually they'll just come in."

"If you say so."

You press a kiss to his tacky cheek and lean your head on his shoulder, eyes fluttering shut.

George takes a deep breath. "I love you," he says.

The words stretch into the silence that comes after, the moments it takes for you to process it. They fill the small room, sneak their way into your bloodstream, your lungs, all the way to your heart.

Part of you is waiting for the follow-up. I know it's too early, I know it's a lot, You don't have you say it back. But George doesn't deal in excuses. He feels it, so he says it.

You lift your head to look at him and find him already staring at you. Not expectant, just looking to look.

"I love you, George," you say.

He grins bigger than you've ever seen, bigger than after your first kiss, than the days when he's on the podium.

Someone knocks on the door again.

"Oh, piss off," he mutters and leans in to kiss you.

[gotham-daydreams]

Planned Fics [For Batfam]

Will be listing both Romantic and Platonic fics that I not only have planned, but will be trying to prioritize! This is not the full list of what I have in mind, but kind of what I'd like to show first at the moment! Oneshots and smaller ideas are not included, and everything here is going to be multiple parts long.

'Bite-sized' are smaller fics like the Not [ ] Series, 'Long' fics are.... well, long, and I consider them to be more on par with full-length fics people post on other sites and such. With 'Medium' being somewhere in between 'bite-sized' and long fics. They don't really determine the actual set length of a fic, but moreso how long I think they'll be in the long run- so its more of a general idea then anything else!

'Mixed' fics are also a, well, mix of both platonic and romantic yanderes - or have yanderes that I feel cannot be defined as solely romantic or platonic. Though for simplicity I have placed them under romantic or platonic, and will specify which ones I consider a 'mixed fic'. Romantic and Platonic fics are also fics that predominantly has romantic or platonic yanderes - which basically means that one or two of they may be different.

I will also keep the descriptions of each fic short as... well, if I don't, I think this post will be waaayy longer than it has to be.

With that out of the way, let's get onto the lists!

Platonic:

Flick of the Wrist (temp title) [Villian! Artist! Reader] {Medium (?)}

Destroying the city your father seemed to love so much turns much more personal when you realize that your entire family is composed of costume wearing freaks. At least your trying to spice things up, geez. Though, for a bunch of detectives.. they can be fucking idiots for not realizing who you are. Guess being ignored really did give you a leg up in that department, so, really, you can't be too mad about that.

One Chance (temp title) [Kidnapped! Reader] {Long}

They thought you didn't know. That you'd be too young to remember what they did that night, that you didn't know how they treated your parents. Though, over the years, you didn't really help clear that idea... if anything, you fed into it. You play their little game, just so that they all could fall into the very palm of your hands. No matter what they try to do, no matter how much power they think they have... they will never know that you're still waiting. Waiting and making sure that when the time comes, you'll finally seize your opportunity- but you have to do it right the first time. You know that there won't be a second, especially at this point. One chance is all you're getting, and you'll be damned if you don't make sure it counts.

Ghost [Heavily Neglected! Reader] {Bite-sized}

You were the ghost in Wayne Manor. That's what everyone called you. That's what even the media saw you as, and at this point, it was all by design. They gave you a role to play, and you've done everything you could over the years to see it through. But, what happens when you finally want to leave, and go haunt some other place? What happens when your family finally decides to do a little 'Ghost Hunting' after all the rumors?

Prodigy [Prodigy! Reader] {Bite-sized (?)}

Born from an affair, and after your mother's unfortunate passing, you are given to Bruce Wayne - possibly the richest man alive and with a booming buisness. Yet, having been born and raised in this industry, you were practically made to take over the buisness. You've proven time and time again that you're more than capable of it, along with keeping your family's secret. Buisness and work is all you know. It's how you've lived, and you saw no reason to explore or look into things outside of it - along with the money it brought. So why is you family so insistent about 'spending more time' with you? Don't you give them enough free time already?

Bond [Reader who is obsessively looked after] {Bite-sized - Medium}

You keep them together. You keep them sane. You are their family. They need you more then you will ever know, and nothing will ever take you away from them.

Even a Worm Will Turn [Spider-Man! Venom! Reader] {Long} [Also known as 'Waiting Reader'] [Sort of mixed?]

You were so young when everything went down. You didn't know any better, not with how you grew up before your adoption - and not with what followed after. It wasn't your fault, or was it? You didn't think so, you were still in highschool for crying out loud. You were still just a kid... but, it's no wonder you grew up hating them. It's no wonder that, when given an out - when actually getting a taste of what they had robbed you of, did you finally see past the barriers that your parents had put up and that they reinforced unknowingly. Yet, when you finally seemed tired of waiting, they came crawling right back. Though, this time, unlike before- you weren't alone.

Husband! Reader [Technically I have two ideas for this concept so.... no title or length- how I go about it is going to be a little weird so just trust the process on this one, folks!] (Married to Bruce... obviously..)

It was peaceful for a while, or- well, as peaceful as it could get in Gotham. With you just caring for your insane family, and your doting yet equally insane husband. Though, just being apart of this family... maybe you should've expected things to go sideways.

(The more Batfam focused idea is focused on the reader basically being flung into a different dimension that is essentially the reversed Batfam AU (so Damian is the oldest, Dick is the youngest and such). The other idea is more JL focused so I won't go into it here.)

Darkest Night, Brightest Day (temp title) [Batman! Reader] {Medium - Long (?)}

It's a wonder how you've come this far. From being the newest addition into the family, to now the only one who's left to dawn the mantle. The world needs Batman, after all, and though many have argued that you've likeness is too much like Bruce's, you just see that as a sign that your efforts are paying off. After all, you have sacrificed your mind, body, and soul to keep up with the original... especially with all that's happened. Especially when everyone else is dead. Yet, it seems life really does love tormenting you, and one day, people that look like your deceased family come stumbling into your world, and would you look at that?

Their Bat is alive, and more human then you've ever been in a long, long time... maybe it's about time you ask how the hell he does this job without having to do half of whay you've done just to keep up. Maybe then, you'll feel like you aren't disrespecting those that came before you.

Romantic:

Letters [Fan! Reader] {Medium - Long (?)}

Ever since you were young, you've always been a fan of the unusual family that was Batman and every bird and bat he seemed to take under his wing. So to show your appreciation, you wrote letters to each and every one of them... that you ended up being too shy to send. As you grew up, your appreciation and admiration seemed to grow with you - but it also did extend to the Wayne family, who, in your opinion, really did seem to be boing just as much good as the Bats when it came to Gotham. You loved the Bats so much you even trained and became a vigilante yourself... but, now that you work beside them.. you can't help but keep your letters closer to yourself. With them becoming more personal as you lost hope in ever being able to send a single one.

Though... maybe now you have an opportunity? Especially when they've taken notice of you too, and don't seem to realize that their admiration is matched.

Clover [Reader taken from a diff universe] {Medium - Long(?)} [Sort of mixed. Platonic -> Romantic for some.]

They took you away from a life you didn't know you missed, and tried to play it off as if the life you lived before was all a dream... as if it never happened. You believed them at first, and yet, it seemed that just as you were becoming the very thing they were trying to shape you into, they began to change gears. No longer did some of them want you to pose as a family member that had long since passed - but rather, you were supposed to be something more.

Brotherhood and Co. (temp title?) [Dilf! Reader] {Medium(?)} [Mixed]

You trusted him. You trusted him with your life- he was like your god damn brother- and yet, he stabbed you in the back. Betrayed you like no other, and they both knew for years. Years of your life wasted away loving that woman, just like that.

So it's no surprise that you took the kids and left. Left and tried to do what you could to provide them with the life you knew they deserved, and provide the stability you knew they needed. Yet, it seems that your dear 'friend' isn't quite done with you yet, and nor is his godforsaken family. You really should've known not to trust them from the start, but hell, it was your big heart that got you in this mess, isn't it?

Intruder [Isekai! Reader] {Medium(?)} [Mixed.] [Also has a JL ver. though, again, just focusing on Batfam/Gotham for this post.]

Who knew that a crazed fan like you would end up in this situation? What are the odds that you of all people wind up being an unexpected artifact of some insane villian who could open portals across dimensions, space, and time? Granted, you aren't the only one- but you managed to slip under the radar. With you being able to use your knowledge of the universe you've plopped into to survive, and make sure to not catch any unwanted or unwarranted attention. It'd be horrifying and embarrassing as hell to meet Batman, only for him to be able to easily see that you're a complete fucking loser..

Yet, even when they do find you, you manage to catch their attention too well. And now... well, let's just say that while it was their job to bring everyone home, it wouldn't hurt to let you stay, right? After all, you seem to be adjusting so well... it'd be a shame to let you go now, wouldn't it?

Never-Ever After [Friend! Reader] {Medium - Long (?)}

Being a friend if the Wayne's wasn't all too bad, especially when you're basically friends with everyone. So when they ask for your help, and also for tickets to concerts of a particular idol duo you're also friends with- you don't think anything of it. It slips your mind when they ask for you to introduce them to your idol friends, but it becomes a little odd when they begin to ask for more... personal information on them, and sure, you answer their harmless questions - but not much else. Even if you do know the answers, that's weird and an invasion of their privacy! Not to mention your friends' trust in you!

Then the threats start coming... and suddenly the Wayne kids aren't so friendly with you anymore... and you can't help but notice how obsessed they seem with your idol friends... and yet, when you try to cut them off and avoid them, its like you can't. Like they won't allow you to anymore.

It's only when your life starts taking a horrible turn for the worst do you even consider the idea that maybe... just maybe.. did their obsession turn to you instead?

Gotham's Finest (temp title) [Insane! Villian! Reader] {Bite-sized - Medium (?)}

With the villians, rouges, and thugs of Gotham as your main infulence in life, it's no wonder that you became a villian yourself - and not only that, but aspired to be just as good as the people who really brought terror to the streets of Gotham. You were one of the best, 'trained' yourself to be as such. So is it any real surprise that you catch the attention of the infamous Bat and his family once you finally take your crime to the next level, and begin to become active at night?

Maybe not, but the real kicker is how much they seem to love how you drive them absolutely insane.

Birds of a Feather [Winged! (Metahuman?) Reader] {Bite-sized - Medium (?)} [Mixed.] 《In Progress》

You hate them. You'd do anything to get rid of them. And you're friends- they promised that they'd help you find a way to get rid of them forver. They did- they... they said they would, and you trust them, of course you do! You'd do anything, anything to rid yourself of these cursed wings. But, you just couldn't wait. It was taking too long. So... you took matters into your own hands just a little, and had a solution! A cure! So why... why are your friends and their family looking at you like that?

These lists may or may not be updated- especially as they get posted and people ask questions. Again, these are moreso the stories I'll be trying to focus on after the Not [ ] Series. Though, to be fair, some things may be a bit different after that series in general, but no need to think about that just yet! Author here is just trying to think of how to go about certain things and organize some stuff, especially since I'll dabble a bit into JL and Superfam stuff down the line- but that's not important right now!

If your curious about anything, don't be afraid to send in an ask! Or even if you want to hear more about an idea, and so on and so forth.

Also, as I'm sure you can tell... naming things isn't exactly my strong suit 😅 I'm more of a plot guy, y'know? Love me a good, dark, horror-esc story!

[uramakimochi]

MY MOST PRECIOUS TREASURE

Charles Leclerc x Reader

THE VIDEO OF CHARLES AND BABY CHIARA CHANGED MY LIFE Y'ALL MY BABY FEVER WENT TO THE STARS ISTG IT'S SO FUCKING CUTE I KNOW I'M TOO YOUNG TO HAVE KIDS BUT CHARLES IS SO FUCKING HUSBAND/FATHER MATERIAL I'M GOING INSANE

Warnings: nothing just fluff, dad!Charles because i'm a sucker for these things, fem!R, i chose the name of the baby because i can. Click here if you want to read more stories of the Leclerc family.

Translated english and french because they're not my first languages so feel free to correct me.

///

"Good morning my love~ Bonjour (Good morning)"

Your head silently popped out from behind the wall to see what was happening inside that small room, which was none other than your daughter's bedroom.

It was nothing you hadn't already seen since Aurora came into the world, yet you almost started to cry at the sight. And it was early morning too.

Charles was standing in front of the crib and had his back to you, or rather his bare back to be precise, as he held the fragile and soft little body of your beloved little girl in his arms. She wasn't crying (not yet at least), certainly due to the fact that she was in the company of her dad.

I believe there is no newborn who doesn't love being showered with cuddles and kisses by their parents first thing when they wake up and that was exactly what was happening at that moment in the Leclerc house.

"Ma petite fille. Ma princesse (My little girl. My princess)"

Your heart began to beat a little faster when you heard Charles continue to whisper sweet words on Aurora's skin, which he was currently filling with little kisses. She, however, continued to remain silent, squeezing her pacifier between her lips and closing her eyes relaxed, almost as if she wanted to go back to sleep, but this time with Charles' arms as her little blanket.

"Maybe you don't realize it now, but you are the most precious thing that has ever happened to us. My sweet Aurora, papa loves you so much, do you know that? And maman loves you so much too. Grandma loves you. And so does your Grandpa, as he watches you from up there. And all your uncles love you. And i wish you would never grow up, you know? I would like to keep you here with me and your mother forever. Just the three of us and no one else"

At first you didn't even notice that your eyes had become teary at the sight of Charles holding Aurora against his chest, with one hand covering her back and the other holding her under her legs, while he swayed his body slightly side to side.

Only when you sniffled you quickly passed a hand over your eyes, to make the tears that were forming go away, while Charles turned towards your direction and a wide smile crossed his face.

"Aurora who is that, hm? C'est maman! (it's mommy)" He murmured next to her small face, pointing at your figure with a finger. "Mommy is here too"

You smiled tenderly as Aurora's eyes widened a little and you heard her making little noises from behind her pacifier, happy that now you were there with them too.

You approached the two and Charles let you pick her up, so that you could hold her like he had done, now wanting cuddles to give and receive too.

"Good morning princess. Did you sleep well?" You asked, rubbing your nose against hers, making her smile.

Charles smiled and wrapped his arm around your waist, leaning in to give you a couple of kisses on your hair.

“Bonjour ma chérie (good morning darling)” he said to you and you rested your head against his body.

"Mhh, bonjour"

You turned to look at him and Charles frowned slightly when he saw your shining eyes.

"Love, did you cry?" he asked worriedly and you couldn't help but nod.

“Yes. But don't worry, i'm just a little emotional today, that's all”

Charles looked at you silently, as if he knew there was more you wanted to say so you continued.

“It’s just…” you took a small breath. “I'm happy to have come this far, with you. I'm so happy that you've always been by my side and i'm so proud that my daughter has you as her father, Charles. I don't know what i would do if you or her weren't with me"

A couple more tears escaped your eyes and Charles promptly wiped them away with his finger, then left his hand on your cheek.

"Love, it takes two people to make a child, right? So i'm also proud of the fact that my daughter has you as her mother. And i'm happy that you are the person i want to spend the rest of my life with"

You rubbed your face against his palm as you exchanged a look full of love and devotion for each other, under the big eyes of your daughter and then you exchanged a small kiss on the lips.

"Why are we in the mood for cuddles today? More than usual, at least" you asked him with a small laugh, once you pulled away.

Charles shrugged, smiling back.

"I don't know, maybe it's the awareness of the fact that one day Aurora will grow up and won't be with us anymore. She doesn't even know how to speak and i already miss her" he replied, then he leaned towards the little girl in your arms and caressed her with cheek with his finger. "Does this ever happen to you?"

“Sometimes” you nodded, lowering your head to look back at her. "But to avoid thinking about it, i just focus on the present, now that she's still here"

Charles suddenly grabbed your hand, gently dragging you out of Aurora's room and towards your bedroom.

"Charles?"

Charles threw himself onto the bed, opening his arms wide and inviting you and Aurora to join him.

"Does anyone want my cuddles?" he told you with a smile, opening and closing his hands in your direction.

Aurora began to move her arms and legs and you placed her on top of the covers so she could crawl towards Charles' body.

"Ohh yes, my darling, come here" he murmured, pulling her towards him and sitting her on his chest. "Vien à papa (come to daddy)"

Aurora began to touch his face with her hands and Charles couldn't help but laugh, making both you and Aurora laugh in turn as she dug her fingers in his dimples.

You sat next to his body, leaning on your back on the headboard.

"Don't you want to have breakfast?" You asked, reaching out to stroke the hair on his forehead.

Charles turned to look at you and caressed your thigh with one hand, while he supported Aurora's little body with the other.

"How about eating out instead? Let's go out together, take a little trip. Maybe we can take a boat ride"

"That's fine with me. I think Aurora will be happy" you nodded. "Do you want to invite your family too?"

Charles shook his head.

"No" he smiled. "Today i want to be with my girls. Juste nous trois (just the three of us)"

You gave him a kiss on the forehead and another on the lips and then you got out of bed and headed towards the wardrobe, looking for clothes and essentials for the day.

"Honey?" Charles called from behind you, busy playing with Aurora's hands.

"Yes?"

"Would you want another child?" he asked you nonchalantly, while you suddenly turned to look at him.

"What??"

///

YOURINSTAGRAM

tagged charles_leclerc

yourinstagram Someone wanted to spoil us today (i cried after taking the last pic btw🥹)

View comments

charles_leclerc I love you both so much but you already know that❤️

yourinstagram And we love you but you already know that too🤍

user DAD CHARLES CONTENT IM MELTING🫠😭

user When i tell you my ovaries are exploding

user THE PARENTS ARE PARENTING😭😭

user If he's not Charles Leclerc i don't want him idgaf

leclerc_pascale 🩷

francisca.cgomes My baby Aurora is so cute, i miss her💕

yourinstagram She misses you too, we'll come visit you soon🥰

user AURORA MOVE ITS MY TURN

user NAH SHES SO PRECIOUS MOVE CHARLES IT'S MY TURN

lilymhe Great i have baby fever now, thanks

alex_albon No you don't

yourinstagram Aurora waits for a cousin🥰

user Alex💀

user my turn when???😭😭

///

CHARLES_LECLERC

tagged yourinstagram

charles_leclerc Simple words cannot describe everything i feel for the two most important people in my life. So i'll just leave these here. My beloved girls💞

View comments

yourinstagram ...You won't believe this...

charles_leclerc Please tell me you're not crying again amour...

yourinstagram HOW CAN I NOT😭🥹

user Lmao she's so me

user CHARLES ITS EIGHT IN THE MORNING HERE I WAS NOT FUCKIGN READY

user Her little hat😭

user I want what they have

user Look at her smile

user NO LOOK AT HIS SMILE HES SO IN LOVE I CAN'T

arthur_leclerc I thought me and Lorenzo were the two most important people of you life??

charles_leclerc Mom comes before you and you know it

arthur_leclerc Whatever i'm still her favourite uncle

pierregasly You wish, i'm her godfather

arthur_leclerc I'm her uncle by blood

carlossainz55 We all know i'm the best and favourite uncle here

landonorris I'm no one but i'm still her favourite shut up

yourinstagram None of you losers will ever beat her beloved dad anyway (her favourite is obviously Sebastian) Liked by charles_leclerc

sebastianvettel I knew it

user Don't mind me i'm just crying in single🫠

user Look at how he's holding her😭

user The drivers fighting to be Aurora's favourite uncle is making my day

user She doesn't know it yet but she's so lucky to have all of them😭

yourinstagram She is🥰

user This family is my Roman Empire istg

///

y'all please write more dad!charles stories i'm begging you