#a love letter to fanfiction

[writeblrfantasy]

around six years ago, i started writing seriously for the first time. it was fanfiction. (glee fanfiction if you're curious.) i wouldn't write something original for the first time for another year.

i loved writing fanfiction--i put my whole unashamed heart into it, i didn't even think about whether it was good or not, because i was having a blast. i wrote for many different fandoms, i wrote one (short) fanfic a day during december based on one word prompts, and i would send them to my friend each night--a routine which got me through a very hard week of my life. i wrote buckets and buckets of fanfiction.

and then, i'm not sure when and why that changed--i read and still do read something on ao3 almost every night for dozens and dozens of fandoms, after all. but the more i wrote original books, i stopped writing fanfiction, and over the years, writing fanfiction seemed like an impossible task.

i tried a few times, i wrote a customized fic for my bestie's birthday, but i could never get far usually. it felt alien and intrusive to try and write someone else's characters. it would always end in shame and this feeling of wrong, wrong, wrong.

i don't have any of those early fanfictions from six years ago because i deleted them, convinced they were hot garbage (and they were, but i still would've liked to have them!)

i continued to write originally, still reading fanfiction almost every night and participating in fandom in other ways. and then in late 2021, i wrote and finished a good fic as a herculean labor of love. in spring of 22, it took me an incredible effort, but i took one of my old surviving fanfics and edited it to new standards, and then encouraged by my victory, i wrote 2 more fics and started a bunch of others.

i made an ao3 account and posted these all, and was encouraged like never before by the comments i received, the love i had never received because i'd never posted my fanfics before. slowly, the shame wore off. i could write fanfiction again. it became something i could do while sitting on my phone in a waiting room having an anxiety attack, something to do before i went to bed, something i could do when a fic i wanted didn't exist--i could finally just write it!

and now, we come to this year. in 23 so far, i've written and posted 11 fanfics adding up to 100,805 words in total, in two fandoms, with several fanfic wips in the works. two weeks ago i wrote, without meaning to, 7k of a fic in one day to finish it, a week after finishing the source material. i'm still hesitant to share snippets of fics with friends not in those fandoms, but i did in this case and was told by a friend that it was some of my best writing ever--original and fanfic combined. period.

in january when i watched my favorite movie too many times to get anything more out of it, i turned to fanfiction, where i had a fic i mentioned was inspired by my favorite fic in the tiny ass fandom, which the creator then saw and was flattered by, and continued to read all my fics in that fandom!

this would turn into a 7 part series which i would post once a week, whipping up 5k minimum fics in a matter of days. i was shameless. i was carefree. i was living for the familiar usernames in my comments, and the serotonin of pushing that "new post" button. i was having fun.

in moments where i would wonder if the fic i was writing was cringe, if anyone would like it if i posted it, i reminded myself that i read fic every night. fic is often the first place i turn after finishing a source material, and what i look forward to while consuming that material. if everyone who thought like me about their fics didn't post, i would be without fanfics to get me through my fandom experience, and i would hate that. so i kept writing and posting.

now: my relationship with writing fanfiction has never been healthier. i am better than where i was at six years ago, because my overall writing skills have improved about 1000%, and because i'm posting now. writing fanfiction now often provides me a break from the stress and complexity of writing original novels, and it's a lovely wind down bedtime activity.

so, i suppose if there's a takeaway from this post, it's that fan content creators, no matter what you create, and no matter how small the fandom you're creating for, even if you're the first work in your fandom, keep creating. what you're doing is real and worthy and just as important as original content, and keeps the heart of fandom alive. i am so happy i repaired my relationship with writing fanfic, and it's made me happier this year than i thought possible, due in large part to the incredible commenting communities in fandom. i wish the same for all of you <3

[orangepanic]

Is it weird to write fanfiction of fanfiction? Maybe. But I was thinking about @kurocache's amazing No Strings Attached modern AU where, among A LOT of other things, Asami winds up living with Iroh after her breakup with Korra and Korra's subsequent reunion with Mako. As I eagerly await the ending of that fic it got me thinking about Asami's perspective and how hard it might be for her to let herself be loved again, even when it's staring her in the face. The following is in no way meant to be canon in Kuro's AU, and I hope they'll consider this little thought experiment as the compliment it was intended.

***

There weren’t any benches by the water. Standing in the cold wind Asami wasn’t sure now if there ever had been, or if she’d only imagined them. She’d done a lot of that over the years. Imagined people instead of seeing who they were—or who they weren’t. Imagined her future. Imagined love that would last a lifetime. But in the end neither people nor benches were there to support her. Asami found a seat on the edge of the concrete pier and hugged her knees up under her chin, shivering. Her t-shirt and leggings were hardly winter wear. In her hurry to leave she’d grabbed whatever was closest.

Asami tried to focus on the boats in the bay as they passed. Their colors and textures, and the little flags that showed where they were from. In spite of the chill it would probably be a nice day for sailing. But sailing inevitably brought her mind back to him, and to the conversation that had never quite stopped playing in an endless loop in the back of her mind. That, and the stricken look on his face. 

It wasn’t that she didn’t like Iroh. She did and always had, even before he’d taken her in after the breakup without so much as a question. Despite his tough exterior Iroh was one of the kindest people Asami had ever met. His quiet ways hid a keen mind and a depth of character that went far beyond his public pledges of honor and service. When people talked, Iroh listened to them, and he thought about what they said. He was well-read, worldly. A fantastic Pai Sho player. He made great omelets. And there was certainly an attraction there, too; not just because Iroh was a handsome man but something in the way he moved his body, and how he looked at her. Asami had kissed him first. They’d started sleeping together. He’d been good. Better than good, spirits, it had felt like Iroh wanted nothing but to please her. All she’d wanted to do was forget.

Asami dug her fists into her eyes and blew out a breath. She wasn’t going to cry. Between her father and Korra and fucking slimeball Varrick she was out of tears for this year. 

Footsteps sounded against the pier. When they stopped behind her Asami didn’t react. Go away, she thought. Alone was where she belonged. Alone and unwanted and unhurt.

The visitor softly cleared their throat. “You forgot your coat.” 

“It’s fine.”

“It’s cold out.” 

Asami laughed into her closed hands in a way that sounded too much like a sob. Boots shuffled behind her and then heavy fabric draped around her shoulders, cutting off the wind. A moment later something metal clanged gently on the concrete. When Asami cast a glance sideways a large red thermos with the golden United Forces logo sat by her side. 

“Just tea,” said Iroh. “Black with lemon.” The way she liked it, not him. “You can keep the thermos. I have two.”

“What are you doing here?” she choked out. 

“You left without your coat.”

“I can handle myself.” 

“I know,” said Iroh. “And I’m not here to ask anything of you, or to ask… anything again. But you can’t be out in this weather without a coat. Not because of me.”

Of all the ridiculous things. She’d kicked his heart to the floor and here he was out of chivalry. Asami dropped her hands to pull her coat tighter around her. She already felt warmer and hated it. Why did he have to be like this?

“Did you wanna sit?” she asked. 

Iroh hesitated, then folded himself down next to her without comment. His long legs dangled over the edge. Unsure what to say Asami unclasped her arms and took up the thermos. Warmth bloomed in her chest at the first sip, the fragrant steam caressing her face like a lover. She’d always be a coffee girl but Iroh’s tea was as good as his omelets.

“Thank you.”

“Of course.” When Asami handed Iroh the thermos he took it, wrinkling his nose at the taste. 

“Are you alright?” she asked. 

He didn’t answer. He seemed to be studying the open mouth of the thermos. 

“Iroh?”

Iroh took another swig of tea before handing it over again. He braced his powerful arms against the pier, leaning back, not looking at her. “No. But I will be.” Frost curled from his lips as he exhaled. “These things happen. You don’t owe me a reason, Asami.” The implication being that she hadn’t given him one. Which she hadn’t. When Iroh had run his thumb across her lips and asked with shy smile and soft eyes if she’d ever consider more than just sex she’d practically rocketed out of his bed and through the front door with a string of apologies trailing behind her like tin cans on a stray dog. Not because she didn’t want him but because she couldn’t go through it again. Asami had already been left or betrayed by everyone she’d ever loved and she wasn’t going to add any more names to that list. She couldn’t love Iroh, not now, not when she was only barely back on her feet. She couldn’t survive loving him, too. Even if deep in her heart she knew it was already too late. But better to lose him now than to be shattered in a year or two when one more time she found out the hard way that she wasn’t enough. 

“I’m sorry,” she said into the thermos. 

“Don’t be.” 

“But I want to.”

“You want to be sorry?” Iroh ventured a glance in her direction. “Can I ask you something?” he said. “A different something.”

Asami tensed. “Okay.”

“Can you promise it’s me?”

“Huh?” She turned to him. “What’s you?”

Iroh stared out at the bay again, white-lipped and grim. “Promise it’s me,” he repeated, “and that when the time comes you’ll let somebody love you. Somebody else.”

Asami dropped her eyes as a knife twisted in her gut. There was a reason Iroh was so good at Pai Sho. He’d cornered her in two moves, leaving her with the terrible choice of lying to his face or saying out loud what she desperately didn’t want to say because she knew him, and he’d come all this way to bring her her fucking coat not because he wanted a second chance but because she was cold and he couldn’t stand the thought of it. Iroh would never accept that she was unlovable and better off shielded from that hurt. He was too kind, and too full of love himself. It was easy to miss but he was. Nothing inside him but marshmallow fluff. Asami snorted at the image of poking his stomach like a warm cream bun. 

Iroh raised an eyebrow. “Funny?”

“You’re such a sap.”

The corner of his mouth pulled up into a smile that didn’t quite touch his eyes. “Don’t tell anyone. I have an image to maintain.”

“I won’t.”

“You didn’t answer my question though.”

“Iroh…”

“It’s alright. You don’t have to say it.” He flashed up a hand, then picked up the cap leaned over to screw it back on the tea thermos. “It’ll get cold if you leave it open,” he added, his voice rough. Asami knew what he’d assumed in her silence. She stared at his big hands wrapped around the thermos and felt her lip begin to tremble. Her vision blurred. 

“Wait,” she sniffed.

Iroh’s head snapped up. “Asami?”

“It’s not you,” she blurted, keeping her eyes on his square chin as a single tear spilled down her cheek. “Iroh, it’s not you, never. Please don’t think that, you’re wonderful, it’s me and I couldn’t take it if you left me too, I’d—” and that’s as far as she got before he folded her into his arms and she broke down completely. Asami sobbed against his chest, his familiar scent wrapping around her like a blanket as he hugged her tight. 

“Shh, you’re okay,” he murmured into her hair. 

Asami cried and cried until there was nothing left in her but hiccups. Iroh adjusted her coat around her and stroked her hair. He said very little, just occasional soothing sounds, low and indistinct, as if she were a child with a fever. Only when she’d quieted did he pull back to face her. His features were drawn, his golden eyes full of exasperated concern.

“May I take you home?” he asked.

Asami wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and nodded. “I’m sorry about your shirt.”

“I’ll wash it.”

“Iroh—”

“Later,” he said with a sharp shake of his head. He reached up and wiped the wetness from her cheek with his thumb, then leaned down and kissed her forehead just below her hairline. “Come on. There’s dumplings for dinner if you’re patient. We can talk after if you want. Grab the thermos, will you?”

Iroh got to his feet, then held out a hand to pull her up. When they started to walk Asami didn’t let it go.

[ervotica]

Imagine this: youre in college, and after all those boring classes you come to your job at the donaldsons that includes riding him in the couch for as long as your legs allow you.

Tashi just coming home to thats sight and just making herself a afternoon drink unbotherd.

Dbsnhxhsb

omg shut up???🥲

warnings; all smut not much plot, older!art, so much potential for this series aghhh

a/n; art is an ear freak i literally feel it in my balls he loves it when u suck on them ears (he did it to tashi so he likes doing it to others too <3)

the front door clicks and you wander through, in this teensy little white tennis dress that art told - no, commanded - you to wear when you came to work. the dress that shows the strain of your hard nipples through the fabric, swollen into points like diamonds, the one that slips upward and reveals the perky swells of your ass, the barely covered seam of your pussy when you trounce up to him, chirruping nonsense and smiling at him like he’s the only man in the world.

he murmurs something indiscernible - a pleased noise that reverberates at the back of his throat - and you lean over the back of the couch, sliding your manicured fingers across the expanse of his chest, chin tucked to his neck.

“hi.”

“hi, baby,” he murmurs in that low, rasping way that turns your insides molten.

fast forward no more than ten minutes, and you’re both bare, art’s thick fingers curled round your waist as he uses you as a fleshlight, lifting you up and down like a ragdoll and watching, entranced, as your cunt flares and parts for his thick cock; you sob and babble, slumped forward against his chest, nails digging into porcelain skin, teeth scraping along art’s cheekbone.

“i know, baby. i know,” he grunts, and you’ve never heard a sound like it. your cunt clenches, a soft silk wrap around his cock, and he’s turning his head to suck at the corner of your mouth, all spit and drool and tongue, so much of it that it drips from your chin, globs of it pooling between your tits.

the front door clicks and you’re both too lost in each other to care as tashi comes through the living room and enters the kitchen; art hooks one of his huge hands under the crease of your knee, lifting your leg until it’s draped over his forearm, bracing his feet against the leather of the couch as he jackrabbits up into you. you make a sound somewhere between a moan and a scream, and then tashi’s figure is crossing by you once more, drink in hand, lithe fingers nudging at your jaw to examine your expression. she bends at the waist, pinches your pert little nipple and rolls the bud between her fingertips, and smirks - fucking smirks - as your pussy clamps down on him like a vice; art lets out a stuttered breath, pulls you down onto him, and cums on the spot.

neither of you quit writhing against each other; he has at least another load in him, cock already chubbing back up encased in your spasming walls, no doubt an angry red and drooling precum. tashi settles herself on the armchair opposite you, already disinterestedly flicking through tv channels.

“want my mouth on you,” you whisper, face pressed just below his jaw, breathing hot air onto his neck.

“in a minute, baby,” he supplicates, grunting as he sheathes himself further into your tight warmth, balls heavy and swollen and slapping against your ass with every filthy rock of his hips.

tashi crosses one leg over the other, the picture of boredom, and says, “bite his ear. he loves that shit.”

you do just that, teeth rolling over his lobe as you suck the sensitive skin into your mouth.

he almost cums again, hands sliding up and over your back to still your movements so he doesn’t blow his load right there.

oh, tashi’s going to have fun with you. mould you into a perfect little toy for her husband, take some of his intense, fervent pining off of her, let you be the center of his world so she can focus on improving his game.

she might even keep you if you’re lucky.

[mattslolita]

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨ ʚɞ ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨ ʚɞ ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨ ʚɞ ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨ ʚɞ ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨ ʚɞ ୧⋆

"but professor, i've never gotten anything lower than an A+ before!"

professor sturniolo sighs softly, rubbing the stubble along his jaw as he eyes you, licking his lips. you bite your lip in nervousness, feeling the familiar feeling of heat pooling in between your thighs whenever you were around your teacher. his intense, azure eyes that would wander hungrily over your gaze didn't ever escape you ━ you couldn't deny the obvious attraction you had towards him, either. you knew it was wrong, but you couldn't help it, especially when you were his favorite student.

but after seeing the B+ on your most recent paper, your mind was spiraling and you had started to think otherwise. "i'm so confused on what i did wrong, mr. sturniolo."

"listen, y/n, your work was done well, but it was lacking," professor sturniolo explains to you, shaking his head slightly as his eyes bore into yours, "this wasn't your best work, you and i both know that. you could've done better."

a huff escapes the pout of your lips, your arms crossing against your chest. professor sturniolo's eyes wander down to where your perky, perfect breast are almost peaking out from above the white button up top you've paired with your denim skirt, just barely grazing the curves of your ass. a low rumble leaves his lips, and he clears his throat to cover it up, eyes raking over you shamelessly.

and you don't miss the way he stares.

he raises an eyebrow as you walk closer to his desk, stopping just in front of his desk where he sits in his chair. he leans back with a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips, manspreading as he watches the way you stare down at him pleadingly whilst pressing your plush thighs together.

"is there anything i could do..." you whine lowly, your eyes traveling down to the bulge in his work slacks, "to raise my grade?"

he chuckles lowly, his eyes darkening with a sinister gleam in his eyes. professor sturniolo tsks, shaking his head slightly before beckoning you over to him.

"get on your knees angel, hm?" he instructs you, and you nod eagerly.

you tucked your skirt under you, knees pressing against the carpeted floor of the classroom as you slowly crawl in front of him, wide eyes staring up at him as you await his next command. he feels his cock twitch in his pants upon seeing you on your knees for him, face level with his still clothed erection.

"such a sweet girl..." he hums lowly, reaching his hand out to stroke your cheek, thumb swiping over you bottom lip, "willin' to break the rules jus' to raise your grade? such a naughty little thing, ain't ya?"

you whine lowly, feeling the heat pool your underwear upon hearing the way he described your current predicament ━ it was so wrong, but you couldn't help the way your body reacted to the simplicity of his hand grazing along your cheek.

"please sir, need you," you plead, wide eyes filled with lust and pleading as you stare up at him.

"go on angel, have me."

professor sturniolo lifted his hips up as he unbuttoned his slacks, sliding them down towards you ━ you eagerly slid them past his knees, gulping slightly when you saw his erection prodding against his underwear, begging to be released. he lifts his hips up once more to slide his underwear down and once they unclothe his cock, your eyes widen ━ he's big. his angry, mushroom tip is reddened with precum leaking from it. his eyes narrow at you predatorily, watching the way you take him in.

"s-so big, sir," you say, mouth watering as you look back up at him, "please, can i taste you?"

"course you can, baby," he urges, caressing your cheek, "know you can take all of me, c'mon."

you scoot closer to him until you're eye level with his dick, slowly moving forward as you lick a stripe up the underside of it ━ a low groan leaves your professor's lip, clearly having been waiting for some type of contact. you reach a hand up to slowly stroke him, watching as his eyelids become lidded as he hungrily gazes down at you.

"y'gonna tease your professor, hm?" he warns you, "gonna have to make me feel good if you wan' that A+."

without warning, you take the head of his throbbing cock until it hits the back of your throat, earning a low growl from your professor, his head lolled back in ecstasy. you raise your head up, before going back to take him again. "fuckk, there ya go, angel..."

you stroked the rest of what couldn't fit in your mouth, watching his expressions morph as you continued sucking him off. professor sturniolo's hand goes down to create a makeshift ponytail, gripping your hair harshly as he forces your head all the way down, your nose brushing against his pelvic bone as he fucks your face with vigor.

"takin' me so fuckin' good, doll," professor sturniolo says darkly, his hips snapping up as he drives his cock down your throat, "breakin' the rules jus'- fuckk- cause ya didn't like ya grade? gonna make you take me, you dirty slut..."

his filthy words have you moaning around his cock, and your hand goes down and slips inside of your underwear, rubbing circles around your clit. professor sturniolo's cock begins twitching inside of your mouth, signaling he was close.

"m'close, angel," he growls, his thrusts into your mouth growing sloppy, the wet, lewd noises sounding throughout the classroom. spit trickles down the sides of your mouth, and you could feel your throat becoming hoarse but you didn't care. you can feel yourself closer and closer to your own orgasm, your slick coating your fingers as you rub your clit faster.

"gonna fill that pretty mouth up with my cum," professor sturniolo groans possessively, "is that what you wan'? want your teacher to fill your dirty mouth up with his seed?"

the moan you suddenly let out around his cock gives him his answer as he looks down at you, tears filling your vision from you gagging around him ━ the tears spur him on further, hips bucking into your face roughly before his legs sputter, cock twitching as hot, white spurts of cum shoot down your throat, followed by multiple praises of your name slipping from professor sturniolo's lips.

he coaxes himself through his orgasm, guiding your mouth away from his dick, a loud pop sound following. a low whine leaves your lips as you come undone on your fingers, your arousal dripping down your thighs as you pant heavily.

professor sturniolo smirks down at you dangerously, drinking in the sight of your puffy lips, mascara streaking your eyelids as your eyes are glossed over, the scent of sex clouding around you both. his hand reaches out to yours, pulling it up towards you. he hums as he tastes your arousal on your fingers, lustful gaze on you as he licks his lips. "y'taste so fuckin' heavenly."

a small giggle leaves your lips as you stare up at him. "does that mean i get an A+ now?"

[nottsangel]

Rafe coming home after a long day and all he wants to do is suck your titties while you get your self off on his lap

just thinking about it makes me feel butterflies. i need this so bad my god. also thank you for sending this in <3

“i missed you so fucking much” rafe whispers as he places sloppy kisses on your neck while you’re sitting on his lap, desperately rocking your hips back and forth on his thigh, trying to release the tension in your body. his hands are gripping your sides tightly as he guides your movements, his thumb drawing slow circles on your skin under your shirt.

“you’re always on my mind. every minute of the day. don’t ever wanna leave you again” he hastily takes off your shirt, unable to wait any longer before he also skilfully removes your bra with one hand. he moves his head back and stares at you in admiration, taking in your beauty. “god, you’re so fucking beautiful. wanna suck your pretty tits so bad baby, show you how much i missed you”

he moves his head to your tits before taking one in his mouth, his tongue sliding over your nipple, causing you to moan as you throw your head back. you quicken your movements as he flexes his thigh, putting more pressure on your clit as you grip his shoulders to support yourself. his mouth continues to the other one, sucking it more aggressively while playfully biting your sensitive nipple. it feels like you’re in heaven at this moment as rafe continues sucking your tits while he whispers sweet words to you. “my pretty girl. my baby. my everything”

[vanteguccir]

── ୨୧ !　𝗔𝗟𝗪𝗔𝗬𝗦 𝗬𝗢𝗨𝗥𝗦

　　　　　　　　𝒄𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐 x reader

SUMMARY: Where Y/N and Chris are secretly in love, but Chris is the one that acts shy around her; OR 4 times Chris loved Y/N from afar and 1 time he didn't.

WARNING: None.

REQUESTED?: Yes, by anon.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

　　　༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

Y/N and Nick had been inseparable since they were children, having grown up together in Boston, their bond of friendship was the strongest among all others. Nick was the type of boy who exuded energy and extroversion, while Y/N was more thoughtful and quiet, and the two of them fit together perfectly.

So, when the triplets decided to move to Los Angeles to better advance their career on YouTube, the girl went with them. Her high school years were over, and, as luck would have it, she had received her acceptance letter to the LA college she wanted to attend.

Obviously, her closeness with Nick throughout her life brought her close to Matt and Chris equally, as the three of them came as a complete package to any relationship, regardless of which trype it was.

The only difference was that with Chris, things were different. A strange and unfamiliar feeling grew more and more inside Y/N's heart whenever he was around, making her blush and stumble over her own words. It didn't take her long to realize that she was madly in love with the youngest triplet, but the fear of rejection prevented her from confessing her feelings.

What Y/N didn't know was that Chris also had deep feelings for her. However, he was also paralyzed by the fear of ruining his friendship with Y/N, or worse, destabilizing the girl's friendship with his brother if his feelings weren't reciprocated. So the two were content to flirt shyly and exchanging furtive glances and meaningful smiles that spoke volumes about their feelings.

But there was something more, something that everyone but Y/N seemed to notice. When she was around, Chris transformed completely. His posture softened, his smile became more genuine, and his eyes shone with a special tenderness reserved just for her. He became more embarrassed and cautious, as if he was afraid of messing up in front of the person he secretly loved.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

1. Shyness

The sun was beginning to peek shyly through the window curtains when Y/N woke up. She snuggled under the sheets for a moment, enjoying the feeling of comfort. With a soft yawn, the girl got up from the bed and stretched momentarily before putting on the Fresh Love hoodie that was on her gaming chair, throwing her hair up in a quick ponytail.

Y/N walked down the stairs of the floor she shared with Nick towards the kitchen, following the tempting aroma of fresh coffee and warm toast.

Inside the kitchen, Matt was talking about a movie he watched the night before, Saltburn, while Chris laughed loudly at the faces of disgust and strangeness Nick displayed at certain scenes.

"Wait, you reminded me of a TikTok I saw yesterday!" Exclaimed Chris, his eyes shining with excitement. "It was from a guy who apparently wrote a song about a girl who looks innocent but ha-"

Before he could continue, Y/N entered the room with a smile on her face.

"Good morning, boys!"

Chris's face instantly turned a bright shade of red, and he swallowed hard, abruptly stopping talking. He looked down at his plate with a sudden intensity, as if he were trying to concentrate on each bite of his food.

"Good morning, Y/N." Nick smiled, breaking the brief moment of awkward silence. Matt just nodded, chewing on the piece of toast he had in his mouth.

Y/N approached the counter behind the table, noticing the sudden discomfort in the air but choosing not to comment on it.

"What was the TikTok about, Chris?" She asked softly with her back turned to them, standing on tiptoes and opening one of the cabinets above the stove, retrieving her favorite mug.

"I... Um." He fake coughed, clearing his throat. "I think I... forgot." The last word came out in a subtle whisper.

Y/N smiled, feeling the skin of her face burn at the thought of how shy the boy became in her presence, shaking her head quickly to shake off the thoughts when Nick started talking again, bringing up another topic.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

2. Admiring from afar

The Space Camp Wellness studio was filled with vibrant energy as Nick, Chris, Matt, and Y/N prepared for yet another promotional photo shoot. Nick, as the founder of the lip balm brand, was busy adjusting the final details, while Y/N was preparing to be one of the models in that series of pictures that would be used to promote the new line.

Sitting on the other side of the room, Chris, Matt, and Nick exchanged hushed murmurs among themselves, discussing the details of what the next steps for Nick's brand would be. However, to Chris, the sounds seemed distant, completely muffled to his ears.

His eyes remained fixed on the girl, watching every movement she made as she changed her positions. He couldn't shake the feeling that the whole world seemed brighter when she was around, his heart beating wildly against his chest.

"Chris, you're drooling again." Matt teased, giving the boy a playful poke in the shoulder.

Chris blinked, brought back to reality by his words. He blushed slightly, embarrassed at being caught.

"Shut the fuck up, I'm not drooling." He barked back, trying to hide his flushed state.

"Oh, come on, Chris. Everyone knows you're head over heels in love with Y/N." Nick laughed loudly, exchanging knowing glances with Matt.

Chris squirmed uncomfortably in his seat, trying to find a suitable response to his brothers' teasing. He knew he couldn't deny his feelings for Y/N, but he also didn't want to make the situation more awkward than it already was.

"You two are ridiculous." He grumbled, looking at Y/N again.

His eyes widened when he saw her already watching them, her gaze carrying a curiosity as to why they were laughing so loud - not that it was something strange coming from the brothers.

The brunette quickly turned his neck to the side, focusing his eyes on a random place while scratching his stubble, gulping loudly.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

3. Acts of service

The frigid air of Boston circulated Y/N as she walked alongside the triplets, enveloped by the welcoming atmosphere of their hometown. The night was particularly cold, with a biting breeze that made everyone shrink into themselves for warmth.

"Oh my God, it's so cold!" Y/N commented, rubbing her arms in an attempt to warm them a little.

Chris, who was next to her on the outside of the sidewalk, immediately noticed her cheeks flushed by the wind. He frowned, feeling a tightening of concern in his chest when he saw her body shaking slightly, being covered only by a long-sleeved blouse and thin leggings.

"Here." The boy said, taking off his hockey jersey and offering it to her. "You can use this to protect yourself from the cold."

Y/N widened her eyes in surprise, stopping her steps abruptly.

"But what about you, Chris? You're going to be cold-" Chris shook his head, cutting her off.

"Don't worry about me. I can handle the cold better than you can. Besides, you need to stay warm or you will cath the flu."

Finally convinced, but still reluctant, Y/N accepted the jersey, feeling the comforting warmth that emanated from the fabric as she took it in her hands. She smiled wide at Chris, slipping it over her shoulders, his Dior parfume automatically filling her nostrils, warming her heart.

Chris watched in silence as Y/N wrapped herself in his jersey, name and number clearly visible on her back, lightly covered by the strands of her loose hair. An intense blush took over his cheeks, a feeling of heat different from the cold taking over his body.

He felt his heart speed up to a thousand miles per hour, pressing his lips into a thin line to stop the involuntary smile.

"It looks good on you. Better than on me."

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

4. Distraction

The kitchen of the triplets' house was full of energy as the brothers prepared to record another Wednesday video for their YouTube channel. Nick adjusted the camera and arranged the equipment while Chris and Matt arranged themselves in the two chairs behind the wooden table, facing the tripod.

Chris, especially, was beaming with enthusiasm, his words flowing with energy as he addressed the camera after Nick positioned himself behind the two, giving the go-ahead to begin recording.

"What's up, guys? Welcome back to our YouTube channel! Today, we have a-"

He was in the middle of introducing the theme when Y/N passed through the divide between the living room and kitchen, her hands holding her phone and her eyes fixed on the screen, heading towards the stairs that led to her shared floor with Nick.

Chris's gaze instinctively shifted towards her, his heart racing almost automatically as his pupils seemed to take the shape of a little heart, his eyes following her every step and his mouth opening slightly.

His brothers, noticing Chris's sudden distraction, began laughing, teasing him as he struggled to regain focus.

"Wow, Chris, I think someone's a little distracted." Matt, who was sitting next to him, joked, receiving a hard slap on the shoulder in response.

Chris blushed a red hue, embarrassed at being caught. He rubbed the back of his neck, trying to hide his state as he tried to remember what he was about to say.

"Hm..." He cleared his throat, still a little disconcerted. "Where did I stop?"

Nick laughed louder, stumbling back and slamming his back against the stove, cursing loudly as he tried to steady his balance.

"You were talking about the challenge we're going to do today, but I think you were more interested in keeping up with Y/N ​​than recording the video." Matt scoffed, smirking to the lens.

Chris shook his head, adjusting the cap over his hair in an act of nervousness, his mind still a little clouded by the sight of Y/N.

Needless to say, he got almost every picture of the challenge wrong, his mind replaying the image of the girl he loved over and over for the rest of the day.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

5. When he finally makes a move

The night silently enveloped the house, as Chris found himself lost in his own thoughts, his body lying flat on his bed and his eyes fixed on the ceiling. He knew it was time to finally confront his feelings for Y/N and express the love he had been secretly holding onto for so long. However, he was feeling completely lost on how to do it.

With his heart beating wildly in his chest, the boy decided to seek advice from Matt. His brother always knew what to say. Chris walked quickly up the stairs, going to Matt's bedroom door, knocking gently with his closed fist against the wood before turning the handle, opening it.

"Matt?" He asked, his voice slightly shaking with anxiety as his eyes darted around the room, quickly finding the boy in his gaming chair, playing something on his computer. "Can I talk to you?"

Matt looked up, frowning in concern when he noticed the boy's distressed eyes.

"Of course, did something happen?"

Chris entered the room, closing the door behind him and walking over to the bed, sitting on the edge in front of his computer desk.

"Nothing happened, I just... need some advice." Chris began, scratching the back of his neck in embarrassment at being so vulnerable. "I've finally accepted that I love Y/N, but I don't know how to tell her... I'm scared of ruining everything, Matt."

Matt smiled slightly, taking the headphones off his head and placing it on the keyboard before moving the chair so that he was facing Chris.

"Why don't you write her a letter?" Matt shrugged, crossing his arms and watching his reactions.

"A letter? Isn't that too old-fashioned?" The youngest frowned, pushing his bangs back with his right hand, expanding his vision.

"With every girl you've ever been with, you've always been direct, unrestricted, and unromantic. But with Y/N ​​it's different, right?"

"She's not just another one, Matt." Chris rolled his eyes, feeling disgusted as he remembered all the times that he tried to erase his feelings for Y/N.

"Exactly, so treat her like she isn't, be romantic and different, surprise her."

It took days for Chris to finally have the courage to open his heart in a letter. He wasn't used to revealing his feelings often, so writing them down on paper was harder than it seemed. But the day finally arrived, and surprisingly, it didn't take more than an hour for Chris to finish his words.

The brunette spent the rest of that day wandering around his room while carrying the letter hidden in the front pocket of his hoodie, looking for the ideal moment to give it to Y/N.

His courage to hand it to her face to face was almost non-existent, and that's why he used the only moment when the girl moved from her room to Nick's. With shaking hands, he placed the letter on Y/N's bed, leaving it in a place where she would certainly find it.

One last look at it, and Chris turned abruptly, running back to his own room with his face flushed with shyness and anxiety.

Meanwhile, Y/N returned to her room, unaware of the surprise that awaited her. Her heart beat with strange anticipation as she approached, immediately noticing the letter carefully left there.

Hesitantly, Y/N took it, feeling the weight of the paper in her hands. She took a deep breath before opening it, her eyes widening comically as she recognized the handwriting, her eyes running quickly through the words with a mix of surprise and excitement.

As she read Chris's passionate declaration, Y/N's heart seemed to expand in her chest, overflowing with all the best feelings.

To my Y/N,

I am completely sure that I have loved you since the moment I understood the meaning of the word love. I remember the day I noticed that I felt something different about you; we were 14 years old and you showed up at our house to spend the day with Nick, and as soon as you saw me, you smiled the most beautiful and wide smile I've ever seen, taking away all my breath.

Whenever I go to sleep I think about you and, maybe, an us, wondering if you feel the same. And whenever I wake up, I can only imagine what it would be like to have you on the other side of the bed, forever in my arms.

What would it be like to have you? This probably sounds cliché and ridiculous, but I created a whole imagination of what it would be like, and I know it would be a dream come true.

And I tried so hard to resist it, out of pure fear and cowardice of losing you and your company, but resisting you became my most difficult task.

Everything about you makes me feel more alive and lighter. The sound of your voice seems to silence all the noise in my head, and your smile erases all the bad smoke in the world around me. And suddenly there's only you.

If you gave me the chance, I would make you feel everything and much more than you already made me feel.

Say the word and I'll be your yours.

Always,

Chris.

Y/N remained static for long minutes, letting the magnitude of what she had just read sink into her heart and mind. She felt her fingertips numb and her heart racing so much that she was almost sure it would jump out of her chest and run to wherever Chris was.

And then, with renewed determination, the girl got up from her bed, running downstairs towards Chris's room, goosebumps rising through her body in anticipation.

Upon arriving at the door of the room she dreamed of being able to live in one day, Y/N raised her closed fist, knocking it against the wood with nervousness, anxiously waiting for an answer.

When Chris opened it, their eyes met in a moment of pure connection, and Y/N knew it was the right thing to do.

"Chris." She began, her voice soft but shaky. "I love you too."

taglist:

@lustfulslxt @ladybunny44 @worldlxvlys @earth2starkey @remussbitch @freshloveforthefit @il0vebeingdelulu @sturniolowhore @mimi-luvzyu @alorsxsturn @urfavgirllyyyyy @domizzzsstuff @sturnizd @hearts4chris @cupidzsq @dracoflaco @leah-loves-lilies @tylerthecreatorsrealwife @rootbeerworshiper @junnniiieee07 @elliesturniolo1 @sstvrnioloo @lightsgore @gidgett11037 @sturniolho @ksskianshd @ccolleenn @sturniolo-lover1317 @soimightlikeoldmen69 @hrtyjy @ldr-sl0t @breeloveschris @bellasfavbisexual @its-jennarose @sainzzsturns @ecliphttlunar @thebottledwatersupplier @bellasfavbisexual @soso-scarlettolivia

(If you want to be added to the taglist, go to this post)

[immoral-stranger]

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐀𝐬 𝐅𝐮𝐜𝐤 // 𝐂𝐋𝟏𝟔

𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐋𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟑. 💋 “I can get a little drunk, I get into all the don’ts but on good days I am charming as fuck.” – Tove Lo, Moments.

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem! reader

Word count: 2.5k

Warnings: None except alcohol and drunkenness.

A/N: Sike, you're getting the first letter tonight. It's cute as fuck. Dedicated to all my girlies (gn) who get Tove Lo drunk when aiming for Pitbull drunk.

Charles wasn’t sure why he had agreed to go out tonight. Monaco’s nightlife, as dazzling as it was, had become an overplayed record to him. Especially during the summer with all the tourists. He remembered being freshly turned 18 and discovering it (legally) for the first time. It had been magical. Now it was a done deal, a well-rehearsed story, knowing how it would go from beginning to end. Maybe that was why he actually preferred spending time on his yachts or on some small remote resort on some small remote island during his summer break from the racing calendar. 

Alas, here he was, tipsy from an overly sweet cocktail in a VIP booth at Jimmy’z. His friends were having fun, as were his friends’ friends and whoever else could get close enough to leech on, knowing that Charles was definitely the one paying the tab. It seemed to be the primary talent of those people, sticking close enough to the rich and the famous to get something for free out of it. 

Charles found it braindead. 

He sighed, swaying half-heartedly to the DJ’s relentless house music. Was he even a fan of house music? He didn’t think so. Between the thumping bass, the flashing strobe lights, and the endless game of shouting over the noise just to make small talk, Charles felt tired.

Maybe he was getting old. But he hadn’t even hit thirty yet. Could you have a quarter-life crisis at 27?

It got to the point where he started counting down the minutes until it would be socially acceptable to excuse himself for a “bathroom break.” The moment came, and Charles seized it, weaving his way through the dance floor. He lingered in the queue for the toilets longer than necessary, opting for a stall over a urinal so he could sit in peace. He didn’t even need to pee. He just wanted to be alone. His head was spinning slightly from the alcohol. Not drunk, not even close, but his famously rigorous fitness regimen had turned him into something of a lightweight. Not that he’d admit it.

When he finally emerged from the bathroom, he navigated the narrow corridor leading back to the main area of the club. That was when he felt it—a tug on his arm, insistent and clumsy. Before he could fully process what was happening, he was yanked backward and down onto a bench. Or a sofa. One of those little black pleather-clad, trashy club furnishings. 

For a fleeting moment, he considered all the reasons he hated being famous. Whatever was about to happen—selfies, autograph requests, or an inebriated declaration of undying love for Ferrari—he was sure it would test the limits of his patience.

“Hi!” a voice chirped. “Are you busy? No?”

He blinked. Sitting beside him was a girl—young and lively, a light shining in your eyes as you spoke excitedly. Or maybe just drunkenly. You had that half-glazed look of someone balancing precariously between charming and completely hammered. You spoke English. A tourist most likely. Dressed up nicely. Not like you had another choice. It was Monaco. 

As Charles was too shocked to answer, you continued talking in a heartbeat. 

“Great! Not busy.” You clasped your hands together as though you’d just agreed to the most wonderful thing in the world. “You…” you announced grandly, pointing at him, “are going to help… me.”

“I am?” Charles asked, caught between amusement and disbelief.

“Yes!” you exclaimed, as though this were obvious. You leaned heavily on Charles’ shoulder for support, your words tumbling out in a rush. “Okay, so. Here’s the situation: I lost my bag. Then I lost Emma while looking for my bag. And now—” you gestured dramatically, nearly toppling over even when sitting up—“I am stuck here. No bag, no Emma, and way, waaay too much tequila in my system.”

Charles stifled a laugh. “And you think I can help?”

“Of course!” You nodded vigorously. “If you find my bag and Emma, then this—” you gestured vaguely at yourself,—“this will no longer be a problem.”

“If I find your bag?” he found himself repeating. 

“Mhm, then you can come here to me again,” you slurred your speech a little, nodding again like your head was constantly stuck doing it. “With Emma and the bag and no problems.” 

“You can’t do it yourself?” 

“Exactly!” You pointed at him, impressed, narrowly avoiding touching his dimpled cheek with your long nail. “See, you get it. You’re a lifesaver.”

You seemed to have no idea who he was, and you were definitely drunker than you had first led on. He saw it in the way your body slumped and in your bloodshot eyes. Your hair was messy, your makeup smudged, and your dress a little wrinkled. And you were undeniably funny, totally capturing and taking over the conversation without letting Charles speak. 

He helped you to lean against the sofa, getting himself out from being your human crutch. Still, he couldn’t find a way out of being your lifesaver. 

“All right,” Charles sighed. “What does your bag look like?”

“It’s black, sparkly, and small. Like… impossibly small. A wallet with delusions. But I bought it in Paris—”

“Okay, I got it.” Charles suppressed a smile. “And Emma?”

“Tall. Blonde. Looks like she’s judging everyone but will absolutely cry over a military homecoming.”

“Right. Tall, blonde, and emotionally complex. Got it,” he repeated. “Are you sure I can leave you on your own?” 

Charles stood from the sofa, glancing at you as you leaned your head back against the wall, your eyes fluttering closed.

“I’m fiiiiine. I just need the room to stop spinning.”

For a moment, he hesitated. Enthralled by your giggle and the way you looked sort of fairy-esque with glittery eyeshadow in patches around your eyes. There was something magnetic about you, even in your dishevelled state. He couldn’t lie and say that it wasn’t also slightly concerning—a young woman alone in a drunken state. You were a happy kind of drunk right now, but he had a feeling that might change quickly. 

With a final look at you, he set off into the chaos of the club. Back underneath the strobe lights and the pulsating music. Back between the warm and drunk bodies of others. Somewhere, a girl in a sparkly dress was yelling about her ex to anyone who’d listen, and he thought for a fleeting moment how easily you might have been her—except you weren’t yelling. You’d asked for his help.

He heard his friends yell after him from their place in the VIP area, probably wondering why he’d been gone for so long. But Charles was on a mission—to find a minuscule bag and a blonde woman in a crowd of not that many bags and way too many blonde women. 

The bag was easier to spot than he expected. Its sparkles caught the light as it lay abandoned, right by his feet on the dance floor. That seemed too good to be true. He picked it up, the thing so small it felt absurd in his hands. What could you even fit in here? A debit card? A single lipstick?

Charles didn’t mean to pry, but he opened it to make sure it actually was yours, and much to his surprise, he found a debit card, some spare euros, some sort of makeup product, a tampon, and a driver’s license. Fuck, you were the kind of person who looked gorgeous in official portraits. And he knew your name now. Maybe he should’ve asked for that before he decided to agree on being your knight in shining armour. 

Emma, however, was more elusive. Verging on needle in a haystack territory. He scanned the floor and the booths, getting nowhere. Looking for a girl as equally lost as you were turned out to be harder than he thought. Everyone fit so well into the orchestrated act of nightclub hierarchy that no one looked out of place. 

Admitting defeat, Charles turned to walk back to the corridor outside the toilets, hoping to find you exactly where he left you. Before he could even round the corner, he heard your voice cut through the noise. 

“I know, Emma. I know that I do this all the time and that it scares you to death.” 

Your tone was half-pleading, half-explanatory, like you were trying to win a debate and console her at the same time. The sound of it made him stop in his tracks, curiosity anchoring him to the spot.

As he edged closer, you came into view, seated exactly where he’d left you. Beside you stood Emma, arms folded tightly across her chest in a way that broadcast equal parts frustration and affection. She was, as Charles had guessed, tall, blonde, and distinctly more polished than you at the moment. Similarly dressed but with an air of sharp control. 

Emma was the kind of person you’d send in to fix a mess—not become part of one. Clearly switched into full mom mode, she had already given you a glass of what Charles prayed was water and had tied your hair into a haphazard ponytail, probably anticipating the worst-case scenario of tequila-induced disaster.

Charles lingered just out of sight, gripping your little sparkly bag as if it were a trophy. He didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but your voice was unmistakable and loud enough to rival the DJ. 

“I get a little drunk and I get into all the don’ts, but on good days? I am charming as fuck, and you love me for it.” 

Your voice, slurred but insistent, filled the hallway. You reached out toward her, your hands wobbling in the air until she sighed and took them. Emma sighed, her annoyance cracking just enough for Charles to catch the tired laugh she let slip. It was the kind of laugh that said, Yes, I love you, but you’re impossible, and I have considered leaving you in a bush once or twice.

Charles smiled to himself, your declaration replaying in his mind. Charming as fuck, indeed. He wasn’t sure if the grin tugging at his lips was due to the absurdity of the situation or the undeniable truth of your words.

He wasn’t invisible, after all, so when you were done with your exclamation to Emma, your gaze easily landed on Charles, standing somewhat pathetically, waiting just a few metres away. The moment your eyes met his, you lit up like you’d just remembered something incredibly important.

“And look!” you exclaimed, pointing toward him. Drunk you had a thing for pointing. “I had this… hot guy here to help me. He’s found my bag! You, sir, are a lifesaver.”

You’d just managed to call him both “hot” and “sir” in the same breath, and Charles wasn’t sure if it was because you didn’t know his name or if you were trying to drive him completely insane.

Emma’s head whipped toward Charles, her face shifting from surprise to a kind of restrained horror as recognition dawned. Her posture stiffened again, her folded arms tightening. While you hadn’t known who Charles was, Emma definitely did. 

“Y-you roped Charles fucking Leclerc into looking for your bag?!” 

“A what now?” you mumbled, looking between the two of them with confusion written across your face.

Charles stepped closer, handing you the bag like a peace offering. “I am… a Charles Leclerc.” 

“It’s a thing?”

“No, it’s my name.” 

You squinted at him, as though trying to decide if this explanation satisfied you. Then, with a dramatic sigh, you let your head fall back against the wall. “You should have led with that,” you pointed out. “I need to sit down. Oh wait—” You gestured weakly at your own position. “Already doing that.”

“Charles Leclerc,” Emma said, gesturing toward him with an incredulous sweep of her hand. “Formula 1 driver? Like… literally one of the best in the world?”

“Ohhh, right. We’re in Monaco,” you mumbled to yourself. 

Emma pinched the bridge of her nose and muttered something about you being impossible. Then she straightened, looking at Charles briefly before her gaze shifted to the dance floor. “I’m going to find the others and tell them it’s time to go. Don’t let her wander off again, please.”

Before Charles could respond, she disappeared into the crowd, her blonde head bobbing toward the pulsating lights. He watched her go, unsure if he’d just been handed a babysitting gig or a challenge. When he turned back, you were studying him, your head tilted slightly.

Charles hesitated, then he sat down beside you again, leaning back against the worn pleather as he looked right back at you. Up close, the club lights caught in your hair, making it shimmer like an accidental halo. He wondered if it was the alcohol in his veins or just the moment, but you looked… luminous.

“So, what now? Bag found, friend located. Mission accomplished,” he asked, almost proudly, as he relaxed further into his seat. 

You drunkenly fumbled through the belongings inside your bag, in disbelief over everything being there. “You really did solve all of my problems… Thank you,” you said softly, a hint of genuine gratitude creeping into your voice.

He smiled, his amusement softening into something warmer. “You’re welcome.”

You studied him for a moment, your gaze slower now, more deliberate. “It makes sense that you’re famous,” you said finally, as if you’d unravelled some profound mystery. “You’ve got a really pretty face.”

Charles chuckled completely unguarded. “I think that’s the tequila talking.”

“Nope,” you said, grinning with certainty. “That’s all me.”

He couldn’t help but be drawn in by your confidence, your complete lack of pretense. On top of the almost sticky pleather sofa, he could see your hand move tentatively, dancing over the fabric, aimless yet perfectly intentional. He wasn’t thinking when he grabbed it, intertwining his fingers with your own, but it felt right—and something innocent that felt this right couldn’t be wrong. 

“I think you were right,” he said, not scared to look you in the eye. “About you being charming as fuck.”

“Good,” you replied, raising your glass of water in a mock toast. “Because I think I’m keeping you here for a while.”

“Still too drunk to walk?” he teased. 

“Abso-fucking-lutely,” you declared, each syllable landing like a punchline. 

He laughed loudly, letting the chaos fade into the background, his hand grounded in yours, feeling more intimate than any drunken kiss had ever done.

Charles wasn’t dreading being in the club on a Saturday night for once, not counting the minutes until he could leave without being called boring. Instead, he found himself thinking about where you might go next—and wondering if he could come along. Even if that was a hotel room after-party or a rented apartment in Nice. You were more interesting than anything else Monaco could offer right now, and filer à l’anglaise would leave the leeches to pay for their own enjoyment. 

Thank you for reading, hope this is a good introduction to what the rest of the love letters will be like! Please comment, like, reblog, bombard me with messages, I feed off that stuff 💌

Taglist: @koko-mei @anamiad00msday @floweringanna @lucyysthings @yelenam5 @firefirevampire @alexxavicry @emails-i-can-send

(if i haven't tagged you it's because your age wasn't visible for me to verify on your blog, i keep that as a precaution even if i'm not always posting smut)

[ecstarry]

congrats on the followers loveeee!!!

💌 of reg asking effie and monty to marry james?

Dear Mr. and Mrs. Potter,

I write to you with my heart on my sleeve. I have loved James ever since I've know him, and if I'm honest, I believe I have loved him for longer.

As if a part of my heart knew that his love would find me and I needed to save that space for him. I could swear there was piece that had been dormant, patiently awaiting just for James Potter to claim it.

I'm hopeful that you have witnessed just how earnest my love for your son is. That even if words don't always come easy to me, you can testify to the devotion behind my eyes whenever I'm around James.

While I'm no Seer, I'm utterly convinced that I was meant to love your son. In this life and the next one.

I want to marry James.

I want to be a Potter.

I wish to have your blessing. Your word matters grately to me, Sirius and I could not have dreamed of a better place to call our home.

My promise to you is to continue loving James as honestly as I have. I truly don't think I could ever stop doing so.

He holds my heart, tenderly and delicately in his hands, the same hands you have known and cared for all these years and that I wish to continue doing so as long as we keep breathing.

As you finish this letter, and you lift your heads to what is probably the most nervous version of me you've seen, please say I have your blessing.

With all my love,

-R.A.B.

[dostoevskya]

月島蛍 — WHO ARE WE TO FIGHT THE ALCHEMY?

꩜ [ haikyuu !! ] tsukishima kei x fem!reader

wc: 800+

–> first kiss; secret/private, but established relationship; soft bf!tsukki agenda grr

now playing… so high school by taylor swift.

“don’t i get a kiss for good luck?” he had teased before the game, referring to how she had firmly (but discreetly) pressed her lips to his cheek before his previous match the day before. “it’s kind of a tradition, isn’t it?”

her cheeks had burst into flames. “we’ll see, moonboy,” she replied. “just who do you think you are — percy jackson?”

the corners of kei’s lips spread into a small smile and his eyes gazed softly down at her. “only if you’re my annabeth chase. see you, shortcake.” he tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear, then promptly jogged off to line up with his team.

out of the corner of her eye, (name) could see a smug kiyoko subtly side-eyeing her.

—

the stadium was erupting in roars. after a long, painful five sets with shiratorizawa, coupled with kei’s injury in the middle of the game, karasuno had finally grasped victory.

the boys were piled on the floor in a tight, sweaty embrace. almost all of them were in tears. the seniors clawed on each others’ jerseys, crying out in relief and disbelief. kiyoko had her hands clasped over her mouth, a steady stream of tears flowing from her eyes. coach ukai and mr takeda (who was sobbing harder than sugawara, daichi, and asahi combined) cheered for joy. hinata was shining with sheer happiness, and even a hint of a smile could be seen on kageyama’s face. yamaguchi had been squashed underneath a pile consisting of tanaka, ennoshita, kinoshita, and narita.

all the way up in the stands, (name) found herself being bounced up and down in saeko’s death-gripped embrace, along with half-conscious yachi. ukai’s friends and kei’s brother, akiteru, had nearly thrown themselves over the railing, cheering and sobbing for all their worth. all of karasuno shrieked themselves hoarse in celebration.

tsukki, who had been tackled by nishinoya, wrestled himself away from the latter’s limbs. kei staggered to his feet and run a hand through his hair. he scanned the crowd to find his favourite person and grinned when his golden eyes fell on hers.

there’s my girl.

kei raised his hand toward the karasuno cheer box and pointed a long, skinny finger at (name), smirking boyishly. he turned his hand over and bent his finger twice, beckoning her to him.

she burst into an excited flurry of laughter, tearing herself away from saeko’s iron grip and bolted down the stairs. kei’s favourite jacket fluttered behind her as she made her way to center court.

there he was, in all his six-foot-two glory, looking back at her with so much adoration it hurt.

he came running over to her, and they met just after she passed the white line. (name) leapt into his hold and wrapped her arms around his neck, half-crying, half-laughing all the while. his big hands had a strong, steady grip on the bottom of her thighs and he smiled such a beautiful, genuine smile as he spun her around.

“oh, my god,” kiyoko whispered from the bench, hiding her giggles behind the clipboard. the rest of the team was too busy celebrating, but hinata noticed the two lovers and let out a strangled noise of surprise. up in the stands, akiteru and saeko whistled and hooted.

“there she is,” kei whispered breathlessly. “there’s my trophy.”

and with that, despite knowing there were over a thousand people in that arena, even though multiple TV cameras were trained on them, and though his team and entire school was watching, the rest of the world melted away for tsukishima kei and he kissed the girl, his girl, whom he would trade the stars and moon for.

karasuno’s cheers grew thunderously louder.

(name) smiled against his lips. “wasn’t i supposed to be the one who kisses you first?”

“yes, but this is our first kiss. both yours and mine,” he muttered in between kisses. “i’m the gentleman here.”

“if you say so,” she chuckled, rolling her eyes.

this time, she initiated the kiss, and tsukki let her tilt his head to the side to deepen it.

“you gonna greet me after every match like this, princess?” he asked when they pulled apart for breath, his eyes lidded.

“i don’t see why not.” she smirked.

their perfect moment was interrupted by a shriek.

“TSUKISHIMA!! DID YOU JUST KISS (NAME)!?” an astounded hinata hollered from across the court. he might as well have broadcasted it to the entire world, although, technically, japan had already seen their sweet moment on TV. little did tsukishima know, his mom was jumping up and down at home for joy.

“HE DID WHAT?” tanaka and nishinoya squawked indignantly. yamaguchi cackled. kageyama stared. sugawara whooped. soon enough, the whole team was ogling at them. even tendou from shiratorizawa seemingly forgot about their loss as he peeked through the net to see what the whole ordeal was about.

“ooh, spicy.”

…yeaaah. there was a lot of explaining to do.

꩜ a/n: woo! my first ever fanfic 😵‍💫 had this in my notes app since july but finally got the guts to post it lol. hope you guys enjoyed!

꩜ taglist: @snowthatareblack (my wifey and fellow tsukki girlie <3)

(lmk if you want to be added!!)

———

© dostoevskya 2024. all rights reserved.

please do not copy, edit, or repost any of my works. plagiarism is strictly prohibited.

[bunnydollprincess]

A Little Christmas Gift

Leon Kennedy x Fem! Reader

Tags: NSFW MDNI, Smut, Oral (f! recieving), Porn with no plot, unprotected PnV, Pet names (Sweetness, Princess, baby, whore, slut) Degradation & Praise kink, OOC Leon.

Word count: 0.5k.

A/N: Something short while i get back to my usual stuff, sorry for going missing, College drains the creativity sometimes, As alway dividers by @/CafeKitsune.

"F-fuck, Leon wait, we're gonna knock it down" You said as you fell back, pieces of paper ribbon torn to shreds on the floor as Leon kissed and licked your tits. Clashing slightly against the trunk of the Christmas tree where you had originally sat yourself under, waiting for him to get home, wrapped up in that silly decorative paper.

"Yeah? Well, i  want to open my present properly Sweetness" he laughed as he released your skin with a pop, panting as he reached for the last bits of ribbon on your legs.

It didn't take more than a rough movement to rip it off, quickly pushing your legs apart "You really thought…" His voice a low growl as he left wet kisses trailing down your thighs "you could be a lil minx right after i came back? Leave me hot and bothered?" Biting slightly at your plush meat. "Not this time. You're dealing with it, right here"

He moved your panties to the side, tongue slowly teasing at your needy clit as you grasped at the Tree skirt, your mouth falling open with a moan of his name.

"fuck— Princess" he groaned, his cock twitching as you tried to close your legs, pressing him further into your cunt "No, be a good slut and keep them open so i can fuck you nice and hard.''

His tongue traced lazy circles over your puffy bundle, making you whine, his hot breath and grunts sending some more pleasure waves through your body as his fingers dug into your thighs.

He pulled away from your cunt, just before you could cum, licking the remainder slick off his lips, one hand pressed your thigh against the floor, the other went to pull down his pants and boxers enough for his to spring from them, already hard.

Your face flushed as his tip pressed against your wet whole "What? You're gonna act all innocent? As if you werent here waiting for me? all tied up in that thin Paper, only in your bra and panties?" he mocked you, slighty teasing you with the head of his dick.

His cock sunk inside your pussy, both moaning as he bottomed you out, your gummy walls clenching around his shaft, "L-leon" you cried out, back arching as he thrusted.

You looked so pretty for him, that stupid paper ribbon on your increasingly messier hair, the traces of your little wrap up all torn around you, eyes rolled back as he fucked you stupid, his little Christmas present.

He grunted as your pussy squeezed him, pistoning his cock into your favourite spot, pelvis pressing against your clit.

"God, you were made for me" his voice roughed by arousal. "Was this what you wanted? Me, coming home to ravage you under the tree?"

He teased your clit further with his thumb, making you scream at the extra stimulation, managing only to squeak out "mhm!"

"Use your words slut" he groaned.

"N-needed your cock so so bad" you choked out as you felt your orgasm building up.

"Fuck—" he grunted, upping the speed, teasing you up until you finally came undone under him, back arched again as he kept fucking you through your peak. "gonna fill you up until you cant think straight"

He bit his lip, pace stuttering as your fluttering walls pushed him over the edge, spilling inside you with a low growl.

He panted for a second, staring at you while still inside, before reaching for your hair, putting the decoration on it back in place, pulling the remainder of parts of you from under the tree. Lifting your face up to kiss you, his voice softening up as he pulled out and adjusted his boxers back on, "You were the best present, baby."

[cupidsdolll]

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬; harry styles x fem!reader

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬; harry’s grumpy and y/n’s never had a valentines date

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭; 𝟐.𝟐𝐤

masterlist • talk to me! • request a valentines prompt

Y/N never really goes out unless she’s with her friend, Sarah and her boyfriend Mitch. It’s not that she has no reason, she just doesn’t like going alone. She doesn’t like being surrounded by large groups of people she doesn’t know, so the majority of the time she stay in her room surrounded her stuffed animals, wrapped up in her soft and fluffy blanket either reading a book or watching a movie.

The past two weeks all she ever heard is everyone’s plans or ideas for how they want to celebrate Valentine’s Day, whether it’s showering their significant other with presents and love, or simply choosing to spend the day with friends. While she’s happy for her friends, she doesn’t get the point. Why would you wait basically a year to show your partner love and spoil them, when you can just do that every day.

Some might she say she’s only grumpy because she’s never had a true valentines, only spending it by third wheeling Sarah and Mitch at home watching sappy rom-coms and eating as much junk food as her stomach can handle. She would honestly agree, she’s mainly grumpy because she hasn’t had the chance to experience that, but it still doesn’t make any sense!

Sarah’s been hinting at trying to get Y/N a Valentine’s but she doesn’t wanna go with someone she doesn’t know, it’d be even worse than third wheeling in her opinion. She refuses with a simple wave of her hand and a laugh, telling her she’d be too boring and they’d fall asleep at the table.

Sarah will laugh along, but she has a plan. She refuses to let her friend go without the joy of a date any longer! So she gathers Mitch after their lunch date and they begin their plan.

- - - -

Sarah’s been taking an oddly long time getting ready today, normally she only takes roughly thirty minutes to do her hair and makeup, but it’s taken her an hour and she’s still not done! Y/N knows something’s up by the way Sarah keeps giggling and looking at her dressed in her sweats and oversized hoodie, but she simply says she’s just happy.

A knock at the door disrupts Y/N’s thinking as she watches Sarah run to the door, she smiles lightly thinking it’s Mitch coming to pick her up. As she goes back to the kitchen to make her some water, she can faintly make out Sarah and Mitch’s voice as well as someone else’s.

She comes back out and stops in the doorway when she sees Harry with a small smile on his face. His hair looking as fluffy as always, his dimples prominent thanks to the smile he’s trying to hide. His muscles straining against his white dress shirt, and his black skinny jeans complimenting his toned legs and she swears she can feel the drool pooling in her mouth.

Conveniently Sarah turns around and spots her in the doorway, smiling even bigger somehow as she beckons her over.

“Y/N/N!! Look who’s here!” She says and Y/N sighs softly. As she heads over to the group, she can’t help but to trail her eyes over Harry’s physique once again, a small smile gracing her lips.

She gently pinches Sarah’s arm when she reaches the group as she gives everyone a hug. She can’t help but notice how tense Harry is when she wraps her arms around his frame.

She wouldn’t exactly call them friends, but they’ve always made polite small talk whenever they happen to be in the same room. She doesn’t understand why he’s always so short with her but can have a conversation for hours with Mitch. She doesn’t understand why he doesn’t like her, she hasn’t done anything!

She sighs as she removes herself from the awkward embrace and tugs on the ends of her hoodie sleeves, a habit she does whenever she gets anxious or overwhelmed. Stepping back, she smiles softly as they all engage in conversation.

“Y/N. Harry’s taking you for Valentine’s.” Sarah says and Mitch nods once in agreement. Her mouth parts and she stares at Harry, confusion etched on her face.

“Wha- no. Wait, huh?” She asks and Sarah laughs softly.

“Well you’re always complaining on how Valentines is such a shit holiday, and we wanted you to see how cute it can be, so we got H to do it so no strangers.” Mitch says and her eyes narrow at Sarah.

“This is some sick prank right?” She asks and they shake their heads.

“Wouldn’t do that you lovie.” Sarah says and she scoffs.

“Harry’s never even had a girlfriend! Why would he want to take me on a date? Are we forgetting Valentine’s is for couples, which we aren’t?” She says, a heat beginning to warm her cheeks in embarrassment as she shakes her head and tugs on her sleeves again.

“M’a nice person, Y/N.” Harry says as he fiddles with his rings, his voice soft as if he’s scared of angering her. She sighs softly as she looks up at her friends.

“You don’t even like me Harry. If this is something out of pity, I don’t want it. I’m perfectly fine doing what I always do.” She says and he nods.

“Go get dressed then.” He says, his voice just a tad deeper and she shivers as she nods absentmindedly and runs back to her room.

While she’s getting dressed, the three continue to have a conversation.

“You know where you’re taking her?” Sarah asks and he simply nods in response .

“You think she’ll like it?” Mitch asks and nods again

“Did you have to use that voice?” Mitch asks and Harry laughs.

“What voice?” Sarah asks and both of the guys laugh.

“His intimidation voice. Scares the crap out of the girls but they listen.” Mitch says

“She listened didn’t she?” Harry says with a small smile on his face.

A couple minutes later, Y/N comes out and Harry swears his heart stops. Now it’s not like he hasn’t thought she was attractive beforehand, he always thought she was pretty. But he has to be mean because he knows he’ll hurt her. She’s so sweet, so soft, so angelic, and he’s the complete opposite. She was right, he’s never had a girlfriend, he just wants to have fun and not be tied down. After all, he’s young, it’s not like he’s gonna be getting married in a couple years, so he sticks with his one night stands and aimless flirting with anyone who’ll fall for his charm.

But seeing her right now, her brown silk dress hugging her curves perfectly, her black heels wrapping around her toned calves, her hair styled in a sleek ponytail, and her jewelry shining when the light hit, a simple necklace with a small gem wrapped her neck, matching bracelets on both wrists and a couple small rings sit on her polished fingers.

Harry can feel a small nudge on his chest and turns to look at Mitch who has a smirk on his lips. Harry shakes his head and clears his throat.

“Y’look beautiful Y/N.” Harry says as a small smile appears on her plump glossy lips.

“Thank you, H. Didn’t tell you earlier but you look good too.” She says and he fights back a smile.

As they all walk out the door and to their respective cars, Y/N tugs on Harry’s belt loop as she signals him to come back. He steps back and they walk together a little further behind the other couple.

“Haz, I’m serious. If this is out of pity, I don’t need yours. Valentine’s isn’t even a big deal to me.” She says and he scoffs.

“M’serious Y/N. I’m a nice guy, and I want to do this. Stop overthinking, I don’t pity you. I want you to have at least one good date.” He says and rolls his eyes.

- - - -

As he pulls into the parking lot, he can hear her gasp from beside him and he chuckles. He parks the car and they both get out, heading to the door and he quickly opens the door to let her in.

They walk in and she sighs happily as the different foods blend into one delicious smell, he watches her warily, a smile threatening to form on his lips. They walk up to the register and order whatever they’d like and when asked for the name and card Harry quickly slides his card in and mentions his name, she frowns lightly as she watches everything go down.

The lady ends up eventually walking away and Y/N turns to Harry

“I could’ve paid for that.” In response she gets a frown.

“Have you forgotten? It’s technically our first date and I gotta treat ya.” He says and nudges her shoulder.

“Well thanks.” She says and nudges him back with a small smile on her face.

They stand back some as they wait for their food, talking about random topics when she clears her throat.

“H, I really am sorry for everything I’ve said today. I guess I just judged you because I was kinda hurt.. I had to watch you be all buddy buddy with Mitch and Sarah but act like you hate me.. it’s so confusing.” She says and he grabs her hand softly.

“I don’t hate you, at all. If anything I really like ya.” He says

- - - -

After they eat, Harry drives her to a small flower shop picking up everything she picks up. After creating a big bouquet of her favorites, he hands it to her with a shy smile.

“Harry.. what’s this?” She says

“Uh.. I read you’re supposed to give your date flowers in the first date.. and technically I was supposed to give them to you when I first walked in to pick you up, but I didn’t know what flowers you’d like..” he says as she watches his cheeks begin to turn pink.

She can’t fight the big smile that spreads across her face. She squeals as she wraps her arms around him, burying her face into his neck. She can feel him tense underneath her grasp, but she can’t be bothered. She’s just too happy! He actually put effort in researching what to do and wanted to be good for her.

She pulls away and smiles once again, taking in his flustered face and red cheeks, a downturned smile on his face as he scratches his neck.

“Um, you’re welcome.. I hope you liked it.” He says, his voice smooth and silky but she can tell he’s embarrassed.

“I loved it H. Thank you for this. Best Valentines ever.” She says and he smiles softly at her.

They spend the rest of the day chatting and walking around the town, enjoying each others company. He ends up carrying all her bags as they walk around, it reminds him of the celebrities and their security guards on a shopping spree.

As they head back, he reaches one hand over to her and hesitantly grabs her hand. She giggles quietly as she intertwines her fingers through his, and they drive in silence. She can’t help but daydream about them as she stares out the window, a dopey smile never leaving her face.

Once they reach her and Sarah’s apartment he opens the door and lets her in after she unlocks the door. She smiles and thanks him quietly, setting her keys in the bowl placed by the door on the small end table and he places all her bags in the living room. As soon as he sets her bags down both Mitch and Sarah emerge from Sarah’s bedroom, excitement written all over their face as they bombard them with questions about the date.

After answering their questions Harry turns to Y/N and nods his head towards the door. She nods and they both excuse themselves and head back outside, closing the door behind them and smiling at each other.

“Did you enjoy yourself?” He asks and she nods.

“It’s gonna be hard to beat this mister. You ruined it for any other boy that tries, thank you again.” She says and he chuckles.

“That wasn't exactly my plan, I just wanted to show you what Valentine's is all about, that it isn't all that bad. You just have to share it with the right person. I had a good time tonight and I hope you enjoyed yourself as well. Tonight has shown me that I'm tired of ignoring you and being grumpy with you. If it's okay with you, I'd like for us to try all of this again.” He says and she smiles as she nods her head.

“Harry… can I kiss you? It’s the only proper way to end such an amazing date.” She asks and he nods.

He places his ringed hands on either side of her face and they both lean in slowly. She can smell the faint scent of the food he ate earlier combined with the mint of his gum he chewed earlier as his breath fans against her lips. He leans forward just slightly and they both smile as their lips touch, both soft and sweet. The kiss is nothing short of gentle and tender, only lasting for a minute max before he pulls away and kisses her nose.

Maybe Valentine’s isn’t so bad anymore.

[wlwloverwrites]

Home Gym

Pairing: Kate Bishop x Reader

Warnings: daddy kink, slight mention of sweat? in a sexy way, thigh riding, nipple play, light biting kink, normal things used as sex toy, smut, small amounts of fluff, oral sex, fingering, shower sex (18+)

Main Masterlist

DO NOT STEAL MY WORK. DO NOT REPOST ANY OF MY WORKS ON ANY OTHER PLATFORMS. DO NOT TRANSLATE MY WORK. NO ONE HAS MY PERMISSION TO DO SO

You knew what your girlfriend was doing before you unlocked the front door. The walls rumbled with repeating vibrations. Her upbeat music she only ever played when she was working out echoed in the hallway. Your neighbors hardly complained… at least not about the music. They have complained about other loud noises coming your shared apartment.

You remember the first time they knocked on your door.

Sweat was beginning to build on your hairline, your robe was falling off your shoulder, and your feet were cold stepping on the hardwood floors. You opened the door to see your very uncomfortable neighbor, right away you knew they heard. You were mortified when they asked you keep it down. You gasped when they admitted your ‘rather loud noises’ had been a reoccurring problem. Genuine sorries fell past your mouth but were interrupted with a rather smug Kate.

Kate’s arms slipped around your waist while her lips found your bare shoulder. She kissed over the forming marks on your heated skin. She didn’t pay any attention to the same neighbor she sometimes helped carry groceries up the stairs. That neighbor was now bright red once they realized Kate was nude, completely unbothered. You said your rushed goodbyes and failed at keeping the noise down.

Your jingling keys did nothing to signal to your girlfriend that you were home. Their sound swallowed by the music Kate added to her ‘Gym’ playlist. After settling down, you found yourself taking a peek into her gym. She noted that the extra bedroom in your apartment would be the perfect place to work out. Your eyes trail over her body.

Her arms are glistening with sweat. Fly away hairs are glued to her forehead and her cheeks are flushed red. You watch as her necklaces dangle in the air with each push up. Her form is impressive, she makes it look easy. Staring at her lips you can see her counting under her breath, the last number falls past her lips with a loud sigh. She gets up to sit on her bench. She leans to get her water bottle and that’s when she sees you.

“Hey baby,” she says with a smile, setting her bottle down and lowering the music with her phone.

“Hi Kate.”

“How was your day?” She spreads her legs just an inch, welcoming you between them as you make your way over to her to greet her with a soft kiss.

“Was okay,” you hum against her lips, giggling softly when you feel her wandering hands.

“You look pretty, baby. Those are nice jeans,” she compliments with her eyes trailing down your body.

“Oh really? Thank you, a really pretty girl gifted me these jeans.” You reply playfully, giving her a nice twirl.

You recall the time she bought them. The skin on her arms was indented with the strings from the numerous shopping bags she insisted only she’d carry. She bought you so much you always had to find a way to rearrange your closet to fit even more clothes. Don’t even let her get started on jewelry. Your nightstand always had some type of jewelry resting on top. Sliver and gold necklaces, tennis bracelets, and rings sparkled with the soft light coming from your lamp. Kate loved buying you rings. Sometimes when she’s bored she just stops by the some random jewelry store and buys you another ring. She always takes a mental note on your reaction, trying to figure out which is your favorite style…. for research purposes of course.

“Girl has good taste,” Kate jokes slipping her hands into your butt pockets, giving your ass a playful squeeze that makes you laugh. “I’m just finishing up here. Do me a favor, baby,” She looks up at you. “Can you hand me the massage gun?”

You hum, turning to get what she asked for. You bought it for her birthday, you remember her smile when she realized what it was. She had been complaining about being sore after working out and occasional cramps, so you did what any good girlfriend would do. You added it to you shopping cart. You mess with the buttons, checking if it was charged.

“After you finish up, want to eat out?”

It’s quiet for a moment and look at your girlfriend confused. You roll your eyes playfully when you see the look on her face. The same cocky smirk you learned to love is on her face as she jokingly licks her lip.

“I mean since you’re offering. I wouldn’t mind…” Her hands grab your hips, her fingers tug on your belt loops forcing you down on her thigh. “I wouldn’t mind eating you out.”

You throw your head back with a laugh. The position you’re in is awkward, but before you can get off her thigh, her arm hugs your body down. Her unoccupied hand grabs the massage gun from your hand and switches it on.

“Finish up with me?” She asks innocently.

Too innocently.

Your hands went to her shoulders, awkwardly rubbing them to massage the forming knots. She sighs softly, you always loved the way you relaxed her. Dropping your hands to her arms, raising your eyebrows when you feel her muscles. Your lips part and suddenly you are hyper aware of your position. You never really noticed her ‘pump’ after working out, you were always quick to rush her in the shower or was simply not home to witness it; however, now you felt it. Kate seems to be in her own world, aiming the vibrating gun on her biceps.

Are you supposed to use it on your arms?

“Feels weird. I usually just do it on my legs,” she shrugs as if she can read your mind. You don’t know how you don’t put two and two together. It’s Kate for crying out loud. The both of you have been dating for the past two years and you still don’t know how you didn’t see her meticulously planning something in her head.

She smiles at you, it’s not a sweet smile.

It’s dark, and widens when your body jerks forward.

Vibrations crawl down her thigh and between yours. Just on the first setting, the vibrations were enough to dig your fingers into her flesh. Loud moans escape your mouth. Kate’s thumb hits a button, bumping up the speed and you feel like you’re flying. Throwing your head back leaves your throat to be Kate’s next victim. Her teeth bite at your skin making you hiss in pain. Your hiss quickly turns into a whine when she pulls away. A text notification pulls her attention away from you.

“K-Kate,” you whine. Your voice is shaky and you’re almost sure your eyes are crossed. Subconsciously your hips flex towards her body, your forehead fell at the junction of her neck.

“Hold on,” she is quick to dismiss you, not even caring one bit about you grinding on her bare thigh, like a bitch in heat. She doesn’t care that you are purposely shoving your breasts in her face to pull her eyes away from the screen and onto you. Your breathing become harsh, every vibration feeding into the sudden pleasure. Forcing your eyes open you look at Kate’s phone. She is the middle of typing a text when you whine again.

Kate shushes you.

Soaked between your thighs, with your wetness seeping through your pants and onto Kate’s thigh. An occasional moan would slip past your lips and it would result in a sharp stare from your girlfriend, but after the third one Kate had enough. Why she wanted silence was beyond you. Was she finally on the neighbor’s side?

Her empty hand, phone finally put away, fell right on your ass. A loud slap echoed through the room. Your skin burned, but it never stopped your hips, only made them faster. The slap only makes you moan louder. Clearly annoyed, the vibrations stop and you are left panting with want. There’s drool that piles by the corner of your mouth, but you quickly try to recover yourself. The inside of your thighs are numb.

“I told you to stay quiet, baby,” she tuts, her hand squeezes your face. She’s taunting you, knowing damn well how much you love when she gets cocky.

“But Daddy, I need you,” you whisper the words against her skin. Your lips are swollen from your teeth tugging at the poor skin. Fingertips dig into her clothes, a silent beg for her to get undress despite her being half naked and you being fully dressed.

“I know you need me, baby.” She whispers back, pushing her face closer to yours so your noses are brushing against each other. Her tongue peaks out from her lips and licks yours. “Want to know how I know?”

You don’t know what game she’s playing at, yet. Nonetheless, you nod, bumping your noses again. Leaning in for a kiss, you part your lips and tilt your head to the right. Patiently you wait because you know more is coming.

“It’s not because you’re begging for me,” she declines pressing a wet kiss against your lips before she pulls away with your bottom lip between her teeth. “It’s not because your eyes have gone all hazy.” You suck in a deep breath when she turns the gun back on and places against her thigh so you can feel the vibrations. “It’s because I can feel how wet you are between those pretty thighs.”

You whine into her neck, your body is shaking with need and it’s only then do you realize how right Kate is. You’re soaked between your thighs. Your panties feel like a second skin and your poor jeans do nothing to help when it came to friction. Drunk with pleasure you nod at her words. Grinding even harder against her thigh, chasing your high.

“‘m so wet,” you whine, sinking your teeth into the bare part of her shoulder. The salty taste of her sweat meets your taste and there is a small part of you that loves the taste. The bite makes Kate hiss in pain, she pushes you off slightly. Before you’re able to overthink why she practically rips your blouse off of you. Your blouse is now resting on top of a dumbbell and Kate’s mouth found its safe haven between your breasts. Not bothering to unclasp your bra, she shoves the padded material down, just enough so your nipples appear. Her lips wrap around your right nipple without warning.

“Come on, baby. Ride Daddy’s thigh. I know you want to.”

You can feel each syllable against your breast. Sensitive and needy you follow her instructions and whine when her lips find your left nipple. Kate, never the one to chose sides, gives the same treatment to the left breast. Groaning into your skin as her unoccupied hand finds your back. Dragging her fingertips down your skin until they find your jeans again. Kate loved the sight in front of her. You grinding against her thigh, bottom lips between your teeth, sweat building up on your forehead, sweet sounds escaping your lips, and most importantly the growing wet stain between your legs which ruins your jeans.

“Daddy knows your body too well, huh?”

She’s taunting you.

“Moan my name.”

“Kate.”

“Louder.”

“Kate!!”

The vibrations are strong — too strong. Your head feels fuzzy and eyes can’t seem to focus on anything. Drunk with pleasure you throw your head back, giving Kate more than enough space to attack sensitive parts of your neck once again. Hips are rolling fast against Kate’s thigh. Too busy chasing your high you barely kiss back your girlfriend who pulled you into a messy kiss. You whine against her lips when you the feeling in the pit of your stomach gets ready to be released.

“Fuck Daddy. I- I’m gon-,” you stumble over your words as Kate gives up on massaging her thigh and places the gun directly on your pelvis.

“Come on, baby. Get all messy for me,” Kate whispers against your skin, encouraging you to soak through your jeans. She bumps the vibrations even higher, sinks her teeth into the soft skin on your collarbone, and rolls your nipple with her free hand. It’s enough to push you off the edge.

Your eyes roll back as your whole body seizes with pleasure. Your fingers dig themselves into the full muscles in her arms. Your thighs clench trapping Kate’s so she can no longer bounce it. You feel wet between your legs, no doubt making your jeans a darker blue than before. You don’t know when the vibrations stop and the praises start.

“Pretty girl.” Kate’s mouth finds your ear, her teeth trap your earlobe, “Doing so good for Daddy.” Kate pays no mind in the aftermath stings caused from your nails. You smile softly when you feel sweaty arms wrap around your waist and a flushed cheeks rests on top of your naked breast. Kate, always the sucker for skin-to-skin contact, whispers how good you are for her. You giggle softly when you feel her wandering hands rub your back and her soft lips find your collarbone.

“You’re so pretty, baby.”

“Thank you.”

Kate laughs against your skin. Even when your mind isn’t working at its full capacity you still manage to keep your manners in check. The minutes you take in hold each other feel like hours, the both of you just enjoying each other’s touch. It isn’t until the sweat begins to build up that you pull away. Kate whines when you pull away but understands because her skin was flushed, which makes you feel bad. She never had the chance to cool off after her workout.

“Kate, honey. We need to shower. You’re stinky and I’m messy.” You groan, scrunching up your nose and giggling when Kate is clearly offended when you stated the truth. 

You jump off her lap when she reaches to tickle you. Smirking when you escape from her attacks and watch as she gets off the the bench. You back away and you sprint to the door, playing a small game of cat and mouse.

“You’re not too sore, baby?” She asked with faux concern, raising your suspicion as she makes no move to chase away you like she usually does.

“No. Are you?” You challenge, looking back at your girlfriend who is pulling off her sports bra, it takes all your willpower to not look. She stands shirtless in the middle of the room for a second before she walks to you. She takes advantage of your eyes that dart to her chest and grabs you.

“Never, just wanted to check in cause I still need to eat you out.” She says with a wink. Her hands cradle your face as she makes you walk backwards to your shared bathroom.

“I made a promise to my girlfriend and I intend to keep it.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Mhmm.” Kate nods as she presses a gentle kiss on your lips.

Finally, the both of you are in the bathroom. Loud giggles fill the room along with the sound of the shower as you get undressed. Kate checks if the water temperature is okay before she gets in and offers her hand to you as you step inside. Sighing softly at the water as you wash away your sweat, and worries. It doesn’t take long for Kate to fall on her knees and hike your leg over her shoulder. Her directness has you holding yourself upright against the sage green tiles you have decorating your shower wall.

“Fuck Daddy.”

Her tongue is gentle, licking your throbbing clit. Kate takes everything you offer her. She moans softly at your salty taste that is watered down with the droplets of water that also fall on her face. She takes in the way your finger get tangled in her soaked hair. She takes in the way you can’t seem to hold your moans, forgetting how loud you can get. It isn’t long til Kate adds her fingers. Her pointer and middle finger find their way inside you. Kate is careful to make sure you don’t lose your balance before curling her fingers in a ‘come here’ motion. You let out a high pitched whine when she repeats the motion again and again.

“I’m gonna come again! Oh Kate.”

Kate keeps a steady pace and makes sure to not be too rough knowing you’re sore despite your confident ‘no’ you said earlier. You can’t get over the feeling of her tongue, eyes rolling back as you moan her name over and over. Your hips roll against her face, forcing her tongue to lick over her fingers and her nose bump your clit. The sound that leaves you is pornographic making Kate laugh against your pussy and another voice yell.

“Can you guys hurry up in there?! I have to use the restroom.”

Your gasp is loud but is quickly switched to an even louder moan when you fall apart on your girlfriend’s tongue. Your fingers tug on Kate’s wet hair and she pushes her mouth closer to your pussy.

“Kate, Kate, honey. Who is that?” Your words are rushed as you try and catch your breath, legs are still shaky and you’re pretty sure your eyes are crisscrossed…again.

“Yelena.” She says as if it is obvious. You blink, once then twice and look at your girlfriend who is already rinsing the shampoo off her dark hair.

“What?”

“She was on her way when you were,” she pauses as she reaches for the loofa behind you. “Well you were… you know,” she pauses and then drops her mouth and rolls her eyes back before mimicking you, “Oh yes, Kate. Fuck, Daddy!”

You feel the heat on the your cheeks and grow hotter when you hear a very confused, russian accent outside the bathroom door a second time, “I thought Y/N finished already?”

You’re mortified, but Kate only laughs as she steps out of the shower. Walking out of the bathroom with only a towel wrapped around her waist, leaving the top part of her body bare.

“Yelena, don’t you know we have a guest bathroom?”

“Don’t you know I can hear her from the hallway?”

thank you all for 5,000 followers! please reblog, comment, and like! - lover

[ervotica]

“shhh, shhh..I know, I know..” with finnick pls 🥺

pairing: finnick odair x fem!reader

warnings: this takes place after the poison fog, r is badly injured and finnick takes care of her

hunger games masterlist

You twitch against Finnick’s chest in the tall grass, rough like sandpaper against your wounded face. You’re covered head to toe in blisters from the fog, eyes half lidded as you begin to lose consciousness from the pain.

Katniss’ strangled wail is muffled and far away in your ears and you barely register the words.

“The water! The water helps.”

You drag yourself from where you’ve collapsed on top of your fiancé; crawling along on your elbows, you make it a couple of feet at most before you’re exhausted; your entire body is burning, skin raw, every little touch flaring up every nerve ending inside of you.

There’s a rustling next to you as Finnick is lifted and dragged to the shallow pool of water a few feet away; there’s a splash and a gurgled scream as Katniss and Peeta start to clean his blistered skin.

“Finnick,” you gasp, your concern for him overriding the searing pain for a split second. “Finn,” you croak again, eyes heavy.

It’s quiet for a minute, the only sound the whispering of leaves brushing against each other. All the while you lay face down, trying to peel your eyes open where they feel like they’ve been superglued shut.

Thick fingers pull at your jaw and your head turns; your neck is stiff and the touch feels like the lick of a flame against your bulging wounds.

“C’mon,” It’s Peeta. “Gotta get you to the water.”

“It’s okay, I’ve got her,” comes Finnick’s voice and his hands pull you up by the armpits. You hiss and squirm away from his hold, the skin on skin contact causing too much pain.

“I know, honey, I’m sorry.” He speaks in that soft voice you love, the one reserved just for you. “It’ll feel better soon.”

He lowers you into the water and you scream. It’s a pain unlike any you’ve ever felt before, white-hot and scalding. It’s like you’re bleeding from every pore.

“Shhh, shhh… I know, I know.” He winces as the blisters start to lodge free from your skin and you relax, sagging in his arms.

“‘S better,” you slur. Your eyes snap open as you grapple for purchase against Finnick’s neck; your thumb rubs circles into his cheek. “You’re okay? You’re sure you’re okay?”

He laughs, incredulous that even at a time like this, he’s where your worries lie. Pointed teeth glare back at you as you thumb at his bottom lip and smile.

“I’m fine. Just worried about you.”

“I feel better. I’m okay now.”

His muscular arms engulf you, wrapping around your waist now it’s finally safe to touch you again.

[mattslolita]

matt turning his stuffed animals away before he fucks you 🙈🙈🙈

he would sooooo do thus omfg....

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

your lips clashes with matt's messily, as you pulled him in by the collar of his shirt — his body was pressed solidly against yours, clothed erection subtly grinding against your clothed pussy causing you to whine from the tension.

"need you, matt," you breath as you pull away from him slightly, biting down on his bottom lip.

matt's gaze on you turns lustful as he stares down at you, a smirk gracing his features as he lifts your shirt over your head hurriedly — suddenly his movements halt, and you watch him curiously as he takes his stuffed pug and turns his face the opposite way on his beside desk before he hovers back over you with a smirk.

"matt, the thing isn't real," you giggle, as his hands grip your hips whilst he slides your shorts down your body.

"can't let him see me fuck you senseless, baby," matt breathes, ridding himself of his own pants showcasing his fully erect cock in his boxers.

[nottsangel]

Hate sex with Rafe and “I’ll make it fit” ??

18+

you curse at yourself in your head for laying naked, with your core dripping, under rafe cameron, your enemy. you don’t know how it happened— one moment you were screaming and now you can’t keep your hands off each other. he gazes down at you with an intimidating expression on his face as he removes his boxers hastily. your eyes start to widen as you look down at his cock springing free against his abs. oh my fucking god. he is huge, really fucking huge.

“rafe, i don’t think- that’s not gonna fit.” you gulp, brows knitting together. he grips your hips forcefully to pull you towards him on the bed before placing his hands on your inner thighs and spreading your legs further apart. “don’t fucking whine. i’ll make it fit, got it?” he growls before positioning himself at your entrance and pushing in forcefully, not caring about your pleasure whatsoever. he moves his head closer to you with his hands resting beside your face to support himself as he bites his lip. “see? told you i’d make it fit. fuck, you’re so tight.” your hands clutch his biceps as your eyes shut, the pain almost becoming too much as your nails dig deep into his skin.

“it- it hurts, rafe” you sob, tears welling up in your eyes. “shut the fuck up and take it. you were the one so desperate for it, weren’t you? my god, you’re fucking annoying.” he growls as he looks down at you with a stern face as he increases his pace, the pain you were feeling slowly subsiding and shifting into pleasure, causing you to let out a strangled noise. he wraps his veiny hand around your throat, choking you as he groans in your ear, “you’re fucking mine from now on. all of you.”

all nsfw daydreams

[the-amber-raven]

maybe together we can get somewhere [complete]

Tommy has always been able to see ghosts. Usually, they stick around for a few days or weeks, maybe several months before they get what they need to move on. There was one ghost, however, who appeared when Tommy was young and seemed to be unable to get the closure he needed to let go and so he just… never left. He got used to it, after a while, and Daniel became a consistent companion throughout his life. – Or, the one where Tommy can see ghosts and is haunted by Daniel Buckley for reasons it takes him almost thirty years to understand.

Pairing: Buck/Tommy

Chapters: 7/7 | Wordcount: 62,459

Read on Ao3